Aye, I am a Fairy

by Dani Haviland

  Leah’s voice brought him out of his fanny-watching trance. “The fence is to keep out non-residents and little kids without adult supervision, not to keep ducks and geese in,” she deadpanned, looking back to make sure he was still with her.

  He chuckled politely and did a quick, two-step run to catch up with her.

  “Now this is the rough part. Ow, ow, ouch, ouch, ow,” she sang as she dashed across the textured concrete to the shade of the umbrella table and lawn chairs. James followed—and tried to be stoic—but wound up doing the same hot-foot dance right behind her, proud that he hadn’t copied her sing-song exclamations. He plopped down in the overstuffed cushioned patio chair, brought his feet up off the ground, and set his drink down next to hers. He noticed that she hadn’t spilled any of hers either.

  “Normally I like mine naked,” he said, and paused for her reaction.

  And he got it. Leah looked at him like, ‘What are you talking about?’

  “But on a day like today, I think it’s better to have it on the rocks,” and lifted his drink.

  “Uh, oh…yes,” Flushed with embarrassment, she answered his toast. “Cheers!” She took a lingering drink and sighed in satisfaction as she set her cup down. The tone had been set. “Now, you can tell a lot about a person by the way he—or she—gets into the water.” Leah pulled her yellow cotton print cover-up off over her head and looked at James, grinning as if she knew a secret, and then dove into the deep end of the pool.

  James set his drink on the table, the valise on the chair, and followed her in. He came up for air at the shallow end of the pool, having swum the whole length with one breath. He shook his head like a shaggy dog. I should have gotten a haircut before I left, went through his mind as he dipped back into the water to get his dark, thick hair out of his face.

  “No, I think it looks good long,” Leah said.

  “Am I that easy to read?” James asked, feeling a little giddy from the whisky and cold-water shock.

  “Yes, no, I mean, don’t you know you aren’t supposed to drink and dive?” Leah replied quickly, smiling lamely at her own weak pun.

  It wasn’t nice to read someone’s mind, and she probably wouldn’t have ‘peeked’ if she hadn’t had the drink. Oh, well; it was an obvious conclusion to him re-dipping his head in the water to get the hair out of his eyes. Quick, change the subject. “Did you know you can get the same effect as an isolation tank, pretty much, by floating in a swimming pool and closing your eyes?”

  Leah lay back in the cool comfort of the chlorine-enhanced water and relaxed, trying hard not to squeeze her eyes shut too tightly. The water splashed against her face, making her flinch, but she willed herself to loosen every muscle in her body. First, relax the back, then the shoulders, elbows, hands, and fingers. Next phase, top of head, face, neck, and down: concentrate on a separate portion of the anatomy with each slow breath in and controlled exhale out. She had just about achieved her swimming pool nirvana when she felt a bump. Her hand jerked away as she balled up reflexively, turning around to see who or what she had collided into. It was James. He was in the same sedate pose as she had been, but evidently hadn’t been disturbed by their encounter.

  Wow, he’s so perfect, she thought as she returned to her back-floating serenity. Oh, well. It’s probably a good thing he is gay. Life is so much less complicated when sex isn’t involved. Friends with benefits tend to be less friends and more benefit seekers. And guy friends aren’t bitchy, don’t get jealous, and… Crap, Leah, just lie back and relax. At least he isn’t afraid of a man with a knife. There’s something to be said about having a white knight from England on your side. I wonder if I should order a pizza…

  Leah couldn’t keep her mind still, but James could. He had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep. He dreamt of flying—flying without an airplane—more like floating with a purpose. His thoughts were of greens and blues, living and breathing elements of the earth moving around below him. He saw two old trees down an old dusty road. There were two sets of footprints leading to the trees. One set stopped at the tree and turned back to the road. The other looked like slipper prints. Those went right through the trees, then disappeared. A flash of a pink gown appeared momentarily, then a noise, like an electrical short, and then nothing. No, not nothing—he smelled bananas. Now it was just the trees, their branches hanging nearly to the ground, as if they were mourning…

  KABAAM! The explosion literally rattled the doors and windows of the apartments near to the pool. James’s body curled up immediately into ‘protect the vital organs’ mode. He sank briefly, then rebounded with arms flailing, mouth spitting and sputtering, totally disoriented at being awakened from a deep dream state into a large body of water.

