The Fae of Boots and Laces

by Jennifer Garrett

  Sarah tried to stifle the sob rising in her throat, but the tears came anyway. Her husband’s strong hands massaged her shoulders and back as they swayed in the darkness.

  “Had enough air yet? You’re shivering.”

  Her arms fastened around his neck, and, as she leaned against him, she felt his muscles tighten under his shirt. “Help me forget today ever happened.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Let’s go inside. I’ll get you warm properly.” Sarah climbed back through the opening; Jim followed, closing the fire escape. Minutes later they shed their clothes and slid into bed.

  A smile turned up the corners of Sarah’s lips. “I’m warm now,” she whispered in her husband’s ear. “You get a gold star.”

  He rolled his wife on top of him and pressed his mouth against her neck. “I’m just getting started. I’m going for star-pupil status.”

  THE DAY DAWNED THE same as any other, another crisp, cool November morning. Except it wasn’t, not for Sarah. She woke with the sunrise, emptied the night pail, and donned her robe. As she approached the window, she paused, pulling back the threadbare curtain to view the people below, going about their business.

  Another light layer of snow had fallen during the night. There were still spots where its newness hadn’t been tainted yet, but, as the hours wore on, she knew the day’s refuse and waste would create a totally different scene.

  Today was only Day One beginning a multiple-week time frame during which symptoms could present. If they made it to the very end of the month, she’d breathe easier. By that point they probably had escaped any impact. She shuddered and offered up a quick prayer for her family. Her fingers trailed along the glass pane. A shiver ran along the length of her arm, and she remembered she didn’t have a coat. Albert would be wearing hers for now.

  Moments later, after rummaging through her small closet, she found two heavy shawls that she could pair with her hat and gloves. She shrugged. They would have to do for now. That decision made, she woke her family, then proceeded to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for them.

  The warmth emanating from the stove lent a cozy feel to the small space. Sarah pasted on a smile as her children slowly made their way to the kitchen table. She knew it’d be too soon; however, Sarah couldn’t help but scrutinize her son for any possible ill effects. The coffeepot percolated on the stove, filling the apartment with a tantalizing aroma. After liberally filling each bowl with oatmeal, she added a sprinkle of brown sugar and raisins to each.

  “Good morning, dear,” Sarah said as Jim joined the children at the table.

  “Morning, sweetheart. How is everyone this morning?” he asked, as he eyed his two children eagerly scooping oatmeal in their mouths.

  “Good, Pa.” Albert paused and glanced at his ma. “Ma, can I have some more please?”

  “You sure can.” She piled another heaping scoopful of oatmeal in Albert’s bowl, then filled her own before sitting down to have her breakfast.

  “Albert, don’t forget we have that large order to work on tonight and every night this week, so we can make our quota. I’ll have you cut and trim the leather, like you did last night. It went pretty quick, don’t you think?”

  Albert kept his attention on his food as he answered. “I guess, Pa.”

  Maggie piped up beside her brother. “May I be excused?”

  “Yes, dear. Finish getting ready for school. We’ll leave shortly.” Sarah saw Albert’s now-empty bowl. “You go along also, Albert. So we can leave soon.”

  Sarah skirted the two empty chairs to sit by her husband. “Jim, could we talk some more about moving outside the city? You said, when we caught up with our orders, we’d have money to maybe get to the outskirts of town. The kids would have more room. You could open your own shop, like you’ve been dreaming about for so long.” She paused to gauge her husband’s reaction. Jim’s forehead creased, but she continued anyway. “Now’s a pretty good time. Well, in the spring after the kids finish school.”

  Jim covered Sarah’s hand with his own as he shook his head. “Dear, it’s not a good time, businesswise that is.”

  Sarah’s face fell. “Oh?”

  “We’ve talked about this, remember? If I slow down, or if I don’t deliver on an order, that’s it. That’s why I push so hard every day. I read about it all the time. It’s the turn of the century, and big business is taking over. I’m only one tiny supplier. If I screw up, I’ll be swallowed whole. Gone.”

