Sisters of Avalon

By R.H. Downs

Against the rugged backdrop of Bridgette's Cove, Newfoundland the Bride Sisters struggle to find peace after the passing of their beloved Mother and family Matriarch. Her death causes a ripple in the isolated waters of the cove as granddaughter Jenna returns home to pay her respects and leave her troubled life back in Ontario. Her twelve-year old son, Joseph, a tortured soul caught in the middle of his parent's drama, accompanies Jenna on her journey. Their visit unearths secrets that will make Jenna's escape home question everything she ever knew about herself, all the while unveiling a side of Newfoundland that her son can't help but fall in love with.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.H. Downs
• Release date: Jan 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9780994028112

R.H. Downs

Renée Hillier Downs calls Newfoundland home even after 17 years of living on the “mainland” where she spent her formative years growing up on Long Island, Newfoundland. Renée attended Sir Wilfred Grenfell College’s School of Fine Arts where she earned her BFA.Afterwards she left her tiny corner of the world to live in the bustling city of Toronto where she immersed herself into the arts community and met her husband. Shortly afterwards they moved east to Nova Scotia and started their little family. Renée’s inspiration for writing comes from her father and the English teachers that nurtured her talent.Sisters of Avalon is the first in a trilogy of the continuing story of the Bride’s from Bridgette’s Cove, Newfoundland, a fictional place that lives deep in the mind of the author.

Book preview

The air all around her felt dirty. Poisonous even, dripping with the guilt of her trespasses. The strangers that were zooming past her had no idea what she had done only a few hours ago. It only felt like five minutes had passed since shame fell upon her like an oversized jacket. Too big for her to bear, and something she could never get use to wearing.

Two hours of waiting for a plane to take off only made remorse fall flat upon her face. Her son kept asking why they had to leave without telling anyone, including his father. Her answers were vague and full of lies. Betraying her son’s trust only added to the guilt that she tried to conceal behind her designer clothes and expensive make up. A costume she wore on ceremony for a husband who only ever let her wear the finest of garments. Her life played out on a stage in front of admirers who only knew one side of her, a side that her husband had created.

The part that she hid from herself, would be exposed as soon as the plane hit Newfoundland soil. A place where beauty was often hidden beneath a sheet of heavy fog. Its mystery only unveiled to those that were deemed worthy by the island itself. But there wouldn’t be enough mist on the harbor to hide behind once she got back home, the cove would soon reveal all.

Bridgette’s Cove was infamous for its rich soil and the bounty it provided for its inhabitants, but hidden deep beneath the feet of those that walked the quiet path of the cove, were stories that could never be told. Stories that would make her shame look like a bouquet of roses in comparison.

With the plane now in the air, there would be no turning back. Her son tucked himself into his seat, his face pressed against the window in protest to avoid his mother’s deceiving lips of red. He would shut her out entirely until she was ready to tell him the truth. It would be a long journey back to the place she ran from twenty-years ago. Going back was her only option, even if it wasn’t the one she wanted for herself or for her son.

As the plane jolted back and forth while trying to land, she was reminded of the turbulence she felt growing up in the tiny cove that was suppose to protect her. She just never knew what it was that the aunts were shielding her from, not at the time. It wasn’t until she fled the island that she could actually appreciate what it had taught her.

She waited for everyone else to get off the plane before making her final steps towards the door. Her hesitation was proof to her son that she didn’t want to be there either. When she placed her Fluevog shoe on the ground, below the airplane steps, something inside her took hold, waking her from a twenty-year sleep. Home, it felt like home. In that moment she remembered what she had missed most about it.

Breathing in her first mouthful of Newfoundland air felt like a warm waterfall drowning her in pure solace. She felt safe, a fleeting moment of peace before facing her family, the sisters of Avalon.

