36. Getting There is Half the Fun

“He should be here any minute. Is everyone ready?”

Michael kept the flyer with the schedule of Apple Island’s bargeman in his coat pocket. It had fallen to him to take us to this Isle of the Blessed.

Supposedly, this was because Alpin’s dad was rarely able to take a day off and Mrs. Dullahan too upset and tearful to show herself in public.

But I think they chose  Michael for this task because he is easygoing and diplomatic and known for rarely having trouble with anyone else.

Unlike the Dullahans. The very sight of them puts everyone else on guard. 

It was a fairly large group Michael was leading. Not just Alpin and I. Fiona and Branna also wanted to see their homes. And when Don Quijote heard we were to visit the spot where the legendary King Arthur rested, he begged to be allowed to join us. As for Sancho, how could he miss studying so well governed an island?

“How nice our teacher is!” sang Don Quijote and Sancho. “He takes us on marvellous field trips! Hooray for leprechaun teachers!”

“A word before we board the barge and head for Paradise,” said Michael sternly.  

“The purpose of this trip is to claim the Dullahan children’s houses and we want to get it done without causing the natives and ourselves any kind of fuss. These are the rules! No flirting!”

He looked meaningfully at the girls when he said that.

“Leave that for some other time. No stopping to make acquaintances! No dallying in the meadows or on the way to anywhere! No chasing the deer! No flattering the butterflies!”

Apple Island’s butterflies are possibly the most beautiful in both worlds. And they are immoderately fond of  hearing people tell them so, but we were forbidden to waste time flattering their egos. If one does this, they chase after one demanding more and more and more. It’s never over.

“No trying to net them and sell them back home! No business deals of any kind! They are strictly forbidden there.”

Michael glanced at Sancho, possibly because of his interst in ruling an island. 

“No grabbing the unicorns by their horns! They’re shy creatures and like to be the ones to chose whom they will approach. Usually, they will choose to approach other shy creatures. I don’t think shy applies to anyone but Arley and me, but should they come to you and nudge you, just pat them on the head a little and move away. And,”  it was Don Quijote Michael next fixed stern eyes on, “no listening to birds sing!”

“It could take centuries. Once one stops to hear the warbling, it is time that flies to another century before the birds fly away. No entering a fairy ring! Particularly absolutely no entering one of the four direcctional fairy rings. One can’t just dance one’s way out. The nine queens would have to assemble and vote to allow us to come out or not. No creating a fairy ring either.Whoever creates a fairy ring is responsible for those who get stuck in it!”

“How does one create a fairy ring?” asked Alpin. “Isn’t this something I should know?”

 Michael ignored his question.

“No drinking dandelion wine, nor mead, nor hydromel. Not even spring water.”

I think that was mostly meant for Sancho.

“And absolutely no eating or tasting local products! Not even the famous apple cider and doughnuts. This applies to everyone. People who taste the food there find it impossible to leave. They may never return home! I have to take you all back home safe and sound. So we’ll only eat and drink what we bring with us. Don’t even sniff the local products! No-”

“No fun!” said Branna. And everyone laughed.

“Do you want me to take you back home this minute?”

“No pestering the ferryman!” roared a deep voice before we could answer Michael’s question. “Or he’ll whack you with an oar and you’ll be knocked off the barge and fall into the waters of the golden waves and get torn apart by the sharks of the pearly teeth.”

“Erh...Hi!” said Michael.“We’re five fairy people and two book characters and...a fridge.”

“What in the name of psychopomps is that?” growled the bargeman, staring aghast at Alpin’s mammoth fridge. Shimmering white in the sunlight and decked with colourful notes and magnets, it is large enough to feed an army of five hundred starving men of heroic proportions.

“That’s my cousin’s fridge. It has to travel with us because it’s vital for his mental stability.”

“You are out of your mind if you think I’m letting that metal mountain on my barge. I’d sooner ferry Mont Blanc. How did you even move it here?”

“If you look closely, you’ll see there are fifty pairs of leprechaun shoes beneath it. They’ve carried it all the way here. Bravely, too.”

“So I see! And without getting squashed,” said Barrinthus. That was the brawny, brown bearded, red-eyed boatman’s name. “How did you get hold of fifty pairs?”

“I borrowed them from the members of my father’s chess club. They’re having a marathon contest and don’t need them while they are concentrating on playing. What I bought for them to wear meanwhile is Chinese embroidered slippers.”

“I’m impressed. But that monster isn’t going to sink my barge. The shoes can carry it back home. No excessive excess baggage!”

