The Fairy Trail

by Catherine Ras

  within her light.

  Maggie fell to her knees, unable to stop the tears flooding her eyes. “Please, please you must save my son.” She rolled her head as if the movement would stop her emotional pain. “I can’t lose him. My life was really crappy until he was born. I don’t deserve this. He is the brightest light in my existence. Please, help me. You owe me. It’s because of your kind that my life was so horrible. There has to be something….”

  The white fairy’s body lifted from her porch and floated toward Maggie, stopping directly in front of her face. Even though her hand was no larger than one of Maggie’s fingernails, when the fairy touched her face, she experienced an energy flow through her body like nothing she had ever felt before. As every nerve fiber in her body tingled, she raised her eyes to meet the white fairy’s gaze.

  “I am sorry your child is sick, but Maggie, we have been here helping you throughout your childhood. We have bestowed upon you the gifts you asked for, but what you ask for and what you do with them was always your choice. Your failures are yours and yours alone. We cannot bestow a gift so great as to what you are asking.”

  “You can’t or you won’t!” Maggie cried out angrily. She reached out to grab the fairy who immediately retreated.

  Suspended just out of Maggie’s reach, the fairy continued. “There is nothing we can do for you.”

  Maggie jumped to her feet, causing the fairy to recoil then soar up even higher to stay out of her reach. “You’re denying me my son’s life because you don’t think I used your gifts the way you think they should have been used?” Maggie screamed at her.

  “Maggie, our precious Maggie, in all these years that we have been by your side, have you not learned anything?”

  Maggie turned in a circle, clutching her head as she tried to make sense of what the white fairy was saying, but it didn’t come to her. Slowly she dropped her hands and stared down the white fairy. With her eyes sharp, her teeth gritted, she said, “That all of you and your gifts are worthless. You did nothing but make my life more miserable than it already was.”

  Maggie spun on her heels and left the woods.

  ***

  When Tyler got home from school, he headed up to his room to once again think about everything his mothers’ told him about his tumor. He had researched the name of his cancer on the computer. He didn’t understand everything he read, but he got the gist of it.

  His mother said he didn’t have a choice for the surgery or treatments. He didn’t feel that was fair. Yeah, he was ten years old—still a kid, but it was his life. Didn’t he get to have a say in what they did to him?

  The door to his mother’s bedroom was slightly ajar. He paused before it when he heard their voices.

  “I can’t live without him. My life turned around when he was born. You know that.”

  “I know, Maggie. You both made my life better. I love him like I gave birth to him.”

  “But you….”

  Charlie’s voice interrupted Maggie’s. In a heated voice, she said, “Don’t go there. We already put that one to rest.”

  Maggie’s voice quieted. “I’m sorry. I know you love him too. But if he…if he dies, I don’t think I will ever find happiness again.”

  “We’ll find it together if it comes down to that.”

  “Really? Do you honestly think you could find happiness after losing your child?”

  “I don’t know, Maggie. I would hope in time.”

  “Well, not me, not even with you. I would never find happiness again.”

  Tyler heard hard footsteps coming toward the door. He ducked into the bathroom.

  “I thought we would always be in this together, Maggie—through the good times and the bad times. It sounds to me like you never believed that. If you don’t, then what am I doing here?”

  Tyler watched Charlie leave his mother. Seconds later he heard the front door slam. Charlie left. Was she coming back?

  Now he didn’t have a choice. He had to live or his mother would…he couldn’t imagine what would happen to her without him and if Charlie left too.

  That couldn’t happen.

  He had no guarantee either that any of the medical treatments they told him he would have to go through would work. He had read about the “odds or chances of survival.” He was pretty sure his weren’t good even if he had surgery and chemo and radiation.

  Tyler slipped out of the bathroom. He stopped in the hall for a moment as he heard his mother’s sobs. He knew what he had to do.

  Chapter Forty-six

  As Tyler walked down the street, he pulled his baseball cap as far down on his head as he could then flipped the hood of his sweatshirt up over it. He didn’t want anyone to see him entering the forest.

  When he walked in to the woods, he was thinking his mother might be losing it. Sure, she told him all the stories about the fairy houses on the trail in the woods and the fairies that had given her gifts to help her through some tough times, but she was beginning to believe it had really happened. He was ten, and he knew there was no such thing as fairies.

  However, if he really believed that, why was he standing in the middle of the trees where his mother insisted little fairy houses perched amidst branches, existed in holes, and sat upon stumps? The answer was that his mother and Charlie were falling apart because of him, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

  He was a kid. He was supposed to believe in magic and fantasy, but he stopped believing in Santa Claus a few years ago. More to the point, a large tumor growing on your brain and all the medical baggage that was going to come with it was bound to dull your imagination gene. He pondered that maybe the tumor was growing on that part of his brain.

  At that moment, he remembered all her stories about how horrible her life was: parents who mistreated her and deserted her, bullying from her classmates, and the rape he knew that lead to his existence. His mothers never told him that—he heard them talking about it one night about it.

