.:Athyn leaned on her elbows and looked out from her
window, taking a deep breath of the cold rushing air,
she could scent winter behind it, and upon the wind's
wings, very faint or far, rode the sound of pipes.
Her heart leaped as it ever did at the sound.
...I think Kelts have a nerve, or a cell, or an
instinct, inborn, imbedded somewhere in our
genecode--probably knot-worked!--that allows us to
hear and respond to pipe music, even from three glens
away; it touches something deep, deep within us, that
the outfrenne can never know...Someone playing a
lament of the Oran Mor, upon the great-pipes, clear
across the City; perhaps the piper even plays it for
Fireheart, and will kever know that Blackmantle heard
it played...:
--Blackmantle
--Patricia Keneally Morrison
* * * *
WATCH!: Scotland the Brave, by Dropkick Murphys:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2ctpx0zYgk
Lughnasa had come and gone. Emlyn, having been constrained to remain in the City by too much on her plate at work and elsewhere, had stayed then, and made celebration with the Druids at the Leek's with Connor and Bridget.
It had been a lovely holiday, although much quieter than she had become used to of late, and Em had brought apples from Homer's orchards to offer as First Fruits, however it seemed rather 'off' for Kelts in California climes, the usual First Fruits for harvest at Lughnasa back in the Old Country, were nearly over with here, by August...
But, she had enjoyed herself and renewed her acquaitance with her city sorors and freres. Even young Sophie had made an appearance, and Em had found herself in deep with her wee young friend and Connor and Bridget, as they had made merry, discussing Em's newfound keltic knowledge and lore.
'Ah, Em! Ye have embarked upon a great turas-mara,' Connor told her, ladling up cups of hard cider for all, 'a great voyage of discovery! You'll see,' he winked at her, 'once you open the doors to the Land of the Sidhe, who knows where you may end up...'
'...Or, who ye may find upon your doorstep!' Bridget added, motioning all to be seated upon benches about the garden where they had gathered the party together outdoors; heaped First Fruits as well as a good many fruit tarts, pies and fruit-and-nut breads were spread upon the groaning boards about the sweet blooming rose garden busy with summer bees and butterflies.
Sophie's eyes were wide as the Druid priest and priestess vied to out-do one another in telling of tales, fairies, indeed and changelings, and one-eyed giants, mermaids and selkies and such, each more outlandish or awesome than the other.
'In what books are these tales to be found?' she enquired, a piece of fruitcake in one hand and cider in the other, for Sophie had become quite the bookwyrm, or perhaps even a book-dragon, for her newly discovered appetite for stories knew no bounds.
'Eh, Sophie lass, sure'n much o' this lore was never commited to writing as many of the old tales were simply known only in oral tradition, word of mouth, from one family or storyteller to the next...' Connor had lighted his pipe by now, the party winding down somewhat, and sat back, regarding the setting sun, as minstrels strode about the garden piping and strumming softly to lure forth the moon.
'I'll show you where to find what we have at the library though, Sophie. You know how the card catalog works, yes?' Sophie nodded, and Em had indeed found her friend the next day at her side at work, and after Em had sent her off to the folklore section, she had not been surprised to have come upon Sophie later, upstairs and seated in a out-of-the-way corner in the stacks, piles of books about her, engrossed.
'Well, making quite a study of things, I see!' Em had rounded the corner, surprising her young friend, who had jumped rather, upon seeing Em.
'Oy! Em, you gave me a start!'
Em advanced upon Sophie, at first congratulating herself upon having set her young protege' upon the golden roads to knowledge...then, she noticed the titles of the books wee Sophie had perused so intently:
'"The Monk!"..."Mysteries of Udolfo!"...and, oh, Sophie, not de Sade!'
Oy, indeed, thought Emlyn, realizing she had created A Little Monster...
. . . .
But now was come the Equinox. Already.
Emlyn had desperatley tried to suddenly cram in mandolin practice, which, she was loath to admit, she had not attempted in some while, being busy, busy, busy...
but she had succeeded in just making her fingers sore, and not yet calloused. More practice, Em! You'd not have this problem if only you'd practiced...(yes, and had magic to create more Time to do so!)
