Chapter 24

When Richie marched towards the palatial manor, he held his head high and kept his shoulders back. He was a complete man, knowing there was a right thing to do and striding forth to do it. It didn’t matter that he had no idea how to do it. How to take Harper home. How to apologize for trading her for a fistful of magic beans.

The only thing he knew for certain was, he was here and he wasn’t leaving without her.

He hoped that didn’t mean he was forced to stay here.

This place was fucking weird!

The cloud-like soft earth gave way to rich loamy soil. A boardwalk path rested on top of the white-peppered black earth. Gardeners, waifish underfed women of timeless appearance gave him only passing looks as they pruned or fed a wild assortment of plants. The clouds were underfoot. How did they water them?

Richie didn’t ask.

He had a purpose and a destination laid out. The manor was a squared horseshoe shape, two-story wings flanked in the garden path. The primary hub was another story tall, with a round capped roof. Pillars flanked the front door.

Morwen had retreated with Harper that way. Richie jogged up to the doors.

They were locked.

“Ha!” He shouted, and banged on the door in frustration.

Nothing. He stepped back, down the steps. It was clear the gardeners came and went through doors at the corners of each wing. He jogged left and entered a service door, nearly bowling over a gray hair and eyed Japanese woman.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered an apology.

“Oh, don’t be,” she said, though quiet and raspy. “Down the hall, silver doors on the left.”

He nodded. She didn’t smile or show any sign of support or conflict. Richie was still overwhelmed by her emotion.

Her directions were good. The silver doors led into the main building. A grand hall with curling staircases up to a balcony. Dirty, from a kicking and struggling Harper, led straight through and under the balcony. Richie bolted in through the doors.

A grand feasting hall awaited him. Two long wooden tables on a stone floor. Windows opened to vast empty expanses of white cloudscape left and right. He saw a flicker of green on his left. A swash of brown and black appeared opposite the green. He turned straight ahead and met the dark eyes of Morwen.

“You’re the third man to ever climb up here,” she said. “And you’ll be the third to leave empty handed.”

“Richie!” Harper squealed gleefully. Morwen thrust Harper to the ground, but Harper simply laughed harshly back up at her.

“Harper and I will be together,” Richie said.

“No,” Morwen said. “You have been paid, your commitment to spoiling your wealth is no cause for me to restore ourselves.”

“I can’t believe I was worth Gabrielle Xu to you!” Harper giggled.

“Well, you were always the one with the hardon for her,” Richie said. “I just kinda liked that one song.”

“And you figured out how to get to me,” Harper said.

“Your adolescent affection is oh so entertaining,” Morwen growled, stepping her foot down onto Harper’s head and into the carpet. Richie began bolting down towards the dais where Morwen awaited him. “But this carpet eater is mine.” She laughed at her own joke.

“Get off of her!” Richie said. But as he reached Morwen, Morwen licked her lips and evaded his swing in a blur. Harper’s voice extended as she was ripped off the carpet, across the stone tile, until one of the tables was between Morwen and Richie.

“The beans are simply one of my products,” Morwen said. “You are outmatched. You are not ready for this confrontation. Go, leave and leave Harper with me.”

“What do you need Harper for?” Richie was breathing hard, seeing red. He clenched his fists and his teeth as he scowled and spoke.

“To tend the garden,” Morwen said.

“You have any number of gardeners,” I said.

“They expire,” Morwen said. “They burnout. I need freshness.”

Harper groaned as Morwen stroked Harper’s cheek. Richie expected Harper to slap the hand away. Harper didn’t make a move. Her eyes burned, but not as hotly as Richie expected to see.

“Find someone else! I grabbed a half dozen girls with your little beans. You know how well they work,” Richie said, his voice cracked. That made him square his jaw and harden his gaze. Morwen chose not to pounce on his moment of weakness.

“Half measures,” Morwen said. “You really think what Harper gave to you is a match for what you took from Oksana or Perla?”

