by Jo Michaels
*****
Later that afternoon, a group of flying, sparkly, laughing sprites brought us dinner. Mine was flown in by six, Hyacant’s was delivered by one. That fairy hovered near the cage, and the two had a quiet conversation before the delivery girls left.
I ate in silence.
When darkness fell, and I was about to let the stress lure me into dreamland, shuffling reached my ears, pulling me back from the quagmire. My head cocked to one side, and I strained to decipher the direction of the noise.
“Do not speak.” Bastion’s face was on the other side of the bars.
Scrambling backward, I again smacked my head.
He chortled. “You are a funny human. I have brought this.” From his raised hand dangled a ring with no less than fifteen keys on it.
I scooted closer and put my face between the rungs. “So, you’re here to rescue me?” Inside, I swooned. Here was the handsome guy with the keys to my freedom. What thirteen-year-old girl doesn’t dream of the day that happens?
A nod was the only answer I got.
Hiding my elation at being rescued by a total stud as best I could, I went for authoritative. “I’m not leaving without her.” My head inclined toward my fairy friend.
“I thought so.” He unlocked my cage and helped me out—his hand sending tingles through me when it connected with my own—before releasing Hyacant.
She fluttered in his face and kissed the tip of his nose.
I wished I could do that; but the fear of passing out when my lips touched any part of that man fairy stayed my feet. It wasn’t love, but he sure was pretty to look at.
Hyacant flitted over and landed on my shoulder, her face a brilliant shade of crimson.
Giving her a smile, I turned to Bastion. “What do we do now? Did you ever tell your boss what was going on?”
“I… No. I did not want him to fly into a rage. I will rescue the both of you and set everything okay.”
Hyacant piped up. “Pretty Bastion, we want to rescue all the children from the fairy fields and stop stealing them. Shirley has some very good ideas to help us continue to exist.”
He glanced at me—causing my face to get hot all over again—and lifted his eyebrows.
“Well, I thought that… You see… Kidnapping children is just wrong in so many ways!”
“Go on,” he said.
“I think you could still have children believe in you all, and keep their childish wonder intact, without stealing them from their parents.” It came out in a rush and I was almost panting by the time I finished my short spiel.
“How might we do that?”
A huge rush of air left my lungs, and I flapped my arms in frustration. “By being good. Making people happy? Keeping the old ‘can you believe I saw a fairy’ thing going? Books? Stories? I don’t know! I’m just a kid! But anything is better than stealing babies!”
His lip twitched. “Do you understand why we keep the children here?”
“No. I don’t. It’s cruel to them and the families they left behind.”
“Cruel?”
Thick was the only word I could think of to describe him. Uninformed is the word I should’ve used. My hands slapped my thighs again. “Don’t you feel anything?”
“Of course I do. We all do.”
“Have any of you sat down and thought about the moms and dads who were left behind? Their children ripped away from them. On Christmas morning, no less!” I was on a roll, and didn’t stop there. “You steal babies! Crush families! On one of the days that’s supposed to be the happiest of the year. I can’t imagine what my own parents must be going through—and I’m twice the age of some of these little ones.” My voice started to give, and my heart hurt like someone was lancing it with a needle. Eyes I’d determined to keep dry got hot as the tears built. “I miss them so much. It’s only been a day, and I’m so scared I’ll never see them again.”
“But we give them the dust.”
“But we give them the dust.” I mocked him in a nasty tone. “That dust is a drug that numbs their senses. You’re no better than a crack dealer!” Tears were flowing by that point, but it didn’t keep me from letting the accusations fly. “Have you ever seen them with it starts to wear off? They’re pitiful. All they do is cry for their parents.” All the fight rushed out of me, only to be replaced by a fifty ton weight around my heart. I wrapped my arms around my middle to try and hold myself together.
Bastion’s eyes darkened and he stared at the floor. “I never thought…”
On my shoulder, Hyacant gave a sniffle. I looked over to find my shirt drenched by her tears. Glitter clung to the fabric everywhere. She put her little hand up on my cheek. “Forgive us?”
