Griselda
The
One Where Rachel Is Brave
They were walking
towards Central Perk, when Phoebe suddenly stopped and started looking
around, almost seeming to sniff the air. "What's up,
Pheebs?" said Chandler. "Unstable aura alert?" "You can
joke," said Phoebe, "but I'm sensing something really weird in the air." "All I can sense
is gas fumes," said Ross jokingly. "Oh, you!"
said Phoebe, sounding rather annoyed. "I'm telling you, I have this
really strange feeling, and I think it concerns us. Maybe we shouldn't go to
Central Perk tonight." "Oh, come
on," said Ross. "You can't expect us to use your feelings as the
basis for making a rational decision. Stuff like that just doesn't happen.
I'm going ahead, anyway." He set off decisively,
followed by Chandler and Monica. Joey hesitated and looked at Phoebe.
"Come on, Pheebs," he pleaded. "It won't be the same without
you." Phoebe shook her head
and looked mulish. "No. The feeling's getting stronger all the time. If
you're smart, you'll stay with me." "Well, I'm
staying," said Rachel. "I've had enough of Ross in his Mr.
Scientist mood." "Come along, you
guys," yelled Monica from the corner. Joey looked from one group to the
other, agonised at having to make a decision, then waved. "I stay
here," he said firmly. "Great," said
Phoebe. "Looks like we finally got our own gang. So what shall we
do?" Before either of the
others could reply, they heard a strange noise from round the corner, like a
shout. "Hey, what was that? Sounded like Chandler!" cried Joey, and
he set off for the corner at a run, with Phoebe and Rachel close behind. But
when they rounded the corner there was nothing to be seen, nor were their
friends visible in Central Perk. "Where did they
go?" said Joey, and then, before the horrified gaze of Phoebe and
Rachel, he disappeared into thin air. They barely had time to cry out when an
invisible force seized them too, and they felt as if they were being pulled
off their feet and stretched, while everything in front of them first gained
a multicoloured halo, then disappeared into blackness. It was not painful,
but completely disorienting, so that when their feet seemed to touch solid
ground again, they staggered and clutched each other tightly. When their vision
cleared, they looked at each other in amazement, for their dress had changed
completely, to something that Phoebe thought would be quite appropriate for a
Hercules or Xena episode, but was completely out of place for modern New
York – not that they appeared to be in New York now. Rachel was wearing a
leather outfit over a short brown tunic, leaving her upper arms and knees
bare; from a belt at the waist hung a pouch and – Phoebe blinked – what
looked like a short sword. Phoebe herself was wearing a kind of shirt and trousers
of coarse patterned cloth, and stitched hide shoes that looked crude beside
Rachel's neat sandals, and from her belt hung a long knife and a pouch. Even their hair
had changed: hers was now tied back in a ponytail, while Rachel's had turned
red, the way she had worn it for a while, and fanned out around her neck and
shoulders. "What in the world
has happened to us?" said Rachel, almost in a whisper. "I don't think
we're in Kansas any more," said Phoebe. The buildings around them looked
to be of adobe, mostly low, with wood fittings; some had signs outside that
she could read. "Where's
Joey?" cried Rachel, sounding panicky. "Where are the others? Oh,
Phoebe, what are we going to do?" Phoebe gave her a
comforting hug, though she felt a little unnerved herself. But she also felt
strengthened by the knowledge that she had been vindicated: weird stuff did happen. She was looking forward to
confronting Ross over this, when they found him. "Let's keep
calm," she said. "Ten to one they are somewhere around here. We
just have to look for them. When we are all together we can figure out what
happened and what, if anything, we can do about it. For my money, we have
landed in the past somehow. Maybe, we'll go back after a while. At least,
that's what the SF I read suggests would happen." Rachel did not look
very reassured. "But we've got
weapons!" she wailed. "This could be dangerous." ----- Joey landed on his
feet, but for a moment everything was spinning in front of his eyes and he
had to shut them. When he looked again, everything had changed, even – he
looked himself over – his clothes. He was wearing some kind of long shirt,
belted at the waist. Apart from sandals, that was about it, and everything
was even more beat up than his regular stuff. At least it was a hot day. He
looked around: where were the others, and where was this? It looked like some
little Mexican town from a Western movie, but he could read the signs. He
could see one in the distance, The Gold Bosom: that looked promising. But, he
thought suddenly, what was he going to do for dough? He had not started out
with much, and even that might have gone, since he had no pockets. But there
was some kind of pouch thing on his belt: opening it, he found a few small
coins, all brown – he didn't recognise them, but he guessed they wouldn't get
him far. "Short of dough,
Shamus?" came a deep, rather foreign-sounding female voice, along with a
slap on the shoulder. "I buy you a drink, maybe?" Turning, he saw a
large woman smiling at him, a rather muscly but not unattractive blonde, who
was wearing a sword, it looked like. As he took her in, she peered at him. "Say, you're not
Shamus," she said in a puzzled voice. "No, I'm
Joey," he said, and flashed her his best grin. "But could I have
Shamus's drink?" The woman blinked, then
smiled. "Well, if you're not Shamus, you look like you could be his
brother … but younger and prettier. Come on, I buy you a drink anyways."