  It didn’t bother him—where he came from, because his mothers more than made up for it. They had always made sure he was safe, fed, clothed well, happy, healthy and most of all, loved. They sacrificed everything they could to ensure he had the best life possible. Ten year olds usually didn’t see things like that, but large tumors on your brain made you think differently.

  The one thing that he didn’t think differently about was his mother’s whining. His mother whined often, and Charlie and he would often tease her about it. He really didn’t mind her whining, though, because he understood where it came from. One night when Maggie was shopping, Charlie sat him down and explained about his mother’s childhood. She told him Maggie whined because it was her way of dealing with her past.

  He smiled while he inspected the inside of an empty log—nothing. If his mother had any faults other than whining, it was that she did have a bad childhood and never really got over it. Sometimes she would catch herself when she told him how good he had it—that her life had been nothing but misery. Then as quickly as she scolded him, she would turn away and silently admonish herself. The last thing she wanted was to turn into her mother.

  He studied some very large tree roots. There was nothing—just the gnarly juts of the tree weaving in and out of the ground, so he sat down in between them. He thought about the story of when his mom met Charlie. When they finally got together with Charlie, Maggie’s life turned around. He loved Charlie, and he knew she made his mother happy, but after hearing the conversation between them, he was aware that if he died, his mother would retreat back to the miserable existence she had as a child. No one, not even Charlie would be able to get through to her.

  He didn’t need his parents or doctors to tell him he was running out of time.

  He inspected the trees around him. His mother had told him the bed time stories of the fairies, their houses and how they helped her ever since he could remember. When, at five years old, they came looking for the fairies, he wasn’t going to see them, just like now. There were no little
houses or tiny people, because they were only alive in his mother’s imagination…or so he thought.

  Shortly after he was diagnosed, his mother confided in him that the stories she told him were really true, thus why he thought she was losing it. He thought maybe she said that to take his mind off of his impending doom, but his mother was adamant, so resolute, in her belief she came to this very spot the next day. He knew because he followed her to the woods, but he didn’t go in. Instead, he turned around and went back home. He didn’t want his mom to be embarrassed when he saw her talking to no one.

  He was in the kitchen when she returned angry and sad. He heard her tell Charlie that she wanted to sell the house and use the money to take Tyler where ever he wanted to go and do whatever he wanted to do. Then she cried… and cried…and cried.

  He had never seen his mother like that. He had no idea what she did in the forest, but what he realized at that moment was his mother finally accepted that he was going to die—probably sooner than later, and because of it, she and Charlie were falling apart.

  He wasn’t afraid of dying—he had come to accept his fate. It was his mother he was worried about because he was afraid of what his death would do to her. He just wanted her to be okay. All he wanted was for his mother to be happy—really happy.

  He noticed a hole in the tree opposite where he sat. He got up to look inside. As he was peering into the hole, he became acutely aware of the dazzling light that was surrounding him. He hesitated as he tried to figure out where the light was coming from. Was it from a flashlight? No, it was still too early in the day for a flashlight to emit that much brightness.

  As he stood, he noticed the light was filled with many different colors, almost like a prism. Then he saw them. Tiny houses in the trees, resting amidst branches, sitting on stumps, hidden in the roots—all different kinds, shapes and sizes surrounding him.

  In the door of each house stood a very small, but very real fairy.

  “Hello, Tyler,” the voices spoke in unison.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Tyler fell backward, landing on his behind on the ground. “Who, who are you? This isn’t real. You’re not real. You’re just a fairy tale. This damn tumor is messing with my head.”

  “You’re not hallucinating,” a sharp female voice said.

  Tyler looked up to see a fairy all in white, floating just above his head. She was smiling at him. He saw light of every color imaginable illuminating everything around him, drawing his focus to its sources. The fairies were now floating in front of each house dressed in the colored light that was emanating from their bodies.

  It was beautiful, and it was real.

  “In answer to your question, my name is Aonani, and I am queen of the fairies.”

  “How, why can I see you?”

  “Because you believe.”

  “I said you were a fairy tale.”

  “But you didn’t really believe it. You came here to look for us.”

  “To see if you were real,” Tyler insisted.

  “I don’t believe that’s the reason you came. It’s not us you need to be honest with. You need to be honest with yourself.” The fairy eyed Tyler. She seemed unsure of him.

  His shoulders slumped. “I need your help.”

  “We can’t give you what you want.” Aonani flew to her house and landed on the stump.

  “You don’t even know what I want.” Tyler stood up, brushed his pants off, and stomped over to her house.

  “You want a gift from one of us to help you with a problem.”

  “No, that’s not what I want. I don’t want help for me. I want it for my mother.”

  The fairy’s eyes softened. “You don’t want a gift to help yourself?”

  “No, didn’t you hear me? I want help for my mother.”

  All the other fairies flew over to the stump and joined Aonani. They studied him for several moments.