  Leah had been relaxed, but was not asleep. She flipped over, swam to the edge, scrambled out, and ran to the fence. “My apartment! It’s on fire!” she screamed. She struggled with the gate latch, realized it had to be unlocked with her key, and then panicked. Rather than get her keys, she grabbed the hot tubular steel and tried to climb over the fence.

  James realized some of what was going on. “Freeze!” he ordered.

  Leah instinctively obeyed, but let loose of the fence railing. She turned around and glared at him, “But my apartment’s on fire and, and…”

  “Call the fire department from here. Your phone’s on the table. Your life isn’t worth anything that could possibly be inside. Now! Call them!” he shouted.

  Leah grabbed the phone, dialed 911, and shouted, “My apartment’s on fire!”

  The operator answered, “Yes, ma’am, we have units on the way. We’ve already received a call. Do NOT go into the building, and stay back at least 500 feet. Let the men do their job. Now, are you or anyone else injured?”

  “No, not me; I was away when, oh my God! Billy was right next door! Billy Burke lives next door, and he was inside just a few minutes ago!”

  “Ma’am, calm down. Detective Burke was the one who called in the explosion. He’s fine. Now, if you’re okay, I’d like to get off the line. Are you sure you’re okay?” The dispatcher was firm, but concerned, and Leah could tell.

  “Yeah, I guess I’m fine. Thanks.” She pushed the end button, yelped, “Shit!” then, “Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!” She had been so stunned by all that was going on, she hadn’t realized that her feet were burning. She walked awkwardly but quickly on the outside edges of her soles to the first step at the shallow end of the pool, a perplexed penguin finding relief.

  James stood on the metal cross bar of the fence, straining to see what was transpiring at the scene of excitement. He got down and hop-stepped across the burning deck into the water next to Leah, the two of them still contained in the once peaceful realm of the swimming pool zone. He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed it tightly. She turned into him and buried her face into his fuzzy chest, and sobbed quietly, no tears coming from her eyes. She stopped all movement suddenly, as if someone had once again told her to freeze. She pulled back from James, placed her hands on his biceps to steady herself, and said, “Your hair tickles my nose,” wrinkling it like a rabbit testing the air.

  “Well, that’s a good thing. It means you’re still alive and,” he tipped her chin up to look into her eyes, “that is a very good thing. Everything else is just stuff. Now, shall we let the professionals take care of their job, and you and I, well, how about we go out to dinner?”

  Leah walked into the water further, then turned around and sat on the top step, immersing her bottom in the warmer, upper region of the pool. “No shirt, no shoes, no service is the rule at just about every restaurant I know of. I have a shirt, but damn, I don’t even have any shoes. And I don’t have any money, or a debit card, or…or…”

  James sat down next to her, urging her to scoot sideways so they would both fit. “Well, what do you have?”

  “Well…well,” she stuttered, searching for an answer.

  “That was a rhetorical question. You have a car, keys, two smartphones, and last, but n
ot least,” he finished with a smile, “me. I have some money, but my vehicle doesn’t have air conditioning, so if you wouldn’t mind, could we take yours to maybe an air-conditioned motel with room service? After dinner, I can go out and get you a few clothes so you’re decent enough that you can go buy yourself whatever you need. You see, today I have money. It looks like I won’t be buying the mill from Bibb, after all. Luring me to America under false pretenses…” James shook his head as if saying, ‘shame, shame.’

  “Okay, I guess that will work. As long as Billy is okay,” Leah said glumly. All of a sudden, she brightened up, “Hey, that means I probably won’t have to go to work tomorrow! There’s always a bright side to everything. It’s just that sometimes you have to look harder.”

  Leah stood up out of the water, the wet bottom half of her red one-piece bathing suit darker than the now completely dry top half. “Let’s roll, Daddy-O. I’m hungry,” she said, and reached out to help James stand up.

