Advanced Mythology

by Jody Lynn Nye

  “They bought you a car?” Diane exclaimed, as the overhead lights flicked on. Looking like it was there by mistake beside the muddy animal trailer, the tractor and the rusty, vintage harvester was a dark green Chevrolet Suburban. “Holy cow. Look at the size of the thing. I like the color.”

  “I know it’s not really a car,” Marcy said, with a laugh. “It’s a truck. And it’s really almost more a present to them, since I run all the errands they can’t. It’s got heavy shocks for carrying wood, high-traction tires, and a trailer hitch. And it gets awful mileage. I don’t mind. It handles well. It doesn’t feel industrial. They’ve done things to the suspension and the seat to make it comfortable, and it’s not noisy at all. It’s nicer to ride in than my parents’ fancy car.”

  “Nice,” Keith said, flipping up the hood to examine the engine with the avid interest of an amateur mechanic. “I’ve seen these going for thirty, forty thousand dollars.” He stopped, and looked at the others suspiciously. “Where’d you get the money?”

  “Fair and square, Keith Doyle,” Enoch said sourly.

  “eBay,” Marcy explained. “The computer’s only been here for a couple of months, but you know how fast the Folk learn. Once they saw how many different things people were selling, Tiron carved a bust of Candlepat out of beechwood, and we put it up on the web for sale. It sold for nine hundred dollars.”

  “Wow!”

  “It could have gone for more, but we didn’t want to attract too much attention,” Marcy said. “But we bought a digital camera with the proceeds. They made more things, all of them one-of-a-kind carvings, good ones, photographed them and uploaded the images. Those auctions are fierce. You ought to see how fast the price goes up.”

  “I’ll bet,” Keith said, doing calculations in his head. “What about merchandise for the gift shops?”

  “Oh, the bread-and-butter pieces are still being done. Not everyone is good enough to create high-end art, but we …” she paused, blushing.

  Enoch took her hand and squeezed it. “Ye can say ‘we.’ You’re considered one of us now.” He glared at Keith, daring him to contradict the statement. Keith held up his hands.

  “Hey, I’ve already stopped seeing the difference in height.”

  Enoch gave a curt nod. Marcy made a little face and continued, her confidence restored. “We are thinking of making the higher-class art a business.”

  “Well, I hope they don’t stop doing the bread-and-butter,” Keith said. “I need the commissions.” He started to say more, but realized Diane was in the room, and clapped his mouth shut. A surprise wasn’t a surprise if the surprisee heard about it in advance.

  “You’d do better on the commissions from fine art,” Enoch pointed out. “It would be worth your while to visit galleries as our representative.”

  “Why not?” Keith said, thinking of moonlight and blue velvet boxes. “I’ll need a nicer suit.”

  “Have you not seen the television reports from art galleries? They wear nothing but plain black. That shouldn’t be expensive.”

  “Now there you’re wrong,” Diane said positively, getting into the spirit of things. She’d made no secret of the fact she wanted to see Keith start dressing a little more fashionably. “Armani black will set you back several hundred dollars just for a shirt.”

  “Armani black is an expensive color, then,” Enoch said.

  “You have no idea. But if Keith wants to look the part, he’ll have to get some.”

  “I’ll look like a lighted match,” Keith said wryly, tugging at his red hair. “But anything for a sale.”

  * * *

  “So, you two,” Diane said, as they locked up the barn and headed up the hill toward the house, “when’s the wedding?”

  Marcy’s face fell. She came to a halt and clutched Keith’s arm. “Could we wait to go back inside for a moment?”

  “Is there a problem?” Keith asked.

  “Oh, not with them,” Marcy said, gesturing at the lighted windows above. “I just don’t want any of the others to hear. Not this. You’re the only ones who might understand. It’s my parents.”

  “Should I go away?” Holl asked.

  “Should I?” Diane asked. Marcy caught at the other girl’s hand.

  “Oh, no. If you could help …”

  Marcy looked so desperate, Diane dropped the jealousy that had been brewing inside her, and her mother-hen aspect, as Keith called it, manifested itself. She squeezed Marcy’s hand comfortingly. “Whatever I can do. What we both can do. Right?”

