Becoming P.T. Lyfantod - 28
A serial fantasy novel
What follows is Part 28 of Becoming P.T. Lyfantod
If you missed Part 1, start there:
Chapter Eight:
The Morning, After
“You never asked about the man in green.”
“No, indeed I didn’t.”
“I don’t understand. He left the book, and Lightfoot was in the book. He might’ve known something.”
“You know, I wasn’t very optimistic at fifteen. I didn’t excel at school, or particularly enjoy it, and life afterwards looked bleaker still. Everyone around me seemed to know who they were meant to be, and where they were going, but I had no idea. I had no goal, or guidepost to point me in the right direction. I’d never been taught to believe in God, like Merry. I never knew my father. My mother was not to be trusted. And my grandmother, the one unshakeable pillar of my world for as long as I could remember, was falling apart before my eyes, and I didn’t even think she knew it was happening. I didn’t know where I was going to end up, or if I was ever going to amount to anything, and…”
“What?”
“Look who I’m talking to. Here I am going on about how hard my life has been, and the two of you have had it far worse than I ever did.”
“Well, I don’t know about him, but my life is great.”
“But you—”
“I guess it was hard at first. Right after my parents, y’know—died. Worse for my brother, ‘cause he was so young, and didn’t really understand. Then those people from the government came and tried to split us up, and make us live with strangers. So we ran away and wound up living on the streets. That was scary because we didn’t know what was gonna happen, and sometimes it was hard to find food. But then we met Cassidy, and everything got better. Now we’ve got a huge family who’d do anything for us. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Plus, I don’t have to go to school.”
“I suppose I’d never—”
“Well I’ve got it even better than she does! Us Bloomers have everything she said, plus a house. It’s great. We do what we want, take what we want, if anybody tries to mess with us—BLAM!”
“Not the Brownies. We’ll mess with you all we want, you can’t do anything about it.”
“Can so!”
“No you c—”
“All right, all right! I underestimated both of you. Your lives are wonderful, and you’re both very tough. It was just me—angsty teenager, grandmother with dementia. The point I was trying to make, before I unnecessarily sympathized, was back then, I didn’t have a lot of hope about the future. Discovering Lightfoot was like finding a key to a door I hadn’t realized was there. And the man in green, though part of it… was like a fleck of sea foam at the crest of a tidal wave.”
“So you forgot to ask.”
“Precisely.”
Lightfoot’s knot spat me out exactly where I’d left, before the standing stone, amidst the bushes near Clyne Woods Pond. As the world reasserted itself, I was greeted by the discordant melody of distant bickering. From the sound of it, Tom had landed on Merry. Clearly Lightfoot hadn’t designed the magic—the magic!—of his stones with multiple travelers in mind. We’d have to learn to take turns.
As far as I could tell, other than the temperature, which had inexplicably plummeted, the universe was as we’d left it. The woods were dark and empty. We still had homework, and school on Monday. Our families were still waiting at home, blissfully unaware that the course of our lives had just changed forever. We knew, though, if none of us could guess then what it meant. We had more questions than answers. Far more questions than we’d arrived with. But the nature of those questions had changed. It was no longer a matter of whether the stories were true.
It was which ones.
I found the others gathered near the water. Despite all that had happened, Merry looked decidedly unhappy, and so did Tom. I didn’t understand why, till Merry moved the hand she’d been holding to her cheek. A long scratch ran down one side of her face, presumably acquired when Tom followed her out of Lightfoot’s chamber. By the look on Iain’s face, he was forcibly restraining himself from bringing it up. “Bloody hell, it’s cold,” he said instead, and shivered.
Stuart rubbed his shoulders in agreement. “So… what now?”
“I think tomorrow morning—” I began.
“Can’t,” interrupted Tom. “Football practice.”
I stared at him. “You can skip it.”
“I’m team captain. I wouldn’t skip practice for my own father’s funeral. You’ll just have to wait.”
“I’m not wasting half a day while you kick a ball into a net! The four of us—”
“Saturday morning’s no good for me, either,” said Merry. “We go grocery shopping.”
“Can’t you beg off?” Iain blurted.
Tom’s eyes narrowed, but Merry shook her head. “There’s no excuse I could make that wouldn’t also ruin the rest of the weekend. I could say I had pneumonia, but then they’d just keep me in bed and force-feed me canned soup.”
Tom slid his arm around Merry’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mer. You and I can meet up after practice. Should be a cake walk for a pair of charming, attractive, charismatic individuals such as ourselves, hmm?”
Merry stiffened, and for an instant her mouth narrowed—but then she snorted, and the corners of her lips turned up in a smile. “All right. Then we can all get together later and compare notes.”
“Okay,” I said, and Stuart nodded. Iain couldn’t take his eyes from Tom’s hand, dangling from Merry’s neck.
“Don’t go telling anyone,” he warned, looking right at Tom. “Not even your best mate, Dafydd Roberts.”
Tom scoffed. “Oh, so there are rules now, are there?” He jerked his chin at Stuart and I. “I suppose if they weren’t here, you’d have kept it from them?”
“Doesn’t matter, cause they are here. And this was P.T.’s idea in the first place. You’re only here at all cause we let you be. Don’t forget that.”
“And don’t you forget it was me that found the rock. Dafydd is my best mate. Has been for years. That’s loyalty. If I see fit to tell him, there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Wanna bet?” Iain growled, stepping forward.
Merry put a hand on Tom’s chest. “Tom, no. He’s right.” She twisted to glare at Iain. “Even if he is expressing it poorly.” Iain reddened. “You can’t tell anyone. Even Dafydd. This secret is going to be hard enough to keep as it is. If any more people know, it’s going to be impossible. You don’t want the whole school finding out, do you?”
Tom scowled at Iain over Merry’s shoulder for a long, tense moment before answering. “No,” he allowed, grudgingly. “I s’pose not.” His eyes flicked down to Merry’s, then up again. “I’ll keep it to myself. For now.”
“Good,” Merry nodded. “It’s settled then. We’ll all attempt the trial on our own, then compare notes at school on Monday.
“Monday?” Who could wait till Monday? Then I saw Iain’s face. “I mean—Monday’s perfect.” The others muttered agreement. I hated to wait, but if we stayed any longer, Iain was going to hit Tom. If that happened, he’d probably tell the whole football team, just out of spite. He could ruin everything.
“Best get home then,” Stuart said. “Mam’ll be worried.” He managed to drag Iain away, and the two of them strode off.
“You go on ahead, Petey,” Tom shooed. “Mer and I want to talk a bit. Privately.”
“Sure…” I said, “See you two Monday.”
I caught up with Iain and Stuart near the playground at the entrance, and we continued in silence to the bikes. “Hey ah… Stu,” I said softly as Iain tugged at the chain locking them together. “Do you think you could write a copy of the song for me? From the stone. Like, with the notes and everything?”
Stuart blinked. “I could… probably do it.”
“Thanks. And… don’t tell anyone, would you?”
“Whatever you say, P.T. Your secret’s safe with me.”
