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Trick or Treat with Jas Howson

Year Three, Fourth Friday of October


The Glassblower


The morning was rusty, and the people of Talan were still tucked cosily away in their beds. All except the bakers, the baristas, the farmhands and – naturally – Francesca. She was conveniently an early bird as well as a night owl and functioned best, it seemed, on little sleep. There must just be something about the giddy feeling of sleep deprivation. 

Coffee in each hand, she sauntered from the inn down to the village square to meet Tidus. He had four hooves, long coiled hair and when she’d arrived there days ago, had been the first of the village to see her as something other than human. 


‘Morning,’ she held up a coffee to the centaur. He peered down at it for a little while longer and with a much more hesitant expression than Francesca had hoped for. Were you not supposed to offer coffee to centaurs? Was it poison? Had she just offered Tidus poison?


He snorted. ‘Well, I suppose a third cup wouldn’t hurt. Thank you.’ He added gently when he clocked her worried expression.


The pair walked in in silence for a while, chirping choirs coming from the trees around them as birds began to wake, before Francesca realised she didn’t actually know where they were going.


‘Thought I’d take you to see my friend. Best friend really– my brother. You’ll like him,’


They walked again through the babble of the village, children’s laughter adding to the birdsong. It mustn’t have been more than 5 minutes, everywhere in Talan being so close together, but the quiet winding paths, the creeping sun, the clean morning air seemed to slow the world down. It was so different to her mornings at the office. No gridlock, no burnt coffee, no rush. Just birdsong and laughter and the twinkling of windchimes throughout the village. They sounded how crystals looked in the sunlight, misting the roads of Talan with ethereal chimes. 


The pair of them slowed as they came to the end of the road.


A hefty figure stood in front of a shop, brushing a great clawed hand through a wind chime. Tidus reared and stomped his hooves down three times. His friend turned and a giddy look of recognition spread across his moss stained face. He charged at full force and butted heads together with the centaur, with a force that would’ve shattered Francesca’s skull should she have tried it.


‘Tee, this is Francesca. And Francesca,’ Tidus placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘This is Torrance.’ 


Torrance was an orc. Contrary to the other stereotypes her library books had debunked, orcs’ reputation remained consistent: brutish, dangerous and always unpredictable. The only thing about them that was predictable is that they would definitely kill and eat you. 


But in that moment the orc’s mouth spread wide, protruding tusks forming a childlike grin. He began waving his hands, making gestures Francesca didn’t understand.


‘He says he’s very pleased to meet you,’ 


The sick feeling in her stomach subsided. ‘Can you tell him thank you? Or– how can I say thank you?’


‘You can do this,’ Tidus touched his fingers to his chin then moved it away from his face. ‘But he’s pretty good at lip reading.’


She replicated the gesture ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘It’s nice to meet you too.’


The orc’s olive cheeks blushed pink. He signed excitedly, then beckoned her into the shop.


‘He wants to show you the shop,’ 


‘I gathered that.’ The human laughed as Torrance gently took her tiny hand in his. 


The workshop was filled with glass dishes, light bulbs and bowls all with the same swipes of colour dashed throughout as the glass windchimes.


‘It’s like walking through a rainbow…’


‘No this is better. Much less painful.’ Tidus mumbled. 


Torrance reached for a light shade that hung above Francesca and gave it a spin. The whole workshop danced as colours refracted off all the orc’s glass creations.


‘Clever chap isn’t he?’ Tidus marvelled at the spinning walls. 


Francesca sighed in agreement just as the orc trotted back through the workshop. He stood in the doorway of another room, then signed something to the centaur. 


Tidus nodded and turned, ‘Want to see some glass blowing?’


‘Yes!’ She clapped her hands excitedly which Torrance emulated without actually bringing his hands together. An applaud from hands that size would likely shatter all the work he’d created. 


They followed the orc through the cave of crystalline sculptures and watched from a small distance as he took a long metal pole and dunked it into a vat of liquid gold. As he effortlessly lifted the pole, a glowing trail of molten glass trickled in spirals. Torrance then methodically turned the pole ending the trail – like you do when scooping marmite from the jar – and, shifting the pole between his fingers, turned to face his entranced audience. 


His cheeks inflated like airbags as he puffed air into the not yet formed glass sculpture, and then the orb at the end of the pole expanded, bright and yellow as if the orc were wielding the sun. His humble workshop the milky way, his sculptures the stars and his two spectators revolving mesmerically throughout his galaxy. 


‘See those?’ Tidus jutted his chin to a cluster hanging glass lanterns, and Francesca nodded ‘That’s what he’s making,’ there was a slight waver to his voice like that of an excited child.


Torrance hoisted the molten glob into what until now Francesca had believed to be a bowl of little sweets. He rolled the constantly cooling orb through the unfortunately inedible shards of coloured glass and continued to puff and rotate the lantern until it was just about the same size as his head. He fixed the pole horizontally on a stand then signalled for his small new friend to come over. He picked up a pair of metal tweezers and mimed snipping the top of the lantern, then handed the oversized tweezers to the hesitant human and slipped his hands into a pair of enormous gloves. The orc nodded to her reassuringly as she cut at the glass and then he released the orb from the pole and transferred it into a large oven. He gave a satisfied grunt then turned to the gleaming human and they ‘clapped’ their hands in unison. 


‘Can I try the glass blowing?’ she asked on an adrenaline high. 


The orc chuckled and signed.


‘He says you can definitely try,’ Tidus translated. ‘A lot of emphasis on the ‘try’.’ 


