The Rapha and the Firefly, page 5
“Did I do that?” she asked. “Was I that dirty?”
Rosie didn’t answer. “Let’s get you dressed,” she said instead.
That brought another wave of horror over Ariel. She felt so clean and fresh. The idea of putting on her filthy tunic again was almost more than she could bear. To her surprise, Rosie led her out of the bathroom and away from the tunic she’d left on the floor and into the bedroom. The gnome went into her closet and started searching.
“Here!” She pulled out a pretty flower print dress. “I think this will fit you. It’s low cut in the back so I think your wings will fit through. It’s going to be a little big, but we’ll cinch up the sash and no one will notice.”
Ariel’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. She’d never seen anything so dainty and beautiful, and here Rosie was offering to let her wear it! The flyer dropped the towel and allowed the gnome to help her into the cotton garment. As she was struggling into it, a singing voice came booming down the hallway. Rosie stopped.
“Sage!” She recognized his voice and flew to the bedroom door, quickly slamming and latching it as they heard the front door open.
“Hello!” the big man called out. “Rosie? Where are you?” Sage spied the closed bedroom door and headed for it. “Are you in there, Rose?”
“Yes, I am,” Rosie called back. “And stay out.”
“Come on, Lady. I need to change.”
His big hand suddenly appeared through the wood, feeling for the latch. Rosie reached over and slapped it.
“Ouch!” The hand quickly drew back.
“I said stay out!” Rosie reminded. “We’re busy in here.”
“’We’?” Sage questioned, and then remembered that Ariel was to spend the day with them. “Oh. Girl stuff.” He sounded rather disgusted with “girl stuff” but left them alone and retreated to his laboratory to study some notes on nymph ick disease.
Meanwhile, Rosie helped Ariel pull the dress down over her head and buttoned the back. Smoothing down the soft folds, the flyer looked down in admiration of the garment that felt so delightful against her. It was so much lighter than the fur tunic and soft on her skin. She twirled around and laughed as the skirt twirled behind, caught up and overtook her movement, and then fell back into place.
“How wonderful!” she squealed. The princess ran over to the mirror and grinned at the lovely dress in the reflection. The smile froze then faded as her eyes worked their way up from the garment and to her face haloed with the wet untamed mane. No matter how lovely her clothes, she would never look pretty with her unruly hair. But unlike the flyer, Rosie was undaunted.
“Now for your tresses!” she announced, approaching with brush and comb.
“Tresses?” the other questioned.
Rosie pointed at the girl’s hair, then motioned her to sit down on the bed. Ariel looked warily at the grooming instruments. She could still vividly recall her experience from the day before and gave Rosie an apprehensive look.
“I’ll be gentle.” the gnome promised.
Ariel considered. She was sure Rosie wouldn’t lie to her, but with what had happened yesterday… Ariel sat down, hoping for the best but prepared for the worst.
And it wasn’t too painful. Watching in the mirror, the flyer saw how the gnome took small locks of hair and, starting at the ends, carefully combed out the tangles and worked her way up to the roots. And as the older girl worked, the princess looked in the mirror and watched as a pretty young woman emerged from where a dirty faced, mangy girl had once been…
7
The Rise of the Swan and the Return of the Ugly Duckling
“Where’s Rosie?”
Sage looked up from his notes. He hadn’t heard Keeper and Grandma come in, flanked by Peter and the little girls. He nodded in the direction of the bedroom.
“Girl stuff,” he grunted and went back to his notes.
Keeper made a grunt of his own in acknowledgement and focused on studying the formula scrawled across Sage’s large chalkboard. Peter picked up one of Sage’s notebooks and started thumbing through it. But Grandma and the young girls were more curious than the men and knocked on the bedroom door. When they identified themselves, they were eagerly welcomed in and squealed with delight at what they saw before disappearing behind the door. The men looked up for a minute toward the door, then exchanged glances.
