Upon the distant hillock the Queen’s court paused in their dance, for the music halted. The musicians turned as one, looking past the dancers into the night. All shivered, for they knew he was again upon the night, taking unto himself that which he desired, and save for the Queen’s protection, all were at his mercy. They were afraid, for to hear the sound of his laughter was to hear madness.
14
Gloria jumped slightly at the sound of the kitchen door slamming. For just an instant she heard another sound in the distance, the sound of laughter. She put aside her discomfort as she heard Gabbie’s and Jack’s voices. Gloria thought she’d see how they were doing, then decided the intimate, low tones of conversation indicated any interruption would be unwelcome. Given Gabbie’s obvious attraction to the young man from North Carolina, Gloria decided to let things lie.
She glanced over to where Phil sat studying some notes for the next day’s work. Then she heard Patrick’s voice shouting from the boys’ room. “Mom! Dad!” She was out of her chair and moving toward the stairs without thought. The boy’s tone had been excited, not alarmed, but Phil followed his wife with an expression of concern on his face, wondering why she was so jumpy.
They entered the boys’ room to find both of them seated upon their toy chest, gazing out the window with rapt expressions on their faces. Sean said, “Wow!” drawing out the exclamation. Patrick echoed his brother.
Out by the barn, a dozen tiny lights hung in the night air, pinpoints of blue-green glow, moving through the murk, blinking on and off. “Neat!” said Patrick.
Phil laughed. “Fireflies, boys. You think this is something? One good rain and there’ll be thousands of them out there. We’ll get a mason jar and catch some.” To his wife he said, “You know, I completely forgot about lightning bugs. It’s the sort of thing you take for granted when you grow up with them. I didn’t think about how the kids would feel seeing them for the first time.”
Gloria smiled. Something was making her jumpy and she felt foolish at her alarm. Still, she was the mother. “Okay, back to bed.”
“Aw, Mom,” both boys said as one.
“Can’t we watch a little longer?” asked Sean, his voice pleading.
“Well, for a while. But I’m coming back in ten minutes, and if you’re not in bed, I’ll.…”
Both boys grinned. This was not a real threat. “We’ll go right to bed,” assured Patrick. Everyone knew the boys would be under the covers only as soon as they heard their mother’s footfalls upon the stairs.
“Okay, then. Ten minutes.”
Phil put his arm around his wife’s waist. “Next year you’ll hear the peepers.”
“What’s peepers?” asked Sean.
“Spring peepers,” answered their father. “Little frogs, about the size of a pencil eraser; they make the loudest sound. It’s fun.”
“Neat,” said Patrick.
“Good night, boys,” said Phil, and the adults left.
Patrick and Sean were as good as their word and went straight to bed a moment before Gloria entered the room. After she had tucked them in and returned downstairs, Patrick fell quickly asleep. But Sean felt a strange restlessness and, after ten minutes of trying hard, gave up and crept back toward the window.
He settled comfortably atop the toy chest and watched as the tiny blue-green lights wove their dance. He was fascinated by the sight. In California’s desert climate, fireflies were unknown, and this was as good as anything he’d seen at Disneyland. Then several of the lights moved toward the house and Sean craned his neck to watch them as they vanished below the eaves beneath his gabled window.
He could see a hint of illumination and knew the fireflies were just below where he could see them. Putting his face as close to the screen as he could, he could barely make out their presence.
Then suddenly one came shooting up next to the screen, causing Sean to jump back a little. His eyes opened wide as he saw that before him was nothing that could be called an insect.
Hanging in the night air was a tiny creature of light. A tiny woman, nude and perfectly formed, no bigger than Sean’s thumb, hovered like a hummingbird on faintly seen, glowing wings. Eyes that were enormous for her small face regarded Sean with merry amusement for a moment, then the creature sped off.
Sean sat stunned. He glanced to where Patrick lay sleeping, and turned to face the door to the hall, left open a crack so his parents could check up on the twins without making a sound. He was uncertain what to do.
