The Floating Room

by Brian Olsen

  The fairy nods, so Tannyl gently cups his body in his hands and lifts him up where we all can see him.

  “Oh!” Alisa spins in place, taking in the whole scene. “Look!”

  There are fairies everywhere, all over the meadow. They’re lying in the grass, glowing weakly. None are moving.

  “It is this place,” the fairy says. “All pure fairies were sent to this false world. We are cut off from the fay, and it is killing us.”

  Tannyl mutters something under his breath in a tone that makes me think it’s an Elvish swear. “I am sorry, friend fairy. The human logomancers did this. They cast all magical creatures, elves as well, into these false worlds. They did so with good intentions, to protect us from their monstrous monarch. But they did not think through the consequences.”

  The fairy manages a laugh. “How funny! They should have asked us to help.”

  “They should have asked us all.” Tannyl looks up at us. “The fay is the source of the fairies’ magic, and without that magic, it would appear they cannot survive.”

  “We have to get them out of here,” I say. “Now.”

  Zane leans in. “Hey, fairy…uh, what’s your name?”

  “Gildglass.”

  “Gildglass. Hey. I’m Zane. How many fairies are here?”

  “All of us.”

  “Yeah. How many is that?”

  “You wish information?” Gildglass sits up a little in Tannyl’s hands, supporting himself on one elbow. “What do you offer in trade for it?”

  Zane narrows his eyes. “We’re trying to save your lives, you little ass. You really gonna pull your fairy bargaining schtick?”

  The fairy laughs again. “It’s my nature! But your point is made. There are three hundred thousand four hundred and two true fairies in this realm. As I said, all of us.”

  Zane whistles. “Three hundred thousand fairies. Geez.”

  “Three hundred thousand four hundred and two,” Gildglass corrects.

  “Yeah.” Zane stands up straight. “I know they’re small but I don’t think they’re gonna fit in our hotel room.”

  “We’ll have to find someplace for them,” Alisa says. “Someplace safe.”

  “Does it matter?” Nate asks. “Why not let them out now, a few at a time? It’s not like they’re going to stay. We let them go, they zip off to fairyland, right?”

  Tannyl clears his throat. “Please take no offense at this, friend Gildglass, but as I told my friends before, fairies enjoy new situations.”

  Gildglass tilts his head. “Why would I take offense at that?”

  “The world outside is not as you knew it. The logomancers changed our past to remove knowledge of the world as it was. Humans dominate now, and they do not know of the peoples of magic. You would be curious about this world, would you not?”

  The fairy’s eyes widen. “Oh, yes! That sounds exciting! Please release us somewhere with many humans to meet!”

  “Ah.” Nate grimaces. “I get ya.”

  “I did not anticipate their sickness,” Tannyl says. “I thought we would have time to find a solution safe for fairies and for humans, as we do with my people.”

  Alisa taps her chin. “If we put them somewhere isolated, they can flit back and forth between our world and the fay with less chance of disturbing anyone.”

  “They are not bound to one place,” Tannyl points out. “They can roam where they please.”

  “But they are bound to one place.” I gesture around us. “This one. If they stay in our world, they’ll keep getting sucked back into the painting.”

  “Exactly,” Alisa says.

  Tannyl furrows his brow, then nods. “If it is like the pull into the necklace that I have felt, they would have time to return to safety in fairyland, but not enough time to travel far from the painting. Yes, I agree with Alisa’s plan. We should place the painting somewhere remote, and then free all the fairies.”

  “But where?” Zane asks. “I mean, we can probably find a forest or something somewhere nearby, but we don’t know this country. We might drop them in the middle of England’s favorite hiking spot.”

  “How long have we got?” Nate cups his mouth around his hand and whispers, “How long before the fairies start to…you know?”

  “Friend Gildglass, have any…” Tannyl lifts his hand higher. “Friend Gildglass?”

  The fairy fell prone while we were talking, and his eyes are closed.

  “Is he…?” Alisa asks.

  “He glows, though faintly,” Tannyl says. “That means he yet lives. Gildglass? Can you hear me?”

