Anna Collins stood and waited while her Granddad Willie
Collins, continued the ritual of breaking a pony. She watched while
the animal trotted in circles, first one way then the other, while he
halted, stood, and then ran and cantered and trotted again, all the
time she strained her ears to hear the commands given or see the
signals thrown from the hand down a long rein to the halter, but was
unable to determine any instruction at all. In truth, in the
brightness of the day she could not even see the rein. Yet there must
be one otherwise how could the man control the animal.
Yella Man Collins, was a small, hunched man, with an
over big head, long out-sticking ears and a crop of wild red hair
that at times stood high on his head, or lay matted tight after he
took off his green bonnet:. You could never call his head gear a hat,
or a cap, only a long triangular bonnet. When he was in argumentative
mood his beard and his ears bristled and moved with a motion known
only to their owner.
Daideo Willie, liked people, on lookers, who came to
watch him train ponies to be mesmerised at his skill, without rein,
or whip, or spoken command to control the pony.
Anna knew that this illusion did not tell the story of
the long hours under the full brilliance of a cloudless full mooned
sky when those implements were used to train the animal to a stage
where they were not required.
Fairy magic dust Willie called it. Anna's dad called it
fairy cuteness.
Daideo, greeted her as usual, “Well Geartla. How's the
care?”
Like always she replied, “I have no care.”
Then he chuckled and finished the statement for her,
“That's right, You lot, the family, are my care. Today's task,
Anna, is for you to start writing down the story of my secrets. No! A
manuscript, Bedad. It will contain the secrets of the Rath Mór, the
fairy home. I'm old now well over the allotted span.”
“How old are you Daideo? No one can tell me.”
“That's because I never told any of them. Let's say
that the span of a man's life is long behind me, and the span of
fairy life is nearly over.”
“I thought fairies were immortal?”
“That's what we tell the humans, but in my case living
here, a changeling, among the humans has shortened my years. But
that's old piseogs! We need to start the telling.”
