When I got home from football practice that day after I let the fairy out of her cage, Westley in tow, we were dismayed to discover the fairy gone from my room. There was no sign of her anywhere. We knew something was wrong when we saw my ‘keep out’ sign missing from the door. A frantic search of the room confirmed our worst fears. The fairy was loose in the house, or worse, maybe she had gotten outside and was gone. I remember suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. My mind was spinning. What if I never saw her again? How could I have been so careless? I shouldn’t have left her loose in the room when I went to practice. I should of known she might be discovered or get out.
I immediately suspected my brother Brian, acting out of spite, or else it had to be Mom, though not as likely. Someone had taken my sign down. Someone had ignored the warning on my sign and opened the door and probably gone in my room. Most likely Brian. I should have put a lock on the door, but I knew that would upset Mom. I was hoping the fairy heard them coming and hid somewhere in the room and wasn’t seen.
Ever so carefully, Westley and I slowly opened the bedroom door. Westley went up on tip toes and placed his hands at the top of the opening doorway while I peeked inside. The room was a disaster. All my clothes and all my stuff was littered all across the floor and all over the bed. Dresser drawers were open, the closet almost emptied, and everything thrown off the bookshelves. It looked like a hurricane had struck, but no immediate sign of the fairy. We hastily slipped inside and secured the door behind us.
“Where is she?” Westley exclaimed and kicked a sweatshirt across the floor. Her cage was still lying askew next to the desk where it had fallen when the fairy pushed it off earlier that day.
“Probably hiding somewhere,” I moved further into the room. “Be careful you don’t step on her. And don’t kick my stuff around.”
We couldn’t find the little fairy anywhere. She wasn’t under the bed or in the closet or among the rubble on the floor. We even checked inside desk and dresser drawers and on top of bookshelves. She was not there. The window was firmly shut, so she couldn’t have gotten out through the window. She must have exited through the door when Brian opened it. She was not in the room.
“Why would the fairy trash your stuff?” Westley marveled. “She must be furious with you.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Seems like she was searching for something.”
“Look at this,” Westley called my attention to the desk top where her cage had been positioned. It was the only orderly place left in the room.
The fairy has set up residence there on my desk. She had retrieved all the doll furniture and clothes from the fallen cage and arranged her things very fastidiously, making it into a little home of sorts. The doll clothes were all folded and in a neat pile. The furniture arranged just right. She had stolen some more handkerchiefs out of my dresser and made a bed of sorts. She had even gotten the hamster water bottle up there, which must have been a real struggle considering her size. She had also collected odd items from around the room - a needle, a button, a pen, a pair of dice, and a small pocketknife. And there was my photograph. She’d propped it up against the computer monitor and my smiling face was looking out over her new home. I was pleased she’d retrieved my picture and put it up, rather than puncturing holes in my eyes or ripping the photograph to shreds with her little knife.
“Where could she be?” Westley exclaimed again. He picked up a shoe from the closet and held it upside down and shook it.
“Keep looking,” I said. “She’s got to be in the room somewhere.” We went over every square inch of the room again, being very meticulous this time, and still could not find her.
“There’s no way she could have gotten out by herself,” Westley muttered. “Someone had to of let her out of the room. You don’t think Madison came and freed her, do you?” He started to turn red. “I bet she did.”
“Nah,” I said. “I just can’t see Madison breaking into the house. She wouldn’t do that. Besides, she gave us 24 hours, and I expect she will honor that.”
I slipped out of the bedroom, Westley behind me, ensuring the door was shut behind us just in case we had somehow missed her, and went looking for my brother. I found him in his own room, setting in front of his bedroom computer, ear phones on, eyes closed, maybe asleep. We each have older hand-me-down computers in our rooms, but no connectivity. Good for some types of homework and also for listening to stored music and for non-interactive games.
“Brian, have you been in my room?” I spoke sharply, startling him.
He sat up and spoke to me grumpily, “Get out of my room.”
I stepped towards him. “Have you been in my room? I need to know, there’s something missing.”
