Sand Sharks And Storage Rooms

Pirate stops them right outside of the bouncer’s hearing. “Remember, in Faerie nothing is as it appears to be.”

Tinkletoes looks at the bouncer, a heavily muscled man in jeans, a t-shirt, and steel-toed boots. The bouncer doesn’t wear a name tag. His t-shirt simply reads, “Sandy.” He grins, showing his unusually large teeth. They gleam in the darkness. “Not what it seems. Yeah, sure. Got it.”

The threesome approach their new (coughs) friend who nods at the door next to him. He turns on a light and everyone enters. Sandy follows and closes the door behind him. “So what can I do for you gentlemen this evening.” The bouncer has strange eyes that go with his teeth. They are a silver blue glowing with iridescence, with empty pupils that appear to look through you. He takes a fine, white bone out of his jeans pocket and begins chewing on it as if it were a toothpick. Several moments pass. “Is someone gonna talk or would you like me to guess?”

“No. No. NO!” House says with emphasis. “There has to be a second floor or the design won’t work. My ceilings already have to be raised to accommodate Diomedes. It’s completely practical.”

The rest of the group look at each other. Damon picks up the eraser and begins to remove the second floor from the white board for the third time.

“My Lady, I may assure that I am a mature dragon. I have finished growing.”

“Duuude. She tried.” Ray says as he looks at the rest of the group.

“You said yourself that you don’t know what kind of dragon Furnatche is. Clearly he is not done growing.”

Ray, Diomedes,Peter, Paige, Dylan, and Damon all look at Furnatche who is wandering the bonus room in search of a treat.

“Duuude...she has a point.” Ray admits.

The group continues studying Furnatche. The dragon picks up a scent. He gives his head a quick shake and tendrils emerge from the circumference of the dragon’s nose. The tendrils expand leaving room for a brown nodule to emerge from their ends. As the tendrils swirl back and forth, the nodules open and close like tiny mouths taking in air. Furnatche smells something and it’s much more interesting than his usual cookie. He walks to the back door, begins scratching at it and whining. The knob turns and Writer Lady walks through it carrying both of the kittens. Dobby follows, with Carp and TP bringing up the rear. She stops, looks down at Furnatche, and smiles. “Hi Sweetie.” Writer Lady says as she sets both kittens on the floor and squats down to pet him. Furnatche thumps his tail happily in response.

“It’s about time.” Paige says, as the rest of the group eases past Writer Lady to enter the house. “She spent the entire time redesigning herself. Adding rooms, taking away rooms, whining about substandard windows, and old carpeting. Do you know how hard it is to deal with that?” Paige says as she points to House.

Writer Lady looks at Paige and stands, “Yes. I do. How long were we gone?”

“How long do you think you were gone?” Paige asks as she crosses her arms.

“A few days but it feels like months.”

Ray and Dylan look at each other and Ray grins. “It’s only been a couple of hours.”

“Really? Everyone is famished. I could really use a shower. There’s a lot going on. My sister should be arriving shortly. Let her in the moment she arrives and no one else. We have a bit of a situation.”

“A bit of a situation?” Paige asks.

“Yes...a little bit.”

“How much is a little bit?” The girl presses.

“It’s about five.” Writer Lady says, looking at the clock. “So...let me put it this way, rest up. It could be a very long night. I will share more after I get out of the shower, find a smoothie pitcher and an I.V.”

Writer Lady feels Paige’s glare as she leaves the room.

A closet door opens and Aunt Purdy backs out of it. “There were no cookies in there. What was that dragon thinking?” Aunt Purdy looks at Paige. “I know that face.” She crosses to Paige and hugs her. “I know Sweetie. It’s tough being so smart and mature for your age. You are trusted with grown-up responsibilities but have none of the fun.” Aunt Purdy looks at Peter and winks over the top of Paige’s head.

He nods and smiles, shaking his head. “Girls.” He mutters.

“I think that I have the right to know what’s going on.” Paige says.

Sandy uses the bone to dig into his gumline, he pulls something neon orange out of it, inspects it for a moment, and flicks it on to the floor. The foreign object disappears into the unknown the moment that it makes contact. “Who’s going to tell me what’s going on?”

“We’re looking for something.” Monitor Man offers, hoping that Pirate or Tinkletoes will take over.

“Something.” The bouncer repeats. “Anything specific?”

Pirate looks around the storage room. He searches around stacks of boxes and crates. Every few moments he stops and turns his head as if listening for something. “Excalibur.”

“I’m listening.” Sandy says.

“The Lady With The Long Golden Hair is in need of protection.”

“The Treimhse Ar Adoration?” The bouncer asks.

Pirate nods.

“We heard it’s real bad this year.” Sandy removes a smaller bit from his teeth, this one is green and furry. He flicks it away. “So you thought you’d come in, steal it, use it, and return it before anyone’s the wiser?”

“Something like that.” Tinkletoes says.

Monitor Man nods.

“Borrow.” Pirate says. “No one seems to understand the concept of the word ‘borrow’.”

“See this is Faerie and with all things Faerie come unexpected challenges...shall I say? Excalibur, she’s a fine sword and will likely protect your ladyship. It also is Excalibur. A legendary sword that radiates both magic and power. He who wields Excalibur rules all of the English empire. Access to that kind of power is a bitch to give up once you’ve had it at your disposal.” He looks through Pirate. “Are you the type of man who can give that power back? The type of man that will return it to its rightful home once the crisis is over?”

“I will.” Pirate responds, slowly as if he is beginning to get a clearer picture of the challenges that face him.

“We’ll make sure that he does.” Tinkletoes says.

Sandy looks around the room and studies the three men. “I like you. Excalibur was at The Oasis. She had to be moved.”

“Do you know where she is now?” Monitor Man asks.

“She’s out back.” Sandy says with a nod of his head.

An Actor, A Self-Proclaimed Mercenary and A Pirate Walk Into A Sand Bar

Monitor Man crosses to Writer Lady. He gently takes her by the arm and guides her away from the group.

“He’s right.”

She makes a face.

“I know.” Monitor Man looks into Writer Lady’s eyes and says, “Would you please return home with everyone else and look after things, as a favor, to me?”

Writer Lady glares at Tinkletoes and says, “He’s a pig.”

“He’s acting like one,” Monitor Man looks in Tinkletoes’ direction,“but I think that there’s a reason for it. I’m not sure what it is. I hope there’s a reason for it.” He turns his gaze back to Writer Lady and leans in to whisper, “Will you do it? For me?”

Writer Lady thinks for a moment, her eyes light up, and a smile crosses her lips disappearing nearly as quickly as it appeared. “Okay. Everyone is tired.” She sighs. “I’ll do it for you.” She addresses the entire group, “Okay everyone, let’s find the road. It’s time to go home.”

Smudge Mal and Spots Wash both start wiggling in protest.

“I want to do guy things.” Spots Wash says.

“I want to play with a big ass sword.” Smudge Mal announces.

