Tinsel in a Tangle

by Kimbra Swain

He had taken Kady home the night before while I was still at the hospital. She wasn’t spending the night like she used to when they first met. I hoped for his sake that they weren’t fighting. I would hate to see his heart broken again.

  When I rounded the corner on the aisle with pasta and other dried goods, half-way down the aisle there was a display with various kitchen utensils. An extremely thin man stood in front of it, and he hitched hips to the side awkwardly. He caught me staring at him, so I looked away toward the pastas. As I slowly pushed the cart down the aisle, he moved toward the display as I got closer to him.

  Levi came around the corner with a bag of oranges and stopped dead in his tracks looking at the man. I glanced toward the man, but he shuffled away making a tinkling sound. When I looked at Levi, he approached me quickly dropping the oranges in the cart, then passed me heading for the man.

  Slinging him around by the shoulder, the awkward man dropped several items on the floor and they clattered around his feet.

  “Levi, what are you doing?” I asked walking away from the cart to him.

  Putting his hand in the air to stop me, he said, “Stop, Grace! Stay there.”

  I stopped and looked at the items on the floor. Five shining metal ladles laid on the floor at his feet. Taking a second look at the man, I realized he had something stuck in his pants.

  “Thief! What are you doing?” Levi asked.

  “Um, please don’t hurt me,” the man cried.

  Mable Sanders, the cashier at the Food Mart and my favorite gossip, came around the corner to see what the commotion was. “What’s going on, Levi?” She knew Levi from the times we’d visited Nestor Gwinn, my grandfather, at his newly built Hot Tin Roof Bar. She was dating my grandfather which in itself was weird.

  “He’s stealing spoons!” Levi said.

  “Ladles,” I corrected.

  “What on earth?” Mable said.

  The man stood switching his gaze to each of us. His eyes locked on me, and I knew what was coming.

  “Oh hell,” I muttered.

  He dropped to his knees, “My Queen, forgive me. I was just getting a Christmas present for my wife!”

  “I hate this fucking job,” I muttered. “Levi, go get Dylan.”

  “I’m not leaving you here with him,” he said holding the man by the collar.

  “I’ll go get him, Grace. Where is he?” Mable asked.

  “Drinking coffee with Nestor,” I replied.

  “Okay, I’ll call over there,” she said heading back to the front counter.

  “What’s your name?” I asked the man.

  “Cory,” he replied.

  “You got brothers?” I asked.

  “Yes! I do. I can’t wait for Christmas. We will all be together, and our mother will be in town,” he beamed.

  “Why are you stealing ladles for your wife?” I asked.

  “Well, my Queen, every night when we get in bed, my wife says she wants a spoon. So, I decided to get her a bunch of big ass spoons. These are great, but I can’t afford them,” he said.

  “Not a spoon, you idiot,” Levi exclaimed.

  “Levi!” I scolded him, and he rolled his eyes.

  “Cory, your wife wants to cuddle,” I explained.

  “No ma’am, she said spoon.”

  I rubbed my forehead and felt dizzy for a moment. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when Dylan came running from the front of the store.

  “What the hell?” Dylan said, stopping to look at the ladles on the floor.

  “His wife wanted to spoon,” I explained.

  Dylan’s forehead wrinkled, then he looked at Levi who started laughing. He looked at the ladles, then up at me. I shrugged. “Buy the spoons!” Dylan yelled at him.

  “I’m broke,” he said jerking away from the laughing Levi. He stood and sprinted down the aisle. “I’m coming home with your spoons, baby!”

  “Hey, you! Come back here,” Levi yelled.

  He and Dylan took off after the man who waved two ladles wildly as he ran out the automated front doors. Mable held her hand over her mouth in shock. I grabbed the cart and pulled it back to the ladles he left on the floor. Bending over to pick them up, the dizziness got stronger.

  “Grace, you okay?” Mable asked.

  “Yeah, just didn’t sleep much,” I replied.

  “I’ll get those. You go sit down in the front on the bench until Dylan gets back. You look pale. You were in the med center last night. You shouldn’t be out here,” she said steadying me.

