Aye, I am a Fairy

by Dani Haviland

  “That’s my big sister, and I don’t know who those men are. Nobody told me yet, but I think the smaller one is the son, and the other one is the father, or maybe they’re just brothers, but the big one looks a lot older than the other one, and I think the big one was sick ‘cause my new big sister was hollerin’ at him somethin’ fierce because he didn’t do what she told him to, and she was real mad and told him to lie down and…”

  I had awakened when Jody spoke, and grinned as Jenny rambled her report on the afternoon’s events. She was correct, and probably would have added that she now had a brother-in-law, too, but Jody cut her short.

  I took the break as an opportunity to get up and check out the results of our unconventional medical procedures. “Wow, you look great! How do you feel, and how’s Sarah?”

  I rushed up the steps and almost collided with her. Her head down, she was running her fingers through her curly hair, trying to bring it into some sort of order. I could have sworn she was trying to suppress that undeniable post-coital grin, too. At least, that’s what it looked like to me.

  “Oh, I see Sarah’s fine,” I said softly, looking away from her and Jody.

  I was embarrassed that I had recognized their very satisfied smiles. I’d have to remember to talk to her about the enhanced fertility I had as a result of my dosage. I squinted at her, looking for changes. She did look a bit younger—maybe only a few years—but I still wanted to warn her.

  She strolled over to Jody and held onto his arm, looked up, and smiled at him. Her husband, her hero, was back—better than ever.

  “Gee, face lift in a bottle, I see?” I said to the both of them. Sarah blushed, and Jody lifted his eyebrows in a non-verbal question of ‘Am I supposed to know what that means?’ I shrugged my shoulders and explained, “Sarah or I will tell you later,” then looked over at the slumbering herd to change the subject.

  Leah had heard our voices and started to sit up. “Oops.” She had forgotten she had her two-month-old sister asleep on her chest.

  “If she’s dry, yank off her clout—diaper, that is—real quick. She always pees just after she wakes up. Hold her over the far edge of the bushes. But not on the bushes!”

  I didn’t want to wash any more clouts than I had to. Potty training was going to start very early for my kids if they were predictable in their peeing and pooping. I had designated a little ‘cat box’ area for quick drips and deposits. When the dirt started stinking, Wallace dug it up, tossed it in a bucket, and hauled it to the privy. We’d have to deal with the messes in the confines of a winter cabin soon enough. For now, the ‘drop box’ worked when I caught the babies at just the right moment.

  I turned my attention back to my brother/father-in-law. “Jody, do you remember anything about what happened just before you went to sleep? Or you, Sarah—how’s your memory?” I wanted to know if memory loss was a side effect, and if so, how extensive. I was the only one with a history of using the elixir and I didn’t remember much. Shoot, I didn’t remember anything. I had a full-blown case of amnesia.

  “I think I remember everything,” said Sarah. “I remember you gave me two drops of…of…anyway, two drops, and then I felt sleepy and woke up feeling great.”

  I looked at Jody for his answer. “I remember thinkin’ I was gonna die. There was lots of prayin’ and singin’ and everyone seemed happy. I thought I was in heaven. The angels were singin’ a song about miracles. But it couldna have been heaven because then someone was pokin’ needles in me. No, not someone—that was Sarah.”

  Sarah smiled sheepishly, but didn’t say anything. She, too, wanted to know how much he remembered.

  “I think ye gave me somethin’, and then I felt good enough to sleep. At least, I dinna feel like I had to stay awake so I dinna die.” He shook his head in recall. “That is such a terrible feelin’. I dinna want to leave all of ye. But the lass, she…she… Sarah, did ye stick her with a pin, too?”

  “Yes, I did, and then I stuck a tube on the end of both of the hollow needles—not pins—and she gave you enough blood to live. And then, well, Evie did something else that we don’t want to talk about right now,” Sarah looked over at Jenny as she spoke, “and then you and I took a nap, and then you…um…woke up and felt…um…fine, and here we are, right?”

