See Me

by Higgins, Wendy

  “Are they expecting us?” I asked.

  “I assume so. We swore to the Fae woman we’d bring you to the Leprechaun land when you were seventeen and completed your education.”

  “How far is the nearest town?” Cassidy’s voice carried a hint of dread.

  “At least an hour by car, maybe two.”

  “Wow,” Cass said. “A giant farm with no tall guys. Sounds… fun.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard the Leprechaun know how to have a good time,” Mom assured us. “Big parties with music and dancing.”

  I shot Cass a glance, and nearly snorted at the funny look on her face. A Leprechaun’s idea of a good time was not going to be the same kind of song and dance we enjoyed.

  “And they do have a cousin clan called the Clourichaun who live on nearby land. I understand there are quite a few average-sized men among them.” Cass waggled her eyebrows as Mom went on, slurring her words. “The Clourichaun lost flavor with the Fae, ahem, excuse me, they lost favor with the Fae a few centuries ago. I’m not sure what happened there, but they were cursed with infertility. What’s left of them will be the last of them.”

  “That sucks,” I said. “They must’ve done something pretty bad.”

  “Maybe that’s what I’ll do for fun,” Cass offered.

  “What?” I asked. “Get cursed by the Fae?”

  “No. I’ll get the lowdown on all the clan gossip. I’m not holding out any hope for cute boys, so I’ve got to stay busy.”

  “I see.” We were semi-joking and I knew Cass was trying to get my mind off the worse stuff, but the air was still thick with discomfort.

  “I’m good at being nosy,” Cass added.

  “You certainly are.” Mom finished off her third glass of wine. “I’m knackered. I think I’ll go have a lie down next to Daddy.”

  “You do that, wino,” Cassidy said. Mom leaned across me and pinched my sister’s thigh, making her holler and jump. Then Mom patted my cheek, warming me with the love in her eyes as she whispered, “I’m sorry, my sweet girl.”

  With a heavy heart, I nodded.

  Looking around to be sure we were safe, she snapped the protective bubble of magic and stood, wobbling on her way across the row to sit next to Dad. He watched, amused, and held out a hand to steady her until she was snuggled up in the seat by his side. He draped an arm across her and looked over at me with question in his eyes. I could almost hear his voice asking me if I was all right. I gave him a small nod; it would be useless for him to worry. His half grin showed that he appreciated my strong act, even though he could see through it. Dad lifted the magazine again and stroked Mom’s hair.

  Cassidy rolled her eyes at our lovey-dovey parents.

  I wondered if I’d ever be able to have that kind of adoration with someone. I wasn’t in a position to have such dreams and hopes, especially now. All of my romantic notions had flown out the window and landed somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, sinking hard, probably lodged in a continental drift by now.

  I didn’t want to feel angry or cheated or tricked, but I did. I spent the rest of the long flight mourning the loss of the boy I’d foolishly allowed myself to envision for years on end. By the time we arrived in Ireland I’d said good-bye to the dream, and let him go. It was time to move on and face reality. Life was too short to wallow.

  Too short. Ugh.

  DESPITE THE WHOLE, “Surprise, you’re engaged to a Leprechaun!” bomb, Cassidy and I were happy to arrive in Ireland. I’d done plenty of research over the years, so I knew it would be beautiful, but seeing it in real life was so much better. It was called the Emerald Isle for a definite reason. The fields and hills were a lush green.

  I loved listening to people talk during our layover at Dublin Airport, even when I could hardly understand what they said. I enjoyed the dry, witty senses of humor and openness of the Irish. A few people got excited when they realized we weren’t locals. We went for coffee and tea at an airport café, and when a little boy heard me order my mocha latte he said, “Ooh, say that again, miss!” His mother laughed and told me he fancied my accent. I had an accent!

  Our next flight was on a tiny, rickety propeller plane to a smaller regional airport in Sligo where I changed from sweats into something nicer. The temperature was comfortable, and a light rain fell. Dad warned us to use the bathroom before we got on the road because we were heading in a direction that wouldn’t have any rest stops. Cassidy gave me a fearful look. My little city girl.

