Blood Will Out

Bryony looked in the mirror assessing what she saw. Large, brown eyes, check. Cute nose, check. Cupid’s bow mouth, check. Shoulder length chestnut hair, a nice chin, firm outline, not too pointed, good cheekbones. Check, check, check.

And then there were her ears. She was sure they were getting bigger. It wasn’t fair. She moved her hair out of the way, took a selfie, then sighed as she checked it against the ones she’d taken over the previous weeks. They were definitely bigger, more pointed. You couldn’t tell it over a week, but when compared to those she’d taken a couple of months ago, there was a noticeable difference.

“Hah, you’re starting to look like Spock.” Rowan, her younger brother, was at the door of her room, grinning at her. “Beam her up Scotty. Her ears are out of this world.”

Bryony threw her hairbrush at him, but it missed as he ran downstairs laughing. Brothers. Who needed them?

At dinner that night, Bryony was careful to keep her hair brushed over her ears, though she was still conscious of them. She sat at the table, trying to ignore her brother, trying to ignore her ears. Neither was easy, especially as Rowan was constantly grinning at her. Their mother was busy round the kitchen, eating as she cleared things away. She was working nights so would be leaving shortly as soon as dad got home.

“Bryony’s got a little secret,” taunted Rowan.

“Shut up Rowan.”

“Well, not exactly little. In fact they’re getting enormous.”

“I said shut up.”

“What’s enormous,” asked mum absently as she loaded the dishwasher.

“Those ears. She looks like a Vulcan.”

At that, mum stood up and looked at them, as if noticing them properly for the first time. “Rowan, will you please stop teasing your sister.”

Dad walked through the front door at that moment, mum grabbed her bag and said she had to go. “Bryony, can I talk to you a minute?” At the front door, she stood in front of her daughter, a look of concern on her face. Bryony flinched as her mum put her hand out to move Bryony’s hair. “Let me see sweetheart.”

Bryony stood there and let her mother move her hair, where she studied Bryony’s ears. 

“Hmmm. Looks like your gran might have been right.”

“Right about what?”

“Look, I’ve got to go. Work. Don’t worry. You need to see gran. She’ll tell you what to do.”

“But mum, I need a doctor to sort these out.”

“Look sweetheart, a doctor won’t be able to fix this. You need to see gran. Go see her tomorrow. She’ll tell you what to do. Now I must go. Love you.”

Bryony was supposed to be seeing friends in town on Saturday, but after a sleepless night, she texted them to say she’d catch up later. Seeing what gran had to say about her ears was far more pressing. 

Gran was surprised to see a downhearted teenager on her doorstep so early on a Saturday morning. “Bryony, come in darling.” 

“Hi gran.” Bryony hugged her gran unenthusiastically before moving past her into the kitchen.

“So, Bryony. What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think there’s anything wrong?”

“Because a young woman with a very busy life does not come to see her gran when she’s other places she could be. Certainly not with a face like that. Right?” Bryony just looked at the floor. “So, why are you here?”

“Mum said I should see you.”

“Why?”

“She said you might be able to help. Look, it’s silly.”

What’s silly.”

“It’s just that... Well… It’s my ears. I think they’re getting bigger.”

“Ah,” said gran knowingly.

“She said you’d be able to help, though I can’t think how. You’re not an ear surgeon, are you?”

Gran smiled. “No child, I’m something much better. And so are you it seems. Will you show me?”

Bryony moved her hair behind her ears and gran reached up with her fine, slender hands and examined them. “Such a fine pair of ears you’ve got there dear. A fine pair. So, I expect you’re wondering why you’ve got them, aren’t you?” Bryony nodded. “Well, let’s have a cuppa and I’ll tell you a bit of history.” She turned to the kettle, while Bryony got cups and saucers out. There was no hurrying gran. She’d tell her tale in her own time.

“So,” said gran as she sipped her tea. “What’s happening in your life that’s put you in the spotlight all of a sudden?”

“Nothing.”

“Come now. It must be something. Ears like that don’t just grow. So, what have you been doing?”

“Just school. Meeting with mates. You know, normal stuff.”

“Anything else?”

“Just the school play.”

“Ah, there it is. You’re putting yourself out there for people to see, drawing attention to yourself. So, what play are you doing?”

“Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“And your part?”

“Puck.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s okay for now but you need to learn to control those ears, rather than letting them control you.” 

