27. Overloaded

“Ufff! Arrghh!”

Alpin had a dilemma. The sack of lemon drops the apothecary had given him was as large as a two year old giant.Carrying it home through the woods during a snow storm was being no mean task. He had tried dragging it behind him, but the pebbles and rocks on the ground had made a hole in the bag and some of the candy had fallen out. Also, the bag was getting soggy. As was the candy.

“I’ll have to sacrifice some of the candy if I want to reach home tonight. But I don’t want to do that. So I’ll have to sit under a tree and eat it all up. Then I won’t be able to move for a while and I will freeze while I wait to digest all this and be buried under the snow.  I’m a child, so someone will have to come searching for me, but being under the white blanket, chances are they won’t find me until I thaw by Easter. That means I will miss getting all my Christmas presents.”

Thinking of this made him feel so sorry for himself that he began to cry.

“It’s alright, Alpin! We´ve found all the stuff you’ve lost! We have it here with us to give to you!”

My sister Heather didn’t just mean the trail of candy. The first thing Alpin had done when he realized how loaded he was was to abandon the items Michael had sent him to the apothecary’s for. My sisters and I, knowing these items were medicine, and that one doesn’t take medicine unless one needs to, had bothered to retrieve what Alpin had discarded, meaning to take these things to whoever was too ill to have fetched them his or herself.

“Stop sniffling and get on your feet, will you, Alpin?” scolded my other sister, Thistle.  “We’ll help you get home, but we have to get home too.”

Like Heather, Thistle is very pretty, but in a different way. She has large green eyes and purple, pink or yellow hair, depending on the clothes she wears. But she scares people because she  is impatiently practical and too often seems to be cross and is prone to scold. Thistle gives the impression of being wild and capable of stinging. This impression is correct. Still, when it comes to defending those she loves, she proves she has a fierce heart of gold, as golden as a golden lion.  

Though they had come to his rescue, Alpin was not pleased to see my sisters.

“Did you eat any of my candy?” asked Alpin accusingly. “You know you shouldn’t have. You’ll have to replace that. You mustn’t think I was giving all I left behind away. I meant to come back for it tomorrow.”

Before we could answer to the charge of thieving candy, a strange sound, magical as only that of a tiny wooden organ in a snow-covered forest can be, filled the suddenly rarified air. And then a choir of wee voices joined the music, to sing wistfully.  

“The holly and the ivy only want to live in peace

 And the fir trees and the pine trees feel you’re treating them amiss!

The mistletoe should be cut only by druids’ hands in a moonlit grove at midnight where the fay may safely dance!

We’re glad you all love these plants,it’s ancestral to have them around

But you all should live by forests and let them grow on freedom’s ground!

They shouldn’t be bred in cages to be sold in huge shopping malls,

 Supermarkets and gas stations, the very idea apalls!

Don’t choke them with spray paint, paste and glitter, fake snow and stuff,

And don’t electrocute the poor trees with Christmas lights, don’t be so rough!

Alright, you guys, it’s Christmas, go out and do some good!

Don’t put tomorrow in the garbage, what today should be in the wood!”

And then the singers showed themselves and  burst into louder, brisker singing:

“We wish you a sane Christmas!

We wish you a sane Christmas!

We wish you a sane Christmas!

But we want to be here next year!”

“Why, you are the Minced Forest Leafy Choral! I’ve heard about you!” cried Heather, clapping enthusiastically.

Ten little leafies and their organ player, black from the damp winter, bowed stiffly from the waist.They were all members of a tribe that tend to take the shape of samaras, dry winged fruit. My sisters and I shrunk to their sizes to be on equal terms with them. Alpin shrunk too, but only to bawl them out.

“It’s winter! You’re leaves! You’re supposed to be dead! Not messing with the peace of the forest screeching some weird song with all your measley might! Besides, you suck! You are out of tune! The words don’t rhyme well enough! The lyrics don’t fit with the music and I-”

“Have a heart, Alpin! It’s Christmas! Or I’ll pop you like a cork!”

Like I said before, Thistle may not look it, but she is tough. Snorting through her delicate nostrils, her purple hair standing on end like spikes, she would have made her threat good.     

“Being a choral, you must know a lot of songs,” said Thistle. Then she nudged me with her elbow and said, “Ask them, Arley!”

“Do you know any of the songs a leprechaun named Fergus MacLob O’Toora sings?” I asked.

                    

           

“Hmm. A fine Irish tenor he is,” they nodded. “Yes, we do know Fergus. He’s sung with us a time or two.” And then they added suspiciously, “What would you be wanting with the leprechaun?”

“I’ve an allergy, and the apothecary Mr. Henbeddestyr Parry says I should sing one of this leprechaun’s songs to make it better.”

                         

“Fergus is my uncle,” said Alpin. “And he should be out with a search party trying to find me before I freeze. But, yes, it’s more likely he’ll be singing too, at some tacky  pub. What is it with everybody that they have all taken to bawling lately?”

“Alpin,” said Thistle, “we can do each other a favor. Lead us to your uncle’s pub and we’ll help you carry your load there.”

“It’s not a bad idea. Except that I don’t want any of  you touching my candy. I wouldn’t mind giving Heather a piece or two, though. She doesn’t look as if she eats much. Are you anorexic, Heather?”

“No, she’s not!” snapped Thistle before Heather could answer. “She eats all her vegetables! Give me that!” And she snatched Alpin’s overloaded bag from him and slung it on her shoulder despite being more wiry than our sister, who is sometimes considered pleasingly plump. “Get going!”

As Alpin had said, it was not a bad idea Thistle had had. But since a great deal of effort had been put into ensuring that Alpin be ignorant of the sites of pubs, he could not take us to his uncle. 

Heather drew out her pocket crystal ball.These work like mobile phones and are just as good for emergencies. She had not been introduced to Fergus, so she did not try to contact him directly. She entered a web called Fairy Query.There some kind soul might answer  a question asked.  

                                

  

This time the kind soul was Luxviminda, the salmonkeeper. She said Fergus could be found at the inaguration of a new pub. She herself had been invited to this event and was on her way there. She did more than give Heather instructions on how to get there. She popped right out of the crystal ball and took us to the pub herself.