  I could tell by her nervousness that I was correct. She and Jody had a very nice time waking up together. Well, they deserved it. I was glad I had stayed outside!

  Jody spoke out proudly. “Aye, I feel verra fine, and I’m glad to be alive. And it looks like even more of my kin have come around. Hopefully they dinna come fer my funeral and I disappointed them. When did Ian get here, and is this his lad, Wee Ian?”

  “Aye, I’m Wee Ian, and ye must be my great-uncle, Jody,” Wee Ian nodded in greeting. “And here comes Wallace and James. James is a fairy. Oh, I dinna ken if I was supposed to tell ye that. But he kens it.”

  “Well, I appreciate ye tellin’ me,” Jody said softly to Wee Ian. He turned and addressed Leah boldly, “And who’s this fine young lady holdin’ my granddaughter?”

  “Oh, I’m another granddaughter. I came a long way to get here.” Leah stressed the words and saw Jody’s eyes light up in recognition of the fact that long way really meant long time journey.

  “So yer Leah, eh?” Jody asked, wide-eyed and smiling.

  Leah nodded and Jenny popped in, “How did you know her name, Grandpa?”

  “Weel,” he said, as he brought his hand to his jaw and rubbed the copper stubble, “She looks like a Leah to me. Dinna ye think so, too?”

  “Yup. Leah, Pee-ah, Wee-ah,” Jenny sang, and danced to her new little song. “My sister’s name is Leah, Pee-ah, Wee-ah.”

  “Good grief,” Leah said, “I thought I was done with that in kindergarten. Oh, well, at least she isn’t calling me by my first name.”

  Jenny had heard her and stopped singing. “What’s your first name? I can make a song out of that, too.”

  “It’s Audie,” James said, as he walked up to the group followed by Wallace and Julian. “Hi, I’m James Melbourne, Audie Leah’s husband. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, sir.”

  “Not half as glad as I am to be feelin’ better. And please dinna be callin’ me sir. I’m not a British lord or anythin’.”

  Julian started laughing at his remark, then Wallace joined in. James couldn’t help but chuckle, too, and then when Leah realized what they were laughing about, she began giggling, too.

  “Okay, now why is that so funny?” Jody asked, pretending to be irritated.

  James nodded to Wallace who nodded to Julian who answered for all of them. “Well, you see, James here is—or at least, he was a few days ago—a British lord. Looks like whenever any decent British lord gets near you, Jody Pomeroy, he decides to become an American.”

  “Weel, if this man is the husband of my granddaughter, then I’m glad to see that he was smart enough to come over to the American side. Ye werena a soldier, were ye?”

  “No, sir,” James replied, shifting his eyes, hoping that Jody would remember when he came from, “there was no fighting…um…near me, at least…when I left.”

  “Uh…oh,” Jody stuttered with realization, “Sorry, I dinna mean to be gettin’ personal there. Weel, somethin’ smells good. Jenny, wasna it yer night to fix dinner?” he teased.

  “Ooh, ooh. I mean, yes, Grandpa. Mommy, the sauce is ready, and now we need to cook the noodles. Do I need to cut anything else?”

  “No, dear. You and that knife… You be careful with it, you hear. Now, go put it back inside for now. Gather all the plates and bowls you can find. We’ll have some of these big strong men put together some timbers for a table. I think we’ll have a Thanksgiving dinner of spaghetti and salad: a fine Scottish-American meal.”

  ***61 A New Name

  Wee Ian finished brushing, feeding, and watering the nag that had carried his father to Uncle Jody’s. It had been a long trip for all of them. There was no doubt in his mind that his father would
have headed to Uncle Jody’s house, with or without his help. At first, he had hidden the horse from him and said she had strayed, that he couldn’t find her. He knew his father didn’t believe him, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he reached into the framework of the shelter above him, and tugged and pushed at a sturdy piece of branch, working it free to use as a crutch. He ran his hand down its length, checking it for cracks or breaks, tore off the small branches protruding from it, then speared the ground, clutching at the middle of the staff, working his way up, hand over hand, struggling against gravity and his body’s weakness to get up to a standing position.

