Back to the Fuchsia (8 page)

Her voice changed to a mocking rendition of Randy. “‘Jessica, you’re a very unfortunate soul. You see, homeschooling never prepared you for goth, gangster, nerd, geek, stoner, jock, or any pubescent social group that encourages you to feed on each other’s angst and collective self-doubt in order to express what, in effect, is simply just another tidily packaged and labeled cultural stereotype’. Geesh! Whatever the hell he meant by all that! Like I actually understood any of it. Yeah, so I decided to swim up the mainstream and become a poverty-stricken underprivileged waitress.”

“Wow! I didn’t know all that, Jessica. Anyway, Ezzy. Yes, you and I are witches. In fact, you are senior to me. You’re 387 years old, but you don’t look a day over twenty-seven. I’m only 161 years old, but I’ve only been fully alive for twenty-six years because most of that time I was basically an ice sculpture, thanks to some poor decisions on my part.”

Ezzy slumped to the floor and curled up like a cat, mumbling absolute gibberish. You sometimes hear people say something strange in times of utter desperation, like they could just curl up in the fetal position and cry. But when someone actually does it? Let me tell you, it was really quite a sight to behold.

“Ezzy? Ezzy?” I poked her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“What’s wrong with her, Gertie? Is there anything you can do?”

“Hmm, well, I’m no gynecologist, but I’d say it’s her brain. She isn’t acting like the Ezzy I know, that’s for sure. It’s all the more reason to find a witch or wizard around here.”

The New Ezzy

I
t took nearly twenty minutes of sobbing before Ezzy managed to sit up. “I’ve lost my mind. I started off like a blank canvas here, and over the past year, I’ve coped by painting a version of my life on the duke’s estate. Actually thought I was doing quite well, then you two show up with your fantastic tales. I don’t know what to think.”

“Ezzy, trust me. I can get you home and back to your old self again. If you let me.”

“Where do we start? You realize you are not free to just ramble about the countryside. You are expected at court tonight. I’ll stay close by and keep the wolves at bay. And trust me, there are plenty of those.”

“But I’d love to pet a big fluffy wolf!” Jessica squealed as she put her hands on my cheeks and rubbed her face on mine, as if I was a big cuddly Saint Bernard dog.

“Me, too!” I squealed.

“No. The wolves I’m talking about are men. They may be hairy, big, and sometimes they may howl, or they may even be cute, but that’s where it ends. These wolves devour pretty young women like you.”

“Oh, I get it,” Jessica and I replied in harmony.

“In the future, am I like the two of you? You know, um…how do I say this nicely? Guess there isn’t a polite way to say it.”

Ezzy paused and took a deep breath. “I’m just going to ask it. In the future, am I an idiot, too? Because if that’s the case, I’m staying right here.”

I gave her the biggest hug I could. “Now there’s the Esmeralda we all know and love! No, you’re not an idiot at all. You’re a smart, successful, sexy, confident woman. And of course, you’re a very capable witch with a wicked sense of humor, and you can be quite sarcastic.”

Jessica was staring at the wall, lost in thought. Suddenly, she jumped and waved her arms over her head. “Yes! I just had a great idea, guys. So check this out. Ezzy, you said you were like a blank canvas and you had to paint your life. Paint! You said ‘paint’. How about that for a homeschooled idiot.”

Ezzy’s hand lightly rested on Jessica’s shoulders. “Jessica, I really didn’t mean it in a bad way when I called you two idiots. I just…”

“No, not that. Don’t you get it? You can find us some paint, Gertie can use her magic to make it enchanted, time traveling paint, just like she made at home. We’ll create a new time travel portal back to the future! That way, we don’t even need to worry about sneaking out and finding the place we fell from.” Jessica crossed her arms and leaned back, her chin tilted up with pride.

I actually hated having to be the one to shoot down her idea. “That’s genius, it really is, Jessica. The thing is…I don’t know the spell. I wasn’t alone when it was created. We need my cat, Darcy. She was the one that performed the spell.”

“Dang it. I was hoping to be the one that figured out a way home.” Her chin dropped and her hands fell to her sides, deflated.

“She went into hiding near the woods where I was found. Either she’s still there or she followed far behind as I was taken away. I half expect her to show up at any moment, actually. So we may end up using your idea if Darcy finds us, but we can’t get back to the portal in the field.”

