The park was full to bursting with people at every stall and performers expertly performing. As I watched it all I wondered what it was like to throw a bunch of knives in the air or shoot fire from my mouth.
As I wondered this, I stood, back against my little motorbike, idly strumming a guitar. I wasn’t nervous—on the outside, anyway. I mean, the only reason I was even here-
“Are you ready, dear?” she asked, scattering my thoughts while she leaned over to adjust my tie. The way she looked up at me afterwards was the last straw. The last… adorable straw. And she knew it.
“Of course!” I said, plucking out a quick riff as I stood up, the coattails of my suit jacket falling off the seat of my bike.
“Good.” She turned around and started skipping through the crowd, me on her heels.
She started to hum, cueing me up. I also began. There were no words, and the tune sounded old—very old—but, of course, that was the point. For, we were in the land of our elders: Victorian London.
Actually, it was just a small town on the outskirts of London, and we were the musical entertainment. One of several going around the park and playing music.
Now, the list that was given to us was rather flat. Boring…. Easy. Or so says she. So, being the person she is—and the girl I love—she made slight alterations.
While still skipping about, she stopped humming and I plugged in my mini-amp.
The chords were easy to play, and it garnered attention quickly. I took this as a signal to really begin.
“Well, I woke up to the sound of silence and cries were cutting like knives in a fist fight.” I’d strum while I sang, playing the song I knew all too well. “And I found you with a bottle of wine, your head in the curtains, and your heart like the Fourth of July.” A quick riff and some faster strumming. “You swore and said-”
I started strumming a different chord while she cut me off. The comedic value was the look I was giving everyone—slight offense and great confusion—even though I was playing for her.
“I’m gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket!” she burst out, skipping around the small clearing the people had gathered around to watch. “This is… awesome!”
In her euphoria, I started playing a different tune again, giving her a look that was both challenging and happy while she wore a similar façade as I’d had earlier.
“On a hill ‘cross the blue lake! That’s where I had my first heart ache, yeah! I was so young I could barely say! My father said-” I quickly switched again, allowing her to sing her part.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m feelin’ twenty two! Everything will be alright, you keep me next to you! You don’t know about me, but you want to!” she was dancing circles around me as I played and I gave a look of contempt. “Everything will be alright!” She stopped in front of me and broke out in a little jig. “You just keep dancing like your twenty two—Oh, oh! Twenty two—oh, oh, oh!” I snapped her out of her jig, sending her stumbling backward with a quick change and a fierce look. I started chanting some language that I really didn’t understand.
“Areumdawo sarangseureowo; geurae neo, hey, geurae baro neo, hey. Areumdawo sarangseureowo; geurae neo, hey, geurae baro neo, hey. Jigeumbuteo gal dekkaji gabolkka!” I pause for a moment before bursting out with “Oppa Gangnam Style!” and starting my own little jig. Left, left, right, left, right, right, left, right—and repeat. Once the jig is done, I freeze in place and look directly at her. She was watching me the whole time, amusement plastered on her face, but, when I made eye contact, she seemed startled.
“Hey… sexy lady!” I shouted at her, strumming a new tune afterward.
“I wanna scream, and shout, and let it all out—and scream, and shout, and let it out.” She was moving towards me again, both our faces showing triumph over the other. “Sayin’ oh-e-oh-eoh-eoh.”
We jumped in the air, stomping on the ground loud enough to startle those in our immediate proximity.
I took a deep breath. “You are now, now rockin’ with Nicholas and-”
“Mary, bitch!”
And the crowd went wild.
The time went by faster than I thought it would. I mean, I always enjoyed playing, but she made it even better—I was expecting my anxiety to shoot through the roof before the first set was over! But, now that we’d played for a while, I returned the guitar and mini-amp to the music supervisor. Thomas was a nice enough guy and he knew that we’d want some time to rest.
“Have a good time, you two!” he jeered at us as we left the stand.
“Better than you!” I shouted back, Mary sticking her tongue out at him.
“Just ignore him,” we both heard from the left.
Turning to look, I saw a man who would easily pass for Sherlock Holms. The hunting cap and pipe, on top of the overcoat, seemed to just scream “Mystery!”
“He means well, but can be a little… playful at times,” the man continued.
“Thanks for the advice.” I smirked. “Nicholas Tesla, and who might you be?” I introduced my persona while holding a hand out to him.
“Dr. Joseph Bell.” When we only returned looks of confusion, he continued. “The real man Sherlock Holms was based off of. The hat and pipe are simply for show.” We both made general sounds of understanding and nodded our heads.
“What might your part be in the grand gathering?” I asked. “We were the musical entertainment.” There was a hint of pride in my voice, which did not go unnoticed by Mary or the good doctor.
“Well, other than simply enjoying the arrangement, I am its host.” There was also a hint of pride in his voice.
“Wait, you’re-” Mary started, gripping my arm rather tightly.
“The one-and-only, my dear!” There was a silent understanding between the two of them, which apparently went over my head completely. Mary soon took notice of my ignorance. “Possibly the greatest historian of our time, the incredible Dr. Henry Williams!” She made jazz hands at him, glorifying the statement further.
After a short silence and her continued jazz hands, I simply shook my head. “Nope, no bells a-ringin’.” I stated, crossing my arms with a slightly apologetic look.