But, bag and mando in hand, she had entrained to Pankhurst, where Jack had met her with Trotsky and cart at the station, and they'd gone over their music together the night before; deciding it would work well enough for presentation, '...perhaps quite late when all are well-lubricated,' Em had opined.
Come morning, all were loaded in Casey's big wagon with Casey's big team of greys pulling Jack, Em, Al and Dylan, (who was wiggling out of his skin with excitement), and their baggage, instruments and many sacks and baskets full of tasty comestibles, up and over the winding hills to Harvest Faire Central and Homer and Jethro's Amphitheatre.
Arriving before noon, they still were not the first folk upon the scene, Em saw: already wagons and carts and traps and horses and mules and donkeys were about the yards and pastures while people of all ages and
varieties were setting up booths and displaying wares: jewelry, woven woolens, paintings and statuary, herbs and roots and honey and flowers, as well as produce, and pastries, pasties and breads for sale.
Indeed, it looked as though market-day had come to the ranch in the hills, and after stowing their gear inside the house, it took Emlyn and Jack awhile to locate either Jethro or Homer in the milling throng...
Greeting those here and there whom they did recognize, they found the two at last by the amphitheatre, now festively arrayed about with ivy strands and rose-garlands, which set off the crossed dragon-headed peak of the stage roof quite well indeed.
Following their noses, they found Homer had set his bar-b-que up off from the side of the stage under a large spreading oak with several wooden tables about, as well as a pile of oaken barrels tapped for later libations.
Listening to musicians who were seated around the stage, tuning up and setting forth upon songs only to leave off mid-tune and begin again, Jack and Emlyn
inhaled the tantalizing aroma of roasting meats and
hailed Homer, the Bar-b-Que King, holding court about his humble fifedom.
'Homer, this looks like a medieval country fair set to rival King Arthur's...' Jack greeted Homer, who was turning a pig on a spit. Another spit held a line of chickens and upon another 'que; although Em recognized Woody, roasting a side of beast unknown; exactly what it was, Woody informed her: was "self-seasoned goat", infused with oregano, which the goats had fed upon for months prior to roasting.
'Jack! Em! Welcome in, and merry meet, y'all!' Homer enthused, wiping his sweating forehead with ever-present red bandana.
'Homer, it smells divine, already...such a spread!'
Emlyn found her mouth watering although she'd just had breakfast.
'Yeah, can you believe it?' Homer gazed about, hands in back pockets, 'All donated! Even the birds! All I have to do is cook 'em, and that's just bastin'...keep an eye on the heat...this pig will take some hours yet.'
'It'll be worth it!' Jack's mouth was fairly dripping already, 'Whenever you need a break, let me know, or whatever else we can do, we're here for you, Captain!'
'Aye, aye, matey! I'll just do that, you can be sure. Smooth sailin' so far, me lad!' Homer felt about his pockets for his pipe. 'Woody, keep an eye on the beasts a while, will ya? Be right back...' He escorted Em and Jack over to the stage.
'Jethro should be round about here somewhere, he was with those friends of Em's, you know his Bard Buddies?' Homer packed his pipe, gazing over the festival site.
'Oh, they're here already? I must have missed them! Is Jeanne and Shannon come, I wonder...?' Emlyn leapt upon the stage and looked out over the crowd.
'Hey, Em! Up here!'
Emlyn turned about to see Jethro upon the stage roof waving at them. 'Jethro! It looks fantastic!'
'Thank you, lady!' He mock-bowed from where he sat,
affixing what looked like a tall torch upon the dragon heads. 'This can be lighted up tonight, see?
There are two more on either end,' he pointed to the roof edges, 'as well as torches all about the grounds.'
'It's going to be quite a show, Jethro, for sure and certain!' Jack told him. 'Need any help?'
Jethro hammered in his torch and moved away the ivy from the area, testing it to be sure it was steady. 'Naw, I'm done here, coming down...' and he disappeared around back of the roof, down the ladder and approached his friends.
'It's so exciting, Jethro!' Em gave him a sisterly hug. 'And I guess the Bards are here already?'
'That they are. And won't you be surprised! Just you wait, Em! This is all right up your alley, you'll see...' Jethro looked awfully pleased with himself. Em decided she wouldn't let that scare her.
'Jeanne and Shannon, though, did they come with?' Emlyn had missed her friends from midsummer. It'd been so long since, having received but one brief missive from Jeanne by mail.