“Or if the place in the field is a one-way door to here only,” Ezzy noted.

“I hadn’t even thought of that. The paints we used came from an alchemist’s shop. How would we get our hands on some paint like that here?” My heart raced with the realization of being stuck in the past.

“Alchemist’s shop? There is an alchemist here. You mentioned witches and to be a witch in this, or any, kingdom can be very bad. But in any English country village is where you will find wise elders. These people are the healers, the fortune tellers, the matchmakers, and they practice many of the very ancient rituals.”

“Huh! They sound like witches to me.” I was filled with hope. “What about alchemists? Or how about wizards? Got any wizards?”

“I’ll get to the alchemists, but as far as these village elders or wise folk, I suppose they are practicing some of the magic you know. But a witch! No. Witches are known to conjure demons and collude with the devil to preform trickery. I’d advise not going to the villages in search of magic. You’d raise a tremendous amount of suspicion.”

Jessica interjected, “Oh yeah! I’ve seen that in movies. Angry mobs of villagers carrying pitchforks and torches, yelling ‘burn the witch’. Let’s pass. Sorry, Ezzy. Go on and tell us about the alchemists and wizards.”

“The court has encouraged German and French alchemists to come here. They are being persecuted in their own lands because the churches fear they are practicing black magic. But the king believes these alchemists studying their mysterious Grimoires are learning what is natural science and nothing more. In fact, the king has a court astrologer.”

“Grimoires? Those are our spell books! Perfect! What about any powerful wizards? I’m hoping there’s at least one.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’ve heard anyone specifically name a wizard. But this last winter, a stranger appeared at court late one night during the Christmas holidays. He was a traveler. His robes were ancient and ragged, but they were purple, the color of royalty. He had long white hair and a beard to match. Everyone has heard old legends of King Arthur and many people assumed this man was none other than Merlin himself—immortal and still traveling the world.

“He didn’t stay long. It was strange how he quickly examined every single person at court. I had the feeling like he was looking for someone. For some reason, I felt threatened and I hid. He spoke privately with the king, then he left. He was never seen again. The king even sent the guards out to search for him, but they found no trace of him.”

“Sure sounds like a wizard to me. They just love drama,” I said.

“I wonder what he talked to the king about. So mysterious, don’t you think?” Jessica pondered.

Ezzy shrugged her shoulders, unable to find an answer. “The king’s private business. Don’t even consider speaking about it around anyone. In any case, I’ll call the ladies in so you can prepare for tonight. I’ll return here in an hour to accompany you to court.”

His Hotness, California King

I
already missed the old Ezzy. It may be an odd thing to say because the new Ezzy was so polite and friendly compared to the caustic manners of old Ezzy. Still, Ezzy’s friendship had always been true and her self-confidence inspired me.

Jessica and I followed her through the torch lit passage. The new dresses were quite beautiful and not nearly as uncomfortable as I imagined women wore at that time.

Mine was green with gold trim and Jessica’s was blue with white trim. Ezzy’s yellow dress was much fancier than ours, and all I could think about is how she always made anything black look good. My sigh was loud enough to turn her head.

“Is everything all right, Gertie?”

“I just miss the way I’m used to seeing you.”

“I’m sorry. I have to say something. I may just stay here. There’s a man that I adore and I’ve managed to catch his eye. If I can ever get that damned duke and his hands off of me, I might have a chance.”

“Ooh.” Jessica smiled. “Tell us all about this mystery man of yours.”

“He’s King Henry’s guest. A man from a faraway land. So mysterious.”

Her words floated away, ending in a whisper. I saw her eyes twinkle in the dancing torchlight and her face actually seemed to glow.

“Hey, Ezzy.” Jessica snapped her fingers. “You’re spacing out on us.”

“I think she’s daydreaming about the lad,” I remarked.

“They call him the California King. He’s tall, muscular, dark, such a perfect specimen of the male sex. He would make Adonis jealous.”

“But, Ezzy! You can’t stay here. You’re needed in the future. I need you, your friends need you, and the Union needs you,” I protested.

“Gertie, just wait. Once you lay your eyes on that man, you’ll agree he’s worth staying behind for.”

“Odd title, don’t you think? California King?” Jessica asked. “The state of California wasn’t even dreamed of during the time of Henry VIII.”

