uncomfortable and reminded us both that we were not
the same kind, although we looked similar, of species,
entirely. Ah, but we had a marvelous time, nonetheless, and after a
long and well-deserved sleep, during which I never lost
my smile emanating from the good time had by all, I set
my mind to my business about the six-shaped tree to find
the goblin of Old Soul’s Hollow. Blossom had told me
to bring with me a sweet cake to set amid the half moon
center of the tree that grew like six trees in a half circle,
all joined together at the base. It formed almosta natural
ampitheater back drop for people of the trees - ofwhich
a goblin is considered, although a bit more outtedby the
horticulture in which he is usually found. This goblin of
the hollow lived within the most unusual tree in the
wood, and so he was more than just ‘unique’, rarely
found, and not a typical specimen of tree people. This
gave to him a creepiness as did his shape. Wee folk are
not often found in the company of goblins, anyway, and
humans, due to rumors, downright fear them. All
Hollows-Eve, Blossom told me, he held a dance at the
Six-shaped tree like none other! She whirled about as she told me this, with her hands stretched up high into
the air. Because of this, she never feared the Old Soul’s
goblin and told me to tell him ‘hello’ from her. She also
said to add a bit of anise hyssop - which grew in the
shape of stars - to his sweet cake, as he loved a bit of
‘spice’ and well-deserved it for the merry and enchanting
night he’d brought into these woods. I knew Blithe
would either have this spice, or know where I couldfind
it, so I set out to the sisters’ after a good stretch,
thinking that they just might have a cake already baked.
I vowed not to tell the ladies about the goblin of the
hollow, nor of the enchantment of their sheep tender, as
I did not want to cause them any fear; nor, seeing how I
often relied upon their help, give them any reason to is
trust my friendship or give a cause to dislike the only
member of the magic wee folk that they knew, so far.
This thought caused me a giggle in how I’d once plotted
to capture a fairy like Blossom and show her to Blithe.
Yet this day, thinking of Blossom, I realized I might be in love with her, so I mentioned this to Blithe, during
tea.
“I think I might marry her,” I said.
“Marry?!” Blithe said like the lemon from her
tea had just stuck to the tip of her tongue. Then, she
set down her cup into its saucer with a sudden noise that
startled me.
“Blithe?” I asked, “is this about your sister, again?
Because, honestly, I’ve got some place to be going,” I
tried to excuse myself but she launched into an entirely
too long for my attention span snit, due to the fact that
I was all excited in my anticipation of seeing the Goblin,
about her troubles. She was so out of sorts, compared to
her usual sensibility and calmness that I was able to move
about the kitchen as she paced, talking while her hands
made gestures through the air. I actually looked inside
several cupboards without her noticing.
Just as she blurted out her worst fear during the
entire lecture, “I’m afraid, Mr. Twinks, Honor - my sister - might actually think she can marry this, this
sewing machine man!” I had found the spice rack and the
jar labeled, Star Anise. I jumped as I turned and saw her
looking right at me. Until this point, from the M-word
(marry), I’d uttered, I’d been quite ignored as she ranted
and paced. I froze.
“Mr. Twinks? You do see my dilemma, don’t
you?”
“I’m sorry,” I said; and then, I did something I
should never have done, in order to get my hands on a
bit of the spice, I agreed, “Yes, I do.”
“I can see you’re upset,” I later thought back on
it, would have been a much better (response) choice of
words to tell worried Blithe than to have agreed with
her rather mean-spirited thoughts of denying her sister,
my friend and seamstress of my very favorite coat I’d
ever owned, her heart’s desire. This arguing with her
bit, se her off again in full support of her own argument
drummed up by her previous emoting of fears, worries, and - as I thought when I first heard it and do now, as
well - jealousy. She was downright jealous. But, now,
she thought she had someone who agreed with her. Her
tone changed. Her pacing slowed into deliberate steps
across black and white kitchen floor tiles.
“Cad!” I thought to myself - about myself - as I
knew I had just betrayed my friend, Honor, to bide
myself some time. I furiously emptied two tablespoons
of Anise into a linen napkin as Blithe devised a plan.
First, she would talk to Honor about her fears and
demand that she cease all social contact with him at once.
I tossed sugar cubes into the napkin, pausing to
turn toward Blithe and smile, in almost a choreographed
dance every time she said, “Don’t you agree, Mr.
Twinks?” without really a question mark sound at the
end of her question at all. Although I left the
McGillicutty house that day with a linen knapsack full of
everything I needed to make the Old Soul’s goblin a
wickedly good sweet cake - sure to make him my friend forever - I also left with a guilty conscious.
