by Al K. Line
This woman glanced at the broken bag and the spilled contents and her cheeks blushed. "Yeah, and I got stung for five pence for the bag. Bloody ripoff."
"Right, it is, isn't it?" I said, both of us somehow getting to our feet while still holding hands and staring deep into each other's eyes. "I mean, it's a good idea to have a reusable, but they shouldn't charge you if you happen to forget. You do recycle, don't you?"
What was wrong with me?
"I, er, yes, of course."
"Me too," I said lamely.
"Er, that's good."
"Yeah."
"I have dinner with my daughter every evening at seven if I can possibly manage it. It's a tradition, a thing we have so we get to spend time with each other." Good God, I must have gone insane.
"Oh, that's nice. No children."
"What about no children?"
"I, er, I don't have any."
"Would you like to?" Take me now, Lord, or even the Devil, I'm not fussed.
"I would. But I can't."
"Oh, I'm sorry. But you do eat, right?" That was a lame question, even by my standards.
The woman glanced at the food on the ground to answer my question, and then we both bent to pick it up at the same time.
We smashed our heads together.
And then, oh no, talk about sealing the deal, we laughed as we bent again and retrieved her shopping.
She had the broken bag and the drink, I had the lasagna.
I don't know what I was thinking, certainly not how I had the nerve, the presumption. My body had betrayed me, my heart was already hers, and I couldn't stop myself. I walked boldly to the nearest bin and threw her lasagna in.
"Hey, you can't do that," she protested.
"I told you, I can cook. Not every day, but sometimes. And I'm not bothered about having children, not any more. I have a teenage daughter and I'm enough trouble for her as it is."
"You don't say?" She raised an eyebrow. I wanted to lick it. Is that weird? It is, isn't it?
Somehow, we were back close to each other, holding hands again, studying each other. She could have had the legs of a rhino, or no legs at all, the notice I'd taken. And it wouldn't have mattered. I was lost in her face, her warm hands. Where was her low-cal drink? I glanced down to find she'd dropped it and it was fizzing as it emptied its contents. We didn't care.
"I'm Arthur."
"I'm Penelope."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Maybe."
"Do you like Buster Keaton?"
Penelope's face lit up. "I love him."
I groaned.
This was it. Game over for The Hat. She was perfect, and I was done for.
"Oh my God, you're so normal."
"Gee, thanks."
Goddamn, she even looked sexy when she pouted and was cross. I was history. There was still a chance though, still a way to get out of this.
"Please, please tell me you have a weird-ass job. For the love of God, don't tell me you work in a shop or something."
"How did you know?" asked Penelope, her cheeks reddening as if her job was something to be embarrassed about. "It's not much, and I really should try to better myself, but I like the freedom. I change jobs every few years when I get bored and my bosses don't seem to like the fact I don't constantly bang on about how awesome it is to work in retail. Not good for the resume. I work in a local place. We sell—"
"Nope. I can't stand it. If you tell me you sell something boring like slippers then this is it."
"It, what?" she asked, her eyes twinkling, probably amused by the madman she'd just met.
"It. You know. It."
"You are a very peculiar man."
"Am not. You are."
She frowned at my words for what felt like an eternity, then we were both laughing again. She had a perfect laugh. It was normal. Just nice.
"Promise you won't laugh if I tell you where I work?"
"Nope."
"I work in Tea Toweled."
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Then opened it and left my jaw slack.
"Actually, it's pretty cool," she said defensively, getting annoyed. "You may be surprised to know that there's a lot to tea towels. And we sell other stuff too. Loads of interesting items for the kitchen."
"I go there every week," I blurted. "It's my favorite shop. Haven't seen you there."
"I only started last week. Got lucky. I think it's my dream job. I love tea towels."
"Me too."
"Don't make fun of me."
"I'm not. I'll show you my tea towel collection any time you want." Of all the lines, of all the ways to talk to a woman, that had to be the worst one used in the history of idiot man.