She was right, but I dismissed any concerns. “Oh, you know Americans. They named most places after other places with the same name. Who knows?”

“Ladies, I don’t care if he’s from the moon. You’ll see. In fact, we better hurry along. King Henry has a new fool.”

Ezzy skipped ahead of us and I recalled our last visit to Salem. She made it very clear that I’d never, ever, see her skipping. Yet there she was, eagerly skipping down the corridor, towards a room filled with the ever growing sound of laughter

“Gertie? Do you think we’re actually King Henry’s new fools?” Jessica asked.

“Hmm. Good question. Makes you wonder what happened to the last one.”

“We’re here!” Ezzy cried, and we joined her in a curtained doorway. “Just stay close to my side.”

King Henry was seated in a large chair, a beautiful young woman sat next to him. The Duke Charles and Lord Tossinoff stood directly behind them, but there was no sign of the mysterious king. “Where’s the California King?”

“I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. The new fool is about to start! Listen!”

Sure enough, a brightly costumed man was cracking jokes. I could only see his back, but his voice was very familiar.

“Thank you, thank you. Good to have you here in my nightmare. Whew, seriously. I haven’t tripped like this in years. Hey, I see some folks here from earlier today! Duke Charles, my man! Wow! New codpiece? Or are you just happy to see me? Jesus Christ, talk about false advertising. Trust me folks, I’ve seen bigger things wiggling on fishing hooks.”

The fool moved closer to the young woman seated next to the king. “Whoa! What’s a nice lady like you doing in a dungeon like this?”

“I’m the king’s wife. The queen,” she said dryly.

The fool counted on his fingers. “Tell me to stop at what number you are.” The room went silent at his awkward attempt at a joke.

“Oh, I know who you are. Look everyone! It’s Queen Anne Boleyn!” The room exploded in applause. “Good to see you here tonight, Annie. Calm yourself, I said tonight, not two knights.”

The fool turned to the king. “Down at the pub, rumor has it she can handle more knights than two at a time.” Queen Anne stood up and walked away. “Hey, Annie! Seriously, Anne, let me give you some advice. If the king asks for some head, run like hell.” The queen stormed through the door.

Jessica tugged my sleeve. “That sounds just like Randy. Is it?”

“I hope not. Whoever it is won’t last long insulting the royals like that.”

The fool was on a roll. “Got a great T-shirt in the castle gift shop. It says ‘Been there, slain that’. You sure are a tough crowd. What’s wrong? Black plague got you down? What do you say we check in with Lord Tossinoff?”

A shadowy figure whispered in Duke Charles’ ear. Charles waved his hand, signaling a troop of guards to take action. They escorted the fool from the room, a troop of musicians quickly taking his place.

“Did you see him? Did you see the California King?” Ezzy asked, nearly bubbling out of her dress.

“Um…kind of hard to see anyone from this angle. He wasn’t the fool, was he?” I asked.

“Of course not. Come with me, there will be dancing. If you’re lucky, one of the gentlemen will dance with you.”

I naturally tried to avoid being swept up in the activity in the center of the room, but Ezzy’s incessant arm pulling brought us right to the dancing guests.

Jessica grabbed my other arm. “Come on, Gertie. It’s been forever since I’ve gone dancing. Let’s get out there.”

That was all I needed. Now, to be honest, I’ve never been to a formal dance, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love twirling and hopping around whenever I hear music. “I love to dance! And I have some really clever moves I learned from a movie called Footloose.”

“Yeah, they’re just walking around in circles, like it’s time to hand out the medications at the psych ward.”

“Then it’s up to us to show ‘em what we’ve got, Jessica!” First, I had to remedy the slow music. With two fingers in my mouth, I sounded the classic pig whistle, and it was so loud the musicians froze. “Is this a snail’s funeral? Jaysus! Pick it up some, lads!”

A man with a fiddle nudged his partners and after a quick meeting, they broke out a livelier tune. It wasn’t exactly an Irish jig, but it was enough to get our feet moving. Jessica must have watched Footloose also because we were able to do most of the dances together.

By the way, the guests moved from the floor, their mouths hung open with awe. I could tell they were really impressed by the way I recreated the movie’s angry solo dance from the warehouse scene.