  “Maybe I should sit down,” I said.

  Mable braced me, but my knees weakened. I slid back down the floor holding myself upright with my hands on the floor.

  “Grace, are you okay?” Mable asked. “I’m going to get Dylan.”

  I heard her feet pad away as the floor spun around my hands. Sweat poured down my face, dripping off my cheek to the tile below me. It would feel so good to lay down on the tile. It was cool, and I was tired. I decided to sleep.

  When I woke up, Dylan had cradled me in his arms. We sat on the floor at the Food Mart. Mable stood over her shoulder talking to someone on a cell phone.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Dylan asked as he brushed hair out of my face. The sweat made it cling to my forehead and cheeks.

  “I wanted to sleep,” I muttered.

  “On the floor at the Food Mart?” he asked playfully, but I saw the fear in his eyes.

  “Stop. I’m fine,” I said.

  “No, you aren’t. We are going back to the Med Center,” he said pushing himself off the floor with me in his arms. He was stronger than I thought.

  “You are so strong,” I said smiling at him.

  “Maybe I like you better delirious,” he smirked.

  “Nah! You like it when I torture you,” I said.

  “Yeah, I do. But right now, we need to find out what’s making you sick,” he said.

  “It’s these ladle-stealing idiots,” I said.

  He tilted his head sideways as we walked toward the front door. Levi sat on the front bench in the store holding Cory down by his collar. “What’s wrong?” he asked Dylan

  “Relapse,” Dylan said. “Stay with him. Troy will be here in a minute.”

  “But…” Levi protested.

  “Levi!” Dylan let his frustration out on my bard.

  “Don’t talk to him like that,” I scolded Dylan.

  “Grace! You are sick. Shut your mouth!” Dylan fussed back at me.

  “Put me down,” I said pushing away from him. I dug the heel of my hand into his chest.

  For a moment, I thought he was going to throw me on the floor. Instead, he tightened his grip on me and stared at me. “Grace, please stop,” he pleaded.

  “Well, since you said please,” I replied as the effort to push his chest made my head swim again. I laid my head back on his shoulder and finished my nap.

  December 16th

  Waking up in a darkened room with monitors beeping, I knew I was back in the med center. I didn’t stir, but opened my eyes looking around the room. In the recliner across the room, Nestor Gwinn slept. Just over the end of the bed, I could see Levi sitting on the floor asleep. In a chair next to the bed, Dylan sat sleeping with his head on the edge of my bed. The curtains were drawn, but a vein of light peeked through declaring the sun had risen on a new day.

  Slowly I lifted my hand, brushing it through Dylan’s sandy hair. His blue eyes opened slowly, then he realized I was looking back at him and bolted up to touch my face. He rested his head on my forehead.

  “Grace,” he whispered. It was enough to awaken the other two men. Levi stood up from the floor stretching. Nestor leaned forward in the chair with worried eyes fixed on me.

  “Why do you all look so bad?” I asked.

  “It was a rough night,” Dylan said.

  “I just needed to sleep,” I said. Dylan grimaced shaking his head. He glanced back at Levi and Nestor.

  Nestor rose and said, “Come on, Levi. Let’s go get s
ome coffee and tell the nurses she’s awake.”

  “Um, okay,” he said with his eyes fixed on me.

  The door clicked behind them, and Dylan sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “We almost lost you,” he said.

  “What? No, it's just a cold or the flu,” I said thinking I’d become more human or something.

  “It’s not a sickness, Grace,” he said. “It’s a hex or a curse. Nestor could see it through his sight. We’ve called Jeremiah, but he hasn’t responded. We need to call your father.”

  “No,” I replied. The last thing I needed was my father, Oberon, to see me unable to complete my tasks here in Shady Grove. He would want to drag me back to the Otherworld.

  “I think we should consider these nitwits wreaking havoc in town, ors someone is trying to kill you,” he said. “You went to sleep in my arms at the store, but before I could get you here, you stopped breathing. Dr. Mistborne said that regular resuscitation techniques wouldn’t work on you. She started some sort of fairy medicine with glowing crystals, and you started breathing again. You scared the shit out of me.” As tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, he turned his face away from me.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  He took the back of his hand and wiped the corners of his eyes. He cleared his throat, looking back at me, “Please let me call him.”

