A Prince, a Gypsy, and a Duchess
Monday, February 21, 2005
The day before had been very pleasant, altogether. Before church had commenced, Joe wandered over to the four and five year-old corral, as the class had not yet arrived. There would only be a giggling gaggle of girls that morning, running circles around OLeif as he prepared to begin Bible memory.
Joe contrived to open his wallet for a band-aid. Inside his wallet were three pictures, which always made the girls of the family think he was just the cutest dude. There was a photo of a mountain peak in Philmont that either he or Dad had snapped that past August, a picture of an especially dumb-looking Trooper in the lawn of one green spring, and a picture of himself taken in Times Square with the one eyebrow up. (Joe’s eyebrows were legendary.)
But the band-aid was for his hand, which was already bleeding quite steadily, unnoticed before. He assumed it had been bloodied by the escapade even earlier that morning, as he and OLeif slung OLeif’s ring of keys up and down the long hall, across the floor. It must have struck his hand a little too hard at one point.
During church there were the usual distractions for roving eyes. The back of Mrs. Drew’s head continued to look like a graceful golden lily pad as it did every Sunday morning. Some women in church seemed to never wear their hair up in any fashion. Mollie McCrae got up from her seat in the second row for a drink of water…
“…like burning sticks pulled from the fire!” Pastor Hatch bellowed from the pulpit.
A reminder flashed through Collette’s mind at that moment for no particular reason, as her eye passed over a letter jacket hanging on the back of Jo-Jo McCrae’s chair. She thought of how amazingly fast the time had gone. She would never experience a college campus, autumn football games and school colors, chatting over coffee in the school cafeteria, (well, maybe a brownie for her – she didn’t drink coffee), walks around the park near the campus, or even a bit of a high school crush hear and there. It would never happen, and never had. Not that she pitied herself, or wished herself back to repeat it all again differently. She was happy where she was; it was more the matter that she was past it all. Twenty might not be an old number, she thought to herself, but two decades were gone and everything in them. She was glad they had been such good years, with little to regret.
At home, Wallace had also come along for lunch, and there were good amounts of laughter and guffawing around the candelit dinner table.
Half-way through, Carrie made the amazing discovery that Wallace had spoken with the “chosen one”, Ernest January, and that he had many resources for more information concerning him. Joe then received a bonk on the head for not having told her about such sources before.
But then came a Midsommer Murder episode while Mom and Dad napped and Francis and Linnea played up in the tree house. They groaned and laughed the whole way through, finally solving the mystery just before it was revealed substantially.
And then it was a trip for Collette and Carrie-Bri to the fabric store for odds and ends for the madrigal dinner. They happened across a grand bolt of shimmering muted gold. It would go for the completion of Joe’s regal regalia as a magnificent cape. There was also a similar bolt in black, which they bought the lot of, for his first robe of the evening – a street merchant on the black market whispering quickly and repetitively to the crowds as they past (behind his cloaked hood) – “Loui Vatton, Loui Vatton, Loui Vatton, Rolex, Rolex, Rolex…”… opening his cloak to reveal his items, and whipping his robes back ’round whenever a guard might pass. There was also a gold braid to wrap in front of his cloak around the neck. It would be splendid.
And then with deliciously cool breezes of early evening, there were a few games of LIFE and a cold soda before OLeif arrived back with Joe, Wallace, and Rose, from youth group.
And the evening was finished at the Silverspoon house with crunchy thick salads with salt and pepper, over “To Kill a Mockingbird”. It was a very satisfying evening altogether.
The day had gone quickly enough. There was more gold trim to be picked up for Joe’s fantastic robe of regalness, and for Rose’s lovely gown suited for a duchess. There were also two packages of small cakes to pick up while there, and several packs of dye – one sunburst orange, another rose, and a dark color – for Carrie to dye some of Dad’s old t-shirts to be worn long under other tops, as tunics. Collette had nearly the same idea, but would pick up her own undershirts later.
Meanwhile, Joe and Rose had yet to pick their characters for the madrigal dinner. Joe was to be a prince – Carrie thought Prussian, Collette thought German. And then Carrie was still in the process of working on her own costume, after having labored so wonderfully on the other two. Joe was also to have a dagger and a braided belt with a gold and deep blue cross. Rose was allowed an extra flounce of rose and velvet on the back of the dress with gold trim up the bodice and around the flounce.
Carrie left soon after adding another bit of gold, as she was meeting at Borders for coffee with the other three student directors – the evil genius of drama (fifteen year old, Sir Magnus Pie, III), the quiet yet occasionally mischievous eighteen year old (Stacie Tops – a partner in crime), and the wizard with the pen – Evrain Orange. They certainly made quite the foursome, penning and planning it all together, Collette was most sure.