'Ye-aah, they're herebouts someplace.' Jethro checked his pocket watch, 'Sorry folks, I have to check on something up at the house...enjoy! I'll be back! And, oh, we'll be ready to start the music here, soon enough, so don't go far!' And off he trotted, or attempted to, getting waylaid by this or that en route, they noticed.
'Jack, I'm going to look for the girls...you'll not wander far? I don't want to lose you in the crowd!'
Emlyn wondered what it would be like by sundown, when the headliners would appear--Rob Williams and his Turlock Troubadors!
Assured that he'd stick close to the stage, (she knew Jack wouldn't wander far from the bar-b-que), Emlyn began strolling about the happy throng, and eyeing the wares for sale, becoming rather distracted from her errand...
'Merry Meet, Emlyn!' Here at last, were the other 2/3rds of the Triad!
'I've been looking for you all over!' The women had a group hug and Shannon, true to form, began bouncing with glee, reminding Em of Dylan, who, she hoped, was still about somewhere and staying out of trouble...mostly.
'We got here fairly early, came with the band o'bards you know,' Shannon told her, as they linked arms and began to cruise together the festival site. 'I love it here, Em! Your friends have quite the place! The stage is fantastic! Jethro told me you helped to build it! You've clever hands, and a willing arm as well!' Em just nodded, as it was ever hard to get in a word with Shannon.
'We have missed you, Cambria!' Jeanne beamed at her.
'I got your reply, so you did receive my letter! Too
bad you couldn't have made our Lughnasa...'
And the friends strolled about, catching up on one another's news, stopping here and there to browse the stalls and wares and produce for sale.
'We have a special surprise for your show!' Shannon grinned wide, 'You will love it! Jethro plans to begin the music with it--'
'Enough, girl, or no more surprise will it be!' Jeanne rolled her eyes. 'Allyn came with his Scottish friends...'
'Now who is giving away the show?' Shannon looked at Jean with eyes wide.
'Fine, fine...it matters not, for I believe we are about to begin...just look!' Jeanne steered them back to the stage area where Em now noticed more people had arrived and were crowding about the front, spreading blankets and claiming some space for themselves and their friends, family, clans and tribes. Many of the musicians had left the side-seats and Em knew they would be entering from behind the stage.
'Emlyn!' Homer called, back to tending his 'Q. 'Over here!'
Em and the ladies wandered his way where they saw he had placed wicker chairs from the porch upon a small hillock close to the stage. 'This is the VIP Seating Area,' he bowed as he gallantly showed them to their seats. 'Ladies...' He set an upended wooden crate before them as a table. And, thanking Homer graciously, they took their chairs as Em made the introductions.
'This is grand, Homer! I can actually see over the heads of folk, and it's certainly close enough, yes?' The Great Oak stood solid behind them, so they blocked no one else's view.
The ladies agreed that it was absolutely brilliant, and Homer further endeared himself to them when he poured new apple wine for all and distributed their mugsfull.
'Such a sweetly smooth taste! This is by far the best apple wine I have ever experienced! You are a master brewer indeed, Sir Homer!' Jeanne bowed to Homer, making him blush even redder, and once Sir Homer had his new moniker, he made sure to remind everyone just what it was...all day long.
'I've an idea, Em: as Jethro has been at Allyn for sea shantys, I know just the one!'
Emlyn, Jeanne and Shannon bent heads together then and worked out Shannon's song suggestion, in 3-part harmony...
'Ladies, methinks that ye olde festivities are aboot to begin!' Homer rubbed his hands together and took a seat between the girls and the 'Q, so he could keep an eye on both.
Jethro had other ideas though, and he dragged Homer out of his seat to help him start things off. They had Woody act as M.C. for the show, but Jethro wanted to be sure everyone knew Sir Homer was King here, at least until Rob Williams showed up...
'Alright, alright, everybody just settle down, now!' Woody stepped right into his role, at home on any stage. 'We're about to start the first part of the show, which will be mostly folks that you all know from around hereabouts!'
(Cheers from the locals).
'Later on, this evening, we will have the headlining band, Rob Williams and his Turlock Troubadors!'
Much hollering, whistling and carrying on resounded throughout the crowd at this, but Woody motioned for quiet.
'But first, just to get us all acquainted...
