The Great Big Fairy

by Dani Haviland

  Ж

  Wallace and I were lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, silently reflecting on the day’s events, but neither one of us wanting to talk about it yet. “I wonder what they’re doing over there?” Wallace asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

  “Uh, I think you know what they’re doing and I do, too. She is my daughter, you know,” I reminded him with a chuckle. “Um, I mean, I don’t know what I mean by that. Part of me doesn’t want to know that she has sex, and part of me is proud that she is so, um, frisky.” I said almost as a question.

  “Oh, I’m sure James is glad that she’s so, so healthy,” Wallace said, not quite sure of what I meant when I said frisky. “They’re a happy couple, and I’m sure glad they decided to stay here. James is a bright young man.”

  Wallace and I both snorted a laugh when he said young. Chronologically, James was older than Wallace, although by the calendar, Wallace had him beat by well over 200 years. “He’s brought with him so many new ideas and has the talent to take common, everyday items here and make them into time saving or comfort devices. I can’t wait until we can fabricate and install a hot water heater here for us.”

  I leaned over and pulled my husband close to me, glad that we were safe. “I’m sure glad we all got through that mess this afternoon unscathed. And I, uh, think Leah might be pregnant again.”

  Wallace’s eyes widened, asking a question that I didn’t have his hoped for answer to. “But, I think she’s the only one due next year,” I added glumly.

  “Well, we’ll just see what we can do about that! This family never seems to have babies one at a time,” Wallace said, and wiggled his belly against mine. “But, it might be easier on you if I only planted one seed. But, let’s plant a lot, just in case, to make sure at least one finds fertile ground.”

  35 Getting reacquainted

  B enji wrapped a thin strip of rag spirally around another long, thin piece of charred hardwood branch. He set it next to the others then took out his Leatherman and began sharpening the end of one of the charcoal sticks. He was making several of them for Jenny to use for her drawings.

  “Did ye bring one of those knife tools along with ye?” Jody asked, although it was obvious that he had: it was in his hand and he was using it as he spoke.

  “Nope," Benji said flatly, almost rudely. He looked up and saw his grandfather's shocked reaction. "I brought two of them," he said with a smile and handed the multi-tool he held to Jody. "I dinna ken what to get ye. I meant to bring ye a better gift, but this was all I could think of."

  "This is a nice gift,” Jody said as he turned the Leatherman over in his hand then pulled out the little pair of scissors. “A nice one, but not the best one ye could have brought.” Jody kept his head down. He sighed deeply then looked Benji in the eye. “The best one was ye. Ye canna ken how much I've missed ye.”

  Benji sniffed in acknowledgment that he understood. His voice was stuck between his heart and his throat again, and he knew better than to try and use it. The squeaks that came out when he felt this way were embarrassing, even if he knew that his grandfather understood. He reached into his sporran and took out the second Leatherman, opened out the long blade, holding it up to the light to look for non-existent nicks or gouges so he could pause to compose himself. "Weel, if it's only half as much as I've missed ye, then I ken,” he said and swallowed hard, glad that he was able to finish the compliment without breaking up.

  Jody picked up one of the fabric covered charcoal sticks and joined in the pencil making. “Ye ken, I’ve been thinkin’ about yer dilemma, with gettin’ marrit to sweet Janie.” He sighed in resignation. “But, bar movin’ to another colony or to Indian country, I dinna see how it can be done. I mean, ye could stay here and we could maybe kidnap a priest and hold his feet to a fire until he promised to perform the ceremony…”

  “It doesna have to be a priest. I mean, ye ken my father was a Protestant and it would be jest fine if it was a preacher. I dinna think it makes a difference to Janie. I never asked her preference, but I ken she believes in the Lord. Do ye ken of any Protestant ministers in the area?”

  “Aye, but I dinna think it would make a difference. And then there’s the other consideration. Is she a slave? I mean, if she’s been freed, she has to be gone or she can be enslaved again by, weel, jest about anyone who lays claim to her.”

