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Blue Moon 8.1

by Donna Lamb

"What do you m-mean?" Jo asked.

Mr. Gmunro beamed at her through his thick glasses. "To making thyself desired, the first and to making rich, the second." He wagged a finger the size of a salami at her. "Mistakenly, in fairies with tails, the third wish for certain tradition is to be happy, not wise."

"W-w-wishes?" Oh God, Richard was right?

"Moon wishes," said the giant. "Thou must not to be wishing for happiness. In my island, peoples are saying, 'Is happy to be dead.'"

With some attendant honking from other vehicles, Richard backed the big limo about eight feet, pulled forward about twenty and turned in his seat to back up again. Before he got the limo moving though, a tiny Subaru darted out of the stream and pulled into the opening.

"I didn't w-wish to be b-beautiful, or rich," Jo protested. "How do you know these things, M-mr. G'm-munro?"

The big man watched with interest as Richard began backing up anyway, engaging the oversize bumper of the Lincoln with the headlights and grill of the smaller car. The driver of the Subaru leaned out and began cursing. Gmunro turned toward Jo and replied to her question. "Is my Rightly Revered office to be Sorceror Supreme of my state, the Isle of Dnuro. Eyes more old than mine have seen Truth to be blinded, Justice a mawkish trollop, and Divine Benefice a jest without hand to clap in the forest."

"So..." Jo trailed off, trying to work out the meaning of what the African wizard had said.

The Subaru driver popped out of his car and ran forward, shouting. Richard powered down his window. "I'm going to back-up now," he said to the other driver. "If I move six inches I will total your piece-of-shit Japanese Beetle and probably not even scratch the bumper on this tank."

"I'll sue your company!" screamed the other driver.

Richard had put the Paragon sign back in the trunk with the luggage, nothing else obvious identified the company that owned the limo. He shrugged, pointing at Gmunro. "That's my boss. He's got diplomatic immunity 'cause he's the King of an oil rich African country. He won't care if I wreck your car as long as I get him to lunch on time."

The Subaru driver looked toward Gmunro, boggling just at the size of the man. Gmunro, smiled, shifted his grip on one of the canes, holding it like a spear. He pretended to take aim at the little car, saying loudly without shouting, "Are you to desire that feeling of fortunate, infidel?"

Jo looked around, confused. She hadn't been able to hear the exchange between Richard and the other driver and Gmunro's bizarre interruption derailed her completely. The big man laughed like a five point temblor dropping boulders onto Pacific Coast Highway while the Subaru driver raced back to get his car out of Richard's way.

With the limo now parked five feet from the curb, Richard hopped out and started around the car. Jo dithered, wanting to question Gmunro about what he knew and how he knew it and wanting Richard as backup before she began. She reached for the sleeve of the big man's coat. Richard moved to open the rear passenger doors.

Still laughing, the Rightly Revered Sorceror Supreme stepped off the six-inch curbing and staggered. One ivory-tipped cane flailed inches from Richard's face, the other stabbed into the pavement, barely missing Jo's foot while his elbow struck her shoulder hard enough to stagger her.

"Jo!" Richard yelped, jumping forward to catch her around the waist before she also tripped on the curb or the cane.

Startled, she looked up into his face, her heart pounding and her mouth dry. "I'm okay, Richard." He smiled at her, his eyes soft and she licked her lips. Then they both turned to see if their charge had left a crater where he fell.

Catching himself on both canes, Gmunro rested a moment from the exertion. "Softly, softly, mes jeunes," he murmured. "Apologies by the myria for a clumsy elephant with numberful enemies." He grinned. "And maybe one fresh noodle, proprietating yon barking cockroach vanished now these several tocks."

Richard laughed, still holding Jo. "You convinced him, sir. He'll think twice about trying to bully someone out of his weight class from now on."

Jo wanted to protest Richard's reference to weight but she went unheard, both men laughing loudly enough to drown her out. Besides, Richard's arm still around her waist made a great distraction.

"Thou slimmest flower of M-melody, art not maimed by this bovine Falstaff to staggering drunkenly in the realm of beauty?"

"Oh, no," said Jo. "I'm okay." She smiled at both of them and they beamed back at her so brightly she had to giggle. With Richard's face only inches away, a thought insinuated itself into her consciousness. No, she told herself, I will not kiss him. Mr. M'gunro might want one, too. I mean, G'munro. And I just won't. Yet.

Mr. Gmunro managed to enter the limousine's passenger compartment without further incident, other than a creaking grumble from the suspension.

After helping close the doors, Jo finally remembered. "Richard! He said something about w-w-wishes? That we'd used two and to b-be careful w-with the last one." She frowned. "At least, I think that's w-what he said."

"Huh? Mr. Mungroe?"

"Him," she nodded at their passenger. "He said we'd used one for b-b-b-," she blushed, "looks and one for m-m-loot and not to let the f-f-fairies.... Oh, I don't know!"

"Wow," said Richard. "I was right about the wishing?"

Jo rolled her eyes. "W-well, statistically you have to b-be right some of the time, don't you?"

Richard grinned, gave her a peck on the forehead and a pat on the ass, "Get in and we'll talk to him about it on the way to find a drive-thru." He started around the vehicle and stopped at the driver's door, looking back at her.

Jo still stood there, her mouth open, one hand on her mouth and one out of sight but with her elbow cocked like she had it resting on her butt. Uh oh, thought Richard. What did I just do?