7. Peculiar behavior by the fairy

        The fairy’s causing me a lot of trouble lately, and she’s become overly attached.  I can’t go in my room without her insisting on all my attention, and peculiar things have been happening.  Perhaps I shouldn’t have let her out of the cage.  It’s been very odd around here, and then she gave me quite a scare and I thought we’d been discovered.

        The first incident of peculiar behavior occurred in the early hours of the morning yesterday, before the sun had risen.  The fairy was up and about and in flight before my alarm even went off and I’d stumbled out of bed, which is usually what wakes her in the mornings, or else the brightness of the rising sun.  I opened my eyes yesterday morning to discover the fairy hovering over me.  She swooped down, raised a hand to her mouth, and blew a powdery substance into my face.  It had a sweet smell to it, like my Mom’s spices, and I couldn’t help inhaling some of the powder.

        The fairy retreated back across the room and glided to a halt on the bookshelf.  I was conscious of her watching me as I sat up and shook the sleep from my mind.  I don’t always wake up that quickly, and am usually groggy for a few minutes, especially when it’s early.

        I wiped the powder off my face and looked at the fairy.  “Why’d you do that Bonnie?” I asked.  My mind was racing.  Was she trying to poison me?  I didn’t feel any different.

        The fairy took a deep breath and then raised both her hands into the air.  “Mee-el, stand up!”

        It was obvious, even to my sleep deprived mind, she was thinking the powder she had blown into my face might give her some type of control over me.  I didn’t feel any different though, nor did I have any inclinations or urgings to obey, but I was curious to see where this might lead.  So I stood up.

        The fairy literally beamed with pleasure and bounced on the balls of her feet.  She pointed towards the window.  “Mee-el,” she commanded in her small squeaky voice.  “Open window!”

        I was now positive she was thinking she had me under a spell of some type.  I had total control of my actions though.  I went to the window and opened it all the way.  The sudden rush of night breeze felt refreshing and helped to further clear my mind from any lingering sleepiness.  There was no risk from having opened the window, that I could think of, for the screen was still firmly in place.   She could not escape.

        The fairy folded her arms across her chest, grinning with delight.  She pointed back at the bed.  “Mee-el, now go sleep!”

        So, I had passed the test.  I returned to bed and pretended to go back to sleep.  Let the fairy think she had her way.

        When the alarm clock woke me up about an hour later, I instantly looked about for the fairy, afraid she might have somehow gotten out through the window I had opened in response to her command.  Much to my relief, the fairy was back on the desk, her little home, curled up in her bedding.  I considered if I might have dreamed the incident, but the window was open and I know for sure it had been shut when I went to bed.  I dressed quickly, grabbed my backpack and gym bag, and slipped out the bedroom door to get some breakfast, trying not to make any noise and wake her.  I had a bowl of cereal and then stuffed a pop-tart under the bedroom door for the fairy before leaving for school. 

        The second peculiar event of the day happened when I opened up my backpack to take out my chemistry book for first period lab.  Instead of the expected text, I was surprised to find an illustrated book on classic sports cars.  The two books are about the same in shape and size.  I know for a fact the sports car book was on the bookshelf in the bedroom where I had placed it after last looking up some Mustang Shelby Cobra GT500 pictures.  Someone had replaced that book for the chemistry book in my backpack, which I know was there from class the day before.  The fairy must have switched the two, but why I had no idea.  What would a little fairy want with a high school text book, especially when she can’t read?

        The third strange occurrence was provoked by Madison.  After school and practice yesterday, I returned home and pulled into the driveway, anxious as usual to check on the fairy.  Unfortunately Madison was parked at the curb in her father’s Saturn waiting for me.  She hopped out of her car before I could shut down the engine to my Mustang and was approaching fast, obviously primed for a confrontation, so I gunned the engine to make a show of it, a 350 V-8 that makes a satisfying loud rumble when fed enough gas, and then I shut down the old Mustang.

