We Perform the Miracles - Chapter Eight
In which all is resolved in happy fashion, by means of a well-worn trope; and yet certain promises are kept in a manner unforseen tho' no doubt secretly hoped for by some members of the esteemed reading populace. Also the point at which yr humble narrator wishes sie had added these summations at the top of every chapter from the outset.
CHAPTER EIGHT
With a yawn and a stretch, little Noel rolled over and opened his eyes. With a start, he found himself at home, tucked into his bed, with Poppy sitting beside him, working on some macrame and cursing under her breath. But at the sound of his movement, she dropped it and jumped up all the sudden.
"Are you awake then?" she asked; but before Noel could do more than nod, she was at the door calling. "He's woke! Come quickly!" And quickly they did, his mum and dad both crowding in past Poppy at the door.
"Are you really back with us?" His mother's eyes were shining, her mascara smudged. She knelt down beside him and pushed back his hair. "Fever's broken. Thank goodness". His dad stood behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"Had us in a bit of a bother, didn't you just? Glad yer back," his dad said. "I should go ring up Terry, let 'im know as well," he added. "Let you get 'im set to rights, eh love?" He leaned over and kissed Noel's mum, then ruffled the boy's hair before leaving the room.
"I'm sorry I went out alone, Mum. I thought I saw me Crazy Legs out back, and - hey, where is he? Kierathan said I'd find him again!"
"Wot, that silly doll?" said his mum "Is that what you were after? Liquid Lou went out to have a sprinkle, nearly tripped over you in the back garden, all wrapped up in my nice coat and your wellies. Thought you'd been sleepwalking, but you wouldn't wake. You've been raving away up here for days." At that, a tear did make its way from her eye, somehow reminding him of the deer lady who'd cried for him too.
"Garden? Well I started there. But there was a trod, all yellow flowers, and a little man made of sticks who tangled up me kite string. Then Catri, Cath, Cathry-onna, all in red.. she took me underhill, I went to the best club *ever*, dad and Uncle Terry would love it! And I met a rockstar, mum, swell as Jagger or Bowie even. He said I'm one of his, now." Little Noel broke off for a moment and looked around. "But he said I'd get my best mate back. Where is he? Did you find him?"
"Did you lose your doll, luv? That one I made last year?" Poppy had been leaning against the doorframe, taking in the tale.
"Didn't lose him," sniffled the child. "Mean Geordie took him. Stole 'im away."
"Oh dear. That prat from down the street?" Noel nodded. "Might be gone then, gone with the rest of them."
"You wouldn't know," his mum went on. "Bit of a dust-up there. His da got nicked the same day we found you, trouble with a few of the boys. Geordie and his mum have gone up north to stay with hers, so - he'll not trouble you soon I shouldn't think. But your Crazy Legs might be gone with him as well."
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Little Noel was soon feeling better, enough to be up and about. He missed Crazy Legs, of course, and couldn't quite believe he might never see his gangly friend again. He was under VERY strict orders not to go into the back garden alone, but some afternoons Poppy would stay with him and let him poke about while she sat on the step and had a smoke.
He never could find the place where he'd first seen the trail, nor any hint of the spot he thought he'd seen Crazy Legs. After a time, he nearly believed it had been a dream after all, 'brought on by the fever, love', as his mum insisted. Yet he couldn't shake the memory of Kierathan's promise. Sometimes, in his bed after dark, he even fancied he could see a faint glimmer coming from his heart where the faerie Lord had kissed him; but he thought better of trying to get the grownups to see it too.
Several weeks later, he was sitting in the front room, trying to draw the little stick man with a biro on the back of an advert when Poppy came bursting in through the door.
"Oi, guess wot? Where is he, where's our little Noel?" She was high and giddy, bouncing on the toes of her go-go boots. "Come on then, got an ace surprise for you I do!" she insisted, taking the child by the hand and pulling him to the entry.
There on the step stood a shy and stolid-looking young fellow in tweed trousers. He looked to be a year or two older than Noel, though it was hard to tell as he was scrunching his face up, looking off to one side. But amazingly, clutched in his hand was a long, blue leg, attached to a bright stripey shirt -
"Crazy Legs!" cried little Noel with delight. "You found 'im, you found me best mate!"
Poppy stood nearby, beaming. "Just on my way over, I was, walking along. Saw this little chap on his stoop wif your fellow. Know that stripe anywhere, wouldn't I? Asked 'im where he got it - go on, tell him."
"Er yeah," stammered the boy. "Just moved in up the street.. found this down cellar, stuffed behind the bins." He held the doll stiffly out in front of him. "Heard its yours." Little Noel started to reach for the toy, then hesitated a moment.
"You don't mind?" he asked the new boy. "Crazy Legs, some people said he's a doll, old ragbag. Not really for boys." He peered shyly up, wondering if this boy would mock him the way Geordie had.
"No," mumbled the boy. "Rather wish I had something like, myself."
At that, Noel lit up with a grin of enthusiastic relief. "Oi, well, you can come by, play wif 'im too sometimes if you like! Or we can draw pictures together - ooh, and there's a hedgehog lives by the gate, I'll introduce you to him, his name's Mr. Stubbins and.."
Poppy walked back in the house, leaving the children chattering on the step. As she crossed the threshhold, she heard the new boy say, "Might do. Perhaps some day you'd fancy seeing my pencil case collection? My name's Julian, by the way." She smiled to herself, with the feeling old Crazy Legs wouldn't be young Noel's best mate for long.