Faerie Lunch
or
Tir Na Nog Comes to the Big City

by Rue De Day

It was the first nice day in a long time, so I decided to go have lunch out on the square. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It gave me a chance to people-watch while I ate my tuna salad in a pita. That's usually a good time, people-watching during lunch. I saw him when I was about finished with my sandwich.

Something caught my eye as he wandered around the square. It wasn't his moccasins, or his Army pants in desert camouflage, or the yellow Spongebob Squarepants t-shirt he wore, or even the leather bomber jacket, or the fedora that topped it all off. If I had to say right off what it was about this guy that drew my eye, I'd have to say it was either the sword strapped to his left hip or maybe the revolver strapped to his right one gunslinger style.

Another odd thing was I was the only one who seemed to notice this well armed, if sartorially stunted kook. Maybe everyone was just ignoring him hoping he'd leave. I was pretty sure everyone just couldn't see him for some reason when he, my soon to be new friend, took the cell phone the business guy in his suit and tie put down and dropped it in his coffee while he, the business guy, was rooting around in his briefcase.

"That was a little rude," I muttered. At least I thought it was sort of mutter-ish.

"Yeah. Imagine talking that loud about the relative health of your colon. It just ain't right." he said as he sat down next to me. "So you can see me, huh? Not many people can."

"Oh really?" I was at a loss as to what to say, but this came out anyway.

"Yeah, watch." And he did the crane pose from the Karate Kid movies and let out a huge wail that he turned into a chicken cluck and he ran around the square clucking like a deranged chicken. No one looked.

"Weird," I said. I didn't want to ignore him now that he knew I saw him. It seemed rude and I didn't want to be rude to a crazy chicken-person who was obviously packing heat.

"Yeah, but you get used to it."

"So, what are you up to," I asked. It seemed like a good idea to know his plans. Just in case.

"I'm waiting," he said.

"For?" I'm always good with a leading question.

"Well, if you really want to know, a Redcap."

"Really?" "Yeah."

"What's a Redcap?" "That."

I looked across the square to where he was pointing. You really can learn something new everyday. A Redcap, as I just learned is very large and very ugly. It seems to have a really small head, but that's just because the rest of it is so big. They have little, squinty eyes and a piggy nose. And tusks. They're little tusks, not like an elephant or walrus or anything, but they are tusks just the same. The claws like broken off railroad spikes sure drew the eye. This one seemed to think a yellow trench coat and floral shorts that went to its knees were the height of fashion. At least it was what it was wearing. Like I was going to offer it a make over. Along with the coat and shorts, it was also wearing a hat of sorts. It looked most like a cloth bag jammed on its head covered in red and brown paint. Only it wasn't paint. Luckily I didn't find that out until later.

Again, no one saw this thing. This time it wasn't because it was oddly invisible, but because there was no one around. That was weird. I mean moments ago there were people all over the square enjoying their lunches in the sunshine. Now, nothing. It was just as well, since this is when the shooting started.

My new friend had his gun out, and another in his other hand, shooting away. Every shot hit the Redcap, sending up a gout of blood and meat and gristle. After about forever the shooting stopped. The Redcap took the last shot square in the nose and that knocked him down, like a tree falling. Not that I've actually seen too many trees fall, but that's the way it seemed, from upright to spread out over a large patch of pavement with no bending or twisting on the way down.

"So that's it?" I asked. I hoped.

"Naw. Damned things are harder to kill than werewolves."

That's when he disappeared. At least I didn't see him anymore. Just, poof, gone. Of course my attention was centered on the Redcap. It was getting up. And it was looking at me. And it was mad.

This couldn't be good.

Do you know how fast a mad Redcap can run? Fast. Really fast.

Do you know how you make a mad Redcap stop running? You cut off its head.

Out of nowhere my friend was back. With a sound like... well, the only thing in the whole world it sounded like was an incredibly sharp sword chopping off the head of a charging Redcap. It's not a sound you can really compare to anything. The body just collapsed onto the paving, but the head rolled and bounced at me. It's jaws were still working, trying to bite me. So I kicked it as far from me as I could. It seemed the prudent thing to do.

"You look like you could use a drink," my new friend observed. "Name's Puck, by the way."

"Hi Puck. Yes I could use a drink."

"I know a place."

He took me to a bar and we had a drink. Then he told me what the "paint" on the Redcap's cap was and how it got there. Then we had lots of drinks. It was a pretty big day, all things considered.