When the Magpie Calls

By Cheryl Harawitz

Starting at a new school in a small coastal town in England, nine year old Morgwyth hopes to make friends quickly - but as usual, her odd name and extraordinary gifts label her as strangely different. Soon she is confronting bullying, class difference and the staggering forces of two mythical creatures who are threatened by the power of her abilities.
Because Morgwyth can see and hear what birds and animals think, and in her dreams forms a bond with a wolf-weasel creature, she lives between two worlds. Strong, feisty and vulnerable Morgwyth faces cruelty from the class bully Marc Colbrooke and his friends. Luckily her teacher Miss James believes Morgwyth has something special and is pleased to see a friendship develop between Morgwyth and Teresa Finnegan. But Teresa's upper-class mother is dead set against the friendship, preferring to keep her daughter bonded to her own best friend's daughter, Lisa.

Meantime two mythical characters, Sheolduff and Gorth, fearing their survival if Morgwyth discovers her power, use their shapeshifting tricks and illusions to confuse and distract her. When Miss James's engagement ring and other items go missing, Marc and Lisa lead the chorus of accusation against Morgwyth. Will she be able to defeat all these forces and gain recognition for her unique abilities?

When the Magpie Calls is a story of Morgwyth's journey in discovering the power of difference.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350908022

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

ON THE EVE of her birth a vision had appeared to each of them in a dream; an old woman moves toward them in slow motion, her long gray hair flowing behind her. You have been chosen, she whispers. This child about to be born, is no ordinary child. In the shadows, a dark form moves and slithers out of sight. You must protect her, the woman whispers, her image dissolving in a fog of mist.

Suddenly an explosion! They are awake! In the dark they reach for each other and squeeze hands in silence waiting. All is quiet. In a flash, they turn to face each other, knowing they had shared the same dream.

The sun emerges slowly from behind purple hills across the meadow beyond their window. The mother hands the newborn baby to the father as first chirps and tweets of the early risers announce the new day. He takes the baby carefully, cradling her in the crook of his arm, barely able to believe the exquisite perfection of her. Finally he pulls his eyes from the tiny bundle and looks at the mother lying in the bed, softly smiling. Their eyes lock in a moment of pure bliss. Morgwyth. The name spills from their lips like a breath of magic. Her name is Morgwyth, they whisper in one voice.

Morgwyth leans against the brick wall of her new school. She is tall for her age, with eyes soft, large and brown, her look steady and curious, like a young doe eager to explore, and wary of dangers that exist in this kind of territory.

Girls are lined up at the hopscotch map of England chalked on the playground asphalt. Across the playground a couple of thrushes argue about who should fetch dinner. Morgwyth leans back, her long thick hair spilling down her back laughing as she looks up. Though she cannot see them amid the thickness of the young dark leaves, their news is shrieking and shrilling above rooftops and beyond; whistles about where to get good twigs for nesting, whirrs and cecaw cacaws, announcing who is living where with whom, shree, shreee, shreeee, shreeeeeeee- sending warnings about the cat two doors down, and as always, chirps and weather tweets. To Morgwyth, listening to birds deliver news to each other, is as natural as listening to her parents’ after dinner chats; comfortable, warm and familiar. But she has learned that it is not normal to believe you can understand the language of birds; most believe it is her over-active imagination.

Shifting her attention, Morgwyth darts a look across the playground at boys scrambling across loop ladders, her eyes shifting to a group of girls huddled together by the fence, laughing. It’s week two at Cherry School Academy. She knows all the names of her twenty plus classmates by heart but she’s not one of them. Not yet.

On another land unseen by humans, Sheolduff, born a fungus of muck slick oily rivers emerges slowly from the sludge, her bulging eyes shifting from side to side in her small slug-like head, her tentacles above searching like antennas. We must be extra cautious. She’s getting to that age when her curiosity will surface, Sheolduff hisses, her wide mouth stretched like a seam around her tiny face in a constant grin. As she moves, her large body thins out snakelike, the long tail sliding through green slime oozing from beneath her, spilling over surfaces as she moves. Poisonous gasses spout from her tiny nostrils forming a fog around her. She turns and glances at Gorth before slithering up a blackened tree trunk.

Gorth is lying on the ground gnawing a bone he holds between yellow finger-claws, his smooth red-brown hair draped like silk over his lean weasel like body. Eyes down, his tail twitches at the sound of Sheolduff. He does not see her, but her stench is unmistakable.

Sheolduff slides down the scorched blackened tree. In their human world where everything changes constantly, she sputters, drool dripping from her mouth, confusion is made easy. Sliding up another thick stump, her tentacles grope through the sticky surface. Time for fun and gamesssssss.