I had not stood up for my good friend. A friend
who had done me a favor - that led to one of the
happiest times of my life; and, I think it was the very
existence of this guilt that later caused me to do
something - something I had never done - something to
over compensate, perhaps - and something to which my
mother would have thought devilishly wicked, although
it started from an honest wish. A wish that Honor
McGillicutty would know the same freedom in this new
North Woods that I had known - having not known
freedom until then - I suddenly realized that maybe
Honor, Honor McGillicutty, my friend, had not known
freedom at all - not even here - and I wished, right then,
with the catch of a dandelion spirit tumbling through the
air at me, as I held it tightly in my palm, and then blew
it with a wish of all of my heart, back into the air
toward the pond - for a rescue - or what turned out to
be the enchantment of Honor McGillicutty! I wished for Honor McGillicutty to join the fairy ring dance.
At home again, I lit the little twig of my pond
stone fireplace and set the tray full of sweet cakes above
the flame. The scent of spice filled my house rapidly
and I jumped in the air, then did a quick dance, humming
a tune I remembered from the night
before. I iced the cakes for a special effect, then I
sprinkled crushed walnuts on top in the shape of astar,
and ran off with them - packed up tight - to the Six
shaped tree. I’d made many cakes, because I’d planned
&nb
sp; to do more than just coax him out. I set two cakes in the
center of the semi-circle shaped base of the tree and then
stepped back several paces, as Blossom had suggested, sat
quietly down, watched and waited for him to come out.
The first thing I saw was a set of green toes, sticky and
a bit like a tree frog’s - only larger, much larger, and
quite a bit larger than my own. I felt a quick feeling of
anxiousness and then a fright, as next came his head
which I wasn’t expecting just after the toes. “He’s a goblin, alright,” I thought, calming myself
with a reminder that he was indeed the very reason I’d
come, and I couldn’t let on I was scared, seeing how
Blossom nearly called him a friend.
“Hello!” I said nervously, and then his eyes
shifted round him ‘til they came to rest upon me
squatting near the forest floor, ten paces back from the
sweet cakes. His head disappeared, quickly; and then,
two feet showed up and then plop! He jumped down
from the tree, onto the loam of the forest soil - same as
me. At first I had the thought just to run; but then I
thought about why I had come again, and I took a deep
breath and I watched him, instead. It was fascinating,
really, seeing him approach the sweet cakes calmed my
fears. He was green, all green - some darker hues, some
lighter, but even his eyes and his hair were deep green.
He snuck up, upon the sweet cakes, as if they might
move or run away, but he did this very slowly and the
word ‘sticky’ kept arising in my mind as I watched. After he ‘caught’ the sweet cakes up in his arms, I
thought he would talk to me, but he sat right down on
his bottom, looked left to right and left again, then
began eating them, slurping often and occasionally
sending out a long, green tongue from his mouth that
licked the sticky goodness from his entire face in one
long, swift, circular motion.
“Ahh,” I moaned and had to look away, as I felt
my tummy turn with a bit of nauseousness as I watched.
“Hm!” he exclaimed and when I turned back to
look he was already beginning his way back up the tree.
“But wait!” I jumped up and yelled, which must
have startled him, because he hurried round the tree to
the back and then slowly popped his head back out to
look. Right at me! Eye to eye with a goblin, I was. I
spoke quickly to explain.
“Blossom said to tell you hello,” I started in. One
hand of his popped back into sight. He smiled. An
awful and gruesome set of teeth showed green and mossy.
I almost laughed. “I was wondering ,” I said,
about a human boy, the one who tends the sheep for the
ladies and several others in the hollow - up here, on the
rise in the meadow. I was hoping you could tell me
about young Einion Gloff. How was it that he ended up
among the faeries? And do you now, when or if he will
ever go home again?”
Well, with that the Old Soul’s goblin rubbed his
chin with his sticky hand and he slid back down thetree.
He loved to act and pace, I could tell, recounting stories,
gossip, and things he had heard from the wood. At
times he would bend low and turn his head round, his
body sweeping in an arc motion to look at me on several
points which added a bit of drama to the tale, indeed.
But, when he whirled about the last time and once again
looked straight at me he uttered these words that
startled me.
“No one will ever go home.” “But that can’t be!” I said, “he is very good
watching the sheep, even shearing their wool for the
ladies. What will they do?”
“You must do it,” he said, “or find someone else.”