“Smudge Mal!” Writer Lady exclaims. “You’re supposed to be the good one.”

“Sor—ry.”

“You shouldn’t impose those kinds of expectations on him Mom.” Dobby says. “It can be frustrating.”

“Yeah!” TP giggles, appearing next to Smudge Mal’s bright pink nose. “It’s bad for his self-esteem!” The faerie giggles as he hides his smile.

“Where have you been?”

“Busy.” TP says.

“We’ve been lost in Faerie all this time, knowing nothing about the place, tired, hungry, and all you can say is “busy?”

TP spins around, changing into a zoot suit complete with hat and watch chain. “It’s Faerie lady, if you want something then all you gotta do is ask.” He says in his tough guy accent as he flips a coin.

“I knew that.” Carp announces.

Writer Lady’s glare shifts from TP to Carp. “That would have been a handy little piece of information to have wouldn't it?”

Carp pales slightly and looks away.

The unlikely trio watch as Writer Lady, Carp, Blackbuck the Antelope, three cats, two unicorns, and a faerie find their way back into the rainforest.

Tinkletoes leans over and whispers to Monitor Man, “When we take off for wherever it is we’re going, keep an eye out for Writer Lady. That look she gave you earlier, when she was bein’ all agreeable? I’ve seen it before.”

“She has a few tricks up her sleeves, does she?” Pirate asks.

“She’ll surprise ya.”

“This isn’t so bad.” Tinkletoes says as he enters The Sand Bar.

Pirate’s boots slosh as he follows Tinkletoes in response. The privateer does not look happy.

“I thought you’d be happy.” Tinkletoes says. “You’re a pirate, this is the ocean.”

“He probably would be if you’d let us stop long enough to empty the desert sand from our boots before we entered the water.”

“It’s all the same, it’s sand. It was only few inches of water. Quit yer whining. You’re actin’ like a couple of girls.” Tinkletoes looks around the darkened room. The self-proclaimed mercenary can make out the shapes of the tables and chairs, the silhouettes of the patrons as they moved but nothing more. Monitor Man and Pirate follow stopping on either side of him. All three look around as they search for their contact. They all hear the lining up of glasses on the bar, the clinking of bottles as they are set down at the same time.

“It looks like the bartender is over there.” Tinkletoes says, gesturing with a nod of his head.

A light slowly brightens, illuminating the bartender and the bar as well. A man stands at the bar slowing pouring sand into tall, narrow glasses. He is a tall man, nearly as tall as Tinkletoes and nicely muscled. He has pale skin, small warm brown eyes, and protruding teeth that are offset by a deep glowing green mustache, and closely trimmed goatee. His hair is bright blue. The color of the water the men had just walked through with rainbow colored highlights spread throughout. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says, “Sandman” and a name tag that says, “Paulie.”

“You Paulie?” Tinkletoes calls as they approach the bar.

“Yeah. Who wants to know?” He asks as he slides the glasses that he has just filled down the bar into the unknown. The abrupt end of the sound of glass sliding along the bar’s surface the only indication that there is anyone in the darkness to receive it.

“We do.” Monitor Man says. “We went to The Oasis and there was a sign that said it was closed for maintenance if anyone needed further assistance to come to The Sand Bar and ask for Paulie.”

Paulie wipes off the bar and pulls out a small basket of snack crackers. He starts eating them. “What is it that you need exactly?” He asks between bites.

“We were hoping to gain access to The Oasis for a few minutes.” Monitor Man answers.

“Looking for something?”

Monitor Man looks at Tinkletoes and then answers. “This is Faerie. It’s my first trip. I heard that The Oasis is where Faerie’s magical core resides.” Monitor Man smiles, turning up the charm a notch or two. “I was hoping to see some magic.”

“Magic? This is Faerie. You’re surrounded by magic.”

Monitor Man is not getting very far, Pirate looks around the bar searching for another source of information. His gaze stops by a door in a far corner. He studies the bouncer. The bouncer studies him. They nod at each other. Pirate’s lips turn up in a brief smile. The bouncer grins showing his massive teeth. Pirate turns back and faces the bar, he reaches out and places a hand on Monitor Man’s shoulder giving him a signal to stop talking.

“Of course he is.” Pirate agrees. “Thank you. We’ll be going now. This way gentlemen.” The privateer says as he leads Tinkletoes and Monitor Man into a storage room and a meeting with a sand shark.

When A Self-Proclaimed Mercenary Meets A Pirate

“As I told you earlier, I am always up to no good. I can always be counted on for that. If you would be so kind.”

Writer Lady steps aside to let him pass.

“I don’t know.” Tinkletoes says as he steps into the clearing. “I think that I’d like to hear a bit more.” The self-proclaimed mercenary is standing behind the pirate along with Monitor Man, Carp, Blackbuck Antelope and both unicorns.

“I would love to explain the specifics, but, I am a bit pressed for time.”

Tinkletoes looks at the rest of the group. “That’s okay. We’ll go with you. You can talk as we walk.”

Pirate frowns.

“I can see from your face that you really don’t want us to go with you. You’d rather take Writer Lady off into parts unknown, wouldn’t you?”

Pirate looks at Writer Lady. He smirks a little, “She is full of unexplored possibilities.” His face becomes serious again. “I am well and truly on a most important mission. So if you don’t mind.”

“What’s the rush?”

“The Lady With The Long Golden Hair is in great danger. Time is of the essence.”

“What’s goin’ on?” Tinkletoes asks.

“It is Treimhse Ar Adoration. The Period of Adoration. Unfortunately, along with the human suitors that we are well fortified to deal with, animals of all sorts have arrived along with various mystical creatures.”

“What kind?” Carp asks.

“Giants, ogres, elves...a minotaur.”

“Man, beast,...” Monitor Man says.

“ and one big ass bull.” Tinkletoes finishes the sentence.

“Oh my.” Carp exclaims.

“They are pushing against the defenses, trampling the herb garden, licking the glass.”

“Oh no! Not that!” Tinkletoes says with a grin.

Writer Lady makes a face and a sound of warning to go with it.

“I assure you that this is no laughing matter.” Pirate says.

“So um...has anyone tossed their undies down the chimney?”

“It will take months to get that mess cleared out.”

Tinkletoes starts laughing and is silenced by all of the disapproving faces. When a rainbow colored kitten thinks that you are showing poor taste then you probably are. “What if we bought you some time? If I remember correctly The Lady With The Long Golden Hair lives in the country. What if we moved her? To town? Would the mystical creatures follow her to town? If there were witnesses?”

“Some might be inclined to leave, eventually.”

“Let’s move her to Writer Lady’s house.” Tinkletoes suggests. “There are people that can protect here there until you get back.”

Pirate ponders this suggestion.

“It’s not the worst idea.” Carp admits.

“I want my sister to be protected but I think that y’all are forgetting one tiny detail. Her house is enchanted to protect her.”

It is pirate’s turn to smile. “The enchantments surround her. Wherever The Lady With The Long Golden Hair goes she is protected. If she is in a house or in a car it is included within those spells.” He says.

