Traveling with Elise was a trip.  People stared. And then they pointed. And then they chuckled. The more you watched, the more you saw that was just a little bit off center. Or a lot.

For instance, who travels with potted plants and decorates their train seat with twinkle lights? Feeds their cat cake with a bowl of cream, of course?

Now many people wear their slippers on the train, I know I do. But their jammies and comfy sweater four sizes too big? 

Elise was born eccentric. It wasn’t something she became, and it wasn’t something she grew out of. It was her core personality. Part of it was based on her desire to be comfortable and part of it was based on her personal ideology that home was wherever she was.

She hadn’t had a boyfriend since high school.  She was gorgeous in an elfin, magical way and men often did a double take when they walked by her. But things like a potted plant in the seat opposite her and the cat in a baby carrier on her chest usually caused them to remain silent.

Elise was barreling through Andalusia the day Ebert took notice of her.

She didn’t know it then, but Ebert was going to give her a run for her money.  His friends described him as quirky.  His sister just thought him downright weird.  Ebert?  Who knew what Ebert thought.  All one really knew is that he apparently thought in Shakespearean English.

Ebert had been born out of sync with the centuries. He was a traveling minstrel in the New Millennium A.D. He went nowhere without his lute.  Most folks didn’t even know they still made lutes.

Ebert spotted Elise sipping her tea in the dining car. He took note of the plants, the twinkle lights, her shabby sweater, and pink slippers. On the spot, he wrote his fifth love song of the week. But the lyrics to this one were different than what he usually sang. In this one, he sang not of broken hearts and unrequited love.  He didn’t sing forlorn melodies of love lost or never found. This song was a song of hope and new love.

Ebert was besotted and even though a traveling minstrel in the New Millennium A.D.,. he had never been besotted.  Beguiled, yes. Bewildered, often. And belittled. But he sensed a kindred spirit in Elise.

“Fair maiden!  Good morn! May I sip tea with you while you tell me where thou wast born?”

Ebert only talked in rhyme.  He was not particularly good at it, despite the practice, so it took him a while to respond to questions and replies which most people found irritating after an initial ”He’s a poet and don’t know it” quip.

Elise was charmed.

“Kind sir! Please tarry the morn.  I’m happy to tell you where I was born.”

And the romance began.  Elise answering each of his rhymes just as slowly as he composed. Periodically, Ebert would interrupt his rhyme with a lute interlude.  Elise fair swooned. She had not known until now that lute music was encoded in her DNA.  To say she was charmed was an understatement unless you were literally invoking an Indian flute player with a snake in a basket.

Elise was hypnotized by his style; he was enamored of hers..

“Fair maiden, might I know your name? If you tell me yours, I’ll do the same.”  And upon uttering that, he gave her his most courtly bow.

Elise stood and returned his flourish with a graceful and deep curtsy.

“Fine Prince, my name is Elise. Please sit here and be at peace.”

Elise scooted over so that Ebert could sit next to her.  She also signaled the attendant for another cup.

By this time the whole dining car was gaping in astonishment. 

“My fair lady, my name is Ebert. Is that St. John’s wort?”

“Tis indeed! My courtier. Can I interest you in a ripe pear?”

Ebert sat and soon the two were babbling away in such earnest they forgot to compose couplets, Elise was flushed, Ebert’s fingers trembled a bit when he interrupted their conversation with the occasional lute serenade.

The train pulled into Córdoba.  Elise sighed.

“This is my stop.  I’m here to see the mosque and then will travel on to Barcelona.” 

Ebert was at a loss for words and thus quoted Shakespeare. 

“Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

Elise, suddenly demure, cast her eyes down and mumbled. “Could you stay too?  We don’t have to part.  Do we?”  With that, she looked up and into his eyes.

He sunk into their green depths and she in his blue and from that moment on they were inseparable and lived happily ever after procreating perfectly normal children who were a little embarrassed by their parents but raised in their astounding love.