  “I’ll call him,” I said reluctantly. “Father, come forth.” It only took a single request before he appeared.

  A cool breeze flowed through the room, and a whirlwind of snow and ice coalesced into a tall man with dark features. He wore a light grey suit with a shimmering blue tie. “Gloriana, what are you doing in a human medical facility?” He asked with concern in his tone.

  Father’s minions had banished me to the human realm, but at some point, they decided to allow me to return to my father’s world. I refused and stayed here. Since then I’d taken on the title Queen of the Exiles. My father approved of my choice, but we remained worlds apart.

  “She’s cursed or hexed or something,” Dylan groaned.

  Father raised his hand and shards of ice formed floating above his hand. Dylan looked alarmed, but I shook my head at him. The ice melted together into a slick reflecting oval. He looked through the double-sided mirror at me. Looking back at him, I could see his fairy features clearly. His ears were elongated to points. A diamond encrusted antler crown rose from his brow. His eyes were like sheets of pure glass with just the hint of blue. He closed his hand, and the ice shattered, but melted instantly. Dylan and I both flinched, but none of the shards reached us before they evaporated.

  “Hexed,” he replied. “Where is Deacon Giles?”

  “Daddy, Deacon owns a farm here. The first menace actually attacked his livestock,” I explained. “Deacon wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “You are wrong. It is his time. It is Yule. His power grows daily. The closer you approach to the solstice the worse your condition will get. You must question him,” he growled as his cold eyes stared at me. Father rarely showed any compassion, even for me.

  “What is he?” Dylan asked my father. However, Daddy had said all he was going to say and faded back into nothingness. Dylan looked at me. “What is he?”

  “Giles means goat,” I said.

  “He’s Satan?” Dylan asked.

  “No, not that terrible. He’s not done anything wrong. Jeremiah made me aware of his presence, and I have since talked to him. He’s just a farmer,” I replied.

  “Grace,” he growled. “What is he?”

  “Krampus,” I replied quietly.

  He stood up grabbing his jacket. “Stay here,” he said.

  “No, Dylan, don’t bother Deacon. Please!” I pleaded.

  “I’m going to kill him for hurting you,” he growled slinging on his jacket.

  “No, you aren’t,” I protested, pulling the blankets off my legs to get up.

  “Grace, stay in that bed!” he yelled at me.

  When I realized that he wouldn’t relent, I used my last weapon, “He’s under my protection as the Queen of the Exiles. I forbid you to touch him.”

  Rushing over toward me in anger, I shrank back from him to the edge of the bed. His eyes burned a blue flame. Reaching for me, I jerked away from him. As I started to fall off the back side of the bed, he wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me back to the bed. His muscles relaxed, but he breathed heavily.

  Levi came in the door. “What’s going on?”

  “Get out, Levi,” Dylan spoke monotone.

  “Grace?” Levi asked me. I nodded my head. “Okay, I’m right outside.”

  “Dylan,” I spoke his name as I traced his eyebrows with my cool fingers.

  “You stopped breathing,” he muttered.

  “I know what that feels like,” I said.

  “And what did you do to the man that caused my death?” he asked.

  “I made sure he paid for it,” I replied knowing he spoke of Lysander, my former lawyer, not the actual man who pulled the trigger. “But, Darlin’, Deacon didn’t do this.”

  “You cannot know that for sure,” he said, crawling up on the bed next to me. I was glad that his anger had subsided. The fire left his eyes, but I knew full well the panic he felt. I remembered the day I watched him die on a sidewalk in front of the county courthouse. Thankfully, Dylan had lied to me all those years about being human. Otherwise, he’d just be dead.

  “Krampus is a horned deity worshiped by many pagans. Yes, the legends say that he stole the bad children and spanked them. Or ate them. But Deacon gains power from those who worship him. Witches for the most part. He didn’t do this to me. He swore fealty to me when I visited him,” I explained as he tightened his grip around my waist and molded his body to mine.

