stone-columned well. She’d only been down there with Bradley and his bragging before; now she had two little guides, funny-looking and plastic, to take her down the mystical stairway, and she felt both like laughing and crying at the two-foot boyfriends she’d found.
As she walked with the gnomes she started to feel funny, as though her heart were beating louder; she could feel the pulsing through the gnomes themselves, as if they themselves had grown little hearts of their own. Had she been wrong about the mushrooms? She didn’t think that was it; Marguerite felt that she was probably just overwhelmed by loneliness.
The trip down was long, a hundred and twenty steps if she remembered it right, and she paused at each of the platforms, not that she’d admit that she needed to catch her breath so often. She’d once been an athlete, but now she just felt like a freckled cream puff.
She reached the bottom half-winded, and walked out from the dark stairwell into the marble floor in the middle. She looked straight up, past the rows of stairs and stone columns, up to the cloudy spring sky; it had started to rain lightly, and the drops of water fell like mist on their way down to the deep.
“It feels magical,” she said. She realized that she was either talking to nobody or to two plastic gnomes.
Marguerite put them both down on the floor, placing each on a red arrow of their own, pointing to what she thought were east and south.
“I’ll take the north,” she said as she stepped onto an arrow of her own. She dropped down to one knee and could feel her eyes welling up with tears. She felt like an idiot.
“You’re upset,” someone said. A warm voice... a friendly, older man.
“A little,” she replied. She looked around but could not see him. She found it unnerving to be talking to an unknown man hiding in the shadows.
“You are beautiful... you shine like an angel from heaven.”
“You’re weirding me out, sir. I... I can’t see you.”
“Look to your feet, my darling.”
She looked down, and there she saw the little orange gnome looking back up at her, the plastic now gone and his smile now real.
“It’s magic, dumbass,” the other gnome said, his voice hard and unfriendly. He was just as alive but not nearly as pleasant.
“I think it’s the mushrooms,” Marguerite said. “I need a new field guide.”
“Tell me of love, my angel,” the orange gnome said. “Tell me of the love you want for your life.”
“Tell us what you like to do for kicks,” the brown gnome said.
They were alone down there, as far as she could tell, so she told them what she wanted. “I just want to be in love... it doesn’t matter who it is. It’s the feeling I want... not the boy or anything. Well, okay... not Rafael...”
“Would you love me?” the orange gnome asked. “Could you love a humble creature of the soil?”
“You can have us both,” the brown gnome said with little enthusiasm. “The two of us, right here, right now. No waiting.”
“That’s very nice,” Marguerite said, truly flattered, “but I’m not the kind of girl who goes for that type of thing.”
“We’ve been waiting forever for you, Marguerite,” the orange gnome said. “For as long as there’s been magic in these mountains we’ve been waiting.”
“It’s more or less our destiny to make love to you,” the brown gnome said. “So it’s easier if you just say ‘yes’”.
“I need to go,” she said. “Some friends are waiting for me at the Chapel.”
She felt the grip of four small hands on her ankles. Her first instinct was to kick the dirty gnomes as hard as she could, but for some reason she didn’t. She could have ended it there, threw them off and stomped on their little heads, but she didn’t.
She wanted something to happen.
Soon they were both hugging her with their entire bodies, holding her firmly and amorously... or possibly humping her legs.
“Love us, Marguerite,” the orange gnome
As she walked with the gnomes she started to feel funny, as though her heart were beating louder; she could feel the pulsing through the gnomes themselves, as if they themselves had grown little hearts of their own. Had she been wrong about the mushrooms? She didn’t think that was it; Marguerite felt that she was probably just overwhelmed by loneliness.
The trip down was long, a hundred and twenty steps if she remembered it right, and she paused at each of the platforms, not that she’d admit that she needed to catch her breath so often. She’d once been an athlete, but now she just felt like a freckled cream puff.
She reached the bottom half-winded, and walked out from the dark stairwell into the marble floor in the middle. She looked straight up, past the rows of stairs and stone columns, up to the cloudy spring sky; it had started to rain lightly, and the drops of water fell like mist on their way down to the deep.
“It feels magical,” she said. She realized that she was either talking to nobody or to two plastic gnomes.
Marguerite put them both down on the floor, placing each on a red arrow of their own, pointing to what she thought were east and south.
“I’ll take the north,” she said as she stepped onto an arrow of her own. She dropped down to one knee and could feel her eyes welling up with tears. She felt like an idiot.
“You’re upset,” someone said. A warm voice... a friendly, older man.
“A little,” she replied. She looked around but could not see him. She found it unnerving to be talking to an unknown man hiding in the shadows.
“You are beautiful... you shine like an angel from heaven.”
“You’re weirding me out, sir. I... I can’t see you.”
“Look to your feet, my darling.”
She looked down, and there she saw the little orange gnome looking back up at her, the plastic now gone and his smile now real.
“It’s magic, dumbass,” the other gnome said, his voice hard and unfriendly. He was just as alive but not nearly as pleasant.
“I think it’s the mushrooms,” Marguerite said. “I need a new field guide.”
“Tell me of love, my angel,” the orange gnome said. “Tell me of the love you want for your life.”
“Tell us what you like to do for kicks,” the brown gnome said.
They were alone down there, as far as she could tell, so she told them what she wanted. “I just want to be in love... it doesn’t matter who it is. It’s the feeling I want... not the boy or anything. Well, okay... not Rafael...”
“Would you love me?” the orange gnome asked. “Could you love a humble creature of the soil?”
“You can have us both,” the brown gnome said with little enthusiasm. “The two of us, right here, right now. No waiting.”
“That’s very nice,” Marguerite said, truly flattered, “but I’m not the kind of girl who goes for that type of thing.”
“We’ve been waiting forever for you, Marguerite,” the orange gnome said. “For as long as there’s been magic in these mountains we’ve been waiting.”
“It’s more or less our destiny to make love to you,” the brown gnome said. “So it’s easier if you just say ‘yes’”.
“I need to go,” she said. “Some friends are waiting for me at the Chapel.”
She felt the grip of four small hands on her ankles. Her first instinct was to kick the dirty gnomes as hard as she could, but for some reason she didn’t. She could have ended it there, threw them off and stomped on their little heads, but she didn’t.
She wanted something to happen.
Soon they were both hugging her with their entire bodies, holding her firmly and amorously... or possibly humping her legs.
“Love us, Marguerite,” the orange gnome
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