Romance
A Goat a Dragonfly a Goose and a Rainbow
Cautious optimism — a short story
“Josh-ua!” It was a screech. “Will you come back here a moment? Jo-sh-ua!”
The terror in her voice had him loping right over to the kitchen garden where it was coming from. There she was, grey head towards him, amongst the cabbages, prostrate with Billy-the-Goat standing menacingly over her, head down, ready to headbutt if she dared sit upright or move a centimeter from where he had her pinned.
His tall frame shook silently with laughter.
“There, there, Ms Granberry, what have you gotten yourself into? Cozying up with the cabbages and Billy having none of it?”
“Oh foosh! Will you take hold of him, so that I can stand up!? Today! What are you waiting for?” Her voice scaled a few decibels.
Joshua, straddling the goat to pick him up by the horns and lift him off Granberry, fixed his grey-green eyes on her blue ones, and said evenly —
“I have the royal flush here, Ms Granberry. What cards are you holding?”
“Joshua!” her screech at point-blank range made his eyes water.
Billy’s forehooves pumped vigorously in the air as she hastily, awkwardly, scrambled backward, propelling herself with bent legs out of reach.
“Hey! Mighty impolite of you to turn that voice box up full blast.”
Joshua permitted himself a gargoyle’s grim grin.
She struggled upright, stood straighter, and plucked at her top, swiping at the wet soil with her hands, wherever she could see it.
“How can you take advantage of a moment of vulnerability to make an inane joke?” she fumed.
“Hey now, that’s extreme. You know he would not be able to hurt you. Your ego has taken a headbutting! And now you are battering me! Not fair!” he yelled in soft mockery.
“You don’t know what went before, how long I had been held hostage by that ungrateful, upstart of a hand-reared he-goat. And I wasn’t able to shove him off me!”
Unexpectedly she folded over at the waist and exploded in great guffaws of laughter.
Joshua’s mouth fell open, and then he was roaring. He too doubled over, and they clutched at each other to remain upright as their strength fueled their laughter. She tried many times to explain but dissolved into mirthful tears, at the relief and the absurdity.
“You’ll have to change out of those jeans, they look epic.”
Joshua gave her a side-ways bear hug, as much to avoid the mud as to quell what seemed to be turning into hysteria.
She gulped, inhaled deeply, and dabbed at her eyes with a corner of her shirt.
“Oh geez, what next!? That damned goat. Ungrateful beast.”
And she was off again, laughing but they were watery sounds, hiccups, and some snuffles.
“Come, I’ll make you tea.”
With his arm around her shoulders, he turned her and walked her into the kitchen. He put a folded towel down on the upholstered seat of a kitchen chair.
“You’re a good man, Joshua. Thank you for coming to my rescue. What a nightmare.”
And weakly, she put her head on her arms on the table and laughed and wept a little in relief.
Joshua checked the kettle for water, switched it on, found the mug and tea bag, and set the mug down next to the kettle, glancing at the now quiet Granberry, who was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she had taken from the box on the table.
“Are you going to have a good story to tell those two grandbabies?” he asked.
“Yes, and that they must pay attention around Billy. He’s no longer the sweetie now that he thinks he is Goat-Gruff. Bloody idiot.”
Joshua poured the boiling water onto the teabag, letting it steep for some minutes before removing it and putting the mug, milk, and sugar on the table near her.
“I am going to finish up. Do you think you will be okay?”
Joshua smiled but there was a tricksterish twinkle in his eye.
“Yes, Joshua. I’ll be okay. Am I not usually better than okay?” She amended quickly, despite the scratchiness.
Joshua said nothing, but gave a wave of his hand, ducking his head as he disappeared through the open doorway.
He had been mending his fences and from the rise, he could see down to the riverbank on this mild winter’s day. Clear, and pleasantly warm, the weaker sun was noticeably more distant. Who was that? She was reaching over the water, feet on the bank but reaching so far over that he stopped breathing momentarily, so perilously unbalanced she seemed.
“What is she doing!?” He wondered under his breath, far enough away that she would not overhear the sounds made by his vexation.
The water was clear right to the bottom, making its usual water talk in chuckles and tumbles over the stones and boulders in that part of the river that had dwindled to a stream. On the bottom, the sunlight dappled, ochre, grey, and slate-black on the river rocks strewn on the bed. There were scraggly reeds along the bank and stunted trees with trailing branches.
He walked quietly; not wanting to startle her or disturb the scene she was watching but she sensed movement. She turned piercing black eyes on him, still distant with the absorption of what they had been so intent upon. She put the length of her hand and pointer finger up before her nose and mouth, signing for him to make no sound.
He harrumphed impatiently and her eyes flashed. She turned her back on him resuming her study of the low-hanging branch. He spotted it too. A surprisingly large dragonfly with turquoise-blue markings, a long purple-black abdomen, and transparent wings, perched, quiescent. For long moments the otherworldly had cast a spell and held their gaze.
There was a tremor as its wings started moving and suddenly she overbalanced because her foot had loosened the shale on the slight decline of the riverbank where she had been standing. Momentary loss of footing caused her to bring her arms up to regain her balance, and Joshua caught the closest wrist, in a huff. For the second time that day, he found himself, of necessity in the role of the rescuing knight.
“I have been following it for ages and then what a delight when it landed and I could watch it, quietly,” said the woman, retrieving her arm as she regained her footing.
“I would not have fallen,” she said, then bethought herself. “Thank you for your gallantry and catching me.”
“Harrumph,” said Joshua, “You may have tumbled right into the river, but I am sure you know how to swim. Though, it’s not very deep here. Still, it may have been a skin-scraping, knee-bruising, soaking you would have dealt yourself.”
