The Hairy Bride
by D. A. Cairns
Part 1 appears in this issue.
conclusion
Eventually, they arrived at the family home where a light shone over the porch and glowed from within, filling the windows with a disingenuous warmth. It looked like a welcoming home, but Max expected nothing of the sort. His stomach ached from nerves, his mouth screamed for water, or for something stronger.
‘We could sit here for a while, if you think it will make any difference,’ said Bella.
Max forced a tense, mirthless laugh, wrestled a tsunami of fear and negativity. Finally, taking a deep breath, he switched off the engine, unfastened his seatbelt, pushed open the door and got out of the car. He walked around to open the passenger door for Bella. As she stood, he looked into her eyes, searched the mystery deep for power to confront the nightmare scenario he was imagining. Bella smiled. ‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘Someone will have spotted us already.’
Although Max expected anger and threats of violence from Bella’s family, which he received upon arrival, before Bella could open her mouth to introduce him, he hadn’t expected the frosty atmosphere which filled the living room following the initial eruption. Instead of being asked to leave, he was apparently expected to stay and to suffer psychological torture at the hands of Bella’s family. The most surprising child of this dread silence was an invitation to stay for supper.
‘I will tell you my Bella’s secret and put an end to this nonsense for both of your sakes,’ said Bella’s father, staring at Max, causing him to cower inside. He became a little boy fleeing a ravenous monster, dodging and darting to evade its clutches, searching for a safe haven. Max allowed the terrorized child inside to keep running while he, standing before this intimidating man, concentrated on standing tall, projecting strength and determination.
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Max. ‘I’d love to stay for a coffee and hear this story, but...’ He almost went too far by declaring the story would fail to change his mind, but thought better of it. Having let the ‘but’ out, he needed to finish the sentence. The room was full of expectant ears. ‘But, I won’t stay long. I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome, and it’s getting late.’
Bella’s father looked at him suspiciously, but eventually submitted his antipathy and doubt to good manners. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Come. Come.’
Max glanced at Bella, desperately wanting to embrace her, to feel her heat and power, but she was across the room, and the movements of her brothers indicated they would not be permitted to be close to each other.
They sat at a large wooden dining table, which shone with a declaration of wealth and exclusive taste. Max was ushered to a seat, while Bella’s father sat down opposite him. Her brothers took seats beside their father, continuing to glare at Max as though wanting to hurt him. They reminded Max of Dobermans straining at the leash to attack and maul an intruder. With a single command from their master, they would pounce, crush the invader’s bones, and devour him.
It was clear neither Bella nor her mother would be joining them. Bella delivered a silver tray containing small porcelain coffee cups, a sugar bowl, and a small carafe of fresh milk departing without a word.
Bella’s father nodded at the son seated immediately to his left who stood, picked up one of the cups form the tray and placed it on the table in front of Max.
‘Help yourself to the milk and sugar,’ said Bella’s father. ‘I am Giovanni Greco. You will not see my daughter Bella outside your duties at Saffron Pomegranate, and I will tell you why. I was born in Italy, the eleventh child of my parents who emigrated from Greece to escape persecution by ignorant and prejudiced fools, intoxicated to the point of stupidity by false religion.’
Giovanni sipped his coffee, while Max desperately hoped he would get to the point of the story.
‘For centuries,’ said Giovanni, ‘Greco women have had a special quality which set them apart from others. To avoid persecution and ridicule it was concealed. In fact, the way Greco women presented themselves was the cause of much jealousy among less attractive women and much attention from hardy young men who were easily seduced by their rare beauty. With the inevitable march of time, it became increasingly necessary to protect our Greco women, to ensure they only married worthy men. Men worthy of the tradition and culture of our people. Men worthy of the priceless treasure.
‘Don’t you want your coffee?’ he said gesturing at the untouched cup in front of Max.
Max looked at it, picked it up, sipped it for the first time. It was so strong he winced, which caused the men seated opposite him to chuckle.
‘Greco women,’ continued Giovanni, ‘are like that coffee, Max. Do you understand?’
Although he didn’t, Max nodded, then forced himself to drink more of the bitter concoction to prove he could handle it.
‘Are you familiar with the sixth-century Carthaginian explorer, Hanno?’ said Giovanni.
Who would be? thought Max. ‘No, sir.’
‘Hanno travelled to Africa and discovered a tribe of large hairy women on a small island off the west coast.’
Max sat nonplussed.
‘Have you heard of the mythological creatures known as Harpies?’