With a mind of their own, my lips lifted at the corners. “I know you were only doing what you were told. Of course I do. But I can never forgive Remenditia. We need to fix it.”
We stayed that way for a moment, until Bastion cleared his throat and spoke. “There is no way we can allow this to continue. I need to speak with him.”
“Gunnar?”
“Shh! You must not say his name!”
“Why?”
His features pulled together. “He is not kind. But he is just. Things will be corrected. You two must leave. Now.”
“I’m not leaving without everyone else.”
“Stupid girl! What do you think to do? Bring them all into your time? They must be put back where they belong.” He was sneering at me.
I found it diminished his beauty considerably. “I’ll stay here until every single one of them is back. Then, I’ll leave.”
Wings droopy, he nodded and waved a hand. “Hyacant knows what to do. Go with her. Be quick.”
“What about Remi?” Hyacant asked.
Red flashed through his whole being and rolled in a ripple across his wings. “I will deal with her. Or, rather, he will.”
Her little hand covered her mouth, and the sound of a sharp intake of air reached my ear. She leaned close, her breath tickling my earlobe, and whispered, “We do actually need to go.”
I smiled at Bastion, thanked him for his help, and followed Hyacant’s directions out of the structure.
Once we were outside, I turned to look back at the dwelling. It was cinder block, gray, and all the things I imagined when I thought of a prison. That was no castle.
“Hurry, Shirley!”
At the fairy’s urging, I tore my gaze from the building and raced across the fields toward the children.
Giggles echoed over the vast meadows, and I again grew sick to my stomach as I thought about the families destroyed by the frivolous nature of the fairies.
They all flew to us when Hyacant called them with some kind of inner jangling. It almost sounded like Jingle Bells.
She resembled a sergeant taking control of his troops as she shouted out orders. “Okay, everyone, listen up! Bastion is going to the big man. Remi is about to get a spanking!” Twitters came from the assembled creatures. “We’re to take all these children home. Then, I’ll take Shirley.”
Cheers went up among the assembled, and they all scattered to seize children. Before I could blink, tiny tornadoes formed all over the prairie, and, with loud pops, one after the other disappeared.
Something tugged on my hand, and I looked down.
A little girl, wearing a long, white nightgown, with curly auburn hair, stared up at me.
I smiled. “Hi.”
She swished the bottom of her nightgown. “Ms. Hyacant said your name’s Shirley.”
“So it is,” I said.
Her chubby thumb pointed at her chest. “I’m too.”
“Your name is Shirley?”
“Yes, it is. We look the same.”
My bottom jaw dropped. “Did Hyacant bring you here?”
She nodded. “And Miss Flita. But she left.”
Mom’s story played through my head as I looked at the child. This was the Shirley from the Christmas tale! I was sure of it.
Oh, how I w
anted to be the one to take her home and see the look on her parents’ faces when they saw their little girl returned to them. But I didn’t have that power. “What’s your last name, Shirley?”
“Boh.”
Hyacant returned. “I have to start taking them back. Will you be okay here?”
I nodded.
She smiled and grasped one of the children by the finger. They were gone in a whirl of wind.
Everything beneath our feet gave a violent rumble, and my head whipped to the right. A mountaintop to our right exploded, sending rocks and trees flying.
I covered my new friend with my body while riveting my eyes to the chaos.
Out of the destruction rose what looked to me like an angel. White, gossamer wings spread so widely, they threatened to block out the sun. Light poured from the being’s body, and everything was suffused with it.
My first thought was: It must be an angel. Then, the thing spun in the air and light turned to dark. My insides chilled; coagulating like exposed blood. Certainly not an angel. But something powerful.
It turned to us and its voice boomed through the clearing. “Remenditia!”
Her fiery, red figure floated to it, as though caught by a tractor beam of some sort. She stopped and hovered a short distance away, her arms limp at her sides, her head back as if in ecstasy.