She put her arm through his. "So, you're Joey, eh? Me, I'm Hanufa." He grinned again.
"So, how you doin'?" Hanufa stopped dead and
stared at him. She seemed to flush a little, and moistened her lips.
"You know," she said, "Somehow I don't want a drink just yet,
I think. I want … something else first." "Fine with
me," said Joey happily. "You got a room?" ----- Olaf the Storyteller
was sitting in Loud Lilina's over an early drink, just after she'd opened
again following her afternoon break, and thinking of not much, as he liked to
put it, when suddenly two guys and a doll walked in very slowly, as if they
had never entered such a place before. In fact, this seemed quite a likely
possibility, since they were all dressed up like Rich Hill folks, and at
first he thought one guy and the doll belonged to the Patroma family, for
they had that look about them, while the other guy resembled Avidius Tiro at
first glance. This was so surprising that he took a moment to notice that
they were not displaying any of the self-confidence that you would expect of
such people, but huddled together, looking about and whispering. Finally
Lilina spoke up. "Can I get you something, sirs and lady?" she said
in a most polite tone, evidently thinking that they smelled like dough. The guy who looked like
Avidius Tiro said, "Well, ah, do you have any coffee?" "Not something I
ever hear of," said Lilina. "Beer, wine, mead, even spirits I can
do." "Beer," said
the doll in a decided voice. "Beer is just what I need." "But how are we
going to pay?" Olaf heard the guy mutter. "No problem,"
said the dark guy, who looked like her brother. "Look, there are coins
in this purse, though I don't recognise any of them." Then Lilina set the
beers on the bar and said, "That will be three silvers," which
indicated to Olaf that she took them for suckers, since this was gross
overcharging, even for her best beer. The dark guy forked over three Lunars
without complaint, so maybe she was right, at that. Then he and the other guy
took the beers over to a table where the doll had taken a seat, after giving
the stool a thorough wipe with her sleeve. She held up her hand and would not
let them put the beers down until she had wiped the table also. "This
place is filthy," Olaf heard
her hiss at them, but they just shrugged. "Dirt is the least of our worries,"
said the dark guy. Then they all took a
pull, and made it quite clear by their expressions that they did not like it
at all. "This is beer?"
said the doll in a disgusted voice, loud enough for everyone to hear, as she
slammed the mug down. "My best,"
said Loud Lilina, sounding rather hurt. "Perhaps my lady would prefer
wine?" she added, in a way that Olaf recognised as indicating that she
might be about to blow. Clearly the guys recognised this too, for they
hastily took another pull. "It kind of grows on you," said the dark
guy, and the other nodded. This was clearly not his true opinion, but it
calmed Lilina down. She leaned on the bar and looked at them. "You're strangers
in town?" she said. "We are,"
said the dark guy. "In fact, we would appreciate knowing just where we
are, for we arrived here in a way that I do not understand." "You are in the
city of Pavis," said Lilina proudly. "You are not related to the
Patromas? You sure look like them." "No," said
the dark guy. "I am Ross Gella, and this is my sister Monica, and this
is Chandlabing." Olaf had to use
considerable will-power to refrain from laughing, and Lilina did not even
try; she let out a great cackle. This seemed to burn up Chandlabing, but he
did not protest. However, the doll
called Monica looked really mad. "I see nothing to laugh at," she
said, with plenty of frost in her tone. "Well, my lady,
you have to take your laughs where you can find them in this burg," said
Lilina. "Your parents must be real jokers, eh, mister Chandlabing?"