“I generally fall gracefully when I do: years of yoga have helped with balance and agility. I would not have landed in the water.”
“Ehm! I should have left you then. Maybe you’d like a little shove so that you can demonstrate?”
She gave him a startled look, saw the devilish twinkle, and blushed deeply. Astonishing really, given she was of similar age.
“Did that sound poncy?” she asked with a wince and grimace.
“Yes. And like a know-it-all,” he replied with a sour half-smile. “Well, I’ll be about my business, and you can continue your dragonfly daydreams.”
Joshua turned to continue along his way parallel to the river.
“I’m looking for someone called Granberry. Do you know where I can find this person? Granberry, not cranberry.”
Hardly suppressing a sigh, Joshua said, “Yes, Granberry. I know her, she lives up there.”
He pointed in the direction of her house.
“Thank you,” said the woman, and walked up the bank and off in the direction he had pointed her in.
Joshua got home, and carried in some of the firewood to stack tidily in the tall wood stand next to the fireplace. He checked for water in the coffee maker, filled the sieve with ground coffee, switched it on, and looked to see if his readers and book were where they should be, at the sofa next to the fireplace, and sighed in anticipation of long quiet moments of reading before warming something for supper.
He found Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto Number Two Opus Eighteen and played it quietly in the background.
The following morning he rose with the birds. Sat in stillness for forty-five minutes, tidied up his room, made the bed, washed dishes, and put a load of laundry into the washing machine. He walked out to Granberry's past her sign, The Goose and Cranberry. Guest House. With a charming drawing of a Goose in a headkerchief, upright carrying a basket of gooseberries on its wing. As he did many times when passing the sign, Joshua would notice it, appreciate its elegance, and marvel at its creator and the owner.
“Here’s the invoice and the bulb, Granberry, I’ll leave it on the kitchen counter.”
She was snipping green beans off the two long rows of beanstalks, tied to the trellises in the kitchen garden, and placing them into the small basket on her arm.
The morning was crisp and wet still from the humid condensation. The fat moon-colored drops sat impossibly attached to curved surfaces and hung on the edges of the dark green leaves. They trembled, shook, and splattered a mizzling rain as she moved between the rows and picked the long, slender, dangling green beans. Bareheaded, she wore her gardening wellingtons for the muddy walk between the rows.
“Ah, Joshua! Good morning. I am fine thank you! How are you? I’m no worse for the wear after yesterday’s palaver with that dratted goat.”
All the lines in her face were smiling, belying the implication of her words.
“That’s good, and so there shouldn’t be. The goat is young, you reared it, and you are robust, healthy, and fit. So! Of course, you are fine. What do you expect?” he said with an air of moving on.
“Oh, lighten up! That’s a little fun, I am having at my own expense and yours, while I am at it.”
She followed him to the kitchen door, where the smell of freshly brewed coffee lingered in friendly invitation. He placed the bulb and invoice on the counter and was out the door, past her before she had removed the wellingtons.
Emma appeared in the kitchen, smiling slightly, from the guest suite’s connecting passage.
“Good morning, Emma,” said Granberry. She held her hand up. “Just a moment. Joshua! Joshua! Come back here.”
She called after him before he was too far out of reach. He didn’t break stride, but lifted a hand, which may have been a wave but more likely was a gesture of, not now, I’m off.
“Joshua!” she called in a low tone brooking no refusal.
He turned and called, “What…?” breaking off because Emma had appeared in the kitchen doorway, and any more words in that tone would have been noticeably rude.
“Come and meet my new guest. She’ll stay possibly three months while she finishes her dissertation.”
Emma, meanwhile had walked out and was looking over the many-rowed, tended profusion of the kitchen garden.
“I am admiring your vegetable garden again. So prolific. Such constant care and hard work! And I am taking careful note,” she warned.
Joshua walked up to them.
“Joshua, this is Emma. Emma, Joshua.”
She was taller than Granberry, and her hair was different today. It was down. This morning, she had a freshly laundered look about her. Emma turned to Joshua and held out her hand at his waist level.
That surprised him, people don’t shake hands much anymore. Her hand was warm and dry. Her clasp was sure and present. In that moment an image of a rainbow came to mind, and again he was surprised. She reminded him of a rainbow. Perhaps the iridescence of yesterday’s dragonfly had lingered.
“We have met,” he said to Granberry. “At the river. I gave her directions to get here.”
“That’s true,” said Emma. “You bestowed permission for continued dragonfly daydreams.” Joshua’s suntanned complexion deepened. Granberry laughed.
“My — my Joshua, I believe that is a flush I see on your cheeks!” she teased. “You do not usually take notice like this! I didn’t know you had it in you!”
“Well, ladies, I’ll be on my way.”
He gave her a baleful smile, let go of Emma’s hand, inclined his head slightly at them both, and turned to leave.
“Emma, Joshua is my closest neighbor. He keeps to himself and prefers his own company, which gives him a mystique and dependability. On the odd occasion, when I needed help, he was here.”
“Well, Granberry, what can I say? You are incorrigible, saying too much, and talking about people as though they were not present.”
He shook his head, glanced ruefully at Emma, lifted his hand in farewell, and walked off.
“Ah, Joshua, how do you expect romance to find you if you are so cantankerous?” Granberry called after him in mock frustration.
“I maintain cautious optimism about romance, but I know I’m capable of peace without it, so I spend little time thinking about it,” said the inimitable Joshua as he continued walking.
This last sentence prompted the story: from a friend, used with permission.