“What about...”

Pirate holds up a finger to request silence. “With a few words the protection spells can be expanded to include everyone within the dwelling.”

“There ya go. We’re all set.” Tinkletoes grins. He looks at Writer Lady “You take everyone home, look after the house, and your sister. Monitor Man and I will take this here...pirate to steal the fancy ass sword.”

“We’re borrowing it.” Pirate repeats.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” Writer Lady says.

“This is a delicate situation.” Pirate agrees. “It requires subtlety, grace...”

“The ability to blend in?” Monitor Man asks.

“In other words it requires someone who has the ability to be quiet.” Writer Lady points out, raising an eyebrow.

“I was a sniper. You have to be quiet and able to blend in with your surroundings.” Tinkletoes says.

“He told me that he was Special Ops.” Carp announces. “He worked with explosives.”

Tinkletoes begins to argue and closes his mouth. He opens his mouth to make a different point---thinking of something with a little bit more meat to it. “If it requires all the quiet stuff then what’s a pirate doin’ here?”

No one speaks.

“Well?” He asks.

“Have you ever met a pirate sir?” Pirate asks.

“You.”

“Ah...so you don’t know much about them.”

“They like black flags with skulls on ‘em, they talk funny, dress kinda girly.”

Pirate looks at Tinkletoes and continues, pretending he never heard the end of the last comment. “A pirate does attack ships, plunder goods, even raid settlements if there is a particularly valuable treasure being stored there. A pirate also walks through the shadows, distracts those in his path, and silently takes what is to become his without rustling a single leaf. A pirate can do anything that is required of him. I am very good at being quiet.” Pirate takes a step and leans in close. “Savvy?”

“Which is exactly what I do too.” Tinkletoes says without blinking an eye.

Several mouths drop open at once.

Writer Lady steps in between the two men. She faces Tinkletoes. “I think that Pirate made all the necessary points. Don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Tinkletoes looks around Writer Lady to speak to Pirate. “What happens if you need some muscle?”

Writer Lady doesn’t move.

“You go on home.” Tinkletoes says, he looks at Writer Lady and gestures to Carp, Blackbuck, Dobby, the kittens and the unicorns with a nod. “We’ve got guy stuff to do.”

When A Pirate Comes To Faerie

Pirate looks at Writer Lady expectantly.

“You were serious?” She asks.

“When it comes to an exchange of goods I am always serious.”

Writer Lady thinks for a bit. She hands first one kitten to Pirate and then the other. “Here. Hold these.” She says. Writer Lady begins searching her person for something that a pirate might find of value. She mutters as she searches.

He makes a face and gently places them on the ground next to Dobby.

As she searches, he checks on the source of the bright light. He returns to Writer Lady and attempts to move things along.

Pirate leans forward and whispers, “A bit of gold, silver, a gem or two. Anything her ladyship might have on hand.”

Writer Lady checks her wrists, her hands for rings. Her ears. She’s not wearing earrings. Did she tuck a few bills into her bra before leaving home? He may not value paper money, although, he has little reason not to. On the other hand, it doesn’t hurt to check. Writer Lady pulls her top out to get a better look.

“Would you happen to have a flask on hand?” He asks. Before she can answer, Pirate leans in and peers down. “You’ve got enough room for a flask. Possibly more than one.”

Writer Lady looks up and finds herself face to face, nose to nose, nose to face...does it matter...with Pirate. She wants to yell but quietly reminds herself that she knows little about Pirate and how he came to be of service to The Lady With The Long Golden Hair. It is possible that he is from another time. His decorum might be acceptable behavior where he is from, although she can’t imagine how. She responds quietly. “No. Not a flask to be found. Sorry.” She closes her top, as she rests her hand across the notch between her collarbones it touches something. Metal. Her necklace. Of course. “Silver will do, won’t it?” She asks, as she removes the necklace.

“Yes. I believe that I did mention silver.”

“This?” Writer Lady asks. She holds up a silver pendant.

“It all spends the same Luv.” Pirate says with a grin as he accepts the trinket and tucks it away. He returns to peering through the bushes at the source of light.

Curious as to what could be so interesting, Writer Lady leans over his shoulder for a peek.

“Could you reach ‘round front while your back there? I have an itch that I can’t seem to get to.” He says.

Writer Lady stands up and takes a step back.

“You’re not feeling as adventurous as I’d hoped you were.” He says. “My treasure lies in that clearing. If you’ll excuse me.”

Dobby pokes Writer Lady in the back of the thigh with a claw.

“Wait.” She says.

“So you are feeling adventurous.” He says. His grin has returned and eyes are beginning to brighten.

“My kitten.” Writer Lady says. She holds up Smudge Mal.

Pirate looks at the rainbow colored feline. “Yes, you have a kitten. One that was unfortunate enough to sit downwind from a unicorn sneeze. Still...she is cute enough. Have fun.” Pirate says. He turns back towards his treasure.

“Don’t...can you help me?” She asks.

“With nasal excrement from a mystical creature?”

She nods.

Pirate retrieves the silver pendant and gently bites down. “That would take magic. Magic and grooming. Do you have some water from Merlin’s well?”

Writer Lady shakes her head.

“A mermaid’s scale, freely given?”

“No.”

“What about a flea from a minotaur’s back?”

“I don’t have that either.”

“Then I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” Pirate turns around, he pushes apart palm limbs and steps into the clearing. Writer Lady and Dobby follow closely enough to see the light vanish seconds before Pirate reaches it.

“Bugger.” He says. Pirate stares at the empty and much dimmer space. “All’s fair in love and war isn’t it Darling?” He mutters. Pirate reaches up and removes a gold hoop earring with a pea size moonstone dangling from it. Removing the moonstone and replacing the gold hoop, Pirate holds the tiny stone with the tips of three fingers and stares at it. The air surrounding the stone moves, sparkling, changing the stone. It slowly grows into a crystal ball, eventually coming to rest in the palm of his hand. “Where will I be traveling to next?” Pirate asks. Within seconds, an image of an oasis on the outer reaches of a desert appears inside.

Writer Lady approaches, stopping, she stands next to Pirate and peers into the ball. “Is that an oasis?”

“Aye. An oasis located along the farthest reaches of the Desert of Neverending Thirst. The treasure that I am pursuing is quite valuable and I would expect nothing less from The Lady Of The Lake.”

She continues studying the image.

Smudge Mal’s nose presses up against the outside of the ball. “Is that a sword? Cool.”

Writer Lady peers into the ball more closely. “The Lady Of The Lake.” She whispers. She looks at Pirate, then looks at the image again. “That’s Excalibur.” Writer Lady announces.

“Could you say it just a bit louder? I’m not sure that absolutely everyone heard you.”

Spots Wash reaches out and scratches at the crystal ball. “Pretty ball. Can I play with it?” He asks.

“No Spotsy. It’s not that kind of ball.” She answers.

Pirate turns west.

