Lesley Livingston
Wondrous Strange
A Novel
For my Dad
Contents
Samhain
I
“What do you mean, ‘promoted’?” Kelley Winslow felt her pulse…
II
Sonny Flannery opened the French doors and stepped out onto…
III
Kelley looked around the clearing, astonished, but the mysterious—and good-looking—guy…
IV
“Sonny!”
V
Exhausted, muddy, and soaked to the skin, Kelley kicked the…
VI
Out of this wood do not desire to go…
VII
“Don’t go in there!” Tyff screeched at Kelley as she…
VIII
The Avalon Grande turned out to be an old church…
IX
Kelley sighed a fairy queen sigh, and her head sank…
X
The boucca had Sonny by the throat.
XI
Kelley showered in the tiny bathroom attached to her dressing…
XII
Light blazed like fireworks exploding in the alleyway.
XIII
Standing before her apartment door, Kelley took a deep breath…
XIV
Sonny dropped painfully to one knee to avoid having his…
XV
The Avalon was on fire, and there was nothing Kelley…
XVI
From outside his immediate sphere of concentration, Sonny saw that…
XVII
Kelley heard the whispered murmurings of a hushed and hurried…
XVIII
“The Wild Hunt?” Camina whispered. “Who would do such a…
XIX
“Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania!”
XX
Sonny walked back to his apartment from the Avalon, head…
XXI
She had to talk to Sonny.
XXII
“Herne was a mortal. A prince in the world of…
XXIII
The fog dispersed and Herne’s ancient world faded into nothingness.
XXIV
That night proved easy by Janus standards.
XXV
Kelley didn’t mind that she still had to help out…
XXVI
“I only need to know two things,” the Fennrys Wolf…
XXVII
There was a knock on the door.
XXVIII
“How could you not have suspected that there was something…
XXIX
“Tyff?” Kelley asked as her roommate deftly pinned her hair…
XXX
Herne wore a deep-green sleeveless tunic that fell in folds…
XXXI
The band played beautiful music.
XXXII
Tyffanwy had gone so far as to tie a little…
XXXIII
“Will you walk with me, lady?” Herne bowed his head…
XXXIV
“Herne!” Sonny shouted above the din. “Where is she?”
XXXV
The notes of the war horn tore at Kelley. She…
XXXVI
Sonny’s boots touched lightly down on the solid ground. They…
Opening Night
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Rehearsals @ Avalon Grande on 52nd
Mon-Thurs- 10:00 AM
Sat- 11:00 AM
Kelley’s Script–
Please Return (This means YOU, Bob!)
UNDERSTUDY
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM~BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
~DRAMATIS PERSONAE~
THE FAIRIES
OBERON- King of Fairies: Oberon quarrels with his Queen, Titania, over the matter of a changeling child in her care, whom the King wishes to make his page and servant.
TITANIA- Queen of Fairies; she is the guardian of a mortal child—a changeling—whom she refuses to surrender to Oberon. This argument between the two fairy monarchs has caused much upheaval in the natural world, causing the seasons to alter.
PUCK- Sometimes called Robin Goodfellow: this mischievous fairy is Oberon’s chief henchman. Puck turns Bottom, a rough-mannered workman of Athens, into a ass-headed monstrosity and—at Oberon’s malicious bidding—slips Titania a love potion, which causes the Queen to fall in love with the temporarily freakish Bottom.
Puck is also responsible for creating chaos amongst the Athenian lovers when he accidentally administers the same love potion to the wrong suitor.
also PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, MUSTARDSEED, and others, fairy attendants on Queen Titania.
THE ATHENIANS
THESEUS- Duke of Athens: betrothed to the mighty Amazon Queen, Hippolyta.
HIPPOLYTA- Queen of the Amazons: betrothed to the mighty war duke, Theseus.
LYSANDER- beloved of Hermia.
HERMIA- Beloved of Lysander.
HELENA- in love with Demetrius.
DEMETRIUS- in love with Hermia: but later falls in love with Helena (thanks to Puck’s meddling).
EGEUS- father of Hermia: wants to force Hermia to wed Demetrius.
PHILOSTRATE- Master of the Revels.
THE “RUDE” MECHANICALS
rough craftsmen of Athens,
in the forest rehearsing the play ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ to present to
Theseus and Hippolyta at their Wedding Revels.
NICK BOTTOM- performing the role of Pyramus in ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’: Bottom is a blithely egotistical fellow, who simply has no idea that his head has been transformed into that of an ass!
also PETER QUINCE, FRANCIS FLUTE, ROBIN STARVELING, TOM SNOUT, SNUG, craftsmen all, who find themselves terrorized in the forest by prankster fairies and an ass-headed monster!
Opening Night Nov 1st!!
KELLEY’S NOTES
Puck– too much glitter Check w/Mindi
Mustardseed– shorten skirt
Demetrius—find sandals
Nick Bottom—Fix ear on Ass Head
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”
SAMHAIN
October 31
Up and down, up and down,
I will lead them up and down.
