Why I Let My Hair Grow Out (18 page)

BOOK: Why I Let My Hair Grow Out
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“Oh!” I said in dismay. “That's enough flowers for now, Fergus. Let's see if we can replant that one. It would look very nice by the front door.”
Fergus dropped the shrub. “There is some commotion by the castle!” he announced. “The jewelry maker is threatening to leave! She says she will never come back!”
Cúchulainn's eyes turned into two blinking red turn signals. “Says she!” he growled, heading for the door. “I'll bring her back, never fear.” A dust cloud started to whirl in a tiny spiral above his head.
“Guys!” I shouted, as I jumped up and body blocked the door. The goat spied the pile of flowers that fell out of my lap and started munching. “Relax! She has to be
willing
. That's the whole point. Calm down. Give her some space.”
“You talk to her, Morganne,” Fergus begged. “You found Erin, and you found the woman of fire and gold. Surely only you can help this woman find her own will to marry King Conor.”
I suspected he was right, but I also suspected that the jewelry woman and I could not resolve this alone. “I'll talk to them both,” I said.
“Don't trouble the king about this matter,” said Cúchulainn.
“I have to,” I said. “It takes two to tango.”
The word
tango
echoed in my head. I had a sudden feeling that I'd stumbled on to something, but what was it?
“To what?” asked Fergus.
“To dance,” I said, holding my arms out to him. Fergus joyfully hurdled over the goat to embrace me, and I let him nibble on my neck while I tried to figure out what I might say to the king and this woman to help true love blossom.
 
 
“i hate to say this, but he really is a pig. have you ever seen him eat?”
“It's not my fault!” cried the king. “I'm under a spell!”
“Right. And I'm Queen of the Faeries.”
This was not going well.
I racked my brains. Other than my months with Raph, I didn't have much relationship experience to bring to bear as a couples' counselor. My parents got along pretty well, I guess, but I'd never thought about why. They were Mom and Dad, they were together, I took it for granted. Which I shouldn't have, since half the kids at school had parents who were either divorced or so cold and mean to each other that their children wished they were.
By the time I'd arrived at the castle, someone had finally bothered to find out that the jewelry woman's name was Dana. Now the three of us were sequestered in the king's royal chambers, with the usual gang of armed warrior-dudes standing guard at the door.
Dana gestured to them. “You see what it's like here? How could a person live like this? It's so tense!”
Conor pounded his fist. “I'm a king! I have responsibilities! You want me to walk away from all that? Who's going to pay the bills?”
Dana crossed her arms. “I may not own a castle, but I have a thriving business, remember? I've been paying my own way for quite some time, and if you think that just because you were born a king you can boss me around, you are talking to the wrong woman.”
Conor turned to me and threw his hands up. “You see? She's impossible. Are you sure she's the right one?”
“Hear that? He's not even interested in me!” She was just as mad. “He only cares about this stupid spell. Once it's broken, who knows what will happen to me?”
“You make me sound like an ogre,” the king grumbled.
“Don't talk to me about ogres,” she snapped. “I've dated ogres, and it was damned exciting, I have to tell you.” She leaned back on the tufted cushions. “That doesn't mean I'd marry one.”
There was something about the way these two argued. Like they'd been together for years and years. Instant chemistry, but they'd really gotten off on the wrong foot, what with her being kidnapped and him being under a spell and all.
We argued like an old married couple the moment we met.
That's how Lucia described her first meeting with Jack Faraday. Could these two be soul mates as well? Maybe, but how could I get them to stop arguing and realize that for themselves?
“Do either of you guys know how to tango?” I said, impulsively. Since the tango had not been invented yet, I was pretty sure the answer would be no.
“No,” they said in unison. It was the first thing they'd agreed on.
“Good,” I said. “I'll teach you.”
Why the tango? it Was the Only two-person dance i knew, and I only knew it because Sarah was the dance lead in the school production of the musical
The Pajama Game
freshman year and she had to do the big tango number. She'd taught me the guy's part so she could practice. We'd had some hilarious good times dancing around and knocking stuff over in her living room, believe me.
But now I was going for romance, not comedy. I needed King Conor and Dana to hold hands and put their arms around each other's waists and shut up long enough to feel the chemistry that was lurking underneath the surface. The tango would be the magic love spell this strawberry-blond goddess was about to cast over the sparring, star-crossed couple, and I really hoped it worked because I didn't know what else to do.
One rather silly-sounding worry crossed my mind as I coaxed my two dancing students into position: Was there any chance that introducing the tango to ancient Irish culture at this point in time would change the course of history? Prime Directive purists would say,
You betcha
, but come on—it was just a little dance.
 