  “Wait! I think I ken where to find her,” the son squeaked in desperation. “And I’ll help ye get on her, too.” He glowered, then huffed in resignation, “At least it’ll be easier on ye than walking.”

  Before he went for the horse, though, he tried one more time to convince his father to stay, “Why canna ye jest wait fer two or three more days until yer healed?”

  Ian didn’t answer his question with words, but glared in response at the suggestion. He didn’t want to talk. He needed to save his breath and his strength for the trip to his uncle’s house. No one else in the world—at least, in the American colonies—had cashews. It had to be Evie—or her fairy twin—who had come to help him. Could there really be two of them? Could this woman who Wee Ian had said tended to his wounds be the mysterious Danny? He had to know and was willing to die trying to find out.

  Getting his father on the horse was the easy part. Keeping him on her was the real challenge. He was still weak from his injuries and had trouble staying mounted. The wounds to his manly parts were painful to sit on, so he assumed an awkward, tilted position. Wee Ian didn’t have the luxury of simply walking beside his father and the horse for the trip—he had to run from one side of the pair to the other, shoving his father back into an upright position—or catching him before he hit the ground as he slid from the old mare’s bare back.

  Wee Ian stumbled out of the barn and stretched his spine like an old man, one arm in the air, the other on his tender lower back. He looked up and saw his father asleep at the base of the big tree in front of the house and shook his head. His father’s stubbornness had got him here alive, but there was no telling how much life was left in him. He walked over to him, dropped his rucksack, and plopped down on the ground next to the pale and winded shell of a man. Wee Ian was tired, but afraid to fall asleep. His father might not be alive when he woke up. The lad bit his bottom lip and tried not to think about what his future would be if his father died.

  ӁӁӁ

  I looked out and saw the Kincaid men under the tree. I told Leah to stay put. I’d take over the nursing duties and see how Ian was doing. I wanted her and James to conserve their strength.

  I didn’t know if my recent high energy level was because my body had finally healed or because I was so happy that I had so many family members around. But either way, I felt like a superhero. I was ready to tend to the infirm, counsel the sad, feed the hungry, and change the poopy. I could take care of everyone and everything today.

  We still had at least forty-five minutes to wait until dinner was ready—a watched pot never boils and all that nonsense. While the kettle was getting up to temperature, Jenny helped me get the babies to sleep. It was one of those glorious times when all of them were down at the same time. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want me to do?” she begged.

  “No, no, I’m fine. Why don’t you go outside and play?”

  “All right,” she said dejectedly. She looked around and saw that there were now two people under the tree. She walked up confidently to the small one.

  “Who are you?” she asked brightly of the young boy with the sad and dirty face. “I’ve never seen you before.”

  “Weel, I’ve never seen ye either, so we’re even,” he said tartly. He was concerned about what he would do if his father died, and didn’t feel too friendly, especially to a girl.

  I overheard the two of them as I walked up to check on my ex-husband, Ian. “I think your da is going to be fine,” I told Wee Ian as I brushed the dark brown hair out of his eyes. He looked so much like his father. “I gave him some very good medicine, and I’ll bet you won’t even know that he’d been hurt after he wakes up. But he needs to sleep now. Why don’t you and Jenny go over to the water trough and wash up? And make sure you don’t get any soap in it. Use the little bucket for the soapy water, all right?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, and reluctantly scooted away from his father’s side.

  “Yes, Mommy,” Jenny sang as she bounced around the tree, waiting for the young boy to get up so she could go with him.

  Jenny skipped to the barn and Wee Ian trudged along behind her. He was sad and scared. Evie told him that his father would be fine, but even though she thought she was right, and he wanted to believe her, he couldn’t.