It might be. Richie didn’t speak. From Caitlin or from Nat, it probably was. From Zita or Perla? He’d bet on it. From Oksana or Flo? He was afraid to ask. Morwen didn’t waste a second, she never saw his draining certainty.

“I’ll show you why I need the best. We are the breadbasket of ... Well, to tell you would be unfitting. You’d cling to your shortsightedness and rage and make your silly demand again. I’ll save us time. Follow me.”

Morwen licked her lips again. The vibrant purple muted but hadn’t dissolved. Harper screamed and cursed again as they raced beyond through the doors at the back of the hall. Richie cursed and ran after them.

He ran fast. He ran hard. All of that pushing and prodding he had shared with Harper over their summer and fall, had paid off more in him than he had noticed. There was a kitchen in the back. Two women, faded and ageless, black and First Nations, made a stew of mushrooms and squash. It smelled rich and delicious, at odds with their empty presentation.

Richie only gave them the barest of glances. He rushed beyond the kitchen. Morwen had rushed up a staircase. Floors above Richie, Harper’s voice had stopped sounding impossibly stretched. He grabbed the rail and dashed madly to the open door at the top.

Morwen stood waiting, down along the rim of the roof dome. No rail protected them from the three story fall. The white cloud earth looked soft, inviting. Richie hugged the dome as far away from the edge as he could.

“Don’t drop her!” Richie growled.

Harper was on her feet now. Her bare feet clung to the edge of the roof. She dug her fingers into the meat of Morwen’s right arm. Morwen had a twisted fistful of Harper’s hair.

“She’s a big girl,” Morwen said. “Let’s not waste time. Manipulating time is only for seconds. My strength–”

Harper screamed as Morwen snapped her index finger from Harper’s hair. Harper swayed backwards.

“–could give out any moment.”

“You need her to tend your garden,” Richie said. “No need to bluff.” But he had stopped, a dozen feet away from Morwen and Harper.

“You expect that you’re less of a nuisance than Harper is a boon to me?” Morwen growled.

Richie didn’t. He saw something of bright rage in Morwen’s eyes. He could easily believe her. He forced a smirk. “I’m certain of it.”

“Look!” Morwen said, not confirming nor denying Richie’s smugness. She waved outwards towards the end of the white clouds. The rolling plains turned black. Veins of thunderbolt blue and magma red. The starless night sky that stretched overhead crumbled and sharpened as it hung overhead. “I feed them, so they don’t look any further to feed.”

Richie looked over the horizon. He stepped forward, toes at the edge of the roof. He did it to be in the same place as Harper. One look down, he felt the fear, but after climbing the beanstalk, it wasn’t looking down into infinity. His heart slowed down. The red left his face.

“Me and Harper are going to be together,” he said, turning towards Morwen.

“Harper and I!” Harper growled.

Morwen laughed. She saw Richie and Harper smiling at that. She scowled. Her laugh came again, forced and brutal.

“Give her to me,” Richie said.

“No!” Morwen shook her head. She gestured. “Do you have any idea what’s out there?”

“Giants,” Richie said.

“It has to be giants,” Harper agreed. She seemed calm, holding onto the roof with her toes and holding tightly on Morwen’s elbow.

Morwen screeched. “And do you know what giants do?”

“Grind bones.”

“Make bread.”

Morwen snarled again. “I am the only one keeping your stupid world from being overrun and enslaved!”

“Jack killed a giant with a spear,” Richie said.

“How many nukes does Earth have now?” Harper asked, snickering.

“It’s gotta be at least forty,” Richie said, matching Harper’s laugh.

“You have no idea what would happen!” Morwen said.

“Sure I do,” Richie said. “Me and my girlfriend would leave, you’d grow a fistful of beans and try again.”

“No.” Morwen dragged Harper and pushed her down to her knees. “Follow.” she barked and stormed forward beyond Richie. Richie stepped forward towards Harper who climbed to her feet. He opened his arm for a hug. She walked straight by him.

