The Captivating Image of the Girl in Green

“It just doesn't make sense!” Mandy slapped the Polaroid picture onto the coffee table. 

“Babe! I swear, I know it sounds like a lie, but I swear to you, I don't remember who that girl is, let alone ever taking her photo! “

Mandy stomped her foot and put a hand to her hip, a playful smirk drew at the corner of her lips.

“Tom O’Neil! Just get on with it and tell me who she is. I can see that the photo was taken years ago, so I’ve got nothing to be jealous of!”

The two had spent most of the afternoon in bed making love and watching movies. Tom had started a tickling fight when Mandy, laughing hysterically and squirming to get away, had rolled right off the bed.

Both were laughing to the point of tears when Tom offered a hand up. Mandy placed her hand in his, but not without first catching a glimpse of a shoe box under the bed. Deciding he would show Mandy its contents, Tom tucked it under his arm and carried it to the front room.    

“No, Really! I’ve no idea!”

Tom ran his hand through his thick black curls while walking over to the large picture window. Looking out at the city below, he crossed his arms and sighed. He had resided in the city for twenty five years now. His family had given him a choice on his eighteenth birthday. Stay in Ireland and help to run the family Inn as his father, and grandfathers had, or take the chance to move to America to attend college. 

Having been born in a generation that was blessed enough to have a choice, he chose to leave his family business and venture out on his own. Raindrops distorted the view of the Space Needle as they hit the pane hard and heavy. He recalled hugging his mother before boarding the flight, and the words they shared. 

“Tom, remain honest as you’ve always been. Call home as often as you can, and visit yer Mam just as much as ye can too. The door will always be open.”

His mother was right. He had not once told a lie since he was five years old, and was not about to start at thirty eight. Turning on his heel, he faced his fiance Mandy.

“Mandy, I swear to you I cannot remember. I don't know who she is. I’ve no reason to lie to ya.”

“Well, if you say you can't remember then I choose to believe you. I am blessed with an honest man.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him sweetly.

“Maybe I grabbed it by accident when I left the dorm. You know how Eric left all his things strewn about, and he was quite the player. This could have been one of his girls.”

Mandy agreed.

 “Maybe. Lord knows he was in every girl's pants within a thirty mile radius back then. What's he up to these days anyway? Still out chasing tail, or did he finally buckle down and graduate his third senior year?”

Tom shrugged his shoulders. “Hard to say really, he and I haven't spoken much this last year. He was really odd after we got back from spring break our senior year.

“Hmm, that is odd, he was such a party guy. Maybe you should reach out. You and him were pretty close before I came along. It's always good to check in on friends. Especially if he was acting weird like you say.”

“Right now though, I’m going to get dressed. I’m craving a serious cup of java and I think we should get something to eat. You’ve got to keep your stamina up!”

Mandy traced her fingers along Tom’s abdomen and flashed a devilish grin, her blue eyes signaling the night was not yet over, before walking back to the bedroom. 

 Shaking his head in confusion, he picked up the Polaroid and walked back to the window with it. The rain had slowed now. The droplets seemed to race each other down the glass, still giving a morphed image of the city below, and a perfect moment to reminisce. 

Smiling, he recalled Eric’s reaction after he had invited him home to Ireland with him rather than Daytona. 

“Bro! Are you serious? I would fucking love to! Only thing is.. Will the chicks be just as hot and willing as they are in Daytona, or do I have to be a gentleman? “

“Ha! More like pretend to be a gentleman.”

“There's a few girls back home that’ll love to meet ya, ya just have to promise that ya won't doink my sister, and you’d better be polite to me mam!” If ya go doin that we’ll have a problem. “ He lifted his fists and laughed. 

“Deal! I always had a thing for redheads anyway.”

Remembering the photo he held, he was brought back from the past. He focused hard on the picture, and wondered how it had been damaged. He hoped to conjure anything that gave him a clue as to who this mystery girl was. A layer had bubbled up as though something had been spilled upon it, but didn’t distort the image of the woman motioning a come hither finger.  

With curly auburn hair falling to her waist, and a milky white complexion, she was typical of the girls back home, as were her hazel eyes. She stood next to a grand oak, and behind her were one of the many rolling hillsides. She donned a green bikini top with white polka dots, cutoff jean shorts, and tall combat boots. Her smile was infectious and Tom could see why the person behind the camera was worthy of having her image captured. The longer he looked, the more the beauty of this stranger compelled him.

