The Many Adventures of Fay Fairburn - The Way In
It took Fay six years to find her way into the fairy realm.Though in essence it turned out to be easy. All you had to do was find a door.
Not that it looked like a door. It was more of a parting in a curtain, an invisible curtain with an invisible parting, which was why it had taken Fay six years to find it. Six years of prowling through the bushes and trees, looking for the spot where her papa had disappeared that night.
The first time Fay finally slipped through the curtain and found herself in the world behind the surface of the world, it was by accident. She simply stepped between two crooked trees, two trees she had stepped though a thousand times before, and there it was -- Fairyland.
She knew it was Fairyland because the light was different. She couldn’t explain how it was different, but it was. And the trees, they were wilder, the shadows beneath them darker.
And then, of course, there was fact that her house was gone. She turned around and it just wasn’t there anymore.
For one, long panicked moment, Fay thought she might not find her way back home. She clawed blindly at the air between the two trees until she finally tumbled onto the grass, sprawled beneath the glowing lights of her home.
Fay laughed, ecstatic. She did it! She found Fairyland. She could finally look for her papa, could finally find him and bring him home. Even if it took her a thousand times of visiting the fairies to do it.
She danced up to the house. She didn’t tell Annie about the door. Didn’t tell her mama or Evangeline. Fay had learned long before not to talk about the fairies and she knew they wouldn’t understand.
She gathered together what she would need into a satchel -- a canteen of water, a sandwich wrapped in cloth, an apple, a stone with a hole in it, a broken piece of iron bar, a small kitchen knife, and a long spool of string.
It took her five weeks before she was able to find her way through the door again.
Fay stood beneath the strange light and the stranger trees and smiled. Before setting off to explore, she tied one end of the spool of around the twisted tree, so she would not get lost and she could refind the door. She promised that in her first real trip into Fairland she would only explore as far as the string would allow.
As she rambled beneath the too dark shadows of the trees, Fay felt light of heart. She picked a direction at random and began to walk. She would wander until the string reached it end, then she would retrace her steps, untangling the string, which had become caught in bushes or knotted in the branch of a tree.
Fairyland was beautiful in an eerie sort of way. The wind whispered through the leaves. Birds flitted about and it seemed as though Fay could understand what they were saying.
Stumbling into a clearing, Fay found a snake caught in a snare. It was thick as her wrist, skin shiny and verdant green and golden colored. Beautiful except for its tail, which as bent and broken by the wire. The snake writhed in pain, it’s body coiling into twisted hieroglyphics.
Fay kneeled, trying to see if there was someway she could get the snake free. “Look at you,” said said. “You poor thing.”
The snake went still at the sound of her voice and looked up at her with it’s cold, alien eyes.
“Leave it, leave it, leave it!” A magpie, flounced from branch to branch above her. “Leave it!” the magpie said. “Leave it. The liar. The thief. The murder! Let it writhe!”
Fay looked from the bird to the snake, not sure what to do. A hundred Sunday school lessons taught her that snakes were evil. Yet she couldn’t stand to see it in pain. The snake looked up at her, watching her. “Help me,” it said. “Pleassse.”
She nodded, pulled out her knife, and reached for the wire. From above the magpie swooped, flashing its claws at her head, snatching at her hair. “Leave it!” the bird cried “Leave, leave, leave it!”
Fay covered her head and swatted at the crazed bird, which kept swooping and swooping, cutting into her arms. She plunged herself low to the ground and cut the wire. The freed snake glided off through the bushes, dragging its broken tail after it, and disappeared.
“Wicked girl! Evil girl!” the magpie screamed at her.
“Oh, quiet, you,” Fay called back, rubbing at the scratched in her arms. “You’re not so nice yourself.”
The bird screamed again, not words this time, just the terrified shriek of a creature under attack, then fell silent.
Fay stared up in horror. The snake had slithered up the tree and struck. The magpie twitched slightly, it’s black and white feathers quivering. The snake distended its jaw, making its mouth impossibly large, and began to swallow the bird, bit by bit.
Thud, thud, thud, went Fay’s heart, loud in her ears. She turned away and stomped off, heedless of direction. She came up short, when the string went taught, and she collapsed onto a stump, exhausted.
What happened with the snake unnerved her and she wasn’t certain she wanted to explore anymore. She wondered how long she’d been in Fairyland, where she realized, she had not yet seen a single fairy. She looked up into the trees, but couldn’t even guess what time it was. The light slanted in unexpected ways, from many directions at once. The branches snatched at the hem of her dress.
Fay sighed and took a sip of stale, metallic tasting water from her canteen.
The forest looked the same in every direction, green on green, more shades of green that she had ever seen before, with no flowers broke the monotony of color.