  Gildglass opens his eyes, then blinks and yawns. “I’m sorry. It’s difficult for us to stay awake.”

  “Have any of your kind been lost?” Tannyl asks.

  The fairy shakes his head. “We are weakened, but none have died.”

  “How long have you got, little buddy?” Nate asks. “How long can you hang on?”

  “Not long.” Gildglass coughs. “It is hard to judge time here, but the weakest of us will lose their light in perhaps a day.”

  “A day.” Nate nods. “Okay. I got an idea. The Rocks.”

  “The Rocks?” Zane curls his lip. “Really?”

  “What rocks do you speak of?” Tannyl asks.

  “It’s a hangout spot for kids in the woods outside Charlesville,” Alisa explains. “I’ve never been there.”

  “I have,” Zane says. “There’s a bunch of rocks big enough to sit on. Nobody goes there—”

  “Exactly!” Nate says.

  “—except,” Zane continues, “for kids who want to drink without getting caught.”

  “Right!” Nate smiles. “Look, there’s nowhere we can put the painting where we can be sure that no people are ever gonna stumble across it. Chris could drop it off on top of Mount Everest and the fairies would be making creepy bargains with every Sherpa they meet. If we put it someplace close to Charlesville, we can keep an eye on things.”

  “But the Rocks?” Zane asks. “I don’t want my drunk friends selling their souls or whatever.”

  Nate shrugs. “So not right at the Rocks. We go further into the woods from there. If people see the fairy lights they’ll blame it on the booze.”

  “Isn’t there a spot near there that’s hard to get to?” I ask. “There’s like a little ravine or something. You can’t get around it unless you go all the way out to the highway and back.”

  Zane nudges me, smiling. “I didn’t know you’d been to the Rocks, golden boy.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I’m not so golden all the time.”

  I don’t mention that I went there once, during the day, to collect beer bottles for a recycling drive.

  Alisa nods. “That sounds good. It doesn’t have to be a permanent solution. Just someplace we can safely let the fairies out so they can recharge in the fay, or whatever they need to do.”

  Tannyl puts the fairy back in the grass. “Stay strong, friend Gildglass. We shall free you from this place before another day has passed.”

  The fairy tries to say something, but only manages to cough. He lays his head back and closes his eyes.

  I look down at the motionless fairy. “It doesn’t feel right leaving them here like this.”

  Zane takes my hand. “It’s only until you can get us home.”

  Nate takes my other hand, and then Alisa and Tannyl join the circle.

  “Book,” I say. “Let us out.”

  The meadow twists around us. The colors grow more vibrant and resolve back into the painting, which recedes until the five of us are back in the room, standing around the bed.

  Jasmine sits bolt upright. “I’m awake!” She swings her legs off the other bed. “I’m awake! That was fast. Was it fast?” She looks at the clock on the nightstand. “That was fast!” She leans right and left, looking past us, and pouts. “No fairies?”

  Nate kneels on the bed and takes her hands. “You’re gonna see tons of fairies when we get home tomorrow, babe. Three hundred thousand of them
!”

  “Three hundred thousand four hundred and two,” Alisa says.

  “Right!” Nate bounces on the bed a couple of times. “Work’s done and it’s only ten o’clock. Who wants to see what kind of trouble five American teens and an elf can get up to in London on a Friday night?”

  Twenty

  Turns out the answer to Nate’s question about how much trouble we could get into is, “Not much.”

  Nate kicks the door of the hotel elevator. “Stupid bartenders. Tannyl’s eighteen! That’s legal here!”

  Tannyl nods. “Indeed. I am sorry I could not provide the identification he requested.”

  The elevator door opens onto our floor. We file out and head for the room.

  “I don’t care that we couldn’t drink,” Alisa says. “I’m happy we got in at all. The drag show was fun.”

  Jasmine bounces ahead of us. “I loved it. They were so dirty!”

  “I guess it was fun.” Zane shoves his hands in his pockets. “I wanted a real English pint, though.”