Gorth’s skin crawls as Sheolduff moves toward him, but he does not move. You must use all your shapeshifting skills to distract her, Sheolduff sizzles, sliding her head along his long snout until her eyes, now slits, meet his. While I create some illusions. Her head darts up. In a quick shake, her body swells again, the green slime dissolving instantly into a scene; a crowd of children are shouting. Get him! Punch him! All eyes are pivoted on a boy clawing at the face of another boy lying on the ground crying. Sheolduff laughs as she swipes her tail and the image disappears, leaving a pool of green slime.

Gorth sighs, lost in the memory of his days roaming through forests playing with his sons and daughters, snoozing in meadows of soft green grass. He closes his eyes trying to forget what he cannot.

Further and further from their homeland Gorth had wandered across the cracked dry earth in search of food; thirsty, hot and hungry like the rest of his herd. Too late he had tried to warn them. But the hunter, eager to possess their splendid red-brown hides had chased them down. For hundreds of miles their bleached skeletons lay scattered across the parched land.

Sheolduff’s voice is soft. Remember Gorth, in our realm there is no death. Here we can live forever.

Gorth casts his eyes on blackened trees, their branches broken, hanging limp and lifeless. Dropping his head on his feet, he closes his eyes. Her world yes. But she can’t survive without a visit to earth now and then, spreading her poison, destroying everything she touches.

This child of nine must not discover her own unique abilities. As Sheolduff speaks a dark cloud of hissing gas bursts from her tiny nostrils filling the air with her putrid stench. That child could be the death of us.

Gorth cocks his ear toward the sound. Yes. Once they discover what the child knows, Sheolduff is done for. He raises his head. There’s no death here. But no life either. Sitting up, he shakes the foul air from his nostrils, his long silky hair rippling across his thin body as he stands. Walking slowly toward a pile of dry bones, he wraps his jaw around the largest and waits.

We must not be fooled into thinking we can afford to wait, Sheolduff snaps. She is already aware that she is different from the others. We must stop her before it’s too late and the magic of their earth world becomes widespread knowledge.

Gorth drops to the ground again, his nose touching the dry bone clutched between his feet, his eyes closed. He does not see the thin long tail curl and lift above him. CRACK! Sheolduff’s tail snaps beside him. In an instant she snatches his bone, wrenching it from his grip. Gorth snarls, but keeps his head down. He is alert now, tense, still and silent.

You really are a pathetic creature Gorth. Lost your voice, forever silent. I don’t know why I bothered to save you, Sheolduff drools, the thin mouth brushing past his ears. Do as I say or I will dispose of you like that! She whips her tail in the air, smacking it to the ground. There are other shape shifting creatures in the earth world, becoming extinct like you. I have my pick of them you know.

Keeping his head low, Gorth steals a glance toward the place where his bone was tossed.

Are you listening to me? Sheolduff hisses. You must keep her distracted, stir things up. Get close to her. A soft chuckle escapes from her mouth. Special abilities indeed, she sneers, her swelled up body quivering in delight. She will never discover them.

CHAPTER TWO

THE BELL RINGS and Morgwyth, standing by the classroom door, kicks at some stones along the wall. The wind has dropped and sun peeps out from behind clouds. She looks up as two girls walk toward her, arm in arm, heads bent together giggling. It’s Teresa Finnegan with her friend Lisa Jacobs. Teresa and Lisa pass Morgwyth as they open the classroom door. Lisa, her long blonde hair covering her face, whispers into Teresa’s ear, close enough for Morgwyth to hear, she’s weird. Teresa looks over her shoulder at Morgwyth, shrugs and smiles. For the first time since she arrived at this school, Morgwyth had felt the real possibility of making a true friend. Now she’s not so sure, her mind shifting to yesterday, like a video, playing the scene over and over.

The teacher, Miss James has her back to the class, looking out of the window. As she moves, sun rays catch the top of her head turning wisps of her dark hair into gold. Morgwyth had watched her. It was too soon to tell if she was nice or not.

A shiny pink plastic bag had been dumped on Miss James’s desk, pencil holders and art supplies pushed aside to make room for it. Miss James had peeped into the bag and pulled out a six inch yellow rubber dinosaur on a chain with a clip. A note was attached around its neck. She had looked up and smiled at the class. A surprise? she’d said and read aloud, ‘Dear Miss James, I thought you could use these for the upcoming museum trip. I believe there are enough for everyone. I thought the students could clip them on their backpacks, bags or whatever. They are in different colors so you can match them with their respective groups. Kind regards, Evelyn Finnegan.’