  We crammed the bin into the trunk of a compact rental car and tied a luggage carrier on top before setting out on our journey. I wasn’t the anxious type, but my heart began a steady round of odd palpations. It was going to be a long ride. I clutched my stomach.

  Dad caught my reflection in the rear view mirror. “You okay back there?”

  “Yeah, fine. Stomach hurts a little, that’s all.”

  Mom turned in her seat to look at me, and said, “Most likely the airplane food.”

  I nodded, even though we both knew that wasn’t the reason.

  “Better crack a window if you have gas,” Cassidy said. “This car’s way too small for that.”

  “You would know,” Dad said. “You’re the queen of not cracking the window.”

  And then laughing like an evil hyena when the smell hit us.

  Cass smiled with pride.

  Another spasm wracked my insides and I curled forward. When Cassidy awkwardly patted my shoulder I leaned over and lay across her lap. It felt a little odd since I was usually the one comforting her, not the other way around, but I’d never needed her more. For the first time in my life I wanted to complain about my circumstances—I wanted to scream at Dad to turn around. How could he sit up there looking so calm about driving me to my impending doom?

  As if sensing my silent judgment, he reached back without taking his eyes from the road and placed a strong, gentle hand on my arm.

  “It will all work out,” he said.

  I heard Mom sniffle. Above me I saw Cassidy swipe a finger across her cheeks.

  The car hummed with sadness. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Um, how ‘bout a movie?” Cass asked, her voice thick with emotion. She struggled to get the laptop out of her bag in the small space by her feet, bouncing my head around in the process. After much grunting and several whispered uses of her favorite word, she finally had it out. We crammed it in the tiny space on the console between Mom and Dad’s arms. My mind was not on the movie, and a few glances up at Cass’s glassy eyes told me that hers wasn’t either. But it filled the silence and passed the time.

  After an hour I sat up and looked around.

  “We are seriously in the middle of nowhere,” Cassidy said. “Do you know where you’re going, Dad?”

  “Of course,” he said, tapping his head. “I’ve got it all up here. One of the few Dightheach who’s been here gave me directions.”

  Rolling hills of grass and wildflowers spanned in every direction, with occasional patches of forests and brush. After growing up around the hustle and bustle of D.C., it was serene and even a little spooky to be somewhere so rural and remote. We’d been on road trips before, but even when we passed through croplands there were farms and barns to be seen. Out here, miles passed without signs of homes or life. At least the rain had stopped.

  When we went over a particularly large hill and rounded the bend, a giant rainbow appeared, sparkling high in the sky above fields of green grass. I tensed.

  Cassidy pointed to it. “Hey, just follow that rainbow and it’ll take us right to them!”

  Mom and Dad cracked a smile at each other, but their faces quickly straightened when I didn’t partake in their mirth.

  “Where are we, exactly?” I asked, trying not to sound too grumpy.

  “County Leitrim,” Dad answered.

  “How much longer?” Cassidy squirmed in the cramped seat. “My butt’s asleep.”

  “Sit tight, chickadee. Not much longer.” Dad was always so calm. I could see his knees c
rammed under the steering wheel, but he never complained.

  Thirty minutes later Mom pointed to a giant rock up ahead in front of a cluster of leafy trees. Dad slowed and turned directly after the boulder onto a tiny dirt road that cut through the trees.

  “We’re coming up to the wards now,” Mom warned.

  Sure enough, a shimmery veil revealed itself up ahead and I braced myself as the car bumped along and crept through it. Sudden pressure squeezed my head and my skin burned. For a frightening moment I couldn’t even breathe. When the discomfort eased we all took deep breaths.

  The car crept forward into a tunnel of thick trees and it darkened as shade bore down around us. Dusk was beginning to set. Dad had to switch on the headlights.

  “I can’t believe we’re here,” I whispered. An ominous quiet fell over the car and all around us. Cassidy took my hand. Mom cast a brave smile at me, but her eyes were tinged with worry.