  “Fealty?” he asked as his breath brushed over my hair.

  “Complete loyalty. Breaking that would mean death,” I said.

  “Oh,” he said. “Like an oath.”

  “Yes, his oath to abide by the rules we go by,” I said.

  “What rules?”

  “We don’t have anything official, but there are some givens. One of those is hexing the fairy queen,” I replied smiling.

  “We need a council,” he said.

  “Yes, we do. After Christmas, we can talk the mayor and see if he will let us have an election for the fairy council,” I replied. “Are you okay?”

  “Not really,” he said slipping his warm hand into the split in the back of my hospital gown and resting it on the base of my back. “Just rest.”

  “Promise you will stay,” I said.

  “I promise,” he replied without hesitation.

  When I woke up, Dylan sat across the room in the chair staring at me. “Afternoon,” he muttered.

  “Now what's wrong?” I asked.

  “Another brother,” he said.

  “What now?” I asked.

  He rubbed his forehead signing. “Luther caught him at the diner. He said that he was sneaking in the backdoor stealing leftovers out of the refrigerator. Willie, his name is, explained that he was starving, but he only ate bites here and there. Like a taste test. He’s at the jail with the rest.”

  I closed my eyes leaning back into the pillow. Dylan was beside me in an instant. He startled me, and I stared at him. “I'm still here. You will just have to endure me being alive,” I joked.

  He snarled pushing away from me. I’d played on his affections for too long. He loved me, and all I ever did was push him away. “Dylan, I'm sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

  “Dr. Mistborne says you need to stay in bed. I'm going home to shower. I'll be back soon,” he said, walking to the door.

  “Please don't bother Deacon,” I said suspecting that he intended to confront the horned deity.

  Without turning to me, he said, “You asked me to leave him alone. I stayed here as you requested. Why don't you trust me? I know I lied about a lot of things, Grace. I don't know how to apologize anymor
e.” Pulling the door open, he left the room without looking back.

  As I laid in the dim room, tears flowed down my cheeks. I cursed myself for taking it too far.

  Dr. Tabitha Mistborne entered the room with a smile, but it quickly faded. “How are you feeling?” She quickly scanned the room realizing I was alone.

  “I've been better, but at the moment my body feels fine,” I replied.

  “So, the tears are for the handsome Mr. Riggs who is suspiciously absent?” she asked.

  I shot her a look, but she pulled up a chair not fazed by my glare.

  “Tell me what's going on,” she demanded.

  “I don't think that…” I stuttered.

  “Whatever. Talk to me, Grace. Who are you going to talk to about it? Levi? Nestor? You sure as hell aren't talking to Dylan, so talk to me,” she said. I knew I wasn't going to get her to go away. Actually, her direct manner was rather refreshing compared to everyone tip toeing around me.

  “I need to get over the power trip, and just admit that…” I paused.

  “That…” she prompted.

  “That I love him,” I said.

  She smiled satisfied with my admission. “Was that so hard?”

  “You aren't him,” I said. “Can you reverse this curse or is it going to kill me?”

  “Honestly, I don't know,” she said. “All I am doing is responding to your symptoms.”

  “I need to go talk to Deacon,” I said.

  “You shouldn't leave. Send Dylan,” she suggested.

  “I don't know if he's coming back,” I admitted.

  “Whatever. He is addicted to you. He’s coming back,” she assured me.

  “Are you forcing me to stay?” I asked.

  “No, but you need to stay. Just my advice,” she said.

  I pushed myself up out of the bed, and Dr. Mistborne helped me get dressed.

  As I stepped into the parking lot, I realized Dylan was back. His red Camaro was parked in the front row. Walking towards it, I saw two figures wrapped around each other intimately. The silhouette of the female sat astride the driver. I stepped backwards clasping my hands over my mouth. A small sob escaped my lips. I waited too long. This was my own fault.

  How could he have turned away from me so quickly? Perhaps the bond I thought we had was something only I felt. Perhaps I had carried it all too far. “Dylan,” his name escaped my lips as a whimper.