When last we met: Another elfin being opened the patio door and came out onto the deck. Through the glass I could see several [unpronounceables] sitting on the floor in front of my television. Before I could voice my thought that everyone was getting a bit too comfortable, the elf on the deck said, “I think you need to see this.”
Dejah, Summer and I entered our living room, accompanied by a few of the creatures and critters who were small enough to get through the patio door. The TV was still tuned to the weather channel, and a bewildered meteorologist was pointing to the weather map, which showed something I had never seen on a weather map before: a kind of red arch of an arrow anchored in the southeastern United States and with the point more or less pointing to my land — or at least an area just east of the bay of Green Bay.
“This is history in the making, folks,” said the weather person, who looked excited and frightened simultaneously. “The hurricane appears to have launched itself into the mesosphere, about 60 miles high, from a spot in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. It’s on a high arc and on a course that seems targeted to land on Northeast Wisconsin from above.”
“The Evil One,” Grenn and Blurg said simultaneously.
Blurg gave Grenn a gentle punch in the shoulder and said, “You owe me a mead.”
“It’s still due to make landfall — maybe we should call that skyfall — about 20 miles north of Green Bay, Wisconsin, on Halloween morning,” the meteorologist said. “Some scientists are calling it a byproduct of climate change, but I have to say, I don’t know what to call it. This is simply unprecedented.”
“It’s magic,” Grenn and Blurg said simultaneously. Blurg poked Grenn in the shoulder again.
“Yeah, yeah, that makes two,” Grenn grinned.
I had two conflicting feelings. I was thankful that whatever was coming our way was apparently not going to wreak havoc and destruction for 1,000 miles from the Gulf of Mexico to my home. At the same time I was horrified that I appeared to be living at Ground Zero.
“Why in the wide, wide world of sports would this magic hurricane be targeting my house??!!” I cried.
“What’s the wide, wide, world of sports?” Blurg asked.
“Before your time, dear,” Grenn said.
“Blazing Saddles reference,” Dejah said.
“What’s Blazing Saddles?” Summer said.
“Oh my gosh, Daddy, we haven’t watched Blazing Saddles in more than three years!” Dejah cried.
“Summer, I owe you a laurel and hearty handshake,” I told her. “But, back on topic, why is this evil hurricane coming here?”
“The Evil One works in strange and mysterious ways,” said the eagle chief, and I was surprised to see him in my living room again. People were coming and going so quickly.
“It’s not that mysterious,” said Grenn. “Come on, everybody, let’s go outside. Philbert, you keep an eye on that magic box, to monitor any other news we need to know.”
“Oh, man. Why am I always on monitor duty?” asked Philbert.
“It’s what you do best,” said Grenn, which brought a smile to Philbert’s face.
“OK, boss,” he said. “Thanks.”
We gathered in front of the septic mound out of respect to the assembled multitude. I really did need to go through the fenced-in backyard with a pooper scooper, even if the mess had proven an effective defense against worblatts.
“OK, let’s see what we’ve got, numbers wise,” said Grenn. “I count about 50 or 60 [unpronounceables]. How many of us are mystics, Blurg?”
She did a quick head count. “Seventeen.”
“Wow,” said the great buck with surprised admiration. “I would think 17 [unpronounceable] mystics is almost all we need to do this.”
“Am I the only one who can’t pronounce that word?” I said. The buck had pronounced it flawlessly.
“Oh, no, it’s impossible for any human to pronounce it,” Seth the Dragon said. “I don’t know why that is.”
“I believe we have 29 warrior eagles here,” said the eagle chief.
“We have only these six bucks here,” said the great buck, turning to his fellow antlered white-tailed deer.
“And your mates,” said the doe testily, as five other female deer appeared from the woods.
“And us!” cried several fawns, but the young ones were shushed back into the brush.
“And I think we can all count to five,” said one of Seth’s dragon friends.
“That’s a small army,” I said.
“But what good can even all of us do against a hurricane powered by the Evil One?” Dejah asked, and all grew quiet except for the gentle sound of the wind chimes in the autumn breeze.
“I have an idea,” said Blurg, the [unpronounceable] wizardess.
She outlined her thought.
An excited hubbub broke out as everyone agreed it just might work.
“OK, we have a week before Halloween,” said Seth the Dragon. “Let’s get busy.”
And everyone got busy.
Summer walked up to me then.
“Daddy, what’s a laurel and hearty handshake?” she asked plaintively.
