Thistle Down

She struggled and rolled again, loosening the bonds a tad more. In another minute she’d be able to jump up and punch him in the family jewels. That should incapacitate him long enough to get away.

“As I was saying, the boys I befriended were all gamers. They learned early on that hacking into another computer system to steal things was just another game. I showed them how to send themselves inside a computer game. They became addicted to the high of explosions. I strengthened their addiction with mushrooms.” He laughed and began unrolling the tape.

She fought to move her knees. Anything to get away from this madman.

Her left leg jerked up.

He caught her foot and pushed it higher, throwing her balance backward. “Oh, my, I do enjoy a feisty female. Later, dear. We’ll take a nice little flight together later.”

Then he used his free hand to expertly wrap the fibrous tape around and around her ankles.

“Anything you want to say before I close your mouth?”

She spat at him; a big gob of saliva splatted against his right eye.

“Too bad that’s all you can muster for the moment.” He slapped a long length of tape across her mouth and around her head, pulling and tangling her hair in its stickiness.

Thirty-four

THISTLE WATCHED DUSTY CAREFULLY after dinner. Her friend sat listlessly in the bay window, playing her music box over and over. It had returned to its normal tune. No Pixie magic or Pixie music left in it. The ballerina spun around and around, winding down slowly until the music ground ponderously through its last notes.

Dusty sat silently for a bit, letting tears slide down her cheeks. Then she turned the music box key and repeated the process.

The tinny notes irritated Thistle’s ears and disrupted her sense of life tuned to the music of wind and rain, and plants talking to bugs, and bugs whispering the news to trees.

Finally, after Dick had gone off to the bar to meet Chase, Thistle yanked the music box out of Dusty’s hands before the music completely stopped.

“You’ve had enough,” Thistle insisted.

“Give that back! I can’t lose it again. I can’t…”

“Then come and get it.” Thistle held the box high over her head.

Dusty turned her head away, staring out the window.

“You’ve been listless and boring all day.” Thistle curled up in the window seat facing Dusty. She stroked the soft covering the way humans petted cats.

“I… can’t talk about it.” Dusty reached for the music box again.

Thistle held it behind her back, out of Dusty’s reach.

“Tell me why you sit here hour after hour crying over this music box. I thought you’d shed all your tears over it when Chase fixed it.”

At the sound of Chase’s name, Dusty turned her face toward the window again.

Thistle saw a new spate of tears in the reflection.

“You and Chase had a fight. I saw it from the window.”

“Worse.”

“Worse? What could be worse than a fight?”

“A fight you can make up. He gave up on me just when I thought I’d grown enough to appreciate how much I love him. How I’ve loved him since we were small children. How I loved him even though he broke my music box. But then he fixed it for me and I thought we had a chance.”

“But you ruined it because Hay had bedazzled you and Joe offered you safe haven.”

“How… how did you know?”

“Because I’ve watched you for many, many years. Because I was your friend even when you were sick and no one came to visit you but me. Even when you let your cancer define who you were. Because I’m still your friend.”

“I don’t think even you can fix this.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You’ll have to do most of it yourself, though. Now tell me exactly what Chase said yesterday.”

“You aren’t going to try to talk me out of loving him? I might be better off with Joe because you love his daughters and because Chase was ungentle with you when he arrested you the day you landed in the fountain.”

“Well… Chase is still not my favorite person. But he’s learning to appreciate Pixies. Joe hasn’t. His daughters are wonderful friends, and they need me right now. But you need Chase. He’s the one you love. And if that’s what’s right for you, I have to be your friend and help you get him back. Not that I think he’s gone far, you understand. But he’s going to need a little prodding to get over his blue funk.”

“He… he said that friendship and trust are a two-way street. I have to prove to those who love me that I can be trusted and that I take seriously the responsibility of friendship.”

“You see, he loves you. He said so himself. I don’t think I even need any magic to push him back on the right path. You can do that all by yourself. All you have to do is…”

“Oh, Thistle, you are the best friend ever!” Dusty nearly fell off the window seat as she threw her arms around Thistle and hugged her tight.

The phone rang. Shrill and insistent.

“I’d better get that. There are a million details to settle before tomorrow night.”

Dusty grew very still the moment she answered the phone. “Hello, Ted. My mother told me to expect your call.”

Thistle squirmed. Another barrier between Dusty and Chase-her mother’s interfering pity dates. What could she do to stop this?

“No, I don’t think I can go to the Masque Ball with you. I’m chairing the fund-raiser this year and have too many responsibilities to volunteers and friends to properly pay attention to a date,” Dusty said stiffly. Her skin grew cold. Another lie Hay had told her. How had he found out about this delayed call? Oh, my God, he listened over the airwaves! Her vision started crowding in from the edges until all she could see was Thistle’s face.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” the tenor voice on the other end of the phone line sputtered. “My mother has been pressuring me for a month to call you because she doesn’t like my girlfriend. A pity date with you had to be better than listening to her whine.”

“Pity Date!” Dusty bit her lip until she drew blood. That small pain helped her focus, removed the gibbering ape that threatened to take control of her mind and her feet.

Run! it said over and over again. Run away from the cancer before you become the cancer. Run away from those who challenge you. Run away from those who only want to hurt you, judge you. Make you less than what you are. Everyone is lying to you. No one can tell the truth.

Hay lied. No one else did.

She ignored the voice, the voice of her cancer trying to protect her from herself. She’d beat the cancer, but not its control over her emotions. Resolutely she settled her shoulders and took a deep breath.

“Ted, you’re welcome to buy a ticket and bring your new girlfriend to the Ball.”

“I just may. Maybe a date with you wouldn’t be about pity, but I really like this girl, in spite of my mother’s opinion.”

“I look forward to meeting you and your friend there,” she said on a laugh. “I hope she’s as much your friend as