The girl giggled again, and I felt myself grow red.
“Go find something to cover the Acrobats au naturel, why don’t you, my dear,” said Archie.
The girl ran for the kitchen door.
“You should have seen Abel trounce a pair of bullies,” Apollo said.
“Thieves, were they?” Archie asked, looking me up and down.
“I didn’t trounce them,” I objected. “We had to run away.”
“Townies caught us while we were swimming!” Apollo said.
“Swimming in thorns, apparently,” Archie answered.
What a sight I must be. Apollo’s fur had protected him, but I was a mass of welts and scratches. Before I could think of an adequate retort, the kitchen maid came back with sheets fresh from the airing cupboard. I flung the one she offered me around myself. I didn’t ask Archie to be quiet about his discovery because I knew it would be useless. “Come on, Apollo,” I said. I was tired of being mocked.
Apollo struggled with his sheet. “But you were heroic,” he insisted in his sweet voice as he followed me around to a little-used side door, dragging a train behind him. “You came to my rescue when I was done for.”
“You’ve been reading too many penny dreadfuls,” I told him.
Fortunately, I ran into no one, and when I arrived at our apartments, my parents had already gone down to the dining room. I dressed for dinner and joined them and Uncle Jack at our family table before they had finished the soup. To my dismay, Archie Crum sat at the next table with Orlando the Magnificent. He was table-hopping. He winked at me and grinned. I knew that by the end of dinner half the hall would know of my predicament this afternoon. I might as well tell my parents before they heard a lurid version from someone else. I took a deep breath that didn’t escape the notice of my mother.
“What is it Abel, my love?” she asked. The foot holding her spoon paused halfway to her mouth.
“I’m afraid I had a misadventure this afternoon,” I admitted, then told them all that had passed, including our discovery by Archie Crum.
“Well done!” Papa exclaimed. He pushed down with his hands and flipped himself around on his chair to face me. “We can always trust you to protect young Apollo.”
I couldn’t look at him. “I didn’t do much,” I grumbled. “I ran away.” Those boys had been there because of me, but I couldn’t say that and let him down.
“It’s no shame to run in the face of superior forces,” Papa said. “It’s the wise thing to do, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Uncle Jack slapped me on the back. “However, in case you don’t get away so swiftly next time, I’ll show you a trick or two tomorrow at practice.”
I tried to control my temper. They were being kind. “I’m sorry about the clothes, Mama,” I said.
“Pish!” she answered. “If they are not in the mud by the pond tomorrow, I’m sure I can sew up more. They were not your good clothes, after all.”
“I suspect that Mr. Papandreou is not of the same mind,” said Papa.
At the Papandreou table the normally dour head of the family appeared thunderous. Mrs. P., Phoebe, and Apollo sat with their heads bowed and ate silently. Apollo’s hand crept to his face as if he was brushing away a tear. Had his father beaten him after all?
What would Mr. P. do to me if he thought I had been toying with his daughter? Would he beat me also, or would he just insist that I make her an honest woman? My appetite left me and I put down my fork.
“Are you not hungry, dear?” my ever vigilant mother asked.
“I’m full,” I lied.
I sat and fiddled with my ring as I waited for my family to finish their meal, examining them from under lowered eyelids. I loved my parents, but now I saw them as the boys in town did, strange and distorted. Perhaps it frightened the townies even more that they couldn’t see what my difference was, although they were sure I had one. If I went out into the world, would young ladies think me handsome when they didn’t have the image of my mother and father in their eyes? The surge of yearning I felt for this made me uncomfortable—hot and prickly with betrayal.
“Stop kicking the table leg, Abel,” my father said.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I stared at my ring so I wouldn’t have to look at him. I felt ashamed that I could so easily abandon my parents, if only in my mind.
The bezel setting, which held the turquoise stone in place, had the form of a gold snake with its tail in its mouth. As I turned the ring back and forth, the gold caught the light and dazzled my eyes with sparks. Pleasure caught in my throat as I mesmerized myself with the tiny fireworks show. I narrowed my eyes and the room faded—all I saw were sparkles. My anger drained away, I relaxed, and the annoyance of the world grew distant.
A Gypsy ring, the townie had called it. My eyes were fully closed now.