“Girl stuff, huh?” Keeper confirmed. Sage nodded. Keeper turned back to the board and Sage and Peter returned to their notes.
“You left out an oxygen molecule here,” Keeper commented.
“Huh?”
“Here. It should be di-oxide.”
Sage stared for a moment then swore softly. “Hop toads and peanuts! No wonder I couldn’t get the formula to work! I knew something was wrong but…” Sage huffed at his own stupidity. “You figured out a mistake in three minutes that’s been driving me bonkers for two weeks.”
“Don’t feel too bad about it. I puzzled for three days over how a rabbit could have contracted the flu.”
Sage grimaced, puzzled. “Rabbits don’t catch influenza.”
“I know. What I didn’t know is that Dill had switched a few blood vials and I was actually diagnosing one of the Weaver kids.”
Peter grinned. “My friend Titus and I nearly had him convinced that we’d found a new kind of beetle, but then the glue holding the fur started flaking off.”
Sage snorted. “Dill told me he knew it was a hoax the moment he saw it, but he played along to see how far you two would take it.” Sage shook his head. “Basic anatomy, Peter. Mammals have fur, bugs don’t.”
It was Peter’s turn to scoff. “And reptiles don’t have feathers, but now folks are saying some dinosaurs did!”
Keeper rolled his eyes. “That’s because humans believe anything they hear nowadays, and you’re starting to believe anything you’ve read those humans print.”
The men’s folly comparisons were cut short when Grandma called and summoned them out of the laboratory.
“Stay right there!” Grandma ordered as soon as they were in the main room. The young girls stood beside her, nearly hopping with glee, and grinning widely. Rosie came out of the bedroom all in an excited flutter.
“Ready?” she asked them.
The men exchanged glances, they’d all rather have been back in the lab poring over chemicals, but they nodded politely.
“Ariel!” Rosie called. And the young flyer appeared.
But the girl wasn’t the Ariel that the men remembered. This young girl walked out in dainty white stockings and delicate little feet that stepped a uncertainly in Rosie’s best shoes. The soft flowery dress gathered around a trim waist and modestly showed the curves of a pretty young lady. Her face was scrubbed clean and radiant with excitement that brought out a natural prettiness needing only a touch of blush and eye shadow to turn her into a very lovely creature indeed. And the hair: naturally wavy luscious chestnut locks were tied back from her face with a thin pink ribbon to accent the pink of the dress and show off the delicate little clip earrings and matching choker as the tresses cascaded down her back, shining with their own radiance in the sunlight coming through the high windows.
The men were speechless.
“Well!” Sage finally commented awkwardly. “I…um…Wow!”
Peter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He managed a nod.
“Nice,” he agreed.
“Thank you.” Ariel smiled shyly to the huge, befuddled gentleman and the young hopper then waited for Keeper’s comment. She couldn’t help but raise her chin a little. She was pretty. She knew she was, and Keeper would have to admit it. But when Keeper finally found his voice, his wasn’t the reaction she expected.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
The women were all taken back.
“I just thought it would be a nice treat for her…” Rosie started to explain, but Keeper cut her off.
“Look at her!” The mentor moved forward and circled the princess, examining her from head to toe. He looked down at her dress: the beautiful dress that Rosie had loaned her. Keeper definitely wasn’t noticing its beauty. “Oh, yes! That will fit right in,” he mocked. “And that hair! Neat sweet-smelling locks are all the rage in your colony right now, aren’t they? And don’t you think they’ll notice you have a face without all that dirt to hide it?”
“That’s enough, Joseph!” Grandma snapped. “How dare you make fun of her!”
“Who’s making fun of who here?” Keeper retorted back. “You and Rosie are trying to make her into one of us!”
“And that’s so awful?” Ariel wanted to know, humiliated and close to tears.
Keeper glared at her. “You’re not one of us,” he reminded the girl. “You’re a flyer. You live in a flyer colony; you live under flyer law. You go back to them in your frilly dress and your pretty hair and what are they going to think?”
