Blood & Flowers (17 page)

“I haven't even told you all that much,” Floss said. “And it
is
criticizing their rule.”

“So you agree with me?”

“Mab, Tonio, of course I agree with you,” Floss
said. “Aside from the very obvious fact that we're not ready….”

“Does it say when?” Max asked. “When this preview is supposed to take place?”

Tonio looked at the letter again, but I had the feeling that he already knew the answer. “In two days' time,” he said.

“Oh, please,” I said, while Lucia whispered, “Two days?” and Nicholas said, “I have to say that I, personally, am not ready. I don't have even one faerielight that works the way it should. And what I don't have doesn't even begin to cover us as a group, or to mention all the other ways that we're not prepared.”

“Add in the fact that we still don't have a real script, just an outline concept,” said Tonio.

“It's impossible,” I said.

“Yes, well, it's my parents,” Floss said viciously.

“Oh, I'm sure Major had some say,” Max said.

“But can you do it?” Fred added, “I don't understand half of what you all do. Can you do it?”

Bron passed the sangria. I pulled a slice of orange out of my glass and chewed on it. “No.”

“Persia, you're usually positive,” Lucia cried.

I slumped in my chair and stared at her. “I know, I know. But two days? Lucia, we don't have—anything!”

“We do, though,” Max said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him. “We have an idea and a name. I know Floss has puppets we can use because, as Tonio says, Floss can make everything do anything. Nicholas at least has an idea for a light source. Persia has signs. Tonio has an idea, and if we can't improv with one another after this long, what's the point?”

“We won't have polish, that's for sure,” Tonio said, “but we do have a little bit of something.”

“We have karaoke. We have audience sing-along.” Floss looked at us each in turn. “I can guarantee my family will not enjoy or participate in karaoke or something that resembles a hootenanny.”

“Floss would be right about that.” Fred sounded apologetic. “Karaoke isn't quite the family style.”

While Floss muttered, “Our family has no style. Of any kind,” I said, “So we treat it like a rehearsal and cross our fingers and hope?” The two sentences twisted around each other and came out sounding
like “Our family treats it like a rehearsal—no style and hope.”

Fred blinked. “That was interesting. It just blended so well. Can you do that in a play?”

Floss and I sat up straight. We grinned at each other. “You know,” I said, but Lucia beat me to it.

“Blended audience participation dialogue,” she said gleefully. “They feed us lines based on the song lyrics….”

“And we pull the play along with the songs themselves,” I finished.

Lucia nodded. “Like Max said. Improv.” She took a deep breath and added, “I'll even sing.”

Nicholas and Floss both looked at her, eyes wide, and said, “Lucia! Yes!”

“We still have to have lyrics to pick from,” Max said, talking over them, “but we can come up with some select choices for Persia's books. We can pick things that can help us get where we want to go, one way or another.”

“We'll just use the basic plot from the outline I started the day we decided to switch to the dance-hall
scenario. We all know Mr. Fox, so we should be able to work with that easily enough,” Tonio said.

“They won't participate. You know that, right?” Fred asked, his eyes on Floss.

Floss's nostrils flared as she breathed in. She finally said, “Maybe some of the staff will be there.”

Fred looked at her as if she were delusional, and Floss shrugged.

“Then we throw out the line ourselves and go from there.” She sounded quite determined.

Max turned to Nicholas. “We can get enough light with candles if we have to. We just can't move much.”

Nicholas nodded. “Right. Candles definitely won't work on the bikes, but I'm sure Fred can help me get a least one faerielight platform and the light that goes with it ready to go.”

Fred said, “Possibly,” but he didn't sound like he was thinking about his answer. He seemed hesitant when he added, “You were in the depths of despair, and now…”

“Now,” Floss said to her brother, “we have something to work with.” She sent him a subversive, little
grin and added, “And we
will
make it work.”

“It turns that fast?”

Floss shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Just give me a beat,” El Jeffery said. “You'll have background.”

Tonio smacked the table with his palms in 4/4 time. “I'll find songs that match.”

Floss was counting on her fingers. “With the blue dog we have six workable puppets.” She paused, then said, “They still won't like it, you know.”

“Ah,” I said, “but maybe they won't hate it. That gives us a lot of wiggle room.”

T
wo days is a very short time. Things that get accomplished in two days may include, but are not limited to, the following:

All things taken as equal, I thought we were doing fine. Our songs had been picked by Tonio, and he'd done a brilliant job, choosing old dance-hall and vaudeville tunes that at least one or two of us knew and that the rest of us could background. Then he and I pulled the best lines and came up with an eclectic list of eighteen short sentences. I'd made as many sample books as I could using materials from Elbe's, and they looked, even if I was the one to say it, brilliant. Bindings worked with that gorgeous cherry red thread twisted together with a deep sea blue. Water-washed black covers fading to those myriad shades of gray that Fred and I had worked on. Cream parchment inside with filigree lettering in blood and gold. The whole package looked like a carousel.

