Kilts and Catnip

by Zoe Tasia

  Fingal rubbed his chin. “I don’t know, Davina. They aren’t family or even islanders.”

  “They did not see merely the briefest of glimpses. She showed herself to them. Besides, look closely—they have the Sight. They would fit in on the island.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant by that comment.

  Her brother stared first into my eyes then Tate’s, nodded then cleared his throat. “You remember the legend Davina told you in the museum?”

  “Yes, a goblin lives in the cave and likes presents but doesn’t like people coming over uninvited,” Tate answered around a mouthful of biscuit.

  “Tate, swallow what’s in your mouth, then speak,” I gently admonished.

  Fingal continued. “Pretty much. It isn’t just a story, it is true. However, there is more to the story than just that.”

  “The creature, we saw? Was she the goblin?” I asked, wanting to get to the crux of the matter before the bus arrived. I had no intentions of missing it and needing to wait for the next one.

  “Yes. Her name is...well, it’s difficult to pronounce even for me. We call her Blanca.”

  “Does she like living in the cave?” Tate asked.

  “Tate, honey? Why don’t we just listen for a bit? I bet if we’re patient, all our questions will be answered.” I hoped anyway.

  “Blanca used to live somewhere else, but she did something that caused her to be expelled from her home to this cave system.” Tate opened her mouth but closed it at a look from me. Fingal sighed. “I’m...well, Davina and I are related to Blanca. She’s our grandmother.”

  “She certainly has aged well.”

  “Goblins have longer life spans than humans. Blanca took a human lover and married him. This is anathema to the goblin people. They cast her out and shunned her. In the beginning, she lived in the cottage above. At first, it was enough for her to be with her beloved husband, but she missed the caves and spent more and more time there. Then, one day, she didn’t return. Our grandfather raised the children she left behind. We are told that our grandfather went to the caves and camped for days at a time, but he couldn’t stay there any more than she could remain above. He brought their children to visit her. She was never very motherly, but she was kind when she saw them and told stories about her home. After her husband died, the children, now adults, found her and told her. Mad with grief, she cried out and ran deep, deep down into the tunnels. For years, there was no sign of her. Her children eventually believed her dead and thought she would never be seen again.

  “Davina and I often see something when we enter the caves, the shape of a woman in the dimness. My da thinks that Blanca stopped showing herself to him and his siblings because they reminded her too much of the husband she gave up everything for and lost. It’s customary to always leave things for her. To let her know she is remembered.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “My grandparents married in the eighteenth century,” Fingal answered.

  If anyone had told me this before I had been to the island, I would have laughed in their faces and accused them of having me on, but after all I had seen and heard here, I was inclined to believe.

  He nodded at me then Tate. “Then you came, and you saw her. Not just a glimpse, but you clearly saw her. This is unusual for several reasons, but the most important one is that the only ones who have ever seen her were relatives. Others on the island rarely saw her. They thought it was odd, but our grandfather told them she had a disabling skin condition and couldn’t abide light. Considering how light-skinned our family is, the islanders believed it.

  “My grandmother would, in the earlier days, go to the village and walk amongst them camouflaged. She wore a large bonnet and long sleeves, only venturing out in winter months. This is the first time she has shown herself to an outsider. Sometimes she has teased folks with little glimpses, so brief that all the viewer could say was that he or she saw something but knew not what. She has never shown herself so plainly as she did to you. She revealed herself to you clearer than she has ever even appeared to us.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know, but it concerns me. I don’t know if it is a good thing or a bad thing. She’s fae and has unorthodox views, not always in keeping with human sensibilities.”

  “Well, this island has been full of surprises for us.” I debated about telling them about all that had occurred but decided first I wanted to talk to Kay and see what she knew about the family.

  Fingal glanced at his sister. She nodded and he cleared his throat. “We would like you and your daughter to return when we are not guiding the tours and go into the caves with us.”

  I paused. “If I do come back, I’ll come alone.”