  “No, she’s not free: I own her. I loaded some barrels in exchange fer her. I dinna mean to come here and be a slave owner but,” Benji looked over at his mentor, “ye ken how it is when ye do somethin’ that isna logical, but ye do it because ye ken here,” he said as he patted his chest, “that it is the right thing to do?”

  “Aye,” Jody chuckled, “I’ve been in that position more times than I can count.” He touched the thumb on his left hand to his fingers one at a time, then moved to his right hand and gave up his mock counting with a shrug. “And done deeds I kent werena in my best interest here,” he said as he pointed to his right temple, “but couldna deny here,” and pointed to his heart. “I would say that ye have the…” Jody shook his head as he tried to find the right word. “I dinna ken if it is a curse or a gift, but it’s certainly a responsibility: to look after the needs of others.”

  “Weel, I dinna ken if its a hereditary trait or nae, but from what I recall of the tales my mother told me when I was younger, ye’ve been the leader and protector fer people since, weel, fer a long time.”

  “Aye, a verra long time. It may not be welcome—the burden that is—but I thank the Lord that He made me strong enough to take on the tasks,” Jody said humbly.

  “And seein’ ye in action earlier, I’d say we were all blessed that ye arena bashful in standin’ up to the greater numbers,” Benji said.

  Jody shrugged his shoulder, grinned modestly, and then tried to bring the conversation back to their original dilemma. “I think this one will be harder to sort out: how do we get ye and yer lass marrit?” He shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, son. I’ve talked to Mr. Morris, the former magistrate, and he said that a white man and a Negro canna be marrit, at least if they want to live here in North Carolina. Now, since ye have papers on her, he said that most people turn a blind eye to, um, relations between a master and a slave.”

  “Hmph!” Benji snorted loudly. He looked up and knew that he was just delivering the news; Grandpa didn’t like what he was saying any more than he liked hearing it. Benji shut his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the image of being a slave master having his way with a slave, his beloved Janie.

  He felt his grandfather’s heavy hand on his shoulder. “I dinna think there’s a way ye can stay here and be marrit to her. Maybe if ye moved to another colony or further west still... Or ye could live with the Indians. They dinna seem to care about the color of a person’s skin as long as he’s not stealin’ his land or goods. But, I ken ye want to be marrit; I dinna ken where ye can do that, at least anywhere near here.”

  “What ye arena sayin’ is louder than what ye are tellin’ me. That I need to go back,” Benji said glumly. He chuckled, “Aye, I need to go back to the future.”

  “I love ye nearly as much as I do yer grannie, but if what ye feel fer Janie is like what I feel fer yer grannie,” Jody shook his head in amazement, “well, I’m glad I got to see ye again. I can take ye to The Trees yer talkin’ about whenever yer ready. We had to go there to pick up Evie when she came back last year. Now, do ye still have yer coin?”

  “Aye, I managed to keep it. I think if the two of us hold each other tight, it will work fer both of us. I ken there are a few more of those coins here in the family, but I’ll not ask fer one fer her. If somethin’ happened and James and Leah had to leave in a hurry, they’d need one fer wee Bibby. Aye, I’m glad I got to see ye and Grannie again, and meet my uncles, Evie, my cousins and weel, everyone here. And if I hadna come, I never would have met my Janie.”

  36 How auld are ye?

  “H ow auld are ye, lad? Jody asked as he pushed the
fresh pile of straw out of the wagon.

  “Weel, I had to get used to a new birthdate, so April first, April Fool’s Day, 1980 is on my driver’s license, that’s a certificate for operating… Anyway, I’m 34 years old. Why’d ye ask?”

  “Accordin’ to when ye were born, that is April first, 1767; ye should only be 15 years old. What happened to the other 19 years?”

  “They werena verra pleasant so I erased them, scrubbed them from my life. Hmm, yer right, though. I never thought about that,” Benji said, his jovial attitude suddenly becoming serious and concerned.

  “I think I may have an explanation,” James said, as he walked up to join the two. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. You see, Leah and I came here using the movie of her mother as our focus. You do remember that little smartphone Evie had; the one you stuck in your sporran after the little red light came on?”

