1kaday

It only takes an instant for a good day to turn into a bad one.

The fair had gone extremely well. You can’t predict these things, but my fiddle had danced well and the people had responded, filling my case with coins and even bills. One of those bills had Benjamin Franklin’s face, and I wish I knew who’d put it in there, because I wanted to play for him again.

But I was frozen to the bone, thanks to an uncommonly chill wind. Uncommonly for Texas, anyway. People up north would laugh at those of us who do the fair circuit in a Texas winter… just as we would chuckle in the summer at them. So I was thankful the heater worked as I started my way home.

And then, in an instant…

I didn’t understand why the car shut down so completely, not at first. The engine, the electronics, everything just stopped, but the wheels kept moving and the road was slick, which added up to me finding myself in a ditch, some ten feet outside of the car. Every part of me ached, but despite going through the windshield, I didn’t seem to be actually hurt.

“I am never going to forget to buckle again,” I managed to groan, starting to get up.

Then I froze. The back hairs on my neck were rising, and I realized they knew something was wrong, too. There was almost no noise, which was almost impossible this close to a highway, even this late at night. Only, the highway didn’t seem to be there anymore, as I looked around searchingly. I hadn’t gone that far off the road, had I? And I hadn’t been thrown that far out of…

“Where’s the car?”

I almost jumped, my voice startlingly loud in the silence. I peered about more, searchingly, looking at all the trees that made it impossible to think there was a highway anywhere nearby, let alone a car. The only thing that looked at all familiar was my fiddle case, laying at my feet. I hooked it with my shoe, not wanting to move from that spot until I had more of an idea what happened but not wanting to leave my case sitting in the snow like I was, and pulled it onto my lap, almost hugging it as I looked around some more.

Even the trees were unfamiliar. They were clearly trees, of course, but not the oak that’s so prevalent in the area. I think I muttered something about this not being Kansas when I heard a sound behind me and shifted around.

Even after everything, I still wasn’t prepared for the procession I saw. The horses seemed normal enough, six large black stallions, but the carriage they were pulling was anything but. A large carriage, so white as to almost blind, with gold trim along the front, sides and base that looked like real gold rather than paint, floating behind the stallions as they effortlessly pulled it along.

It likely was effortlessly, too, as the carriage had no wheels and the body was a couple feet off the ground. If it had only been that, I would have suspected some sort of experimental anti-gravity devise, but everything else I was seeing pointed to another explanation.

The people moving beside and behind the carriage, for instance, were clearly not human. Some were too tall. Others were far too small. Still others had complexions you don’t find on people. Yet others had the heads of animals and the bodies of people, or some other hybrid of man and animal, such as the centaur near the back of the procession.

And then there was the lady in the carriage. I could see her through the windows, see the ethereal, otherworldly beauty, the porcelain skin, the ruby lips, the black velvet hair… I very nearly fell in love with her on sight, and I’ve always been completely heterosexual. No man could resist her charms, I felt sure, and I could see a man in the carriage with her, clearly staring at her, enthralled.

I stared at the procession as it came close, passing as though I weren’t even there, and I blinked again, realizing something. As the carriage drew abreast of me, I rose to my feet without knowing I was going to, and shouted, “Wait!”

The horses paused, as did the carriage. The people were more haphazard in stopping, causing a few minor collisions but likely no injuries. All eyes turned on me.

A small part of me was glad I’d stayed in my gown rather than changing into my jeans and t-shirt before leaving the fairgrounds. This way, at least, I was properly dressed for the occasion.

But most of me was staring at the Lady in the carriage, even as she looked back at me, a delicate eyebrow arched as she waited for me to explain why they were no longer moving. The man with her looked as well, but dully, as though he didn’t really see me.

“That’s my fiancee,” I said in a small voice tinged with wonder. “Please, you cannot take my fiancee.”

The Lady’s other eyebrow joined the first. “Cannot? I assure you, child, I can, and will, do as I please. Already, he is devoted to me.”

“No, no, you mustn’t, this can’t be hap…” I trailed off. No, it couldn’t be happening, could it? I must have hurt myself more than I thought, and was still lying by the side of the road, probably bleeding to death and having a horrible, dying dream.

But I didn’t believe that, not really. If that were the case, then I was dead anyway, but I couldn’t take the chance that things weren’t happening the way they seemed to be.

I pulled myself up to my full height, squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “Then I challenge you for the right to his heart.”

The Lady smiled a small, cold smile. “I see.”

–

Now Playing: Cottage from the album “Legend soundtrack” by Tangerine Dream

Filed under: fiction, kayble