Ariel hadn’t thought of that. She was at a loss for words, but Keeper didn’t pause to give her time to respond anyway.
“And what were you thinking?” he demanded of Rosie. “Teaching her your dress-up games! Now you’re going to have her wanting to try on clothes and make-up every time she’s here. But one little ribbon…” He pulled the tie from Ariel’s hair. “One little smudge of makeup that you forget about, and they’re going to know and ask questions. No, the game stops now. Put her back like she was.”
Ariel gasped. “Can’t I at least wait until Basil and Dill see?” she pleaded.
“No! I don’t want them in on this at all. Now go change! And make sure you get that smell off you!”
Yes, the soap and shampoo would be a sure give-away.
“Mud bath,” Rosie suggested.
Grandma nodded. “I’ll help you.”
“We’ll help too,” the little girls whispered. Keeper’s explosion had left them shell-shocked, and they were on the verge of tears.
So, the five of them went down to the river behind the tree and Ariel stripped off the lovely, flowered dress and handed back Rosie’s jewelry, hosiery, and shoes. The young girls held the dress and towels as the two lady gnomes rubbed mud all over the flyer – her face, hair and torso - before Ariel stepped into the water and rinsed. Along with the mud were washed away the images of herself in Rosie’s mirror from just a half-hour ago. And as she dunked herself in the water, she grew angrier and angrier with the elf up in Rosie’s house. That elf was a flyer. That elf wore the clothes of the plains’ keepers and used soap and shampoo. And that elf was one of them, a plains’ keeper and that was something she would never be.
“I hate him,” she finally confessed, meaning every word.
The youngsters gasped.
“Don’t say such things!” Rosie hoarsely admonished her as she helped the flyer into her filthy tunic. “He’s only saying the truth. It was a very stupid thing we did, and I’m sorry I suggested it.”
Ariel looked at her sorrowfully. “But I was one of you. I was pretty and wearing pretty clothes and so happy. And now it’s gone.”
“Keep it here for always,” Rosie said, tapping Ariel’s forehead. And Ariel knew that she would keep the memory forever. But remembering didn’t erase the fact that it could only be a memory. As Rosie towel-dried Ariel’s hair, the flyer knew there would be no brush and comb used this time or any time ever again.
“I still hate him.”
Grandma sadly hugged the young girl. She couldn’t help but to feel sorry for the frustrated, ragged child before her.
“He did say your hair was pretty,” Hope reminded her.
“Yes, he did,” Grace agreed.
Ariel did remember that. “Can I hate him anyway?” she asked.
Grandma chuckled. “Let’s go back. Basil and Dill might be there by now.”
Dill and Basil arrived as the girls came up from the river. The dark-haired hopper greeted the princess with a wink.
“Hi, gorgeous!” he said.
The girls all exchanged looks but said nothing. Basil gave her a quick hug as they entered the hallway and noticed her wet hair.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
“She fell in the river,” Rosie quickly answered. “We went down to find some berries for dessert, and she slipped on the bank.”
But as they entered the main room, Basil sense there was more to it than that. None of them were carrying any berries and only Ariel’s hair was wet: not her tunic. And why did Grandma have a towel under her arm? Why was Hope trying to hide a dress behind her back? And was that a bit of necklace that wasn’t quite concealed in Grace’s little hand? And Ariel seemed quite upset about something.
“Are you alright?” Basil queried.
“Yeah, I’m just mad I got wet!” She shot an angry accusing look across the room at Keeper. He just glared back.
“So how was your day?” Basil asked them. “Everything go ok?”
“Oh, yeah,” Rosie answered for the princess again. “Ariel’s a wonderful student and the kids just love her.”