“Oh, it’s quite alright! Not everyone can be savvy in the ways of archeology!” He chuckled. “In fact, I’m surprised you’ve heard of me, Mistress….” He trailed off, asking for her hand with his own.
When she offered it, he leaned down and kissed the back of her palm. Her face flushed a little and she brought her other hand to her chest.
I rolled my eyes to all of this.
“Alright, I hope you two have a wonderful time at my little soirée.” He smiled as he turned and walked away, greeting other visitors similarly.
“That… was… amazing!” she screamed in my ear, nearly tackling me in a hug.
“I bet it was, dear. Now let’s go play some games. Which do you think first? We could throw darts, or maybe bobbing for apples!” I pointed out some others in sight.
“How about… that one!” I looked over, seeing a stand labeled “swordplay.”
I knew that she had taken fencing lessons a couple months back, but seeing the men fight with short swords was… brutal.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “There are so many more games here—safer ones, too!”
“No, I want to teste my mettle.” She seemed determined as she approached the stand.
I sighed and followed.
“Bets, bets! Taking bets, here!” the proctor of the fight announced. “Louie the Lasher or Cam the Crusher! Place all your bets!”
“I’d like to fight!” All eyes turned to us. It was the second time that day we’d attracted attention, and this time was not to my liking.
“Little lady,” he said, looking down on her four-foot-five stature. “What do you mean ‘fight?’”
“In the ring. With Louie or Cam.” Both men laughed at this, but the proctor seemed concerned as she walked over to the sword display, picking out a nice, light rapier.
“Sir, is your lady touched in the head?” he whispered to me, making sure Mary couldn’t hear.
“She’s perfectly sane, I assure you.” I sighed and massaged my temples as she nearly stumbled just from swinging the weapon that weighed nearly a kilogram.
She jumped in the ring, motioning for one of them to step forward. Cam did, swinging his sword in circles and placing it on his shoulder. “I’ll go easy on you.” Looking Cam over, his right arm was heavily protected while his left had a gauntlet-like shield. Mary took a quick look over her opponent before responding.
“I won’t.” She sprinted forward with astonishing speed, surprising Cam, who brought his sword to bear regardless.
Sparks flew and, when the dust had settled, so to speak, no damage had been taken on either side.
“Wait for it!” she chirped, standing up and sheathing her weapon. As she did, a piston on his armored arm seemed to spew steam.
He was surprised, but—due to the rules of roleplay—he let his arm fall limp.
“How did you-” he began, but he didn’t have time to respond.
“First rule of fighting ironmen,” she said with a little flair of her hair. “Strike for the power source.”
Louie, seeing his comrade disabled, attempted a sneak attack from behind. Although, it wasn’t much of a “sneak” attack as he probably meant it. The man yelled, sword raised over his head, rushing Mary.
Mary smirked.
With a swift move to the left, sticking her foot out, she tripped him, sending him tumbling into his comrade, who somehow managed to remain standing. The two were thoroughly angered, now, brandishing their swords to the little lady.
“Come and get it, boys!” she jeered, putting an empty hand up and bending her fingers up.
They charged, both of them, and swung their swords in sync. One went low, the other high; and they meant to kill.
Mary fell to a crouch, parrying the lower with a swift flick. Louie, who’d struck high, overcompensated. Using his momentum, Mary made them tumble onto each other.
While the two scrambled to untangle themselves from each other, Mary turned to the crowd and curtsied.
At this point, the proctor decided he’d spare his fighters any more shame.
“Let’s give our little lady a round of applause!” he called to the crowd, who gave a soft ovation. “Now, once our fighters rest, we’ll get back to the fight! Sadly, we must ask the little lady to leave the stage.” A couple of people looked slightly disappointed and left, but some stayed, waiting for the actual fight they’d come to see.
“Mary, you’re insane.” I took her hand, helping her off of the raised platform.
“Yeah, but that’s what you love about me,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss my cheek.
A light blush came across my face as some of the audience jeered. I heard faint comments of “wearing pants” and “dominance” as we left the area.
“Shame you didn’t fight with me,” she commented when we were out of earshot. “We could’ve totally crushed those two!”
“You, alone, crushed them.” And it was true. If she’d kept fighting, they’d be stripped to their underclothing by now.
“Yeah, I guess I did!” She seemed proud, for some reason. Those guys were probably used to choreographed fights, not real battle.
“We're all victims of our own hubris, at times,” I said under my breath.
“Sometimes it's the crazy people who turn out to be not so crazy,” she replied. “You know, if you’re going to quote eighties actors, you should choose them more carefully.”
I rolled my eyes. Perhaps Spacey wasn’t the best choice, after all.
“Now, I’m hungry! Get me food!” She pushed me towards a funnel cake stand, making me stumble a little.
“Alright, alright; but no sweets until after lunch.” I changed course towards a grill stand, buying a hot dog and a cheeseburger.
She seemed delighted to eat her hotdog… and my cheeseburger. Either way, she was satisfied, so I was satisfied. I wasn’t all that hungry to begin with, anyway.
“So, what next, my dear?” I asked, offering my arm, which she daintily took.
“Wherever the fates take us.” She smirked, pulling me close.
“Even if it’s to the depths of hell?” The smirk grew to a soft smile.
“As long as I’m with you….”
Shame we couldn’t be together longer.