“Dad…what about those rats? Did you attack that problem?” I asked, bouncing from foot to foot, the basajaun really close now. He clearly had something on his mind. I hoped to hell it wasn’t violence. I didn’t want to fight a being that could literally spike a human’s head.
“Huh?” Dad looked away from the nearly-gray-it-was-so-weather-beaten wine barrel. “Oh, I set some traps. I found some in your shed. Don’t you worry, we’ll get that taken care of. By the way, what’s with moving that Chucky-looking doll into the TV room? Your mother said she didn’t do it. Your dolls are nice and all, but some of them…aren’t to my taste.”
I gritted my teeth and ran my hands through my hair. Ivy House was clearly messing with my parents. Was there a way to put a house on time-out?
“It’s probably Ulric’s idea of a joke,” I said, glancing back toward the trees. Austin was already walking that way, his stride long and powerful and graceful, muscles playing across his back with the swing of his large shoulders. Butterflies filled my stomach, and I turned away. He’d at least head off the basajaun, hopefully leaving it in the trees.
Unless the basajaun had come for violence. Then there’d be a Bigfoot and a polar bear battling in the garden. When it rained, it poured, indeed.
“Here, Pete, I could use a beer, whaddya say?” Niamh said, motioning him toward the house. “When Edgar gets through with what he’s doing, we’ll get him sanding that barrel down. He’s got the equipment somewhere, I think. Ye didn’t finish telling me about yer ancestors and all the places they lived in Ireland…” She gave me a long-suffering look. She was taking one for the team on this one. My dad loved to go on and on about his family roots.
“Oh yeah, that’s right.” He turned away from the barrel. The basajaun slowed as he neared the tree line, not quite visible yet, but not far off. “Well…” He looked at the sky. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”
“That’s here. It’s five o’clock here!” She motioned him in again. “Near enough, anyway. Close enough that it doesn’t matter.”
The basajaun stepped through the trees, a bright red baseball cap perched backward on his much-too-large head, an orange construction vest barely clinging to his enormous shoulders, and a pair of cut-off sweats practically glued to his lower half. Everywhere else—hair. Dense hair covered his chest, partially obscured by his long and braided beard. It flowed over his head and down the side of his hairy face, his nose so prominent it was all one could look at. The hair draped down his arms and legs and puffed up on top of his bare feet.
“Good Lord,” my dad said, having turned a little toward me. He’d spotted him.
I held my breath. Niamh’s expression flattened. Austin tried to motion the basajaun back into the trees.
“That hairy guy is sure tall. What’d you think, seven feet, eight? He dwarfs that Steele guy, and he’s a big guy.”
I furrowed my brow, not realizing my dad had taken to calling Austin by his last name. That was odd. He also didn’t seem to have a real grasp on height. The basajaun was more like nine feet tall.
“Yeah,” I agreed. His assessment seemed like a better number for his mental health. “He’s big, yeah. He’s a local. Kind of a recluse. Lives in a cabin in the mountains.”
“Well, he clearly lost his razor. People probably think there’s a Bigfoot around here.” Dad shook his head and headed for the door. “Strange group of characters hanging around this house,” he muttered. “Almost as strange as the house itself. And the staff.” He lifted his voice a little as he reached Niamh. “What’s with the butler’s cape? I can’t figure it out. What’s he dressed up as?”
“A gobshite, that’s what.” She led him through the back door.
With them gone, I jogged across the grass. The basajaun caught sight of me and stepped around Austin, walking to meet me, his stride so big that we were moving toward each other at the same speed.
“Hey…” I pointed at him. “I never did get your name.”
“Yes. Sorry for the intrusion. Lovely garden you have. It is even nicer than the last time I was here. I dream of these flowers. There is such a beautiful taste to them…”
I dropped my hand. “Thanks, I’ll be sure to let Edgar know—”
“They taste even better than they look, and that is a true marvel. When we traded, I had no idea it was such a one-sided bargain. I was the true victor in that dealing. Often a person will offer quantity when they don’t have quality, but you offered both. I am humbled by your generosity.”
“Oh no, I think the trade was equal. It—”
“I come today because of that, and also because of our mutual respect and granting of safe passage on each other’s territories.” He looked between Austin and me.