  I nudge him. “We’ll come back.”

  He leans in and whispers, “You still owe me a date night. This triple date doesn’t count.”

  We stop outside the door. Jasmine fishes in her purse for the room key.

  “Who gets the beds?” Alisa asks. “Should we call down for a cot? I’m exhausted.”

  “Everybody gets a bed!” Jasmine grins and produces three keys from her purse. “I got us all rooms.” She hands one key to Alisa and another to me.

  “Wait, what?” I say. “Jasmine, you got three rooms?”

  Nate grins and takes the last room key from her. “My idea. You’re welcome. Enjoy your romantic night in London!”

  He slides the key into the slot and opens the door, pulling Jasmine in after him.

  “Good night, guys!” she says. “That was so much fun! We’ll meet you in the lobby for breakfast.”

  Nate yanks her inside and kicks the door shut, leaving the four of us in the hall.

  I look at the key Jasmine gave me. It’s two doors down.

  Alisa looks at Tannyl, who is pretending to be engrossed in the wallpaper pattern. “Um.” She looks at me, her eyes wide.

  I know what I should do. I should brightly suggest that she and I room together, and Zane and Tannyl room together, as if it’s so obvious that there’s no other possible option. She’s still sorting out her feelings for Tannyl, and I know she’d appreciate an excuse to avoid the awkwardness of spending the night together alone.

  But I’ve just been given the opportunity to spend a night in a fancy hotel room with my new, hot boyfriend.

  I’m a terrible person.

  “All right!” I say. “Goodnight, you two! See you in the morning!”

  Zane grabs my hand. “Yup! Sleep well!”

  “Oh.” Alisa opens her eyes wide at me, then darts them towards Tannyl. “I thought maybe—”

  Zane pulls me towards our door. “You kids have fun!”

  I open the door and we hurry in. Zane closes the door, then leans against it. He’s laughing.

  “Stop.” I put a hand on the door handle. “I feel rotten. We should switch rooms. Shouldn’t we?”

  “Nah.” He takes my hand off the door and puts his arms around my neck. “This’ll give them a chance to talk things through. We’re doing them a favor, if you really think about it.”

  “I don’t think Alisa will see it that way.”

  “She’ll be fine. There are two beds and Tannyl’s a good guy.” He kisses me, then moves on into the room. He pulls his shoes off and tosses them into the corner. “This is so killer. I’m not even thinking about how mad my mom is gonna be at me tomorrow.”

  He pulls open the curtains and I join him at the window. The view is a little disappointing, just the hotel across the street, but still. It’s a hotel in London, far, far away from Charlesville, Connecticut. I put my arms around him and kiss his neck. He turns and kisses me back. We stumble together back towards the bed and fall into it.

  “Wait, wait, wait.” I break away and shift back a little. “I don’t…I mean, I wasn’t really prepared for this tonight…”

  “Oh, right!” He half-stands and reaches into his pocket, then throws a handful of brightly colored plastic squares on the bed. “They had a bowl of condoms on the bar so I grabbed some. Just in case.”

  I run my hand across the small packages and laugh. There must be a dozen. “You’ve got quite a night planned! Should we order some coffee?”

  He blushes and folds his legs underneath him. “I shoved my fist in the bowl and took what I got. I don’t know. I haven’t been with a guy before. Sorry I don’t have your experience, golden boy.”

  My smile fades. “I’ve only been with two guys before, and one of those was only one time. You don’t have to make it sound like I’m getting passed around the football team.”

  He looks up at me in surprise. “No! No, I didn’t mean that.” He slides forward, sending the condoms bouncing. “I’m sorry.”

  He tries to kiss me again, but I pull away. I stand up and move back to the window.

  “Shit.” He leans back on his hands. “You’re not really mad, are you?”

  “No.” I turn back to him. “I don’t like when you call me ‘golden boy.’”

  He furrows his brow. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

  “You only say it when you’re teasing me or when you’re annoyed or something. It reminds me of when we were kids.”

