Chapter Nineteen: Veronica Blooms
Veronica rolled over in her bed. She was in a deep sleep the moment before when a sharp pain had caused her to open her eyes. She closed them again as the pain passed. Her eyes still hurt. She had been crying again last night. She wasn't even sure when she had fallen asleep. It must have been fairly late though. She didn't normally sleep this late into the morning. She could tell how late it was by the shadows that she saw on her floor when her eyes where open briefly. Veronica tried to roll over again. Her eyes burned and felt dry. They hurt more to keep them closed so she decided she may as well finally wake up, but she had found something in her way when she had tried to roll over. Something was stuck to her back. She got up and looked at her bed to find what it was that had been poking her. She couldn't find anything.
"Veronica!" Her little sister's voice pierced the silence. Jean was quite a bit younger than her, five years younger. The two didn't normally share a room, but Jean had spent the night last night curled up next to her sister. It had been that way for the last week. Every night Jean would try to be brave and sleep in her room, but around midnight she would tiptoe into Veronica's room and snuggle under the covers with her big sister. Veronica was trying to think what would make her sister call out so loudly.
"What is it Jaybird?" Veronica asked trying to clear her throat.
Jean's eyes were wide and stuck in a strange stare. They were glued to Veronica's back and she slowly raised her hand to point too. What was it that she was staring at? Then it slowly dawned on her. She put the pieces together one by one. Today was her birthday. Today she was turning eight.
She had really lost track of time and had only recently been reminded of the days of the week when she had finally shown up for school on Monday. She had missed the first week after break. Mrs. Iverson had run into complications while on a mission, they had been told by the fairies. There was nothing that could be done, they had said. Veronica never liked it when grown-ups didn’t just say things clearly? Why couldn't they just say what they wanted to say? Why couldn't they just say that her mother was dead? Veronica had tried to put together an idea of what happened that night her mother had died. She hadn't been told everything though since the grown-ups thought that details were not good for little kids. She had tried asking her father what had happened. The first few times she had asked she hadn't thought about what it might have meant for him. But after seeing his eyes so red and the tears starting again and having him reply by simply hugging her tight, she knew that she wouldn't get any answers from him and had stopped asking. Jean was so young that she didn't really get it. She knew that everyone was sad and that mom wasn't coming home. But she didn't really understand that mom was never coming home. Jean was worried more as she watched her father and sister cry those first few days. No one spoke very much then either. Finally, Veronica had noticed Jean staring at her from the open doorway one night when she was crying. Jean looked so sad and confused. Veronica asked her sister to come sleep with her. She tried to hide her tears while the two of them fell asleep. And that was the start of their new evening ritual. Mrs. Iverson would see each of the girls to bed each night. Rather robotically he would tuck them in, kissing their cheeks goodnight. The minute he would leave and bring the door closed Veronica's tears would start again. Sometimes without even thinking they would start. Veronica would cry for a while, just thinking about things. Then, just like clockwork, Jean would crack open the door around midnight and ask in a small voice, "Can I sleep with you tonight Veronica?" The minute Jean would appear Veronica's tears would lessen and she would find new strength to get her through the night. She would occasionally cry a little, but it had gotten a lot better with each evening.
She had stayed home from school the first week after. There were things to take care of and she did what she was told. But as each day passed she longed to be somewhere else. She wanted to see her friends. She wanted to go somewhere and do something, anything. Monday finally came and she was so happy to be able to go back to school. It was during the first lessons of the day that she had been reminded of what day it was. She had to ask her friend, Natalie, what the date was as she filled out the top of the worksheet that had just been handed to her. It was the fifth of October. That Thursday she would turn eight.
Last night, after letting her sister in under the covers, she had had one brief fleeting thought about tomorrow's events. Her birthday, that was a fun thing to think about. It was nice to have some fun thoughts for once after all these days of sadness. Eight, that was a big one too. Eight was when you would get your wings. Wings! That was what Jean was staring at in awe. Wings! That was what she had felt as she lay in bed. Wings!
Veronica lifted up her shirt and looked over her shoulder in the mirror. There they were! They were expanding in size as she watched, reaching up over her shoulders and down to her waist. She smiled at Jean as she turned around to give her a chance to see what was happening. Jean's smile lit up the room.
"You have wings!" she screamed.
"Yes, silly, today is my birthday, remember?" She tried to hide her emotion, but it was obvious in her smile that she was incredibly excited.
