Irene Radford - Thistle Down

Desperate to control herself and not do just that, Dusty swallowed her fears and made eye contact with him, willingly, deliberately. “I really came out here to apologize for turning my back on you yesterday. My only explanation is that I never realized how dangerous your job is until then. It scared me. I was afraid for you. Afraid I might lose you before…”

“Forget it. You find it hard to trust people. I get that. You find it hard to share yourself with people. Yeah, I get that too. But you don’t realize that trust and friendship is a two-way street. You have to prove that you can be a friend, be trustworthy to those who love you, or that love dies a dirty and disgusting death.”

He turned and forced his way through the crowd, thrusting people aside. They surged and formed a new wall between her and Chase.

Dusty hung her head and trudged back to the museum.

“You will pay for this, you miserable, selfish, conniving lump of testosterone!” Phelma Jo screamed as she struggled against the invisible bonds holding her arms glued to her sides and her legs locked at the knees. She sat crookedly against a pile of burlap and junk in a dark shed.

“Ah, I see you are awake,” Haywood Wheatland remarked, as if she hadn’t just insulted and threatened him.

“Untie me, you bastard.”

“Now, now, my mother would not appreciate that title. Though it does fit since she sneaked off with a true Faery the night before she mated with the king of the valley tribe.”

“Huh?”

“Haven’t you figured out that I am not what I pretend to be?” He looked bewildered and a little hurt. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“You’re a con man. You gave me a fake identity, résumé, and recommendations when I hired you. Of course you aren’t who you pretended to be,” she sneered. “And you will pay for your deceptions. I’ve already filed fraud and embezzlement charges against you for altering the numbers in my bid for the timber in The Ten Acre Wood.”

Hay threw back his head and laughed. “And a warrant will be issued for my arrest. Only I don’t exist. I’m not human. After tomorrow evening I will disappear back into Pixie, marry my betrothed Rosie, and become king of Mabel’s garden. I have plans for the giant sequoia in her backyard. I think it will make an admirable replacement for the Patriarch Oak. Alder will be left powerless, and Thistle will have no home to return to because my true father’s relatives will dispossess them. My sister will be vindicated for their betrayal.”

“Huh?”

“Is that all you can say?”

“I can say a lot. I can and will blister the air blue until you untie me. My mom may have been a worthless alcoholic, always dependent upon and submissive to the newest man in her life, but she taught me how to curse with imagination and enthusiasm.”

“Tut, tut. We don’t want you inadvertently bringing down the forces of darkness. I brought some duct tape to replace my magic bonds. They will begin to wear off soon. And it is quite wearying to maintain them. I’ll need all my strength tomorrow night, right after sunset, so it’s duct tape for you-and your mouth.”

“Huh?” Phelma Jo bent her head as much as possible and looked at herself in the dim light filtering between cracks in the wooden shed. She couldn’t see what force kept her immobile, not even a depression in her light linen tunic and slacks.

“Oh, that’s right. You were one of the children who never had enough imagination to see Pixies for what they are. You only saw dragonflies. Such a shame. If you’d learned to believe early on, you and I could have conquered this town and all of Pixie and Faery years ago.”

“You are insane. There is no such thing as Pixies or Faeries or ghosties and ghoulies.”

The dirt floor beneath her began to vibrate. A persistent rumble built and rattled the shed.

A look of pure terror crossed Hay’s face, turning his clean features into a twisted mask.

“What’s the matter? Why does a train scare you so badly?” She knew where she was now. South of town above the falls in the abandoned lumber mill. The train tracks ran right beside it, with a spur backing into the main yard. Lots of odd little buildings falling in on themselves.

“All the iron.” He shuddered. “Iron burns us, robs us of our magic, makes us sick, twisted, and insane.”

The rumbling faded along with the shaking of the shed walls. Hay relaxed and pulled a fat roll of duct tape out of his inside jacket pocket.

How did he look so cool and calm in the rising heat and humidity? Everyone else went about in as few layers of clothing as possible, sweating profusely. Dark stains around the underarms and along the back had become so normal that few people noticed them anymore. He didn’t even have a gloss of perspiration on his face.

“If you are a Pixie, how’d you become so proficient with computers? I didn’t think imaginary creatures needed electronics.”

“Most Pixies and Faeries don’t. That’s why so many of us die young these days. The electronics. But Pixies must befriend those who need friends. It’s an instinct with us. And I have special powers.”

“No one ever befriended me when I needed one,” she grunted.

“By all accounts, Thistle tried. All you did was trap her in a jar with a wolf spider. Like I said, you never had the imagination to appreciate an offer of friendship.”

Phelma Jo snorted again. She remembered the incident. “It was just a dragonfly. And Dick Carrick spoiled my game. I was pretending the fly was my mother and the spider her abusive boyfriend.”

All the pain of those years came flooding back. Phelma Jo felt as helpless now, subject to the control of a man, as she did then.

“I’m stronger than that child. I will get out of this, just as I got out from under my mother’s curse. Her boyfriend is still in jail on a thirty-year sentence.” Her anger shot new adrenaline through her system. A little bit of mobility came back to her arms and knees.

“Oh, poor PJ.” Hay gave her a false pout.

She struggled and rolled again, loosening the bonds a tad more. In another minute she’d be able to jump up and punch him in the family jewels. That should incapacitate him long enough to get away.

“As I was saying, the boys I befriended were all gamers. They learned early on that hacking into another computer system to steal things was just another game. I showed them how to send themselves inside a computer game. They became addicted to the high of explosions. I strengthened their addiction with mushrooms.” He laughed and began unrolling the tape.

She fought to move her knees. Anything to get away from this madman.

Her left leg jerked up.

He caught her foot and pushed it higher, throwing her balance backward. “Oh, my, I do enjoy a feisty female. Later, dear. We’ll take a nice little flight together later.”

Then he used his free hand to expertly wrap the fibrous tape around and around her ankles.

“Anything you want to say before I close your mouth?”

She spat at him; a big gob of saliva splatted against his right eye.

“Too bad that’s all you can muster for the moment.” He slapped a long length of tape across her mouth and around her head, pulling and tangling her hair in its stickiness.

THISTLE WATCHED DUSTY CAREFULLY after dinner. Her friend sat listlessly in the bay window, playing her music box over and over. It had returned to its normal tune. No Pixie magic or Pixie music left in it. The ballerina spun around and around, winding down slowly until the music ground ponderously through its last notes.