“Why?”

“Because she’d follow you that closely,” Morwen said, waiting at the door.

“Horseshit,” Richie said. “I could barely get her out for a run most days.”

“She wouldn’t go out at all for herself, for her mother, or for anyone else,” Morwen said. “Do you know how rare that kind of loyalty is?”

Morwen went back inside. Harper followed. Richie looked down. “Go around!” He shouted and rushed after Morwen. This time, the front doors hadn’t been locked. Morwen left them slowly swinging closed as Richie strode back out into the sheltered garden.

Harper was a step behind on Morwen’s heels. Harper was hopping and jumping in her bare feet as she stared with wide eyes.

Gabrielle Xu stood on the boardwalk. Her blue stage costume hugged her body as tightly as the spray on glue could hold it. That was why it was her last one. It was cut strikingly down from her throat to below her belly button. Her knee high platform boots were hardly made for climbing that beanstalk.

“Oh my god!” Harper and Gabrielle said together.

Richie stepped out.

“What are you doing here?” Morwen hadn’t been composed during her conflicts with Richie, but as she looked over the pop star, her forehead veins throbbed and her face paled bloodlessly.

“I came to see the fairy tale,” Gabrielle said. “Are you Richie’s girlfriend? The one who couldn’t make it? Harper?”

“I am–”

“She’s mine! Not Richie’s!” Morwen spat venom over Harper’s words.

“I’m taking her back,” Richie said. “I’m righting the biggest mistake I ever made.”

“This is the biggest mistake anyone could ever make!” Morwen said.

“Oh my god!” Oksana’s pathetic moan interrupted Morwen’s declaration. She was on her knees throwing up at the mouth of the beanstalk. “Oh my god!” Her face was greener than what she had climbed.

“I passed her. She almost didn’t make the climb,” Gabrielle said. “Hi Richie. You ran out on my show.”

Richie ignored her. He walked up and picked up Harper’s hand. “Face it, Morwen. You have to try again.”

“No! You have to go now!”

“Yeah!” Gabrielle said. “The hero climbed the beanstalk and now he gets the treasure.” Gabrielle jumped. “I need to know everything and–”

“Shut up, strumpet!” Morwen barked. Gabrielle’s mouth shut. Her shocked face began twisting into rage. Morwen grabbed a girl in a dress. Was her hair white from age or just that blonde? “Ilsa.”

Ilsa didn’t even need the words. She picked a rose from a bush, snipped it with shears and threw it at Gabrielle’s feet.

“Strumpet? What are you? Some ancient bitch that–” Gabrielle screamed as the rose thorn bit the white flecked black soil. Crisscrossing barbed vines sprouted up wildly around her and dragged her to the ground. Her dress was instantly ruined. Her skin was raked with red scratches. A half dozen dribs of blood welled along their lines.

“Oh my god,” Harper covered her face.

“You have her now,” Richie said. “You don’t need Harper.”

“I need to know the garden will be tended, no matter the willful idiocy of its gardeners,” Morwen said. “I have all of the respect, loyalty, and commitment Harper has for you. You can’t take her from me.”

“She still loves me,” Richie said.

“Love is never enough,” Morwen said.

“It ... It has to be,” Oksana said, finally on her feet.

“Stay off the soil, Oksana!” Richie shouted, as Oksana approached the garden.

“Well, this was fun, wasn’t it?” Morwen said. “Harper, don’t let Richie touch you.”

Harper stepped back, placing Morwen between herself and Richie. Richie looked over.

“Don’t worry! I can drag her out of here!” Nat’s voice cracked through the air like a bullwhip. She turned the corner from the outside of the mansion at a run. Her grass stained sneakers kicked up the black soil into clouds. Zita stuttered and waited at the edge of the dirt on Oksana’s gesture.

