Aye, I am a Fairy

by Dani Haviland

  James let out a deep sigh. “Pretty much what you said, except my house didn’t burn down. I just found out—actually, it was with the same phone call as the news about the map and the note—that I’m a single man again. That was the legal mess I had referred to earlier. I thought I was going to lose everything in the divorce, but the justice system performed just that: justice. I took hiatus from my position before I left, the household is set up to take care of itself, trusts are in place for all my assets, and other than verifying that the beneficiary of my will and estate is not her, there aren’t any other incumbencies. I have no next of kin to worry about. My father—or that would be my older brother, wouldn’t it?—is dead.”

  James frowned in recollection. The man really had seemed like a belligerent older brother rather than a parent. He continued, “My real father—the man I grew up loving as my grandfather—is missing, and I presume is back in the 18th century. I think he’s the one who sent the note and map. Lord only knows how he managed that. I know the original letters—remember, we still have to read those—were held in trust and were to be passed down from generation to generation. I believe...”

  James stopped talking, leaned back in the chair, and frowned. “I have to figure out what to call everyone now. Martin, his friends called him Marty, is my father. Bruce, who I thought was my father, was really my brother, actually my half-brother. Okay, from now on, fu…forget fathers and grandfathers: it’s Bruce and Marty, okay?”

  Leah shrugged, trying to hide her uncomfortable grin. “That’s fine with me. I didn’t know them anyway. Using their first names is a lot less confusing to me. At least Bibb is Bibb since you never called her mother.”

  “Well, that’s another kettle of rotten fish, isn’t it?” James said with disgust.

  “I won’t go there, and you shouldn’t either. It doesn’t look like she fits into any of this, so let’s just drop it, okay? I’m a little sensitive about mother-bashing right now. I’m sorry I even brought her up.”

  “Oh, Leah, I’m so sorry. God, it’s just that I never had a mother. How could I ever miss or be sensitive about someone I never knew?”

  Leah held her hand up with the gesture to stop, so he did. She continued, “What about your truck? And how did you get it so quickly? You weren’t even in North Carolina for two hours and had a classic Dodge pickup.”

  “Oh, that. I have an arrangement with Jess Rogers. He lives here in Greensboro. Since I prefer not to use credit cards, I can’t rent a car from the usual rental companies. I buy the truck when I get here, then resell it back to him when I’m ready to leave. Of course, he makes a profit, but I also have reliable transportation as long as I care to stay. However, I didn’t even think about air conditioning and hadn’t realized it got so hot here in the summer. It was quite pleasant last October. So, since you brought it up, do you think Billy would like to have the Dodge? No charge, of course. I like the beast—the truck, that is,” James said with a dip of his brow, making sure with eye contact that she understood that he wasn’t referring to Billy in a romantic way. “I’d like it to have a good home.”

  “I’m sure he’d love that. He’s into classic muscle vehicles and groans every time he has to rent a truck or RV to go camping. He can’t even fit a small tent and ice chest into the back of the ‘Vette. Oh, yeah, lists—I want to start another one. What should we take with us? I don’t know the whole story of Mom, but I know she didn’t go back on purpose, and probably didn’t have anything but the clothes on her back. Oh, and her smartphone, but I digress. What should we take back?”

  James turned the pen over in his hand thoughtfully. “Technology—not necessarily stuff, but the knowledge of how to fabricate needful things.”

  “Ooh, ooh,” Leah exclaimed, bouncing up and down like a five-year-old trying to get the kindergarten teacher’s attention. “I had this book in grade school. Actually, Mom got it for me, and she liked to read it, too. I think it was ‘The Way Things Work’ or something like that. If I still had it, it probably burned up, but I’m sure we can get another one at a bookstore. Hey!” she added, as if she was having rapid-fire brainstorms, “I’ll bet I can download it, too. We can download all sorts of books, and if we have too many, well, memory cards are small and can be discreet. We can even put them in a wallet and have a whole library of information in a little card holder the size of my palm.”