After a long moment of sitting with his heart pounding, Sean returned to bed. Sleep was a long time in coming.
PART 2
JULY
1
The band struck up “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” and while there seemed scant agreement among the brass and woodwinds as to the key, the crowd applauded. The Pittsville High School Cougars Marching Band led the procession down Central Avenue, past the offices of the Pittsville Herald, where it would turn onto State Street and make its way toward the municipal park. The annual Pittsville Fourth of July parade was under way.
The boys sat on the curb, below the press of adults, granted a clear view by virtue of their diminutive size. Each held a tiny American flag in his right hand and waved it vigorously. While the televised Rose Parade might hold little interest for them, this celebration of high school band, homemade floats, and local celebrities in cars from the nearby Buick agency fascinated them. There was a raw exuberance, a joyous, genuine feeling of festival, neither had experienced before.
Patrick elbowed his brother. Nearly any excuse was good enough for a sibling brawl and Sean made ready for a scuffle. But he halted when Patrick said, “There’s Gabbie!”
Phil and Gloria stood behind their sons and waved as Gabbie and Jack rode into view. A group of local horse breeders and fanciers had organized a mounted company, all decked out in Revolutionary period costumes. Jack sat on John Adams, dressed in a woodsman’s outfit, complete with a coonskin hat and a flintlock rifle from someone’s attic. Gabbie wore a fine gown, which probably should have been in a museum, rescued from someone’s family trunk for the occasion. It was of rich silk brocade, tight at the waist and low-cut, showing her figure to good advantage and displaying an ample portion of bosom.
Her appearance was greeted by several loud whistles from the older boys in the crowd. She blushed and Jack looked irritated. Spying her father and stepmother and the boys, she waved. As she passed, she mouthed the word “sidesaddle” and rolled her eyes heavenward, as if in despair. Gloria laughed and nodded, indicating she understood Gabbie’s discomfort.
As the riders passed, Gloria said, “Isn’t she lovely?”
Phil nodded, his expression revealing his deep love for and pride in his daughter. Gloria smiled to herself as she said, “Jack certainly looked handsome, too.”
Phil shrugged as a group of children from the William Pitt Middle School came by, marching with a determination worthy of a military honor guard. “I guess,” he said absently. Gloria laughed. “What?” he asked.
“Just your overprotective fatherly instincts coming out again, that’s all.”
“Me?”
Gloria watched as Jack and Gabbie turned down State Street, out of sight. “I may be wrong, but it looks like things might be getting a bit serious between those two.”
Phil looked incredulous. “What? They’re just kids.”
“Not according to the state of New York, lover. Both can vote and do most of the other things restricted to supposedly responsible adults.”
“Well, they’re pretty young, any way you look at it.” Gloria laughed again, and her husband looked irritated. “I’m being funny, huh?” Gloria only nodded as she sought to stem her amusement. Finally Phil smiled at her. “You think it’s getting serious?”
From below, Sean said, “Well, they sure kiss a lot.”
Both parents looked down and Gloria said, “Have you been spying on your sister?”
Patrick sounded impatient as he looked up a
t his mother. “Cripes, they say good night under our window.” He puckered up and pantomimed kissing Sean, who laughed and pushed him away. “Kissy, kissy.”
“Hey!” commanded Phil, trying to sound stern. “Lay off Gabbie.” But he saw his wife’s amusement, a reflection of his own.
At last Gloria said, “Cut her some slack, guys. It’s not too many years down the road before you’ll be doing plenty of the same thing. And if God’s got a sense of humor, your girlfriends will have little brothers.”
Both boys made faces, as the suggestion was worthy of a place alongside eating liver and visits to the dentist. “Ugh!” was Sean’s comment, while Patrick shook his head.
The parade continued, and when the last of the homemade floats was past, Phil said, “Let’s get over to the park.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got an hour before all the ceremonies are over, so we can set up the picnic and have the fire going when Gabbie and Jack find us. Then we can take it easy until the fireworks.”