Writer Lady follows.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where the nearest fresh water source is, would you?” He asks. “It appears that I’ll be taking a bit of walk.”

“There’s a stream about two miles to the north. And a river about a half a mile away. There are crocodiles hidden in the grass.” Dobby says.

“Aye. Grass Gators, as beautiful as they are deadly.” He turns to face Dobby, which doesn’t take long, the ginger tabby is behind the pirate and standing next to Writer Lady. “Thank you.” He turns around and takes a step forward...or so he thinks.

Writer Lady blocks his path.

“If you’ll excuse me.” He says.

She refuses to budge.

“This is an endeavor of the utmost importance. I have quite a walk if I want to reach the Desert Of Neverending Thirst before nightfall. It has been lovely seeing you again, but I must go.”

Writer Lady still refuses to move.

“As I told you before Milady, I am unable to help you at this time.”

“What are you doing coming into Faerie and stealing Excalibur?” She asks.

“We are not stealing. We are borrowing. Her Ladyship and I have found ourselves in need of it.”

“My sister?” Writer Lady asks.

“Yes.” Pirate confirms.

“Why? What happened? When?”

“There is bit of a situation with Her Ladyship. Her ‘Treimhse Ar Adoration’ is upon us. We are only borrowing. We have permission.”

“Permission?” She asks. “From who?”

“I do believe that you meant ‘whom’ Luv.”

Writer Lady glares at Pirate.

“I spoke with a resident and he assures me that the unannounced loan will not be a problem. The residents of Faerie cannot see me. Her Ladyship has loaned me a bit of her magic. No one will know that it’s gone including The Lady of the Lake. We really do have it all planned out. So if you’ll just let me get going.”

“You are taking custody of a magical item of tremendous value. I need to know more before I leave you to your...business. Whose idea was this? Tricking the faerie into letting you steal...”

“Na...uh...uh.” Pirate scolds.

“Convincing the faerie to lend you Excalibur.”

“Much better Milady.” He says. “Sometimes it’s not the nature of what you’re doing that’s important, just how palatable you can make it sound to others. It was your sister’s idea.”

Writer Lady looks at Pirate, she is unconvinced.

“There is something wrong with your face Luv. It looks like you’ve just eaten something disgusting.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Pirate reaches into his coat and retrieves a small mirror.

“I don’t believe that steal...”

Pirate raises a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. “This year she has attracted not only humans, but animals and mystical beings as well. I can assure you that procuring Excalibur in a less than completely honest manner was her idea only because of the current situation.”

“Using my sister’s magic to trick the Lady of the Lake into thinking that Excalibur never left Faerie?”

“That was my idea.” He confesses.

Enter The Pirate

Tinkletoes shakes his head.

The faerie pushes against Tinkletoes’ hand.

“Thank you.” Writer Lady says, looking at Monitor Man.

“You’re welcome. I hate that I couldn’t fix it for you.” Monitor Man answers.

Tinkletoes’ mouth drops open. “She’s thanking him? She got tricked into coming to Faerie, had to save him, she had to trek through a rainforest because of him, she’s hungry, and tired. He delivers more bad news and gets a “thank you?” The self-proclaimed mercenary looks at Dobby. The ginger tabby shrugs. “This must be stopped.” He looks at TP, cups each hand around the faerie, and tucks him into his coat pocket. Tinkletoes looks into the darkness and says, “Stay there.” He crosses the road and stops where Monitor Man, Smudge Mal, Spots Wash, and Writer Lady have gathered. “I have a question.” Tinkletoes says. “When does Monitor Man get it?”

“What?”

“When are you going to get angry, scream, and yell? When are you gonna kick his butt?”

“I’m not.” Writer Lady says.

“Your cat is a walking rainbow.” Tinkletoes gestures to Smudge Mal, “With a bright pink smudge on his nose.”

“That’s not Monitor Man’s fault.”

“It’s always the man’s fault with you. Kick his ass.”

Writer Lady sighs. “You make it sound like I do this thing every day. Like there are random wounded men all lined up, sitting along the edge of the road.”

“You don’t hesitate to bust my butt.” Tinkletoes says.

“You do stuff.” She says. “Only because you do stuff.”

Tinkletoes shakes his head, “Monitor Man should get the same treatment.”

Writer Lady raises her voice. “He has to screw up to get that treatment.”

Tinkletoes shakes his head. “You treat him different.”

“I do. He doesn’t exploit my baking to his own ends, he doesn’t shoot up my sheds, or play with my feminine napkins.”

“I paid for those and bought you new ones.”

“You went to the store and got confused by all the girl stuff. The employees found you sitting in the middle of the aisle crying. You had to be escorted from the store.”

“You said you wouldn’t mention that again.” Tinkletoes counters.

“I haven’t until today.”

As the exchange continues humans, kittens, cat, antelope, and mystical creatures all grow more uncomfortable with each passing moment. Monitor Man pales a little more each time that his name is mentioned.

“You treat Monitor Man different because he’s pretty. He’s a pretty boy actor so he gets treated different.”

Writer Lady shakes her head.

“What is it then?” Tinkletoes asks.

Writer Lady keeps shaking her head.

Tinkletoes feels something strange and looks at his coat pocket. TP is moving around making the pocket protrude in odd ways. “It looks like TP wants to weigh in on this one.” With a puff of smoke TP is out of Tinkletoes’ pocket and fluttering around. The faerie’s eyes are bright with mischief, he is grinning from ear to ear.

“Writer Lady doesn’t treat Monitor Man differently because he’s a pretty boy actor. I think that she treats him differently because he’s a good kisser.” The faerie giggles.

Tinkletoes looks at Writer Lady then Monitor Man, then at Writer Lady. “So, when did this happen?”

Writer Lady doesn’t say a word.

“Haven’t you got anything to say for yourself?” Tinkletoes asks.

Still nothing.

“No. She doesn’t.” Carp calls out. The assassin-in-training joins the group making sure to take the long way around the unicorns. “But I do. You snooze you lose.”

Tinkletoes’ face reddens and his jaw clenches. “What did you say?”

“You snooze, you lose.”

“Carp. Don’t you think that’s a little bit harsh?” Writer Lady asks.

“No. I don’t. Tinkletoes, how long have you known Dobby?”

“Four...four and a half years.”

“You’ve been visiting with him for four and a half years. And Writer Lady too.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve had four and a half years to get something started. But you didn’t.”

“I...um...”

“You didn’t.” Carp looks at Tinkletoes with disgust.

“Bwok...bwok...bwok.” TP says, the faerie is wearing rainbow colored chicken feathers and scratching at the ground. “I’m hunting chickens.” He says, the faerie disappears in a rainbow of smoke.

Carp ignores TP and continues,“Monitor Man comes along and he’s so.” Carp looks at Monitor Man. “He’s so...” He’s still looking at Monitor Man. “He’s so….” Carp sighs and looks at Monitor Man with full adoration. “He’s so kind, thoughtful, absolutely yummy. Look at those sweet eyes.” Carp looks at Writer Lady. “The eyes just bring it all together don’t they?” He asks.

