Flight to the Lonesome Place by Alexander Key Page B

she said, “maybe it will feel better under the wig. You’ve just got to keep it hidden till you find Black Luis. Then he and Marlowe can do something about it. They’re awfully clever about all sorts of things.”
    She brought scissors and a comb to his stateroom and started to work. But as the first blue curl fell to the floor, she wailed tearfully, “Oh, I just can’t cut them. They’re so beautiful!”
    â€œBeautiful my eye,” he muttered. “I’m sick of ’em! Whack ’em off!”
    After that she surprised him by giving him an expert trim, which relieved the discomfort of the wig without making it too loose. When she had finished, she studied him critically a moment, then suddenly giggled.
    â€œSo I’m funny,” he grumbled. “What is it?”
    â€œI’m not laughing at you , silly. I’m laughing at us .”
    â€œWell, I guess we are a sort of funny pair, camarada .”
    â€œFunny! ¡Madre mía! Here we are, just a couple of little kids, people would say—people that don’t know us. Because we’re smaller than we should be, and look younger than we are. And we act like kids most of the time. But we’re not, really. Not inside.”
    â€œNo,” he admitted. “We’re not.”
    â€œInside,” she said, “you’re grown-up and know more than lots of the smartest people. And me, I’m old, old, old inside, and know things you’ll never know. And why? I’ll tell you a secret: I really did have an Irish grandmother. She was a daughter of the Shee.”
    Ronnie, carefully picking up blue curls and putting them into a bag to be thrown overboard, jerked his head up at the word. The tiny girl said, “I don’t know how it’s spelled, but that’s how it’s pronounced. Have you ever heard of them?”
    â€œSure, I’ve read about ’em,” he said.” The name was spelled S-i-d-h-e in the book, but pronounced ‘Shee.’ They are sort of mythical Celtic beings who were supposed to have all kinds of special powers.”
    â€œMy grandmother had special powers, and she wasn’t mythical,” the girl retorted. “I inherited what I have from her. And I really can make people have warts.”
    â€œI didn’t say you couldn’t,” he told her.
    â€œNo, but you thought it, and that’s practically the same as saying it.”
    â€œOkay. Let’s say you have special powers. Then why can’t you use them to keep people like Bernardo from hurting you and sending you away?”
    â€œBecause I’m too little ,” she said. “I can’t get up enough—what’s the word?”
    â€œSteam?” he suggested.
    She giggled. “That’s good enough. Steam. When I grow bigger I’ll have more steam, and I’ll be able to flatten Bernardo, though of course I wouldn’t hurt him, even though I hate him. My grandmother said I must never use my power to really hurt or take advantage of someone, or I’ll lose it. Though of course it’s all right to help others. Last year, when Marlowe and Black Luis were trying to get me out of Santo Domingo, I practically wore myself to a frazzle—”
    â€œWait a minute. You say Marlowe was with you?”
    â€œOf course he was with us. Without his help we couldn’t possibly have managed!”
    Ronnie scowled at her. “That’s funny. The captain didn’t mention him when he told me about how you escaped.”
    â€œThe captain has never even seen Marlowe. That’s why.”
    â€œOh. What’s he like? What sort of person is he?”
    â€œHe—he’s not exactly a person, Boy Blue, though I think of him as that. I mean,” she added hesitantly, “he’s more of a—a personage.”
    Ronnie stared at her. “Are you trying to tell me he’s not real?”
    â€œOf course he’s real, silly!