The longest tips stopped just around the backs of her knees and the highest point reached over her head. It felt so natural to have them now and Veronica couldn't help but stare at them in her mirror with pride. Her wings were a misty, silvery shade of gray. The forewings were just this gray color but with a series of iridescent opals of white spotting along the edge of the wing on each side. The hindwings had delicate scalloping. They were gray as well and there were similar opal spots along the edge; however, these spots were a little larger and not perfectly circle in shape. Then there were long thick lines of blue that rose up from where the opal spots were to about the middle of her hindwings. The blue was the exact same color as Veronica's hair, but it had a jewel-like glisten to it that made it look like topaz. Finally, at the end of each of these blue lines of color were round balls of gold. As Veronica turned to try to see the wings from the other side she saw that the golden balls were not visible from that view. Jean looked at them cautiously from the side.
"Can I touch them?" she asked in a timid voice.
"Sure!"
Jean reached out and touched the edge of one of the wings. She was surprised to find how strong they felt.
"Can you fly?" Jean asked. The smile on her face was a welcome sight to Veronica.
She hadn't thought about the flying part. She knew a few of the girls at school had already gotten their wings and that they had huddled together in groups talking about flying.
She straightened up and tried to think about what it was that she was supposed to do to fly. Anger crept into her mind as she found herself thinking that she should ask her mother what to do and then realizing that she couldn't do that anymore. Her mother was gone. Why hadn’t she thought to ask her mother questions about flying before? Veronica opened her eyes, forcing herself out of this negative place and saw her sister waiting anxiously. She smiled at her and thought about flying, how she imagined it would be and a few moments later she found herself hovering over the small flower carpet on her bedroom floor. Jean started screaming and laughing and running circles around her sister. Her sister's laughter was like a drug and it gave Veronica the push she needed. She was flying low around the room, just letting the very tips of her toes skim the floor.
"Hold me! I want to fly too!" Jean squealed. Veronica scooped her sister into her arms in a big hug. Jean wrapped her legs around her sister's back, just under her wings and gripped her arms around her neck so tight that Veronica thought she wouldn't be able to breath. Veronica flew with her sister clung to her in a scrunching bear hug and the two of them laughed and for the first time in a long time the sadness that was the loss of their mother was pushed aside.
The door suddenly burst open and Mrs. Iverson was standing there staring at the two girls. His face was creased with worry that was slowly changing. Was he
angry? Or was he sad? No, to Veronica's immense relief her father smiled. It was a small smile, and it seemed so delicate that at any moment it would go away. But Jean had leapt from her grip hold around Veronica's stomach and grabbed her father's hands into her own and pulled him into the room.
"Look dad! Veronica bloomed! She has wings!" Jean was jumping up and down with each word. His smile seemed to choose to stay and he pulled Veronica into a huge hug.
"Happy Birthday," he whispered into her hair. "They are beautiful wings."
It was pretty common to take off from work and school when there was a blooming. The three of them took the journey to see the Ancients and Veronica tried to be as brave as possible to show her sister that there was nothing to worry about. She knew that if her mother was there it would have been OK for Veronica to be scared, maybe even cry a little, but Veronica didn't want to make her father or sister worry, so she fought back her tears and stood up straight and heard what the Ancients had to say. They told her that she had the wings of a Spicebush Swallowtail. They told her that her wings would help her move quickly and smartly through the times facing her. That like the Spicebush, she would be best suited for working in secret and shadow, drawing as little attention to herself as possible. Veronica didn't know what to think of it all as she shared this information with her father and sister. Jean had asked her if this meant she might be some kind of spy, which had caused them all to laugh. Now that they had found a way to laugh again, it felt so natural and soothing.
The three of them were making their way out of the Great Hall when they ran into a fairy that Veronica remembered only too well. He had been one of the fairies who had come that night to bring them the news about her mother. Seeing him made Veronica remember that moment as if it had just happened the night before.
It was late, perhaps the early hours of morning, Veronica had heard the door and had leapt out of bed. She peered around the wall to watch her father open the door. She couldn't hear very well and so she tiptoed silently and crouched behind the sofa and listened as her father spoke to the fairies.
"Mr. Iverson, I am so terribly sorry to bother at such an hour," started one fairy.
"Is this about Cassandra?" Veronica could hear her father's voice tremble.
"We are so sorry to have to bring you this news. There has been an accident. While on a mission, there were some extreme conditions. They followed procedure and flew towards the stone to return. It was such a very difficult and unique situation that Cassandra tried to reach the stone . . ." The fairy stopped for a moment. Veronica heard a soft muffled thud. She took a chance and peered around the sofa to see what was happening and saw her father on his knees, crumpled with his face in his hands.
The fairy knelt down as well and placed his hand on Mrs. Iverson's back. "I am so sorry. It must be so hard. The thing to remember is that your wife was doing the noble work of the flyers, she was doing what she loved, and it is such an unfortunate and rare event. Our sincerest condolences."