Behind her Morgwyth had heard a muffled laugh and turned to look. It was Marc Colbrooke. He had his hand across his mouth, his shoulders shaking. Across the room, kids were giggling and shifting in their seats. Morgwyth had swung around and looked at Teresa. Her head was down and she looked really embarrassed. Morgwyth knew that feeling well, like when she blurts out bird conversations without thinking and the giggles and looks that follow. In a surge of anger, she had turned and glared at Mark who was still sniggering. When she turned back, she saw Teresa watching her. Right then and there, Morgwyth knew that Teresa shared the same feelings she had. Sitting next to Teresa, Lisa had watched the exchanged looks and grabbed Teresa’s arm, pulling in close to her. Don’t take any notice of them Trese, Morgwyth heard her whisper. Then the door suddenly opened and everyone’s attention moved toward it.

A tall man entered, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt clutching the strap of a leather bag slung over his shoulder. He looked toward Miss James. Good morning, he’d said, a big grin on his face. I’m Michael Troy. I’m here to photograph the class and the artwork for our article on the Sun Gazette Art Competition. The thing is though, I’m kind of short on time.

Miss James told him it was no problem and directed him to a corner of the room where the artwork is displayed; on the wall, drawings; underneath a shelf held sculptures of dinosaurs, lizards and other creatures painted in vivid colors. Morgwyth was really proud of her painting of the fish and loved her sculpture, the way the little figure had come to life in her hands; the red and brown strands of silk adding the perfect final touch. It was exactly how she’d imagined the little skeleton on the shelf behind Miss James’s desk. Miss James told her it was a Cynodont and Morgwyth had looked it up on the Internet.

I’ll get the children ready for a group shot while you photograph the artwork, Miss James had said. Immediately Morgwyth had dashed toward Miss James, hoping to stand next to Teresa for the class photo.

Being tall, Morgwyth was placed in the second row directly behind Teresa. Lisa was in front right next to Teresa, nudging her and giggling.

In less than ten minutes the photos had all been taken and Mr. Troy was out the door. Morgwyth can still feel how her stomach knotted up when she’d slowly walked to the art corner of the room, dreading what she knew was about to happen. In her mind she can still hear Lisa’s scream.

Someone stole my sculpture! It’s gone! Lisa’s face was aghast. Miss James had looked all over the shelf, moving aside all the clay animals, insects, birds and other creatures. But Lisa’s piece, a bright green alligator, as Morgwyth already knew, was missing.

Miss James had turned to Lisa. Are you sure it was here Lisa? You didn’t take it home?

Lisa’s arms were folded over her chest. She was shaking her head frowning. No I didn’t. Someone must have taken it.

Murmurs and whispers buzzed around as everyone watched Miss James search for the missing sculpture, looking under shelves, moving things aside.

Morgwyth had felt her cheeks burning, panic creeping right up through her. This is exactly what she had hoped to avoid. But there was no avoiding it now. I know where it is, she had barely whispered, finally.

Miss James had turned to her looking really surprised. Do you know what happened to Lisa’s alligator Morgwyth?

Almost in tears, Morgwyth had nodded. I dropped it and it broke, she’d gulped, unable to stop tears. It was when you asked me to help tidy up the shelves yesterday. I took it home so mummy could glue it back together.

I see, Miss James had said nodding. Well accidents can happen Morgwyth, but you should have told me and let Lisa know. You should not have taken it home.

I know. I’m really sorry Miss James, Morgwyth had said. Miss James was really nice about it, even thanked Morgwyth for owning up. But you should be apologizing to Lisa.

From across the room Lisa had glared at Morgwyth.

CHAPTER THREE

MORGWYTH SIGHS, HER mind now back to this morning. She was hoping to put things right with Lisa, but it didn’t look promising, given Lisa’s snide remark to Teresa on their way into class. Morgwyth is sure Lisa meant her to hear those cruel words, she’s weird.

Morgwyth moves to her place at the table where three other girls are already seated. Amber sits across from her, but doesn’t look up as Morgwyth approaches; the other two have their eyes elsewhere and barely notice Morgwyth as she sits down. Gently she lowers her backpack to the floor next to her place at the table, mindful of the green perfectly repaired alligator sculpture, snuggled inside, carefully rolled up in bubble wrap.

Ok everyone! Make your way to the sculpture exhibit. Miss James has to shout above the din. Chair legs scrape across the tiled floor, everyone is talking at once, giggling, bumping into tables and each other. Morgwyth reaches into her backpack, pulls the wrapped alligator out and moves quickly toward Lisa. You can’t even see where it was broken, she says handing Lisa the sculpture. Lisa takes it without saying a word and unwraps it. Morgwyth watches her scrutinize every inch of it. You can’t see a single crack can you?

Lisa tosses her head and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. It’s not the same though, once it’s been broken. Turning from Morgwyth she places it with the other sculptures.