Come on out here, boys!' And Woody gestured with an arm to stage rear, where Jethro and Homer appeared through an opening in back of the stage, with what appeared to be a banner rolled near the ceiling on either side. In fact, Em now noticed several large banners all rolled up, and wondered what they could be...
More whistles and hollers greeted the two as they waved and smiled at the crowd gathered before them.
'I was just saying to Jethro, "You know, why don't we just build a stage out here in this holler and have some music out here?" And, by gods we did it, didn't we?' Homer beamed. The crowd responded appreciatively with whistles and applause.
'Yep, we threw this lil ole pile up overnight, too, all by ourselves, just the two of us...' Jethro winked.
'You and what Leprechaun Army, Jethro!?' Em cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled, to hoots of laughter from the crowd.
'Ok, ok, we had a lil' help! Casey, Jack, and Emlyn, y'all stand up now where we can see you!' Jethro waved to them, and Em stood, looking for the others, and waved as she saw Casey's unmistakable red head, and his firey blush to match, as well as Jack who waved from stage side, guitar slung about his shoulders. All received sincere applause and shouts of 'You tell him, Em!' and 'Whoo-Hoos!' and 'Where's the Jack, Jack?!'
'Later!' Jack waved to the crowd, grinning, and recognizing most of the habituee's of the Leaping Lizard making themselves comfortable for a day on the greensward.
'It was Mr. Jack Van Horn's idea, all this,' Jethro
said,(smatters of applause), 'So, any complaints: address them to Jack!' he smiled, pleased as always to be causing trouble.
'But it's Homer's baby...oh, sorry, that's:
"Sir Homer"!' Jethro bowed, and Homer pushed the hat off his nephew's head, which Jethro deftly caught, and tossed into the air, ducking neath it just so, for it to land smack back on top, to the crowd's vociferous delight.
'And so, without further a-do, we welcome you all to the first annual -- Harvest Festival Hoedown!'
Cheers and whoops from the crowd, as the men
exited off to the side and gestured to stage rear-- The banners began to unfurl: first, in the center, of course, as promised/threatened: The Jolly Roger, and then on either side of it, the tri-color flag of Ireland, and then, the Red Dragon of Wales on it's background of white and green, and then last--and so first--on the bill...
...as the Scottish blue and white flag of St. Andrew unfurled, Em heard drummers commence a roll, and the unmistakable sounds of bagpipes, (or 'bugpeeps' as Sir Homer referred to them), rang out over all, as one by one, pipes and drums paraded onto the stage through the door beneath le Jolie Rogue...
Round the stage they marched, as the wild, plaintive, stirring sounds of 'Scotland The Brave' rang throughout the valley. All clapped madly and the crowd cheered mightily...a sure crowd-pleaser, and indeed, a real surprise to Em, who had no idea the boys'd cooked up all this keltic glory on the sly...
Once around the stage they sashayed, kilts swinging in time to the beat, lined up across and marked time, then all stepped down the front steps and filed out into the crowd, which, of course, went wild at that, as they paraded through the grounds and on up to the house, hearty cheers following as they went...
'So, how'd ya like that eh, Em?' Jethro came over to stand behind Em, bending to her ear, grinning and well-pleased with his little surprise.
'Jethro, you do beat all,' she smiled at him, and, in a flush of enthusiasm, reached up and gave him a kiss.
'I'd no idea bagpipes had such an effect upon you, Em!' Jethro blushed. 'Jack'll have to add 'em to his repertoire!'
'It's beautiful, Jethro! Thank you!' Jeanne gushed, her eyes bright, and gave Jethro a kiss on one cheek, as Shannon bussed the other.
'Tis the finest opening act you could have!' she agreed.
Jethro was quite overcome, and quite red, but pleased, and he mumbled his thanks, then shuffled himself off back stageside, to check on the bands, he said...
'And that was the HMS W. Nelson Pipe and Drum Corps, let's give 'em a hand!' Woody clapped as he returned onstage. 'They'll be back 'round again later you can bet! And now, continuing with a keltic theme, I'd like to introduce: The Bards of Blackpool, which, as Em and Shannon would tell you, is another name for 'Dublin'! The Bards, folks!' And Woody backed off stageside, as he applauded Allyn's band to the fore...ah, but, once the well-known assembly had taken their places, who was joining them, and ambling stage front, but Homer, and Jethro...with Jack taking the lead!