  James tilted his head and winched. “I don’t know about that. I think that’s cheating and messing with the whole great scheme of things…or God’s Plan, or whatever you want to call it. The letter just said to bring the IV tools—if that’s what you would call them—and any other medical items that you deemed fit.”

  “Okay, but how about duct tape? Mom said you could fix anything with duct tape and WD40, but I don’t think I want to take an aerosol can. Did you know you can remove warts with duct tape?”

  “No, and I’m glad I never needed to find out. I’ll concede to the duct tape,” James started writing out his list, “and maybe the one book. But remember, that could be dangerous. People back then were still very superstitious. They were burning witches just a few years earlier. Hey, how about you make a copy of the book with pen and ink so it doesn’t have photographs and color illustrations? It would look like da Vinci’s Codex. That way it wouldn’t be suspicious if it did fall into the wrong hands.” He bent over the list and wrote: pen, ink, paper for Codex copy of Works book.

  James felt Leah’s eyes on him and brought up his head to stare back. It was almost as if she was putting thoughts into his head. “You don’t think,” he asked, his head turning slowly side to side, “that Leonardo da Vinci was a time traveler, do you?”

  “Leonard Vincent was the name of a 20th century time traveling genius according to some theories I’ve heard. I think there are a few science fiction novels out there about him, too. Well, I guess we’ll just have to be more discreet so our Codex is never found. Hmm, what else do we need to take? Food: I have a great recipe for granola. I can throw together a batch with or without an oven. Mom always made it for long trips. It won’t need refrigeration and… Oh, my God, do you know how to hunt? We can’t possibly take enough food for the two of us for even a week.”

  “Yes, I do. Grandpa—I mean, Marty—made sure I knew how to use and maintain rifles and handguns, that I could call and track game, and that I also knew how to clean and prepare what I shot. That was the rule for fishing and hunting: you kill it, you clean it. Of course, we considered it an honor to cook the meat ourselves. It was a good thing, too. Our cook didn’t want to touch it—no way, no how. ‘How disgusting,’ she said. ‘You don’t even know what it’s been eating’. ‘Well, no, I don’t, grand…er, Marty…would reply, but I do know who’ll be eating it!” James paused, then added. “But I don’t have a rifle or a gun. How hard is it to get either one or both of them?”

  “Actually, pretty easy, but I don’t know what the waiting period is, so that’s probably something we should do today. Hey, I’m feeling better. Hand me a bagel and some of that cream cheese, please. It looks like we’re going to have a long afternoon.”

  *17 Apartment Clean Up

  James pushed aside the paperwork and set the table for a light lunch.

  “I think we should go to the apartment and see what state it’s in before we get too carried away,” Leah said between bites of bagel, cream cheese, and strawberry jam. “I know it makes more sense to go get the cleaning supplies first, but I want to go check it out right away. Hey, would you share the last milk with me? I’m not afraid of your germs.”

  James choked back his thoughts before they became full visuals about how he’d rather swap spit with her in another way. He cleared his throat, pushed the carton towards her, and concentrated on what caliber of gun he should buy. A handgun would be the easiest to carry and conceal. Ammunition would be needed, too. Black powder was available in the late 18th century, as was shot, but he needed to make sure he took plenty of brass shell casings and a portable reloading k
it. Great, thinking about guns and ammo was the distraction he needed. She was so sexy, provocative, and desirable, without even trying. Good grief! What would he do if she ever decided to ‘turn it on’? Stifle that thought, Melbourne! Get back to distracting yourself with caliber size and should the gun have a clip or be a revolver.

  Their light lunch finished, the two were ready to take care of old business: Leah’s apartment clean up. Once that was done, they could devote all of their time and energies into preparing for their journey into the past and the semi-known. It wasn’t totally unknown, after all. They did know much about what had happened—or was going to happen—thanks to history books and museums. Optimistically, they would find her mother and whoever—hopefully it was Marty—had sent James the map and the note.