Something bright flashed beneath a branch. Fay stood and peeled back a leaf, revealing a large pink fruit, dappled with dew and bobbing lightly on the breeze.
Her stomach rumbled. Fay was starving. She picked the fruit. Its skin was soft as silk, and seemed to glisten.
Vaguely she remembered that Evangeline told her never to eat fairy food. That if you did you would never be able to eat human food again.
Fay thought about the fruit and head home, but at that moment its skin split open, sending a sliver of juice down her wrist. Without thinking, she licked the juice away.
The flavor startled her and she froze. It tasted like … like…
She closed her eyes, and took a full bite. It tasted like summer, the sweet and tangy flavor of rolling in through green fields beneath the hot sun, of running home to her mama, who made fresh lemonade, poured out into tall, tall glasses.
She bite into the fruit again and it tasted like laughter, like how her papa’s eyes lit up, all bright and cheerful, and how his belly would shake when he chuckled. Her papa, who disappeared and been gone for so, so long - remembering made her heart ache.
Fay rubbed the tears from her eyes, and then took a third bite. This time the flavor was watery and wistful as longing. She wanted more.
With the fourth bite, the fruit tasted like … like … Fay blushed. She didn’t know what it was called, but it made her feel warm inside and she was sure it had something to do with sex. She giggled and looked around embarrassed, even though she knew she was alone.
Fay sucked the juice from her thumb and choked. The juiced for a moment tasted like the dirt beneath a hangman, the tainted tang of death. She spat onto the ground and wiped her lips.
The forest around her was dense, and seemed to be thickening, tightening. At her feet lay the end of the string, which, in the course of eating the fruit, she had dropped. She stared at the white curl of string, not remembering what it was for.
Automatically, she lifted the fruit to her lips again. Remembering the rotted taste, she hesitated, but unable to stop herself, she sunk her teeth into its flesh. It tasted like when you knew you know a word, and it hangs on the tip of your tongue, but you just can’t remember it. There should be a word for that, thought Fay. There should be a word for those times when you just can’t remember the right word.
Fay broke off the pit, dropped it on the ground, and shoved the last piece of the fruit into her mouth. It was the flavor of dreams, pillowy and insubstantial as a marshmallow. She felt sleepy. She tipped over onto the ground, her head resting on pine needles.
Fay didn’t see the dark silhouette of a person come up behind her. She was locked into a deep, deep asleep.
[To read more Fay Fairburn stories click here.]
Not that it looked like a door. It was more of a parting in a curtain, an invisible curtain with an invisible parting, which was why it had taken Fay six years to find it. Six years of prowling through the bushes and trees, looking for the spot where her papa had disappeared that night.
The first time Fay finally slipped through the curtain and found herself in the world behind the surface of the world, it was by accident. She simply stepped between two crooked trees, two trees she had stepped though a thousand times before, and there it was -- Fairyland.
She knew it was Fairyland because the light was different. She couldn’t explain how it was different, but it was. And the trees, they were wilder, the shadows beneath them darker.
And then, of course, there was fact that her house was gone. She turned around and it just wasn’t there anymore.
For one, long panicked moment, Fay thought she might not find her way back home. She clawed blindly at the air between the two trees until she finally tumbled onto the grass, sprawled beneath the glowing lights of her home.
Fay laughed, ecstatic. She did it! She found Fairyland. She could finally look for her papa, could finally find him and bring him home. Even if it took her a thousand times of visiting the fairies to do it.
She danced up to the house. She didn’t tell Annie about the door. Didn’t tell her mama or Evangeline. Fay had learned long before not to talk about the fairies and she knew they wouldn’t understand.
She gathered together what she would need into a satchel -- a canteen of water, a sandwich wrapped in cloth, an apple, a stone with a hole in it, a broken piece of iron bar, a small kitchen knife, and a long spool of string.
It took her five weeks before she was able to find her way through the door again.
Fay stood beneath the strange light and the stranger trees and smiled. Before setting off to explore, she tied one end of the spool of around the twisted tree, so she would not get lost and she could refind the door. She promised that in her first real trip into Fairland she would only explore as far as the string would allow.
As she rambled beneath the too dark shadows of the trees, Fay felt light of heart. She picked a direction at random and began to walk. She would wander until the string reached it end, then she would retrace her steps, untangling the string, which had become caught in bushes or knotted in the branch of a tree.
Fairyland was beautiful in an eerie sort of way. The wind whispered through the leaves. Birds flitted about and it seemed as though Fay could understand what they were saying.
Stumbling into a clearing, Fay found a snake caught in a snare. It was thick as her wrist, skin shiny and verdant green and golden colored. Beautiful except for its tail, which as bent and broken by the wire. The snake writhed in pain, it’s body coiling into twisted hieroglyphics.