Floss's blue dog was the obvious evil star of this
production. We'd all decided he was our best bet for Mr. Fox. Now, along with his lace collar and tie, he had a bowler hat. This shouldn't have come close to working, but it did. Even with his blue-tinged fur he made a believable producer. Lucia made him move so convincingly that he had to have a name. We came up with Edgar, which made us all start referring to the whole enterprise as Edgar Fox's Downfall.

“Downfall,” Floss said, and she was fierce. “Let's plan on it being theirs, not ours.”

Almost as an afterthought she added, “And not Fred's either. Poor thing. He's more or less stuck right in the middle. And he's not really doing anything that they could hate.”

“Of course he is,” I pointed out. “He's doing all that work with Nicholas.”

Floss said a noncommittal, “Hmm.”

“Ah, maybe you're right,” I said. “It's just lighting, after all. Who could hate lighting?”

That was the exact moment we heard a loud “Damn” from next door. Then we heard rapid footsteps, so we peeked into the hall. Both Fred and
Nicholas were there, and they looked nervous. There was a scent of burning in the air, a large hole in Nicholas's shirt, and a smudge on Fred's left hand, just above the silver band on his first finger.

“Faerielight,” Fred muttered, “is not supposed to act like that. It's supposed to be well behaved at least, even if it doesn't do exactly what you want it to do.”

“Whatever,” Nicholas said. “It's acting like that, and it seems to want to keep acting like that. Let's just forget the flash. We don't need the flash. At least not enough to risk burning down the stage.”

Fred opened the door to their workroom with caution. “It's fine now. It's out.”

“No flash,” Nicholas repeated, as if to convince himself, and they went back inside.

Floss and I had barely moved back to our own projects when Lucia, Max, and Tonio walked past our door arguing. “If we don't stage it with a dance-hall proscenium, why are we even bothering?” Lucia asked. She had a sock puppet with long black curls, tiny gloves, a miniature red bustier, and a flowing red feather boa. The puppet looked very dance
hall, which was impressive, because it's hard to do a lot of costuming with a sock. Hard to accessorize, too, apparently. Her earrings looked like two teeny, twisted paper clips.

“We don't have time to make a proscenium,” Max said, which I thought was pretty realistic. “Especially not one with red and gold curtains.”

“Cardboard?” Lucia tried. “Or some kind of puppet?”

“No more puppets. I don't have time,” Floss yelled into the hall in her stevedore voice.

“And it will be on a stage,” Tonio promised. “We'll create the illusion.”

“Sometimes,” Lucia's puppet muttered as they banged down the stairs, “illusion is harder than reality.”

“How true,” Floss said. “But I really don't have the time to make reality. And I need enough green tulle to make three small ballet skirts.”

Before I could say anything, she added, “For the chorus line.”

“We have a chorus line?” I asked.

Floss sighed. “Of course not, Persia. I can only do so much. We have six-fingered minikin rod puppets who dance in the background. They're attached to one another so we only need one person to move the whole group. That's why the skirts have to be so small. I wish I knew where Elbe was.”

Although this series of sentences lacked Floss's usual polish and flow, I got the idea. “I'll go look for Elbe,” I volunteered.

She shook her head. “That would be useful, but you'll never find him alone. You need a guide.” She thought for a minute, then said, “Take El Jeffery.”

“He won't go,” I said. “He says his drums aren't ready. Surely you've heard all the noise? It's been like a backdrop to every conversation for hours now.”

“Oh, I've heard,” Floss said. “If he's not willing to go, if he says he needs more practice, tell him he's got his drums close enough to perfection. Convince him that he'll lose his edge if he keeps banging away at them, that he won't be any good tonight.”

“Okay. I can but try. And when I come back I can do a sketchy stage opening. I'm done with the song lists.”

“Fine. Tell Lucia on your way out. She'll stop worrying. I need a relaxed dog tonight.”

When I found El Jeffery he was slouching through Dau Hermanos smacking a marching band drum. All the racket was making Bron and Rohan roll their eyes and exhale long, heavy breaths.

“He fluctuates between being puffed up and full of himself because he's to be in the play, and looking vaguely ill because he's to be in the play,” Bron said, speaking louder than he normally would. I knew he was trying to be heard over the drum, but I also thought he might be sending a message to the griffin. When he added, “And of course, there's the banging,” I was sure about the message.

I went over to El Jeffery and said, “You're going to be wonderful. Think of this as a dress rehearsal, instead of something important.” His eyes got big when I said important, so I hurried to add, “And I really need you to help me.”

El Jeffery perked up and put his drumsticks down. He seemed pleased to have a distraction. “Of course, Persia. What can I do?”

“We need to find Elbe. Floss needs green tulle, and she says I'll never be able to find him by myself.”

“This is true,” he said. “Elbe rarely lets himself be found by someone who isn't Faerie-born.” He led the way outside and we began the complicated to-ing and fro-ing that was involved in tracking Elbe's store. This time I followed in his tracks. It didn't help. I still had no hint of what we were doing, and I knew I'd never be able to replicate these pseudo–dance steps on my own.

But El Jeffery was good. We were on Elbe's porch in just under ten minutes, caught in the glow of colored lights coming through the rainbow that seemed to be one of Elbe's permanent fixtures. When I complimented the griffin he said, “Only because he wanted us to find him.”