  “I’m not that old,” he replied as he took her hand, “and definitely not anybody’s daddy.”

  He flinched as he let go of her hand. Hopefully she hadn’t misinterpreted the little squeak that had come at the end of his statement, that it was actually him biting off the word ‘yet’ that made his sentence end oddly. The truth was that he wasn’t anybody’s daddy, but he’d like to be somebody’s daddy. But, you don’t reveal that to someone you’ve just invited to a motel, dinner, and a new wardrobe.

  *10 Bad Reception and Pizza

  Leah hated to make left hand turns, so drove to the first motel that was on her side of the street. “This should be an easy place to get in and out of,” she said. “I’ll wait in the car for you. I’d make a lousy first impression with the way I’m dressed. They’d probably kick me out for hooking if I tried to get a room.”

  “Hooking?”

  “Soliciting; selling sex…” Leah explained awkwardly.

  “Oh. I’ll be just a minute then,” James said, quickly regaining his composure. “At least they have air conditioning. I don’t see how anyone could live here without it,” he added with a shudder.

  James opened the car door into the oppressive heat and humidity, leaving Leah and the air-conditioned car in the shade of the ramada. He entered the stuffy and stale lobby through the double set of glass doors. He was still wearing the borrowed swimming trunk shorts, but had thrown on his newly acquired vintage U2 tee shirt.

  “James Melbourne, and I’ll be paying cash,” he said as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying, so please give me a room that isn’t promised for the next few nights,” he added politely, and put down a hundred dollar bill.

  “Will it be just you, sir?” asked the indifferent young man behind the counter.

  “No, there are two of us,” he replied tersely, hoping the longhaired clerk wasn’t going to be too nosy.

  “Well, I’ll need his name, too, and both of your drivers licenses.” The clerk paused at seeing James’s stubborn stare. “It’s the law. I personally don’t care who you are or who you take up to your room.”

  “Well, you’ll just have to be satisfied with this,” James pulled out his wallet and thrust down his British driver’s license, “and this,” he threw down a second hundred dollar bill and growled, “because her apartment and everything in it—including her driver’s license—just burned to the ground. And you can verify that on your evening news if you don’t believe me.”

  The clerk was wide-eyed at the sound of menace in James’s voice. He quickly gave him the key. “It’s out back. It has a discreet entrance, and it doesn’t have any reservations pending.”

  James glared at him, uttered a short grunt of disgust, then slapped his hand down on top of the second hundred dollar bill, palming it back into his fist. “Call the police department. They’ll verify the recent apartment fire and that a woman just lost her home because of it. Tell your boss he can speak with me if he has a problem with it.”

  James turned his back to leave and heard the clerk say softly under his breath, “Asshole.”

  James had a keen sense of hearing, and almost ignored it, but he had had a rough day and was tired of people taking advantage of his good humor. “Asshole?” he repeated loudly as he spun around, embarrassing the clerk in front of the old couple who had come in after him and were now waiting their turn to get a room. “Asshole? You bet I am, or can be. Just don’t do anything stupid, rude, or illegal around me—my temper is getting rather short these days.” He finished his mini tirade with, “Americans, hah!”

  James huffed out the front doors, shoving them hard to release some of his pent up anger. He suddenly realized that he was being followed. It was the little old man who had been in the lobby with the frail-looking woman. It was obvious the man wanted to speak with him.

  “We’re not all bad, Americans, that is,” he said as he gently touched James’s arm. “I’m sorry your friend lost her home. It happened to us, too. The policeman said there have been three in the last twenty-four hours. They suspect the arsonists were looking for drugs. My wife has cancer, and we have, or rather had, some very powerful painkillers. The sickos hang around the cancer wards in hospitals and follow the terminally ill patients to their homes. They snatch the drugs, then torch the houses to hide any evidence.” The man shrugged his shoulders and nodded toward his wife. “I lost everything, but I still have her. I hope they’ll let us refill the prescription. They’re real picky about refills. That and they cost so darned much.” He shook his head with disgust, “As if we look like drug addicts… No, it looks like you and your lady friend got lucky. No one was hurt, were they? Oh, I’m sorry; I’m rambling. Don’t let people like him bother you. I’m sure his type are all over the world, and aren’t limited to just the United States.”

