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The Unpleasant
THE UNPLEASANT
Morning
sunlight streamed across the dew-covered tree-tops and the flower-scented
gardens of the “Home De’Hall” as Lord Richard De’Hall gazed with deep concern
across the lands surrounding his castle.
Richard
was a tall man with salt and pepper hair, beard and mustache and a portly
physique brought on by his love of good food, drink and leisurely lifestyle.
Known to his friends and the people in his lands as a kindly man, he had an
agreeable, open face and a mouth more suited to smiles than the frown that now
marred his expression.
Richard was troubled by talk coming from
outside the borders of his lands, rumors that spoke of something coming;
something unpleasant.
“What
if it was invaders from an evil kingdom?
What if highwaymen had decided to waylay his Lady wife on her way to the
market? Richard knew he must protect his people, lands and wife!”
Of course, Richard, being the kindly man
he was, had never been confronted with the need to take this type of
action. His pleasant nature had always
been his best defense, and normally he was proud of it, but it would not serve
him in this situation. He knew he needed help.
“I will seek counsel from the sage of the
Marte’s.” Many people came every day to seek his assistance for simple day-to-day
concerns and major needs. Surely he can provide me with the assistance I need. “Perhaps
an army of trained soldiers or fortifications of some grand design.” Richard smiled, at last feeling more in
control, and went to tell his lady wife. Lady De’Hall, also a kindly soul,
could not bear the thought of the unpleasant with its unknown horrors. She hurried
her husband into a coach with a kiss and a wave, and Richard was on his way.
The coach finally reached its
destination in front of the doors to the Wal De’ Marte’s, where he was led to
an area of the great hall where the sage sat listening to the pleas of the
people and dispensing advice and aid. The sage beckoned him forward.
“Great sage, I must know. How do I
avoid this unpleasant that threatens to engulf my kingdom? How can I best
protect my lady wife, my people and our lands?”
The great sage considered the question
for a moment and then, reaching behind his chair, brought forth a strangely
shaped short sword and a small metal container with a shocking pink cap.
“Lord De’ Hall, I bestow upon you
this magical elixir. Walk your lands
tonight and spray its contents when you believe you are near the threat. If a
threat is nearby, it will be illuminated with this brilliant color, which shall
serve as a beacon to you, then, with this enchanted blade you may strike down
your enemies. “Go forth now and do battle!”
“Ah, your wiseness?” Richard was a little
disturbed by the terms “smite and “do battle.”
“I don’t mean to be a bother or seem
ungrateful, but you mean me to do this by myself, alone?” Richard winced even
as he spoke the words, knowing that he did sound ungrateful and he was being a
bother.
The sage gave him a quelling stare. “I have given you what aid and counsel
you require. Go forth!”
When
Richard returned to his castle Lady de’ Hall was waiting to greet him. She listened with great interest as Richard
shared his tale and showed her the tools he had been given.
“You must try this immediately!” She
said.
She knew her lord, by virtue of his preference
for leisurely pursuits, might decide to wait until after supper and then it
could be days before the deed was done. Taking the initiative, she encouraged
him to attend to the task now, and Richard did so with all the
single-mindedness of a man whose supper is getting cold.
He found a place to sit and wait. The
idea of waiting for an undetermined amount of time, for an undisclosed
discomfort to arrive, caused certain frustration to arise but still, he waited.
As the sun sank below the horizon, the evening mists turned into a dense, wet
fog and his thoughts began to work overtime
“Is
that the unpleasant now? I think I hear it approaching. I’m certain that must be the unpleasant. It’s time!”
With this last thought he began to spray
into the darkness to the left, now the right, behind him, just in front of him
in the shadows, even at his very feet. The unpleasant was everywhere and yet he
could not see it. Where could it be? What if it was in the branches above him
getting ready to pounce? Everywhere he
looked he saw only pink spray and darkness. Finally the pressure became too
much.
“Come out, you evil things! Come out
here and fight fair!”
Silence
was the only answer. He shouted a few other things into the darkness that were
quite out of character with his pleasant nature, then threw his hands up in
defeat.
“That
is it! Clearly the sage is a charlatan. I may have felt something, but I saw
nothing substantial. There was nothing to smite!”
Richard didn’t know whether to feel foolish or
to be relieved he hadn’t had to smite anything after all. He decided to feel
relieved and, determined he would go home and see if he could get some supper
at last.
Lady
De’Hall was waiting for him in the dining room and gave a great cry of dismay
when he walked into the room.
“Husband, what happened? Have we
lost the battle? Do we flee?”
Richard
was puzzled by her words and although he was a man of pleasant nature he was
also cold and wet, and his belly was empty, so it isn’t surprising that he
responded in somewhat less than pleasant manner.
“What
the blazes are you yammering about?” he shouted. “I’m exhausted, cold, wet and
starving where is my supper?”
“Clearly you need to look in a mirror.” She gestured toward the bathing
chamber with a severe look. Of course he
was all those things, but “Yammering?” Really!
Richard was taken aback by his wife’s
snippy response and hurried toward to look into the great mirror on the wall.
He was covered from head to toe in shocking pink paint.
“What kind of trick is this?”
Richard stormed back into the dining room.
“I asked the sage for help! I did as he
instructed! I knew the unpleasant was there in the woods with me. I felt it so
I sprayed the elixir. Why is it I am the only thing covered in this cursed
color?” Richard glared at his wife.
“I
don’t understand,” He went on. “Does this mean that I am the unpleasant? That’s
not possible.”
Richard’s wife looked at him with some
concern as well as a little skepticism. After all, he was being a bit
unpleasant at the moment, but she did not mention this observation. Instead, she thought back to the rumors and
realized she couldn’t recall their actual origin.