'One, two,' Jack counted off, nodding at the Bards; as the piper stepped forward and began to pipe a familiar tune, ala Pogues, to which the guitars, mando, fiddle and drum joined in...and, to Em's amazement, Jack stepped forward,(his Dropkick Murphys, Flogging Molly and Pogues badges upon his coat collar), and began to sing:
'Now, Jesse James we understand
Has killed many a man...
He robbed the Union trains.
He stole from the rich,
(much cheering, to which Jack paused,
with a fist-in-air-salute,)
And gave to the poor,
Had a head, and a heart and a brain!'
The crowd, meanwhile, had gone quite wild. Emlyn was
rather flabbergasted herself to find such a reception for 'her' band...but, wait--
Jack strode to the stage front and turned to face her, and sang:
'Now, Jesse had a wife,
Lived a lady all her life...'
Emlyn blushed crimson to her scarlet roots...and once more, found herself in love with 'her' Jack...
The well-known tune soon was joined in by all, as the crowd got into the swing of things and began a sing-along...
...which ended with the piper's lone trill...and then segued into the bodhran's heavy beat; boom, boom! boomboomboom! and the fiddle steps forward to follow the piper's tune; til at last they're joined by the rest of the group--but wait, that was hardly all--! To the tune of: 'Rocky Road to Dublin'--
--The flag of Ireland began to shake and out from behind it, came a young lassie dressed all in green, and red of hair.
She tapped and danced her way to the front of the stage and was soon followed by another older girl, and yet another, taller, as though seeing the youngest girl growing by leaps...
They danced in a line, then step, click, they turned about and retreated to stage rear, while another line of girls, also becoming progressively taller, entered, all wearing of the green dresses and white stockings with such gay grins upon their faces, and indeed showing so much talent that the audience was quite won over by them.
The youngest in the audience, Casey among them, were thus inspired and did grab a partner, swinging them about, and themselves set the company to dancing.
Em then noticed Shannon dancing her way onto the stage and spontaneously weaving about the dancers there and leading them off the stage and into the crowd below.
More cheers and applause as the crowd ate this up like candy apples from Avalon...
Emlyn was enjoying herself immensely, as was Jeanne, she could tell, and obviously Shannon. Oh, she so hoped that this was only the first annual Harvest Festival, and many more lay ahead!
Just think of what we could do here...the amphitheatre was a great success! Emlyn, in fact, did
touch Jeanne's shoulder, assuring her she would return, as she stood and decided to stroll about the grounds, the better to hear the acoustics of such a musical troupe.
It was amazing, how the sound did bounce forth from the natural bowl-shape of the little hollow and the trees behind the stage...
Emlyn was enjoying herself so, she hardly noticed when the sun appeared to dip behind the first tall pine trees.
'...Always after me Looky Charrms...!'
Emlyn leapt aside, seeing the flash of something green scuttle behind a tree. She turned her head sideways, frowning...what was Jethro up to now...?
She approached the tree on tiptoe, when a round head wearing a horrendous plaid cap appeared, with a man attached...wearing a heinous matching plaid suit. Although he seemed surely to be a hallucination, there was something oddly familiar about him...then he disappeared. But, too late: Emlyn had recognized him.
. . . .
'Jack, dear!' Emlyn was nearly forced to fight her way to Jack's side, (and resort to endearments), through the new flock of 'admirers' surrounding him after the show...
'Sorry, ladies, yes, we'll be playing again later, do stay on!' Em grabbed Jack's blue serge sleeve and boldly slipped her arm through his, marching him away from his new entourage, and off behind the stage.
'Jack!' She spun him about, catching his shoulders, 'I saw him!'
'Who? What?' Jack frowned, 'Em, what's going on?'
'Flubber!' She shook Jack, who just stared, uncomprehendingly. Em sighed, 'El Juan Flubber! Mr. Pudge! He's here, Jack, I'm telling you!'
'Wha-at? No, Em...can't be...aren't they with Frank and Alice, or at least in South America still?' Jack had taken Emlyn's hand and walked with her now, eyes sweeping the crowd.
'The last I heard, from Alice, was that he and Morgana had simply left, for parts unknown.' She looked at Jack darkly. 'Oh, Jack...it was surely he!
