Chapter 4
Roving through the dead of night a detailed van with heavily tinted windows passed in front of Walter Marvin’s home. With ‘Toxoplasma’ Allesfresser pouring out of the side door a gaunt young man in a grey hoody leaped out. Sliding a pair of sunglasses onto his face, he slipped quietly into the house.

Speaking with a slight Bavarian accent, the youth stepped into Walter Marvin’s kitchen. “Christ Jabol, turn off them fooken lights.”

With the hoody flipped back, the light revealed a grey stone skin youth with black runic tattoos adorning his face. Looking closer his image might be that of a very ugly unkempt youth sporting a blue Mohawk, but ancient eyes peered out from behind of those sunglasses.

“Manfred you are hardly going to turn to stone from Halogens.” A tall thin impossibly beautiful impeccably dressed Filipino man didn’t even look up as he carefully placed raw meat into a rich looking marinade. “You would think with all of his power Eá²ghan could afford something more luxurious than this hovel.”

“Yea, well you tell him that. I’m sure he would be very sympatric.”

Jabol gave the grey skin youth a dashing smile. “Oh no my friend, today I will not even grace him with my presence. He is shall we say very put out at the moment.”

“Did Sile do something stupid again?” Manfred had noticed the white hair girl curled up in a fetal position on one of the living room couches.

“No, she has been quite docile. It’s the other lovely young lady that has been giving him a fit. I do not know the reason, nor do I wish to inquire.”

“Good for her serves the old prig right.” Reaching for a piece of raw meat Manfred stuffed it into his mouth. “What’s this?”

“It’s kid.”

The grey man looked suddenly excited.

Jabol shook his head in disgust. “It’s goat.”

Manfred made a face. “Rather eat the real thing.”

+++++

As expected my invisible musical friends returned a few days later. Old Celtic music filled my room, and I think they even snuck in a Clannad and Mary Fahl song in there as well. As it grew late, I asked them kindly if they could keep it down as I needed to get to sleep. Surprisingly an Irish Lullaby began to play. I smiled and slipped into bed. In no time at all I was asleep.

I wish I could say that nothing else occurred in those few days before my picnic with Abigail but I would be lying. After the visitation from my sugar elf, I didn’t have to worry about cleaning the house. Rebecca, of course, was pleased. She said I would make a good wife. I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I left it alone. I hope the bowl of milk I have been leaving out each night was appreciated.

Of course, I continued to be plagued with finding myself raiding my sister’s wardrobe. Waking one morning wearing one of my sister’s nightshirts was disturbing. It kind of felt nice which was equally distressing. Mirrors are also something I am beginning to avoid.

There is an ancient belief that mirrors reflect a portion of one spirit. Remember how in the old movies the native guide never wants his picture taken least his spirit be captured. Standing directly in front my mirror I see my usual reflection. However, I see something else out the corner of my eye. Frankly, I think it is time to recalibrate the old Weird-O-Meter.

Now the ultimate question is why someone would bother to cast an enchantment on someone like myself. Most members of the Fairy realm would do it for a good laugh but why me. I needed to research the problem. Of course, finding good books on real magic in this day and age was going to be a bit problematic. It’s not like I could enter ‘Read Along’ and ask Diana for a magical tome.

The Library seemed to be my best option. Well, I did take a look on the internet plenty of information most of it bad. Mrs. Jacobson, the town’s librarian, didn’t even blink an eye when I asked her about books on magic.

She was your typical librarian, conservatively dressed in dark blue with her greying hair formed into a tight bun. I would often find myself doing odd jobs around the library which she would always reward with hot chocolate and homemade confections.

Mrs. Jacobson also knew the library like the back of her hand, and it took no time for her to place a small stack of books on magic in front of me. Unfortunately, all but two were of little interest. The two were a good start.

The first was called “Magicus Artificium” a reproduction of the original written by Ortho Septimus a first century BCE Roman scholar. It covered mostly magical theory but looked to be an interesting read. The second book “Medicamentum” was also written by Otho Septimus. It contained information on magical herbs and potion making.

After reading through the “Magicus Artificium” for most of the morning, I checked both books out and went home for lunch. As I set them down on the kitchen table, a chill went right down my spine. I realized that the books I had been reading all morning were written in ancient Latin.

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Deputy Sheriff Dan Summers contemplated hitting his head on his patrol car’s steering wheel out of frustration. Growing up in Ravencrest and graduating from the University he thought when he finally headed out on his own he would live a normal life. When a letter came offering a job as a Deputy Sherriff in the town of Skogshaven he jumped at the chance.