“How can I be expected to control them?”

The old woman, ignoring the question, got up, went to the sideboard and opened a drawer where she took out a couple of pieces of paper. She unfolded one and put it in front of Bryony. The other she left face down. “Now, you know what this is, don’t you?”

Bryony had seen this piece of paper many times in the past. “Yes, it’s our family tree.”

“That’s right. Now, this one back here is where it all started.” She pointed to an entry on the paper. “Kitty Long, born 1838, married Harry Shaw. Daughter Jessica born 1861. Jessica was my grandmother. Now, is there anything unusual you’ve noticed about Jessica compared to the rest of the tree?”

Bryony studied it for a while, the lines that went up showing the numerous ancestors, the lines that came down, showing the large families. Except…

“She was an only child.”

“Yes, no birth control in those days. All the other families, with the exception of this branch here”, she pointed to an aunt of her grandmothers, “are a lot bigger. Aunt Eleanor only had one child because her husband was killed in the war soon after, whereas Harry lived to old age. Anything else?”

Bryony looked again, tracing the line down and then back up again. “Harry doesn’t have a line to his parents.”

“Exactly.”

“But I thought that was because you couldn’t find out where he came from?”

“Oh no. We know that Harry was the son of Joseph. They were both gardeners on a large estate. Joseph’s father Tom before him as well.”

“Then why aren’t they on here?”

“Because Harry wasn’t Jessica’s father. Harry, we believe, had no interest in that side of things. He was possibly gay, though he would have hidden it if he was. It was a criminal offence back then remember. And when Kitty got into trouble, it suited them both to get married, she to give a father to her child, he to cover up his preferences. You see, if there was a child, he must have done the deed, mustn’t he? And there was no one else in the area knew different.

“Now he was a good father to Jessie, a good husband to Kitty, but the love he had for Kitty was more brotherly than anything. Therefore no more children.”

“But who was Jessie’s real father? And what’s that got to do with my ears?”

“Jessie remembers her real father visiting them once when she was about five. He’d come to see his child, and to thank Harry for being a good father to her. He gave Harry a gift. A thank you for caring for his daughter.”

“What sort of gift?”

“The gift that whatever he tried to grow would do well. He became head gardener soon after. Of course, at the time Jessie had no idea who this strange person was, but when she was older, she drew a picture of him.” Gran turned over the other piece of paper. It was a picture of a man, tanned skin, large, brown eyes, her eyes, shoulder length brown hair. He was slender, athletically built. And he had large, pointed ears.

“He looks like something out of Lord Of The Rings.”

“You’re not far wrong there. He was a wood elf.”

“A wood elf? Seriously? You’re asking me to believe I’ve got big ears because my – what? – great, great, great grandfather was a wood elf?”

“Because wood elves don’t exist?”

“It’s stupid. Okay, he might have had big ears, but not because he was an elf. I mean, why hasn’t mum got big ears? Why haven’t you?”

“What makes you think we haven’t.” Gran stood, held herself erect, and reached up. The room seemed to darken, her grandmother seemed to grow taller, and as Bryony watched the shadows, she noticed that her grandmothers ears had grown, that her cheekbones had become more pronounced, that she appeared, well, younger.

“You see my dear, I do have large ears. Elf blood will out, no matter how many generations have passed. It’s just that I’ve learned to control them. I’ve learned to blend in. Which is what you are going to need to do.”

“And mum?”

“Your mum never developed them. She never believed. Or maybe controlling them just came naturally to her. Your mum was always good at blending into the background. She’s a midwife, right? And a damned good one. And I bet that she uses some of her talents unknowingly in her work, helping mothers to relax while they give birth. And that’s what you need to learn to do; relax.” And with that, she sat down, became just a little stooped, more lined, and the ears shrank.

“Do I need to give up the play then?”

“No, I think that can go ahead. After all, you’ll be able to play Puck with no prosthetics. But learn to relax and don’t stress about your ears.  The more you stress about them the larger they’ll become. Accept what you are. Come here as often as you can after school and I’ll help.”

That gave Bryony pause for thought. She looked at the picture again. It looked remarkably like her brother. “Will this happen to Rowan too?”

“Probably. But by then you’ll know what to do, what to tell him, won’t you?”

“Oh yes.” But not until she’d made him suffer a bit though.