Chapter Fourteen

Jessie was excited about her date tonight with Rowan.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d anticipated a date so much.  After a long soak in the tub, she stood before her closet, trying to decide what to wear.  Finally, she pulled on a blue velvet skirt.
“I haven’t worn this in years. I wonder…”  She rifled through drawers until she unearthed an amethyst satin blouse.  It needed ironing, but it complimented the skirt beautifully.  She quickly finished dressing and headed out.  The bus into the city ran often enough to make a car unnecessary, but Jessie knew Sunday nights there were fewer buses, so she wanted to allow plenty of time.

While she waited for her ride she watched a group of children playing on the playground, swinging high into the fog, then dropping back to earth over and over rhythmically.  The soothing repetition of the swing, up and back, up and back, seemed almost mesmeric.  Jessie became aware of many children darting in and out of the bushes around the swing set.  They were odd: too small to be out alone at this hour, or perhaps just too small.
There were also extraordinarily large butterflies playing with the children, butterflies of many brilliant colors that left sparkling contrails in their wakes.  The scene was idyllic, a dreamy, watercolor vision that transfixed her.  Jessie found herself remembering days spent with her Gran building fairy houses in the woods. Fairies! Those were fairies!

“Excuse me, miss, did you want this bus?”  The driver stood beside her, cigarette in hand.  “I have to get going if I’m going to stay on schedule.”

Jessie was startled to realize the bus pulled up while she daydreamed.  “Oh, yes, thank you.”  She boarded and the driver climbed up right behind her.  Looking out through the window the playground was deserted.  Had she been dreaming?  Jessie shook her head and rubbed her face.  She was seeing things, just like old Hattie.  First that “angel.”  Since then she’d sensed something around each corner.  And the dream… it was all too weird.

When she reached her stop, Rowan was waiting for her.  She flushed in excitement and a huge grin embarrassed her, refusing to leave.  When he saw her, Rowan’s face echoed hers, and they drew together, magnetized.  They kissed as though this was a reunion after days instead of hours, wrapping around each other, striving to meld into one.  People passing smiled, remembering their own young loves.  Finally, arm in arm, they began to walk to the restaurant.

“Rowan, do you believe in, well, other realities?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like, maybe beings that aren’t human.  I mean, could there be other beings around that we just don’t see?  I know it sounds weird, but…” Jessie realized Rowan had stopped walking.  “You probably think I’m crazy.  It’s just that Hattie told me she saw a little person--a brownie, she called it.  I know, she’s probably not all there, just a nutty old street person, or maybe she was drunk, but …” She stopped.  “Rowan, don’t look at me like that.  It wasn’t important.  I’m not crazy, really.”

Rowan wrapped his arms around her.  “Hush, little one.  You are anything but crazy.  I trust you.  And yes, to answer your question, I do think it is entirely possible.  The world is a very big place, and much more complex than any of us realize.”

Jessie felt the tension drain out suddenly, leaving her weak-kneed.  “You do? You don’t think I’m loosing it?”

“I know you aren’t ‘loosing it’.  You, my dear, are eminently sane.”

“But Rowan, there’s more.”  She felt him stiffen slightly and pull back to look into her eyes, questioning.

“I’ve seen some things lately that I just can’t explain.  Waiting at the bus stop tonight I swear I saw fairies playing in the park.  And I feel like there is someone watching me, someone I can almost see, but when I look he’s gone…” she fell silent.  “I…I am crazy, aren’t I?”

“No, Jessie, no.  What you see is real.”

“How do you know?  Have you seen it?”

Rowan was quiet for a long moment then he sighed.  “How would you feel about dinner at my place?  I think we need someplace private to talk.”

“Sure, okay.  You’re making me nervous though.  Is everything alright?”

“Absolutely.  Don’t worry.  It isn’t far.  Let’s walk.”  Taking Jessie’s arm, he led her back to his shop.

“I thought you meant your home, Rowan.”

“I did.  I live over the shop.  You’ll see.  Follow me.”

At the rear of the shop was a steep, narrow staircase that climbed two stories.  The door opened into a loft, with windows along the rear facing the bay. Jessie was drawn to the view, enjoying the sparkle of city lights caught on the water.

Rowan came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms.  “I have a small garden down there, but you can’t see it at night,” he whispered in her ear.  “I grow a lot of herbs, mostly, but also some veggies.  I should have enough picked to make us a vegetarian feast.”  He left her then, and crossed the room, lighting candles as he went, until he reached a Pullman kitchen.  Jessie followed through the homey touches of overstuffed chairs and piled books.

The kitchen was spotless, and, though small, it contained all the basic necessities.  It was clear a cook lived here, with the finest knives and hanging fresh herbs in evidence.  In no time Rowan was sautéing squash, onions, tomatoes and basil to make a fresh ratatouille.  Jessie loved watching him work; she could imagine a painting of colors flying that would represent the energy beautifully.  Whenever she thought of Rowan, she thought of art, she realized.  He inspired her.