“Who are you?”

All was silent in the small apartment except for the rain on the window and a whisper.

“Re..mem..ber.”

The woman in the photo began to laugh an innocent giggle. The wind lifted her hair, and her image sprung to life, as she motioned Tom to join her. 

Startled, he dropped the photo and watched it fall fast to the floor, and stared eyes wide open.

“Come dance with me Tom.”

A long white arm reached up from out of the image. Compelled, Tom accepted the hand.

 He was queasy and completely disorientated. He was moving at an unrealistic speed, causing his environment to blur from focus. Thankfully, the speed of the journey slowed soon enough, and Tom found himself confined within a small dark space with four white walls. 

 Not sure what had happened to the stranger's presence, and now without direction, he felt a bit panicked as he fumbled around the space. He managed to catch his breath and a sense of calm washed over him as a spectrum of colors lit up the room. 

Wonderment and fascination bewildered him as he watched the colors morph into one another. His confined square grew brighter with each marriage of color, and a more defined image of his location became clearer. 

Moments later, everything was within focus. Tom was bemused to find himself deep in the hills behind his home in Limerick.

 His heart leapt with the happiness that only home could bring him. Tom closed his eyes, reached his arms to the sky, and breathed in the air that smelled of rain and dew. The sun, in its golden hour, had decided to give an encore just before setting. He hadn't realized his tears until the warm rays kissed both the tall grass and his face. 

Tom opened his eyes to brush them away, when he was stricken by the beauty of the stranger standing before him. Her hazel eyes pierced him. Her long auburn hair stopped just under her full breasts, and was covered only by the triangles of green fabric. The rebel manner the tongues of her doc martens stuck out rather than lie flat against the loose laced ribbons, was enough to entice any man, but when she flashed him a seductive smile, and coiled her finger in the come hither motion, he was left with no choice but to follow her command.

  Her cut offs showed the very edge of her perfect cheeks, and made following her all the more seductive. He was led past an oak and directly into the hillside where a small door was ajar. The stranger turned around, and offered her hand to Tom.

“Come inside… and I’ll show you anything you want to see.”

Tom took her hand and stepped inside, thinking only momentarily, what a daft situation this was, stepping directly into a hill and all.

Inside, a child size table was set for two with tin tea cups, and sat upon a round yellow rug. Lavender was strung on a rope and hung along the semicircle of the dirt walls. Rectangular shelves had been carved into the dirt as well. One provided a nook for small bottles that glowed oddly against the darkness, another shelved leather bound books, and one held a kerosene lamp.

The beautiful stranger clunked her boots against the earth, as she went to light it, illuminating the small space with a yellow glow. 

“I don't share this place with just anyone, only those I find worthy of the magic. Dance with me.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re handsome and brave and true of heart. I knew that when I met you. Not many others would have stuck up for me the way you did.”

“I only did what was right. Friend or not, Eric was lyin’ through his teeth tonight, sizin up’ the whole lot a you and your girls. Lookin ta get any one a ya in the sack. The way he was carryin’ on with ya, just cuz ya told him like it was,... piss drunk er not, I wasn’ gonna let ‘im hurt ya.”

The stranger laughed. 

“So you punched him and knocked him out cold!”

“Yea, I guess I did. He’ll get back up though, me and Eric we scrap a lot.”

The stranger pulled Tom close. He could feel the warmth of her body, and drew himself in even closer, hoping to ward off the coolness of the damp hillside. The scent of sun ripened strawberries tickled his nose. Whether it was her perfume or a natural scent of the hillside, he paid no mind, allowing her to lead. 

 There was no music, but notes of a song that Tom couldn't quite recognize, sounded far off and played on in his thoughts. The two circled around the room with eyes closed, arms wrapped in embrace. 

The beautiful stranger moved in for a kiss. Tom’s heart raced with anticipation, and the rest of his body followed command, standing at the ready, when suddenly a bright white flash illuminated the dwelling, followed by a mechanical whirring, and then the sound of Eric’s voice. 

“Get your ugly hands off my friend you evil vile woman!”

Eric strode in still piss drunk. Tom could tell by the way of his walk. He looked ridiculous. His white shirt was crookedly buttoned, and half tucked in. His hair was matted to his forehead, and and his eye was blackened with purplish hues and swollen and almost shut. A Polaroid camera was hanging around his neck. Tom could tell he was still piss drunk, not only by the way of his walk, but the clumsy manner in which he was flapping an undeveloped Polaroid over his head.