        I exited the car and smiled at her, “Hey Madison, that’s a cute outfit.”  She had on a new pair of jeans and a button down, turquoise colored, denim blouse.  Here tennis shoes were turquoise also.  The unexpected compliment caught her off guard and she was flustered for a moment.

        She straightened her blouse and ran her hands through her hair.  “I want proof you let the fairy go,” she said.

        “I sent you a photo of the empty hamster cage,” I responded.

        “Not good enough.”

        “So what do you want then?” I asked.

        “Let’s go up to your room right now.  Show me the fairy’s not there in the hamster cage.”

        “Madison, you are so paranoid.”

        “If you really had let the fairy go, you wouldn’t mind proving it,” Madison said.  She looked so serious I smiled, which only made her frown at me.  “I think you still have the poor fairy in that hamster cage,” she continued.  “You just took her out long enough to take a picture.  Show me the empty cage.”

        Madison can be demanding.  I shrugged and tried to look innocent.  “How would that prove anything to you?”

        “Well.  You weren’t expecting me to be here, were you?” Madison said.  “You’ve had no chance to hide her.  If the fairy’s not in the cage, then I’ll go without dinner for three days.”

        “You don’t have to do that, just promise you’ll stop bothering me,” I said, but instantly regretted it, for she got a hurt look on her face.

        “It’s a deal,” she said.

        “I’ve got a better idea,” I offered in a moment of weakness.  “If the fairy’s not in the cage, then you go with me to the dance next week?”

        Madison’s mouth fell open.  She obviously wasn’t expecting that.  I don’t know why I asked her to the dance anyway, I don’t especially like her.

        “Come on,” I said, before she could answer.  “I’ll show you what you want.  You don’t have to go to the dance with me.”  I led her into the house and up the stairs.  Then I started to worry.  The fairy was no longer in the cage, but she was loose in the room, and I had not really let her go free.  I rattled the door handle to my room before opening it, hoping she would hide.

        At that moment, Mom came around the hall corner from the master bedroom.  “Michael,” she exclaimed.  “You’re not taking a girl into your bedroom are you?”

        “What, Mom, no, it’s not what you think,” I exclaimed, and saw Madison growing very red in the face.  “This is Madison from church.  You see her at church every Sunday.  I just want to show her something in my room.”  Mom didn’t look too convinced and Madison was growing even more embarrassed by the minute.  “Mom, you know Madison.  They’re new in the ward.  Her mom’s Daisy Renard, you know her.  We’re only going to be a minute.”

        Mom gave in.  “Then leave the door open,” she said.

        This was getting worse and worse, I thought.  What if the fairy tried to fly out?  What if Mom saw her?   “Okay Mom, just give us a minute, will you.  Can we have a little privacy?”  I swung the door open wide and walked in, I really had no other choice.  Fortunately the fairy was nowhere in sight, and I sighed with relief.  Madison stepped into the room behind me and looked around expectantly.  Mom moved up to the doorway and looked in too, I thought maybe she was going to come in also, why not, but after a sharp glance directed my way, she reluctantly withdrew back down the hall.  Where was the fairy?  I expected to see her dart for freedom through the open doorway at any moment, but no sign of her.

        Madison spotted the empty hamster cage in a corner of the room from where it had been placed after Westley and I had picked up, after it had been declaratively pushed off the desk by the fairy and then thrown into the closet by me.  Never to be used for that purpose again.  Madison could see the hamster cage was totally empty and she looked sufficiently abashed.

        I had to rub it in.  “Satisfied,” I mocked.

        “I guess,” Madison said.

        Then I spotted the fairy.  She was behind Madison on the upper bookshelf, on top of an open book, standing right on the pages and looking at the pictures, but casting amused glances in our direction.  It was my missing chemistry book.

        “What’s this?” Madison pointed to the top of the desk where all the doll furniture and little doll clothes were neatly arranged.  “Playing house, are you?”