And try she did. So hard in fact that she very nearly fainted. Torrance took over after her pitiful puffs of air and cradled a very mottled and distorted sphere of glass to the oven. 


‘How on earth does he do it?’ she sat in a slump on a work bench breathing heavily. 


‘Strongest lungs in Tallan.’ Tidus patted her on the back as Torrance shuffled over with a hot tray of something that smelled sweet and nutty. 


‘Best get one of those down you unless I’m to carry you all the way back to the inn.’ said the centaur reaching for a steaming flapjack. 


Francesca selected one of the warm wedges and took a slow bite. Her teeth sank into the gooey centre, and it melted in her mouth, buttery and sweet with a hint of almond and a texture of something she couldn’t quite put her finger–


‘Glacé cherries…’ she mumbled through syrupy lips. She turned to the orc who was sat beside Tidus twiddling his thumbs and clearly awaiting her feedback


‘Torrance you made these?’


He nodded shyly.


‘They’re heavenly…’ 


‘Jack of all trades our Torrance is,’ Tidus gave him a playful punch on the arm – Francesca wondered if he’d even have felt it. ‘Glassblower by day, baker by night.’


The orc grinned wide, and a low rumbling chuckle spread throughout the shop making all the glass chatter. 


‘Right,’ Tidus rose. ‘We should get off.’


The three walked to the entrance of the workshop and Torrance reached his great arms around his old friend and his new friend for a hug. Orc hugs, as Francesca immediately determined, were the coziest hugs in the world and she would’ve gladly stayed put forever if Torrance hadn’t quickly let go, grunted as if he’d forgotten something, and trotted back into his shop. 


He returned with an old battered cake tin, red and faded with white hearts, and a slightly crumpled piece of parchment. The tin he handed to Tidus, for it was as wide as one of Francesca’s arms was long, and the paper to her. 


‘You’re giving me the recipe?’ she half whispered in excitement. 


Torrance reached a hand down and ruffled her wispy hair playfully – his hand was like an oversized builders helmet on her head. She giggled and peered back down at the parchment.



 

Photo by: Neil Crosby, https://www.flickr.com/photos/thevoicewithin/4282608802

Torrance’s Cherry and Almond Flapjacks


Ingredients 

  • 225g oats

  • 110g brown sugar

  • 170g butter (or use a vegan baking block)

  • 55g golden syrup

  • 55g plain flour

  • 200g glacé cherries

  • 1 tsp almond extract


Instructions

  1. Preheat oven to Gas Mark 4/180 degrees C (350 F).

  2. Grease and line a cake tin.

  3. Melt the butter, sugar and syrup in a small pan.

  4. Stir in the oats, almond extract and cherries (which you can chop as you like or leave whole). 

  5. Tip into the cake tin and press the edges down with the back of a spoon so all is even.

  6. Bake the flapjacks for 25-30 minutes or until lovely and golden brown.

  7. Best enjoyed warm with a cup of tea after a heavy session of glass blowing.


 

Ice Queen Interviews Jas Howson

Ice Queen: What made you submit to this Trick-or-treat issue?


Jas: I think it’s a neat idea to have an issue specifically around Halloween time, even if people’s pieces aren’t necessarily ‘on vibe’ there’s something about the season that’s really cosy. This piece was special to me and so I wanted to submit it somewhere a lot of people would see it, which is why I love the community-based nomination process.


Ice Queen: Tell me about "The Glassblower". What made you want to showcase that?


Jas: I had an idea for this cosy, teddy-bear like character a while ago. Someone who exudes comfort and calm – Torrance is that character. If you could take all the connotations of comfort and turn them into something physical, it would be him and I really wanted to share this character with the world.


Ice Queen: Tell me about the recipe you chose. What made you want to showcase that?


Jas: The flapjack recipe is the one my Mum sent me off to Uni with. It feels like home, and it tastes like heaven. I don’t make it often because I want it to remain a really special treat.


Ice Queen: Favorite family/personal recipe?


Jas: Probably my Amaretto Tiramisu I make at Christmas. I’ve made it every year for as long as I can remember, and it gets better every time I make it.



Ice Queen: What is your relationship to food in your writing?


Jas: I’ve had a complicated relationship with food for most of my life, but in the past few years I’ve fallen in love with baking. I love to write about it now – most of my writing encompasses something food or baking related.


Ice Queen: What do you love about food in writing?   


Jas: Everyone loves food. And having something that universally loved in writing – and especially in my case, Fantasy writing – it’s grounding for the reader. Travis Baldree’s Legends & Lattes is amazing for this.



Ice Queen: Do you bake or cook a lot, and how/when did you get into it?


Jas: My Mum is a cake designer, so I’ve been baking forever. I’ve always enjoyed it but when I went vegan a couple years ago I fell in love with it all over again – I got to re-learn how to make all my old favourites.


Ice Queen: What are some of your favorite literary magazines?


Jas: My favourite mags at the moment are Beestung – they publish work from non-binary and other gender non-conforming identities, and Mosaic Literary Journal who publish work from primarily unpublished young writers.


 

Jas Howson is a non-binary writer of poetry and short fiction. Within their work they explore the queer experience, themes of mental health, neurodiversity, fantasy and magic realism. They are an editor for the Ardent Lies Literary Journal and have had work published in Cake Magazine and Mosaic Lit Journal. Jas’ mum is a cake designer, and legend has it they’ve been baking sweet treats since before they could talk.

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