  “Oh.” He shrugs. “Okay. I won’t call you that anymore.” He pats the bed. “Are we good?”

  I groan and charge past the beds and into the bathroom. I close the door hard enough to almost but not quite slam it, then lean over the sink and look into the mirror.

  “What?” he calls out. “Why are you so mad all of a sudden? I thought we were having a good night.”

  I turn the water on. Both taps. If he’s saying anything else, I can’t hear it.

  I take a breath.

  I’m being dumb. I don’t even know why I’m angry. But he should know, and the fact that he doesn’t is making me madder.

  That doesn’t make any sense but I don’t care.

  He knocks roughly. “Chris?”

  I turn the water off and open the door.

  He’s so hot. His eyes are a beautiful dark green, and they’re deep-set giving him this natural smoky eye. Like they’re shining out from shadow. And he’s all stubbly. And muscled. His school clothes are wrinkled and messy. Mine are too, but on him it looks good.

  I want to forget about being mad and just go to bed with him, and I probably would if he didn’t look annoyed. Why is he annoyed? He should be filled with loving concern.

  “Can you get out of my way, please?” I say.

  He steps aside and I walk to the nearer bed, the one without the rainbow of condom packages, and sit down.

  He stands at the bathroom door for a second, then walks past me and sits on the other bed.

  “Why are you mad at me?”

  I take a breath. “I’m not.”

  “Seems like you are.”

  “I’m not sure I want to sleep with you.”

  “Oh.” He smiles. “Oh! Is that all?” He bounces up from his bed and sits next to me on mine, taking my hand. “That’s fine! Oh, geez. That’s totally fine! We don’t have to do this tonight! We haven’t had our first real date yet. Oh, damn, I thought it was something bad.”

  I take my hand out of his, gently. “I’m saying this all wrong. I do want to sleep with you. I really, really want to.”

  “Oh.” He scoots away, just a little. “Okay. I’m confused again.”

  “But I don’t think I should want to.”

  We sit in silence for a second.

  “Do you want me to keep apologizing?” His tone is measured, but not defensive. “I will.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to go over everything? Every last terrible thing I ever did to you, and to Nate? We can do that
. We can get everything out. We can spend all night doing that. We can spend however long it takes. And I can do it with Nate, too, if you want. If he wants. And if you don’t want us to be together after all that, I won’t argue with you.”

  “Or?” I say.

  He blinks. “Or what?”

  “We can do that, or…? It sounded like there was an ‘or.’”

  “That’s up to you, I guess.” He puts his hand out to take mine again, but catches himself and pulls back. “I wanna be your boyfriend, Chris. But you’ve got all the power here. I was a total shit to you and Nate. And other kids, too. We haven’t even talked about all the other kids I bullied. I can give you reasons, if you want. I’ve thought about this a lot. I can tell you everything I figured out with the therapist my mom made me go to after she and my dad split up. I can tell you about how I felt insecure because my dad used to blame his crappy life on me, and that made me feel weak and useless, and I didn’t want to feel that way at school so I looked for easy targets to make sure there was at least one place where I was the strong one.” He rubs his palms on his pants. “But it wouldn’t fix anything. You were bullied, I was your bully. I can’t change that. Whatever you need, I’ll do, but if you can’t be with me because of what I did, I can’t blame you.” He grabs a pillow and holds it in his lap, twisting the case in his hands. “I’m sorry I thought you were past it all. I guess I wanted you to be, so I wouldn’t have to keep thinking about how much of an asshole I can be.”

  I trace a circle on the bedspread with my finger.

  “Am I being a hypocrite?” I ask finally.

  “No.” He tilts his head. “How?”

  “Because of the Moment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m blaming you for things we remember you doing, but never actually happened. And I’m expecting you not to blame me for things we don’t remember me doing, but did actually happen.”

  He smiles. “No. It’s our memories that make us who we are, right? However we got them. I’m not too hung up on the details.”

  I tap his ankle. “You’re smart.”

  “Tell that to my teachers.”

  He slides his foot a little closer to me.

  “I do, too,” I say.