“Leprechaun shoes can walk on water. They can float too, and always in the right direction. Maybe we can chain the fridge to the mast and drag it behind us, pushed and guided by the leprechaun shoes. It is waterproof. And large things tend to float well. When we get to the other shore, we´ll have to be careful it doesn’t get stuck in the sand. The shoes will have to carry the fridge again shortly before we reach land.”

“Yo o heave ho! Yo o heave ho!” sang the leprechaun shoes as they carried the fridge into deep water. Once it was chained and afloat, they leapt onto the barge.

“Those shoes will have to pay a ticket a pair. It’s like carrying fifty more people,” said Barrinthus.

“Charge me half price as if they were kids under seven and I’ll pay their fare,” sighed Michael. “To have them float-trot behind is too much to ask for.”

“Done,” said Barrinthus,“because you have my sympathy.” And he eyed Alpin meaningfully.

“All aboard!” shouted Barrinthus. “Barge departing for Apple Island in seven seconds! That’s a lucky number!”

“Yo o heave ho! Yo o heave ho!” sang the leprechauns’ shoes, all neatly lined up in rows of ten. “Ey, ukhnyem! Ey, ukhnyem!”

“No singing the Volga Boatmen’s Song! Stop sqeuaking and don’t even think of dancing an Irish jig aboard. I get to do the entertaining on this trip. My show begins in three seconds. It is also interactive. You all get to shout Yay whenever I pause to breath!”

Somehow, Barrrinthus turned on celestial music. We couldn’t see where it came from, but it was a fine accompaniment to the  lyrical litany he began to recite.

“Next and only stop is Apple Island, blessed isle of the most fortunate, mirthful land of youth renewed and youth eternal, land where perfection is possible, chalice of universal love, beating heart of two universes, creature of our mother’s spells!”

“Yay!” we all shouted.

“Home of roaring furnaces and skilled blacksmiths! Land of able healers! Land of the resplendent lights where the rays of the sun converge with starlight to warm the elixir of life and heal anyone who doesn’t feel too well and is suggestible, which all of us here on this barge should be proud to be!”

The boatman glared at me. I pretended not to notice. But I spent the rest of the trip trying not to sneeze. Oh, and we all again shouted “Yay!” 

“Land of dreams and myths, floating legend, mirror of the stars, home of soul and spirit, asylum of retiree bards!”

“Yay!”

“Land without thorns, land without toil, land of rolling green hills and flowery, perfumed pastures, of greenhouses choke full of forests of bejeweled trees that bear golden apples, topaz pears and ruddy, pink peaches, of vines that give plump amethyst grapes, of shimmering berries that put rubies and blue beryl to shame!”

“Yay!”

“Resting place of living waters that sigh with pleasure and sing with delight and play harps of silver and gold sand with their wavy fingers of foam!”

“Yay!”

“Field of golden grains and kitchen with ovens where bread makes and bakes itself before dawn breaks, birthplace of the pink salmons of knowledge and black and brown and white and pastel colored fleecy sheep! Haven of shy unicorns hiding from extinction!”

“Yay!”

“Plain of joy and merriment, door to fiddler’s green, land of evensong, nest of larks and nightingales, lake where enamoured swans embrace but never sing swan songs!”

“Yay!”

“Land of hope and wishes come true, safe of the thirteen treasures and realm of the sisters nine, site of rainbow colored crystal cities, of glass castles and free brick and granite stone houses!”

“And free sheep and ponies, don’t be forgetting that! They’ve been promised!” Alpin added before we could shout yay again.

“We’ve arrived!”

“Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!”

And so we had.

“You have two minutes to get off. I’m way behind schedule. Remember to leave your swords and axes and other weapons that serve death or violence on board. We’ll return them later if this is a round trip. Leave your tongues too, if they’re venomous and you can’t control them.”

We all reached ground safely, and when we did, Don Alonso fell on his knees and kissed the earth. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. He was a moving sight to behold.

                    

Barrinthus nodded approvingly at the old knight and then coughed and said to Michael, leader of our expedition, “Remember to knock thrice on the strong door. Do it hopping on your left foot, covering both your ears and breathing only through your mouth.”

“What nonsese is that?” cried Michael. “I’ve never had to do any such thing before!”

Barrinthus grinned sheepishly. 

“The strong door is today behind those yews. Just pound on it a mite. See you later. Maybe. I’ll be here, but... will you?”

And he vanished into a sudden mist.