Chapter Eleven
Nothing could have prepared the boys for Tripper's reaction. To put it simply, she exploded! Her eyes flashed with deadly fire and venom as she paced distractedly in the middle of the room. Her arms flailed about her in gestures that acted out the vehement Celtic words that spilled from her mouth. What ever she was biting out was enough to make Snipes pale and Shooter blush. What ever it was, it wasn't nice.
The group sat still, letting Tripper finish her rampage that lasted for nearly fifteen minutes. Then her anger dissolved. She slipped to the floor sobbing. Instantly, the girls surrounded their friend soothing and comforting away her tears.
Shooter crooned softly to her friend in a mixture of Celtic and English, "There now, child, donna cry anymoore. Tis gonna be okay. Shh, donna cry me bonny lass. He ain't gonna get at ye. I swears it on me muddah's grave." Shooter and the other girls' voices calmed Tripper's sobs till they were only silent shudders.
Jack took it as the perfect time to spell out their plan.
"Trippah, we's gots an idea. Well, it was Snitch's idea. You is gonna come live wit us boys till dis problem goes away. We's gonna toin ya inta a boy, an' youse uncle will nevah know da difference. He'll nevah find ya because he's lookin' for a goil, not a boy."
Tripper, Shooter, and the other girls glanced at each other incredulously.
"How in da woild do youse tink you can pass Trippah off as a boy?"
Jack shrunk back from the scrutinizing stares of the girls before nervously clearing his throat and continuing.
"Well, we's gots her some clothes dat we's out growed or is extry for her ta wear," He lowered his voice as he said the next part, "an' we figured dat she'd need ta –um—cut her hair."
This bit made Tripper's hand go to the hair hanging down her back. Her hand unconsciously stroked the golden-red curls with a look of pure horror on her face at the very idea of cutting it off.
Skittery watched the thoughts going through Tripper's head dance plainly across her face. She thought over the plan much like he had. Hatred and fear flashed momentarily through her eyes when she thought about her uncle. Then sadness washed her features when thoughts of losing her think, long locks crossed her mind. Finally, a look of resolve set her face like stone.
"All right, I'll do it." She turned to a surprised Skittery, "Give me the clothes ye brought. Lassies, follow me upstairs 'cause I'm gonna need ye. Lads, ye stay down here and help yeselves ta whatever's in the kitchen. We'll be down soon."