  “Right,” Keith said at once. “Dr. Ruth and Dr. Spock at your service. Only Enoch’s got the ears. What’s up with your folks?”

  “Well … they don’t really like the fact that I’m living down here with Enoch. They’ve been after me to introduce them to him, but I’m still nervous about it. I’m trying to find a good way to bring up the subject so they won’t reject us immediately. I tried to tell them the truth before.…”

  “But they weren’t exactly receptive to having an elf as a son-in-law,” Keith finished.

  “No. The subject is especially a sore spot with my mother. Mom already hates the idea that he’s a … woodworker.”

  “She ought to feel lucky,” Keith said at once. “Anyway, Enoch’s not just a woodworker, he’s an artist. Look at that cabinet he made.”

  “She’d be happier if my fiancé was a doctor or a lawyer.”

  Keith scoffed. “Anybody can marry a doctor or a lawyer.”

  “But the biggest question,” Marcy said, dropping her voice to a near whisper, “is how I bring up … his height.”

  Keith and Diane nodded. No one was fooling themselves by pretending that it wouldn’t matter how different Enoch was from Big Folks. The ears and the magic apart, he was the size of a preadolescent boy, with a face to match. It would take particularly special parents to get past that right away, especially if they hadn’t met Enoch under circumstances where they could get to know his personality before they judged him on his appearance. Which they couldn’t, since their daughter had already said she was going to marry him. Keith wondered how his own folks would have taken it if his girlfriend was one of the Little Folk. Marcy looked upset when he grinned.

  “I’m not smiling at you,” he assured her. “I was thinking what it would have been like if our situations had been reversed.”

  “How would you get your parents to come around?” she asked quickly.

  “Oh, well, it’s not really an equivalent situation,” Keith said, giving her a sheepish smile. “I can’t remember a day in my life when I wasn’t talking about legendary beings. In fact, my parents were probably expecting me to come home and tell them I’d married a fairy woman. I hope they weren’t too disappointed when I started dating Diane. Oof!” he said as Diane punched him in the arm. “It’s just as well, though. It’d be a heck of a commute from Fairyland to Chicago.”

  “What can we do to help?” Diane asked, putting a hand over Keith’s mouth.

  Marcy held up her hands helplessly. “What should I do? How can I convince them I’m not kidding? He’s a good man. I really want them to like him. I … I can’t push them.”

  “I,” Keith said, holding up a declamatory finger, “am an expert in the art of push. I offer my services as a go-between. Your folks used to like me. I’ll be happy to go convince them that neither Enoch’s occupation or species, if you want to call it that, are detrimental to your future happiness, but the fact that they won’t give you their blessing would.”

  “In two-dollar words or less,” Diane added.

  Marcy smiled with relief. “That’s exactly what we need.” He’d never stepped over the line with her, and had always given his support to what she really wanted. “You’re a true friend. It won’t be easy. My dad’s even more set against it than my mother.”

  “The difficult we do right away,” Keith said loftily. “The impossible just takes a little longer. Is this what you wanted to ask me about this afternoon?” Keith asked Enoch.

>   The black-haired elf nodded. “I didn’t think you were listening, the way you hare off after every newest idea to come your way. Fair Marcy is grieved over the way her parents resist her intentions.”

  “They think she’s still a child, huh?” Keith asked sympathetically.

  “That’s the long and the short of it,” Enoch said glumly. And, catching the gleam in Keith’s eye, added, “none of your attempts at wit, eh? They’re as sorry as your spell casting.”

  Keith caught at his chest in mock protest. “I was doing fine! That pigeon was a work of art!”

  “Aye, well, it’s good my father isn’t instructing you in that. You’d not have graduated yet.”

  * * *

  When they returned to the farmhouse, Pat was doing a spirited impression of the director of his latest play.

  “No, no, no, no, no!” Pat shouted, pointing at Keith. “You were much more red-headed when you came in before. Do it again, and give me intensity.”

  “So, vhat do you think?” the Master asked. Over the teacher’s head, Marcy gave Keith a frantic look not to mention what they had been talking about.