I am feared in field and town.
Goblin, lead them up and down.
P uck’s tortured words rang in Kelley’s ears as she lifted her head, struggling against the darkness that threatened to descend upon her. She stared in horror as the Central Park Carousel shuddered in the cloud-shattered moonlight. Though no one was there to operate the machinery, the platform lurched into motion and the painted horses began to bob up and down. The gilt and jeweled trappings of saddles and bridles glimmered, winking at Kelley like hundreds of wicked, malevolent eyes.
In the sky above the merry-go-round, amid clouds bruised purple and black by the violent winds, a figure appeared, hovering in the air astride a fiery roan horse. Kelley felt the hot sting of tears on her cheeks as she looked up and met the eyes of the Rider. He stared down at her—cold, pitiless, with no hint of recognition in his beautiful, haunted face.
Beneath him, driven to madness by the presence of the Rider on his back, the Roan Horse screamed defiance. Bucking and rearing, it lashed out with hooves of flame.
The carousel began to turn.
In the distance, Kelley heard the sound of the hunting hounds.
The Rider drew his sword, the blade flaring like a firebrand. Kelley’s breath strangled in her throat as the carousel began to spin faster and faster.
Smoky, glittering figures coalesced out of the air to ride the painted mounts. Bloodthi
rsty and red-eyed, brandishing swords of flame, their joy was a terrible thing to behold. Beneath them the wooden horses transformed, snorting furiously and stamping hooves on the spinning carousel platform.
Then they burst forth. Legs churning, they galloped madly into the night, climbing an unseen path into the heart of the roiling storm.
After centuries spent imprisoned, locked in the chains of uneasy, enchanted sleep, the Wild Hunt was awake.
It was Samhain. Tonight they would ride out. Tonight they would kill. Nothing in the world could stop the Faerie war band—not with the Rider and the Roan Horse at their head….
I am feared in field and town.
Goblin, lead them up and down.
I
“W hat do you mean, ‘promoted’?” Kelley Winslow felt her pulse quicken.
It was the fifth week of rehearsals for the Avalon Grande’s production of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Never mind that the Avalon Players—a third-tier repertory company so far off Broadway it might as well have been in Hoboken—had only hired Kelley as an understudy, which really meant glorified stagehand. It was her first real job as an actress after a disastrous stint in theater school, and, at only seventeen, Kelley had been grateful for the résumé builder. But today, three steps into the theater, Mindi the stage manager had waylaid her.
Kelley was carrying a box of props she’d gone to fetch from the company van parked outside, and she had a pair of fairy wings strapped to her shoulders—the only way she could carry them without crushing the wire frames. “Mindi?” she asked again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, don’t bother taking off the wings, kid.” Mindi took the box of props from her hands. “Our darling Diva deWinter just busted her ankle. She is out of commission, and that means you, little understudy, will be stepping into the lead role of Titania, the fairy queen, for the run of this show.”
Kelley was speechless. She’d dreamed of this—although however many times she’d sat through rehearsals, watching Barbara deWinter overact and undercharm her way through her scenes, she’d never wished anything bad upon her. But Kelley guiltily felt a rising sense of glee. This is it. This is my big break!
“Hey!” Mindi gave her a friendly shove. “Enough daydreaming. We open in ten days and Quentin is—well, to put it mildly, our esteemed director is now freaking out. So I suggest you go slip into a rehearsal skirt and haul your understudy butt onstage so that the Mighty Q can run you through your scenes. Good luck.”
My scenes. My scenes…
Thoughts in a whirl, Kelley almost ran down the actor playing Puck as he swung himself gracefully off the set scaffolding, singing “Am I blue?” Funny, because he was actually green, a pale iridescent shade head to toe—hair, skin, eyes—right down to his leafy tunic. Kelley had been told by one of the other actors that his name was Bob but that he was something of an extreme Method actor and had demanded he be referred to only by his character name while in costume and makeup—on threat of quitting the production otherwise.
Lunatic actors.
Between him and the equally demanding and very English director Quentin St. John Smyth, Kelley was beginning to think she’d fallen in with a real asylumful at the Avalon Grande. She threw open the doors to the wardrobe storage and fumbled with the rack of rehearsal skirts, slipping one over her jeans and buttoning it as best she could with trembling fingers. “‘Fairies, skip hence,’” she muttered aloud. “No—that’s wrong….”
Oh, God—what’s my first line? Kelley thought frantically.
“‘These are the forgeries of jealousy.’ Aw, crap!” She was blanking. “That’s not even the right speech!” Her heart pounded in her chest, and she leaned her head on the door frame.
This is what you’ve wanted your whole life, she told herself sternly. All those years of putting on one-woman shows for the household pets, and all the months of begging Aunt Emma to let her move to Manhattan to try to make a go of it. This is it. Get out there and show them what you’ve got!
