It came to me right after you’d left. It had been such bright fun, meeting with you again, I was fit to burst with it and I didn’t want to let it get by again. But I’m not a thinking man, Newt. I’m not big-knuckled up there like you. My craft is in my hands, and they were itching for a shape to bake that brightness in in as a keepsake, come what may. (More of that may to come.) And so I softened my butter and took a measure of flour and spices, and the dark brown sugar I’d meant to cook with tonight’s sausage, and I made a giant ginger bird. A thunderbread!
I stayed long after Henry and I had closed shop, waiting for the bread to rise, like the bird the last time I saw magic. My face ached from smiling, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t, Newt. Just the shock of you here, you hauling that blessed case up and onto my marble slab right next to my own glass case. I kept figuring that some little guy or other had scarpered again and was lost under a shelf, and once, I think, I said: ‘C’mon, buddy. Warmth and comfort for two over here.’ All the way loud. But there was nothing.
I wish you’d stayed longer, you and Queenie. But I get that she gotta be careful. She’s a real nice girl and I sure as hell hope they didn’t give her what for at that crazy capitol place where she works.
Speaking of. It’s been eating on me, that you’ve gone and taken a room at the Delta. By God, that joint! Been there myself when I knew and had no better. Heck, it’s where you and Miss G. – the sister – tracked me again, am I right? That how you got the address? But, Newt, it ain’t for you. They need to treat you better, whoever it is that got you here, you a man of letters and all. Or you need to shake that dirt off your feet and rest them here.
I mean it, Newt. Plenty of room upstairs where I live. And I could help with your folks like I did that night, feeding them and all. I’d love that. You didn’t say how long you’re staying but, long or short, you got an open voucher at Kowalski’s. Think on it?
Now, I’m gonna glaze that bread, just the beak and the tip of the wings, and I’m gonna stick a nip of candied orange for the eye. And then I’m gonna wrap it in waxed paper and keep it for you. Careful! Gingerbread’s fickle quick to dry up, and it spoils past a fortnight.
Top of the day to you, pal.
Jacob
----------------------------------
Queenie,
Is your head better? Is it something I did? I have this knack for talking too much – talk the hind legs off a ‘griff, Tease’s words – v. annoying – but you said you wanted the other fellows gone, and so did I. All of them. And Jacob was ever so chuffed! Nothing can keep him away from the sunny memories, Queenie, no rain, no drug of any sort. Not our Jacob. And they made his face so warm and excited – lit up by the gold inside, like Niffty’s treasure cave. Did you see it? I know I did.
But I saw you too. Saw you wipe your eyes, Queenie, with that paper bag you Accioed on the sly. Don’t think I didn’t.
I only have a fortnight left on my leave. Please, let us not part two sad people. Let me know what I can do.
Newt
-----------------------------------
Mr Graves, sir,
If I may respectfully bring the enclosed to your attention…
Pompey Abernathy Head Supervisor and Clerk-in-Command Wand Permit Office Magical Congress of the United States
Dear Mr Abernathy,
Please to note that I ain’t showing up at work today and won’t be all of the week, since my health requires a change of scene. I’ll be at Cagliostro’s Café, Chicago. Only don’t write me there, seeing that I’ll be undercover as a cigarette girl.
My best thanks for your understanding, Queenie Goldstein
--------------------------
Mrs A. J. Wanderbell and Miss Louella Wanderbell request the pleasure of your company on January the Twentieth, One Thousand Twenty-Seven, to honor Mr Newt Scamander ‘s poetic suite, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
Opening Talk by Mr Carlos Williams Carlos
A Themed Buffet Will Be Served At 7PM
Wanderbell Chateau, 660 Fifth Avenue, New York - RSVP
--------------------------
Hey Newt,
Excuse the choppy writing, as I’m doing the same on a train. Head’s better. I swear. Just, it got a bit of a bang from all the reading there I’d never planned on. Silly me, forgetting that minds can be loudest when happy too.
What can you do, honey? Well, here’s me telling you.
Don’t go back to England. Go back to Jacob’s. And when you see him, take him on the offer he’s gonna make you. Trust me on this. You were his first Portkey into magic, Newt. You still are. And I’m not a taker.
Fill - When the Clouds Roll By (5/?)