  “It’s a great present,” Keith said, giving her a calming nod. “You’ll have to let me know how it works out for you. Pretty soon I’m going to have to think about replacing my old car. For the time being, though, it’ll have to last me.”

  “What if something comes out of this Chicago call?” Enoch asked.

  “What Chicago call?” Diane wanted to know.

  Keith explained the conversation he had had with Dorothy.

  “Oh, no,” Diane said unhappily. “So you’re going to be up in Chicago now? When did this happen? We were going to have so much time together this year.”

  “It’s only a potential opportunity,” Maura said placatingly, “not an actual one.”

  “It’s just one meeting,” Keith added. “I get a chance to show off. Maybe I can cadge a lunch out of Dorothy, and I’ll be back before Wednesday morning. Don’t worry! The whole thing will probably go nowhere. I’m just glad they’re still thinking of me at PDQ. That means there might still be a door open for me after graduation.”

  “I hope it will work out for you, Keith Doyle,” Holl said. “Harnessing that hyperactive imagination of yours to work for a living would be good for you.” But Keith could tell Diane didn’t like the idea.

  “And since you will be back among us do you intend to continue in your instruction under my tutelage?” the Elf Master wanted to know.

  Keith was delighted. “Can I? That’d be great. But I thought you said I had graduated.”

  “And you haf. From the first lefel of unifersity education. There are many to go, and many subjects you might study. Hmm? Vould you like to continue?”

  “Yes, I would,” Keith said at once. “You bet.”

  “Gut. Perhaps you vould like to explore the history of the field in vhich you are so interested, eh? Eight to ten pages. In light uf your travel plans, three veeks until it is due.”

  Keith’s face fell. “Homework again already?”

  Marcy came over to break it up between her father-in-law elect and her friend. “Let him enjoy what he’s earned, please, sir.”

  “Uf course, my dear,” the Master said, the suspicion of a smile lifting the corners of his mustache. “I am too eager to teach, it seems.”

  “It sounds as though you’ve filled every moment of the coming year, Keith Doyle,” Orchadia said. “Do you never dream of a time of peace and quiet?”

  “No time for it,” Keith said. “There’s still so much I want to do. For instance, I’d still like to get all the supernatural beings in the world together for a big party—that is, all the ones who can get to it.” He looked hopefully at the Folk.

  “If I ever see any, I’ll tell them you’re looking for them,” Holl said sourly. He and Keith had an ongoing argument about whether the Folk could claim a supernatural origin. Holl felt they were perfectly natural beings; humans were the ones who had lost touch with nature.

  “No, it’d be great,” Keith exclaimed, waving his arms with enthusiasm. “The air sprites already showed me they’ve seen all kinds of creatures. If they come, it would be the most amazing party ever. It’d be a chance for everybody to get to know one another, maybe work out differences, settle ancient feuds. I mean, look at all the legends for which there’s still no really good explanation. People still think you’re legendary.…”

  “And with good luck they always will,” Enoch said, alarmed.

  “… Yeah, but think of all the other beings like you who fall just under the radar. You would have a lot in common with them. Maybe you could work out strategies for dealing with us Big Folk. And maybe they’d figure out that there are some of us who would treat them with respect. Pixies, titans, medusae, mermaids …”

  “You have to find these first,” Holl said, his eyebrow raised skeptically.

  “I will,” Keith said, full of confidence. “Somehow.”

  “Some of these of vhich you speak could not attend because of geography and physiology,” the Master reminded him. “And vhat uf the vuns who are bigger than your kind? Chiants, und others.”

  “Well, then the party will have to be held outside,” Keith said, not missing a beat. “I don’t know what sort of things they eat, but I know from all the books they like good liquor and beer. I can bring in some kegs.”

  Marm cleared his throat. “Well, my brewing is known far and wide as the best around. I’d be most pleased to offer beer for the party, if I can come to it.”

  Keith grasped his friend’s shoulder. “It wouldn’t be a party without you,” he said. “That would be great. Your beer is the best I’ve ever had.”

  “How much will you need, and when will you need it?” Marm asked. “A good brew takes longer than overnight.”