  He moved his chair in closer to his wife, both still seated at the kitchen table, and his voice became more animated. “The bigger shops, they have more and better machinery than I’ll ever have. Honestly our best hope is for me to get a job with one of them. It’d be long hours, but at least the work and pay would be steady, not dependent on my orders all the time.”

  Sarah sat wordlessly, nodding, her dream of the past several years shattered.

  Jim shrugged. “I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk about this much. I know you have your heart set on a place outside the city. And I didn’t mean to lay all this on you right now. But I don’t think it’s realistic. We have to make ends meet, and here in town is where the people and businesses are.

  “Every day it’s a struggle just to keep my head above water. We can do it with Albert’s help. If I make a good impression with these next few orders, I could have myself a job with one of those bigger shops. That would free up some space in here too. You’d like that, right? Plus Albert wouldn’t need to work every evening, once I can get hired for a full-time gig.”

  “I see.” Sarah cleared her throat and tried to gather her composure. “You’re right. This is not what I was expecting. But I do understand. And having more space would be ... good.” Sarah swiveled in her seat, not wanting her husband to see her eyes filling with tears. She needed out of here, away from all these people and their filth. There was too much of it, no matter what she did.

  Jim turned his wife to face him and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. But it’s best for all of us.”

  Sarah turned her head and wiped away a tear, then stood to leave.

  Jim grabbed her hand, pulling her back. “The world’s changing, Sarah. We must go along with it or be swallowed whole. Their machines make boots faster than I ever could. I can’t compete with that.” His wife wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Are you with me?”

  She offered him a weak smile. “I’d best get dressed, so we can get to school. It’s a mess out there with the snow this morning.” After squeezing his hand, she headed to their bedroom to finish preparing herself for the day.

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Sarah, Albert and Maggie left the now-warm tiny apartment as Jim had set to work with a quick wave of his hand and his head bowed in determination.

  An icy wind blew through them as they walked. Sarah watched her son run up ahead, gallivanting through the slushy mess, now dark with dirt and mired with the waste of others. Maggie plodded by her side, more tentative and not as eager to run forward; instead, she took her time traipsing along while holding onto her mother’s gloved hand.

  The two shawls—one around Sarah’s shoulders, then cinched tight with a belt at her waist, and the second tied in front of her—offered a decent barrier to the intruding cold, but she shivered just the same.

  Glancing ahead again, she caught her son in her sights. Despite being cold, she’d much rather that he had her coat. Although somewhat big on him, he was protected from the elements from head to toe. At least this accomplished one goal: her children would not catch a chill and die from exposure, as so many others did in the city.

  As they walked between the tenement buildings to get to the small side building where Sarah taught school, they passed by street beggars, drunkards, and mothers emptying the night’s soil pots into the streets. Maggie leaned in closer to her mother who, with expert agility, dodged these barriers and led her daughter to the grassy area behind the tenement buildings which opened to the small building where school was held.

  “Albert!
”

  Albert backtracked to where his sister and mother stood outside the school room. Gray puffs of cloud escaped his mouth as he came running, an attestation of spent energy. “Yes, Ma?”

  “Go ahead and start the fire in the stove. We’ll be right in. And walk this time. Catch your breath.”

  “Sure, Ma,” Albert said, as he moved forward at a contained slow run.

  Sarah couldn’t help but smile. When out-of-doors, the child couldn’t walk.

  Behind her, Maggie had strayed to the corner of one of the tenement buildings. Crouched low, her daughter examined a small formation which was almost lost in the build-up of snow.

  Sarah moved in for a closer look. “What do you have there?” As she neared her daughter, she could see the space was partially protected by the building, so the miniature structure wasn’t yet encased beneath the newest snowfall.

  Maggie pointed at her discovery. “Look, Mama. Faeries live here.”

  Sarah squatted in closer to her daughter, peering at the small gathering of rocks. “Whatever do you mean, Maggie?”