“You have broken my laws! Bastion tells me you imprisoned a human in a cage! And all these others are not outcasts—but orphans!”
We couldn’t hear what she said in response, but it must’ve angered the being—which I realized at that point was Gunnar—because he roared.
That sound set my body quaking. It filled the air and pushed outward, slamming into everything it encountered.
Shirley whimpered from under me, and I pet her hair and told her it would be okay; though I wasn’t sure it would be.
“You must be punished,” he said.
Hyacant reappeared and pointed to Shirley.
I let the child go, but pulled her back for one last hug. “Be safe.”
She nodded and hugged me in return before running to Hyacant and reaching up a little hand.
A whoosh! later, and they were gone.
My attention was returned to the action on the mountain, and I wrung my hands.
Remi’s head was straight, and her arms out to each side. Wings that were once glittery, looked dull and lifeless as they hung down her back.
Gunnar lifted a hand, and her scream enveloped the glade. I watched in horror as the extensions on her back turned to ash and floated away on the breeze. Her body writhed and twisted, and she was shrinking in size.
“From this day forth, you shall be human.” With no other words, the terrifying Gunnar folded his arms, arched his wings up, and sank back into the mountain.
Bastion caught Remi in mid-air and carried her to where I stood. He put her gently upon the ground at my feet and shook his head. “She will now live and die as you do. Please, take care of her.” With that, he spread his wings and flew away.
I stared at the now human girl on the grass. Take care of her? What… Before my thoughts could go much further, Hyacant reappeared.
She let out a gasp and fluttered down to the girl’s head, lighting on a flower nearby. A tentative hand reached out to stroke the scarlet locks of hair framing her face.
“This is horrible,” Hyacant said.
“Hey, being human isn’t so bad.” My ire lifted at her connotation.
“It is if you were once immortal. She’ll feel death coming for her every day now. It was never something she had to worry about. Besides, she was a queen in our world; from now on, she’ll be as nothing in yours.”
I jabbed a thumb at my chest. “Mine?”
“She can’t stay here. You’ll have to take her home with you.”
“How will I do that? My parents will freak out.” Reality was starting to set in, and I didn’t like it one bit.
“I’ll fix it. They’ll think she’s your sister.”
“Oh, no! You most certainly will not!”
Hyacant flitted up to hover in front of my face. “So you’d leave her to die?”
“Die? Why would she die? All those other kids were just fine.”
She laughed, the sound oddly unmusical to my ears. “He will not allow her to remain here. This curse… Let me say there’s a limited amount of time to get her out of here before she begins to turn to ash—like her wings did.”
“How did you know?”
“I’ve seen it done one other time. Long ago. But that’s irrelevant. We need to leave, and she’s going with you.”
I stomped my foot in frustration, but I had no choice, really. All my soapbox sermons about doing the right thing had returned to bite me. “Fine.”
Hyacant smiled and patted my nose. “You have a big heart, Shirley. She’ll grow with you.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled.
“Ready?”
My head moved up and down without me telling it to, and I grasped Remi’s hand.
In a violent movement, like a roller coaster must feel when it jumps the track, I found myself and Remi back in my living room.
Hyacant kissed us both, then disappeared in a poof! of sparkly dust.
There were no broken ornaments on the floor, and the Christmas tree winked at me from the corner like it was welcoming me home. All around, I could feel the goodwill of men—that special Christmas spirit—seeping into my body. My eyes turned to my new sister, and I smoothed her hair back with my hand.
It was as though the previous two days hadn’t happened; except I had a new sister in my arms. Thoughts in my head turned to the little Shirley, and I hoped she’d made it home before Christmas morning, too.
Maybe Gunnar was a kind of angel, and had been sent to help me do a good deed in the spirit of the season. Either way, I was happy to have cured the fairies of their frivolous stealing of children.
Our couch was soft, and I lay down next to Remi, waiting for our parents to wake up.
They’d yell, “Merry Christmas, girls!” and we’d open gifts, laugh, and take silly photos.
I fell asleep that early morning with a smile pasted on my face.
