Potion for a Rainy Day

Jane leaned heavily against the soft velvet lounge chair while she gazed out at the dreary garden. Everything, from the sagging pine trees lining the outskirts of the dark forest, to the plots of sulking motherwort and mandrake flowers were steeped in a heavy grey. Even Jane’s own reflection in the grand window panes of her grandmother’s library was pale and sad, like a bored ghost floating aimlessly. The sound of the rain endlessly rapping against the glass stuffed her ears like cotton, and made her thoughts muddled. 

For Jane, visits to her grandmother Camilla’s woodland estate were the highlight of her summer. They were often spent exploring the mysterious pine forests, playing chase with the old family cat, watching the stars through her grandmother’s telescope in the observatory, or reading stories late at night by the fire. No matter the activity, grandmother Camilla always had a way of sprinkling in a little bit of magic into every moment. Being a witch of course, magic was abundant in Camilla’s household, and it seemed to present fixes for everything. With only a flutter of her fingers grandmother Camilla could cause faraway objects to levitate towards her, make messes disappear in the blink of an eye, and cause toys to spring to life and dance on wooden legs. Today however, magic couldn’t force the clouds to disperse, or the sun to creep out, or even slow the pounding of the rain. 

Jane would only have to sit and wait at the windows, longing for the sunshine so she could go out and search for slugs and worms in the dirt while her grandmother tended the garden. There were no new exciting tales to be read from the vast old library; the cat was off somewhere curled up in a deep sleep; the stars were all hiding away waiting for nightfall; and grandmother Camilla was busy downstairs brewing strange elixirs and potions. 

So Jane sat watching the rain, her spirits sagging like the cushions of the red velvet chair. She desperately wished for a chance to watch her grandmother working at her cauldron. To young Jane, alchemy was the most enchanting thing in the world. From thick murky brews, to bubbling blue viles, there was simply nothing more exciting than the magic and mystery of her grandmother’s homemade elixirs. Sadly, grandmother Camilla was much too nervous to allow Jane anywhere near her workshop full of witchcraft and potions. This left Jane with nothing to do but wander up and down the narrow hallways of the massive house, dragging her feet over the musty carpet and pounding her lagging feet over every creaky step of the stairs. 

From deep in her workshop below the house, grandmother Camilla ran her finger down the soft pages of her ancient potions book. She focused intently, sweat breaking out over her brow from the heat of her bubbling mixture. Carefully she measured out a cup of dried nufflebutter berries, making sure not to drop any extra into the concoction. 

It was peaceful down in the basement. Camilla tapped her foot rhythmically and hummed while she stirred the thick mixture. The scratchy sound of opera music played from her gramophone over the droning rain in the background. Heavy smells of summer storms and wet grass wafted from the bubbling cauldron through the cozy candlelit room. Camilia smiled to herself as she continued creating her magical elixir, thinking of the smile her potion would bring to her granddaughter’s face. 

Suddenly, the sound of pounding feet broke through the peaceful atmosphere of the workshop. Camilia sighed as the pounding got louder, causing the floors of the kitchen above her head to rattle and the soft flames of the candles to flicker. She had thought her granddaughter Jane was busy. The last time she had checked up on her she was peacefully playing games of kingdoms and knights with her wooden dolls in the library. From the sound of it, Jane was no longer preoccupied. 

“Grandmother! Grandmother!” Jane sat wailing on the floor of the kitchen. The rain was not clearing up, and she was at her wits end. “Grandmother where are you?” 

Camilia shook her head and waved her hand through the air, causing the fire beneath the cauldron to extinguish and the lid to float from the floor and settle over the bubbling brew. She turned on her heel and made her way to the bookshelf on the far end of the workshop. Pulling her glasses over her eyes, she bent down and began reading the spines of dusty leather books. 

“Guide to Herbs and Spices, Magic Potions Volume II, Advanced Alchemy,” She muttered to herself. “Ah here it is, Secret Lever to Hidden Door.” Camilla pulled the hefty book forward, and with a tremendous creeking the bookshelf opened up to reveal a spiraling staircase. Camilla took to climbing the stairs, and soon, emerged through a hidden doorway in the pantry. 