A boy appeared as if by magic next to the Hastings family. He looked down at the twins, who returned his appraising look. “You guys play?” he said, pounding his small fist into a beat-up outfielder’s mitt. Both boys, as one, raised mitts from where they had lain on the curb. “There’s a game at the park. You want to play?”
The boys sprang up, their movement the only agreement necessary. They darted ahead of their parents, only slightly restrained by Gloria’s shout to stay close.
2
Gabbie came toward the family picnic site, holding her skirts defiantly above her ankles as she led My Dandelion. Gloria caught sight of her advancing stepdaughter and said, “Oh shit, they’ve had a fight.”
Phil looked up from the charcoal he was poking and nodded. “Yup. She looks just like her mother did when she was going to rip off my head about something. Batten down the hatches.”
Gabbie managed somehow to land atop the large blanket with a swirl of silks and linen petticoats about her while still maintaining her angry aspect. “Hello, Gabbie,” Gloria said softly.
“Hi, honey,” added her father while he arranged coals.
Her answer was something close to a grunt. She looked around and noticed the twins were off playing a ragged game of sandlot baseball with the town kids and everyone else was busy fixing dinners. After several minutes of silence, Gabbie asked, “All right, why don’t you say something?”
Gloria took the long barbecue fork from Phil’s hand and indicated with a tilt of her head he should go talk to his daughter. Phil hunkered down beside Gabbie and said, “Okay, what’s the problem?”
“Oh! A cheerleader. A freckle-faced high school airhead with big tits.”
“Jack?” asked Phil, suddenly wishing he’d restricted himself to sons.
“Yes,” she snapped. “We were resting the horses before taking them back and this little bitch comes over to talk to him about ‘something personal’”—she mimicked a breathy voice—“and he tells me to go on ahead, he’ll only be a few minutes. Well, if his taste runs to children, that’s fine with me.”
Phil glanced at Gloria, his expression begging help. Gloria dropped the pretense of tending the fire and came to her stepdaughter’s side. “Maybe you’re being a little tough on him, Gabbie.”
Gabbie’s eyes flashed and she stood up. “I’ve got to get My Dandelion back to Mr. Laudermilch’s stable.”
Phil said, “If you’re hacking her over to Laudermilch’s, how will you get back here?”
Her anger barely contained, she said, “There’s a ride for us.”
Gloria shook her head as Gabbie hiked her skirts and, in most unladylike fashion, mounted the horse. She kept her skirts pulled up around her waist, revealing her cutoff blue jeans and bare legs, one of which she hooked between the two saddle horns. “God damn, I hate riding sidesaddle!” She reined the mare around and used her riding crop to get her trotting off.
Gloria turned to Phil. “Yes, I’d say things are getting serious.”
“At least on one side,” he agreed as he rose. “I sort of understood when she got so crazy after her breakup with Danny last year.… They’d been going together awhile. But she’s known Jack a month. I’ve never seen her like this with a boy before.”
Gloria said, “That’s because she’s fallen in love with a man, boyo. A young one, but a man. The first one’s always the toughest.”
Phil said nothing, glancing to where his sons played. “Maybe it’ll get better,” he said.
Gloria laughed and kissed his cheek. “We can only hope.”
A short time later, Jack came up leading John Adams. “Hi,” he said cheerily. Phil and Gloria exchanged glances as Jack looked around. “Where’s Gabbie?”
“She said she had to get the horse back to the stable,” answered Gloria.
Jack said, “That’s right. But I didn’t pass her.”
Gloria said, “She rode off that way.”
“Oh, damn,” said Jack, then he quickly added, “Sorry.”
Phil said, “There a problem between you two?”
“Not that I know of. It’s just that way you hook along Williams Avenue. She’s taking the shortcut through the woods behind your place. She’s only ridden those trails a couple of times and could get herself lost. I’d better get after her.”
Gloria considered staying silent, but said, “Gabbie seemed pretty upset about something.”
Jack mounted. “She was?”
“Something about a cheerleader.”