“Buddy! What the fuck are you thinking? I know a few beers will give any man the goggles but damn dude! Have you seen her? Come on! I’m getting you the hell out of here!”

Tom’s irritation and embarrassment at Eric’s behavior had grown into a surging anger.

“Once wasn’t ennnuff fer ya?”

Tom lifted his fists ready to box Eric’s ears again. He was starting to sober from the adrenaline, which permitted him to look closer at his surroundings.

A stack of bones were piled in the far area of the hut. Inside each of the glowing jars he had earlier thought to be filled with glow sticks, were actually what appeared to be tiny humans, hands pressed against the glass, mouths agape, as if in a scream, forever to be muted. 

He rubbed his eyes in disbelief, took a step back, a bit afraid. 

Eric pulled harder on Tom’s arm.

“What are you waiting for? Do you want her to devour you and steal your soul? Come on man!”

“Whhha?” Tom muttered. 

“Did I?”

“Yea, you did! Now let's go!”

“She’s a faerie! a Harpy! a witch! a Goddamned maneater!”

“I dunno what, with all your folklores round here, but now I have proof!” 

 Tom rubbed his eyes, stumbled backward, and saw the most hagrid woman he had ever seen. Her once Auburn hair was long and gray, and dragged in the dirt at her feet. She wore a threadbare brown sheath, allowing a view of her flattened wrinkled breasts that lied against malformed ribs. Her face, no longer a milky white, now resembled more of a burned leather hyde, with eyes the color of blood, small and beady.

 The creature jumped at the Polaroid with her curled hands and long claws, and tried to snatch it from Eric’s grasp. She hissed, and shouted in tongues, and in so doing, revealed yellow sharpened points of carious teeth, but with no avail.

The creature wailed. “No! You will not have evidence, or I shall be punished furthermore!” 

Eric was dragging Tom outside the entrance of the hillside when with one last attempt, the creature spit at the men. Both Tom and Eric shielded their faces from the saliva in quick defense. 

A blessed defense it was. The men watched in horror as they saw her saliva hit the Polaroid, burning the corner and lifting the first layer of paper, causing it to bubble as if scorched by flame. 

The rest of the night was a blur. Both men passed out swiftly when they reached Tom’s childhood home. Tom on the sofa, and Eric in the easy chair, before taking a last look at the photo, before triumphantly tucking the Polaroid away in his pocket. 

In the morning, he would show Tom the photo over eggs and hash. He had saved his friend, and together they would become millionaires with his harrowing tale and proof that monsters do exist. But right now, he had blue balls, never having scored with an irish girl on spring break, and his eye hurt like hell. 

The thing was, that neither man remembered anything from the night before and only spoke about Tom’s nasty right hook. Eric was a bit embarrassed and even a little resentful that his friend would cock block him so bad. But they let it pass, along with the years. 

“Tom! Babe, wake up!” Mandy tossed her keys on the counter.

“I brought back Seattle's finest grounds, and some seafood from that new place on the corner. Colin Bradshaw, that huge food critic, rates it the best around. I hope you don't mind, but I brought my friend Rachel home for dinner and maybe .. well… “she giggled. 

“Tom?”

Mandy placed the food and coffee on the table, and concerned went to her fiance's side, shaking his shoulder. 

“Ahh, Fuck! Stop it or you’ll yank the damn thing from its socket man! I’m coming ! I see the hag now….”

“Tom, what are you saying? I thought it was really weird, you lying on the floor like that with that Polaroid in your hand. But I know how fixated you can get on something if you can't remember, and I figured maybe you were just tired from sex, so I let you sleep. I went and got us dinner, and I brought…”

Mandy, dragging her hand across Tom’s forehead, said, “You’re covered in sweat!”

And lifted him to his feet. 

Coming from what he thought was a dream, he looked at Rachel standing in his doorway. A big smile stretched across her face, and her hazel eyes shined. She wore a low cut green dress, and her long Auburn hair floated just above her breasts. 

Tom was almost incoherent in his babbling as he stood looking down at the Polaroid laying on the floor, up at Rachael, and then back to the photo.   

The woman in the photo whispered to him, "I'll get it back, and I’ll get you back..”

Tom stomped on the photo.

“No! No you fucking wont!”

“I don't know how you even fucking exist, but you won’t for much longer!”

“Mandy, Get me my phone, I’m calling Eric, But first, find me a fucking lighter and a garbage can.”