 
the Only tango music i knew Was “hernando's Hideaway” from
The Pajama Game,
as plunked out on an out-of-tune piano on Sarah's rehearsal tape. I couldn't remember any of the words, so we had to settle for me singing and clapping, “Bum, de bum, de bum bum bum!”
I taught them the steps I could remember and made up the rest, and over the course of the afternoon I managed to get King Conor and Dana doing a very basic, half-remembered version of a high-school musical version of a Broadway show version of the tango. Authentic? Hell no, but that wasn't my goal.
“Whoops! I stepped on your foot!” Dana laughed.
“My fault, my fault,” said King Conor. “I think I'm a few beats behind. Are my hands too sweaty?”
“Not at all,” Dana replied. “Shall we take it from the top?”
“That's enough for today!” I said, wiping my brow with my flowy cream-colored sleeve, which was now tinged a mossy shade of green from my several under-sea and under-swamp excursions. “Tomorrow we'll add the spins. And we definitely need some real music.”
“Do you mind if we practice more after you go?” asked King Conor. “If, of course, Dana is willing.”
“I would be delighted,” she said. They turned back to each other. It was like they'd forgotten I was even in the room.
 
tammy Was swimming—no, it Was sophie billingsley, at least it looked like Sophie but I knew it was really Tammy somehow—anyway, she was swimming underwater and I was with her and we weren't mermaids at all, we were us and we needed to breathe
now
, and we swam and kicked but it seemed like we weren't getting any closer to the surface—
“Wake up,” crooned a male voice.
“Colin,” I mumbled. “I was dreaming.”
“It's Fergus, beloved.”
I breathed in the strong, familiar smell of earth and grass and horses, and I opened my eyes. It was Fergus smiling at me. Then I remembered. After I'd picked the right moment to give King Conor and Dana some privacy, Fergus and I had decided to take Sam out for a graze. I must have fallen asleep in the grass.
“Dreaming of your other world, eh?” Fergus said.
My first impulse was to shrug off the question, but a person of honor hides nothing, after all. “My sister,” I said. “Her name is Tammy.”
Fergus started massaging my tired dancing feet, a task he performed as if it made him the happiest man in the world. “A sister! Is she magic like you?”
“She's interested in magic, that's for sure. Magic kingdoms, especially.” I smiled, thinking of Tammy's Disney addiction, and how she'd sit there singing in front of the TV. “And she says she can see faeries in the garden.”
“Well, ye'd have to be blind not to see faeries in the garden.” Fergus laughed. “They're common as weeds! But I'm glad her eyes are healthy. And this ‘Colin'—your brother, I suppose?”
I wondered if maybe he was fishing for boyfriend dirt, but Fergus was not the type to fish. “No,” I said. “He's a friend. But the two of you could be brothers, you're very alike.”
“Poor fellow!” Fergus said. “If he's very like me, he must be in love with you. And if we met, we'd have no end of fighting! Better if we didn't.”
Of course they would never meet,
I thought. But would I ever see Colin again? Or was Long-ago my world, now? It had been a night and a day since I popped up in the swamp with Erin, the longest time I'd spent here.
“Fergus,” I asked, leaning back in the grassy meadow. “Could you explain something to me?”
He smiled and moved his attention to my calves. “Anything, beloved.”
“Everyone keeps saying I've got faery blood or I'm part goddess.” Sam gave a little nicker from where he was munching nearby.
“Not part,” Sam said, his mouth full. “Half.”
Even a horse knew more about me than I did. “I can't remember anything about it,” I said. “Who are my parents?”
Fergus's fingers were digging into my calf muscles with just the right amount of pressure. “If I tell you, will you let me kiss you?”
“You can kiss me anyway!” I laughed. “But tell me first.”