PART ONE

TRESPASSES

Summer 1993-Winter 1999

Chapter 1

Litha

Standing by the side of the road, Jenna hesitated for a moment before heading down to see her family. Why did I come home to this was her only thought. But deep down there was a pull, a longing to go back to where she came from, even if it meant facing the family she had abandoned twenty years ago.

The mystical gale from the Atlantic Ocean was welcoming as it wrapped itself beneath Jenna’s straight blond hair, turning it ever so innocently into perfect golden locks. Jenna spent a lot of time making sure her hair was always straight, no kinks or curls to call her own. Ian, her husband, liked his wife to be perfect, even if it was just for appearances. Now that she was back on the island, there would be no point in trying to stop the thick salty air from having its way with Jenna’s angelic mane.

The breeze penetrated her skin in such a familiar way that it gave her chills. It was as if the elements were all in agreement as the wind whispered, It’s about time you came home missus.

It had not sunk in yet that Jenna’s grandmother had passed on, and she refused to feel the pain that must accompany that kind of acknowledgement. First she would have to face the wrath of the aunts. Purdy, Val, and Tammy Dale Bride. Three women that could put you in your place faster than lightening would strike. Jenna had been away from home for a long time and had never called her aunts to let them know where she was. Telling them would mean revealing a life that they would not understand. A life of masquerade and elegance singed by irony’s hand and laced with burdens too deep to hide away from. If her aunts ever knew the truth about her life in Toronto, they would for sure question how she ever came from their linage. No Bride blood would ever let a man rule the roost, not without facing the consequences. Jenna was the exception that broke every rule laid down by her aunts and the generations that came before them.

Coming home would mean facing a thunderstorm like no other, and Jenna was not sure if she was ready. But there they were, three of the four women who helped raise Jenna. They stood in a half circle around her grandmother’s gravesite. Like witches stirring their brew while conjuring a wicked spell, Jenna thought.

Jenna was sure it was no coincidence that the aunts picked this day to bury her grandmother. It would be exactly how Nan would have wanted it. Summer Solstice was always considered a holy day by this lot of women. Everyone outside the cove often snickered at the aunts and Jenna. They called them names, spread rumors that they were evil, and worshiped the devil. The aunts taught Jenna to pay no heed to the people in town who were too closed minded to know any better, as Aunt Purdy would say.

Purdy Bride was the oldest sister even if her smooth skin and strawberry blond hair made her look like the youngest. She always sheltered her beauty from the sun to avoid the freckles that Nan said would come her way if she did not cover her face. It was her mother’s way of making sure Purdy’s magnificence stayed hidden. Purdy wanted nothing to do with the little brown dots that would mark her skin, and always wore a hat with a wide brim. Keeping her face as pure as the driven snow was a daily chore for Purdy. It pleased Nan to see her prettiest daughter wear a dreadful hat. What satisfied Nan even more was how young Jenna mimicked the actions of her favorite aunt and did the same. Purdy made sure that her niece wore a similar hat to her own, often stitching them two at a time.

Purdy always took great satisfaction in teaching Jenna how to bake, cook and sew, as she spent more hours with Jenna than anyone else. Purdy’s Jenna was to be treated with care, and Purdy sheltered her from anyone who tried to poison her niece’s mind. When Jenna came home crying because the other children called her names, Aunt Purdy always gave her the same piece of advice, Other people’s opinions of you are none of your business my darlin. Their hurtful words are da work of de devil and not your family. Your family loves you no matter what.

Despite Purdy’s absolute love, Jenna felt that the mocking banter of the town’s children did hold some merit, especially when it came to Val. Jenna’s Aunt Val encompassed all that was unholy and spread her daily dose of spite Jenna’s way whenever she had the opportunity. It was often when the other aunts were busy or unaware of Val’s intentions, but it was on regular basis. There was only a four-year age difference between the two girls as Val was the youngest of the aunts. Being so close in age meant that Val was often in charge of watching over Jenna, much to Jenna’s dismay, and Val’s too for that matter. If Jenna had a choice between being taunted by the town’s children or by Val, she would have always gone with the children. Even the wickedest of town folk were frightened by Val’s gaze. Her long, thin frame made her appear frail and listless but her eyes were big and dark and full of contempt. It was hard not to compare them to the depths of despair. When Val stared into another person’s eyes they always looked away first. Jenna could easily block out the empty words of her tormentors but there was no escaping Val’s rapture. If it were not for Aunt Tammy Dale, Val’s fury would have been far worse.

