Compacting lives

“Explain to me why we must do this again!” said Lancelot. “I did not see the point of doing it last time and it will keep me from working on my Hero’s To Do List!”

“Well, I think it is fun!” replied Elaine. “But this time I want a larger case.”

Little Plump Jo, the current Artisan in Residence in Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies, had required her main characters to condense the expanse of their lives into portable packages to show a potted history of their lives back in November 2022, in reply to a NaNoWriMo prompt. And now she was asking them to do it again!

Last time Elaine knew straight away what she wanted to include.

She did not want to bring much from her early incarnation as Elaine the Fair, Elaine the Lovely, the Lily Maid of Astolat. All that she wanted to retain and exhibit from that period of her life were samples of her weaving, tapestry and embroidery work. She would also include her brush and comb, which were reminders of her mother who had died when she was a child.

However from her new life as Lady Charlotte-Elaine, The Lady of Shalott, from the Artists’ Studio in The Tower on the Island of Shalott and the entrepreneur owner of Charlotte’s Web Weaving, she had much that she had wanted to pack.

She needed her complete wardrobe, she said, not only to be suitably dressed for any occasion, but also to demonstrate her mastery of many different spinning, weaving, embroidery and beading techniques.

She had also wanted to pack all the huge tapestries she was commissioned to provide for the walls of the Great Hall at Camelot.

When reminded that her packages needed to be easily carried, she settled for taking a few of her robes, each showing a different skill, the parchment rolls with the plans for the commissioned works, and a selection of the sleeve tokens that she made from the scraps left over from her projects. She had also taken the doggie coats she had designed for her little French poodle rescue dog, Fitzroy.

Lancelot, who at that time had recently been able prove his position as the High Prince, heir to the throne of Benoic, when given the same task, had waved an imperious hand and said “My pages will attend to that. They will load several pack horses with my arms and accoutrements.”

Little Plump Jo had not allowed him to evade the issue so easily.

“You must be able to fit what you take in a small package that can be easily carried,” she told him. “What would you take as souvenirs from your various exploits and personal items of significance and value to you? Are there things which are so private that you would not want your pages to pack them and would want to pack yourself and carry them on your person?”

“Do you think I am Samson to share with you the secrets of my health and strength which you could use to entrap me?” he had grumbled.

“Come on. I am sort of like your biographer. You can trust me!” Jo said. “ I know most of your secrets anyway, from when we played the Johari’s windows game to make a profile card for you. What small items or souvenirs would you carry with you?”

“I would carry the keys to Joyous Garde (which used to be The Dolorous Tower) including the keys to the pillar and the box. I would take sufficient money in diamonds and coins to pay for myself and my party on the journey.”

“What personal items would you take?” persisted Jo.

“I would take soap – the substance given to me by Merlin to aid in shaving and bathing.

Good for attracting Guinevere too, as in the film Sword of Lancelot, thought Jo.

“What else?”

“I have to take my herbals. I carry some on my person and my battle companion/ assistance dog, Heureux, also carries a pouch of them on his collar.”

“Is there anything else? Is there anything you could send to a loved one perhaps, to prove a message came from you?”

“I do have a ring given to me by Queen Guinevere.”

But this time the prompt was rather different.

It read ‘Write a story about someone who must fit their entire life in a single suitcase.’

Elaine considered that to mean her entire life since she switched identity from Elaine of Astolat to The Lady of Shalott and therefore she had no need to include souvenirs of her childhood. And she was no longer the tragic figure whose mementos of her time with Lancelot would be linen bandages and unguents.

But she had created many more weavings, tapestries, fabrics and beadwork since she last completed this exercise and she wanted a larger suitcase this time.

Little Plump Jo checked the Internet and downloaded some diagrams showing the dimensions of suitcases. She was not convinced that Elaine would be able to fit all the belongings she wished to take into even the largest of the cases.

And the next day, when Jo checked her Facebook feed she found herself bombarded with advertisements for the brand of suitcase she had being searching!

While Elaine had undergone a complete change in character and motivation, her age had remained the same. Lancelot on the other hand, remained true to his character and motivation; but his life had been reset to the age he was when The Lady of Shalott first saw him riding by her tower.