  I’d never been so nervous in all my life. I’m pretty sure even the backs of my knees were sweating, which I didn’t even know was possible.

  After five minutes of winding through the trees, we burst out into a vast clearing of grass. Cassidy and I leaned forward with our heads in the middle to see. There appeared to be a faint path in the grass, but we were basically off-roading now. I hoped the car could handle the small ruts. We came up over the largest hill so far, and when we got to the top my sister and I gasped. Mom even reached over and grabbed Dad’s hand as he stopped the car.

  In the dim setting sunlight, a medieval-looking village was nestled in the valley below: a large, one-story building with a steepled log roof surrounded by many small structures, like thatched huts. The rumors had been true. This place was definitely not modern. There was even a water-well!

  Cassidy’s mouth gaped open. “Holy shitballs. We’re in the Shire.”

  “Language,” Mom deadpanned automatically.

  On the other side of the village I could make out a clearing right before another forest began. Flickering lights shone through the leaves and around the huts, like fires had been lit.

  “Listen,” Dad said.

  We rolled down our windows and whimsical sounds spilled in: musical notes, voices and laughter, clapping to a festive tune. Hearing those happy sounds calmed me a little. Cassidy’s fingers wiggled in mine. Our palms were damp, but neither of us let go. Mom turned to me.

  “Are you ready, love?”

  “No.” I laughed shakily. It took every ounce of my will power to say, “But I’ll be okay. Let’s go.”

  Dad shifted back into drive and coasted down the hill. He parked on the closest side of the village, rather than pulling around and driving up to their party, which I was glad about. I’d hate to scare them to death if they’d never seen a crazy vehicular contraption. Surely they’d seen cars with previous visitors, right? After setting sight on this village I had to wonder.

  “You’re looking kinda rough,” Cassidy told me. “Do you want to brush your hair or something?”

  I patted my crazy waves and shook my head. What was the point? Cass shrugged and applied some shimmery lip gloss. At the last second I snatched the lip gloss from her and swiped some on with a trembling hand.

  We climbed out and moaned, stretching and cracking. I attempted to smooth my hands over the wrinkles in my white linen blouse, but there was no use. At least my khaki skirt survived the car trip well. I sighed and tried to relax as Cassidy combed her fingers through my hair, scrunching it a little. Then my parents came forward and simultaneously kissed me—Dad on my temple and Mom on my cheek. They led the way around the village, holding hands, while Cass and I followed close behind, linked arm in arm.

  I don’t want to go. I don’t want to do this. Please don’t make me.

  My body took on a mind of its own as I walked: clumsy feet, fluttery heart rate, jittery knees. I probably would have wobbled to the ground like some fainthearted actress if I didn’t have such a tight hold on Cassidy’s arm. I couldn’t wait to meet McKale and get it over with so my body could go back to normal. Weak did not suit me.

  As we rounded the corner, the four of us stopped. The sky had darkened, illuminating four giant bonfires at each corner of the expansive clearing. The back of the flat field was lined with forest, and on the other two sides were tall rows of flowering grasses. At least a hundred little people were gathered, both men and women. There were long rows of wooden tables with benches along the edges of the fields of grasses where people ate, drank, and conversed. In the center was music and dancing.

  My first thought was that I’d been wrong. The Leprechauns definitely knew how to throw a party. The atmosphere was festive and lively. I bit my lip against a smile at their outfits. They weren’t wearing green top hats and buckled shoes, but some of the older-looking men did have on little gray suits with waistcoats, the kind with tails that hung lower in the back. Others wore tunic shirts with plain pants, like woodsy hospital scrubs, only in natural colors like tan, brown, and forest green. Nearly everyone was barefoot. Some of the males wore little caps that resembled berets. The women wore simple peasant dresses with their hair pinned up.

  Everyone looked so happy. I wanted to feel happy, too. Not this sense of despair.

  Two bearded men in suits sitting at the end of a table noticed us and jumped up, hurrying over. They went straight to my father, looking way up and shaking his hand with exuberance.