--With that same awful plaid suit!' She stared about her, fearing said suit at any moment.
'Well,' Jack breathed, slowing, 'if they are here, what can we do? And, perhaps it doesn't mean anything, particularly...sinister.'
All the same, Jack thought, odd that he might show up as soon as the Order is dissolved. With Yeats gone...apparently.
News travels fast in some circles. Mobiustrips. Oroborosi...
'I don't like it. Please, don't go missing, Jack!' Em looked at him, becoming alarmed.
Jack laughed, 'I'm not going anywhere! Em, look! We're surrounded by a crowd! And, it's nearly sunset...' he was heading back to the stageside. 'I wonder if Rob Williams is here yet!?'
Em gave up. Her phantom leprechaun was no match for Rob Williams. Well, if Jack wasn't worried, maybe, just maybe it didn't mean anything too catastrophic.
Odd, how Flubber had reminded her somewhat of Beauregard the Bilious...that suit!
. . . .
As she followed Jack back to the stage, she noticed there was apparently A Brief Intermission ongoing, (according to a sign board stage front reading in cursive: "A Brief Intermission...").
Jack was talking to Aleister stage rear, who, Em now saw was acting as chief stagehand. It was he, Jack had told her, who set up the banners, all upon a rotating device, and had made the torches for the roof and about.
'They stay lit, but not prone to catching fire to anything but themselves, somehow,' he explained. We'll see...
She noticed Aleister now frowning and scanning the area, cigarillo clamped in his jaws. Well, at least two others were on the alert now...
It didn't help ease her anxiety however.
. . . .
'"Tom, Tom the piper's son...stole a pig and away he run, the pig got eat and Tom got beat...!"
Em suddenly was distracted by Homer ringing a triangle,
'Pigpigpigpigpig! Soooo-eeee! Pigpigpig!' he yelled.
'It's time to pork out, folks! Line up heyuh!'
Em was first in line...
She was soon not alone, as Jeanne did join her, and others, as the line snaked about the festival area, and as musicians, (who had fed first, already...and Homer made sure to save the choicest bits out for Rob Williams and the night show acts later), played spontaneous tunes onstage, so waiting was not a hardship; and she noticed Sugar then, hefting a tray full of mugs of cider and moving down the line to keep folks happy whilst they waited.
Em noticed Sugar wearing a cute little sortof Peter Pan outfit in green, a cap with feather in it to match, and she found herself strangely approving of Sugar. True, she wasn't happy that Jack and she had shared...time together. But, she had always liked the girl, and a man was nothing to fight over, Em told herself sensibly.
But, somehow, she looked about over her shoulders, feeling anxious, still.
'Do try the goat, Em!' Jeanne enthused, so Emlyn did, and they added some pasties and cheese and fruit to their meal, and cider as well, Em telling Sugar how cute her outfit was, and making her blush; something one did not see often in that barmaid.
They then took their seats upon VIP Hill as they'd named it, declining Homer's suggestion of 'Nob Hill', as Em didn't wish to be teased so...
'By Isis, I never knew goat could be so sweetly delicious! And tender!' Emlyn closed her eyes in pleasure as she ate the juicy meat in a sweet molasses bar-b-que sauce. 'Where is Shannon? I hope she found somethings to satisfy her vegetarian bent...'
'She did. I sent her off to the Pastie Shack, yon!' Jeanne nodded. 'They have potato and cheese pasties. And there are tamales and tacos with beans and rice, cheeses and fruit aplenty!'
Jeanne tucked in. 'She'll be fine. You need never worry about our Shannon getting her due!' Jeanne had no such qualms, however she did allow she was eating more vegetarian, too.
'But, during the odd celebration, when I know the chops-on-the-hoof, as it were, were fed well, sweet corn and the like, and cared for clean and healthy, and given thanks for the meat, aye, I'll join in and give thanks unto the goddess for her own. Sla'inte!'
'Iechy da!' Em nodded, savoring her tasty picnic dinner, but she realized she had been leaning towards a plant-based diet of late as well... She watched the sun begin to set, whilst watching behind and all about her, too; trying to catch sight of a ferociously ugly suit...
'What is on with you, lass? You look as though you expect Legions of the Fay to come down upon you at any moment! 'Tis not Samhain yet!' Jeanne accused Em.
