Martin Millar - The Good Fairies of New York.html (9 page)

'Ha! I knew you were lying.'

Heather fluttered around in agitation.

'I was not lying. I can trade you anything. Except money. We are not allowed to bargain with wealth. Sorry.'

'You paid my rent.'

'That was helping a human in need, not a bargain.'

'Well, to hell with you. I'll keep the violin.'

'Oh, come on, there must be something else you want. I can get you your heart's desire.'

Dinnie wandered over to the window. He couldn't think what his heart desired and he had no wish to give up his fiddle.

'I don't want anything. So you can't have it. Now excuse me, I'm off to buy some beer. And let this be a lesson to you. You fairies might think you're smart, but compared to a human like me, you're nowhere.'

Dinnie, vastly pleased at putting one over on Heather, whom he regarded as altogether too pushy for her own

good, hummed a tune as he waddled down the stairs.

In Cornwall, Magris was not pleased. King Tala had instructed him to bring back Petal and Tulip. In Magris's

eyes, this was a waste of time. They were far away and could do no harm.

Magris was more interested in his restructuring of Cornish fairy society. Already, under his guidance, the fairies no longer lived free in the woods but were concentrated in workhouses under the rule of barons. As a consequence of this, production had soared and trade with the fairies in France and elsewhere was booming. As far as he could see, the only problem facing them was Aelric and his band, and he had every confidence that they would soon be apprehended by the security forces.

'I have moved you overnight from being the nominal lord of a hunter—gatherer society into the king of a well-

ordered feudal realm,' he told Tala. 'And now that I have invented the steam engine, there is no limit to our progress. We will make as many goods as the humans. Forget Tulip and Petal, they are not important.'

Tala, however, was set in his ways and would not accept their flight. He ordered Magris to bring them back. So file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

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Magris sent messengers with gold to gather a band of mercenaries, and thought about the most efficient way of sending them to America.

Kerry and Morag were buying coffee and beer in the deli.

'What's that noise?'

There was a distant hum which grew quickly into a loud bustle of shouting and marching as a large procession

turned into 4th Street and tramped their way along.

'It's a protest march.'

'What's it about?'

'We're here, we're queer, get used to it!' chanted the procession.

The marchers stretched out their arms through the ranks of the surrounding police to give out leaflets detailing their grievances. Kerry took a leaflet and read it to Morag. It said that in recent weeks there had been an increase in attacks on gays in the city. Men were waiting outside gay nightclubs and bars and harassing anyone who came out. This had led to serious injuries and the gay community was protesting that they were not receiving enough protection from the police.

'We're here, we're queer, get used to it!'

The men and women marching were mainly young and they were grim faced. Scores of police officers surrounded

them and roughly shepherded them along. Not far away, in Tomkins Square, there had been a series of

disturbances and as the démonstration was heading that way there was an added tension in the way the police were handling the crowd.

Kerry saw faces she recognised and waved to the marchers. She told Morag that only last week two friends of hers had been beaten up after leaving a gay bar in the West Village.

Morag was perplexed by the whole thing. Kerry did her best to explain it to her but she was a little disconcerted when Morag burst out laughing.

'What's funny?'

'You humans,' shrieked Morag, and laughed uproariously. 'You make such silly problems for yourselves. We

fairies have no such difficulties. Even the MacKintoshes, who are thiefs, cheats and liars, have more sense than to take any notice of two men fairies rolling round in the glens.'

'These glens are sounding more and more interesting,' said Kerry. 'You must take me there some time.'

'Get out of my way, you damned faggots,' sounded a rough voice nearby. 'Can't a man go out for a beer these days without being apprehended by a bunch of pansy radicals?'

It was Dinnie, elbowing his way to the deli.

'Hello, Dinnie,' said Kerry. Dinnie seemed taken aback, and spluttered. He walked off without replying.

'We're going in the wrong direction,' said Heather, on his shoulder. 'And why are you blushing?'

Back in his apartment Dinnie poured beer down his throat and Heather sniggered.