Writer Lady nods.

“You haven’t been getting anywhere. Monitor Man came into her life once as a friend. It was nice. Later he returned, it was war, not between them but the timing wasn’t right either. He has returned again...and...she kissed him.

“A kiss that we have not discussed since it happened.” Monitor Man points out.

“That was why the thing happened with your hair and the back of your pants?” Tinkletoes asks, looking at Monitor Man.

Monitor Man nods.

“And you haven’t talked about it?” Tinkletoes asks. “People are calling me ‘chicken.’”

“Presidential campaigns, Monitor Man being kidnapped, tracking down assassin kittens, putting a stop to this craziness, and a rainbow colored kitten. Now there are unicorns. I’ve been a little bit busy here.”

“She does have a point.” Monitor Man agrees.

Tinkletoes nods.

“It’s not nice to leave a guy hanging either.” Tinkletoes says.

“He’s got a point there too.” Monitor Man agrees with Tinkletoes. “I’m a good kisser. It’s nice to hear.”

Writer Lady groans in frustration. “This is ridiculous. It wasn’t my idea. Carp made me do it.”

“I told you that you should jump on the opportunity to kiss him.” Carp says, correcting Writer Lady. “The thing with the hands, the hair, and the butt...that was all you girl.”

Writer Lady makes a new noise. “If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to hurt somebody.” She picks up Smudge Mal and Spots Wash. “Come on Kitties, we’ll sort this out on our own.”

Both unicorns follow Writer Lady further into the rainforest.

“Was that a growl?” Tinkletoes asks.

TP giggles.

“Mom?” Dobby calls. The ginger tabby follows an irritated Writer Lady, you know, just in case.

Spots Wash wiggles in Writer Lady’s hand. “Stop wiggling Kitty or I could drop you.” She says without looking at him. “Too close Mom. Unicorn boogers.” Writer Lady stops and looks down at the kitten who is dangling close to his multi-colored brother. “You just called me ‘Mom.’” Writer Lady says, her eyes tearing up for a moment.

“Yeah. What does it mean?” Spots Wash asks.

Writer Lady laughs. “It means you don’t have to be corralled right next to your brother.” She takes Smudge Mal in her other hand and continues walking. “Although it is nice to able to hold both of you in one hand.”

“It’s kind of cramped.” Spots Wash says.

“Don’t forget Mom, I liked you first.” Smudge Mal says.

Writer Lady says, “Don’t you worry Kitty. I haven’t.” She answers, smiling. She sees a clearing. Not exactly a clearing. The darkened rainforest is becoming unusually bright. She follows the light. Writer Lady sees something to her right. Something twinkles. A shadow comes into the open ahead of her. Something twinkles again. “I know that shape.” She mutters.

Dobby uses the opportunity to catch up.

“What is it?” Smudge Mal asks.

“It’s Pirate.”

“Don't you mean it’s a pirate?” Dobby asks.

“No. It’s Pirate. The Lady With The Long Golden Hair’s protector?”

“From The Ninja Zombie War?”

“We should see what he’s doing.” Dobby suggests. “Maybe he can help.”

“I don’t know.” Writer Lady says walking in the same direction Pirate went.

“He helped before.” Dobby points out, following her.

“A pirate in Faeire? He may be up to no good.” She says as she continues to approach the pirate crouched in front of her. He is peering at the source of the bright light.

The pirate turns around, “I’m always up to no good Luv. What did you bring me?”

Unicorns and Rainbows

Carp and Black Buck Antelope look up. Monitor Man and the two kittens sit quietly on two separate branches of a large tree.

“Who’s we?” Carp asks.

“Writer Lady, Tinkletoes, both these kittens, and me.” Monitor Man says. “Everyone is ready to go.”

Carp hears a snort and a sound that reminds him of a hoof pawing the ground.

“What was that?” Monitor Man asks.

“You could hear that? From up there?” Carp asks.

“Yeah. There’s some kind of weird echo.”

There is the sound of more pawing and Carp hears a snort and feels a rush of air against the back of his neck. Both unicorns appear simultaneously. One is standing behind Carp’s left shoulder and the other his right.  He slowly moves out of stabbing distance

“Unicorns!” Smudge Mal calls.

“Cool!” Spots Wash exclaims.

Monitor Man whistles for a bubble. One swoops across the meadow and into the entrance of the rainforest. It stops next to Monitor Man’s branch. He steps on to the top of the bubble and sits down with his legs crossed in front of him. He says, “Down to the next branch please.” The bubble lowers itself to the branch the kittens are sitting on. Both kittens climb on to Monitor Man’s lap. Smudge Mal yawns and begins kneading a thigh. “Down to the road please.” The actor instructs. He looks at Smudge Mal. “Don’t get too comfortable. We aren’t going far.”

The kitten yawns again. “Okay.” He stops kneading.

The bubble lowers itself to the ground, setting down well away from the unicorns and their horns. Both kittens immediately jump from the bubble and run over to the magical creatures. One sniffing at a hoof while the other one chases a tail.

“Careful!” Carp calls. “The silver one is...” He says just as the silver unicorn lowers his head to sniff at Smudge Mal. The creature blows at the kitten with curiosity.

Smudge Mal takes a step back. “Could you watch it with the boogers?” the kitten asks as he scratches at his head. The top of Smudge Mal’s head glows with bits of unicorn stuff. “Spots?” Smudge Mal calls.

“Yeah?” Spots Wash responds between reaches. He misses by a hair (sorry...not sorry), then catches a bit of the white unicorn’s tail only to have it slide through his claws seconds later. The unicorn patiently swats at the kitten’s head as she would a fly.

“A little help here.” Smudge Mal calls.

Spots Wash abandons his game and runs to his older brother. “You have unicorn boogies all over your head.”

Smudge Mal glares at Spots Wash. “Clean me up.”

“No way man.” Spots Wash says. “You’re on your own with this one.”

Smudge Mal scratches at his head a couple of more times. Abandoning the scratching, the kitten moves to a tree and attempts to rub it off. The colorful glowing spreads, permeating his fur completely.

“That’s not helping.” Monitor Man points out.

Smudge Mal, Badass Browncoat Kitty, is now a walking rainbow. His unique brown smudge glows a bright, vibrating pink.

“Is everyone ready to go?” The group hears Writer Lady’s question well before they see her. As she, Tinkletoes, Dobby, and TP get closer to the group her smile grows smaller eventually disappearing completely.

“Smudgie?” She asks, staring at Smudge Mal.

Both unicorns turn to face her. She stops walking and holds an arm out to each side, stopping Tinkletoes and Dobby from continuing further.

“You were saying...” Tinkletoes prompts.

Writer Lady glares at Tinkletoes and takes the lead.

Tinkletoes looks at Dobby. “Everything is always my fault. It doesn’t matter who really did it. It’s always my fault.”