and she cackled again. "Oh yes, a laugh a
minute," he said, pulling a face. "But enough of this sophisticated
badinage. We need more information. Just whereabouts is Pavis, and what year
is it, and all that?" Lilina scratched her
head. "I never pay too much attention to the year," she said,
"and I do not know how to explain where Pavis is. Olaf, help me out
here." They all turned to
Olaf, who had no idea what year it was either, but he wanted to be helpful.
These people looked as if they had significant dough, a type he was always
ready to help, and so he said, after a moment's thought, "The year I do
not know, but I can tell you that Pavis is on the Zola Fel river, on the
eastern edge of the Plaines of Prax, and we are now ruled by the great and
glorious Empire of the Red Moon. Is this any help?" The other two looked at
Ross Gella, who shook his head. "I do not recognise any of these
names," he said. "So we still do not know where we are, or
when." They looked very down, so Olaf decided to play a hunch that he
had been developing. "Do you know a person called Redfox?" he said.
"She arrives here claiming to be from somewhere that no one ever hears
of, although she can speak like us, just the way you are doing." "No, we don't know
Redfox," said Ross Gella. "But what you say is interesting. Please
accept our hospitality and tell us more." "You can have my
beer," said Monica, pushing it across the table as Olaf moved over to them.
Ross Gella looked at her reproachfully and signalled to Lilina for another,
which Olaf heartily approved of, but he decided to take Monica's also, for
she had really drunk very little of it and it would be a shame to let it go
to waste. Then he began on the story of Redfox, which they listened to with
much interest, but when he mentioned a healing spell Ross Gella stopped him. "A spell?" he
said. "You mean, like magic? You have magic here?" "Certainly,"
said Olaf in surprise. "Do you not have magic where you come from?" The other two shook
their heads, but Ross Gella looked thoughtful. "We have stuff that you
would think is magic," he said, and then he said to the others, sounding
like a Sage, "Arthur C. Clarke said once, any sufficiently advanced technology
is indistinguishable from magic." Their expressions suggested that they
heard this kind of stuff from him all the time and it did not impress them.
"If you have spells that actually work," he said to Olaf, "we
are a long way from home." Just then, Olaf saw
Hanufa walk in with a guy who looked very like Sweet-Talking Shamus, except
that he was younger and not so experienced-looking. Hanufa was all over him,
so Olaf could guess what they had just been up to. The strangers jumped up
excitedly and hugged him. "Boy, am I glad to
see you," he said. "I
was afraid I was here on my own. Oh, this is Hanufa." "Pleased to meet
you," said Hanufa, looking at their finery in an awestruck way. As they began to sit
down together, Chandlabing smiled at the new guy and said, "How do you
do it, Joe? You haven't been here two minutes, and already you've hooked up
with someone." "It's his only
talent," growled Ross Gella. "Joey, where are Raychul and
Feebee?" "Well, they were
right behind me," said Joey. "So I guess they're somewhere around
here too, but maybe they will have changed the way we have." "You will have a
beer now, Joey?" said Hanufa. "It is what I like to drink
myself." "Sure," he
said, and Hanufa ordered two. Olaf noticed that Monica was watching carefully
as she paid for them, and seemed annoyed, muttering something to Chandlabing
about their having been overcharged, but he just shrugged and said, "Let
it go. We don't want any trouble, and it's not as if we're going to buy any
more." Hanufa brought the
beers over and downed half of hers, the way she always did with the first
one. Joey took a good pull at his also, and his eyes practically bulged out.