Jane sprung to her feet as her grandmother swept into the kitchen. The room was suddenly filled with the scent of vanilla and lavender, and the lights began to glow brighter at the presence of the great and powerful witch. Grandmother Camilla stopped to stand above Jane, looking great and powerful indeed with her stern eyes framed by sharp silver glasses and gloved hands positioned on her hips. 

“Jane,” said grandmother Camilla, her voice steady. “What is all this ruckus about? I told you I was working didn’t I?”

Jane fixed her gaze to her sneakers, feeling a prickle of shame along with a buzzing of curiosity. Where in the world had her grandmother come from so suddenly? She thought. 

“Sorry grandmother, I didn’t mean to disrupt you, it’s just...” Jane’s voice changed to a whine, high and tight like the strings of a plucky guitar. “I’m so bored! The weather is so rainy and gloomy and I have nothing to do.” Jane pouted, her mouth pressed into a little frown and her brow furrowed. 

Camilla sighed again. “Jane darling you are a big girl, surely you can come up with something fun to do on your own,” she tried to reason. Jane wasn’t quite having it. 

“Nooo! I want to do alchemy with you grandmother!” Jane clasped her hands together and looked up at Camilla, here eyes wide and hopeful like the full moon. She bounced on her toes, causing her skirt and pigtail braids to hop up and down. “Please let me help, I will be super careful, the best assistant ever. I will sit still and not fidget or touch anything unless I am told.”

Camilla’s expression softened. Of course she wanted to share the art of potion making with her granddaughter, but she was not yet certain if Jane was mature enough to listen and be completely safe in the workshop. There were so many chances for a child to get burned or stung or perhaps even poisoned. 

“Oh, Jane. You know it’s dangerous around a cooking potion. When you are older I will teach you alchemy I promise.”

Jane huffed. “But grandmother, you said that I am a big girl! Please grandmother I am so bored.” Jane had pulled out all her tricks; the quivering lip, the begging eyes, the clasped hands.  Camilla bit her cheek. As great a sorceress as she was, there was no spell or potion in the world that could overpower a skillful guilting from a little girl. 

“Alright then,” Camilla said, but she was unable to continue as Jane burst into a frenzy of excited cheers. Her granddaughter squealed and twirled, the frills of her skirt fluffing like clouds and the toes of her slippers squeaking like squirrels. 

“Yes! Yes! Thank you grandmother thank you!” She celebrated. 

“Ah!” Camilla interjected, putting up a gloved finger. Jane stopped suddenly, her eyes returning to innocent moons. “You must calm down and behave. You will not touch anything unless I tell you, and you will not approach the cauldron unless I allow you!”

Jane nodded profusely. “Of course, of course!”

---

Jane sat as still and stiff as a log on the stool beside the bookshelf. A few feet away, her grandmother was hunched over her large metal cauldron, waving her hands and scooping the steam from the brewing potion towards her nose. She looked like a ballerina from one of Jane’s storybooks as she gracefully swept her hands in large arcs and circles, tossing dashes of strange plants and sprinkles of fizzing liquids into the mix. Her hips swayed back and forth while she stirred the pot, as if she were doing a slow dance with the crooked wooden spoon. 

Jane could hardly contain her excitement as she waited to see the result of the potion. She was determined to stay as quiet and patient as possible. One might have never even realized she was there had they not been paying close enough attention. Camilla of course, was keenly aware of her granddaughter’s stillness. 

Camilla turned away and opened the supply cabinet. She reached back, rifling around until she finally reemerged, holding in her hand a small vial of clear liquid. She smiled playfully to Jane, whose entire body perked up at the sight of the strange liquid. 

“You may come over here Jane,” Camilla said, extending out her hand. Jane leaped down from the stool and hopped to her grandmother’s side. Camilla placed her hand on the young girl’s shoulder, and with the other wiggled her fingers to produce two woolen mittens and a pair of goggles in a cloud of mist. “Put these on, they will protect you from the smoldering pot and any splattering liquid, ” she said. Jane obeyed, putting on the safety goggles and oversized mittens faster than Camilla could say Elderberry Elixir. 

Jane watched in fascination as her grandmother unscrewed the cap of the vial and held it up to her nose. Camilla took a deep breath in before letting out a long sigh, her face relaxing into a blissful smile. 

