The Suit

The family had gotten together on a spring evening. The sun was setting just behind the hills that were in front of the family villa.

It was a beautiful evening. The family was usually in a quiet mood but tonight they were bursting with an energy of open anxiety with a serious joviality that they usually had, but with a bouncing jittery wave that was hitting each family member in varying degrees.

“What has Chastain said he wanted to discuss?” Maryann, the second cousin twice removed, whispered to the boy’s mother, Lucille, who shrugged.

“Mainly, he was very adamant…” Gregiore started in a secret voice, Chastain’s uncle Max winking at the tone, and everyone drew to him closely, “That we all stay put in the drawing room until he comes back.”

“He’s not the boss of me,” Bertha spouted. They all chuckled at her audacious response. She was Chastain’s little sister that acted big. “I secretly wish I could be treated like a baby!”

Everyone looked at Bertha.

“Huh? What did you say? Baby! You?” Her mother Lucille was shocked, her pointed ears as pointed as her cat’s eye makeup, wiggling in disbelief.

Bertha was redder than the reddest tomato in Farmer Crocket’s garden.

Uncle Joe, Lucille’s brother laugh raucously, going over to his niece to hug her. He hugged her so hard he picked her up.

“Hey! Let me go!” Bertha yelled, but was smiling.

“I thought you wanted to be a baby!” Uncle Joe teased putting her down.

Bertha laughed, “Wings!” She laughed harder as he swung her around, “my wings are getting mussed up!”

Uncle Joe put her down on the sofa. “Ok, ok,” he said with a chuckle. “Scamp!”

Lucille gave her family a look that made everyone suddenly go silent and pay attention to her.

“The only reason I believe my son Chastain is keeping us here in the drawing room I believe, is because he is ready to take on the mantle of our Prince. He has just turned sixteen,” she smiled with glee. “Our palatine and close family friend, Francis,” Lucille pointed to a tall man with free-flowing hair, who was sitting on a bench with a proper posture. “Has let on that Chastain has been going on for a while about his future within our Realm for the Crystal Eye Order of Fairies.”

Gregoire nodded. “I believe he is ready. My son has been studying our ancient history and art of alchemy.”

Francis sat up. “Chastain is one of my closest friends. He is ready.”

Maryann suddenly yawned. “I really thought it would be way more interesting if he had us all travel from so far away…”

Uncle Max nodded, his wings fluttering along with an enormous sigh, his arms stretching. “I’m getting some air…”

But he stayed in his spot, unmoving. Everyone else looked around as if there was an unseen force locking them in the room. It was suffocating. They all took in sharp breaths.

“Well? Are you going out, Maxy?” Lucille asked, using her familiar nickname for her brother-in-law.

“Umm…” uncle Max shrugged, looking a little perturbed. “I can’t, Luci.”

Lucille scoffed. “Of course you ca…” she started going toward the door but was stuck. “What the… plum-heck is going on?”

Bertha laughed with a snort. “You aren’t supposed to curse, momma!”

Lucille laughed nervously. “Of course, darling. But I have a secret love of curse words in private with your father…Pooh!” She spat out, her eyes wide.

Uncle Max laughed but this time it was more obnoxious. Lucille gave him a roll of her eyes.

“Cut it out!” Maryann said. “Can’t you see this is weird. We are all just shouting out our secrets!”

“Well, what’s your secret, cousin!?” Bertha asked, standing on top of a table top.

“No audience-making stunts, Bertha!” Gregoire scolded his daughter. “I like to climb up on the top of trees and howl at the moon at midnight!”

Lucille giggled at her husband, “Wolf is not in your bones, is it, Gregoire dear?”

“Not possible, my pearl,” Gregoire answered to his wife, holding on to her pale hand.

“I steal pearls out of clamshells and sell it to the black market for Fae clothes!” Maryann suddenly yelled.

Uncle Joe gave her a flustered and weird look. “Fae clothes? Ohhhh, Maryann…”

“Disappointed?” Maryann flaunted her pink satin scarf. “I don’t have anything to regret.”

Lucille frowned. “We have a ban on clamshells and other such animals. We shouldn’t do such things and trade with our enemies.” (“This is why you aren’t allowed in high court!” Bertha yelled over her mother, making Francis nod in agreement.)

Maryann rolled her eyes. “I like nice things. Sue me!”

“This is getting absurd! It’s almost becoming dusk! Where is that boy?” Gregoire yelled, becoming stressed. Everyone started fluttering and airing out their wings and kicking at the door.

“Why can’t this darn thing let us out?” Uncle Joe cursed under his breath.

Suddenly, uncle Max was crying. Everyone stopped the commotion to go over to him.

“What’s wrong?” Maryann asked him as everyone huddled in concern.

Uncle Max sighed. “I laugh harder than everyone because all I want to do is cry.”

They all gave him a hug and felt a collective smile hit their countenance.

“It just feels good to let that out…” Uncle Max confessed. “Like how humans say, eh?” He chuckled, a shudder in his voice.

“Ugh, humans…” Francis scoffed.

Suddenly, everyone looked at him like he was going to pop, like a boil. Francis had been quiet most of the time they were together, looking like he needed to speak.

“I like to dress up like..”

Francis’ confession was stifled by the door swinging open. There was Chastain, in a full-suit.

“I want to be a businessman!”

Collective shock hit them all.

“Everyone’s secrets out! I enchanted the room so everyone had to say their secret before leaving. So is mine! I want to make business deals, not spells!”

“Humans!” Francis finished. Everyone laughed.