Fifi tried to remember what was important about rose bushes, especially giant old ones like this one. Her mother had cautioned her against frequenting rose bushes or getting involved with people who did. The sparking, sputtering trap kept distracting her. Maybe it had a disorienting spell put on it. Fifi pointed at the raggedy loop of lace fabric. "Mac! Look!"
"What about it?" Mac was confused.
"Thats a trap."
"How?" Mac asked. He got down on his hands and knees and looked through a gap in the foliage. Fifi shifted position to sit on his back.
"See how I see." Fifi put her hands to Mac's temples and concentrated on expanding his vision.
"Thats what you see? That looks dangerous." Mac sounded surprised.
"We have to take it off. There is somebody trapped inside."
"What kind of somebody?"
"Can't remember. Is right on the edge of my brain but can't get it," said Fifi. She tried to negotiate a way to get through the thorns without getting pricked. It didn't work well. She picked her way in at about the same rate as Mac even though he was big and clumsy.
"Will help you. Let us in." said Fifi.
It seemed Mac had an easier time than her after that. He was able to crawl into a shaded area covered in moss. There ahead of him was a the large clay pot. It was cracked in places from the constant force of the roots growing from inside. The middle seemed to be held together by the lace ribbon. When he touched the trap all the threads in the lace glowed white for an instant, then the bow crumbled away in his hands. The rest of the lace fell to the ground.
"Now what happens?" asked Mac.
"We get out before she does!" said Fifi, suddenly realizing the situation she put Mac in. She got out easily. Too easily. As soon as she was clear the thorny branches of the rosebush shifted slightly, closing her out and holding Mac in.
---
Mac was caught. The thorns of several branches pricked his bare back slightly. He couldn't scoot backward without impaling himself on a few dozen thorns. He tried rolling over to one side so he could see enough to figure out an escape. Instead he came face to face with an ancient woman lying on the moss beside him.
"Hello, sugar" said the woman in an Alabama accent. She was close enough for Mac to smell her breath, which smelled of roses. The old woman's bright blue eyes invited him to accept more of her hospitality than just a soft bed of moss. They were set in a face that was lined and wrinkled with a few lifetimes worth of joy and pain.
She put an arm around Mac's shoulder, and also a leg around his waist. Her small, sagging breasts pressed against his chest. Mac glanced down to see she was mostly naked. The woman wore a translucent shawl on her shoulders that shimmered like spider silk, if wore was the right word. It served more to highlight her naked body than conceal anything.
"Mac! Come out!" Fifi shouted from somewhere outside the rose canopy.
"Seems like you're in demand today. I hope she don't mind me cutting in." said the old woman.
"You leave him alone! Mine! You no take!" shouted Fifi.
"Have we met?" Asked Mac, surprised at his ability to cope with the sudden appearance of a naked geriatric.
"Call me Rose. And make sure to say it like you mean it. I'll be sure to squeeze you just right when I call you Mac."
"I really need to go. My..." What to call Fifi? Friend was not the word for somebody who had rubbed her crotch on him. Girlfriend was a bit much. Lover was not exactly true either.
"Don't go. Your little virgin can come in too once she learns her manners." Rose traced her finger along Mac's shoulder, drawing a line in the goo Fifi left behind. "But I think we will get along great since we like the same kind of man."
"What did you have in mind?" Mac was a bit apprehensive about a woman this old being this forward.
"I'm going to heal that broken heart of yours. And you are going to end my loneliness."
"What broken heart?"
"The one you have been walking around with for so long that you think it is normal."
Mac tried to slide away from the woman, but a thorny branch met his back. "Whats my heart to you?"
"Let's just say my bed has been too cold for too long." said the woman.
---
Fifi finally found a gap in the rose branches big enough to negotiate. She barged in and forced her body in between Mac and the rose nymph. He still had his pants on, which was a sign he was resisting her influence. But he was only a human male and especially vulnerable to a nymph.
As her eyes adjusted to the shade of the rose bush she saw why he was still clothed. The nymph was old and weak. Most nymphs could live for hundreds of years and still look like nubile young women, but this one was elderly. Her body was wrinkled and bony. Her dull gray hair was thin, showing the outline of her scalp. It was tucked behind her pointy ears without any flowers. Fifi almost felt bad for blocking her attempt to get into Mac's pants. Almost.
"Not yours!" she said forcefully to the nymph, dislodging her hand from Mac's shoulder
"He isn't yours either," said the nymph, pushing herself up onto her elbow.
"I am my own man," said Mac. He scooted away from the two.
"More than he is yours, and I already marked him," said Fifi, ignoring Mac.
"That doesn't work. You gremlins and goblins letting the world know you found a good man just makes him more interesting. Interesting enough to share. How does this have to be a fight?" Said the nymph.
"Because you want to take him away," said Fifi.
"I don't," said the nymph.
"you are trying to now."
"No, I just wanted to... borrow him for a bit. You should know that we don't keep men forever."