“Can I smell it?” Jane asked, leaning in closer. Camilla handed the liquid over and Jane took a long whiff, then another, and another.

“I’m confused,” Jane said, her nose scrunched up in a disappointed expression. “I don’t smell anything.”

Grandmother Camilla took the vial back and began measuring it into a small silver spoon. “Of course not,” she said, screwing the cap back on and returning the jar to the depths of the old wooden cabinet. “It takes a very trained nose to pick up on the smell of collected rainwater.”

“Rainwater?” Jane asked, her eyes squinted in confusion from behind her safety goggles. 

“Oh yes! Rainwater contains a great magic, one that holds memories and feelings from countless years past. I’ve been collecting this rainwater over the course of a great many years. Each storm imbues the liquid with a distinct magical memory. When I smell this rainwater,” grandmother Camilla held the vial to her nose once again, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, “I smell my childhood. When I was a little girl just like you, I would spend my rainy days baking cinnamon bread with my mother, your great-grandmother. We would tell jokes and stories by the stove while waiting for it to bake. I can still smell the spicy cinnamon, the brown sugar, the damp summer air…” Jane listened intently as her grandmother began to trail off, waiting for her next words. “One day, darling, you will be able to smell all the wonderful memories collected from rainy days like these, and you will realize how much you took them for granted.”

Then Camilla handed the silver spoon of the magical rainwater over to Jane. She took it gently in her mitten, being sure not to spill a single memory infused drop. 

“Alright now,” grandmother Camilla said, taking a step back and allowing Jane to approach the cauldron, “put it in, it's the most important ingredient.”

Jane tipped the contents of the spoon into the gurgling brown potion and Camilla began to stir, stopping after a few moments to give Jane a turn. Slowly, the dense mud-like liquid began to thin out and change to a milky chocolate brown. With a final wave of her hand, Camilla magically put out the fire beneath the cauldron and materialized two large mugs into her hands. She took the spoon from Jane and began scooping the potion into the mugs. Jane watched, feeling her anticipation and curiosity rising in her like the dancing candle flames. 

Once both the mugs were filled grandmother Camilla turned and began making her way to the secret door, which was not much of a secret now that Jane knew about it. Oh well. Though Camillia. I suppose it was time for her to learn anyways. “Follow me now, these drinks are best enjoyed in the library, where we can hear the rain hitting the windows. Oh and leave your goggles and mittens on the stool.” she said. Jane was once again puzzled. 

“But why must we listen to the rain grandmother?” she questioned as she tore off her goggles and mittens before bounding up the stairs after her grandmother. Camilla felt Jane bump against her leg, almost causing her to drop one of the mugs. She steadied herself and smiled. 

“You’ll see.”

Sitting side by side on a red velvet lounge chair, the two looked out at the misty grey garden, listening to the rain as it pounded on the windows. Carefully, Camilla handed Jane the steaming mug. 

“Grandmother what is this potion called?” Jane asked, staring into the swirling brown liquid. She was beginning to pick up on a faint chocolatey scent, with a hint of lavender and vanilla. 

“It’s called Potion for Rainy Days darling,” Camilla said, putting an arm over her granddaughter’s shoulders and leaning into the cushions of the couch. “Take a sip.”

Slowly, Jane tipped her mug back and sipped the potion. It was sweet and fruity with a warm taste of something earthy and fresh, like the air of a summer morning just after a stormy night. 

“Mmm,” Jane said. She took a big gulp, then another. Gradually, strangely, she began to feel the world around her shift. Jane looked up, and somehow, the library felt a little brighter than it did before. “Grandmother what’s going on?”

“Shh darling, listen to the rain.” 

So Jane did. She listened and heard the familiar pitter patter of each drop on the roof, on the windows, on the dirt; only this time it was different. Jane continued listening intently as the endless droning of the rain transformed into a corus of music. The sound of the rain was taking shape into a mystical symphony. She heard the tinkle of a xylophone, the gentle ringing of a bell, the joyous shaking of a tamborine, until her ears were full of music as light and free as the cool evening breeze. Jane leaned into her grandmother, nuzzling her face into her soft wool shawl. 

“It’s beautiful grandmother,” she said, smiling and clutching her mug to her chest. And it truly was a beautiful day.