"Wow!" he said. "That has a kick!" Lilina, who had been
looking at him appreciatively, growled, "At least some folks appreciate good beer. The next one's on me,
Joey." Olaf saw Chandlabing
roll his eyes. "Every time," he muttered. "Every single goddam
time." ----- "Well, I don't
think we're going to find them by walking around," said Rachel grumpily.
She had accepted Phoebe's assurance that she could protect them in any
trouble, but she still felt very uneasy in this place. Not only was it hot
and dirty, the few people they saw kept giving them strange looks. One had
even stopped and begun to say something, then looked closer, shaken his head,
and walked off. "Can you think of
a better plan?" said Phoebe. "This place isn't so big. Surely we
must come on them soon." "They could be
walking around just ahead of us," said Rachel disspiritedly. "By
the way, have you noticed how people look at us?" "Yes, as if they
think we're people they know," said Phoebe. Just then someone
approached them who looked strange even by the standards of this place. She
looked most like some weird Goth type, with very skimpy black clothing, a
nose-ring and tattoos, but she had her head shaved apart from a mohican of
blood-red locks standing up straight down the middle. Her arms were scarred
and muscly, and she carried a sword. "Is that you,
Lucilla?" she said, peering at Rachel. "I thought for a moment it
was Griselda, but you are too tall." "No, I am not
Lucilla, I am Rachel Green," said Rachel snappily. "I don't know
Lucilla, or Griselda either." "Well, you look
very like them," said the Goth. "You must be strangers here. Anyone
who has been here more than a day knows about Griselda," she added, in a
way that suggested that she did not care for Griselda much. "We certainly are
strangers," said Phoebe. "We don't even know where we are, let
alone how we got here." "Why, you are in
Pavis," said the Goth, acting rather surprised. "And what do you
mean, you don't know how you got here?" Phoebe tried to explain
what had happened to them, with Rachel's help, while the Goth listened
attentively. At the end she shook her head. "I heard that something
similar happened around Griselda a while back. Perhaps she attracts people
who look like her in some magical way; it would be just like her. So you are
looking for your friends, eh? Maybe I can help: I can show you every eating
house and bar in Pavis, if you think they might be in one of those." "That sounds like
a great idea," said Phoebe enthusiastically. "Thank you very much,
miss -?" "Call me Red
Hot," said the Goth, "and it will be my pleasure," she added,
with a strange smile that Rachel did not feel happy about; but she recognised
that they needed any help they could get. ----- Monica was finding it
hard to conceal a growing sense of irritation. Ross's point that it was best to
sit still and let Rachel and Phoebe come to them was fair, she supposed, but
instead of discussing what they might do about their general situation, the
guys seemed perfectly happy to sit around drinking the awful beer and
chatting with the locals, of whom there was an increasing number. This seemed
a popular bar with people of a certain kind. Nobody who had come in looked
very respectable, and several carried weapons, like this Elsa from Adari, a
hard-looking woman who was gazing at Joey in a very predatory way, ignoring
the hostile glances that she was receiving from Hanufa. Naturally, Joey was
having a great time. The fact that his female admirers were carrying weapons
did not seem to bother him in the least, but he was mostly talking to a man
everyone called Shamus, who could have been his older brother and evidently
fancied himself as a lady-killer.
He certainly had a rough charm, but after intercepting one of Ross's
glares, he had not tried anything on with her. Joey and Shamus
suddenly let out a great roar of laughter, in which Ross joined and then,
rather less easily, Chandler. Without meaning to, Monica gave out a great
sigh. A smallish dark woman sitting nearby leaned across. "Don't be too hard
on your menfolk," she said quietly. "They've had a bad scare, and
they don't know what to do, though I bet they're racking their brains to
think of something, at least Ross and Chandla are. It seems to me there's
nothing you can do, in fact, except wait for whatever brought you here to
take you back." "You believe us,
then?" said Monica, warming to her instantly. "Oh yes," the
other said. "When I was in the employ of the Patromas, the family that
you and your brother so much resemble, I heard some very strange things. I am
Hilda, by the way." Monica held out her
hand. "It's good to meet one sensible person." Hilda took her hand and
grinned. "Not as sensible as all that," she said, "or I would
not be adventuring for a living. But it beats working as a tied servant,
which is what I was." "How did you get
away?" asked Monica, intrigued. "Well, it was
Griselda who helped me …" Hilda began. "Why, there she is
now." Monica turned to see a
very small red-headed woman enter the bar. She was dressed quite simply in a
tunic and leathers, with some jewellery here and there, and she too carried a
sword, although hers was notably short. She was extremely attractive, with a
curious look of Rachel about her, but she was clearly in a bad mood, although
she acknowledged various greetings in a queenly sort of way. After looking
around, she came over to Hilda. "I just heard that
there is another lookalike of mine going about Pavis," she said.