Mrs. Iverson did not move, but shook slightly. Veronica's mind was racing. What did this mean? Her mother, could she possibly be dead?
Then the other fairy stepped through the door and around the two fairies kneeling. He placed a strong hand on Mrs. Iverson's shoulder and said in a clear, yet kind voice, "It is time to be strong Philip. You know what we must do. Though these instances have been so rare over the many years, when they do occur it has been decided by the Ancients that it is to be a secret. You have two small daughters, correct?"
Mrs. Iverson stood up on shaking legs and said in a feeble voice, "Yes." But then his voice grew stronger and surer as he continued. "But, I will tell them. They will know the truth. I will not lie to them."
The fairy searched Mrs. Iverson's face and must have seen something there to tell him that he was dealing with a man who had obviously made up his mind.
"That is your choice. But it is the more difficult way to do things. You must tell your daughters that the truth is to never leave this house. That the three of you are the only ones to know. That they must live a normal life and share with you the burden of pretending that your wife has simply been upgraded to higher-grade special missions. Are you prepared to ensure that your daughters and yourself follow these rules?"
"Yes." Mrs. Iverson spoke so clearly that it surprised Veronica.
"Then I ask you to begin this story immediately. The earlier your daughters learn to practice speaking about this new reality the better. We must ask you to come to see the Ancients tomorrow. They will need to tell you things, and make sure you understand. There are other options. Magic can be used with the girls . . ."
"NO!" Mrs. Iverson had cut across the fairy. "NO, there will be no magic or covering up of memories."
"They are young though. The youngest, Jean? She could benefit . . ."
"NO! They will know the truth. They will be proud of their mother. They will hide the truth alongside me."
The two fairies stared at Mrs. Iverson and nodded solemnly in agreement.
"So you are to meet with the Ancients tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. Mae Featherstone will meet you there." The fairy spoke clearly, searching Mrs. Iverson's expression.
"Is Mae all right?" Mrs. Iverson asked.
"Yes, she is fine. She is obviously shocked by the evening’s events."
Mrs. Iverson took a deep breath and then stared at the two fairies before him. "Was there nothing she could do?"
The fairies eyes searched the floor, hoping to find an answer that would sooth this man's broken world. "She did everything, everything she could, you must know."
Mrs. Iverson nodded and said in an ashamed voice, "Yes, of course. I am sure she did . . ."
Veronica was suddenly aware that she had heard her sister's door open. She reacted instinctively. She knew that this was not the time or the way for Jean to find out what happened and so she quietly and quickly returned to the hallway and caught her sister at her door.
"What's up Jaybird? Need to go to the bathroom?" Veronica tried to sound like herself as she scooted her sister into the bathroom, helped her get a quick drink of water and tucked her back into bed before returning to her own.
As she lay down in the darkness around her she felt the tears streaking her face, hot and burning. She knew that she would not sleep that night. She would lay awake letting these tears flood from her eyes as she tried to grasp what it meant to not have her mother around anymore. She wept silently for the last remaining hours of the morning. She tried to prepare herself for hearing this news from her father. And as the sadness of the news moved aside to numbness she thought of what she had heard. Mae Featherstone, Mae was her mother's flying partner. They had flown missions together for as long as she could remember. From what the fairies had said, she had been there. She had been responsible. She had NOT done enough. Veronica made her mind up at that moment, as the first streaks of the morning sun pierced through her room and her sadness. Mae Featherstone was the reason that she no longer had a mother and she would never, ever forgive her.
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About the Author
Heather Lynne Shida was born and raised in Aurora, Colorado. She met her husband through AOL. They married and moved to Japan in 1997. They have lived in a small town in Nagasaki for over 15 years. They have two girls and an awesome dog named Bear.
Heather’s love of writing began in elementary school. Her fifth grade teacher encouraged her to write her own books and publish them for the school library. The idea of the dream fairies came to her as she was washing her daughter’s face in the morning. Heather told her daughter how the fairies had come and sprinkled dust in her eyes and the birds had made nests in her hair. While walking her dog later in the day she recalled the story and looked at the beautiful countryside around her. She was inspired to tell the stories of these dream fairies and the birds they ride. She hopes to complete this series of stories as a gift to her two daughters, Audrey and Kate.
Heather is also the person behind h
appypuppytruffles Daily Origami, a YouTube channel that features a different origami tutorial every day. She has made over 750 origami so far and hopes to continue for years to come.
Dream Fairies Website: https://www.heatherlynneshida.com
The True Stories of Dream Fairies: Bloom Page 19