  “But she showed herself to me first, Mom!” Tate protested.

  “I know, honey, but her family isn’t even sure she is...well, safe.”

  “She wouldn’t hurt a child,” Davina protested.

  “Once, a little boy squeezed between railings and fell,” Fingal said. “He hit his head and was unconscious. She carried him to a safe place where he could be found.”

  “What about those most recent deaths?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to think she did anything, but I am not sure.”

  “Well, I won’t put my daughter at risk. I want to have some time to think this over. Can I reach you at the number for the tours?”

  “Here.” Davina produced a business card and pen and wrote on the back. “This is my cell number, too. Call me anytime. If I’m working, I’ll get back with you as soon as possible. Please think about it. It would mean so much to us.”

  The doors to the film room opened. I glanced at my phone for the time and realized the bus would be coming soon.

  “Thank you for the tour,” I said.

  “Thanks!” Tate parroted.

  Our group seemed oddly taciturn, even the Spanish girls, as we traipsed to the bus stop to wait. The bus was prompt and, in no time, we found ourselves back at our stop. I was so involved in my thoughts that time flew by.

  Since the little boys fell asleep, Tate read pamphlets we’d collected. We walked back in silence to the cottage. My mind sprinted in various directions. The kitty meowed, and Tate refilled its water dish and gave it a little food. I tried to watch how much she fed the little one. With the excitement of the day and still a bit weak from the strength-sapper, Tate curled up on the bed and fell asleep with the kitten.

  Chapter 21

  WITH DINNER IN MIND, I dug through the cabinets for ingredients I could cobble together into a main dish. Afterward, I checked my phone. No one had called or texted. Although I hadn’t asked Jess to, I’d hoped she’d thawed enough to let me know her plans. I texted Kay to ask if Jess had joined her for lunch. Kay texted back that Jessie had indeed and also wanted to stay in the village longer and catch a ride back home with Kay. I said that would be fine, resisting the urge to ask Kay to hand Jess the phone. I’d talk to Kay about the cave family when she dropped off Jess. In fact—I fired off another text, asking Kay if she would like to eat dinner with us tonight.

  She texted back, ~ YES!

  Since I had a little time before I needed to start dinner, I changed into jeans and an elderly tee to work in the garden. It was coming along nicely.

  I was at the door, when I paused. I hadn’t checked emails in ages. “Crud,” I murmured to myself.

  I sat down and pulled them up on my phone. Mrs. Grant sent her family tree. That, I’d look at later. Conall also emailed. Ugh. Definitely checking that later. Conall, and, for that matter, his nephew, too, behaved so perplexingly that I’d just about reached the point where I just wanted to avoid the whole family. Great, now I sound like Jess. I stuffed the phone into my back pocket. Next, I went to the little shed to find gardening tools, gloves, and a pad I could kneel on. As I pulled the door open, something rustled. Was it a mouse or some other kind of rodent? Scotland didn’t harbor as many snakes as Houston did.

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nbsp; It doesn’t hurt to be cautious. I picked up the closest implement, the hoe, and poked at the shelves. My shoulders scrunched up toward my ears, and I squeezed the handle so hard that my knuckles whitened. If something was going to rush out at me, I wanted to be ready to either bash it or run, depending on what it was. Hopefully, neither would be needed and some sweet little field mouse would run out, more scared of me than me of it. Wouldn’t be too surprising, I guessed. Maybe one was frightened by the wolves, hid in here, and got shut in. I leaned forward and poked the very back of the shed.

  “Oof!” someone called out.

  “Who’s in here?” Items teetered on the back-most shelf and a jar of marbles tipped and rolled off the warped wood. A small hand darted out, caught it in midair, and replaced it.

  A child? “It’s no use hiding. Stand up and show yourself.”

  “I am standing,” a low, pleasant voice sang and I swayed as if I were listening to my favorite music. “However, elevation may indeed aid me,” he continued.

