If You Shall Meet The Billy-Blind

Peter S. Beagle's book Tamsin sparked me this week with his character, The Billy-Blind. I love how movies and books can stir up my creativity. A feeling or an essence can grow into a story. Sometimes it's a character or a scene. Each generation has something new to offer. Unfortunately, the main contribution of the 2000s is soul-crushing spam that floods into every aspect of living. But, we can use this technology to return to the past arts and creators. It's a blessing to have the resources we have now. There are a hundred years of movies at our fingertips and hundreds of years of books and music.

The Billy-Blind came to me one hot summer day as I took refuge under a thick, black spruce tree. My blood boiled in the humidity so I was dipping my toes in lake water. It had the consistency of warm melted butter so wasn’t an iota of help. The air was heavy and wet as if a glass bowl sat on top of the lake, trapping the condensation.

A shift in air—a shiver up my spine alerted me of the small man.

“Holy!” I cried out as I jumped, nearly tipping over into the water.

“Who me? I am no such thing,” he replied.

I righted myself with my eyes glued to the little man. “Excuse me for asking, but who are you and what do you want?”

“What do I want?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I came for some water. I did not realize it would insult you so.”

“Insult? Huh?”

“Ffft. It is far too hot for insults and jabs,” the little man spouted. He squatted down to scoop lake water and guzzled it with loud slurps. “You can sit. I am not going to hurt you,” he said. Water droplets flew from his mustache with each word.

I remained hovering with one foot on the peak of the rock and the other on a slimy, wobbly one behind me. “Are you a leprechaun?”

“I am not sure. If I was, how would I know?”

“You’d have a pot of gold.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I am not that then.”

“No gold?”

“Nope.”

“Too bad.”

“I do not have much need for gold.”

“No? I wouldn’t mind some.”

“If was a lepra-whatever you said...”

“Leprechaun.”

“Yes. If I was a leprechaun why would I give you my gold?”

“You’d have to.”

“That sounds like a rotten deal. Why would I have to give you my gold.”

“That's just how it works. You’d have no choice. I’d catch you and you’d have to lead me to it.”

He grabbed his stomach and his shoulders bopped up and down as he released a low guttural rumble of a laugh. “You catch me?” he asked between chuckles. “You could not catch the plague.”

“I certainly could catch..." I replied but stopped short. "The plague?"

He straightened and swiveled around. “Oh, yes, wrong time.”

“There was never a plague here.”

“No? Well, I am not from around here.”

“I could've guessed that.”

“You could? You do not meet many Billy-Blinds around here?”

“Billy-Blinds? Is that what you are?”

He nodded, scooping another handful of water into his mouth.

“You are thirsty. You should drink,” he stated as he plunked down on the flat rock, and crossed his stubby legs.

“I am?” I asked, feeling scattered.

“Sit down. I will not hurt you. Even if I wanted to, I could not do much but kick you in the shin.”

I thought about that. He didn’t seem scary at all and had come upon me by accident. I scrambled onto the sitting rock and crossed my legs.

He nodded to the lake. “You look dehydrated. Drink some water.”

I scooped a mouthful of the warm water into my mouth and it trickled down the front of my swimsuit.

“Feel better?” he asked.

I nodded.

“When you return to your mom, tell her to dump the milk. It has soured. I would suggest baking a chocolate cake to use it up but it is far too hot. ”

I smiled. “Are you a...”

“And you should stop wearing purple. It does not work with your skin,” he interrupted.

I glanced down at my red bathing suit.

“And do not sit next to Britney in school. She is a troublemaker.”

“Huh?”

He stood and stretched, groaning as his back cracked. “Well, must be off,” he stated as he hopped off the rock onto the mossy shoreline. “See you, Liz.”

He disappeared leaving me completely confused.

I swam back to the dock and checked the milk. It was lumpy. I asked my parents what a Billy-Blind was and they had no clue so I googled it once I got home. The Billy-Blind gives advice, sometimes poor but more often it’s sound. So, I stopped wearing purple because he was right; I have too much pink in my skin for it. When school started back up in the fall, I sat on the opposite side of the room from Britney. I am so glad I did—she’s been poking fun at poor Stewart all year.

I’m putting on my Billy-Blind hat to give you some sage advice that you’d be smart to take. If you come across a two-foot-tall man who claims to be The Billy-Blind, don’t scare him off or ask too many questions. Instead, sit, hold back your urge to question the little man, and take note of all he says. Many share their thoughts and opinions of what you should and shouldn’t do. But, none know better than The Billy-Blind.