'It may as well be, for the pucas about,' Em muttered.
'I'm sorry, Jeanne...it's just...' what to tell her about past, old trouble? But, it was no hallucination. Just because Flubber was prone to
disappearing, that was par for his course...
She sighed, '...I thought I saw someone, a man who used to give us all a spot of trouble...' Not wishing to alarm her friend, she added, 'Not in the usual sense, but, I just don't wish for things to go amiss here during festival.'
Jeanne nodded, intuiting that Em didn't wish to talk about it. 'Well, if we can help at all...?'
'Alright.' Em sighed, 'He's a pudgy, pale man in a truly awful green plaid suit and cap. He's abit of a...prankster.' Em finished, taking a swig of cider.
'Sounds like a leprechaun!' Jeanne remarked. 'Sorry,
I will keep my eyes peeled for the imp! And, I'll pass word on...'
'Let me, Jack or Aleister know as soon as you see anything?' Em told her and Jeanne agreed.
'I'm quite stuffed!' Em found she'd eaten too much too fast. 'I think I'll have a wee stroll about...' and Em was off on walkabout once more.
'Don't go far! We're due to light the bonfire soon!'
Jeanne called. Em waved and headed off, eyes a-peel.
. . . .
As the sun began to glow red, Em noticed that Homer and Jethro had now dispatched the Guardians of the Gate, as they were dubbed; the MacKenzie Brothers, who were not such big fans of music as they were of brawling and cider. Their reputations for picking fights, and winning, and their excellent marksmanship preceeded them; indeed, they dinna mind their post at check-point:
--taking tickets and cash, (sometimes chickens, eggs or other barter) as entrance fee for the Show and Dinner and One Free Cider, (which was rather hard to inforce as the cider flowed rather freely despite).
The lads, each big as a redwood tree, sat the gate in their best Tennesee Tuxes and kept cages of chicken-barter, and jugs of jack and cider hard by, double-barrel shotguns within handy reach and wore bandoliers strapped about themselves to enfore their role as Enforcecers.
They also kept a couple of large crates with locks, for any firearms or large knives, even explosives they might find upon festival goers and cheerfully did pat 'em down and relieve them of any such contraband. 'It'll be here safe when you're ready to leave and if you want to be arguin' about it, just look into my eyes, right here!' Jake MacKenzie told them, and pointed the double-barrel their way.
That usually did the trick.
Satisfied the Gate was well-manned, Emlyn began to head back stageside. As she approached, she saw Jethro once more atop the roof, torch in hand, set to light the roof torches. And, amazing...once lighted, it truly looked a proper Viking/Kelt scene out of legend...the Dragon-Heads glowing in the flickering firelight...
In the midst of the pasture, Al and Homer had erected a little bonfire circle. This was well enough away from the stage and dancing area, half way between that and the marketplace booths. The bonfire was primed for the lighting, and she noticed the Keltic Contingent, as she had fallen to calling those who had come with Shannon, Jeanne and Allyn's Merry Band, gathered about, doing Equinox Ceremony.
'Gathering the Light, within this burning brand,' Jeanne was conducting the ritual, a torch in one hand with which she lighted the bonfire, 'we give thanks to the Goddess for the fruits of the harvest, in this Turning of the Great Wheel...and thanks too, for the cooling of the year and for Father Sun and Mother Moon to share equally in the ruling of night and day. Let us wish them a bra and fair goodev'en and may they rejoice and repose in celebration and love with us this night! So mote it be! Blessed Be, to one and all!'
'Blessed Be!' echoed the Kelts, and Em heard some Gaelic and Welsh in that blessing as well.
The fife and drums struck up an impromtu jig, and a fiddle did join in, as the young and young-at-heart joined in a ring-dance about the bonfire. Em was not surprised to see Shannon enter in, but she was when she noticed Aleister therein as well, hand-in-hand with the lovely Diana... Suddenly there appeared, (it seemed), upon that lady's other side, a grinning imp in the much-afeared Suit of Horrors tripping gaily beside her.
Emlyn stood, shocked momentarily speechless, but, as the ring danced behind the fire and circled round again, Flubber was gone...
Em had definitely seen him this time and decided she had seen quite enough.
. . . .
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