Magnus

Magnus

What has gone wrong, and when did it happen? Magnus is standing in the kitchen, peering through the latticed window into the garden; absentmindedly noticing the weeds. That still needs doing as well, he sighs; just add it to the list of wrongs and troubles. He is worried, and even though he hates to admit it, in a small dark corner of his heart, he can feel a slither of fear, wriggling, growing…

Magnus tries to think back; back to before…well, before things went off track, and life ended up out of his control. He thinks of his large home, his Norse family, his beautiful mother, and something like homesickness stirs in him. “I miss you guys, I really do! Mum, I miss seeing your blue hair and your graceful way of moving. Björn, I miss your humour, your strength, your support…” Magnus stops, takes a deep breath, runs his fingers through his own blue hair, and groans. “Oh great! Now I’m talking to myself, moaning, complaining, and wanting my past back. This is not good, this is so not good!”

Abruptly Magnus turns away from the large window, strides out of the kitchen, though the light lounge; he walks quickly through the foyer with the beautiful door and windows, worried a friend might come in for a chat, and slips into the hobby room, unnoticed. “This won’t do, this moping around won’t help. It’s just…I just need someone to talk to, somebody who can understand.” For a split second an image slides through his mind. The image of his sweet wife, Esther, sitting outside near the beach, smiling, looking relaxed, praying to her invisible God. He laughs, a different laugh than the rest of the family is so used to. It’s a harsh, scornful noise, one that they have never heard before. “What good would that do? Speaking to a God like Esther’s God? She insists He has everything under control, and everything is for the best. Well, I don’t see much control! How can a God who allowed Himself to be killed be of any use! I could just do with some of Odin’s acquired wisdom right now…”

Magnus picks up his guitar, and plucks away with abandon; the wild music matching the turmoil inside his heart. He loves Esther, absolutely adores her. He is even pleased that Esther worships God, as it does make her happy, and loving and to be honest, anything Esther does pleases him really. He smiles, his music mellows whilst thinking about Esther. He thinks about their meet up, the ribbing from Björn beforehand, when he had spent ages getting ready for the party. He still can hear his own words to his handsome cousin, “Well, some of us know how to make a woman happy, you know! I’m going to marry that girl, and I want to do things properly. She deserves that; any woman deserves that, so it’s worth making an effort, isn’t it? Just to please her, to look like I value her…”

Björn had laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder, so Magnus had to struggle to suppress the coughing and spluttering it caused, as Björn would laugh even more! He could tell Björn was pleased though, and even a little proud of his little cousin! His sisters had looked at him with adoration and pride, wishing him well, saying how lucky Esther was, and how he was obviously in the good books of the gods. They made little jokes about Frey, and wondered out loud what he had paid this god to favour him so much… He had laughed with them, pleased as well; feeling grand and strong. He was definitely feeling like the rugged Viking that Esther wished for.

Their courtship had been wonderful, his face aching from smiling at this beautiful girl. She seemed so frail, and he just loved the feel of her small hands; loved it that he could pick her up and swing her round, making her squeal and go helpless with giggles. He liked how she asked his advice, and he loved giving it to her, watching the worry lines on her forehead smooth out and her eyes shine at him with admiration. She made him feel a man, her protector, her keeper, her husband. His guitar is singing along with the many dreamy memories, but at the word ‘protector’ he misses a note. The memory jarred, like the dropped note, and he frowns, music deep, restless. He remembers her at the Club, just before their wedding. “Only God can protect me, ultimately. No human being can fulfill all my needs, only God can. He has everything in His control.” Her voice sweet and clear, her soft smile and shining eyes focused on him, and he felt the beginnings of resentment growing in his heart. Jealousy, envy and resentment against this God. A God that he couldn’t see, and obviously couldn’t compete with in his wife’s heart.

He forces himself to slow down, to catch his breath, to stop grinding his teeth, and especially to go easy on the guitar. “One of these days a string will break. I should have gone for the yoga hobby.” He pulls a face straight away, “Nah, not my style; those leggings…Björn would have a fit if he saw me twisting and bending in those!” The music slows down with his heart rate, the tune becoming slower and sweeter, wistful, as Magnus remembers standing over the little bassinet. In his strong hands he could feel the cold, silver hammer, Thor’s hammer. He felt the smooth leather string, and he can see himself, bending over the empty bassinet, murmuring, pleading with Thor, Frey and Freya. Pleading with anyone, really, to give him a son, a true Viking son. He had finished, feeling his pleadings were starting to become more like begging, and of course, a Viking never pleads or begs! He had been desperate, but that was something nobody needed to know, not even the gods!

Just as he had finished, and was tucking the little hammer into the bassinet, Esther had come into the room. Her eyes had caught the little silver charm straight away, and she had asked him about it. He had explained it was a Viking token; said it was just a thing they did at home. She had smiled then, her beautiful smile that melts his heart every time. “Don’t you just love family traditions?” she had gushed, hugging him, snuggling close, breathing in his manly scent. “Our family hasn’t really got that many traditions, but I love them. Maybe, once we have children…” she had faltered, blushed almost as red as her hair, and continued, “once we have children we ought to establish traditions as well, don’t you think?” Ha, she didn’t know what she was asking! Think, with her around? He had noticed how all sensible thought fled before her…!