His new boss Sheriff Jakob Dahl immediately assigned him as the special investigator for all ‘unusual’ cases. Moments later his cousin Diana strolled through the door. The whole job offer was, of course, a setup. Now Diana sat in his patrol car. At least she could have the decency not to eat his lunch.

“Dan I’m not telling you not to do your job. I’m telling you not to harass Morgan.”

He reached over and grabbed his milkshake out of her hand. When Diana used to visit over the summer holidays, she would always eat food off his plate. She said it tasted better.

“I’m not harassing her. She has been involved with a few things recently.”

Diana reached over and grabbed a handful of french fries. “She stopped those attacks earlier in the week.”

“Yes, and she rescued a child from the park a couple of days ago.”

Diana smiled and popped a french fry in her mouth. Seeing her smile, Dan started to bang his head on the steering wheel.

“Do you know how infuriating all of you are?”

She reached over and encompassed the Deputy in a hug. Kissing him on the head, she whispered. “Do you really want to know?”

Deputy Summers leaned back and handed her his milkshake. “Diana I’m just trying to do my job. It’s bad enough that I have to answer to the Coven as well as my boss.”

++++++

Part of my evening was spent preparing for the next day’s picnic. I had already discussed with Abigail the menu for tomorrow’s lunch. She kept insisting that PBJ would be fine, but I was having none of that.

Our lunch would start with crescent roll sandwiches filled with a number of different items including crá¨me cheese and vegetables, homemade pimento cheese, tuna fish made with chopped scallions and Niçoise olives plus one standard peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread. With my homemade cheese crisps and several bottles of water added to the basket, I top it all off with a container filled with my secret dessert.

Hours later sitting under ‘Father Oak’ I watched with amusement as Abigail gobbled down a second of my ‘Death by Chocolate’ brownies. I could not help but enjoy her almost orgasmic reaction to my cooking.

We had decimated the entire contents of the picnic basket leaving no survivors. The only thing that attempted to escape was the PBJ, but even that ended up in the hands of a very grateful mother and a starving six your old child.

“Oh my god Morgan, these brownies are sinful. Where did you learn how to cook?”

“Well you know Rebecca doesn’t come home until late and pizza every night is a bit monotonous, so I really didn’t really have much choice. What’s interesting is that I found it’s something I like to do.”

Leaning against one another we sat in silence enjoying the warmth of the day and each other’s company. I thought for a moment that Abigail had fallen asleep when she pointed to a couple of books that sat on top of my picnic basket.

One book covered the latest advances in Dendrology. The second was a reproduction of a medieval Latin text on Herbology. Abigail brushed her hands on the blanket and picked up the second book.

“I think my Aunt owns this one.” Opening the book Abigail made a face she was apparently not a Latin scholar.

Before she could ask how I can read Latin, I gently closed the book and smiled. “Want to go for a walk?”
With a grin, Abigail popped the remains of another brownie into her mouth. “What about the books and the picnic basket.”

“I’ll see if Mrs. Jacobson will keep an eye on them.”

With a warning to be careful, Abigail and I set out towards the park. When she realized our destination was not one of the walking trails, she stopped.

“Morgan I can’t go in there.”

“Of course you can.”

Abigail shook her head taking a few steps back. “It’s not permitted.”

“Why you’re even wearing the proper shoes.”

“Morgan!”

I sighed and enclosed my hand in hers. Looking straight into her pretty blue eyes I whispered, “I give you permission Abigail. No harm will befall you as long as you are in my presence.” I do not know to understand why I was able to give her permission but I knew it to be true. With that assurance, we entered the forest holding hands.

I could feel her nervousness slowly be replaced with wonder. “It’s beautiful Morgan.”

“You haven’t been in a forest before Abigail?”

“Morgan of course I have, but this place is special.”

I couldn’t agree more.

As we walked Abigail gave me a running commentary on some of the plant life we passed. I smiled. I knew there was a reason why I liked her. While moving through the forest, she slowly slipped her arm around my waist.

Her gentle touch seemed to exorcise all of the troubled thoughts that have been plaguing me these last few weeks. Coming across a clearing, we took a break. Even with her ‘proper shoes’ the uneven ground was beginning to hurt Abigail’s feet.

“What’s this symbol mean Morgan?” Abigail pointed to an old stump. Carved on the stump was a runic symbol of three crosses in the shape of a triangle.