Tammy Dale was second in command to Purdy. Her mantra in life was to work hard and love cautiously; giving her heart to no one was a safe bet in Tammy Dale’s mind. She was a woman of few words, often being ridiculed for having more of a male physique as opposed to that of the feminine. She often was mistaken for a man, in her red and black lumber jacket and her size 13 rubber boots. Tammy Dale had heard her fair share of bitter words and banter, which was why when she caught Val doing the same to Jenna, she would quickly shut Val up. Val knew full well not to push any buttons when Tammy Dale was around. Aunt Dale, as she was always called, towered over Val’s scrawny frame and posed the threat of kicking her arse into next week, if Val didn’t shut her mouth and mind her own business.

As Jenna stood there remembering what it was like being raised by these aunts, she could not help, but think of another woman who was not standing with them. Not only were they burying Jenna’s grandmother on this holy day of Solstice, but it was also Jenna’s birthday, and it was 39 years ago on that very day that she was born to the fourth sister, Meg. Jenna knew that her mother would not be there and wondered if she were even still alive. Jenna turned her back on her mother when she left Newfoundland knowing that there was very little she could do for her. Being four provinces away was no different than being in the same house as the women who gave her life.

Meg would be at home sitting by the upstairs window, no doubt. It is where she spent most of her days, living as an invalid, cared for by the aunts. To speak of why Meg was this way would be like speaking ill of the dead; it was a subject met with much disapproval. If anyone dared to ask why Meg never spoke or did anything really, they would be punished in some way by Nan. Jenna was told from an early age not to ask questions and to accept things as they were. Some things are just God’s will, little Litha, Aunt Purdy would say whenever Jenna’s curiosity would get the better of her.

Litha being the Goddess of Summer Solstice and Jenna’s birth name, up until the day she left the island and the aunts behind twenty years ago.

Jenna left her family name and the Avalon Peninsula without letting anyone know, on the eve of her nineteenth birthday. When Jenna woke up that morning, there was no thought of leaving Bridgette’s Cove or the name Jenna for that matter. She knew the aunts would be busy getting ready for Summer Solstice and of course Litha’s birthday. Even at the age of eighteen they still called her little Litha. There had not been a day when she had ever been out of the aunts sight, except for the time when she went to school for three days. Once the kids started teasing her about her name, her hair, and the aunts themselves, home school was the only option. They believed they were protecting her, but Litha felt confined to a life of solitude. It was only on her birthday that she felt part of something bigger. The Bride family cousins would come from all over and help celebrate her special day, making Litha feel like royalty.

Litha Eve meant that everyone would be up early to bake, decorate and clean the entire house. Christmas did not get celebrated at the Bride home, but Summer Solstice sure did. The house hummed beneath Litha’s feet as she slowly climbed out of her feather bed. Lying on feathers was as close to sleeping on a cloud as a young girl could get. Her imagination was her only escape.

As she climbed out of her bed on the eve of her nineteenth birthday, she was comforted knowing all three aunts would be home together today. No birthday eve tormenting from Val means a good day. Litha soon regretted the thought as she turned to see Val standing in the doorway. She caught her breath at the sight of her aunt, who was poised ready to pounce on her like the dragon lady that Litha imagined her to be. Val’s long jet-black hair and cold eye’s made it easy for Litha to picture her that way. Litha lowered her gaze from Val’s as she asked her aunt what she wanted.

Can’t I just want to say good morning to me favorite niece? Val’s tone was pleasant, but still mocking with its intention.