  Two hands appeared on the top shelf. It teetered dangerously as a boy hoisted his body atop it and sat, dangling his legs. He grinned at me, displaying bright white teeth.

  “What are you doing hiding in my shed? You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.”

  He laughed and swung his legs. “I assure you that I am the most dangerous thing in this shed at the moment.”

  “Mom, that’s the boy who led me to the woods the night we arrived.” Tate had awakened from her nap and stood behind me.

  “Hello, Tate!” he said as he rose to his feet and bounded over objects like a mountain goat on steroids.

  I stepped aside so he could get out.

  He looked like a young boy except around the eyes. To look into his eyes was to look at someone much, much wiser...older.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “That isn’t important. I decided to pop over and see how you were. You’ve met Greg, I know. What do you think of the lad?” He walked away and, after looking at each other, Tate and I followed him to the bench where he sat. He patted beside himself, but I shook my head. If this was another fae, we’d keep our distance.

  “So...” He paused expectantly.

  “So?”

  “Greg. What do you think of him?”

  One thing was for sure, he certainly didn’t talk like any child that I knew of either.

  ‘He’s...nice. How do you know him?”

  “You might say we’re neighbors.”

  I wasn’t sure exactly what to do or think. He was obviously not ordinary, though he did look like a child, and I wasn’t one to send a young boy off alone.

  “I think you should be getting home. Why don’t you let me walk you there?”

  “Oh, not that I wouldn’t like the company, but the cost would be more than I’d be willing to pay. I can make my way alone.” He hopped off the bench and sped toward the forest.

  I shook my head, amazed at how fast he moved. “Hey! Those woods aren’t safe! There are wild wolves. Come back!”

  “Those wolves are more afraid of me than I am of them, and rightly so,” he called back. “Say, when next you see young Greg, give him a kiss for me.” Then he bounded off into the woods.

  I turned to my daughter. “Tate, you always said you couldn’t remember what happened that night.”

  “It was all fuzzy until I saw the boy and remembered.”

  “Why in the world would you wander off with a stranger, even another child?”

  Tate frowned. “I don’t know. He just made it sound like it was a good idea to go with him.”

  After I retrieved the gardening tools, I hoed at the stubborn weeds and made a note to see about the fertilizer in the shed.

  I HADN’T REALIZED HOW much time had passed until I heard Kay’s car. Tate had remained outside to help me, so I asked her to run to the front and tell them I’d be inside in just a minute, while I put up the tools we had been using. The garden looked much better. When I went in the back door, I could hear Jess talking excitedly. Thank goodness, she seemed to be in better spirits—at least around others. I washed my hands and steeled myself to expect any one of her mercurial moods.

  “Hi, Mom!” she said, beaming as if she hadn’t been ticked at me for over a day.

  “Hi, Jess. How did the library research go?”

  “The library didn’t have all that much more than what I already had checked out, but Kay gave me a cool book. I found recipes in it. Spells, I guess. Kay’s looked at them, and she says they’re safe.” She waved an old book, so worn that I couldn’t read the title. I looked at Kay, and she waved her hand slightly at me and smiled to assure me that it was indeed okay, but I still wasn’t sure I liked the idea of my daughter doing spells.

  “Jessie’s gonna be a witch! Can I be one too?” Tate asked, Jessie’s excitement catching.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Look, there’s one for protection. If we had it the first night, that fairy creature never would have taken Tate. And there are ones you can carry around with you to ward off evil spirits.”

  Of my two daughters, I never thought Jess would be the one interested in fairies. The girls went to their room to make a list of the spells they wanted to try and what they would need for them.

  Noticing my discomfort, Kay patted my hand. “Don’t worry about it, Becca.”

  “Normally, I wouldn’t. But things aren’t normal here. Those spells probably work. And I’m sure there are some that I would not want her using.”

  “There’s nothing evil in that spell book. It belonged to a white witch. Jessie will find no black magic inside.”

