As Fate Would Have It

"Why didn't Ector go with him?"

"He swore he would never leave Rain's grave behind. He said it would feel like he was abandoning her."

"That does sound like him indeed."

The hag leaned even closer while her eyes darted around the candle-lit room. "There's something else," she hissed. "Ector would not go through all this if he did not know Roil is up to something big. Really big. Close down The Great Ector's Faire? Never in a million years I thought that could ever happen. The Preux and Nefarious families have been at each other for centuries, but now perhaps the final end is beginning at last."

"The beginning of the end?"

The old hag studied the younger woman's face, then closed her eyes and sighed wearily.

"Yes, hopefully, the beginning of the end."

Outside, the night had been so still it allowed Peach to hear everything that was said between her mother and the old, wretched-looking woman. Her mother had told her they were related to her in some way, but just the sight of her made her sick. Peach knew exactly who Ector Preux was. He was the mean, old man who turned her away when she tried out for his stupid Renaissance Faire. She also knew who Roil Nefarious was, or at least heard about him. He was taught in government classes. "Elected Advisor to the King by the Royal Courts the past twenty-two terms," she recited to herself. She was an excellent student in school, especially in government. Why should her intelligence go to waste on the humdrum dreams her mother had planned for her as a performer? Even Ector could see she was no good, although she put none of her heart in her dismal tryout. It would not be hard at all to get to Roil Nefarious. He had guards posted everywhere and all she had to do is walk up to anyone of them and say, "I know where Roil Nefarious can find Ector Preux." Very few people knew Ector's real last name. Just his close family mainly.

Peach watched her mother and the old woman knitting together. She felt like they could probably care less where she was. Down three blocks was a busy restaurant with two guards posted out front. She started out walking very quickly, but as she got closer she slowed down, eventually almost stopping completely, yet she got there just the same.

The Talk

"I'm not sure if we'll ever see Ector again after all this."

"What do you think he could have done to make Roil close down the faire?"

"Not sure at all, but it must have been major. That Ector is something else I tell you. Roil will most likely never find him."

"Yes, he's the type wants something bad enough, he's going to get it."

"Could probably force himself through the eye of a needle if he needed to."

"The man has got to be ninety at least, how does he stay so young?"

"I suspect his gift of magic must have something to do with it."

"You knew him for a time. Where do you think he could have gone off to?"

The ancient hag leans her creaking spine forward, and motions with her withered hand, fingers like melted candles, for the other woman to come closer. And even though her voice is hardly above a whisper, the fourteen year-old girl listening by the cracked door can still hear what she says.

"He always said if it came to it he'd get to his son before it was too late."

"Egads! You're telling me Ector's son didn't die?"

"Quiet your voice. Peach is somewhere around."

"Sorry, but it's just so hard for me to believe, 'specially after what Roil did to them."

"Ector saved his son because his son knew magic and helped save himself. Rain did not have the gift and Ector could not save her."

"Where did Ector send his son?"

"A small town in, in America...Gasparian it's called."

Picture Frame Missing Glass

"I saved a bunch of pictures last night that I was going to throw out."

"Okay, excellent."

"Well, when I was doing it, I found this absolutely fabulous photo of my mother I would like framed."

"And how big is it?"

"It's actually an 8x10. It's a picture of her at my wedding getting down to some music all alone on the dance floor. Her eyes are squeezed tight, her hands are spread at her sides, her knees are bent, and her butt's sticking out. She looks so happy in it. You see, she finally came out of her shell at my wedding. My father had died two months before and his death really changed her. After my wedding, she was still different, but at least now she was happy, but still very aloof from us, her children. If we asked her anything, a lot of the time she would just smile and then walk away. And the way she smiled...it was like she was looking at us for the first time. I secretly followed her one time out of pure frustration. She walked into the backyard and just peered over the back fence at the droning highway for a long time. It was quite a ways away, but you could still hear the traffic zooming past. It was the President George W. Bush Turnpike in Texas. The cars zoomed on it all day and all night and she just stared and stared and stared. I finally called out to her, and you know what? When she turned to look at me she had that same confounding smile on her face, even though her eyes sparkled when they recognized me. She didn't say anything. She never says anything."

"Sounds like you love your mother very much."