  Aonani tilted her head in curiosity. “Why do you want to help your mother?”

  “She was here before. I think she was asking you to cure me. So you know I have cancer and I’m gonna die.”

  “Don’t you want us to cure you?”

  Tyler’s eyes lit up. “Can you?”

  After a pause, she said, “No, I’m sorry. I was just curious as to what you want for your mother. Common sense would tell me you want to be cured to make your mother happy.”

  “Sure, who wouldn’t want to get rid of a tumor in their head, but I’m okay. I’ve accepted it.

  She waved her hand in the air. “Tsch, tsch, So if you can’t have that, what do you want for your mother?”

  “I just want her not to mess up her life because I’m gone. I want her to be happy. I want her to see the great people around her that will always be there for her like Charlie, and Aunt Agnes, Leena and Tess.”

  “Okay, and how would you like us to do that?”

  Tyler thought for a moment. “She’ll be so sad when I die. Maybe you can take that sadness away and replace it with…oh, I don’t know…happy thoughts?”

  Aonani smiled. “So let us get this straight.” Aonani looked around at all the fairies. “You’re not asking for anything for yourself. You’re not asking for a cure. You’re asking for us to do something for your mother.”

  Tyler appeared confused. Isn’t that what he said? “Um, yeah.” Then his eyes misted, and his face grew sad. “Please, my mom has been the greatest mom there is. She’s always been there for me and told me great stories about you, and I never wanted anything because she always gave it to me. So I want this…for her.”

  Aonani nodded her head and at that moment the wings of all the fairies including herself began to flutter and pick up speed. The colored light once again shot out from each fairy and joined together with the bright white light transmitting from Aonani.

  The fairies surrounded Tyler, bathing him in a rainbow of colors. He turned in circles, his smile and laughter revealing the essence of his child’s imagination. The faster the light swirled about him, the faster he turned until he grew so dizzy he fell to the ground.

  He shut his eyes tightly, fighting the dizziness that was taking over. He was so woozy it caused him to be off balance, and he kept falling over every time he tried to get up. He was scared that maybe he made his tumor worse. The back of his head was pounding, and his stomach began to lurch—the same symptoms he had before he went to the doctor’s.

  He thrust his hands up to his head and pressed tightly against the pain. Within seconds, everything stopped—the pain, the sick feeling, the pounding and the dizziness. Slowly he opened his eyes, and it took a moment for them to focus.

  The light was gone and so were the fairies and their houses.

  Tyler stood up. He actually felt pretty good, but he was confused as to what happened and where the fairies went. He wondered if they really had been there or if his tumor had played with his mind.

  Tyler sighed. There really wasn’t such a thing as fairies, and they wouldn’t be able to help his mom. He walked home with a heavy heart, knowing that his mother would be forever sad because of him.

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Tyler started building fairy houses when he was five years old and continued to do so as he grew older. The fairy houses had become a hobby of his building them now with wood, nails and glue, and elaborately decorating them. He had several decorated the back yard with them and even given several out as gifts. That was until the day he went to see them and discovered they weren’t real. The doctor had verified that for him. Tyler asked him if the tumor could make him see things that weren’t real, and he was told it was possible.

  When he got home, he went in the backyard and tore down every fairy house and tossed them in the garbage. Then he went up to his bedroom shutting the door and refusing to come out until dinner.

  When his mother asked him what was wrong, his only response was “nothing”. Charlie was beside herself because now she had two very sullen people in the house, and no matter what she did sh
e could not cheer them up.

  Several days later, the doctors and his parents decided to try radiation first. They hoped by targeting and reducing the part of the tumor that was intertwined with the brain stem, it might give them a chance to surgically remove it.

  He was taken to the hospital for more scans. These had to be exact in order to make the mold for the radiation machine. This protected the other parts of his brain and his head from being affected by the rays.

  When he was done, Maggie took him to MacDonald’s—his favorite place that he wasn’t allowed to frequent too often. Charlie believed in health foods, and since she did the cooking, Maggie and Tyler didn’t complain because once in a while Maggie would sneak in a visit to the food dens of iniquity. Today was one of those days and Tyler had chosen McDonalds.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “Do I have to go to school when I lose my hair or get sick?”

  Maggie took a sip of her soda. “You don’t have to go if you’re feeling sick, but I’m not sure losing your hair is going to get you some days off.”

  Tyler slumped in his chair. He picked up his burger and took a small bite.

  “But it will get you some new baseball caps to wear if that happens.”

  He perked up. “Really?”

  “Really. Charlie said we could go shopping tonight after dinner. How does that sound?”

  “Okay.”

  She watched her son pick at his French fries, wishing she could take it all away. Normally he would ask his mother if they could go to this store and that store as he listed all the things he wanted to buy. She knew the only thing on his mind wasn’t what he could buy, but why he was purchasing it.

  After ten minutes on the ride home, he sat up and turned to his mother. “Do you think the doctors can cure me?”