It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the midday sun. Glancing back and forth, I followed the direction the woman had gone. The parking lot in front of the strip mall was nearly empty, and the few cars that were there were unoccupied. If she had gotten into her car, she’d already driven away. However, I didn’t think that was likely.
I followed the sidewalk down the length of the stores and then turned and walked along the side of the mall. At the end of the sidewalk, I turned once more, which brought me to the back side of the stores. There was a little stretch of green space, then a housing development beyond that.
There she was, leaning against a small tree in the middle of the expanse of grass. Her massive dress billowed in the light breeze, the huge purple flowers making it look like a windstorm of blossoms.
I started at a determined pace, but the closer I got to her, the more cautious my steps became. What exactly was I doing? I should have stayed in Panaderia. Bake a few more pans of something and let this crazy woman go on her own crazy way. I cast my magic a few feet from me in every direction, a small shield of protection.
A wry smirk crinkled her face, and as I got closer, I could hear a warm chuckle emanating from her.
“Who are you?” With each step, I grew more certain, but it didn’t quite make sense in my brain.
She didn’t answer, just crossed her arms under her heavy breasts and widened her grin.
Within a couple more feet, I was close enough that I could see her eyes had changed from the dirty brown to a brilliant-sunflower hue. “Schwint?”
Her smirk became a genuine smile, full of self-satisfaction. As if a switch had been flipped, the woman was gone, and Schwint took her place. His arms crossed over his T-shirt-clad chest, cargo shorts replacing the billowing curtain dress, navy flip-flops instead of hideous sandals.
“Handsome and a baker.” He gave me an exaggerated wink. “Dude! Do I know how to pick ’em!” His eyes traveled exaggeratedly over my body. “Maybe next time, you won’t be wearing anything under that little yellow apron.”
I stared at him, aghast. I hadn’t thought of the fairy since the park, other than in a stressed-out guilty way in connection with the drugs. And now, here he was under a tree, grinning that ridiculous smile, having just propositioned me in front of my sister while bringing up Spor.
“Close your mouth, darling boy. As handsome as you are, even you can’t pull that look off.” He tilted his gray newsboy cap down closer to his eyes, making his pointed ears stand out from his head. The sun wasn’t bothering him. As with everything he seemed to do, it was somehow meant to be flirtatious.
I found my voice, albeit unable to reach its normal volume. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I came to see you.” His lips curved, and he gave a small shrug.
“Yeah, caught that. Why?”
Another shrug, but this time his eyes darted away momentarily. It might be his version of a blush. “Do you want the exhaustive list?”
“I want to know why you show up without warning where I work, harass my sister, and announce we’d had sex and done Spor.”
He scoffed. “I didn’t do any such thing. I didn’t harass your sister, and I guarantee she has no idea you had oral relations with that fat woman while flying high in the middle of Balboa.”
I didn’t even know which issue to begin with, my words coming out with a splutter. “Why were you a woman?”
He let out a laugh and slapped his thigh. “Isn’t she a hoot! I call her Bertha. No idea what her real name is, but I think it’s fitting. A little expected maybe, but fitting.”
“She’s real? Did you possess her or something?”
He cocked his head at me and returned his arms into their crossed position. “You really need to brush up on your fairy facts there, Mr. Warlock. No, I didn’t possess her. I’m not a ghost. And yes, she’s real. Or at least was. I assume she’s still out there somewhere. I ran into her in this little flower shop in Missouri several years ago. She was a royal trip, let me tell you! Well, you know, you just met her.”
I stared at him, baffled.
Another impatient scoff. “I’m a fairy. I can change my appearance. Morph into anything I want to be.” He made a flicking motion with his hand. “Oh, don’t give me that look. It doesn’t hurt her any. She doesn’t know. But really, she’s priceless. You’re telling me you wouldn’t jump at the chance to clown around in her skin?”
“So, that’s your gig? You go around mocking people who struggle with their weight?”
“Struggle with their weight? Listen to yourself, pretty boy. Stop drinking the politically correct vernacular Kool-Aid of the unenlightened masses. Fat’s a lot simpler to say, and more honest.” His crooked grin returned. “We gotta replace that stick up your ass with something else.”
I passed over his oh-so-subtle innuendo. “I hadn’t thought you were mean. A little do-what-feels-good, maybe, but not mean.”
He had the good grace to look hurt. Actually, I kinda think he was. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. I just call it like I see it.”
“Maybe that’s a problem that you see someone who doesn’t physically agree with what you think they should look like and you think they deserve your ridicule.”
“You’re really gonna use this time to lecture me about how I treat people that don’t even know I exist?”