  Her daughter sighed deeply. “Everyone knows about faerie stones, Ma. My friend Susie says so.”

  “Indeed.” Sarah covered her mouth as she stifled the laugh threatening to escape.

  Maggie didn’t skip a beat. “We hardly ever see them, unless they want us to. They like to stay hidden. Sometimes they help people, if they’re nice to them.”

  “You don’t say. ... Did Susie say anything else about these faeries?”

  Maggie nodded her head as she continued to study the little circle of small stones with a tiny mound of rocks inside its perimeter, all found atop a small patch of green within the sea of snow surrounding it. She didn’t look up as she spoke again. “Just that we should leave gifts for them. They like presents.”

  “Oh? What kind of gifts exactly?”

  “Well, little flowers, small pieces of food. Sometimes they may even let us know they’re here. But we have to be very quiet and really still, so we don’t scare them.” Maggie finally paused and met her mother’s gaze.

  “Sounds like you and Susie have talked quite a bit about faeries.”

  Maggie shrugged. “Only when we find spaces where they live, like this one. Then we protect them. Some people are mean to the faeries.”

  Sarah met the stormy gaze of her child. “Really? That’s awful.”

  “Will you help protect them, Mama?”

  Sarah cupped her daughter’s cheek. “Why sure. We’ll do what we can, dear. Don’t worry.”

  Susie. ... What type of student is she? Ah, I remember. Good student. ... She studies, doesn’t have her head in the clouds. Hmm. “Let’s go inside now, Maggie. I’ll bet Albert’s got the room nice and warm. You can check on the faeries after class.”

  “You promise?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The afternoon’s walk home held the same fascination for Maggie with the strange little circle of rocks. She shushed her mother when the other children passed. “They can’t know, Ma. Faeries like their privacy.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  JIM’S EYES GLAZED OVER as the dinnertime conversation turned to faeries and their unique abodes. After Sarah’s swift kick under the table, he engaged a little more with his daughter.

  “Pa, I could use your help.” Maggie waited for her father to acknowledge her.

  Jim savored his last few bites of potato, then turned to his daughter. “What can I help with? I don’t know anything about faeries except what you just told me.”

  “Well, I need some iron. A small piece will do. Do you think, in all your equipment over there, you’ve got a piece of iron I can have? A small piece will do.”

  Jim and his wife exchanged a glance. “What for, Maggie?”

  “It’s just in case, Pa.”

  “In case of what?”

  “In case these faeries we’re dealing with are bad ones. We should know pretty soon. Ma and I will leave small gifts for them over the next few days. We’ll watch and see what they do. Then we’ll know.”

  Jim cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows as he focused on his wife. “I’ll see what I can find. But what will iron do, if they are bad?”

  Maggie kept eating as she answered. “We can keep them from coming out of their home. They’ll appear somewhere else but won’t bother us. But I think they’re the good kind of faerie, and so does Ma.”

  A smirk crossed Jim’s lips as he stole another look at his wife. “Does she, indeed?”

  Sarah shrugged, then smiled as she rose to wash the dishes.

  “So maybe we won’t have to use the iron, Pa. Just in case though ...”

  “Albert, are you ready to get to work on tonight’s inventory? That is, after I find a tiny piece of iron?”

  Albert chuckled. “Sure, Pa.”

  “Maggie, come give me a hand with the drying, dear.”

  The chair made a screeching noise, and Maggie pushed herself back and slid down. “Coming, Ma.”

  The two worked quietly side by side. Minutes passed, and Maggie still dried the first plate, seemingly in a daze.

  “Maggie, what is it?”

  A cloud fell over her daughter’s face. “I’m trying to decide what to take to the faeries tomorrow.”

  “Ah. ... How about some little bits of bread? Some tiny crumbs are on your plate here.”

  Maggie’s face transformed into a smile. “Okay, Ma.”

  “After you’ve finished the drying, go into my sewing basket and get a little piece of cloth. Place the crumbs in the cloth, then fold it over. You can carry it or put it in your pocket, until we reach the schoolhouse.”