  James nodded in acknowledgment. “Thanks for reminding me. Yes, idiots plague the globe. It’s been a rough day for me all around, but neither my friend nor I were hurt, so I guess I shouldn’t complain. I hope it all works out for you, your wife, and her medicine. Good afternoon to you both,” James said, giving him a weak smile in farewell.

  Leah sat in the car and watched her new friend chat with the old man, the back of her head leaned against the side window, a smile radiant on her sun-warmed face. She was content, despite her new and dire—but not hopeless—situation.

  As James got nearer, he saw and returned her smile. It grew to a big grin when he realized how fortunate it was that they were able to share the day’s dramas and surprises with each other. He got in the car and pointed the way. “The room’s just over there, number 123, a basic sequential number… Oh, never mind, I babble when I’m fatigued.”

  Leah pulled up to the parking spot in front of the room and started giggling. “If you carry in your bag, I’ll get everything else, okay?”

  “What? Oh, right. You don’t have anything, do you? Would you like me to carry you? The tarmac has to be hot. If you grab my bag, I think I can handle you.”

  James was enjoying their little repartee. When was the last time he had fun? He couldn’t remember, which brought a serious frown to his brow. Then his smile returned. “Today is the first day of the rest of your life, madam. Would you care to start it by being carried over a threshold?”

  “Oh, my white knight, however should I thank you? I have no more gold or jewels.” Leah batted her eyelashes in an exaggerated coquettish fashion. “Maybe there is something else I can offer?” She burst out laughing at the thought of her overt offer of her body to a gay man. “Yeah, right,” she added. “No, just unlock and open the door. I’ll make a mad dash inside. Here’s your bag.”

  James accepted the valise, walked to the door, and swiped the magnetic keycard. He pushed the handle down, opened the door, and held it back with his outstretched arm. “On your mark, get set, GO!” he called playfully.

  Leah was ready. She opened the car door, dashed across the short span of asphalt and concrete, and pushed
past James, clutching her two smartphones and keys next to her chest. She jumped into the middle of the king-sized bed. “Ooh, nice,” she said.

  James stepped in and let go of the door, allowing it to shut behind him. He set the bag down, and looked around for the reason for her excitement. A pained groan escaped as he stared wide-eyed at the huge bed, the only bed in the room.

  Leah didn’t have to be psychic to see what was going on inside James’s head. “Don’t worry, its fine,” she said.

  His face fell. He knew it did—he didn’t have the energy to mask his feelings. Now he was going to have to go back to that rude desk clerk and either get a different room—one with two beds—or ‘pack up’ and go to another motel.

  She patted the red floral bedspread next to her. “See, it’s fine because as hot as it is today, it won’t make any difference if you hog all the covers. I won’t mind because I won’t need them!”

  James couldn’t help but smile at her lame joke. “But what if I snore?” he asked, continuing the levity with this spunky brunette who for some reason, had graced his life.

  “Why,” she drawled, “don’t you see? That’s why they gave us extra pillows? If you snore just a little loud, I’ll cover my head with my extra pillow. If you snore real loud, I’ll put yours over your head!” She grabbed one of the pillows, threw it at him, and then rolled over, grabbing another polyester-filled projectile.

  James clutched the pillow she had just popped him with, feigned left with it, then right, made a tight spin, and then threw it at her at the end of his little pirouette. Leah batted it away with hers and scooted up next to the headboard. She fluffed it up and put it behind her head, stopping the pillow fight and changing the mood from frivolity to light-hearted practicality. “I want pizza for dinner, if that’s okay with you. I was dreaming of pizza while we were in the pool, and now that’s about all I can think about. Thin crust pizza with tons of pepperoni and a beer. I can get the pizza delivered, but I don’t think they deliver beer. So, do you want pepperoni, or are you a sausage man?” she asked with an impish grin.