"Have you seen or heard anything?" Hilda shook her head.
"Absolutely not. But if you sit around here she is bound to show up, so why
not sit down and relax and hear the amazing story that Monica here has to
tell?" Griselda smiled rather
reluctantly and pulled up a stool. "It's all very well for you, Hilda.
Nobody goes around impersonating you." "Ah, but then I'm
not famous," said Hilda, with a glint in her eye. "Just as well
too, or the Patromas would be after my hide." Griselda laughed out
loud and shook her head. "Best to keep quiet about that. You never know
who might be listening." Just then Ross and Chandler
jumped to their feet with glad cries of "Rachel! Phoebe!" To her
immense relief, Monica saw her friends coming into the bar, accompanied by a
strange-looking woman who wore her hair in a sort of red cock's comb on the
top of her head. As she pushed forward to hug them, Monica noticed to her
surprise that Rachel was dressed very like Griselda, while Phoebe looked more
like the average person around here. "Oh God, I'm so glad to see you
guys!" cried Rachel, with tears in her eyes. ----- "Very touching,
I'm sure," came an angry voice, and they turned to see Griselda on her
feet, hands on hips, glaring at Rachel. "But I have a word or two I want
to say to you, miss Aims-to-look-like-me." Rachel was terrified.
She had never seen anyone look as fierce as this small woman whose dress was
so very like hers, only rather better quality, and she felt quite unable to
speak. "Once
before," said the woman, "I had this problem. Maybe I will have to
deal with you a bit more severely than I did with the other, so that word
gets out." "I am not doing
this on purpose," Rachel managed to stammer. "I found myself like
this when I came here. I don't even know who you are." If anything, this
seemed to infuriate the small woman further. "Then why would you be
dressed like that?" she
snarled. "It's my style; everyone knows that." "Griselda, you
don't understand," put in a dark woman sitting near her. "These
people – " "Be quiet,
Hilda," snapped Griselda, and Hilda stopped talking, though she did not
look happy about it. Griselda advanced a
step, and everyone withdrew except Rachel and her friends. "Look," said
Ross, stepping forward, "we are not responsible for the way we look. Our
clothes were changed into this gear when we got here." "Shut it!"
hissed Griselda, whipping out a dagger. "I have no quarrel with you
others. Just let me deal with her." "You'll have to
come through me first!" cried Phoebe, pulling her knife and sinking into
a practised-looking knife-fighter's crouch. Griselda looked up at
her. "Why do you look like Bella? What is going on here?" she
almost screamed, then made a lightning move. The knife clattered to the floor
and Phoebe clutched a bleeding wrist. "I'm
serious about this!" Griselda
yelled. "Now step aside, you others. Don't worry, I won't kill her, just
mark her a little." "No
way," growled Ross, taking one of his martial arts poses, while Monica
stood next to him, her fists up, looking remarkably fierce, and Chandler and
Joey took position beside them, scared but determined; even Phoebe fell in
behind them, trying to wrap something round her wrist. Rachel felt herself
tearing up at her friends' complete readiness to defend her, and told herself
fiercely that she must stop being such a wuss. A sense of fury began to fill
her – fury at the situation that they had been put in, for no fault of their
own, fury at Griselda, who would not give them a chance to explain
themselves. Remembering how she had dealt with Joey's obnoxious girlfriend
Katie who would keep hitting
people, she pushed between Ross and Monica and came nose to nose with
Griselda, who seemed a bit taken aback. "Will
you quit bullying?" Rachel
yelled and kicked her as hard as she could on the ankle. With a cry of pain
Griselda dropped her dagger and fell. There was a gasp all around, and then
Red Hot, who was near the front, began to laugh. Understanding came to
Rachel, and she rounded on her. "You set this whole thing up, you bitch!" she shouted, and drove
both fists as hard as she could into Red Hot's stomach. Taken by surprise in
the middle of her laugh, Red Hot collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.