“I was in your room, but I didn’t take anything,” he murmured.
“What were you doing in my room, I put a sign on the door?”
“I heard noises in there. Something big, like a raccoon or a opossum.”
“Did you see anything?”
“Nah, but it made quite a racket, Mom’s thinks we have rats and is planning to get some traps.”
“You told Mom. Brian, you are so stupid.”
“She heard the noises too. She’s the one that took your sign down and told me to go investigate.”
“But you didn’t see anything?”
“Nothing but a mess. I’m remembering next time you ask me to pick up around the house, or do dishes.”
“I cook, you do dishes. And stay out of my room.”
We were interrupted then by Mom calling us from downstairs. “Boys, come down here, please,” she said.
I gave Brian a look to show him I meant business and then turned to Westley. “Wait in my room, okay.”
“Sure,” Westley responded. He gave me a worried look and headed for my room. I went downstairs to see what Mom wanted, all the while glancing about for some sign of the missing fairy. She had to be around the house somewhere, but where would she go?
Mom was standing in the living room looking distraught. I hoped she wasn’t worried about rats on my account. She was pacing about in front of the couch. “Brian, hurry it up,” she shouted upstairs. Brian jointed us shortly and slouched onto the couch with a heavy sigh like he was being greatly imposed upon. I gave Mom a reassuring smile. She suffers from anxiety attacks and it’s usually best to play along with whatever’s worrying her at the time and not add any further to her concerns. All you can do is wait for her to calm down and try to ease her fears.
At that moment, of all times, I got a text. It was from Madison , “Just 9 more hours. Let the fairy go!!!!!!!”
I snapped the phone shut, then had a second though and texted back. “Fine.” I didn’t want Madison getting overly anxious and doing anything tonight. If Madison could just hold off on her threats to tell our parents about the fairy until tomorrow morning, I would deal with Madison then.
Brian and I watched Mom pace. She kept brushing the hair out of her eyes but it kept falling back down. She would tell us what was bothering her when she was ready. At last she turned and looked at us. She clasped her hands in front of her mouth. “Boys, I have bad news.” She sat on the sofa chair facing us. It reminded me of the time she told us about father, and I felt clammy, and noticed sweat forming on my forehead. She seemed to pause forever, and then said, “We have to move.”
“What did you say?” I responded, not believing my hears. We’ve lived in the same house every since I can remember, since I was a toddler.
Mom shook her head sadly. “We have no choice, we have to move.”
Just then I saw the fairy, beyond Mom in the kitchen, and my mouth fell open. I watched the fairy fly across the kitchen, over the kitchenette table, and out of my sight towards the laundry room. She had a small plastic spice container in its hands.
“I’m not going,” Brian declared, bringing my attention back to my family. I was glad both he and Mom were facing away from the kitchen and had not seen the fairy.
Mom looked at him with worry and trembled. “I know it’s going to be hard, but we have no choice. We have no choice.”
“But why, Mom?” I asked, then watched in horror as the fairy flew back across the kitchen to the cabinets and retrieved a second spice container. What was she doing getting into mom’s spice rack and where was she taking them?
“I don’t want to move,” Mom groaned and bent over, her face growing taunt. She hardly got out of the house these days and I could not picture her leaving the security of our home, let alone moving. She continued, “I know you boys have been through enough already.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I said. “We’ll get through this. Now tell me what’s the matter?”
“We can’t make the mortgage payments. We’re being foreclosed on. The bank is repossessing the house and we’re being evicted. I waited as long as I could to tell you.”
“But I thought we had money,” I exclaimed.
“Not enough, I’ve been dipping into saving every month trying to pay the bills. We ran out at the first of the year and are behind on everything. Most of your father’s insurance money went to pay off loans and debts. We don’t have any monthly income hardly. Not enough to cover house payments, let alone buy food and medicine.”
“No, there must be something you can do?” Brian exclaimed suddenly. He was looking angry, but that was not unusual.