  Ӂ

  The two of them pulled into the apartment complex parking lot and saw several large black plastic bags on Leah’s front porch and her burned-beyond-salvage couch lying sideways on the lawn. Her front door was open, and rock and roll music was blaring from within so loudly that the windows were shuddering. Leah showed no fear as she led the way inside, James following closely behind her. He didn’t know what they were walking into, but robbers didn’t bag up messes and leave them on the lawn, nor did they have loud party music playing as they rousted a place.

  “Hey, there!” Billy called out to them from behind a pile of burned and singed bedding and towels, his hand waving broadly overhead. “Here, let me turn this down.”

  Leah’s bare-chested neighbor slid the volume bar down on the oversized boom box that sat on the floor under the window. “They don’t make them like this anymore, do they? Man, you can actually feel the bass tones!” Billy wiped his hands on the red rag that was stuffed into the front pocket of his cutoff blue jeans. “Hey, how’s it goin’, man?” he said to James.

  James nodded a tacit ‘okay,’ and Billy continued in his hyper, happy mode, “And how’s my sweetheart? Here, give me some sugar.”

  Leah leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on his exaggerated puckered lips, then took a step back to see what he had been up to in her burned-out abode.

  James turned away from the little show and rolled his eyes, not knowing whether he was disgusted, jealous, or amused. It was probably more jealousy, so he decided to give himself a break on the math facts and study the damage to the apartment. That would take just as much concentration.

  The bedroom seemed to have been the first site of attack. All her clothes had been pulled out of the closet and drawers, and thrown onto the bed. The covers were pulled back, and the mattress turned halfway around, as if someone had looked underneath it. Evidently, the thieves had brought a propane torch and can of lighter fluid with them. The clothes were burned where they had been thrown. The bed was charred in places, and had smoldered, but the bedding and clothes were burnt beyond use. The plastic-laminated dresser hadn’t burned, but the arsonists had smashed the drawers and broken the mirror. Too bad for them—they were sure to have at least seven years bad luck for their felonious caper.

  “The kitchen was actually worse,” Billy said, bringing James out of his shock at seeing the wanton destruction. “They were probably mad that they’d gone to all that effort then didn’t find what they wanted. Your car was here, Leah, and you were out of the apartment. That meant to them that it was easy pickings. They didn’t realize that it was a secure pool area, so you would have taken your keys with you. Look, they didn’t even want your jewelry. Here, I bagged it.” Billy handed her a plastic baggie containing earrings, bracelets, and necklaces. “The jewelry box was smashed, probably because they didn’t have your keys. They also did a number on the bathroom. Be careful in those sandals. The mirror broke into a million pieces. Apparently you didn’t have much in there—all they left were some OTC pain killers, ointments, and Band-Aids.”

  Leah ignored the comment, went into the bathroom, opened the linen closet, and peered inside, staring as if she couldn’t remember what she was looking for.

  Billy led James into the combined kitchen/dining/living room area. “Your table is intact,” he called back to Leah. “I guess they didn’t see a need to smash it to see if anything was hidden inside.”

  James looked up and yes, Billy was grinning at his own little nonsense joke. He grinned back. Billy was a nice cop and a nice man—silly, but nice.

  Billy nodded towards Leah as he looked at James, raising his eyebrows, asking wordlessly, ‘Well, did you?’

  James answered him with a scowl and a sharp head shake.

  Billy mouthed, ‘Oh, poor baby.’

  James’s nonverbal reply was a glare and a wide head shake. He wasn’t going to ruin his relationship with her. They were on the right, but narrow, path. The two of them had a chance at a great life ahead of them. He didn’t want to blow it by moving too fast. James kept shaking his head side to side as Billy chortled without noise at the frustration he knew the British import must be experiencing.

  James couldn’t help but return the sentiment, and inadvertently slipped, letting out an audible chuckle.