By now almost unable to see for rage, Rachel pulled her sword, squared off
with her hands clamped on the hilt, and screamed, "Anyone else want some?" "No
swords!" yelled the fat woman behind the bar, and others repeated it,
while her friends called urgently, "Rachel, it's okay," and
"Calm down". Then
Hilda came forward and gently unlaced Rachel's fingers from the sword-hilt.
"No need for that," she said calmly. "No one here will do you
harm." "I
wouldn't be so sure of that," growled Griselda from a stool, where she
was sitting nursing her ankle and glowering at Rachel. "Just wait till I
get this healed," and she began muttering to herself. "No,
Griselda, I cannot let you do this," said Hilda. "You are not
giving these people a chance to explain themselves, but there is clearly
magic involved. This must be why they all look like people here, and my
belief is, they came the same way Redfox did." Before
Griselda could reply, two big women wearing swords stepped forward,
grim-faced. "We stand with Hilda here," said one. "No one
hurts Joey or a friend of his." One or two other women stepped forward
also, and there was a murmur round the bar that seemed approving. Griselda
looked thoughtful, and then nodded. "Okay," she said, and stood up
easily, as if she'd never been kicked. "What you say does indeed sound
possible. I had forgotten Redfox. So, I apologise. Here, you that looks like
my cousin Bella, I can fix that wrist for you." Phoebe
came forward hesitantly, and Griselda took hold of her wrist and muttered
over it as she had over her own ankle. A smile spread across Phoebe's face.
"Wow!" she said. "I like
this place. How do I learn to do stuff like that?" This caused some
laughter, which died away as Red Hot got to her feet, evidently still in
pain. "I notice no one cares about my stomach," she growled. "No,
and why should we?" snapped Hilda, as she turned on Red Hot. "I
believe Raychul here has it right: you brought her and Griselda together
deliberately, hoping for a fight. Now quit it, or we'll all take a hand,
eh?" The other women grunted agreement, and Griselda said lightly,
"I might even get involved myself." Red Hot scowled, spat on the
floor and pushed her way out. Griselda
stepped up to Rachel and held out her hand. "No hard feelings," she
said, with a smile. "That was neatly done, and I especially owe you for
belting out Red Hot. I've been wanting to do that for a long time, but we
don't fist-fight much here." "I
couldn't do it again," Rachel admitted, taking her hand. "I was
just so angry." Getting a
close look at Griselda, she realised how small she was – somehow she seemed
able to project a bigger impression of herself – and also how attractive,
with very blue eyes that were now looking at her gravely. After a moment,
Griselda gave a little laugh, released her hand, and said, "Anger helps
sometimes. You want a drink?" Behind her back Monica made violent
gestures suggesting that this was not a good idea, but Rachel ignored her.
She had no wish to risk offending Griselda, now that they had a chance to be
on good terms. "Why not?" she said. "A little wine,
perhaps?" Once
they were all settled down again, Monica looked around in dismay. Griselda
and Rachel were chatting easily, Phoebe and the guys were the centre of
attention from most of the rest of the bar, who were vocally admiring their
bravery – everyone was having a good time except her. Someone patted her on
the knee. She turned to see Hilda, looking sympathetic and holding out a
small mug. "Try
this," she said. "It tastes a lot better than the beer."
Monica sampled it cautiously and found it to be a quite drinkable wine. "You
looked good in there," said Hilda. "You must love Raychul very
much, to be ready to fight for her like that." Monica
smiled. "We have been best friends since we were kids," she said.