Fay kneeled, trying to see if there was someway she could get the snake free. “Look at you,” said said. “You poor thing.”
The snake went still at the sound of her voice and looked up at her with it’s cold, alien eyes.
“Leave it, leave it, leave it!” A magpie, flounced from branch to branch above her. “Leave it!” the magpie said. “Leave it. The liar. The thief. The murder! Let it writhe!”
Fay looked from the bird to the snake, not sure what to do. A hundred Sunday school lessons taught her that snakes were evil. Yet she couldn’t stand to see it in pain. The snake looked up at her, watching her. “Help me,” it said. “Pleassse.”
She nodded, pulled out her knife, and reached for the wire. From above the magpie swooped, flashing its claws at her head, snatching at her hair. “Leave it!” the bird cried “Leave, leave, leave it!”
Fay covered her head and swatted at the crazed bird, which kept swooping and swooping, cutting into her arms. She plunged herself low to the ground and cut the wire. The freed snake glided off through the bushes, dragging its broken tail after it, and disappeared.
“Wicked girl! Evil girl!” the magpie screamed at her.
“Oh, quiet, you,” Fay called back, rubbing at the scratched in her arms. “You’re not so nice yourself.”
The bird screamed again, not words this time, just the terrified shriek of a creature under attack, then fell silent.
Fay stared up in horror. The snake had slithered up the tree and struck. The magpie twitched slightly, it’s black and white feathers quivering. The snake distended its jaw, making its mouth impossibly large, and began to swallow the bird, bit by bit.
Thud, thud, thud, went Fay’s heart, loud in her ears. She turned away and stomped off, heedless of direction. She came up short, when the string went taught, and she collapsed onto a stump, exhausted.
What happened with the snake unnerved her and she wasn’t certain she wanted to explore anymore. She wondered how long she’d been in Fairyland, where she realized, she had not yet seen a single fairy. She looked up into the trees, but couldn’t even guess what time it was. The light slanted in unexpected ways, from many directions at once. The branches snatched at the hem of her dress.
Fay sighed and took a sip of stale, metallic tasting water from her canteen.
The forest looked the same in every direction, green on green, more shades of green that she had ever seen before, with no flowers broke the monotony of color.
Something bright flashed beneath a branch. Fay stood and peeled back a leaf, revealing a large pink fruit, dappled with dew and bobbing lightly on the breeze.
Her stomach rumbled. Fay was starving. She picked the fruit. Its skin was soft as silk, and seemed to glisten.
Vaguely she remembered that Evangeline told her never to eat fairy food. That if you did you would never be able to eat human food again.
Fay thought about the fruit and head home, but at that moment its skin split open, sending a sliver of juice down her wrist. Without thinking, she licked the juice away.
The flavor startled her and she froze. It tasted like … like…
She closed her eyes, and took a full bite. It tasted like summer, the sweet and tangy flavor of rolling in through green fields beneath the hot sun, of running home to her mama, who made fresh lemonade, poured out into tall, tall glasses.
She bite into the fruit again and it tasted like laughter, like how her papa’s eyes lit up, all bright and cheerful, and how his belly would shake when he chuckled. Her papa, who disappeared and been gone for so, so long - remembering made her heart ache.
Fay rubbed the tears from her eyes, and then took a third bite. This time the flavor was watery and wistful as longing. She wanted more.
With the fourth bite, the fruit tasted like … like … Fay blushed. She didn’t know what it was called, but it made her feel warm inside and she was sure it had something to do with sex. She giggled and looked around embarrassed, even though she knew she was alone.
Fay sucked the juice from her thumb and choked. The juiced for a moment tasted like the dirt beneath a hangman, the tainted tang of death. She spat onto the ground and wiped her lips.
The forest around her was dense, and seemed to be thickening, tightening. At her feet lay the end of the string, which, in the course of eating the fruit, she had dropped. She stared at the white curl of string, not remembering what it was for.
Automatically, she lifted the fruit to her lips again. Remembering the rotted taste, she hesitated, but unable to stop herself, she sunk her teeth into its flesh. It tasted like when you knew you know a word, and it hangs on the tip of your tongue, but you just can’t remember it. There should be a word for that, thought Fay. There should be a word for those times when you just can’t remember the right word.
Fay broke off the pit, dropped it on the ground, and shoved the last piece of the fruit into her mouth. It was the flavor of dreams, pillowy and insubstantial as a marshmallow. She felt sleepy. She tipped over onto the ground, her head resting on pine needles.
Fay didn’t see the dark silhouette of a person come up behind her. She was locked into a deep, deep asleep.
[To read more Fay Fairburn stories click here.]