The music twangs away, sounding more like an Irish jig, going on an on, faster and faster, his dreamy smile growing bigger and bigger. He laughs, yes, he is a man in love! He was as sure as his sisters that the gods had favoured him. He thinks of the beautiful wedding, even though it seemed endless…he got tired of the tux after a while, it was too restrictive. He couldn’t lift his arms properly, and kept tugging at the material, as if there would be more of it all of a sudden. Esther looked like a princess, his princess. He just couldn’t take his eyes off her, her auburn hair glowing like…like…burnished gold, whatever that meant! He felt it just suited her…but then, gold was more yellow, wasn’t it? Oh well, who cares, he grins, strumming away, it was glowing, her face one big smile, her green eyes sparkling and dancing with delight. Yes, the wedding…

Then things had changed, and he wondered why the gods seemed turned against him all of a sudden. Not that he had realised straight away, I mean, it could just e a coincidence of course. Take the wedding reception, for example. Miriam wanted a wild party, a cheerful one, a bit garish, with Bright and Beautiful as theme. Samuel had agreed with his wife straight away. Esther didn’t; he remembered her face, he remembered the internal struggle visible in her eyes, as she said that she preferred a classy wedding. Magnus hadn’t cared either way; he had been to lots of parties, and always enjoyed them whatever the theme. In the end, Esther was overruled, and Bright and Beautiful it was. The day of the wedding reception came, and they were all dressed up in bright clothes, even Esther. Her smile had been genuine, and as bright as her outfit.

Magnus had wondered about that, as he had seen the disappointment and hurt in her face once the decision was made. He had expected her to go for the ‘beautiful’ in Bright and Beautiful, and although she was still very beautiful, she was definitely bright! Her face looked sunkissed, her eyes shining as ever, smile matching his. He had asked her about it, in a quiet moment, just before the onslaught of guests. Her answer had astonished him, and left him speechless. “I saw you looking at me, noticing my disappointment. I remembered telling you that I believed God was in control. I then wondered myself, that if God is in control, why do disappointing things happen, bad things happen, terrible things even… So I sat near the beach, and thought, and prayed, and I remembered what God says about His control. I understood, and I know I can trust Him, even when I face disappointments or grief…”

He had been astonished, wondering if she realised what she was saying. I mean, she was very disappointed, but sitting in the grass, talking to…to the sky made her trust…this unseen God, and suddenly she was no longer disappointed, but happily changed into a bright outfit, and her life is all sunshine again? Really? He also felt a little hurt and left out. He was her husband after all, and she never really discussed her hurt feelings with him. She never asked his advice on this party; she didn’t ask him how to deal with Miriam’s wild ideas. No, instead, she goes and finds a quiet spot to talk to her God. Magnus feels the resentment against this God growing, jealousy easily recognised now.

The party was a flop. Lots of people turned up; they actually reached level ten in no time, but hardly any of their friends were there! Magnus plays the guitar wilder and wilder, his heart beating as wild a rhythm as the guitar. “Not even Björn…or the girls… or anyone from my family made it! Even Esther’s stroppy sister Eva didn’t get in! Well, where was Esther’s God that day then? Why didn’t He control the party? What good was there in keeping our friends away, and just letting a bunch of strangers turn up?” Magnus feels the hurt, the grief still in his heart. He misses his family, and he had been so much looking forward to this party, desperate to show off his wonderful wife. He had planned out in his head what he would say to Björn, as long as Esther wasn’t nearby of course. Certain things you can tell your cousin, but without any ladies in earshot…

He sighs, still sad; disappointed in the party, although they did have a good time. He suddenly grins, of course they had a good time! Nobody will have a dull moment with Miriam and Samuel Vince around…let alone a dull party! He knew Miriam was a bit wild, but he’d never seen her at a party…goodness, poor Samuel, he’s got his hands full, he grins. Not just with Miriam and her outlandish schemes, but with his growing family as well. Samuel and Miriam have three children already! Every time the bassinet is empty they rush over, and claim the bassinet…again. Both Magnus and Esther have tried to be there first, but Miriam and Samuel seem absolutely determined, giggling, and laughing their wild laugh. No children have been granted to Magnus and Esther yet, in spite of their burning desire to have a family; a family of tiny, cute Vikings.

The grin drops, and so does the guitar. He manages to put the guitar on the stand, and walks as fast as he can without drawing attention to himself to the blue bathroom, hoping it is empty. There, in the quiet bathroom, he moans, leaning his head against the cool tiles. He hits his fist over and over on the tiles, groaning and gnashing his teeth to modulate his grief; grief that is rushing over him, drowning him, suffocating him. “Why, God, why…if You are there, and if You do care and love us, why… How can You stand by, how can You allow this to happen to us? Why…why! Is it because of me? Is it because I put the Mjölnir in the bassinet?”

He stops, gasps, and goes completely still. Not a sound can be heard, just the soft drip drip drip from the tap… He thinks about the little silver charm…wonders about it, mulling it over. He leans his head against the cold tiles, can still smell the very faint smell of new grout, and it makes him smile just a little. Esther had confessed to putting in the new tiles, to make it feel more Scandinavian, she had said. He sighs, allowing the coolness to calm him down, making it easier to think. He has to think; he has to weigh up his thoughts. It’s how he works; it’s how he deals with issues, and this is a huge matter; one that needs extra careful deliberation.

Mjölnir, Thor’s hammer, was the little silver amulet he had hidden in the bassinet. Was Esther’s God angry with him about that, and was that why He was punishing them both? Could that be it? Did her God need more sacrifices, more payment to be appeased, so both Thor and his other Norse gods would be happy as well as Esther’s God? Was it nothing to do with her God after all, and had he offended the Norse gods instead? How can he please them, pay them, bribe them even if necessary! Then he realises that it’s June, near the end of June…Midsummer Solstice…maybe…just maybe, there might be a chance; who knows, if he can please the gods at say, Stonehenge at the Summer Solstice, maybe they will grant him a son… Just maybe! Now to convince Esther to accompany him to Stonehenge…!