He was now no longer 42 but was certainly no older than 24. He was the idealistic young man who had ridden down to Camelot singing Tirra Lirra, confident in his ability and invincibility; and under the illusion of the possibility of being able to give his life in service to his king and simultaneously give his heart in a pure chaste love to his queen. He still had his Hero’s To Do List to complete and was working his way through the adventures.

Little Plump Jo’s five overexcitable canine companions, the Dabrowski Dogs, were all eager to help with the selection and packing of the suitcases. Psych Motor Dabrowski rushed from room to room grabbing bolts of material and dragging in half finished embroidery projects for Elaine.

“Get as much in as you can; and then I will bounce on it to tamp it down, and then you can put more in!” he yelped.

“Put in some lavender bags,” barked Sensual Dabrowski “and make sure you have all the colours and textures included. Don’t you just love the swishing sounds those gowns make!”

“Ow, ow, ow, ooooooooooo,” howled Emotional Dabrowski. She was thinking about the memories  – the happiness, pride, tears of sadness, joy, and mirth, the doubting of self-worth, and fears that could not be rationally explained attached to each item being packed.

While Psycho Motor continued to fetch, bounce and pack in Elaine’s belongings, aided by suggestions from Sensual and emotional support from Emotional, Intellectual Dabrowski and Imaginational Dabrowski set about helping Lancelot.

It was not an easy task because Lancelot considered it to be a waste of his valuable time. He had evil to overcome, prisoners to free, a moat to swim, a cart to ride, a sword bridge to cross, damsels to save, and Arthur’s 12 Glorious Wars to fight.

Intellectual Dabrowski did not consider that Lancelot had actually fought beside King Arthur in the wars; but some of the stories said that he had. Initially Intellectual had not wanted to acknowledge Lancelot at all; as he declared that he was not an original historical member of Arthur’s knights. Lancelot was a later addition to the Arthurian legends.

But as Intellectual started to research Lancelot as a fictional character, rather than a historical one, he found that Lancelot was actually a complex and very interesting character.

As he started to think about Lancelot this way he stared at him.

Lancelot stared back, expecting Intellectual to avert his gaze.

But Intellectual continued to stare.

Lancelot was not accustomed to losing a staring contest. He had faced down lions. But he could not best Intellectual.

“I surrender, bon chien” he said.

But Intellectual continued to stare.

“What is your problem?” he asked.

“I am NOTICING you!” declared Intellectual. “And I must say it is actually very interesting. I am being careful not to see you through the lens of my previous perceptions of you; but to look at you with fresh appreciation.”

“And what do you notice?”

“Well, in all my travels I have never met anyone quite like you. (Reference King Pellinore in Camelot Act II)”  said Intellectual, putting down a paw print to remind himself to locate the proper citation. “You are a mystery, a paradox, an enigma, an oxymoron!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Who are you calling a moronic ox? Don’t you offend my master!” rumbled Heureux.

“Quiet, Heureux! He is not offending me. Oxymoron is like a contradiction, n’est ce pas?”

“It is.”

“So what puzzles you?”

“Well, for a starter, whether you are real or not.”

“For example – exactly how old are you? You look far too young to have done all the things which are credited to you.”

“I do not know. All the records were lost during the sacking of Benoic. Sometimes I claim to be a certain age in order to participate in jousts and wars. So I am probably younger than the records would indicate. Also people say I resemble my grandfather; and that he always looked like a young man, even in extreme old age.”

And this was what was causing the problem with packing for Lancelot.

This time he must fit his entire life in a single suitcase.

There were so many vastly contradictory versions telling the entire story of his life. While Elaine was now a new character, with a yet to be discovered future, Lancelot’s full life story had been told many times in many different languages, through many centuries. How could you possibly pack all those stories into one suitcase?

“We could get one of those roller compactus library storage units,” suggested Imaginational.

“Oh Imaginational, you are absolutely impossible!” growled Intellectual. “All those really old manuscripts are housed in museums and libraries with exacting standards of atmospheric care. We could not afford to buy them and set up the atmosphere control. And anyway, it would not fit the brief (ha, ha) of fitting the entire life into a single suitcase.”

“Then what about micro-fiche and USB sticks?”

“That could work; until the technology becomes outdated and is no longer supported; so that the information cannot be retrieved. What do you think of that solution, Lancelot?”

“I do not know. I do not care. I will let you decide. I must leave now. I am scheduled to arrive at the very last possible moment to save a damsel from certain death. Au revoir!”