238. Feeseepkee

 238. Feeseepkee

“How old are you?” I asked the not so mini mini Murkee.

“Two next Saturday,” said the kid.

That meant he was almost two years old. Two years after a baby has popped up somewhere in our world, either he has found parents that are bringing him up properly or he is a thing of wilderness.

“Why do you look like you are not a day over forty?” I asked suspiciously.

“I’m big for my age,” shrugged the mini Murkee. “When I am underground, I am six feet tall. And I haven’t had time to shrink entirely to my outside size. I wanted to see who was out here first.”

“He’s cautious,” nodded Michael approvingly.

“Can you do it now?”

The mini Murkee nodded and suddenly looked like a kid of seven. He said this was his outdoors size.

“Why do you look like you are seven?”

“I know I look seven, but I’m to be two. I can’t do any better than this. Sorry.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just that way! Why are you smallish?”

I could have said because so was my father, but I ignored his comment on my being closer to short than to tall.

“And where have youbeen all your life?” I asked.

“Mostly in there, with my ex dad.”

The mini murkee pointed at the mound, which was still completely taken over by the Murkee’s face.

“Your ex dad?”

“He doesn’t want me any longer. My size annoys him. It’s never too comfortable in an underground box, and two in one is a crowd. ”

“That’s enough questions. Do ye want yer mate back or don’t ye?” growled the Murkee. “That’s the only important question.”

“Probably yes, but I have to know what kind of trouble I’m going to have if I ransom him.”

“Yes, he does,” nodded Michael O’Toora. “One must take precautions.”

“There won’t be any trouble,” the mini Murkee assured us. “At least none from me. I’m quite sedentary. You find me a mound to sleep under and that’s all I will do most times.”

When Alpin came out of the mound through the old Murkee’s left ear, I took him aside and asked him if he had seen anyone else down there.

“Nobody. And certainly not Candle. There’s nothing there but earth and roots and beetles and worms and a rectangular space where the Murkee fits like in a coffin when he’s inside the mound. I want to go home, Arley. NOW!”

I decided to take his word for it, at least for the moment, and not harass the old Murkee invading his mound, and all four of us, the fourth being the almost two year old Murkee, transported ourselves to the front door of the Dullahan home.

“Maybe we should have stopped by my house to get you cleaned up,” said Michael to his cousin Alpin before knocking. “Your mum will be stunned when she sees all that earth on you.”

Alpin shook some earth from his hair and slapped some more off his coat and trousers and said, “This is nothing. She’ll be shocked, she will, when she hears I’ve spent the night dancing with an old man in a tanga.”

“A loincloth,” Michael said rapidly. “That’s the usual garb for wild elders. Nothing indecent about it except in the minds of the intolerant. And Aislene doesn’t need to hear the details.”

“She’ll be surprised too, to know that now Arley has a son,” said Alpin looking the young murkee over from head to toe. “Should I congratulate you, Arley?”

“What? I don’t have any such thing!” I cried.

“He’s underage and you took charge of him.  You asked him if he wanted to come with us, and he said yes. He’s your son!” snapped Alpin at me. “Don’t try to evade your duties as a father!”

“It’s like you just said. I said with us. I didn’t ask him if he wanted to come with me. We brought him here with us because of you. If he has to belong to someone, it should be to you.”

“Are you saying you and I have a child together? Wait till my mum and dad hear this!” yelled Alpin.

“Is that kid for grabs?” asked an anxious voice from above. We looked up and there was Branna, looking out the window of the room she had shared with her sister when they lived with their parents.

“Don’t leave! I’ll be right down.”

And she was.

“Can I have him?” she asked us.

I remembered that Branna was desperate to find a kid for herself and her husband. She couldn’t believe how being married as she was to a fertility demon no kids appeared to either of them for all they didn’t leave a stone unturned wherever they went.

“I am so wanting a child that I was about to order one. But you know how they say that ordered kids are weirder than the ones that pop up before one on their own. My husband was an ordered kid, and he’s a nice man, but there are this little somethings that are weird about him, aren’t there? I mean, there’s nothing bad. I don’t want to frighten this child. We are very nice people, darling. Naturally, we will be especially so to you.”

Fairies that want kids and don’t come upon any that want to be theirs can order kids from professional kidbringers like the Parisian storks or the cabbage or sprout patch fairies, or from someone like Lucina. My mother ordered my sister Valentine from Lucina and for a while there we thought she wasn’t quite normal because of the fuss about how she wouldn’t speak to us and wouldn’t say her name. Fortunately, she didn’t end up rejecting us like other ordered kids have been known to do to their parents.

“He’s old!” protested Alpin. “And probably ugly. We can’t tell because of all the dirt there is on him. It needs to be scarped off with a knife. That’s because this kid is a Murkee.”

“Don’t listen to my brother, dear heart,” said Branna to the Murkee. “He’s just jealous. All you need is a little scrubbing, and I’m sure you’ll be beautiful as any. You already are so to me. Murkees aren’t allergic to water are they?”

The kid shook his head meaning that no, Murkees had no problem with water.

Branna turned towards the house and shouted toward it, “Richie! Come down! Surprise! There’s a kid here you can ask to be your son!”

Uncle Richearth came down the stairs in a jiffy. Through the open door we saw him actually slide down the banister. He glanced at us and saw the kid and went and knelt before him on one knee and peered into his face.

“If you don’t mind being a Murkee, I don’t mind your being one either. I’m not put off by earth. I know a lot about soil. I’ve got thousands of  acres and acres of land round my home. We should be able to find you a proper mound somewhere, even if I can’t remember right now if we have one. If we don’t, I’ll build you one to your taste wherever you like on the grounds.”

“Build him one is what you do have to do,” said Branna, “but right next to our bedroom window. I want him to feel comfortable, but I also need to watch him.”

“You’re making a mistake here. This kid is old!” protested Alpin. “Look at the size of him!”

I explained to the Richearths that the mini Murkee was only almost two, which is old for a parentless fairy kid, but there are cases like his. I think they would have asked him to be their son even if he had been as old as their remotest ancestor.

“Ask him if he would like to be our child, Richie,” said Branna.

“Haven’t I done that already? No? Ah! Formally! Well, of course I will! I feed and support everybody on this island, don’t I?  Why wouldn’t I support this kid? I’m already doing it anyway.”

“What a nice person you are!” said Mrs. Dullahan to her son-in-law, appearing at the door with one of her ravishing smiles on her delicate face. “I love the idea of being a grandmother again! Maybe I’ll have better luck with this grandson. Ibys only has eyes for his Valentine and no time to allow anyone else to spoil him.”

Aislene went up to the Murkee and looked deep into his eyes with her own green ones  and he was so charmed – the right word is bewitched, I fear -  that he didn’t even wait for Richie to ask him if he would have him for a father.

“My name is Feeseepkee and yes, I would love to be part of your family!” he said.

“Well, at least this is one problem child off your paternal hands, Arley,” said Alpin. And before I could snap at him, he turned to his brother-in-law and said, “This kid will be two next Saturday. Give him a generous party, will you? And make the birthday cake a coconut macaroon one. I’ve a hankering for that. By the way, Mum, where’s my breakfast? Make some for Arley and Michael too.”

“Of course!” said Miss Aislene, laying her soft han don my shoulder.

“Not me, thank you. I’d love to stay, but I really have to go. There’s something I can’t put off doing any longer.”

“Ah,” said Alpin, “that! Don’t you worry. We’ll do it while we’re eating. Mum, fetch Dad’s megahorn. We’re going to ask the world to find Candle Brightfire, who’s gone missing.”

“ALLLLLLLLPIIIIIIII!” I cried.