Jack’s expression turned incredulous. “She said that?”
“In pretty certain terms,” said Phil.
Jack shook his head in wonder. “That’s Sheila Riley. She’s decided to apply to Cornell and wants Aggie to write a letter of recommendation. She asked me to ask Aggie. She just a little shy about Aggie, is all. Besides, she’s dating a guy down at Penn.” Jack looked hard at Gloria. “Gabbie really got ticked?”
“Royally pissed,” observed Gloria.
“Phil, no disrespect intended, but have you noticed your daughter can get a little headstrong and opinionated from time to time? Not to mention fly off the handle?”
“So I have noticed, Jack, so I have noticed.”
Jack glanced at the sky. “I better go after her. There’s only an hour or so’s light left. If she’s not through those woods quickly, it could be a pain finding her.”
Without further word, he put heels to John Adams, heading toward Williams Avenue. Phil began to laugh, and Gloria said, “What?”
“Just I think I like that guy.”
Gloria said, “Me too.”
“Hey, look there.” Phil pointed.
Glancing over to where the boys were still playing, Gloria said, “What?”
Phil chuckled. “Just that Patrick made a hell of a throw to second to get the runner. Kid’s got quite an arm.”
Gloria smiled at Phil’s proud-father act. “Well, let us commence with the victuals, sir. It’s the bottom of the ninth and Mighty Casey’s at bat and, win or lose, we’re about to have some hungry boys descend upon us.”
Phil laughed and put some hot dogs on the fire.
3
Gabbie rode past the shack. Above the door a neatly painted sign proclaimed Doyle’s Appliance Repair. She urged My Dandelion up over the dirt curb and past the shack. She knew that a few feet into the woods she would be on the corner of Aggie Grant’s property. She had never entered this way, but had ridden nearby with Jack a few times. She roughly knew where the path that ran to her own farm was, and from there how to get to the Laudermilch farm. Besides, she didn’t want to chance meeting Jack by riding through town, and hacking My Dandelion back to Laudermilch’s place was giving her time to think.
Gabbie’s anger was fading, being rapidly replaced by a sense of loss. She’d never been this jealous in her life and the strange hollow pain in her stomach was something alien to her. Her only other serious relationship had ended badly, but even then she had felt outrage at being lied to rather than this terr
ible emptiness. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes seemed to tear without reason. She felt miserable. How could he? she asked herself. Easy, she answered. The little redheaded bitch was a knockout, big breasts without being chunky and legs that took a week to get to the ground. Tears gathered in Gabbie’s eyes and she descended into a thoroughly black despair.
Abruptly Gabbie became aware of an odd plopping sound and knew that one of My Dandelion’s shoes had worked loose. Before she could rein in, the horse faltered and her walking rhythm shifted. She was limping.
Gabbie was instantly off the horse, inspecting the left front hoof. A bent horseshoe dangled by one nail. Gabbie swore as she pulled it free from the hoof. Holding it up, she saw that the clench on two of the nails had pulled through the hoof, working the shoe loose. My Dandelion had then stepped on the back of the flopping shoe with her left rear hoof, ripping it away. Ignoring the smear of mud My Dandelion’s leg had left on the brocade of the dress, Gabbie inspected the hoof. There was one big crack where one of the nails had twisted away, and several small holes where the nails had pulled through. Gabbie swore again and considered the likelihood of a bruise. If the crack didn’t go too deep, it could be cross-filed or held together with a metal staple. Otherwise it would continue to split up to the coronet. “Ah, damn!” shouted Gabbie in frustration. “This is one shitty day, world. Thank you very much.”
She held the shoe in her right hand and grabbed the reins with her left. She’d have to lead the animal, for to ride her on this rocky path was to risk further damage to the hoof. She looked back and was relieved to see the horse was not favoring her left front leg. At least there was no sign of damage at this point. Still, the path was hard, rocky dirt, and she’d have to be careful where she led the horse. She considered returning to the park, but taking the horse over concrete would be as bad as or worse than over the dirt.
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