“Wouldn't he always?” I asked. “He sells stuff.”

“Depends on who's looking, and for what,” El Jeffery said obliquely.

We found what I considered the right tulle for Floss's job and took it to the counter.

“Big show tonight,” said Elbe.

“Word travels,” said El Jeffery.

For some reason those five words sparked my idea. From the start I'd had more nervousness about going to Floss's family's house than about anything else. It seemed like we were walking in with the odds stacked against us. But…“Elbe,” I cried, “could we do the show here? We could stage off the porch. It's even got semi–side wings. And you've got controllable lights and a place for puppets to come and go.”

Elbe squinted his eyes. “The lights only work inside.”

“That's okay. I think they've got the stage lights figured out.” While this wasn't even partially true, it made me sound confident. “But we could use backstage lights, too.”

He wiggled his shoulders. “I'm very apolitical, you know,” he finally said. “It's the only way to survive when you're a seller.”

Since El Jeffery had already told me that Elbe was found only when he wanted to be, I decided to just let this pass. Maybe, in Elbe's mind, selling and politics were two totally different things. But I did see
his point. “Letting us work here could put you in bad standing?”

“They did ask for the show,” El Jeffery pointed out, and neither Elbe nor I needed to ask who “they” were.

“But they asked for it on their home ground,” I said.

“All the more reason to have it somewhere else, then.”

“Of course. But will they come to somewhere else?”

“And will they think that somewhere else is fair?” asked Elbe.

“We'll talk to Floss and Fred. They know the family rules. It's their house, after all.” I was almost out the door when I thought to ask, “Can you wait here? Or, better, will you?”

Elbe shuffled a bit behind his counter, then nodded. But it was easy to see he was reluctant.

“Five minutes,” I promised. “Should El Jeffery stay as collateral?”

“I'm certainly worth it,” said the griffin, “but I'll stay for a chance to chat with my cousin instead.”

I stopped half out the door clutching my package.
“Is ‘cousin' figurative or literal?”

“Oh, literal,” Elbe said. “You've just never seen my feet.”

 

I found Tonio, Lucia, and Max dipping tortilla chips in pale green salsa, and I realized just how hungry I was. Lucia's sock puppet lay on the table, flattened, eyes staring at nothing, boa draped like a small resting snake. I grabbed a handful of chips and dropped my package on the table. “For Floss,” I explained, and then I told them my idea for staging at Elbe's.

“I like it,” Tonio said when I was finished. “Neutral space.”

“I haven't seen it,” Max said. “You really think it'll work for a stage?”

“Probably a whole lot better than anything Floss's family will supply,” I said through my mouthful of chips. “But you can see for yourself. Elbe swore he'd wait five minutes.”

Tonio launched himself out of his chair. “Let's go, then.”

Max and Lucia followed. Lucia's puppet looked
depressed all by itself, there on the table, so I grabbed it and jammed it on my hand as I followed them out the door. The puppet's taffeta skirt rustled.

Elbe's Emporium was shifting just a bit as we got there, like it was ready to move on and was being held in place by a leash. Tonio, who of course had the best eye of all of us for this kind of thing, said, “Perfect. Genius, Persia,” before we even got on the porch.

Maybe I'd been wasting my talents all this time, never going space hunting. Maybe my eye was better than I thought. I bobbed Lucia's puppet and said, “Thank you,” graciously. I guess there's something about having a puppet. You want to use it, make it come to life. Even a sock puppet.

Lucia had already been to Elbe's with Fred so she didn't prowl like Max and Tonio were doing, and she didn't go inside with them. She stood next to me on the porch, under the huge overhang near the prayer flags, and said, “What do you think of Elvira?” and pointed to the puppet on my hand.

“Oh, the heroine!” I said. “Comfy. What is she? Wool?”

She nodded. “It wicks sweat. Floss and I thought several of them might make a chorus—one person could work two at a time, and they'd sort of match the star.”

I gave Elvira back to her. “Makes sense. And they're easy to make sing.”

“Sing, sing, sing,” Lucia corrected. “But I'm still worried about that stage. A nice proscenium with a curtain would make everything so much more impressive.”

“Oh, that's right,” I told her. “Floss and I talked. I'll take care of that as soon as we finish up here.”

Lucia brightened. “Excellent! Because that looks like now.” Max, El Jeffery, and Tonio were back outside, all looking pleased. We walked down the steps in two rows, Lucia and I in front with Elvira, and Tonio, Max, and El Jeffery in back.

“I think Elbe's is perfect,” Tonio said. “I'll talk to Floss and Fred and see what we need to do to switch venues.”

As soon as all of our feet were on the grass I heard a pop that sounded like a balloon deflating in the
distance. When I looked behind me, Elbe's was gone. I turned to El Jeffery. “He'll be back though, right? Tonight? When we need him?”

El Jeffery grinned. “Of course he will. He's Elbe. Now let's go talk to Floss.”

As I headed back to Dau Hermanos I heard Lucia, using her Elvira voice, say, “And don't forget that stage opening and those curtains.”