Good morning, Litha replied, while turning her back to Val.

Don’t turn your back on me little lady. I am not done wit you yet.

The hairs on Litha’s arms were all at attention as she slowly moved her body to face Val.

Yes Aunt Val. Litha was putting on her best well-mannered smile.

There was a long pause as Val waited for Litha’s piercing stare to drop down to her bare feet once again. Nothing. Get dressed and get downstairs now. Just because it’s your special day tomorrow doesn’t mean you get to skive off today. You can peel da spuds and gut Tammy Dale’s fish.

As Val walked away, Litha muttered something under her breath, so low that not even she could hear herself.

I heard dat. And you can clean the chicken pen too while you are at it missy.

Litha held her breath and decided not to even think of anything else until she knew Val was well out of range. There were times when she felt Val could read her thoughts. Litha had coached herself on how to stop her mind from reeling in order to force Val out of her head. Val caught her that morning unaware, and she was not awake enough to shut her out just yet.

Aunt Purdy had three different pots on the go by the time Litha had made her way downstairs. The smell of homemade bread baking in the oven put a little spring in Litha’s step. She could imagine eating a warm, thick slice of it later smothered in Nan’s homemade sticky raspberry jam. It was the eve of Summer Solstice, which meant it was indeed that time of moon for Litha, cravings and all. Much to her delight, Aunt Tammy Dale was still down on the wharf and was already gutting the fish for supper. It would be one less thing for Litha to do despite Val’s orders. Litha went to help Purdy peel the potatoes instead.

Already done darlin, just see to da chickens. Take the basket and bring in what eggs you can get at.

Purdy must have heard Val’s orders too and decided to help lift the heavy load that she put upon her niece. Litha grabbed the basket and headed to the chicken pen. Regardless of Val’s punishment, she loved the chickens and spent time hiding in the coup when she knew Val was looking for her. It was where she learned to slow her thoughts and just be. Being raised by a tiny society of sisters had many disadvantages in Litha’s mind. Her life up until the eve of her nineteenth birthday had been a circle. Every day was much like the day before. Working the land, cleaning the house and praying to the Goddesses of a religion that was older than time itself.

Even with routine, change can always find its way through. For Litha that change came in the form of curves and desires that no one dared speak of. They rejoiced on the day of Litha’s first cycle when she turned twelve. There were drums, chants, and blessings sent up to the moon. But after that night it was never spoke of again.

Purdy always had the hot water bottle ready, and chamomile tea by the pot for Litha to drink. It was the only time of the month when Purdy would sing. Her voice was more than that of an angel, but of a Muse. Somehow the pain would subside long enough to give her niece comfort. But once her torment was over, Purdy would never be heard singing again until Litha’s cycle came round once more.

That very morning while collecting eggs in the chicken coup was the last time Litha would hear Purdy sing again for many years to come. One minute Litha was placing eggs in her basket and the next she was on the ground screaming in agony. Tammy Dale heard her from the wharf and came running up, fish guts and all. Purdy got to her first and Val chose to stay away, in fear of the chickens that did not like her either.

Oh merciful Mary it’s coming Dale, it’s coming. Purdy’s voice started to shake, and she started singing right away. But this time Litha’s screams could not be tamed. Tammy Dale grabbed all one hundred and thirty pounds of Litha and carried her in the house, and up the stairs, at what seemed like Superman speed. Tammy Dale was a bruit of a woman. Her strength and size was one of the reasons why people thought she was a man.

Purdy had the kettle going with tea brewing and hot water bottles full before Val even bothered to come in from outside. You’re some help I know. Can’t you hear dat girl screaming her lungs out up dere?

Of course I can. But we both know it’s not me dat can help her right now. Val was so calm and cool that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth; an expression Nan said often when referring to her youngest child.