  I wasn’t happy at all, but I had some other questions, so I’d put that issue on the back burner.

  “Tate and I had a strange experience at the cavern.” I told her about what happened.

  Kay’s forehead wrinkled. “I do know the story, everyone does, but I don’t know anyone who’s ever seen her, except for the fleetest glimpses.”

  I also told her about the boy. “Was he even a boy?”

  “Yes, but he shouldn’t be out and about.”

  “So, you know this boy? Is there something...wrong with him?”

  “I know him—not well, but I do know him. He lives in the forest.”

  I couldn’t stay still and leapt to my feet to pace. Spinning around to face Kay, I asked, “Wait, I thought the forest was dangerous? Why would a boy live there? Why is Greg living there? Are you sure he isn’t fae or part fae too?”

  “No, Becca. Greg is a man.”

  “How many people live in that forest, anyway? Is it some kind of survivalist camp? Is that what Greg is? Is he one of those weirdoes who thinks an apocalypse is about to happen and is readying himself for Armageddon?”

  “It is...well, an island peculiarity.”

  “You know, Kay, for being friends, you keep a lot of secrets. Dangerous secrets! This boy led Tate off, and she came back with that...that life-leeching thing. If it hadn’t been for Greg—” I gulped. “We’ve dealt with wolves, a crazy goblin chick, and a weepy ghost at a pond—at least she didn’t do anything other than weep. This—this is a lot, Kay, and you’re hiding something!” It wasn’t in my nature to be accusing. I was shocked by my own shaking finger. “At this point, I’m thinking seriously about packing it up and going home to Texas.”

  Kay clasped my hand in hers. “Oh, don’t go, Becca. Please stay. You know the Scots are reserved and slow to confide.”

  “This is more than just being Scots. Why don’t you trust me enough to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I trusted you enough with my own secret.” Kay closed her eyes for a moment then opened them. “Maybe I should just go home. Maybe you don’t trust me.” She wrung her hands and glanced at the door.

  “Kay, wait, I’m sorry. You’ve been wonderful. I’m just so confused, and I worry about the girls.”

  There was a knock at the door. Kay looked at me. I shrugged. “I’m not expecting anyone other than you.�
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  I opened the door and Greg filled the doorway. “Hello,” I said, surprised and frankly, happy for the interruption.

  “Hello. Sorry for my timing. I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner.”

  “I haven’t started it yet, come in.”

  Greg entered, and he and Kay exchanged greetings. Then Kay excused herself to wash up.

  Greg turned to me. “I was wondering, have you been bothered by a boy about yea-high.” He motioned with his hand at a height at about his waist.

  “I did find a boy in the shed. He ran off into the woods. Is he a relative?”

  “No, but I am responsible for him. Has he caused you any grief?”

  “No, no grief this time, but he was the boy who led Tate into the woods. Did you know this?”

  “I suspected it might be so. He’s a mischievous imp.”

  I got right in his face...well, his chest, and glared up at him. “Why didn’t you do anything?”

  His hands landed on my shoulders and slid down to my arms. I fought to hold onto my anger.

  “I did, Rebecca. I brought your daughter back to you,” he said softly.

  “But if he’s leading children into the forest, shouldn’t he be in juvie?”

  Greg shook his head. “Juvie?”

  “A jail for youths.”

  He gave my arms a gentle squeeze. “You must ken he’s no mere child?”

  Overcome with the stress of the day and the feelings Greg unknowingly coaxed from me, I merely nodded. “He did ask me what I thought of you.”

  “Aye? And what did you say?”

  “I said you were nice.”

  “Nice,” he said flatly.

  “He also had a message that I was to give to you.”

  “And what was that?”

  I had intended to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, but when I moved closer, I couldn’t look away from his eyes. Our lips met briefly and parted. It was an innocent kiss, except for the passion which filled me. I gasped when we tenuously separated. He composed himself more quickly than I, but I knew that the kiss had meant something to him too.