Mom signed. “Well, Major Unger from down the street,” she paused, seeing my eyes narrow, then sped her speech, “He might loan us enough to make it through the school year.”
“Not Unger,” I said.
“Michael,” she said, her voice rising with concern. “We might not have any choice.
“I’m not moving," Brian declared, like he could just deny it was going to happen.
I stared at Mom is disbelief. “Major Unger’s going to give us money? Enough to cover the mortgage?”
“Not exactly,” Mom’s voice waivered. “It would involve a second mortgage on the home, to him, and would only be good until the end of the summer. I don’t know what would be different in our financial situation by then, but at least you boys could finish out the school year before we move.”
“We’re not going to take money from Unger,” I said.
“Michael, we might have too,” Mom looked away, not meeting my eyes.
“And what unspoken strings are attached to this generous offer?” I said sarcastically.
Mom sighed, and her flickering eyes told me more than her words, “No strings you need worry about.”
I swore to myself, right then and there, that it would not happen.
“I’m going back to bed,” Mom said and stood up. She looked a little unsteady. She pushed the hair back out of her face. “I took some medicine and it’s making me sleepy.”
“Sure Mom, and don’t worry, something will work out,” I said, but I felt really sick to my stomach, almost to the point of throwing up.
Brian and I watched her retreat upstairs to her bed. “Why does this stuff have to happen to us?” Brian exclaimed. He was red in the face.
I saw the fairy fly by with a third container of spice. “Hey, don’t worry,” I said to Brian. “I’ll think of a way to get us some money.”
He trudged off out the front door, going who knows where. I waited until the front door was shut, then raced upstairs to get Westley. He was in my room sprawled on the bed listing to my iPod. “Westley, get up, the fairy’s in the kitchen.
He shot bolt upright. “No way, I thought she was gone forever.”
We hurried downstairs and caught the fairy carrying spice containers into the laundry room and stashing them up onto a shelf near the ceiling, where she was depositing her collection of stolen goods in an open space between gallon containers of bleach and liquid detergent.
The fairy saw us coming and darted behind the bleach.
“Bonnie,” I scolded.
The fairy came out presently and walked hesitantly to the edge of the shelf. When I didn’t scold her any further, I was too happy to have found her and to amazed by the whole scene, she pointed to one of the small cylindrical spice containers and said, “Open please.” Then she clasped her hands together just below her chin, cocked her head to one side, and turned those brown pleading eyes upon me.
“No way,” Westley exclaimed. “You didn’t tell me she could talk!”
I grinned at Westley and nodded, but didn’t take my eyes off the fairy. She pointed to the spice container labeled Saffron. She was so cute.
“Upstairs,” I spoke slowly, and pointed to the stairwell.
The fairy rocked forward on the balls of her feet and uncurled her wings.
Westley yelped in amazement. I grabbed the saffron and started for the stairs, causing the fairy to squeal excitedly, run a few steps, and leap into the air. She took flight, caught up with me, and hovered a few feet above my head, keeping pace with me as I traversed the living room. “Get the rest of them,” I said to Westley, and led the fairy upstairs and back to my bedroom. Westley fumbled to follow and scooped up the remaining spices and hurried after us. Once we all got safely back into the bedroom, I pulled the door shut tight. Safe once more.
We deposited the spices onto the desk where the fairy had made herself a home. She looked pleased. “Open,” she said impatiently.
So I screwed the top off the saffron spice and set the plastic container onto the desk to see what the fairy would do. The spice had a gold yellow hue and smelled a little like hay. The fairy reached her small arm down into the half full container and dipped her finger in the spice, then raised it to her lips. She smiled.
I begin lining up the other spices and opening all the containers to see what the fairy would think of them. It was quite an assortment. Besides the saffron, there was ginger, nutmeg, vanilla, cardamom, turmeric and also a container of pepper and one of cloves, eight in all. The fairy seemed absolutely delighted with her acquisitions and watched with great anticipation as I opened all the containers for her.