  Ever since he had met his father several moons ago, he looked as if he was dying a wee bit at a time. One more accident or fight, and he would be dead. And if his father died, then where would he go? His mother’s husband made it clear that he didn’t want him around their house, or even their village. His grandmother was dead, which was why he was now with Star Walker. Ian Kincaid was his name when they were with the white man, he reminded himself. He liked being here with Evie, Wallace, and the bairns, but all of a sudden, there seemed to be too many people around. And now there was this obnoxious wee lass, dancing around him, blabbering all the time. Yes, if his father died, he’d like to live with his little brothers and sister, Evie, and Wallace, but he hoped the little yellow-haired girl had someplace else to go. She was already annoying him, and he hadn’t even been here an hour.

  “So what’s your name?” she asked. “I don’t know who you are except that sick man under the tree is your father, huh? My mother said he’s gonna get better, so he will. She doesn’t lie to me or anyone else. Do you know her?”

  “Do ye ever shut up?” he asked, then dunked his head into the horse trough.

  She waited until his head was out of the water. “I just shut up, but you didn’t hear it because your head was underwater. Why won’t you tell me your name and why do you talk funny? You sound like my Grandpa. That’s my Grandpa Jody, not my Grandpa Julian. They both talk English, but they don’t sound the same. My Mommy speaks English, too, but it sounds even different from them, and she’s gonna teach me to read and write. Can you read and write?” Jenny paused for a breath. She looked at him, waiting for him to answer at least one of her questions.

  Wee Ian turned and looked toward his father again. All of a sudden, his stomach hurt. The thought of being alone was like a dirk in his wame. He clutched his gut and walked into the barn, head down, the emotions of fear and depression battling for dominance within him.

  Once his eyes adjusted, he took in his surroundings. The floor was swept, there was fresh straw laid out in the stalls and—he inhaled deeply—it smelled of leather and hay. It was also cooler in here than outside. A simple, yet glorious refuge.

  “Aah,” he sighed, reveling in the first sense of peace he had had in ages. The straw looked so inviting. Evie had told him he would have to let his father sleep. Well, if Da had to sleep, he’d take a nap, too. He found a shady spot, kicked the straw to make sure there weren’t any varmints in it, and then lay down. He would only sleep for a wee bit. Just a few minutes for a rest, then he’d go check on his father. Evie was a good woman and Leah a good healer, but Da was his responsibility

  Jenny watched the boy go into the barn. She wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t look like he felt too good. She washed her face and hands, making sure she didn’t get soap in the water. Her father had said it gave the horses a bellyache if they drank soapy water, so she was extra careful. She didn’t want to hurt a horse, but really didn’t want to make Daddy mad. She had seen him mad the day her other brothers had died, and that was real scary. She knew he would never get that mad at her, but she could also tell that he didn’t l
ike getting mad. He had cried and cried after he got angry and beat up that other man. But that might have been because her brother had just been killed. He was sad about that just like she was, even though the two of them didn’t used to like each other.

  Jenny sighed. Thinking about her brothers dying made her sad again. She tried not to think about them because she couldn’t do anything about it. Mommy had said that when God took someone away from the earth, it was because He needed them up in heaven. And when God took her brothers, He made sure that He gave her a Mommy and Daddy, two more brothers, and a little sister, too. Jenny walked over to the barn, still sad, and looked inside. The little boy was asleep in the corner. He had been sad, too. He looked real lonely. She’d go over and hold him like her Daddy held her when she felt that way—that should make both of them feel better.

  Jenny took one step onto the straw pile and Wee Ian popped up into a crouch, his dirk pulled, ready to defend himself.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jenny squealed, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to make you feel better.” She wanted to say more, but remembered the boy had said she talked too much. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and stared at him, waiting to see what would happen next.

  “Ye dinna scare me,” he said defensively. He looked hard at her, then realized that she was the one who was frightened. At least, she wasn’t blabbering. “Are ye all right, lass?” he asked. He did need to use good manners, even if she was just a girl.

  Jenny really was afraid. No one had drawn a knife on her since those bad men at the mill had threatened to cut off her clothes. Knives didn’t scare her. She liked cutting with them. Men with knives scared her, though.

  The young girl stood in front of him, arms slack at her side, paralyzed, staring at his dirk. Since she hadn’t say a word, she must be terrified. “I wouldna hurt ye with it,” he said. “Honest.”