“But maybe he wants -”
“He doesn’t!” the goblin interrupted with a sharp
tone, but then in a softer voice he said, “he was
the boy of a cruel father who made him sleep with the
sheep. Beaten after a hard days work, he was, just one
too many times. This lowly man gave Einion to the
ladies for money, but never told the ladies and they
didn’t know where he was or slept at night. Mind
yourself and never doubt the work of fairies.” Then he
turned his back on me and crossed his arms about him.
His feet planted, he stood tall with a back straight and
rigid. His bottom lip rose above his top lip, nearly to his
nose. I figured this was a pout so I unpacked two more
sweet cakes and set them near enough to the goblin then
backed away again. He smelled them , sniffed the air, and then crouched low
and stalked and ‘caught’ them like he’d done before.
I apologized for doubting the fairies mischief and
explained, “I was born in the land of the Twelyth Teg
who were sometimes known for the enticements and
magic even wee folk didn’t like to hear about, like
dancing humans right up to their deaths.”
The goblin lifted on finger, then pointed out him
self as he gobbled and munched, making a “Mph!”
sound, then smiling a bit.
“The father,” he grunted out and then his long
tongue shot out and encircled his face, with a slurp
sound, it snapped back in. I ducked a bit of saliva that
flew from his tongue as it went back in. I rubbed my
chin and thought if this were some kind of fairy justice
or not.
But then, the goblin shook his head from left to
discerning,” and then he held his hand in a cup shape near his ear; his eyes shifted left to right, again. “They
never listened, never watched.” I realized this was true.
Among the hills of Ireland, they enticed whomever they
approached while traveling, their eery yet lively music
always playing. Goblins often wandered with them.
They’d given that whole ‘justice’ thing up, probably after
the last trial in Ireland where the wee folk and fairies
were once again denied their rights. And so it went, I
suppose, when a human entered their merry troupe, they
cared not of the human and dark magic set in, allowed to
work without a stop.
“Love can always break a spell or stop
enticement,” I said, and I wondered if I should tell his
father, anyway.
Then I asked, “You said young Einion’s father
sold him to the ladies?” he nodded his head and
chomped noisily. I immediately thought of disconnected,
lonely Blithe and how happy she’d been when young
Gloff brought her the wool from her sheep purchase, only six weeks past her initial investment.
“Bonny!” I said and I thanked him profusely.
“Here!” I said handing him one more sweet cake,
then I took home the last one and it myself.
That evening, I counted the night’s until the next
full moon. I felt another twinge of guilt and blamed
myself as I thought of the green coat I’d wear and if I
would see Blossom before the next time the fairieswould
meet within
the magic circle beneath the Yew tree in the wood.
The Faerie Ring Dance
Chapter Eight * A Fair Proposal
IIIIn the coming days, my guilt let do frequent
visits to the McGillicutty home bearing several gifts
which I brought out when Honor and I were alone, so
she knew they were especially for her. I mentionedher
seamstress skills each time - the last of which shepaused
and asked, point blank, if I was wooing her into sewing
several other coats for me and was delighted when she
brought out an early Christmas gift - a purple coatwith
pants to match, a hat, and ruffled neck attire. When
this caused me to wheel a cartful of lavender overto fill
her sachets, she sat me down while Blithe arranged tea
and refreshments at the kitchen table.
During my explanation of the gift, she whispered
so Blithe wouldn’t hear, “My dear Mr. Twinks, although I enjoy your company and the frequency of which you
visit, I’m afraid I cannot return your affections.”
“I -”
She interrupted to explain, “Two reasons, really.
One, well, I’m afraid your stature, while not anything
less than adorable - and your species - well, Mr. Twinks,
you must realize it is a crush you seem to have which can
really go no further, and -” She stopped talking inmid
sentence and moved her head in a slight motion toward
the door through which Blithe had just entered, carrying
a tray full of items for tea.
“Thank you, sister,” Honor fussed at the table in
front of her making sure there was room for the tray
Blithe set down, which there always was as it was the
specific table for the tea tray.
“Goodness,” Blithe said, “I’ve forgotten the sweet
goat’s cream Mr. Twinks was nice enough to have
brought with him.” She cleared her throat, and
emphasized the next word, “a -g-a-I-n, today.” Then she looked at her sister and pointed toward the kitchen.
“I’ll just go get it,” she said.
“Yes, sister, that will be lovely, won’t it?” and
then Blithe answered in a long, drawn out, “Yes-s-s,”
looking at me the entire time she spoke the word. Then
she turned on one heel and was gone.
Honor spoke before I could, “And the other
reason, dear Mr. Twinks,”
“Narn,” I said, as I was frustrated too, not being
able to explain, and as all the ‘Mr. Twinkses’ were