I was just glad to have the little fairy safely back in my room. As she was tasting her new spices, I took a moment to reflect upon how neat this was. She was tame. I didn’t need to keep her in a cage any longer. And she could even talk some, and understand me. I jumped to my feet and grabbed up the hamster cage and stowed it in the closet to make sure she knew I wasn’t ever going to put her in there again. She watched me curiously and then went back to her spices.
This was working out better than I had ever hoped. I whipped out my phone and fired off a text to Madison , “I let the fairy out of her cage.”
“So she’s gone?” Madison texted back immediately.
“She flew away,” I replied. It was true. The fairy had flow away. Madison didn’t need to know all the details.
“I don’t believe you,” Madison texted back.
Madison was so stupid. I snatched the hamster cage back out of the closet and took a picture of the empty cage with my phone and sent it off to Madison . “Satisfied,” I texted.
“Ok,” she responded. “You better not be lying.”
“BYE MADISON,” I texted in all caps, and put the phone back in my pocket.
For the next few hours Westley and I played with the fairy and we had the best time. We gave her free run of the room and she seemed happy with her new found freedom. She tasted each of her spices, seemed content to know they were hers, flew around the room to explore a little more, and then gave her attention to us.
Westley and I taught her a bunch of new words. We would point to something in the room and say the name, and then let the fairy try and repeat it, and we only needed to correct her a fourth of the time. After we had gone through about everything in the room, we tested her memory by pointing at things and seeing if she could remember. She did on over half the items. After a second and then third time through she had them down real good, but then seemed to grow tired of the exercise. It was getting late anyway. Westley took the ear plugs out of his ear and gave one to her. Then he treated her to some Taylor Swift. She was totally amazed to discover music coming from tiny little ear plugs.
I motioned Westley to the door. “Time to go. Let’s talk.”
“Sure,” he said, and we stepped out of the room and closed the door behind us.
“Madison ’s off our backs for now,” I said, as I walked down the stairs ahead of Westley.
“One can only hope,” he remarked.
“We exited the front door, but before he got on his bike, I clasped him on the shoulder. “What am I going to do with the fairy, Westley?”
He looked at me puzzled. “Why worry? This is unbelievable. This is great. Why worry?”
“Sure,” I agreed, but I have misgivings.
When I got back to the room, I found the fairy had put on some doll clothes in my absence and was now wearing a Barbie summertime outfit – plaid skirt and white button down blouse. I smiled at her and she beamed.
“You look very pretty, Bonnie,” I said, as I kicked off my shoes and threw myself on the bed. I lay on my back and propped my head up with my hands. The excitement and stress of the day had exhausted me. “Sleep now,” I said to the fairy.
I expected the fairy to return to her bedding on the desk, but instead she flew to the window and settled on the window sill. “Open?” she asked, cocking her eyebrows.
I shook my head. “No Bonnie.”
“Bonnie hot,” she said.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Time to sleep.”
The fairy sighed and launched into the air again, but instead of heading to her bedding, she flew across to the dresser and retrieved another handkerchief. Then she flew back across the room, hovered above me for a minute, and then alighted softly on my chest where, much to my continuing amazement, she settled down and curled up into a ball. She pulled the handkerchief over her like a blanket. Then she patted me affectionately and said, “Sleep, Mee-el,” and instantly she was.
I was too keyed up for sleep myself. After watching the fairy sleep for a while, I gently moved her off me and onto a pillow which I placed at the foot of the bed. Then I went downstairs to the family PC so I could check my blog.
I still don’t have any idea what I’m going to do with this fairy? I need suggestions.
October 16, 2012
Back to Post 6 with Comments
Its really tame now so it won't surely do you any harm. Though, it will have to be freed. Anyways, it also might visit you as you are her first human friend.
ReplyDeleteDoesn't matter how tame it is. The fairy was a wild free creature and Michael has no right to keep her and try to tame her. Alice might be right and it might come visit him if he is lucky. Regardless, he should let it go.
ReplyDelete