“It’s for protection child.” An old woman with a gentle face entered the clearing. Dressed in greens and reds her clothes were like many of the older residents of Skogshaven whose relatives came over from Scandinavia. For some time I had felt a presence watching us, but I knew we were in no danger.

Abigail quickly rose from the ground and brushed herself off. “Oh hello, my name is Abigail, and this is Morgan.”

“I am Sabina.” She gave Abigail a warm smile and nodded to me almost coming down into a curtsy. No, I haven’t figured out what all of the curtsyings is about. I really don’t want to know.

Sabina began to explain that the original settlers when they cleared the forest would give offerings and in specific areas would mark the stumps. The runes would offer protection to the inhabitants.

“Protection from what?” I knew I wouldn’t like the answer.

Sabina smiled sadly. “From the Wild Hunt.”

A sense of dread filled me. As Sabina and Abigail continued to discuss old runes and other topics they were pleased to discover that Sabina knew Abigail’s grandmother.

“Morgan.” I looked up realizing that Abigail had been trying to get my attention for the last few seconds.

“Sorry, just zoning.”

Abigail gave Sabina one of her special smiles. “I’m sorry, it’s getting late. I don’t want my Aunt to worry.”

“It has been a pleasure to meet you, Abigail.” The old woman reached over and kissed her on both cheeks. “I am pleased to see that not everyone has forgotten the old way. Perhaps we shall meet again.”

With one last farewell, the old woman disappeared into the woods. Abigail stood there dumbfounded. Welcome to my world. With just a hint of fear in her voice, she asked. "Morgan, can we go home?”

For the rest of the walk back Abigail held me close as if she feared I might disappear. I felt her relief as we stepped out of the woods. Passing ‘Father Oak’ on the way to the library parking lot Abigail reached up, pressed her body to mine and kissed me full on the lips. Both of our lips were a little chapped, but the kiss was wonderful. Definitely, something I could get used to.

She jumped back giggling. “That was to thank you for taking me into the forest.” She leaned forward once more our bodies close together, but something had changed. Confusion and strong emotion washed over me as Abigail stumbled back her hands on her mouth.

“You’re a boy.”

I look at her confused. “I have always been a boy.”

Tears began to form in her eyes. She continued to back away. “My Aunt said you would do something like this. I thought you were different. Has this all been some sort of prank? Did someone put you up to this?”In a fierce whisper full of heartbreaking sorrow she cried. “It always ends like this when I get close to someone. They all hate me.”

“Abigail I don’t understand.” I tried to move towards her. We had been talking to one another for almost two weeks. She had even introduced me to others on the street. How could she not know I was a boy?

“Don’t touch me.” She cried, tears pouring from her eyes. Her emotions hammered away at me. “Did you think it was funny?” With a mournful wail, she ran toward the parking lot screaming at me not to follow her.

Sorrow overwhelmed me. When the heavens opened up, I couldn’t move. The weight of the last few years finally collapsed on me physically pushing me to the ground. My adoption, the divorce, my family issues all of it. Everything I had been trying to hide from began to overwhelm me. I couldn’t breathe. Now I have lost my only real friend. On my knees, with the rain falling down around me I placed my hands over my face. All I could do was weep.

++++++

Not far from the Library stood a small Medical Office Building. From specialists to dentists it’s one of the few places in town where people can get non-emergency medical care. Although not on Main Street it’s conveniently placed overlooking the Library and the park. Late in the day on a Saturday the parking lot sat empty except for a black SUV.

“Look, they’re coming out of the woods now.” The creature known as Dunter raised a set of Steiner Rangefinder Binoculars to his face. “So Sile is that her?”

“I’m not sure.” The white-haired woman sat in the back of the SUV away from the sun. Covered in a green hoody she had it pulled down over her face.

“Sile.” A cultured Filipino voice gently spoke. “Your assistance would be most appreciated.” Taking the binoculars from Dunter, Jabol leaned forward to get a better view of what everyone was so excited about.

“Enough of this.” Dunter reached over dragged the woman over the seat, took the binoculars from Jabols hands and painfully smashed them into Sile’s face. “Now look or ill rip those eyes from your skull.”

“Yes, no…I don’t know it looks like her.” Sile mumble.

Disgusted Dunter threw her into the back seat. “Useless Bitch.”

“Oh, it looks like they are having a little argument,” Jabol said with no sympathy in his voice.

When it began to rain in an otherwise clear day, Dunter growled with pleasure. Reaching for the keys the red-hatted creature started the SUV.

“Bitch, I got you now!”