Then just like the wind itself Nan came storming through the door. The mother of all four maidens, as she called them, with not a boy to her name. A father was never talked about or seen. The whispers around town were viscous when it came to Nan, a witch doctor, a heathen, a women of her own mind. Some said she killed her husband while others said she drove him away. No one would dared ask Nan a question one way, or the other. Nan only shared her secrets with her daughters. The Brides were their own village, and Nan was the Queen.

Now my dear, you get your lazy backside up dem stairs ‘for I tans yer arse, Nan also did not mince words.

Val was gone in a shot, just as her mother instructed, and kept quiet the entire time she was in the house. Like Litha, Val had to quiet her thoughts around her mother or be found and whipped if she did not comply. Nan was not a hard woman to anyone else except Val, and Val took that all out on Litha, the cycle repeated.

Nan and Purdy got hot water bottles and tea upstairs while Tammy Dale and Val turned on fans to help cool the room down. Nan would not usually take part in the healing ritual, but this month was different, Nan was needed. After mumbling through a chant, Nan placed a round metal ball filled with herbs from her garden into Litha’s tea.

Dere, get dat in her and make sure she drinks da pot full. She’ll sleep after dat. Just let her rest. I mean it Val, if I finds out you did anyting to dat maid today, I will have your arse whipped tree sides to Sunday.

Val’s eyes met with the floor.

Yes, Mom.

Purdy, Dale, you get Meg ready once Litha is sleepin. She’ll need fixin for tomorrow too.

Just like that Nan was gone down the stairs and out the door. Gone to get ready for Solstice too no doubt. It would be a day of love and honor for their own sweet Litha. She needed her rest, now that the tea had taken hold. The women did as they were told, as did Val and left Litha alone.

Chapter 2

Meg

The process of getting Meg ready was one that was done twice a week at the Bride house. The ladies ran a full bath with lavender, made tea and then laid out a new dressing gown for Meg to wear. Like everything else in that house, it was a routine.

Meg needed her sisters for everything, but it was not always like that. Before Litha was born Meg lived her life much like the other sisters. The day to day was her path, even if she strayed from it time after time. Meg’s existance before Litha was never discussed in the Bride house. No matter how hard Litha searched for answers, she never came up with anything that seemed to make sense to her.

When Litha was little, she would lay in Meg’s lap like a lost soul waiting for her mother to say something, anything. But words never came. It did not matter to little Litha that her mother could not speak. Litha loved Meg unconditionally. She felt her mother’s love even without words. Lying with Meg gave her great comfort especially after she had a bad day with Val.

Val was forced to stay away from Meg. Seeing Val was the only time emotion came across Meg’s face. This reaction led to another unanswered question as to why Meg responded in such a manner. What hold did Val have over Meg? Litha loved her mother despite the untold story of her condition.

When Litha celebrated her fifth birthday, everyone gathered at Nan’s house much like they did every Solstice. It was on this birthday that Litha’s wish finally came true. Meg spoke. It was as if the energy of all the Bride clan gave Meg the strength she needed to resurface, if only for her daughter’s sake.

Everyone was singing while the drums were beating a rhythm of pure joy, when Meg all of a sudden, reached out to take her little girl’s hand. The aunts saw it happen and went silent while the rest of the tribe played on as if summoning the Goddess of love.

Momma, Momma, Momma Litha chanted over and over again until the beat of the drums picked up her cadence and continued to play while Litha danced.

Litha Meg’s voice was soft but strained as she touched her daughter’s hand.

Then that was it. Nothing more, nothing less, and it was just enough to give a little girl hope that one-day her mother would come back to her. Litha danced all day with her family and never let Meg out of her sight. That night Litha was the universe beneath her mother’s back. Her love gave Meg the power to speak once more.

Go away. Go away. Go away. Meg uttered her words with much conviction, but they sent chills up her daughter’s spine. After the night of her birthday, Litha became scared of Meg. A little five year old could not understand why her mother kept telling her to go away. In ignorance Litha did what she was told and stopped trying to bond with her mother.