Writer Lady calms herself as much as she can before she stops to greet the unicorns, she places herself between them. Writer Lady is worried about Smudge Mal. But...unicorns. How often does someone get to meet a unicorn, much less two of them.

“Care...” Carp says as Writer Lady reaches out to one of them. The white unicorn sniffs at her closed hand and nickers her consent to a nose rub. The silver one nudges the back of her arm with his head indicating his need for a nose rub as well. “...ful.”

“Okay, okay...just a second.” She says.

“There’s a softness to her tone.” Monitor Man observes.

“It’s a little bit scary.” Carp says.

“We are in the eye of the hurricane men. Prepare to take cover.” Tinkletoes says as he, Dobby, and TP approach. “When the storm picks back up, it’s going down.”

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man. She stops petting the unicorns and crosses the road to speak with him.

“Monitor Man, do you ever do any stunts?” Tinkletoes calls out.

“Yes.” He answers without taking his eyes off of Writer Lady. “I’ve had a little bit of training.”

“You might want to use some of that trainin’ now.”

Writer Lady is a little bit over a foot away when Tinkletoes calls. “I hope you’re wearing a cup.” The self-proclaimed mercenary waits to see the pretty boy receive his first real blow.

“Hello.” Writer Lady says.

“Hello.” Monitor Man responds.

“Do you know what happened to my kitten?” She asks.

“Yes. He was getting to know the silver unicorn and it sneezed on him.”

“He’s glowing because of unicorn...”

“stuff.” Monitor Man says, finishing Writer Lady’s sentence. “Smudge Mal tried to scratch it off and that didn’t work. He asked Spots to lick it off for him and Spots said, “No.” He tried to remove it by rubbing against a tree trunk and that just spread it even more.”

“That’s why my cat looks like a rainbow?” She asks.

“That’s why your cat looks like a rainbow.” 

"She's not yelling at him, why is she not yelling at him?"  Tinkletoes mutters and stares in disbelief.

TP giggles and begins to leave.

Tinkletoes puts a hand up to stop the faerie. “Where are you going?”

“To find a chicken.” TP says.

“A chicken?”
“TP brings a chicken for the unicorn to sneeze on. The chicken rolls in the dirt, becomes rainbow colored, lays eggs, we cook the eggs, and then..." the faeirie grins stretching out the suspense, " we taste the rainbow.” He says giggling.

Communicating Openly (Well...Sort Of)

“Are you sure about that?” Monitor Man asks. “Doesn’t she work?”

Both kittens look at Monitor Man with blank expressions.

“Does she dress up and go out all day long?”

“She puts on clothes that she doesn’t want us to sit on her lap too much when she’s wearing them.” Smudge Mal says.

“She puts stringy, brown things on her legs then yells at us when we chase them.” Spots Wash shares.

“She makes a serious face when she leaves and the serious face is gone when she comes home.” Smudge Mal says.

“That sounds like going to work.” Monitor Man says. “That’s how humans pay their light bill.”

“How does spending all day away from home pay the light bill?” Spots Wash asks.

“Humans go to a place every day and do something that is previously agreed upon. In return, they get money. Humans use the money to pay the light bill, buy food, cat litter.” Monitor Man explains.

“Toy mice?” Spots Wash asks. “Is that how she gets toy mice?”

“Yes. That’s how she gets toy mice too.”

“Do you work?” Spots Wash asks.

“Yes.”

“What do you do for money?” Smudge Mal asks.

“I’m an actor.” Monitor Man announces with a smile.

The kittens look at Monitor Man and wait for more information.

“I...I...um...” He looks at the kittens. “Have you ever seen Dylan and the kids play ‘Pretend’?”

“Yes.” Smudge Mal answers.

“That’s what I do. I play pretend.” Monitor Man says.

The kittens look and at each other and then back at Monitor Man.

“Is that all?”

“They give you money for that?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than a simple game of ‘Pretend’. There are cameras, you have to wear specific clothes, your hair has to be fixed in a certain way, there’s make-up...” Monitor Man says.“...you have specific things to say, there are facial expressions that you have to use...”

“You wear make-up?” Smudge Mal asks.

“Yes.” Monitor Man answers.

“Make-up is for girls.” Spots Wash announces. “Girls and candy asses.”

Smudge Mal and Monitor Man both look at Spots Wash.

“That’s what Tinkletoes says.”

“That’s not what I said.” Tinkletoes says. “What I said was that I wished I had left the barbed wire up until Pretty Boy had gotten stuck in it.”

“I asked you if catching pretty boys was better than Ninja Zombie slaying.” Dobby says.

“I said that there ain’t nothin’ better than a pretty boy that’s been tied up and gagged. I pointed to Monitor Man and said that it would be like a dream come true to see him out of the way.”

Writer Lady’s face changes slowly. The self-proclaimed mercenary and future U.S. President (or so he thinks) watches helplessly as the anger transfers from the ginger tabby to him.

“Don’t look at me.” Tinkletoes says. “I didn’t do anything.”

Writer Lady glares at Tinkletoes.

“I didn’t do this.”

“Who did?” She asks.

“Those guys.” Tinkletoes says gesturing to Dobby and someplace outside.

“Where did they get the idea? Think about it...really hard. Could it be that all of your talk about pretty boys getting stuck in barb wire fences had something to do with this?”

Tinkletoes’ expression changes from one of concentration to realization to one of horror and finally, denial. “No. It wasn’t me.” He looks at Dobby. “Dobby, did I say, “Take Monitor Man to Faerie and play target practice with him?”

Dobby shakes his head.

“There. I didn’t do anything.” Tinkletoes says. He points to the ginger tabby, looks at Writer Lady, and says, “Get him.”

“The kittens were the ones chasing him.” Dobby argues.

Writer Lady groans with exasperation and hides her head in her hands. After several moments she raises her head and says, “They’re babies,they don’t know any better.”

“Whose fault is that?” TP's voice echoes through the hut. The sound of his giggling follows.

Writer Lady makes another sound of frustration, rises from her seat, and stops at the hut’s one and only window. It is raining. Water drips from tree leaves making intricate trails. Down, over, down, along the back of one of the larger leaves, and down again. It reminds her of a Rube Goldberg machine.

“This has gone on too long.” She says. “It’s time to go home.”

Carp and Black Buck continue walking in companionable silence.

“Unicorns.” Carp says. “According to my research, unicorns help others through obstacles that are greater than their fears.” He looks at Black Buck. “Have you been a visitor to Faerie for very long?”

The antelope smiles, “I have been traveling back and forth most of my life. I wandered through an entry by accident when I was a calf.”

“How many unicorns have you encountered?”

“A dozen or so. But I have never seen them help any living creature through an obstacle greater than their own fear.”

“When have you seen them?” Carp asks.

“Let me see...the unicorns here do appear when someone is sick.” Black Buck looks at Carp. “You don’t appear sick. Have you been bitten by anything since arriving? A Contaminavit Cimex perhaps?”

Carp shrugs.