Feeling marginally more confident, Kelley took a deep breath and dashed down the hallway and through the backstage area—at the exact moment that “Puck” launched a handful of glitter into the air. Kelley gasped, startled, as the cloud of sparkles settled on her hair, face, and shoulders.
“Oh—thanks a lot, Bob,” Kelley muttered, brushing at the shimmering dust as the eccentric actor laughed wickedly and darted toward the stage-left wings. It was futile—she was coated in glitter. “That’s just super. I look like a disco ball.” At least it matched her vintage My Little Pony Princess glitter T-shirt.
“Is she coming sometime today?” Kelley heard Quentin’s irate tones echo through the theater and felt her nervousness come flooding back as she picked up her skirt and ran toward the stage.
Once there, Kelley discovered that under the lights the fairy dust was shiny to the point of blinding. Distracted, she found herself tripping over both the hem of her skirt and her lines. Her heart began to flutter in her chest as she heard the exaggerated groans and sighs of frustration coming from the darkened rows of seats, where the director sat watching her stumble around like an idiot.
After forty-five minutes they’d progressed only a little over a page into Titania’s first appearance. Kelley had already managed to butcher half her lines, trip over a bench, and step on Oberon’s foot. When she almost toppled off the stage and into the orchestra pit, Quentin called a merciful halt to the proceedings.
“Kelley. Your name is Kelley, isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for her confirmation. “Yes. Well. Tell me…that bit just now…was that from Dante’s Inferno?”
“Uh…no,” Kelley stammered. Her face felt hot.
“Really?”
I’m in for it.
“Are you sure?” he continued. “Because it most certainly wasn’t from this play. And it bloody well sounded like hell.”
“I—”
“You know…as—well, let’s face it, shall we?—as completely incompetent as our former diva may have been in this part”—Quentin sauntered up onto the stage, where he circled Kelley like a shark—“she did still have one tiny advantage over you, luv.”
“She…she did?”
“Of course she did. She knew the bloody lines!”
The entire cast took a step back to avoid the leading edge of Quentin’s immediate blast radius.
“And, while I obviously appreciate all the effort you’ve put into making yourself sparkly…” Kelley shot a glance at Bob, who’d found something particularly fascinating to look at under one of his fingernails. Probably a sparkle. “What kind of crap-arse UN-DER-STUDY doesn’t know the bloody LINES?”
“But I do know them!” she protested. “I mean, I did. A second ago. Backstage…”
The Mighty Q’s sneer grew. “Well, that’s marvelous. Perhaps we’ll just invite the audience into your dressing room in twos and threes, and you can deliver your performance from there.”
“I…” Oh, God, Kelley thought, it’s just like theater school all over again. The blood roared in her ears, and she thought for a moment that she was going to faint. Or maybe barf. Right there in front of the whole cast. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Assuming your delightful predecessor doesn’t miraculously heal, then you have less than two weeks to learn the part. Less than two weeks. This production opens on the first of November come hell or high water. At this point, I’m betting on both.” He turned sharply on his heel and waved one hand in dismissal. “Right. We’re broken for lunch, minions. I can’t see the point of belaboring this any further. Be back here at two for ensemble work. You”—he aimed a pointed glare at Kelley—“look at your damned script.”
The theater cleared out quickly. No one seemed to want to hang around much after that, and certainly not around her. Kelley stumbled blindly to the courtyard and collapsed onto the steps.
“Kelley?”
She turned at the sound of her name, spoken by Gentleman Jack Savage, the actor playing
the fairy king, Oberon, in the show. He was a veteran of the boards—in his early fifties, with a solid presence and a voice that could melt ice or peel paint, depending on how he chose to employ it.
“Hi, Jack,” she said, wiping her eyes in embarrassment.
“Gadzooks, my dear,” he chided her gently. “I know the Mighty Q howls like a banshee, but really, you mustn’t let the old fart get to you.” He sat down beside her on the steps and unscrewed the top of his battered old thermos, pouring himself a cup of coffee. The scent of dark-roast Colombian was comforting.
Kelley gave him a watery smile. “Jack…you know that people—most people—don’t actually use the word gadzooks in everyday conversation anymore, right?”
“I’m on a one-man crusade to bring it back into fashion. Along with odds my bodkins, ’sblood, and, let us not forget, yoicks.” He took a sip of his coffee and patted her knee with fatherly affection. “Everyone has to have a purpose in life, my dear. That is mine—quixotic as it may be.”
“What if I don’t?” Kelley stared fiercely at her sneakers, willing away the prick of tears from behind her eyes. She felt—she knew—she’d just blown her big chance. “Have a purpose, I mean? A destiny.”
“Impossible.”
“Why do you say that?” She looked up at him, desperate for his honest opinion.
Jack raised an elegant gray eyebrow. “I’m the king of Fairyland, my dear,” he said, and winked at her. “All of that pixie dust has given me extremely potent powers of observation.”
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