"Bet you say that to all the girls," said Penelope, doing this peculiar wobble with her head, like it would help her understand the fool before her.
"Trust me, I don't. I love my kitchen though, love Tea Toweled. I've spent a fortune in there."
"So, that's me. What about you?"
Ah, this was where it would get rather awkward if I wasn't actually doing my best to find fault with this woman and an excuse to run away very fast.
"I'm a wizard."
When she stopped laughing, she said, "Fine, you don't want to tell me. Anyway, nice meeting you. I think." She stared at me quizzically, trying to suss me out, then shrugged and went to move off.
"Wait!" I shouted, kicking myself for not just letting her go and changing tea towel supplier.
"You can't go now. I have to make you dinner. And besides, I'm going to marry you."
"Are you now?" she said, her smile changing as she realized I was serious.
"Yes," I said glumly. "But I warn you, my last relationship did not end well."
"I wonder why?"
"You don't know the half of it."
Revelation After Revelation
I was amazed she'd agreed to get in the car with me. I think she was even more surprised. After all, one thing everyone knows is that you don't let strangers who throw away your crap lasagna, then tell you they're a wizard, and that they're going to marry you, drive you off somewhere. That's how you get murdered in nasty ways, or locked in a basement for years.
"Do you think saying those things is making me feel at ease?" asked Penelope.
"Damn, did I say all that out loud?"
Penelope looked at me strangely, which had already become a habit I was getting used to. "Yes, you did. And now I'm considering jumping out of a moving vehicle so I don't become a sex slave."
"Hmm, sex slave." I pondered the possibilities then came out of my reverie as Penelope screamed. I swerved to avoid a car coming from a side street then smiled an apology.
"Don't worry, I'm an expert at crashing. I sometimes fall asleep after a busy day and Vicky is always telling me off about it."
"Vicky? And you weren't really considering keeping me as a sex slave, were you? And you crash a lot? Things just keep getting better." Penelope was smiling, but there was obvious concern. She'd be wondering what the hell she'd got herself into, and unsure why on earth she'd let it go this far. There was something between us, we both knew it, and we couldn't stop it if we wanted to.
I felt awful. I knew, on this fateful day, that my life would never, could never, be the same again. It was the same feeling I got when George stood at my door and told me she was my daughter. Elation mixed with abject terror.
"Don't worry, Vicky's just my sidekick. Oh, we did have a thing, once, but it was weird, so no worries there," I blurted.
"Gee, thanks for sharing."
"And no, I won't keep you as a sex slave. Not unless you want me to?" I asked with a wink.
"Let me think about that amazing offer. Would there be handcuffs?"
"Of course. Everyone knows all slave masters have handcuffs. Whips are optional, handcuffs are de rigueur."
"Good, because I don't want to feel short-changed."
I was feeling warm, and my heart was beating fast, so I thought it best
to change the subject. "You live locally?"
"Sure do. And you? Do you live close?"
"Ah, in a manner of speaking. Just wait and see." I fidgeted with my pocket, felt the hard wood stir, but knew it was a little premature for such mighty introductions.
Several minutes later we pulled up a short walk away from my city home and I turned off the engine.
"This is me. Sort of. Just around the corner. Look, um, I don't know how to explain this without sounding like a complete nutter, but I get the feeling I have to be utterly honest with you. Will you keep an open mind? What I'm about to show you has never been seen by another citizen. It's private. It's scary too, but you'll be safe with me. Trust me?"
"Arthur, you are the oddest man I have ever met. You're scaring me, yet I trust you. This is crazy." Penelope shook her head, her beautiful, ordinary head, and seemed to come to a decision. "I think you should take me home. Nobody knows where I am, who I'm with, and you are too peculiar, even for me."
"Please, give me a chance. This is just as weird for me, even more so once you see what I'm risking by taking you inside."