Black Buck leans in and sniffs at Carp. “No. If you had been bit you would smell of gangrene.”

The two continue walking.

“I do believe that they have also been known to help weary travelers find their way home. Are you ready to go?”

Carp stops walking and looks at his surroundings—the meadows to the left and right, the flying bubbles carrying creatures that the retired romance writer only dreamed of seeing to magical places unknown, the road ahead...the pair continue walking as the sun disappears, obscured by a canopy of leaves. A coyote calls from behind. A lion’s roar can be heard in the distance ahead. “It would be useful to know where the road that leads home is.” Carp admits. “No. I’m not ready to go. Not by a long shot.”

“That’s too bad. We are.” A voice calls from above Carp and Black Buck’s heads.

The Old Indian

For Dad

                        

The legend of Tatanka Takoda began as many legends do with a stranger traveling through a strange land.

William Bradford was driving down a rural road in Lakota country when a tire on his pick-up blew out. He pulled over and got out of the truck to replace the tire with a spare when he spotted the remains of a wolf on the road. He removed a shovel from the bed of his truck. He scraped the young wolf’s remains from the road and apologized to the animal for the selfishness and stupidity of the human that caused it’s demise. Sitting Bull appeared to him as he tossed the animal’s remains into the ditch and said, “Welcome home Tatanka Takoda. Our people have been waiting for you.”

William looked at the newcomer and then looked back at the dead wolf. He set the shovel upright pushing the sharpened point of it into the ground and held it there. “My name is William.” He said. “I have no people.”

“Your presence is strong. Your spirit is Lakota. The people need your help.”

William looked at the stranger standing before him. He looked like the pictures that William had seen of Sitting Bull, the man spoke as he imagined Sitting Bull would. Sitting Bull was dead. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, he thought to himself. “If you are Sitting Bull then you are dead.”

“You are still talking with me.” Sitting Bull pointed out. “I noticed your spirit when you entered the county and have followed you many miles waiting for the opportunity to appear to you. If you stay here other spirits will appear to you. Spirits who have lost their way. Spirits that have grown restless and are looking for loved ones. Many need a bit of company and a moment to see Mother in the way that they remember her again.”

“I don’t talk much.” William said.

“You are kind, patient, and have a presence that these spirits will come to. There is an abandoned farm nearby. It was purchased by the tribe when the previous owners left the area. The fields are cared for but the house and gardens need someone. The spirits will find you easily there. You are a man who cares for others. Let me send you others to care for.”

William looked at something above Sitting Bull’s head then, looked back at him and nodded.

“Meet me in this spot with your things in two days.”

“Two days.” William answered. By the time he had changed his tire, put away the damaged one along with his jack and tools William was alone again. He got into his truck and drove away.

Two days later, William returned in the pouring rain and sat. He waited. He watched the rain, closed his eyes and listened to the rain. He looked at the world around him and imagined what the land would look like when the rains had stopped and the sun returned. He heard an audible thump as a car raced past on the road behind him. He put on his hat, opened the door to the truck, and got out. He made his way for the bed of the pick-up and quietly retrieved his shovel from underneath a tarp. He looked and listened for other cars before he stepped out on to the road. He scooped up the dead possum with his shovel.

At least this one didn’t suffer. William thought to himself as he walked the possum to the ditch, said the words and tossed the remains in.

“May you rest peacefully little one.” Sitting Bull said from behind William’s left shoulder.

William turned and looked at Sitting Bull.

“Welcome my brother. Let me show you to your new home.”

Sitting Bull sat down on the passenger side of the truck and guided William down one side road and up a lane. At the end of the lane was a small house, cleared out farm land with woods skirting each field, two abandoned chicken houses, an old barn, and an empty root cellar. William thought that it was one of the most beautiful sights that he had ever seen.

The house was simple but clean and in good repair. There was running water, electricity, food in the pantry, and a few cooked meals in the refrigerator. A note was set on the dining table with a phone number listed.

“That is Roberta. She is a local historian and friend of the tribe. She will help you settle in.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” William asked.

“I will be here today. I must travel this world in brief visits. I will disappear with the sunrise. I will send many to welcome you. Roberta will help you. Then the work will begin.”

That was how it went. Day after day, people stopped by. Sometimes one or two, other times, several. These people introduced themselves and said, “Welcome” or “Thank you for coming.” Many times, they left food or other small gifts.

Roberta helped William learn who everyone was, who their ancestors were, and showed him places of historical and spiritual significance. William found work, settled into the small home, and was happy. He was also restless. No spirits had visited. William felt uncomfortable accepting so much from so many kind people without giving anything in return. Roberta reassured him that his time would come. His job was to continue getting to know his new home and the people around him. William worked, took care of the house and the out buildings, planted a garden, and tended the yard. He waited. One summer afternoon while he was mowing the roof of the root cellar visitors arrived in a truck. It was loaded with covers, pins, ropes, pegs, poles, and a message, “Sitting Bull sent you this.” He nodded, turned off the mower, and walked over to the pick-up to help unload.

The tipi was set up on top of the root cellar. Sometimes William sat in it and other times, outside it. He would admire it as he worked outside. One afternoon, as he worked in the garden he looked at the tipi and noticed a warrior was sitting next to it. The warrior’s legs were crossed, eyes closed, his lips were moving as if chanting in prayer. The warrior must have felt William looking at him because his lips stopped moving and he opened his eyes.

William put down his tool, stood up, and slowly walked across the yard to greet his first non-living visitor.

“Hau.” He said, squatting to face his visitor.

“Hau Tatanka Takoda.” The warrior greeted him in return. “You made a face when I used your Lakota name. Do you not like it?”

“Names are a tool for identification.”

“There is some other reason I think.” The warrior teased.

“Sitting Bull is ‘Tatanka’. I don’t know what it means.”

“You are uncomfortable being regarded with great respect.”

William gave the warrior a nod.

“Tatanka means buffalo or bison. As you know the buffalo holds great significance to us so it has been used for leaders. Sitting Bull was a great leader. Takoda means friend to everyone. You hold significance for the tribe because you are a friend to everyone, both the living and the dead. Tatanka Takoda.”

William nodded. “Thank you. Now, what can I do to help you?” He asked.

“You thought I was coming to you for help? Sitting Bull sent me. He said that you needed help with something.” The warrior grinned.

William looked at the warrior without saying a word.

“I died suddenly in battle. As you can see I was very young. I had no wife or children. No one here. I miss the sun, watching the breeze blow through the trees. The smell of a fire.” The warrior shared.

“You need company?” William asked.

The warrior nodded.

William looked around the yard. He spotted what was left of a tree. The parts that were too small or damaged to salvage. “Do you see that pile over there?” He asked and gestured to the pile with a nod of his head.

“Yes.”

“I have to burn that on Saturday.”

“I will return on Saturday.” The warrior announced. “Thank you Tatanka Takoda. You have been most helpful.” He disappeared.