  “I don’t know yet. Lots, I hope. I haven’t had much luck in making contact with other kinds so far. I try when I have time. The air sprites have been giving me these tantalizing glimpses of beings racing over the landscape, but I haven’t caught up with any of them yet. By the way, the sprites send sunrises to Tay and Holl.”

  Tay grinned. “Since I’m unlikely ever to clamber into a balloon again I’ll probably never see them, but I am glad they remember me kindly. Give them greetings from me.”

  “You bet.”

  “And if you succeed in making contact with every being that can walk, crawl, swim, or fly, where do you propose to put them all?” Holl asked. “Your parents’ home, in the midst of the Chicago suburbs? That’d be a subtle get-together, with giants towering over the trees, and salamanders burning holes through the fences.”

  “Well, I was sort of hoping to have the party here,” Keith admitted. The group fell silent. A few of the older elves looked shocked. Keith bit his tongue. Uh-oh, too soon, he thought. He saw his glowing plans die away to ash. But not all the faces were unhappy.

  “That is not an unreasonable request,” the Elf Master said after a moment’s pause.

  “Really?” Keith asked, relieved. “I thought I’d have to do a lot more persuading. It would be okay with you?”

  “Yes, uf course. Don’t be so surprised. You haf done much for us. It is a small thing to ask. Ve vould appreciate a chance to show our gratitude. And ve vould enjoy such a gathering.”

  “Thanks, sir,” Keith said. “Wow. Yeah! I’d better start making a list of what I’ll need.”

  “I can get you cold cuts at cost from Food Services,” Diane said. “Their produce doesn’t hold a candle to yours, though,” she told the Folk.

  “With time enough we can persuade the fields to produce what you need,” Siobhan, Dola’s mother, said.

  The others gathered, clamoring to add their own offerings. “The best cheese you’ve ever tasted, boyo.” “You’ll need a mort of bread and rolls, will you not?” “Candy! What about sweets?”

  “You guys are great,” Keith said, overwhelmed by their generosity. “This is going to be one terrific party.”r />
  “We’d be only too happy to help,” Maura said. “When would you want to hold it?”

  Keith did some mental calculations. “Well, this is August. Say sometime next spring. It’ll give me a chance to fill out the guest list. I’ve got to figure some way to get the word out.”

  “Take care you don’t attract anything unwelcome,” Holl warned, “such as more of your own kind. I don’t think they would enter into the celebration with the spirit you hope for.”

  “I’ll make sure that no Big People even figure out what I’m doing,” Keith assured him.

  ***

  Chapter 5

  The gold pendulum swung wildly back and forth over the map of the central United States. Gradually, it slowed and began to describe a smaller oval. The tall, gaunt woman holding the end of the little pointer’s chain shifted her wrist until the oval spiraled in to an ever-diminishing circle over one spot on the face of the central United States.

  “There, isn’t it as I have told you?” the woman said with a triumphant look. Her dark eyes seemed to have a red fire within them as they focused on the man in the upholstered armchair with his legs propped on the foot of the bed. “It chooses this place.”

  “Bah,” Everette Beach said, rolling his pale eyes up to the stark white paint of the hotel ceiling. He had short, light-brown hair shot with gray. The thin nostrils in his spare face made it look as if he was always recoiling from smelling something bad. “There are six hundred square miles in this area. I expect you to pinpoint exactly where you think this ‘psychic realm’ is located. I want an address, not a general area. We need to find that energy cell.”

  “It does not cry out ‘I am here,’” Maria Katale said surlily. She sat with her back very straight in the pseudo Louis XIV chair. “It beckons. It hints. You did not tell me that United States is so big. The power broadcasts its influence over a larger area.”

  The stocky, dark-haired man beside her cleared his throat. “In our country, the area she shows you would be much smaller. At least she gives you where to seek.”

  “I can’t help it if your education didn’t include geography lessons,” Beach said. “I had the impression that your original target was farther south than Chicago. Now your circle stretches all the way from Milwaukee to Springfield. I’m not impressed. I don’t want to go back and tell them you brought us here so you could do some shopping.”