"And that kind of talk is what's scaring me. What's with all the secrets and mystery? Who are you?"
"I told you, I'm a wizard. I won't lie to you, you can ask me anything you want. Anything at all. After all, if you're going to marry me, you should know what kind of man I am. I'm not a good person, Penelope, even though I sometimes try to be. I already know I don't deserve you, and you sure as hell don't deserve the life you'll have with me. I'm dangerous, I get into trouble constantly, I have idiots for friends, a daughter who terrifies me because she is so beautiful and will be so strong one day, and you will put your life at risk many times by being with me. But this will happen, so please, trust me?"
"Well, when you put it like that, what choice do I have?"
We nodded to each other then got out of the car. Penelope was bemused beyond belief by her own actions. I mean, who did this kind of thing? Got picked up by strangers and went straight to their house after they told you they were basically insane?
"So, a wizard, eh?" she asked. "What, you do children's parties, entertain kids at bar mitzvahs?"
"Something like that, yeah," I mumbled, the words difficult, as if I was incapable of lying to this woman. "Come on, let's get inside." Penelope followed me down the street while I surreptitiously checked we weren't being followed, until we reached the front door. I unlocked it, went inside, then held the door.
Penelope glanced back to the street, shrugged her shoulders, and said, "Here goes nothing."
She didn't know the half of it.
One Small Step...
"It's... er... Nice. Comfortable."
"Haha, don't worry, this isn't where I live. It's just to house the Gates."
"I knew it! You're some kind of weirdo collector. You've got a whole house just to store your gate collection. That's it, I'm outta here."
"Wait, wait! Please?"
Penelope turned back to me, took her hand off the door, and said, "Gotcha." She smiled, and it was so beautiful. She was so funny. I adored her.
"You sure did."
"Arthur, what's the matter?" Penelope put a hand to my shoulder. "You're crying."
"Only because you're so beautiful. Funny too."
"Arthur, you are one very strange person, but thank you for the compliment."
"The Hat, they call me The Hat," I mumbled, then wiped my eyes.
"Who does?"
"Everyone. People in my world."
"Other entertainers?"
"I'm not an entertainer. It's difficult to explain to citizens, but you'll see."
"What's all this citizen stuff?"
"You know, regular folks. Normal people. Citizens."
"I don't know whether to be insulted or not."
"Don't be, it's a compliment. Please, come into the living room, sit, let me explain before your entire existence gets turned upside down. Once you come into my world, there is no turning back, and I need you to be sure. I don't want to scare you, but I must warn you. Once you come with me, you will never be the same again. You will look at the world with different eyes, will see things so differently, and your life will always be in danger."
"Sounds intriguing." Penelope's eyes sparkled in that way I was sure they always did when she was amused or excited. I could stare at them forever.
We sat on the sofa and I tried not to sniff so she'd notice. So, straight away, and I know I had a goofy look on my face, she asked, "Why are you snorting like that?"
"You smell lovely."
"Weirdo."
"Maybe."
"So?"
"So, here's the deal. Damn, I can't believe this is happening. I feel like I'm in a nightmare."
"Charming."
"Oh, it's not you. Actually, it is. You are amazing, and I don't know you. But I want to. I'm going to tell you things you won't believe, that you can't until you've experienced them. First, let me tell you a story about what I've been up to since last night. Don't interrupt, just listen, okay? Think of it as a story. Picture me as this hero. The scrawny, but handsome, hero."
"How else could I picture you?" Again with the smile and the sparkling eyes.
"First, Vicky and I went to a nightclub, and I hated it. Not my style at all."
"Nor mine. Ugh, all those sweaty bodies."
"Exactly. Anyway, we were there to meet a witch who had hacked into our bank accounts and stolen our money. Except she hadn't, but she kind of had. I'll get to that later. Well, things went wrong, and I ended up tied to a chair in an attic, and by morning... Er, you probably won't like this bit. I think I better give you more detail."