  “Aye, and Leah said it made a movie of me and Sarah and Evie, and that ye saw what we looked like, and ye used it to concentrate on when ye came through The Trees with the wee Greek coin,” Jody said to make sure that was what James was referring to.

  “Yes,” James said, “and it didn’t make a difference what year it was, we were going to see her. And yes, we both consciously left out her pregnant condition as our focus. If we hadn’t, we would have been here before the babies were born and she came to the hospital and saw Leah. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. We, at least I know I didn’t, focus on a year; it was a person. The Trees are only part of the time ticket. Hmph. I’ve always heard that the brain, the mind, is a very powerful tool but that we don’t know how to use it. Evidently, The Trees are an amplifier of sorts. I know they’re on a magnetic ley line, too. Shoot, I don’t need to know how it all works. I’m just glad that it wasn’t painful and that we got here unscathed.”

  “Aye,” Benji said, “and I used the same video, I mean movie, as my focus to get here to ye and Evie. I already ken what ye looked like. Actually, it was pretty scary; almost like lookin’ in a mirror. But, if ye’d like, I can leave and come back in another 19 years?” Benji joked.

  “Nae, ye have it wrong: ye’d have to come 19 years earlier from yer time to be here today at the age ye should be. But, I’m healthier now than then. And I rather like talkin’ to an adult rather than a teenager, although I woulda urged ye to change a few decisions ye made,” Jody said with eyes narrowed in mild admonishment. “Yer here now, but I’m afraid yer gonna have to go back. Yer sure ye want to do it tomorrow?” Jody asked, hoping that he’d visit longer.

  “Aye, I canna think of a reason to stay another day in a time where she’s a slave. I woulda been gone already, but I’m a bit selfish. I wanted to see ye and Grannie jest a little longer. And now I ken I have two uncles,” Benji said, stopping his sentence in mid thought before he added, ‘and I can tell my mother she has twin brothers.’ Time traveling 232 years forward was a cinch: reconnecting with his parents wasn’t going to be so easy.

  37 Really Scarrit

  18th and 21st centuries

  “H old onto my elbow with this hand and keep a grip on the coin with the other,” Benji said as he patted her right hand. “This is where we’ll walk through tomorrow morning. Remember to concentrate on the image of Billy. Do ye think ye have a good picture of him in yer heid?”

  Jane nodded then looked over at him. “I’m a bit scarrit,” she said in a Scots accent. “Would ye hold me one last time before we go?”

  “Aye, ye were rememberin’ me being scarrit in the tent, werena ye?” he asked.

  “Aye,” she nodded once and smiled nervously as she recalled, “but, I don’t think you were as scarrit as I was that day. I didn’t know what you were going to do to me after you found out I could understand English.”

  “Me? I thought ye’d want to stone me or burn me at the stake after tellin’ ye that I was from yer future. I mean, dinna ye think I was a witch or somethin’?”

  “No,” she said as she shook her head slowly, “just a verra big fairy. But, whether you were a man or a fairy, I wouldn’t have hurt you, even if you weren’t my master. I, um, kinda liked you, um, from that first day when you did the loading for me, and gave me food and water.”

  “Weel, I’d like to think that ye’d do the same fer me if the situation was reversed,” Benji said.

  Jane didn’t reply to his comment. He looked over to see if he had missed her reply or if she had only nodded an affirmation. But, she hadn’t done either. He could tell by the puzzled look on her face that she didn’t understand the concept. He reworded his statement, hoping for clarity. “If it was me who was the slave, and ye were the white man, then ye woulda helped me out.” Jane still looked confused. “If ye saw another slave who needed food, drink, and a hand, ye’d help her or him if ye could.”

  “Of course,” she answered, as if he had completely changed his assumption. Suddenly, she realized what he had suggested. “Oh, you mean, like you and I are the same?”

  “We’ve both been slaves and we’re both gonna be free as soon as we’re through these trees. So, do ye think ye can handle it?” He grinned, turned toward her, and held her face in his hands.