“Miroko,” Morwen said, without looking. The Asian woman that had encouraged Richie as he had entered the manor, punched her fist into an unripe pumpkin. She scattered seeds in Nat’s path. Nat screamed, tripping over instant grown roots. She kicked and punched at the fat growing gourds that swallowed her left leg.

“Stop it!” Richie said.

“I tried offering you understanding,” Morwen said.

“Richie! Frankie came up before me!” Oksana shouted.

“Oh my god! Where is he?” Flo’s voice cut the air. She was at the edge of the manor with Zita now.

“I let him inside,” Miroko answered, but her voice was quiet, almost ethereal. No one reacted to hearing her.

“Face it,” Morwen said. “You’re outmaneuvered, outgunned, and outsmarted.”

“And as soon as you’re out-Harpered, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Oh, nice word play,” Zita said.

“He can be clever sometimes,” Harper bragged.

“Stay still,” Morwen said. Harper froze with her mouth half-formed around the word ’sometimes’. She snapped a pod of beans off of a stalk and slit it down the seam with the edge of her thumbnail. She dumped five familiar white beans in her hand. “Harper is mine and can never be yours again.”

She ran the beans across Harper’s skin. Richie saw the familiar colors, save for yellow, manifest on the beans. Morwen walked over to Gabrielle.

“What are you doing?” Her voice quavered.

“Leave her out of this,” Richie said. “I want Harper.”

“It’s OK, you can want her a little bit too,” Harper said, smirking. “Look at her tied up like that. It’s crazy hot, right?”

“Harper!” Zita huffed.

“It’s pretty hot,” Flo agreed.

“Ignore the idiots,” Morwen said, brushing Gabrielle’s hair, but it was hardened with product for her show. Morwen pulled her hand back and shook it clean with disgust. “Stay back or I’ll give horrible instructions to my Harper. There’s a good boy ... Now, Gabrielle was it? I am simply fulfilling my promise to Richie, as he wasn’t man enough to do it himself.”

“What?” Gabrielle said, and Morwen caught Gabrielle’s mouth. Gabrielle snapped her jaw tight and Morwen howled, dragging back her thumb and sucking on it. “Virgin Mary!” She swore and kicked the dirt. “Halima!”

A bent-back brown woman brought over a small awkward shaped fruit and squeezed its juice over Morwen’s fingers. Gabrielle screamed when Morwen grabbed her face once again, this time snapping her jaw shut didn’t pinch Morwen’s thumb.

“Stop! Morwen, I don’t want her,” Richie said. “Anyone short of Harper isn’t good enough.”

“I’ll do better! I promise!” Zita shouted. Richie shot her a sad smile. He saw similar faces on Flo and Oksana. Nat, however, had a confident and understanding look on hers. He smiled at her. She blew a raspberry.

“Stay quiet, Richie,” Morwen said. Gabrielle twisted and groaned in her thorny prison as Morwen pressed the red bean deep into Gabrielle’s throat. A few more red weals grew under the twisting vines. Morwen held her hand in the woman’s mouth until she swallowed.

“And these four must go to waste,” Morwen said. “A shame. I can’t trust you not to waste more of my valuable time.”

“Oh my god,” Gabrielle gasped when Morwen’s hand was pulled from her throat. “Wow...” Her head was bent back and her smile was half drunk. Richie refused to reach her eyes.

“It’s not enough,” Richie said. “There’s gotta be someone else out there.”

“A half hundred, maybe, but are as young and hormone-ridden as you? Down to a handful. Who the girl knows what she has but the man doesn’t?”

“That’s gotta be the same number,” Nat said. “Guys are fucking idiots.”

“It goes both ways, honey,” Morwen said.

“Richie!” Frankie pushed out the side door of the palace. “Fuck! You were out here before? I already checked this fucking place! Hey Flo! Oh, you came up too. Cool”

His last note was for Oksana.

“Otthild,” Morwen said, not looking at Frankie. A skinny woman reached into a tree. Frankie cursed and threw a candlestick at her. She shrieked, quietly, and took the blow to the shoulder.