“You are Morganne,” Fergus said softly. “You're the daughter of a mortal man and faery queen. Your father was lured into the vale of the Immortal Ones by a powerful enchantress.”
“A faery queen? Are you sure?” I thought of my real mother, my Connecticut mother, the coupon-clipping queen of Lucky Lou's.
“Aye. There she seduced him and together they tilled the fields of passion until a child was conceived. Afterward your father awoke in the tender grass with naught but the clothes on his back and sweet, sweet memories.”
Sam gave an appreciative snort, but it might have been more about the tender grass than the miracle of my conception.
“Nine months later he was summoned by a crow that spoke to him in the language of birds,” Fergus went on. “The crow led him back to the faery mound, where a babe in arms was given to him to raise.” He smiled, as if I should know the rest.
A faery mound.
“I think I know the place,” I said. “Was the baby me?”
“ 'Twas you yourself, Morganne. Half human, half divine. And with you came a prophecy.”
Duh. Did anything come without a prophecy in these parts?
“What was it?” I was almost afraid to know.
“That though Morganne would not live among us, she was one of us, to love and to long for but never possess.” He smiled a sad smile. “And whenever the people of King Conor's realm needed a champion to intercede with the Lordly Ones, Morganne would appear and offer her help. But she would never stay past the time of her service.”
“And my father?”
Sam stamped his feet.
“Killed in battle long ago,” said Fergus gently.
I didn't know how to feel about that. “Thank you for telling me,” I said.
Fergus took my hands in his. “May I take my payment?”
Like I would say no. Sam was kind enough to look away, and Fergus laid a smooch on me that promised to leave scorch marks on the earth.
“Morganne,” he whispered. “Are you sure? I know you told me we are forbidden to consummate our love—”
I put my finger to his lips. “You heard the prophecy,” I said. “It's just not a good idea.”
“This See Vee Ess must be a very powerful wizard, then.” He took my face in his hands and ran his fingers through my long, thick, shampoo-commercial hair. “I'd eat you up like a bowl of gruel if I could,” he murmured, before kissing me again.
“What?” My voice was muffled by the kiss.
“I said, I'd eat you up like a bowl . . .”
But I'd heard what he said.
 
poor Colin. When i swam Off With the merrow at the beach, where could he possibly think I'd gone? If I disappeared under the water and never came back, he'd have swum the ocean himself trying to find me.
What a good guy,
I thought.
What a nice, funny, decent, ordinary, great kisser of a guy.
It was sort of tacky to be thinking of Colin while kissing Fergus, but sort of not. They were so alike, after all: both trustworthy warrior-dudes in their respective Irish, hunky, cornflower-blue-eyed ways.
I hope he's okay. I hope he didn't drown trying to rescue me or get fired for losing one of the customers or, oh fek, get arrested for murder. That would really suck.
“Why so sad, my love?” whispered Fergus.
“It's hard to explain,” I said. “Homesick, I guess.”
“I wish I could see your home,” he murmured. “Connecticut, you call it? I wish you could take me there.”
I couldn't help smiling at the thought. “That would be awesome,” I said.
“Totally,” he agreed.
later, after a sweet smooch session With fergus and a pleasant ride back to the dun on Sam's back, I sat in front of the fire, mulling and thinking about all Fergus had told me. It was quiet, and the dancing flames seemed able to light up corners of my brain that had been sitting in the shadows for a long time. Only then did I understand the full meaning of the prophecy about baby me, the semigoddess Morganne.
BOOK: Why I Let My Hair Grow Out
9.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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