I made a thunderbird tonight,
It came to me right after you’d left. It had been such bright fun, meeting with you again, I was fit to burst with it and I didn’t want to let it get by again. But I’m not a thinking man, Newt. I’m not big-knuckled up there like you. My craft is in my hands, and they were itching for a shape to bake that brightness in in as a keepsake, come what may. (More of that may to come.) And so I softened my butter and took a measure of flour and spices, and the dark brown sugar I’d meant to cook with tonight’s sausage, and I made a giant ginger bird. A thunderbread!
I stayed long after Henry and I had closed shop, waiting for the bread to rise, like the bird the last time I saw magic. My face ached from smiling, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t, Newt. Just the shock of you here, you hauling that blessed case up and onto my marble slab right next to my own glass case. I kept figuring that some little guy or other had scarpered again and was lost under a shelf, and once, I think, I said: ‘C’mon, buddy. Warmth and comfort for two over here.’ All the way loud. But there was nothing.
I wish you’d stayed longer, you and Queenie. But I get that she gotta be careful. She’s a real nice girl and I sure as hell hope they didn’t give her what for at that crazy capitol place where she works.
Speaking of. It’s been eating on me, that you’ve gone and taken a room at the Delta. By God, that joint! Been there myself when I knew and had no better. Heck, it’s where you and Miss G. – the sister – tracked me again, am I right? That how you got the address? But, Newt, it ain’t for you. They need to treat you better, whoever it is that got you here, you a man of letters and all. Or you need to shake that dirt off your feet and rest them here.
I mean it, Newt. Plenty of room upstairs where I live. And I could help with your folks like I did that night, feeding them and all. I’d love that. You didn’t say how long you’re staying but, long or short, you got an open voucher at Kowalski’s. Think on it?
Now, I’m gonna glaze that bread, just the beak and the tip of the wings, and I’m gonna stick a nip of candied orange for the eye. And then I’m gonna wrap it in waxed paper and keep it for you. Careful! Gingerbread’s fickle quick to dry up, and it spoils past a fortnight.
Top of the day to you, pal.
Jacob
----------------------------------
Queenie,
Is your head better? Is it something I did? I have this knack for talking too much – talk the hind legs off a ‘griff, Tease’s words – v. annoying – but you said you wanted the other fellows gone, and so did I. All of them. And Jacob was ever so chuffed! Nothing can keep him away from the sunny memories, Queenie, no rain, no drug of any sort. Not our Jacob. And they made his face so warm and excited – lit up by the gold inside, like Niffty’s treasure cave. Did you see it? I know I did.
But I saw you too. Saw you wipe your eyes, Queenie, with that paper bag you Accioed on the sly. Don’t think I didn’t.
I only have a fortnight left on my leave. Please, let us not part two sad people. Let me know what I can do.
Newt
-----------------------------------
Mr Graves, sir,
If I may respectfully bring the enclosed to your attention…
Pompey Abernathy
Head Supervisor and Clerk-in-Command
Wand Permit Office
Magical Congress of the United States
Dear Mr Abernathy,
Please to note that I ain’t showing up at work today and won’t be all of the week, since my health requires a change of scene. I’ll be at Cagliostro’s Café, Chicago. Only don’t write me there, seeing that I’ll be undercover as a cigarette girl.
My best thanks for your understanding,
Queenie Goldstein
--------------------------
Mrs A. J. Wanderbell
and
Miss Louella Wanderbell
request the pleasure of your company on January the Twentieth, One Thousand Twenty-Seven,
to honor Mr Newt Scamander ‘s poetic suite, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
Opening Talk by Mr Carlos Williams Carlos
A Themed Buffet Will Be Served At 7PM
Wanderbell Chateau, 660 Fifth Avenue, New York - RSVP
--------------------------
Hey Newt,
Excuse the choppy writing, as I’m doing the same on a train. Head’s better. I swear. Just, it got a bit of a bang from all the reading there I’d never planned on. Silly me, forgetting that minds can be loudest when happy too.
What can you do, honey? Well, here’s me telling you.
Don’t go back to England. Go back to Jacob’s. And when you see him, take him on the offer he’s gonna make you. Trust me on this. You were his first Portkey into magic, Newt. You still are.
And I’m not a taker.Love,
Queenie