Basil looked from Rosie to Ariel and back again, not sure what to think. Ariel was angry about something: Rosie was trying to give the impression everything was fine. Grandma was quietly whispering to her students who seemed to be on the verge of tears. His eyes shifted to Keeper who was intently listening to Dill. Or at least the mentor gave the appearance of listening. Basil looked over at Dill. His friend was obviously oblivious to there being anything wrong and was starting into a detailed account of his attempts to remove a thorn from a squeamish water nymph’s foot. Sage alternated looking at Dill and looking at the floor, quickly looking away when Basil looked in his direction. Peter was slouched in a chair, staring at the floor. The young Rapha looked back over at Grandma for a clue to what was going on, but she avoided his gaze entirely by reminding them of why they were all there.
“Oh, my goodness!” she loudly remarked. “We’re all standing here gabbing and the food’s getting cold. Dill; grab some plates! Sage, get some ice from the cooler. Ariel, come help me dish up the spaghetti while Rosie makes some tea. Grace, grab the silverware and Hope, you can get the glasses down. Joseph, you and Peter: you bring in some more firewood. Their supply’s low.”
The elves scattered, relieved to get away from the tense moment. Only Basil, still on crutches, was left with nothing to do, so he watched the others at their chores. In mere minutes they were all gathered around the table, ready to eat. Basil cast another look at the flyer sitting next to him. Ariel still looked quite upset. He wished he could think of a way to cheer her up…
“Oh, I forgot something.” The young hopper dug into his breast pocket. “Mrs. Weaver came by today. She left these with me.” And from his pocket, he pulled two squares of spider silk cloth: one dyed violet and the other pink. He handed them to Ariel. The princess stared at them uncomprehending for a moment and then gasped in disbelief.
“My handkerchiefs?” she breathed, not daring to believe they belonged to her.
“Yeah. We weren’t sure what colors you liked, so I told her pink and purple. I hope you don’t mind.”
In answer, the princess gave a squeal of delight and threw her arms around the young man. Caught off guard, Basil nearly tumbled out of his chair but caught himself just in time.
“Oh, my very own handkerchiefs!” Ariel crowed when she finally let go of the hopper. She knew she would have to hide them in her tunic or risk having them taken away by someone in her colony, but they were hers!
“What are they for anyway?” she inquired.
Rosie wrinkled her nose. “Let’s just eat for now and talk about that later.”
The others readily agreed. The tension in the room had been broken and as they bowed their heads, Basil couldn’t help smiling to himself at the thought of trying to teach Ariel how to blow her nose.
The petition was said over the meal and plates passed around.
“So, what happened to Logos?” Ariel asked. She wanted to get her mind off the events of the last hour.
“How far have you gotten?” Keeper asked them. Ariel inwardly cringed, angry that he was now sticking his nose into the story telling. She was already regretting that she’d brought it up.
Oblivious to the flyer’s feelings, Basil ticked off the topics on his fingers: “The beginning, the war of the guardians, the naming of the animals and the beautiful creation.”
“Ah, huh.” Keeper sat back and nodded. He knew which story came next: “The Fall.”
The little girls gasped.
“I don’t like that story!” Grace announced. “It’s too sad!”
“But we have to have that story for the rest to make sense.” Basil explained.
“What’s the fall?” the flyer inquired of her original teacher. “Like when the leaves change?”
“No, not that,” Hope told her.
“Like when someone trips?”
“No. It’s not that fall either!”
“So, what does it mean then?” the flyer asked, exasperated.
Keeper described it as if reciting an invisible list: “To fail, to become less than who you were, to drop to a lower position, to be thrown down…”
The princess cut him off. “Well, which one is it?” she wanted to know.
Keeper raised an eyebrow, but otherwise overlooked her rudeness. “All of them,” he said.
Ariel looked around the table. No one was eating. they were all looking at her.
She huffed. “So, is someone going to tell me this story or not?”
“Are you going to ask nicely?” Keeper inquired.
She glared at him. Being nice to him was the last thing she wanted to do, but she did want to hear the next story. She dropped her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“Could someone please tell me the story?”
The others seemed to relax a little and Basil looked around the table wondering who could tell this next story with the decorum it needed.
