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Excerpt
Norse & Naughty
By Calliope Cage
“Tell me what to do?” I said, and realized that the other visitors must
think I was crazy, talking to stones. I was at a crossroads in my life
and needed to pick a direction, and I hoped the power of Stonehenge
could provide me with some guidance.
I sighed in frustration, and leaned against a pillar, seeking an answer
to my dilemma. Should I marry Jason or not? Did I love him enough? Could
I make a life with him, or wind up in a nasty divorce like my parents?
A fine misty rain began to fall, dimming the sun, and turning the
countryside into a Kincade painting of light. Great. My tee shirt was
already speckled oddly from the droplets of water, and my wretched
umbrella was in my car. I was thinking ahead as usual. This was Great
Britain, which means take your umbrella with you at all times. The other
visitors began to leave; the young mother with her two children
seemed ready to call it a day and go. Thank goodness. The baby in the
stroller was quietly sleeping, but the older child, a boy of about four
was a howling brat, given to tantrums and whining. I was glad to be left
in peace; solitude was what I needed now, anyway.
A butterfly flitted along from stone to stone, its’ wings shimmering as
it lit upon the pillar, mere inches from my face; tiny dewy drops
clinging to the delicate and fragile body. It was breathtakingly
beautiful. The butterfly’s gossamer wings fanned slowly, and began to
glow with an eerie glistening shine, like it was coated with pixie dust.
How curious. I reached out to touch it, and startled, it fluttered away
towards two upright pillars of stones to my left. It hovered for a
second; then incredibly simply vanished!
Having absolutely no idea where it had gone, I cautiously circled the
pair of enormous stones. The butterfly had completely disappeared. The
space between the two pillars shimmered like asphalt on a hot summer
day. I could see beyond them, but things looked different, altered
somehow, disjointed. Then, astonishingly I glimpsed a faint golden halo;
no it was a circle of gold metal, very dim at first, and then it
gradually grew a bit more distinct. Check that, not one ring, but at
least three thin circles of gold. They moved and writhed and twisted
around each other as if they were alive. It was the most incredible
thing I had ever seen. The circles hovered in the air, glowing softly.
How could that be possible? A hologram? How? I was alone here.
With trembling hand, I tentatively reached out to the shimmering
circles. My fingers tingled and shone with an iridescent blue glow.
Startled, I jerked my hand back, but the tingling in my fingertips
remained. I stared at the blue dust coating my fingers. Unnerved, I
wiped the dust off on my jeans. I still had feeling in my hands; all
seemed fine. I could still touch my thumb to each finger in quick
succession, so no manual dexterity had been lost. What could the dust
be? The golden circle was still visible, but fading. I had to get it.
Once again, with trembling fingers I reached out, turning my hand slowly
in the dust, mesmerized by the eerie blue haze, feeling in vain for the
hard metal of the circle. Inadvertently I leaned forward a bit. The
circle. I wanted it. It twisted, teasing me; I reached farther.
A warm rush of air greeted me. I screamed as I felt my body falling;
falling into a deep waterless well. Brilliant golden circles swirled and
twisted around me as I sank into nothingness.
* * * *
Part Two - The
Draupnir Ring
Chapter One
I hummed happily to myself; that darn show tune stuck in my brain like a
barbed fishhook in a Northern Pike. Mamma Mia was swirling around, and
had been all morning. Maybe that particular song was implanted because
Jason and I talked about starting a family last night. We planned on
getting married in July, and thought we would travel back to Toronto,
and have a very small wedding. We both have friends and family there,
but my parents went through a nasty divorce, and I couldn’t picture them
together in the same city, let alone at my wedding. Happily, Jason
suggested a very informal affair, more like a luncheon at which we would
say our ‘I dos’. Sounded like a plan to me, and I looked forward to
reconnecting with Gloria, my best friend from Toronto.
“Morning,” Miri said as she breezed in, the bell above the door tinkling
merrily. “It’s a beautiful spring day out there isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. I’m going to have my lunch out in the Troll Park.” I never
got tired of the quirkiness of the Troll Park. I mean really, it sounded
ludicrous, unless the town happened to be named Valhalla. There were
little Trolls everywhere in Valhalla. They were the town mascots: Trolls
on the town flag, Trolls in peoples gardens, wooden Trolls, ceramic
Trolls, Troll bumper stickers proudly saying, ‘Trolls Rule Valhalla’,
and even a small souvenir shop-‘Troll’s R Us’. I placed matching Trolls
on either side of the front door of my hair salon. Jason thought they
were too kitschy, but I wanted to blend in with the rest of the town,
instead of being the big city girl with a snobbish attitude.
“How many do we have today?” Miri asked, meaning of course; how many
heads of hair did she have to cut today.
“A couple this morning, and then the wedding party this afternoon.”
“Oh yeah, the Dennisons. I would never have an evening wedding, myself.
Mine were all day weddings,” she said.
“Humm, but you are looking for mister right number three, aren’t you? Or
maybe just mister right now?” I grinned at her.
“Yep to both questions. It’s a good thing you have Jason all hooked.
This is a small town and the pickins’ are kinda thin.”
The bell above the door tinkled again, and I turned to see if it was my
ten o’clock, but it was Hilda, the apprentice I hired three days ago.
She gave me the willies, and I wasn’t sure why. I was
uncharacteristically intimidated into hiring her; I was afraid she would
go postal if I didn’t. Blond and not quite pretty, she had a vulpine
cast to her features, a little narrow between the eyes, if you know what
I mean. I was sure I saw her somewhere before, but she swore she never
visited Toronto, and was new in Valhalla. Still, I would see her
reflection in the mirror and she reminded me of someone. It was
unsettling. She wasn’t showing much talent at hair dressing so far,
either; too taciturn to relate to the clients.
“You have a ten-thirty wash Hilda, and then the wedding party this
afternoon.” I didn’t expect her to respond, and sure enough she didn’t.
That girl wasn’t going to work out if she didn’t get an attitude
adjustment. I looked at Miri, and raised my eyebrows.
We busied ourselves with the everyday tasks in a hair salon; washing,
trimming, chatting up the customers: I loved every minute. My own shop
was what I always wanted.
“I’ve always planned to ask you, and kept getting side-tracked; what
made you pick a small town like Valhalla to set up shop?” Miri asked as
she set her client at her station, and began to comb out the wet hair.
“I was on holiday in Great Britain, and met a couple of…Norwegian
people.”
I noticed Hilda’s body stiffen, and I thought I heard her catch her
breath sharply.
“When I came back to Toronto, I Googled Valhalla, found a salon for
sale, and the rest as they say is history. Jason was ready to get out of
the big city, but I don’t think he was quite ready for such a small
town. He likes it now, though. He was a CPA in Toronto, and here he
manages a sports store. Now that is a quantum leap. He loves the
sporting goods. We go camping now, and fishing. He threatened to take me
hunting this fall, but I think I’ll have to pass on that experience.
Jason made these stations, installed the new sinks, and did all the
painting before we opened shop. It was his idea to set up the play area
for children in the back room. That used to be where the sun tan bed
was, but I didn’t want one of those things in my salon. Did I tell you
that Jason wants kids?” I smiled at Miri over the head of hair I was
curling.
Crash!
“Sorry,” Hilda muttered. “I dropped the coffee I was getting for Mrs.
Bennedict. I’ll get another after I clean up the mess.” She glared at me
like it was my fault she dropped the coffee.
What a sour puss. Definitely wasn’t going to work out. I planned on
speaking to her after work.
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