"But I'm glad I didn't have to fight, in the end. Wasn't Rachel
amazing?" Hilda
grinned. "The bravery of ignorance," she said. "Griselda and
Red Hot are the two toughest fighters in Pavis, you know. But it was bravery
nonetheless." She peered at Monica. "You don't look too
happy." "I
just want to go home," said Monica. "We could be a lot worse off
here, I can see that, and it would be nice to get to know you, but it's not home!" Suddenly
Phoebe jumped up. "Ooh, ooh, I'm getting that feeling again," she
cried, "Guys, get together, or we may be scattered all over New
York." Slapping
Hilda on the shoulder and saying "Thanks for everything," Monica
ran to Phoebe. "Bye, Griselda," cried Rachel, "Wish I could
stay," and then, as they all clung to each other, the amazed faces of
Lilina's customers began to whirl round them and then disappeared in
blackness. After a long moment, they landed with a bump, back on the corner
near Central Perk and in their normal clothes again, as they saw when they
opened their eyes. It was now nearly dark. "Oh, thank God!" cried
Monica, and burst into tears. They had just finished calming her down when
Rachel said, "I want you guys to know that you are the best … the best
…" and then she broke down and had to be comforted too. "Well,
Rach, you were pretty impressive in there," said Ross. "That is the
closest I have ever seen to a genuine old-style battle rage." "I
wish we could have stayed longer," said Phoebe wistfully. "No,
you don't!" cried Monica. "No, she doesn't!" she yelled at the
sky. "I want to stay here where it's safe." "Okay,
nobody move and nobody will get hurt. Just hand us your money," said a
voice, and they turned to see themselves half-surrounded by three punk kids
with knives. "The
hell with that!" yelled
Rachel, charging straight at one swinging her long-stringed purse, which got him
in the eye and made him jump back, and then turning and kicking out at
another. Her eyes alight, Monica threw a fist at this one and hit him hard on
the shoulder, sending him staggering away. "Wahoo!" yelled Phoebe,
and went for the third with her hands in claws and her teeth bared, but he
was already running, and so were the other two a second later. Delighted with
their success, they high-fived each other, while the guys and various
onlookers applauded. "That
was great, Rach," said Ross, "but foolhardy. You've got to be more
careful; you must practise unagi." "Unagi,
hell! Do you know who I downed back there in Pavis?" said Rachel.
"Only the two toughest broads in the whole damn town, so Griselda told
me. I am the greatest!" She did a little dance of triumph, twirling her
purse. "Yes,
sweetie," said Monica. "That's what Hilda told me too. But you took
them by surprise, and those punks too. You can't always rely on that." "Okay,"
said Rachel, calming down a little. "But I'm gonna take martial arts lessons.
I am so ready for it now." "Yay!"
cried Phoebe. "I'll join you." "Me
too!" said Monica enthusiastically. "And
you'll all take showers together afterwards, right?" said Joey. "Joey!"
they all cried, and Rachel held up a fist. "You want some of this?"
Joey pretended to cower away, and they all went over to Central Perk, talking
happily ----- In
Loud Lilina's, those left behind looked at each other glumly. "Damn,"
said Griselda. "I was really coming to like that Raychul doll." She
drained her mug and banged it down with what seemed like unnecessary force. Hilda
said, "And I liked Monica." "And
I liked Joey," sighed Hanufa, and Elsa, Lilina, and all the other women
in the room sighed too. "They
were all good kids," said Shamus. "A bit green, mind." "Green!"
cried Griselda. "They were positively viridian! I doubt if any except
Feebee had held a weapon before in their lives. But they were game, and that
Raychul surely made her play, didn't she?" They
all nodded or said, "Sure," but with less conviction than they
might have done. "She
took you by surprise," said Shamus. "She'd never have downed you
otherwise." "She
was bigger than you," said Hanufa. "That gave her an
advantage." "Anyway,
you're much prettier than she
is," said Olaf. Griselda chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don't need to worry; I am not too bothered about losing to one lucky kick. And wasn't it great to see Red Hot fold up? Let's have another round on that." Laughing, they downed their beers and lined up at the bar |
© 2002 Oliver Dickinson
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