  A bathroom cabinet door shut with a clap. “What’s going on in there, you two?”

  “Nothing, dear,” they replied in unison, then looked at each other, and laughed out loud.

  “I don’t believe it,” she said dryly, and came into the kitchen, “but I don’t think I want to know, either,” then grinned.

  “That’s for sure,” James said, before he could stop himself. Fool! Quick—change the subject! She probably thinks you meant there ‘was’ something going on that she wouldn’t want to know about.

  “How much of this do you want to keep, Leah?” James asked as he turned to look away from her. Don’t let her see your face. You might be transparent. She might see that there really wasn’t anything going on, that there isn’t—and couldn’t be—any attraction between you and Billy. You don’t want to have to explain, ‘No, I’m not gay—you’re the one who I think is sexy.’ That would ruin this wonderful, blossoming-into-a-field-of-lilies platonic relationship. Okay, so the decimal equivalent of pi is 3.1415926535…

  Billy cleared his throat to get Leah’s attention and spare more embarrassment for James. “Oh, and by the way, sweetie, I called the insurance company for you. Remember that you told me I needed to get renters insurance? Well, I got it last year, and from the same place you got yours. Well, I kind of fibbed and told them that you had asked me to call for you. Since they had to come out and assess the smoke damage to my unit, would they please check on yours at the same time? They’re due here any minute. All they need is a quick look-see and a signature. They said they’d hand us checks on the spot.” Billy’s babbling stopped and his voice turned to one of concern. “Are you okay, honey?”

  James had been listening to their conversation from the other side of the room and rushed to her when he heard the question. He grabbed Leah by the shoulders, turned her to him, and looked deep into her eyes to see what was wrong. They were wide and unblinking, her breathing shallow. She looked as if she was in shock.

  “Come outside with me,” he said, and gathered her close, walking beside her as if they were in a three-legged race without a leg band. He led her into the muggy but fresh noontime air.

  “Billy, would you get her a wet washcloth, please?” he hollered, and then turned his full attention back to Leah. He put his hands on her cheeks and brought her face towards his, locking his eyes onto hers. “Look, you are mine, and I am going to take care of you, no matter what, do you understand?”

  Leah nodded. James wanted to talk to her subconscious before she snapped out of whatever momentary shock she had slipped into and before Billy came out with the cloth. “You are not allowed to freak out or panic or worry about anything. You are mine, and I am going to take care of you. Now, say it.”

  “I am yours, and you will take care of me,” she said, still in a daze. “I am yours, and you will…” The last part of her mantra was muffled into James’s chest as he grabbed her to him when Bill
y came outside with the washcloth.

  “It took a minute to find one that wasn’t all sooty. Is she going to be okay?” he asked, as he placed the cloth into James’s hand.

  “She’ll be fine. She is mine, and I am going to take care of her,” he declared to himself and to Billy. He smiled as he pulled away from her, gently pushing aside her hair so he could place the damp white terrycloth on her brow.

  Billy grinned. He knew it was true—his gut told him so. He was happy about it, too. “Can I be the best man?” he asked lightheartedly.

  “Sure,” Leah said dreamily. “You can be the maid of honor, too.”

  “No, I’ll settle for best man, but I just might wear pink lace panties for the occasion,” he joked. “Now, on a serious note…” Billy looked at James to see if they should continue on the serious note. James nodded his head. The two of them weren’t psychic, but when it came to taking care of her needs, they were both on the same wavelength.

  Before Billy could say anything else, though, Leah started in, her slow-witted, stalled speech quickly accelerating with each new thought, finally ending with a fast-paced repartee. “Everything material I care about is in the safe. I’d like to take it back to the motel and look through it there. After I do that, Billy, would you keep it for me? Oh, and I’ll need another drivers license since my purse probably burned in the fire. And I want to get a gun—no, two guns. I don’t think James can have one, but I can have two, can’t I? And when is that insurance person coming? I’m thirsty, can I get a drink?”