‘It rings a bell,’ said Max, scratching his chin, delving into his memory for movie images. ‘Weren’t they monsters in Jason and the Argonauts?’
The Greco brothers sniggered in unison. Max had experienced a modicum of relief in the instant before Giovanni snuffed out the levity with a sinister smile.
‘They were,’ he said, ‘fearsome spirit creatures with long hair, the torso of a full-breasted woman, but were otherwise bird-like in appearance. They appeared in sudden, short bursts of wind. Zeus sent them to earth to snatch away people and things.’
Max was lost. Giovanni’s long-winded story seemed to be fragments of several stories tossed together like the elements of a bad salad. Although he didn’t want any more of the foul-smelling brew he had been served, he drank for something to do.
‘Some time, long, long ago the gods banished the Harpies to the island of the large hairy women. With few males on the island, and all of them slaves, war erupted between the Harpies and the hairy women to ensure the survival of their species by securing the services of the male slaves. The war was a drawn-out, bloody conflict which decimated the population of the island, including all the male slaves, and the pregnant women and harpies.
‘It was seen as a fate too cruel, so the hairy women and the Harpies called a truce and cried out to the gods for mercy. Hearing their prayers, Zeus permitted some minor gods to service the surviving females who, in season, bore semi-divine female offspring who bore no likeness to their parents other than hairy faces. The children accepted their facial hair as a mark of uniqueness.’
Giovanni finished the remnants of his coffee and studied Max’s face. Naturally, Max walked right into the space the older man had created. The void, the pause at the end of the story, the web into which he invited his prey.
‘And what became of these beautiful, hairy women?’ said Max.
‘I’m glad you asked,’ said Giovanni, without a shred of irony in his tone or expression.
‘Eventually they left the island and joined with society, becoming wives of outstanding repute to deserving men as a reward for their nobility and integrity.
‘So, you see Max,’ said Giovanni, leaning slightly forward, lowering his voice for the first time since Max had arrived. ‘You see why I cannot let you continue this relationship with my Bella.’
It might have been the coffee, or shock, or simple-mindedness, but Max wasn’t able to join the dots. Not straight away.
‘The man we choose for her will be the only man to see her true self. She will reveal her secret and he will love her more, not less. He will not only love her, he will worship her, because she will complete him. She will be the strength for his weakness, the light for his darkness, the faith for his doubt.’
Giovanni stood suddenly. ‘Leave my house now, Max,’ he said. ‘Cast off these foolish delusions. You are not worthy of my Bella, and I forbid you to see her outside of work.’
* * *
Max blinked as Bella squeezed his hand. ‘Max, are you alright?’
He looked into Bella’s eyes, for they were all he could see as her face was covered with a thick veil of patterned lace. He looked and saw the power, marveled at the recollection of how resolute Giovanni had been, and how defeated he felt as he was shown the door without even being given the chance to say goodbye to his beloved Bella.
Clothed in shame, he had staggered back to his car, berating himself for his cowardice. He hadn’t uttered even one word in his own defence. Giovanni had masterminded the whole affair and achieved his purpose of belittling Max and deterring him from seeing Bella again.
Slumped behind the wheel of his car, he had believed it was over and was so lost in self-pity he had had not given a single thought to what this secret was, not why he was considered unworthy even though Giovanni didn’t know him. He hadn’t been given a chance. He’d walked in the door of Bella’s home like a lamb prepared for the slaughter. Had Bella known what would happen? Why hadn’t she warned him?
‘Max!’ said Bella, more urgently. ‘What’s wrong?’
Max smiled at her, indulging himself by remembering the last part of the story, the part where Bella came running out of the house after fifteen minutes or so, jumped in Max’s car and told him to drive.
‘I’m fine,’ he said, eventually. ‘I love you.’
Bella looked at him quizzically. ‘I love you too,’ she whispered.
The ceremony proceeded without interruption or delay until Max and Bella exchanged vows and rings, then had the priest bless them before pronouncing them man and wife. ‘You may kiss the bride,’ he said.
Max carefully lifted Bella’s veil to reveal her secret. The final irrefutable proof that he was worthy of this angel’s love was on Bella’s top lip: a thin, black moustache of exactly the style he envied. He kissed her deeply and slowly, enjoying both the taste and the soft brush of hair against his naked lip.
When they had finished, as the applause grew louder, they turned to face their family and friends. There were several audible gasps, but the reaction Max noted, and was most interested in, was the front row. Giovanni’s mouth was open in shock as he gripped the hand of his wife, who had fainted beside him.
Copyright © 2023 by D. A. Cairns
