"We're not getting across that on foot," said Meg.
They were on the beach, looking over the sea. Deirdre was shifting
from foot to foot, looking like she was seriously planning to attempt
running across the sea.
"Look for a boat?" said Fia.
"Beg for a boat," said Tally.
"Ahem," said a voice from the trees.
Everyone whirled around.
There was one of the men with long white beards, in the shade of a
big oak tree. "We will give you a boat," said the man, "if
it gets you away from this place faster."
"I'm being shown the door," said Meg. "Is that it?
After I got rid of that horrible monster} for you?"
"There are [So the forest will have an energetic spot for a while. No need to thank me. in the wake of your
passage!" said the man with the white beard. "I'm getting
complaints from multiple farmsteads about their roofs being blown
off! You turned this peninsula into an island! We took a vote and
decided it was better if you didn't come back."
Deirdre shrugged.
"We are terribly sorry," said Meg. "And I wish
there was a way we could make it up to you – "
"You can make it up to us by getting the hell out of here,"
said the man with the white beard. He clapped his hands, and behind
him a gaggle of old men with long white beards appeared from the
trees, carrying a boat.
"Perfect," said Meg. "We'll row home in no time." The men with white beards set it down on the sand, whereupon Meg
realized it was a sailboat. "Oh come on! I
wanted to get home quickly!"
"Best to cool your head," said Tally. "You both
have caused enough damage with your running around. And there's
things we need to talk about once we're safely out to sea anyhow."
Meg grumbled and rumbled, but she also knew she wasn't going to be
running across the waves.
So she found herself sitting at the rudder, as the boat ambled
over the gentle sea. Deirdre had hold of the sail, Fia was at the
prow waiting for the chance to spot the far shore, and Tally was
sitting there twiddling his thumbs and casting glances back the way
they had come. Meg could see on Deirdre's face as much frustration as
she herself felt. Whoever this woman was, she was someone after Meg's
own heart.
After a long while, Tally said, "Alright. So about bending
the rules here."
"Deirdre's not allowed to talk," said Meg. "Big
deal. That hand-shaping thing earlier, that was sign language, wasn't
it?"
Deirdre nodded.
"Then we have our loophole, Tally. She isn't talking."
"Technically," said Tally, and he glanced behind Meg
again. "I mean she's talking with her hands."
Deirdre waved her hand, as if to say, "Sitting right here."
"Of course," said Tally, "I should never be so rude
as to omit you from a conversation." And then he made a complex
series of gestures with his hands, which Deirdre responded to in
kind.
"I sure would like to know what you two are saying,"
said Meg.
"That's precisely what Deirdre wants you to learn," said
Tally. "So, since we have some time on our hands, ha ha ha, I
can teach you – Fia, you pay attention too – the basic signs, and
you can communicate with your girlfriend."
"She's not my – um – " Meg met Deirdre's eyes. The
woman looked impatient. "Are you?"
"Now I'm paying attention," said Fia. "This could get interesting if these two can't figure out how to communicate. Think of the drama!"
"Not the kind of story I want to record," said Tally, glaring at Fia. "So, we're nipping that problem in the bud. Let us begin with the basics..."
And so, as the waves moseyed on by, Deirdre made one sign after
another, with Tally translating, and Meg and Fia tried to copy each
sign as best they could, each of them handing off the rudder to the
other as they gestured. Some of the signs were easy, like "water",
and "Fire", and "I", and "you", and
"love". Easy enough for Fia, at least – Meg had trouble,
because she was older and had dignity. That got in the way of trying
new things. She felt foolish making all these gestures. She felt even
more foolish having to change her expressions for emphasis. And when
the signs got more complicated, or when it was time to put signs
together, Meg fumbled and bumbled her way through it.
Especially when she had to copy Deirdre in signing "I love
you." It seemed like it ought to be said in complete sincerity,
and Meg could not believe she loved Deirdre – not yet, at least.
Not yet. She was still getting to know this curious Fairie woman. My goodness, Deirdre was an incredibly patient teacher. Hadn't said a word of scorn
about – hadn't signed a word of scorn about Meg's terrible form.
So Meg decided that if she could not sign her love, the least she
could do was try much harder to get past her mental block and learn
the signs, in order that she could actually communicate with this
woman, without needing Tally around.
As the land approached, Deirdre sighed, and signed, "Good. Good. You get
it, a little." She took Meg's hand and kissed it, and, signing
not another word, turned to gaze upon a familiar land.
"Am I getting it?" said Meg aloud.
Deirdre glanced back at Meg and raised an eyebrow, and turned back
to the land.
Tally nudged Meg. "Don't quit while you're ahead, woman.
Speak to her the way she needs."
Meg tapped Deirdre on the shoulder. This time when the woman
turned around, she had a wry grin on her face. She raised her
eyebrows, as if awaiting Meg's word.
"Thank…you," signed Meg.
Deirdre grinned, and then she kissed Meg on the nose.
Meg shook her head. "Why?" she said aloud.
Deirdre raised her eyebrows again and tilted her head, as if
confused.
"Sorry," signed Meg. "Why?"
Deirdre frowned. "Why what?" she signed.
"Why…there is much why. Why you? Why now? Why love me? Why
bother?"
Deirdre laughed. "Too much why," she signed. "So
you think. But. I remember you. That answers all."
"Why did I forget?"
Deirdre frowned. "You mean, how?"
Meg shook her head. "No. Why?"
"Because you loved me," signed Deirdre.
"I am sorry," said Meg aloud. "I'm sorry that I
can't say the same right now."
Deirdre crossed her arms.
"Sorry," signed Meg.
"Better," signed Deirdre. Then she turned back to the
land, and made no more conversation as the shore approached, nor
signed a word when they fetched up on the sand. Nor did Meg attempt
to sign a word to her, though she nearly had cause to – for as they
stepped onto land, she could see in a nearby tree a crow giving her
an odd look. Instead of tapping Deirdre on the shoulder, she glared at the crow, hard enough that it ruffled its feathers and flew away.
Hopefully it wasn't about to rat on her and Deirdre. If any divine authority came around demanding that Deirdre wasn't allowed to communicate this way, Meg would...she would stomp them flat. And then throw them into the sea.
Hopefully it would not come to that, whether soon or ever.