"Yes, I do. And I like this frame very much."

"It's missing the glass."

"What do you mean the glass? What glass?"

"The clear, protective glass that goes over the picture."

"Do I need it?"

"Not necessarily. Just make sure nothing gets on it."

Back Out of the Trash Bag

"This weird guy on the bus just started talking to me out of the blue. He wanted to know if I ever went anywhere just to go. It was strange. He said he was doing just that."

"Sounds like a real nut. He didn't follow you here did he?" She looks around her husband towards the front door.

"He stayed on when I got off. He really got me thinking though you know? My life lacks any type of spontaneity."

"So you want a divorce?"

"I think maybe we should. What do you think?"

"I think you're right. It would probably be for the best."

"Will you ever get married again?"

"I'm not sure. I might."

"Kids? No more kids?"

"Probably not, but never say never, right?"

"I don't want a divorce actually."

"Oh, I'm so glad you said that. Me neither. I wanted to tell you about my day today. I went to that old section of town by all those small shops, you know where the magic shop is and that great, old-fashioned Italian restaurant, and when I was passing by the magic shop, I decided I was going to quit my job and become a volunteer for Al Gore's global warming campaign."

"You did? Wow, I'm speechless."

"Do you mind being the sole breadwinner?"

"No, not at all."

Later that night, she took out and reorganized all the photos she had placed in a large trash bag weeks ago, happy now she waited before throwing them out.

Springtime Lullaby

"It's spring. Why don't you get outside instead of moping around here throwing out old photos?"

"The sunshine hurts my eyes."

"This is college. There are hot girls out there, walking around in shorts, come on!"

(He goes up to his room, then sneaks out later all alone.)

"Does this bus go downtown? Okay."

(Sitting on the bus next to someone.)

"You take the bus a lot?"

"Yes."

"I do too, when I'm going to classes. This is the first time I've gotten on just to get on. You ever done that? You ever get on just to get on?"

(Passenger thinks about it.)

"No."

"Well, I guess I am actually going downtown, but I have no reason for going there either. So I'm also going somewhere just to go too. You ever done that?"

"Yes, actually, I have."

"Really? Where?"

"I don't think it's that uncommon. When I lived in Idaho there was a hiking trail that led to a small waterfall and I used to go there just to go all the time. Why, what's wrong? Why do you feel the need to ask me, a total stranger about this?"

"I'm not sure. I feel this compulsion recently just to talk. It's like someone is recording every word I am saying. And I'm thinking about things I normally never think of."

(The man who lived in Idaho got off the bus and worried about the strange college student the rest of the day.)

Photos in Trash Bags

"So what if I don't write it down? I know that humble storeowner is as proud as he can be about his daughter, so much so, he probably feels like he won the silver medal in pole vaulting."

"Well, you may be right, but why are we talking about this? Did you get me what I needed from the store?"

"You didn't tell me you needed anything!"

"I told you yesterday."

"You did? When?"

"I was looking through a pile of old photos and I said I needed some large trash bags to throw them all out."

"Why are you getting rid of them?"

"I don't know the people in them anymore."

"Don't you want to remember them?"

"Nah, I won't ever see any of them ever again."

"Why not?"

"They all live in other states."

"Don't you want to keep the photos as reminders?"

"They are reminders, of a time that can never be retrieved nor duplicated."

Pole Vaulting

"Listen, I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm going to the store...."

(At the store...)

"Do you want a bag for that?"

"Uh, yes, I do. Who is that?" (A picture of a smiling woman holding flowers and a medal and waving to crowds of people is taped to the register. A caption states that she won the silver medal at the World Championships in pole vaulting...)

"That's the owner's daughter."

"Oh, really? Cool. That's cool."

(In his car on the way back home he thinks to himself, because conversations can happen inside your head too...)

"That's what this little town is like. Magic is constantly happening. Kids grow up and spring out of this little town like arrows and land where they may. Some bring honor and awe to their humble roots. This is the town where so and so came from. Everyone is from somewhere."

(He repeated this phrase over and over to himself until he got home...)

"So, are you trying to say the entertained can never be the entertainers? Because I just went to the store and saw stuff and thought about stuff to the point where if I wrote it down I'll be a famous writer probably."

"Yeah, problem is, you'll never write it down..."