  Maggie beamed at her mom. “Now for the next day. Let’s see ...”

  The next morning Maggie was up and dressed when Sarah started on breakfast. As they sat down to breakfast, Maggie clutched the small piece of cloth in her hand, careful to eat only with the other hand.

  “Jim, will you check on Albert? He’s usually first to the table in the mornings,” Sarah asked as she spooned out the eggs.

  “Sure, honey.” Jim crossed the small space and pulled back the curtain. “Albert? Move along, son. Your breakfast is getting cold.”

  “Be right there, Pa. I’m just so tired.”

  Jim took his place again at the table and began to eat. After a few bites, he met Sarah’s stare. “I guess we were up too late finishing the boots for today.”

  Sarah’s eyes roamed to the boots set up in pairs on the table, finished last night, pristine in their newness. She nodded her head, acknowledging her husband as she waited on Albert.

  Albert dragged himself to the table, clearly exhausted. “Morning, Ma, Pa.”

  “Eat up, Albert,” Sarah encouraged. “We need to leave shortly.”

  Sarah took her husband aside and spoke in low tones. “Jim, can Albert take the evening off? Look at him. He can barely keep his eyes open.”

  He shook his head, a sadness filling his eyes. “I wish he could. But I’ll never make it without his help. In a few days it should calm down a bit, after the majority of this big order is done. Then he can get a little more rest.”

  Ten minutes later the trio headed out the door, with Maggie taking the lead, holding her mother’s hand, and Albert uncharacteristically bringing up the rear. The three huddled together during their walk, creating a barrier, as the wind haphazardly whipped their clothing and stung their faces.

  Once they cleared the path through the tenement buildings, Maggie made a beeline for the faerie structure. “Look, Ma. The rocks, they’ve changed since yesterday.”

  Sarah studied the little formation. “I can’t tell a difference, dear. Albert, can you?” Her son had slid down against the building, sheltered against the wind.

  “Nah. Looks the same from here.” He leaned his head into hands.

  “You can’t tell from there, Albert, silly. You have to get close, real close, ’cause everything is so small,” Maggie said, already bent down and sitting in the sno
w. Slowly Maggie opened her fist. She laid the fabric close to the stone, then pulled off her mittens. Ever-so-gently she placed the crumbs next to the stones. Her eyes darted from left to right. Spying what she needed, she retrieved another little rock and placed it next to the pieces of bread. “Do you think that will help keep away the birds, Ma, before the faeries can come get it?”

  “Very clever. I’m sure that will help.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah glimpsed her son nodding off, his head resting against the building. “Albert, get inside. You’ll be much warmer. We’ll be right there.”

  He scrambled to his feet, losing his balance and sliding down again before finally righting himself and plodding toward the school entrance.

  The day wore on. Between Maggie’s constant distraction out the window and Albert sleeping through his lessons, Sarah’s own focus wasn’t fully where it needed to be. When she dismissed the class, Maggie ran out the door. Almost immediately she ran back to meet her ma and Albert.

  “Come look. Quick!”

  Sarah strained to see. “Is it gone? I can’t tell.”

  “Yes, Ma. They took it. They liked our gift!”

  “Or the birds ate it,” Albert added, with a smirk.

  Maggie’s eyes filled with tears. “You take that back, Albert.”

  “Maggie, dear, look over there. See that branch between those two buildings? I think that’s witch hazel. It grows from trees, and usually you can find flowers, even in November.” She waited for a spark of recognition from her daughter.

  “Oh, for the faeries you mean?”

  “Yes, for tomorrow.”

  Maggie’s jaw dropped in surprise as her face lit up; then she ran to investigate.

  “Albert, try to be a little more considerate.”

  “Ma, the birds probably ate the silly bread crumbs.”

  “Or maybe not.”

  Maggie rushed back with several perfect little flowers in her hand.

  “Those will do nicely, honey. You can spread out the petals close to the rocks. Put them in a little water when we get home, and they’ll still be fresh in the morning.”