'You are in love with Kerry.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' snorted Dinnie.

'I'm not being ridiculous. I saw you blush, stammer and walk away in the wrong direction after she said hello. You can't fool a fairy about this sort of thing.

'Well, Dinnie, this is your lucky day. Bringing lovers together is a particular speciality of mine. No case too hopeless. And this can be our bargain. You give me the MacPherson Fiddle, and I will get you Kerry.'

Dinnie was more than dubious about Heather's proposal. He dismissed it as .preposterous.

'There's nothing preposterous about it. It is a braw scheme. The best I ever had. You give me the fiddle and I give you Kerry.

'Think of the advantages. Once you are going out with Kerry, everybody will want to be your friend because she is immensely popular and any man she chooses to go out with must be a fairly desirable specimen. Virtually

overnight you will be transformed from a lonely and pathetic creature, despised by all, into a hip young man about town with a cool girlfriend. Instead of wallowing about in an armchair every night watching baseball and sex

programmes you will be able to turn up at gigs and nightclubs with Kerry on your arm, making everyone jealous.

She is a most attractive young woman, and highly desirable. Your happiness will be unbounded.

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'As for me, once I have the MacPherson Fiddle, I will be changed from a wanted outlaw into Scotland's most

popular fairy. Returning home with such a famous and long-lost item will stun and amaze the whole of fairydom and more than make up for the accident with the banner. It will sink into the heads of even the ignorant MacLeods that I am a fairy to be feted and honoured, rather than chased with knives and claymores over Ben Lomond.'

Heather shuddered at the memory of this particularly unpleasant incident.

'And even it if doesn't sink into their heads, such a heroic act would place me under the protection of Mavis, the Scottish Fairy Queen. I would be safe and welcome everywhere.'

Heather glowed at the thought of returning in triumph to her clan lands round Tomatin. If the famous and revered MacPherson Fiddle was returned to Scotland by her, a MacKintosh, it would shut the MacPhersons up in a

spectacular manner, and keep them in their proper place for ages to come. She might even be able to get the

judges' decision at the junior fiddling contest re-examined, forcing them to admit that her version of

'Tullochgorum' was better than Morag's.

And for another thing, Dinnie dating Kerry would upset Morag no end. The way Morag had been able to brag that her human friend was popular, attractive and a bundle of fun while Heather's was a sort of human slug had been most annoying. What would Morag say when her popular attractive friend fell hopelessly for the majestic Dinnie MacKintosh, pride of his clan?

Dinnie agreed to the bargain; Heather chuckled in anticipation.

Kerry crossed the road to the theatre. Morag picked the lock and they sneaked in. Once inside Kerry destroyed all the props for
A Midsummer Night's Dream.
She sliced up the costumes with a knife and broke all the scenery with a hammer.

'Feeling better?' asked Morag, back at the flat.

'A little,' replied Kerry. 'Now, what should I pin in my hair? A rose or a carnation?'

Morag gave this her deepest consideration, but it was a tough question.

'What flower do you need next?'

They were pressing on with the alphabet in the hope that they would somehow recover the most important flower.

Kerry consulted her book.

'A bright orange Eschscholzia. Grows in California. That shouldn't be too difficult.'

Heather journeyed down to the small park in Houston Street to give the matter of Dinnie's romance her best

consideration.

Below her on the street groups of young people wandered by on their way to a gig at the Knitting Factory.

Studying them, Heather appreciated that they were not really the same as the young people she had been

acquainted with in her small village.

Perhaps I should do a little background research before deciding on how to bring them together, she thought. I am in a strange city and I do not want to waste my time getting Dinnie to do all the wrong things. For instance, a gift of oatcakes, while guaranteed to win over a Highland fairy, may not have the same potency in New York. I will need to plan carefully.

Pleased with her astute reasoning, she fluttered into the air and headed off to do a little research.