As Litha grew older, she gravitated further and further away from Meg. Believing that her mother was a monster was hard to swallow, even if she heard it said many times by her older cousins. But as time changed her body so did it her mind. Litha’s need to find out the truth regarding her mother became obsessive. Seeing Meg in a living coma only made her more and more upset and her need for answers consumed her thoughts.

Litha began to sneak out into her Meg’s room at night after everyone had gone to sleep. Running out to her mother’s bed and climbing in gave her a sense of comfort again during her teen years. Much like it did when she was little. Litha would feel safe for a little while, but if she felt Meg stir, she quickly ran back to her own bed; afraid that she would hear those dreaded words again.

The years in between Litha’s fifth birthday and her later teenage years were especially hard for Meg. While Litha stayed away in fear, Meg began to wither away a little more every day. Without her daughter’s love, Meg was nothing. The aunts bathed and clothed her, but they showed no emotion whatsoever towards Meg in fear of what their own mother would do to them. It was under Nans instructions that the aunts kept their distance from their sister. She warned them that if they gave their sister too much love and attention that she would send Meg away for good. No one wanted Meg to leave and that was mostly for Litha’s sake. Even without a typical mother daughter relationship, Litha still craved her mother’s presence. When Meg told Litha to leave on her fifth birthday, it wasn’t taken in the context that it was meant.

Go away.

This time it was Litha screaming back the words her mother chanted to her many years ago. She was crying out in her sleep after Nan gave her some special tea to help with her period cramps. Purdy, Tammy Dale, and even Val were all there to hear her. They tried to wake Litha and tell her she was dreaming, but it took several attempts before they could break her out of it. As she woke, she remembered it was Litha Eve and that there were still a million things to do. If the aunts were still by her side and not working, than her condition must be far worse than she thought.

Litha, its Purdy, wake up sweet child. Have some more tea. You have to get better before your birthday tomorrow. It’s a special one you know.

Purdy spoke in a voice that made everyone believe nothing was wrong. It somehow always worked as she had a special way of making others feel better just by being in the room with them. Litha sat up in bed awake, but still very shaken. Without saying a word to her aunts, she ran to Meg’s bed and aligned the small of her back to that of her mothers. Litha instantly took a deep breath and quietly drifted back to sleep. The two of them laid that way for most of the early evening.

Purdy and the other aunts finished the preparations quietly downstairs while mother and daughter regained the strength they needed for the following day. The music playing from the backyard meant the rest of the Bride clan had arrived. The quiet melody coming from her cousin’s guitar helped to rock Litha into an even deeper rest where dreams began to feel like reality. Litha was dancing with her mother in a place that felt like it was high above the earth. No matter where they danced, they could see green as far as the eye could reach. A single tower soared high above them. Litha turned to reach out for her mother’s hand when she felt a pull. All of a sudden she was inside the tower looking up into darkness. Her mother’s voice was calling her name, but she could not see anything. As the singing turned into chanting a light came from above, and she could see her mother’s face again. This time her mother was not calling her name, but telling her to Go away.

Litha began to feel herself falling down a long, dark tunnel. Before she hit the ground, Litha woke up in her mother’s bed. She could still hear the chanting from outside. The cool breeze coming from the fan helped her catch the breath she needed to calm down. She climbed out of Meg’s bed and started walking back to her room. As she crossed to leave, she felt something brush her leg, just beneath her kneecap. It was Meg. Her mother’s eyes looked sad instead of empty as a single tear rolled down Meg’s face. Litha bent down to wipe it away by tucking her blond curls beneath her mother’s cheek. She could hear her mother whisper something. It was the same words as in her dream and from her birthday fourteen years ago.

Litha started to cry. She was not scared like before. This time felt different. She felt like she could sense something from inside her mother. A hurt and a longing to come back from wherever it was she was trapped. The little messages to Litha telling her to go away meant something more all of a sudden. As if her mother was trying