        Now it was my turn to go red in the face.  “Are we done,” I exclaimed.

        Then I saw the fairy leave her book and sit down to watch us, dangling her feet over the edge of the bookshelf, now fully engrossed in Madison and my discussion.  At least she was making no moves to bolt for the open doorway, which was especially good, for it was wide open, and I was cognizant of Mom lingering in the hallways, making sure I wasn’t up to anything inappropriate with Madison.

        “Look Michael,” Madison said to me.  “I know we’ve had our differences, but I really think it was for the best to let the fairy go.  For all you know she have gotten sick and died.  I’m glad she’s gone.  Really.  Aren’t you?  She was certainly a lot of trouble.”

        I saw the hair on the top of the fairy’s head stiffen and her chin go up.  She pushed off into the air as she uncurled her wings and took flight.  She caught herself and rose steadily, until hovering in the air just above Madison’s head.  I was shaking my head at the fairy, but she ignored me and suddenly circled in front of Madison’s face and swooped at her.  Madison was startled and actually screamed, a short but surprising loud cry, causing the fairy to shriek and swerve towards me for safety.  I put a hand up and the fairy deposited herself into the palm of my hand.  She immediately folded her wings and sat down with a thump, before I could overbalance her.

        Madison was gaping at us in open mouthed astonishment.

        Then the fairy spoke.  “Bonnnnie not trouble!” she said definitively.

        That was good enough for me, and I could hear Mom’s footsteps approaching again.  She must have heard Madison’s yell and was coming to investigate.  I couldn’t let her see the fairy too, so I tossed the fairy towards the bed.  She fluttered her wings to break her fall and landed safely enough.  Then I took Madison by the shoulders, turned her around, and marched her out the bedroom door.  “You really better go,” I whispered.  “My Mom is watching.”

        Madison shook herself free.  “Don’t touch me.”

        I shut the door on Madison and let her find her own way out of the house.

        The fairy was already airborne and hovering in the air in the center of the room.  She actually laughed, a merry little musical laugh, and then returned to the bookshelf and landed on top of my chemistry book again.

        “Hey, I need that for school,” I said, pulling the book out from under the fairy.  She fell on her tosh and then kicked her feet at me.  “And you didn’t need to scare Madison like that,” I said.

        “Ma-son,” the fairy repeated.

        “Ma-di-son,” I corrected.

        “Mad-i-son,” the fairy got the name pretty good.  Then she said, “Girl.”

        “Yes, girl,” I said.

        “Bonnie like Mad-i-son,” the fairy said.

        “That’s nice, but leave my books alone, I need them for school.”

        “What school?” the fairy asked.  She was picking up the rudiments of speech at an astonishing rate.

        “That’s where I have to go all day, and it’s boring,” I responded.

        There was a knock on the door, and I knew it was Mom.  I looked at the fairy.  “Hide,” I told her.  Which she did, flying into the closet, so I cracked the door open to speak with my mother.

        “Michael, a new rule,” Mom spoke wearily.

        “Can we talk later?” I protested.  I just knew the fairy was going to swoop at my mother’s face at any moment, like she did to Madison.

        “No girlfriends in your room,” Mom said.  “Ever.”

        “Madison’s not a girlfriend.”

        “Michael, I don’t want you to have girls in your room.  Period.  Do you understand me?”

        “Sure, sure, I won’t.”

        “Now please, can you go start dinner, I do feel a little dizzy.  And then I need you to make sure Brian gets to church for his camping trip.”

        So I had to leave the fairy in my room, where’s she’s at right now, and go thaw meatballs and make spaghetti for dinner.  The fairy’s learning to talk, and becoming more and more of a problem, as you can tell from this blog and the events of the day.  She hates being left in the room and she’s become very attached to me.  I like the attention from her, but I wonder what she’s up too and I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep her a secret much longer.

     October 19, 2012

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