As I hike to the stairs, I see a park ranger on the trail. I wave. He waves. As we get closer, he recognizes me and stops smiling. He doesn’t even look as I pass. I look back and I am a little worried. He shouldn’t go that fast on this rough trail.

I leave the trail and start down the incline. The large rocks jutting out keep me from going down too fast. Slick leaves, boulders and thicket the whole way down. Near the creek, there is a wide stairway almost as if someone planned a tall bridge over the creek and ran out of money. I don’t go right to the stairway. I am filthy from the rough climb down.

I bathe in a stream as cold as I think a stream can be without turning to ice. I return to the base of the stairway where I left my backpack. My pack has been moved. I really want to complain to my boss, but I am not yet ready to ruin my life any worse than it already is. I am not sure that dying is going to be an escape, so I am damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

I check my backpack and my clothing has been exchanged for a new suit. It feels and looks nice, but I fear the tricks that the fair folk may pull. I try to find a spare thread or a bit of fluff, but the new clothing is too tough to pull a thread from. I want to check with steel to see if my new clothing is gossamer, but I don’t want to end up with nothing. I debate wearing the cold wet clothing I just washed in the stream.

I test the back of my knife by striking it across the stone at the stair's base. I get a good spark so I think it is still my knife. I test one of the socks and it is real. Fairy pranksters are smart enough to guess that I might test things so I have no way to be sure my pants and underwear are real. Taking too much precaution can be a danger of its own so I think I am going to have to risk potential embarrassment. Before putting anything on I test my canteens and their contents. I set my steel wind up clock at the bottom of the stair and take a deep breath.

I step into my boss' amazing and lovely Fairyland. Of all of his lands, I like this one the most. I am at the top of a hill where a ring of standing stones supports a ring of capstones. My boss is dancing in a line with several ladies. Sitting on the ring well overhead are more gentle folk clapping and enjoying the music and dance.

My violin appears in my hand. I pull my bow out and join the playing. I move in rhythm as I play and look for the other musicians. I turn and they are behind me. I bow to them, still playing and glance briefly at the girl playing something like a long hammer dulcimer. I glance away quickly. It is the judge. The other musicians clear a spot for me beside the girl.

Great, it seems the Fairies want to set me up with a being that the lords of Fairy fear. I have always felt that my only safety has been while playing music. Now I fear that even that is gone. We play. She is good. More than just the magically gifted good. She is a genius. For moments I forget to fear her. I weave sorrowful tunes through the bright ones she plays. She plays with her fingers, plucking, pushing and striking strings. Her music covers the range of percussion and string. She brings elements into the music I have not heard before. At times the three other violinists stop and just listen to us play. Her music sounds both old fashioned, modern, classical and Far Eastern. I don’t want this to stop. I almost cry and I have not done that for years.

#

My violin turns back into the little girl that is my boss' sister. I take out the brush I keep for her and start to sort out her tangled hair.

I ask, “Violin, how doest thou keep messing up thy hair?”

She says, “That’s, ‘My Violin,’ to thee and a mess is its nature.”

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I ask, “Art thou ever going to grow up?”

My Violin winces and says, “Never. Who wants to be a viol or viola?”

The judge says, “A cello wouldn’t be that bad.”

My Violin says, “Everyone else may be scared of you, but I’m not.”

I say, “Beg pardon, but thee is more polite.”

My Violin gets up and scolds me, “She’s human and not even half a hundred years old.”

My Violin runs over to her brother.

I start to get up and the judge asks, “Where are you going?”

I say, “For me, the jig is up. I try to leave as quickly as I can when the music stops. These strange lands are not safe places to linger.”

She says, “I don’t think the party is over.”

I look over at My Violin sitting with my boss and say, “I don’t think My Violin will be playing any more this evening.”

The judge asks, “Why don’t you look at anyone except her? Pardon me for asking, but is she your girlfriend?”

I say, “Not wise to look long at the folk in these lands. Some take it rude. No, My Violin is My Violin. It is an intimate relationship and we share love but not the way you mean. I am, as I almost always am, between girls. Please don’t take that as a plea or invitation. It is the way things are and I would rather break a relationship than endanger a girl.”

The judge offers me a violin.

I say, “I appreciate the offer. I would have to ask My Violin first.”

The judge asks, “Am I not pretty enough?”

I don’t look at her as I say, “Thou art in the ranks with the kings and queens of Fairy. I am sure that thou art quite charming.”

I get up and bow to the musicians. I bow to the judge and my boss. My Violin waves. I make my exit to the top of the stair.

My clock is still running but it is dark here in the woods. It seems time matched in my boss' Fairyland with real so I expect that little has changed.

At the trail, my horse is waiting for me. This is a welcome relief after climbing the slope in the dark.

#

I am sitting at a cafe nursing along a chai tea. Brent and Karen will be here soon and they are bringing someone for me to meet. Karen’s taste in women is frightening, so I am hoping that Brent has intervened. I am pretty sure it is a girl. That is how these things usually work.

They come in with a quite attractive Asian girl. She seems nice enough and looks like she might be intelligent and a bit fun. Pity really, these arrangements never work out. I am not sure if it is the pressure or what, but they really don’t. I have more luck meeting fellow hikers.

I wave to them. The girl is carrying a violin case. This may not be so bad after all.

Karen says, “Lee, this is my brother, Danny. Danny, this is Lee.”

I stand and say, “Good to meet you. Brent, Karen, I know what you both drink. What can I get you, Lee?”

She says, “I don’t know yet. I need to see the menu.”

Karen says, “You should go with Danny. Brent and I will watch the table.”

We go to the back of the line and she looks up at the menu.

She asks, “Awkward?”

I say, “These things always are. I am a bit awkward anyway. I get a bit nervous around--”

I am about to say pretty girls, but stop myself. I suspect she hears it way too much. I almost ask her if she plays violin. She is carrying a violin case so that would be just as awkward.

Lee asks, “Can I ask you a favor?”

I say, “No harm in asking.”

She asks, “Just in front of Karen and Brent, can we act like we are getting along?”

I ask, “Am I that bad?”

She says, “I am not saying that. But who knows, it might work out and at least it will put Brent and Karen at ease.”

I nod and she puts her arm in mine. Now I have to fight smiling like an idiot.

I ask, “Do you always carry a violin?”

She puts her hand to the side of my face and now I am looking her in the eyes. Deep green eyes. Time stops for a moment. I struggle to clear my mind. She takes the moment and kisses me. Just a quick peck but now I am looking forward to the chance of more.

She says, “I usually have a violin or two handy but I don’t usually carry one. After all the issues, I think I owe you something. Don’t worry, I talked with Violin and she said that she plans to wander for a while so you should play this while she is gone.”

I back up. She still has a hold on my arm. She is no longer Asian, but she has the same green eyes. It is the judge. Soft light brown hair surrounding bottomless green eyes. Her stare is dangerous and I feel lost in the woods. My heart flutters and not just from fear. I am not sure I can escape this. I am not sure I want to. She leans against me and her hair turns dark again.

She looks up with her head against my shoulder and asks, “Our secret?”

I nod in agreement. There is no reason to upset Karen.