After you put your sculptures back please get your hobby list, Miss James calls from the middle of the room. We’re going to play the ‘All My Friends’ game. Quick as you can please. We need to make a circle over here. She spreads her arms wide. Holding hands please!

Quickly Morgwyth dashes toward her backpack and grabs her list of hobbies. Teresa is holding hands with Lisa but there’s no one on her other side yet. Morgwyth rushes forward and grabs her hand. Teresa takes it and smiles. Across the circle Amber and her group, always together, face them.

This is the fun part, Miss James says. Does everyone have their lists? Nods and yes’s confirmed she says, ok. The person in the middle, in this case Emily, must try and find someone who has the same hobby as one of the hobbies on her list. The rest of us in the circle have to tell her if the hobby she holds up is on their list. Emily can keep going until she finds a match. Then that person trades places with the person in the middle. Ready?

Morgwyth, Teresa calls from across the room. I could hardly believe we each had stone skipping on our list.

I know, Morgwyth says, quickly grabbing papers and pencils from her desk and stuffing them in her backpack. My dad taught me."

Lisa rushes toward Teresa laughing. It was so funny when Aarika said her hobby was kissing.

Teresa tries to stifle a giggle. I know. Did you see Omri’s face?

I thought I’d wet myself, Morgwyth says her hand over her mouth laughing. He was scared stiff she was going to kiss him.

Teresa turns to Morgwyth and laughs She almost did only he dodged her just in time.

Lisa is watching Morgwyth and Teresa laughing. She is not amused. Stepping between them, her back to Morgwyth she says, Trese. Guess what? I’ve got a new camera. It’s purple like the one you were looking at last week on your iPad.

Cool! Teresa says slinging her school bag over her shoulder. I might get one for my birthday because I want to photograph Amber Star and Snowflake.

Mine has a built in recorder as well, Lisa says hooking her arm throughTeresa’s.

Morgwyth picks up her backpack and quickly moves next to Teresa. Who’s Amber Star and Snowflake?

They’re Teresa’s ponies, Lisa cuts in moving closer to Teresa. We ride them when we go to the farm right Trese?

Yes, Teresa says looking at Morgwyth. It was brilliant you had animals as your hobby as well Morgwyth.

Me too, Lisa says. I have so many hobbies I couldn’t list them all.

Do you have any pets at home? Morgwyth asks Teresa.

Opening the door Teresa nods. Yes. We have a cat. He’s called Midnight because he’s all black. Teresa walks out first and holds the door open for Lisa and Morgwyth.

Do you want to go stone skipping? Morgwyth asks falling into step next to Teresa. There’s a river right near us. We could all go. I got eight skips once.

I’ll ask my mum, Teresa says walking to the school gate. But she worries about me going near water though. I usually go with my dad.

Are you allowed to go to the river by yourself ? Lisa asks leaning in front of Teresa to look at Morgwyth.

Not really, Morgwyth says. But I can ask my mum to come with us. And we can collect rocks there as well.

My dad’s been helping me collect rocks from different time periods, Teresa says. I’ve got loads; pink ones, bright green ones, purple, all sorts.

Can I see them sometime? Morgwyth asks walking beside Teresa. I love rocks. My mum does healing with them. She knows all the different properties in rocks.

Honestly? Teresa says. I’ll ask mummy when she’s feeling better.

Is your mum sick? Morgwyth asks as they reach the gate.

Not really sick, Teresa says looking at Lisa, their arms hooked together. She just gets bad headaches, right Lisa?

Yes, Lisa nods. Mummy takes care of her sometimes. Turning to Morgwyth she says. Our mums are best friends like Trese and me. Right Trese?

CHAPTER FOUR

MISS JAMES BENDS her head to the potted hyacinth on the windowsill breathing in the sweet scent. The air is soft, the breeze warm. About to turn from the window she spots Morgwyth sitting on the stone wall under the cherry tree, looking up, frowning at something that has caught her attention among the pink buds of the tree. She had been surprised, even shocked by some of the things Morgwyth says. She’s brilliant, but it’s more than that. It’s as if she has been here before. Her eyes move to Morgwyth’s drawing pinned to the wall with her other students’ artwork. The drawing reminds her of cave drawings she had seen in France; the simplicity of the lines around the four fish swimming in a circle, each connected, the heads holding the tail of the one in front, the bodies colored with pastel crayons in several shades of blue. And then the clay project. That was really something.

A few days ago Miss James had watched as Morgwyth held the cynodont skeleton she was using as a model. She was turning it over, studying every inch of the weasel like dinosaur, caressing the spine of its back. The skeleton was a particularly realistic one made from whale bone; she had found it in an old fishing tackle shop on one of her trips. Curious, Miss James had watched as Morgwyth carefully, almost reverently, placed the sculpture back on the shelf and stood for several minutes