William grinned, laughed for a minute, said, “I’ll be damned,” and returned to his garden. Many years have passed since he met that first warrior. As the number of spirits he has helped grew so did his story. The tales that are told go something like this:

If you go out to the edge of Lakota territory and travel down the only side road, at the end of a lane there lies a farm. Tatanka Takoda’s farm. On the night of the Harvest Moon all of the spirits of all that Tatanka Takoda has helped appear. Human and animal alike. They glow with stardust and light the fields as if it were day.

Tatanka Takoda has grown older. He is strong and healthy. He can work longer and harder than men decades younger with little strain, which has helped the legend grow. The number of visitors have increased. Many non-Indians come now too. They wonder at his strength, health, and patience in his advancing years. When they do a breeze whispers, “Some journeys are longer than others. His is an exceptional one.”

Having A Talk

“I know what you’re going to say.” Dobby says.

“No you don’t.”

He paces in front of Writer Lady. “I do.”

“Dobby Kitty, I don’t even know what I want to say about this. How could you?”

“You have a sign running across your forehead. Bright red letters.”

“What?” is displayed on Writer Lady’s forehead just as the word escapes her lips. “Where’s a mirror?” appears.

A Cheval mirror appears in front of her.

“Really?!” is illuminated across her forehead. “OMG.” Writer Lady turns away from the mirror and calls to the hut’s ceiling. “TP...TP! Remove the sign!”

“No. TP’s still playing.”

Writer Lady’s shoulders slump forward. She thinks for a moment, stands taller, and says, “I know that you’re still playing but it’s time to stop for a little while.”

“No. TP’s having fun.”
“Isn’t play time better when everyone is having fun? Things would go a lot better if I didn’t have a sign on my forehead displaying all of my thoughts.”

“People understand you better like this.”

Writer Lady feels her patience slipping. “TP, do you like spending time at my house? If you want to continue visiting, remove this...now.” Writer Lady turns and looks at Dobby. The words “Sour Puss” are displayed on her forehead. Dobby laughs as the words disappear.

“Okay Mom. It’s gone.” Dobby says.

“Thank goodness for that.” Writer Lady finds a chair bigger than monkey size and sits down. “Now...what were you thinking?”

TP appears behind Writer Lady and floats forward into Dobby’s sight remaining just outside Writer Lady’s field of vision. The faerie spins around several times and reappears dressed as a “Mom” complete with apron, pearls, and June Cleaver hairstyle. He mimics her, waving a rolling pin for emphasis as Writer Lady speaks.

“What has Monitor Man ever done to you to make you want to kill him? Nothing. He’s your friend. We don’t go around killing our friends for sport. I didn’t raise you that way.”

Dobby looks from Writer Lady’s impassioned speech to TP’s Mother Cleaver impression and back again trying to look seriously at Writer Lady while enjoying the faerie’s antics.

“I know what you’re doing over there TP.”

The faerie stops and faces Writer Lady crossing his arms in front of him. He turns to face Dobby and holds up a sign that reads: No, She Doesn’t.

“Yes I do. Holding up a sign instead of open mimicry doesn’t make you any more quiet.”

TP mimics hitting something with his rolling pin.

“You two must really hate Monitor Man if you are kidnapping him and letting the kittens hunt him down.”

“No.” Dobby says.

Writer Lady continues her speech without acknowledging that the ginger tabby has spoken. “Monitor Man is our friend. We need to work together to resolve this problem. That’s it.”

Dobby approaches and looks into Writer Lady’s face. “No Mom, that’s not it. TP was bored. I was getting tired of the campaign stuff. It sounded like fun. We were just playing.”

“That doesn’t make sense. If you two were just playing why kidnap Monitor Man and transport him all the way to Faerie?”

Dobby looks at TP who slaps a hand to his forehead,runs it down his face, and crosses his eyes. Dobby smiles and says, “More play time.”

“More play time? That’s your explanation?” Writer Lady asks.

“Mom...you look a little angry.”

“Well let’s see..my home was invaded by pixies and an unplanned political campaign, then I end up not only in a different place but in a different dimension working to save Monitor Man, not to mention track you and the kittens down, and guess what? I still haven’t gotten any sleep.”

“Sleep deprivation is never a good thing young lady.” TP says as he waves an index finger about.

Writer Lady looks at TP, “I’m going to find something to squash you with if you don’t stop doing that.”

“Violence doesn’t work on him. You have to take away his toys.” Tinkletoes says as he enters the hut. The self-proclaimed mercenary is wet from the top down and walks with a limp. A piece of camo fabric hangs from his leg revealing bare skin.

“What happened to you?” Writer Lady asks.

“Crocodile?” He stops walking and thinks for a moment. “Gator...something scaly with really big teeth snuck up on me when I was at the riverbank.”

“This is a rainforest. What were you doing near the water?”

“When we dropped off the monkey and saw him safely to his tree he thanked us by throwing his crap at us. Him and a half dozen of his closest friends. One nailed me right between the eyes. We started on our way back when the panthers stopped for a bite to eat. I saw the water and decided to get cleaned up.

“You turned your back on two panthers?” Writer Lady asks.

“They had fresh kill. They were busy.”

“You let them kill a poor defenseless animal?”

“What was I supposed to do flick them on their noses and say, ‘Bad Kitty’? Anyway, it turns out that in Faerie, gators spend more time on the grass than in the water. Because it’s Faerie the things blend right in too.” He looks at Writer Lady and Dobby. “What is it we’re doin’ here?”

“What are they doing in there?” Monitor Man asks.

Smudge Mal and Spots Wash look at each other for a moment and turn back to Monitor Man.

“Food Provider is telling Dobby that he’s been a bad cat.” Spots Wash says.

“Dobby is arguing his side then waits a few minutes. Either Food Provider apologizes for her mistake or refuses to budge.” Smudge Mal says as he continues to answer. “If Food Provider refuses to budge then Dobby apologizes and blames everything on the faerie.”

“That’s not very nice.” Monitor Man points out.

“Dobby says that there’s tons of stuff that TP does that no one has a clue about. He figures that it all evens out.”

“Hmm...” Monitor Man says as he mulls the information over and gives the kittens a noncommittal nod. The actor looks down at the kittens who are sitting on a lower branch. The bubbles left them in a tree when Writer Lady requested that they be dropped off in a safe place. “Why do you call Writer Lady ‘Food Provider’ instead of calling her ‘Mom’ or ‘Writer Lady’?”

“She’s not our mom.” Smudge Mal says.

“We remember our mom. She is pretty, kind, warm, and has beautiful gray and white fur. She never...yells.”

“What is Food Provider to you?”

“Our kidnapper.” Smudge Mal says.

“She kidnapped us from our mother. She locked us up...inside, feeds us, and waits to dig around in our poop.” Spots Wash announces.

“We’re fairly sure that our poop must have some value that we aren’t aware of.” Smudge Mal says.

“Like the goose that laid the golden egg?” Monitor Man asks.

Both kittens nod.

“Our poop pays the light bill.” Spots Wash says with great seriousness.