“I’ve decided that you must be my muse,” she said.  Laughing, she added, “Whether you want the job or not.  All I have to do is think of you, or be with you, and ideas flow freely.  So, that’s it.  Your new job title: muse.”

Rowan grinned and bowed deeply.  “I am honored.  I accept.  I like the idea of being a muse.” Carrying their plates, they climbed another staircase until they reached the roof.  The night was clear and crisp, but Rowan wrapped her in blankets so she was quite comfortable.  The stars provided the decoration, aided by city lights that mirrored them.

“I feel like I’m in a jewel box!”  Jessie snuggled next to Rowan.  “It is so beautiful, Rowan.  If I lived here I’d never want to leave.”

“Until you came along I rarely did.  Unless my duties called me out.”

“What duties?”

“Do you remember the evening when you returned to my shop for the second time?”

“Sure.  It was raining.  We read poetry.  What about it?”

“Returning home that evening, did you see anything unusual?”

Jessie paused to think.  “Oh!  The angel!  That was the first time I saw something, well, unexplainable.  But how did you know?”

Rowan began to laugh.  “Angel?  Hoo, that’s a good one.”  He was laughing too hard to speak.

“What is so funny?  I did see an angel.  Hattie saw her too.  Rowan!  Stop laughing at me.”

“Oh, Jess, honey, I’m not laughing at you.”  Rowan tried again to control his merriment.  His giggles were contagious and Jessie found herself laugh uncontrollably.  The release was lovely, and for some minutes they gave in to the laughter until, finally, spent,

Rowan continued.  “It’s just that, oh how can I possibly explain?  That was no angel.  That was Illianna, queen of the fairies and my long time friend.”

Jessie just stared at him, mouth gaping.  “Fairy?  Friend?  I don’t get it.”

“I want to explain, but you’re really going to have to trust me.  I know it’s a big leap of faith, but you can do that.”

“Rowan,” Jessie whispered, “…who are you?”  Her heart suddenly began to hammer at her chest, making breathing difficult.

“I’m still the same, slightly rumpled shop owner you’ve come to know and, I hope, like.”  With that comment he tipped his head, studying her from under his brows, questioning.

Jessie was unable to speak for some minutes.  Finally, she said, “You didn’t think I was crazy when I told my unlikely story.  At least I can do the same for you.  I’m listening.”

Rowan told Jessie of the Otherlings, and the veil.  He told her he was a wizard, older than the United States.  He painted magical pictures to show her his past, his world, his life.  For hours they sat as the moon sailed the skies above them and dropped from sight.  Jessie drank in his world with a deep thirst, absorbing the mystery into every pore, feeling at one with this truth.  She’d always known there was more to the world than she saw.  She’d known, yet not known, until tonight.

Sometime around four she drifted to sleep in his arms, more at peace than ever before in her life.  Rowan lay and watched the rise and fall of her breath as it made clouds in the cold.  This human woman, this Jessie, had heard his tale and not turned away.  Rowan sensed that she saw him, really saw him, for himself.  She liked him.  Not for his magic, although she loved the magic.  This was real magic.  He was enchanted, bewitched, bedazzled.

As the sun peeked over the rooftop, Jessie woke.  She smiled into Rowan’s eyes.  “Have you been watching me sleep?”

“Yes ma’am. Did you have pleasant dreams?”

“I slept wonderfully!  I feel like I’ve been on vacation, I’m so rested.”  She stretched and sat up.  “What time is it?”

“About seven.”

“Oh, gosh, I’ve got to run!  I’ve got to get to work!”

“At least let me make you some breakfast.”

“No, I’ll just grab a roll.”  Jessie stopped in her tracks, turned and threw her arms around Rowan.  “I wish I could stay.  Let’s meet for lunch, okay?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t close the shop mid-day.  How about dinner?”

“Oh, I wish I could, but I’m committed to a fund raiser.  Darn!  Tomorrow then?”

“Definitely tomorrow.”

“At my place?  This time I’ll make you dinner.”

“I can’t wait.”  Rowan pulled Jessie back onto the chaise lounge, kissing her.  She pulled away.

“Rowan, I really must go.”  She pulled on her shoes and headed for the stairway.  Rowan followed her.

“Until tomorrow then.  Pull your collar up.  It’s nippy.”  He straightened her coat collar and pulled her scarf around her, then pulled her into his arms for one last hug.

At the door to the shop, Jessie met two tiny green men who lounged there, waiting for Rowan to open.  They stood no more than a foot tall, with skin the color of a wheat field starting to ripen.  Their clothing was the same greenish-brown, giving them an all over monotone.  She stopped and stared, feeling the world shifting off center.  They ignored her.  Taking several deep breaths, Jessie turned away and headed downtown.