  “You must be Mister Mason, then!” said the older little gentleman with a long, white beard. He wore a matching charcoal cap, which he took off to reveal a shiny bald top with tufts of fluffy gray hair around the sides.

  “Yes, sir,” Dad said. “That’s me. Call me Leon, please. This is my wife, Cecelia.”

  “So nice to have you! I’m Brogan, the father of McKale, I am.” He bowed toward my mother and she inclined her head to him in return. Then he looked toward Cassidy and me.

  “This is Cassidy, our youngest,” Mom introduced. “And this… is Robyn.”

  Brogan nodded at Cassidy and then came forward to stand in front of me. He bowed low and I let go of Cass’s arm to do a curtsy/bow combo, which felt absurd. He straightened and smiled big, wrinkling his whole face and eliciting a smile back from me. I felt like I should squat to talk to him because of the height difference, but stood straight for fear of appearing condescending.

  “Ye’ve a pretty face, Robyn, that’s fer certain,” he said.

  “Thank you, Mister Brogan.”

  He gave a hearty laugh. “Just Brogan is fine by me. I suppose ye’ll be wanting to meet my McKale, then, eh?”

  No! Not yet.

  The moment I’d waited for all these years was here, and now all I wanted was more time.

  Brogan winked up at me. Why did he seem so happy? Couldn’t he see this was a bad fit? Didn’t it bother him that his poor son was being forced to marry a behemoth female? I bit my lip as he peered around at the crowd. He pointed to the middle.

  “There he is, back there fiddlin’. Soon as this song ends I’ll call to ‘im. He’s our best fiddler, he is.” Brogan grinned up at me with pride and I followed his gaze toward his son. My face wore a neutral expression that I’d practiced to perfection. I didn’t want to give away the fact that my heart was going ballistic or that my insides had all but liquefied.

  I’d spent my life dreaming of him. And then I’d spent every moment of the last day undreaming him. As much as I prided myself on emotional control, it all fell to the wayside as I weaved my sights through the sea of dancing little people, seeking out the sound of the fiddle, and finding the source sitting on a tree stump.

  My hand flew to my rapidly pounding heart in my throat as I stared. Sitting on the stump with his long legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles, was a redheaded guy playing his heart out—an average-sized man among the little people.

  I think I made a really weird squeaking sound, but I couldn’t be sure.

  His eyes were closed. His wrist moved back and forth over the polished
fiddle at high speed, ringing out pure notes of sunshine in the darkness. I would remember every detail of those few seconds for the rest of my days. I’d expected to feel emotional when I laid eyes on him. But I hadn’t expected the emotion to be so intense that it would impact me physically. Blood rushed through my veins at an alarming speed. My mind swirled and I swear I tilted to the side, off balance and unable to fully fill my lungs.

  Cassidy was the drama queen, not me. To be so out of control was disorienting.

  “Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh!” Cassidy squealed, and started jumping up and down and clapping when she saw him. Mom grasped her by the wrist and begged her not to make a scene. My family beamed at me and my eyes stung.

  I looked back at McKale. His father had been right to brag; he played beautifully. I’d never known anyone who played a violin. I loved the bursts of tinny sound, especially when combined with the high-pitched wooden flute of the Leprechaun boy next to him. It was a lively tune that had everyone kicking up their heels, clapping, and spinning one another round.

  Brogan turned and caught my expression.

  “No’ bad, eh?” he asked. I smiled and nodded my head. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I would squeal idiotically like Cassidy. I looked over and saw her wiping tears from her face. Oh, man, I wished she wouldn’t do that. When she caught my eye she gave a great laughing sob and reached out to hug me. I was such a firmly wound bundle of emotion that I had to lock my jaw and swallow hard. We pulled away as the song ended, and my heart began doing that slamming thing in my chest again.

  The crowd cheered and Brogan hollered McKale’s name, waving his arms at him. I held my breath as McKale lowered his instrument and peered around the crowd, searching for the caller. As soon as he spotted him, Brogan motioned toward me. Cassidy stepped away, nearer to our parents, leaving me as the lone beacon for McKale’s sights. His eyes moved slowly from his father… to me, and stuck there.