  “I learn pretty fast, or so I’ve been told. I think I can learn to be free. At least, I’d like to try.” Jane’s face fell suddenly. “You’re not leaving me alone, are you? I mean, if I don’t know what to do, you’ll be there, right?”

  “Jest try to get rid of me…” Benji kidded. Jane looked even more panicked at his joke. He held her close to comfort her, and explained, “One of the first things we’re goin’ to do is get married, legally, okay? That is, if ye still want me after ye see how fancy the world is in the 21st century. Ye may not want anythin’ to do with me after ye see how many good lookin’ men are out there; schools to go to, jobs to have…”

  “Jest try and get rid of me,” Jane replied dryly.

  Benji burst out laughin’, the tears of mirth rising in his eyes. “Weel, if there’s nothin’ else I’ve given ye, ye did get my sense of humor.”

  Ж

  The next morning was chilly, the air calm. The ground was still damp from the brief summer rain that had fallen during the night. The combination of the cool, early false start at autumn and warm, damp soil had dressed their site in low, diaphanous fields of ground fog. Jane had been awake for at least an hour. She really didn’t have any fond memories of her life, so leaving the 18th century was fine with her. Actually, other than Benji and his kin, the only pleasant recollections she had were incomplete, shattered images of her mama. She couldn’t remember what her face looked like completely, just her sad eyes filled with hope that life would be better for her daughter than it had been for her. She couldn’t remember her features, but she could still hear her voice in her head, “Don’t be mean, don’t let anyone make you mean,” she said. “You’re a smart, gentle person, so don’t let any man or woman beat you into a stone.’ Yes, Jane was sure that she wouldn’t miss anything about this place except for Benji’s family.

  Benji stirred next to her. She instinctively moved in closer to him, enjoying the comfort of spoonin’ as he called it. She felt his hand move from being draped over her waist to touching her gently on the shoulder, sliding his hand down her arm then over the outside line of her hip. “Are ye ready, Janie?” he asked softly.

  She answered with a nod then turned toward him, “Verra much so.”

  “Me, too. Let’s get on with it then.”

  Ж

  The two of them continued their slow-paced walk even after the gentle breeze—a magnetic vortex James had theorized—had ceased. “We’re here, I think.” Benji reached across his chest and patted Jane’s hand that had a vise grip on his arm.

  “It doesn’t look like we went anywhere except through the trees,” she said, trying to hide the sound of disappointment. She saw Benji’s distressed frown and quickly added, “And I concentrated on Billy, really, I did!”

  “Weel, if ye did, and everything else was right, then we’re here in the
21st century.”

  Jane suddenly dropped into a squatted position on the ground, covered her ears, and then ducked her whole head into her lap and knees, a low moan of fear escaping from her hunched over form.

  “What’s wrong?” Benji looked around for rattlesnakes, then he realized what it was. The noises of 21st century civilization—still familiar to him, but alien to her—were surrounding them. There was a highway nearby and, although it wasn’t visible, the ascending and descending roars of the traffic probably sounded like a hoard of wild animals attacking then retreating then coming back again, constantly changing directions.

  “It’s okay, I promise,” Benji said and reached for her hand to help her to her feet. “There’s nothin’ here, no person, no animal, no, no nothin’,” he faltered, “that will harm ye while I’m here, okay?” He wanted to make sure she knew that she had her protector literally at hand. “I ken this world, remember? What yer afraid of is what ye dinna ken. Yer a smart woman; ye’ll learn about this verra fast, I’m sure. Now, a great metal carriage without horses will come here to take us to where we’ll be stayin’. I’m not sure where that will be, but I can jest about promise ye that the accommodations will be grander than anythin’ either one of has seen in the last month.” Benji swatted at a buzzing fly, “And a lot less buggy.”

  He reached into his sporran and took out the smartphone. “James said this would still work: somethin’ about payin’ fer lifetime phone service and a solar charger. Oh, here it is,” he said, as he pointed with his index finger to the photo icon of Billy. “See, I jest touch this picture and voila!”