“Husband,
do you recall who started the rumors?”
She was beginning to have a suspicion. Richard,
who had been pacing and muttering to himself, stopped to consider her words,
which was more productive than pacing and muttering as well as better for the
carpet, seeing as how every step left shocking pink foot prints across the
floor.
“Now that you mention it, I don’t recall
actually getting a name. What does that mean though? There was something in the woods with me. It
was everywhere around me and so very close.” He pondered and then a sheepish
grin appeared on his face.
“The unpleasant was in the woods with me
because I created it. I made it happen with my own unfounded fears, worries and
doubts. No wonder I’m pink from head to foot. I sprayed the source of the
unpleasant: Myself!” Richard’s pleasant nature re-asserted itself as his wife
began to giggle.
“Thank
goodness I didn’t try to smite anything. I might have cut off something
important.” Now Lady De’Hall was genuinely laughing, and Richard joined her in
the mirth of the moment. Richard gestured toward the dining table where a
silver service and dome-covered tray sat.
“Is
there any food for a poor, worn out, pink warrior to eat around here?”
Lady
De’ Hall approached her husband with a smile and gave him a loving kiss on one
shocking pink cheek.
“As
a matter of fact, there is and I can guarantee that eating it will be an
extremely pleasant adventure.”
And
it was.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Odd Blessing...
In honor of the Halloween Season.....
Do you see it?
The zombie walking over that hill?
Do you see it?
Do you think it means us ill?
Do you see it?
The rotting flesh and bulbous eyes?
Do you see it?
A re-animated seven course for flies.
Do you see it?
Seeking brains to munch?
Do you see it?
Shambling closer, it scents its nearby lunch.
Do you see it?
It passes by me, doesn't even try.
What the hell?
I feel a bit insulted, and heave a huffy sigh.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
The Little Man
Grace didn’t necessarily object to the idea of marriage someday, but she also had a passionate longing to sail a ship on the high seas. Her days were filled with all the tasks and lessons her mother set to prepare for becoming a wife, but her nights were filled with dreams of grand adventures aboard her own ship.
She had tried to convince her father to take her with him many times by telling him what a good lookout she would be, but he simply laughed and swept her into a huge bear hug.
“You’ve got a keen eye. I’ve no doubt, but the deck of a ship is no place for a girl, even a wild, fierce thing such as yourself. Why look at you! Your hair’s so long and unkempt, it would get caught in the rigging and I’d have to assign extra men just to keep you free of it. Then who would keep watch for Turkish raiders and Spanish pirates, hmm?”
She would hug him back, hiding her face in his great wide chest as her brothers joined in the jest knowing she’d lost the fight before it was begun.
The men had sailed with the tide that morning, and Grace turned away from the coast, headed back to the Keep, back to her chores and lessons. While her hands were busied with work, she determined to think of a way to bring her father around.
On the morning of the day the sailors were set to return, her mother handed her a basket and sent her off to look for mushrooms. As she wandered, Grace thought about her father’s words. She knew women didn’t go to sea, but that was only because one never had. There were many things people had never done until someone did it for the first time. Why should this be any different?
She kicked a stone viciously and watched it sail into a thicket that erupted in a loud commotion. Approaching the gnarled mass of brush, she pushed her way in until she could see the source of the noise. Tangled in the remains of an old snare, a large hare kicked and wriggled, trying to free itself. It was an odd-looking, faun-colored creature with a reddish tuft of fur on its head.
She stared for a moment, pondering. She had her knife and could easily put the creature out of its misery, but then she would have to take it back to her mother, who would certainly find more work for her to do.
“Truth to say, I’d really rather not kill you,” she murmured.
The rabbit stopped its struggling and turned its head to stare at her.Truth to say, I’d really rather not be killed!” it replied.
Grace gasped as the rabbit shimmered and reshaped itself into a little man wearing tattered clothes and a bright red cap.
“Oh, I am terribly sorry to have disturbed you, sir! I’ll just be on my way and good day to you.” Grace attempted to back away from the fairy man, but her hair caught in the bracken as he cried out.
“None of that now. Can you not see I’m trapped? Just cut the straps, and we can both be on our way.”
Grace knew it wasn’t right to leave him trapped, but she also knew she would have to handle things just right. The fairy folk were not the type of creatures you angered or helped without great personal risk. This would take bravery and wisdom.
“A moment ago I might have done so, thinking you only an odd-looking rabbit, but now that I know what you are, I’ll have your oath, sir. Promise on the red cap you wear you’ll take no vengeance upon me or mine for the snare and I will free you.”
Heaving a large sigh the little man reached up and took off his red cap and holding it to his heart. “Fairy Man am I, of the red cap I be, and by my hat I swear no harm, to you or yours from me.”
Grace drew her knife and sliced through the pieces of the snare that held him prisoner. With the little man free, Grace didn’t waste a second turning to run headlong toward the Keep. That evening after dinner, she told her tale to her family. Her brothers all praised her quick thinking and her father hugged her tight.
“My darling girl, you are wiser than your years as well as brave. You will have your chance to prove yourself on the deck of a ship. But that hair of yours… What’s to be done with it?”
Grace stepped away from her father and smiled as she drew her knife. “That’s easily solved Da. As I freed the little man, so now I’ll free myself.” Grabbing her braid in one hand, Grace drew her blade across the thick rope of hair and it came away in her hand.
Her mother wailed in dismay as Grace let the long, fiery plait fall to the floor and her brothers gasped in shock, but her father laughed with delight.
“What am I to do with such a daughter then? What say you, Grace O’Malley? Shall we find out?”
Her throat was suddenly tight and her heart was bursting with joy. Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and smartly saluted her father.
“Aye Captain!”
At last, she was going to sea.
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