Dinnie, unusually, never ate out. He did not like to waste money in restaurants but bought the cheapest things he could fry easily on his little cooker. He passed a quiet evening eating corned-beef hash and watching quiz shows and wondered if Heather could indeed do as she promised. Although he had no intention of admitting it to

Heather, he had never had a girlfriend: It did not seem possible that his first one would be the much sought-after Kerry.

In the happy aura created by Heather and Morag's presence, the two tramps on the stairs passed into deep dreams of pleasant places, places so wondrous that they did not want to come back.

'Hi, Dinnie,' said Heather, performing a happy somersault on the window-sill. 'I'm back. I have considered the matter and I have it well in hand.' Dinnie blushed.

'And,' said Heather, bounding on to Dinnie's shoulder, 'I have worked out a complete plan of action. Guaranteed to make Kerry fall in love with you.' Dinnie sneered.

'Don't sneer. I can do it. I made you play a difficult strathspey, didn't I? A next-to-impossible task, your playing file:///Users/lisa/Downloads/Martin%20Millar%20-%20The%20Good%20Fairies%20of%20New%20York.html

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being what it was. Well, I can get you Kerry.'

Heather hopped right on to Dinnie's head, which he particularly hated, and peered down over his forehead.

'Now do not think, Dinnie, that I am underestimating the problem. I am well aware that the chances of you

capturing Kerry's heart would seem to be extremely slim. Possibly nonexistent. She is, after all, a highly desirable young lady with practically everything going for her, while you are a fat lump without any notably attractive features.' 'Thanks a lot,' muttered Dinnie.

'Also, do not think that I am unaware of the social mores of New York. I am. I know that a gift of oatcakes is not going to have the profound effect here that it might among the fairies of my village. I had one of my most

pleasant ever experiences in Cruickshank after taking a fellow fairy four oatcakes and a jar of honey. Three weeks of uninterrupted sex and debauchery in a quiet cave. Wonderful. However, things are different here. Kerry is a young rock and roller and we have to act accordingly.'

She leapt down on to the table, red and golden hair streaming, face beaming.

'And how do I know all this?' she demanded. 'I'll tell you how I know all this. I have spent all afternoon spying on Kerry and her dumb friend Morag, and all evening in the hip cafés of Avenue A listening to the fashionable young people and reading rock and roll magazines. I know what she likes and I know how to make you into it. All that is required is for you to do as I say.'

Dinnie remained silent. He was unwilling to believe it. Heather exchanged a few words of gossip with a cockroach that was scuttling its way past the cooker, picking up scraps. The cooker, uncleaned for years and utterly filthy, was a fertile hunting ground.

'So, Dinnie, here is the bargain. I promise to make Kerry fall in love with you. In return you give me the

MacPherson Fiddle. Do you agree?'

Dinnie agreed, even when Heather further informed him that from now on he must do precisely as she instructed, or she would regard the bargain as broken and depart with the fiddle.

'Anyone breaking a bargain with a fairy renders themselves liable to almost anything.'

The fairy peered out the window.

'Oh, no,' she cried. 'I can't believe it. Two more tramps have died on the steps.'

Dinnie did not react.

'Do something, Dinnie.'

'What?'

'Phone up whoever you phone in New York when someone dies. I hate the way they just lie there.'

Dinnie grunted that it was fine with him if they lay there all year.

'Dinnie. Listen well. From what I have seen of Kerry, apart from being a friend to the accursed MacPherson, she is a kind, warm human being. No doubt she will like men who are also kind, warm human beings. It therefore

follows that you are going to become a kind, warm human being. Failing that, you are going to pretend to be one.

So get on the phone.' Dinnie did as he was told.

Morag hopped in Kerry's window with an Eschscholzia bloom and a troubled look.

'Found this on a flower stall in Midtown,' she muttered, then proceeded to tell Kerry a sorry tale.

'I saw a young child crying after dropping her lollipop in the gutter. Naturally I materialised in front of her to cheer her up. In Scotland this would have met with total approval, shouts of glee from the child and suchlike.