So for the next hour I told her everything that had happened, and more besides. She stopped interrupting after a while and just listened, open-mouthed, to my tale. I'd never opened up like this before, certainly never to a citizen. Let alone one I'd just met.
"And then I got out of the car, bumped into you, threw away your lasagna, and fell in love."
"That's quite a story."
"I know, and I'm knackered."
"Arthur, don't tease me. You're nice, and there's certainly something happening here, but I can't stay if you're going to play games."
I stood and began to strip.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm showing you." I lifted my shirt, pulled my combats down, and a voice from the pocket said, "Now we're getting somewhere."
"Quiet you, now isn't the time for your jokes."
"I didn't say a word," said Penelope.
"Sorry, I was talking to Wand. Um, I haven't told you about him, have I?"
"You talk to your wand? Ugh, what am I saying? You actually have a wand?"
"Yeah, when I have to. And of course I have one. Why wouldn't I?" I continued to strip and Penelope stared at my ravaged body. "Believe me now?"
"Oh my God, how are you still standing?"
"Because I am a man of steel, a wizard, and I'm stubborn."
"Look at your finger!"
"Gross, huh?" I waggled the pink nub and it retreated, like a turtle back inside its shell.
"What the hell?"
"Told you I was a man of magic." I grinned despite the pain.
"You poor thing. How did this happen?"
"Damn, I knew you didn't believe me. Okay, guess I'll have to show you." I dressed, then held out my hand. Penelope stood and took it carefully, noting for the first time what a mess of lumps and grazes it was. The finger seemed to grow at her touch.
"If I told you that I had one of a pair of magical gates in my kitchen, and when we stepped through them we would be transported to a barn in Cornwall, would you believe me?"
"No."
"But if I asked you to come with me, to have dinner with me and my family, in my true home, where there will be kids running around, my daughter, Vicky, and maybe a faery, would you come?"
"Um, that's rather intense for a first date, but I guess. At least I'd be safer."
<
br /> "Great! Listen, what I said earlier, about your life changing, I meant it. About being with me being dangerous, I meant that too. That you might die, it's true. I know you don't trust me, but let me show you the Gates first. We'll go through, and then you can think about what I said."
"Arthur, I work in a shop, I live in a crappy little house, I keep doing the same thing every day. You're the most interesting thing that has happened to me in a very long time, actually, ever, and I think you are utterly deranged, but if what you're saying is true, then I'm in."
"Good. Great!" I led Penelope into the hall, walked her into the kitchen, and toward the arched doorway that looked like it merely led out onto the garden.
"I don't know why, but I'm scared."
"You should be. You're about to be ripped into a billion tiny pieces then reassembled through the power of magic hundreds of miles away. But don't worry, it's only excruciating for a moment."
"I appreciate the pep talk."
"You're welcome."
I don't know what possessed me, but I couldn't stop myself, and as we stepped forward I kissed Penelope right on the lips. As we kissed, we were disassembled, the pain not even felt as I was so lost in the warmth and wetness of her lips. It felt so right, so perfect, that I didn't even notice when we were in the backroom of the barn.
We were still kissing, both of us lost to this special first time, but then Penelope gasped, which felt weird as she still had her tongue in my mouth, sprang back, and said, "Where the fuck did the kitchen go?"
"Told you, I'm a wizard."
Getting to Know You
"Yeah, but... but... Ugh, I thought you were trying to be funny or something. You know, impress me?"
"I wouldn't know how to impress someone. Um, the last woman I was with, it didn't end well. I killed her, remember."
"You said."
"But you came with me."
"I thought you were being metaphorical. You got her out of your life. It's how people talk now, how the kids talk. 'I killed him,' the girls say when they break up with their boyfriend."
"Ah."
"You're serious?"
Damn, maybe it was too soon for such stories. Definitely, but I was in this now, had to be honest. "I am."
