A FAIRYTAIL
BARBARA
SMITH
enry had never believed in fairies, in fact, he had never believed
in anything that did not fit into a precise scientific framework. Even as a
child, his logical little mind had weighed up validity of anything he had
encountered.
When he was six, his parents found him one morning kneeling
in the fireplace covered with a thick coating of soot. In his hand, his
father's tape measure had been plastered with the stuff.
"What on earth are you doing?" his father had
screamed, while his mother gazed in horror at the small piles of black powdery
residue that dotted her new Chinese rug.
"Well," said Henry sombrely, sitting up and
crossing his chubby little legs." If Santa Claus is as big as
they say he is, then I don't see how he could possibly get down this chimney.
I've measured it and it just doesn't add up."
His parents had looked at each other silently. Life with a
child prodigy could be difficult at times. When they first realised that be was
extremely bright, his parents had been very excited. By the time he was two and
a half he could read quite fluently and not long after this he began attending
a school for gifted children.
At the school he came on in leaps and bounds arid by the time
he was eight his knowledge far surpassed anything that either of them had
learnt. That was when they began to realise that it wasn't going to be easy.
Henry lived in a world of maths. While other little boys played with their
action men, Henry played with logarithms. As for fairies and elves, Henry had
long ago decided that they were pure fiction. But that was before he met
Mildred.
He had had a terrible night listening to the clock tick away
the hours, as he tossed and turned in his rumpled bed. As the first fingers of
dawn edged into the room, he gave up his quest for sleep and rolled out of bed.
Henry wasn't used to having his sleep disturbed. Up until three weeks before,
sleep was summoned by merely closing his eyes; his dreams a smooth unbroken
stream of equations.
Then his new secretary' Stella had arrived. From the moment
that he first saw her, his emotions had become totally illogical. Her very
presence spurred his heart into an impromptu tap dance routine, his breathing
became difficult and his skin felt warm and flushed. He had tried desperately
to analyse his feelings, in the hope of bringing some order back to his life.
The problem was that he had never felt anything remotely like this before. His
maths and his work had been all consuming. Any female that he had come into
contact with, he had viewed in purely academic terms.
Everyday, her effect on him seemed to get worse and soon his
work had began to suffer. If only he could find the courage to ask her out, but
at every fumbling attempt his nerve failed him.
Downstairs, he made himself a cup of strong coffee and
wandered out into the dew-soaked garden. The spreading sunlight picked out the
tiny droplets in Technicolor shimmer.
Although it was early February the day promised
unseasonable warmth. Lost in his dreams of Stella, Henry didn't at first take
notice of the cursing coming from the end of the garden. But after a while, it
broke into his reverie, He frowned, peering intently at the thick undergrowth
beyond the trees. As he slowly advanced, the voice became louder, accompanied
by thrashing noises, as though someone was crashing around in the hushes.
t'Bloody bastard crow. Sodding birds, they ought to shoot five of
them every Friday." There was another episode of breaking twigs, then the
complaints continued.
Oh sod it, shitting bird. If I get my hands on it, I'll -I'll
pull its wing off and beat it to death with the soggy end, BASTARD!"
Henry stepped into the undergrowth and stared in amazement at
the sight before him. If this was a fairy, she didn't fit any of the
stereotypes. She was about two feet tall and dressed in leggings of a
particularly violent green. These were paired with a shocking pink, skin- tight
top. Her hair was a riot of black ringlets that tumbled around her angry face
like a mass of bouncy springs. Mud was smeared over the toes of her shiny
silver stilettos, as she staggered around in a drunken circle. After a few more
choice phrases, she noticed Henry peering down at her.
"Yeah, and what are you gawking at," she said
angrily. Henry gulped and cleared his throat.
"What are you?" he asked carefully. She rolled her
eyes and shot him a look of pure venom.
I'm a fairy you dimwit. What did you think I was, a bloody
giraffe? Oh, perhaps you hadn't noticed these." Her voice was filled with
sarcasm as she gestured to the wings that rose majestically from her back. Well
one of them did, the other seemed to be hanging at an awkward angle.
Suddenly, all of the anger seemed to leave her as she slumped
down onto a tree stump, a look of pure misery on her face.
"I'm so pissed off. I was really looking forward to the
Valentines bash, seeing all the girls again, not to mention that sexy little
elf from Brompton. 1 hate those bloody crows, they think ifs funny to cut
people up. Usually I'm on the lookout for them, but with all the excitement and
everything. He came at me like a cruise missile, the bloody idiot. I managed to
swerve, but I ended up hitting a free. Broke my wing, now I'll never get to the
dance." Her, shoulders slumped and she sighed loudly.
"Perhaps I could help," suggested Henry. She looked
up at him, half-suspicious, half-hopeful.
"How?"
"Well I know quite a bit about aerodynamics, I'm one of the boffins
over at the defence instillation. Mind you, I've never actually seen a fairy's
wing before, so I can't promise anything. Her face broke into a radiant grin.
"That would be really great. I'm sorry for
shouting at you like that. I was just so mad, but I shouldn't have taken it out
on you."
" Think nothing of it. " Henry extended his hand in
her direction. "I'm Henry, by the way." She put out her own hand. It
looked very delicate next to his large paw. "Mildred," she said.
"Mildred? Oh - I thought that fairies were called things
like Tinkerbell and such. She screwed up her face in a look of disgust.
'Tinkerbell! ~I don't know how you humans can believe rubbish
like that."
Henry smiled and bent to examine the broken wing. Viewed tip
close they were really quite exquisite. As the sun caught them, they gave off a
spectrum of rainbow brilliance. Their leaf-like shape was composed of two rows
of overlapping lamina. The outside edges curled tightly to form a rigid
framework. The inner edges interlocked over a central strut and it was this
that had snapped about half way down the wing span. He was sure he could repair
the broken strut. The problem was, doing so without damaging the fragile
looking lamina. He reached out tentatively and was surprised to find that they
had a resilient almost plastic feel.
"Does it hurt?" he asked
"Oh no, there's no feeling in them. They're ready for
shedding you see, it happens every couple of years. The new ones are almost
through behind them.. Once the next ones start to sprout you lose sensation in
the old ones."
Henry peered behind the wings and saw small stubby growths
appearing at their base
"Well I think I can fix the break if I splint it and
bind it up with strong tape. Whether it will be strong enough for flying, well
-we'll have to wait and see."
Oh brilliant!" she shouted.
He brought what he needed from the house and began the repair
job. As he worked, Mildred chattered about the Valentine's dance and the fun
she was going to have
What about you Henry?" she asked. "Have you got a
hot date lined up for tonight?"
"No," he mumbled, then to his own surprise he found
himself telling her about his problem with the lovely Stella.
"Mmm," she said when he had finished. " Sounds
to me like you need a little push."
"There," he said, leaning back on his haunches, to
survey his handiwork. " Give them a little flap, carefully though."
She stood and wafted the wings gracefully. 'They feel
OK," she said, increasing the speed of the movement and stunning Henry
with a display of multicoloured splendour.
Henry you're brilliant!" She turned suddenly
and planted a kiss on Henry's nose, then she was rising into the air with
practised ease. With one last wave she disappeared over the hedge.
For the first time in his career, Henry was late for work, It
was only after Mildred had gone that the enormity of the situation had hit him.
Try as he may, he couldn't fit the idea of fairies into any sort of scientific
parameter. The fact that such beings could exist was contrary to everything he
had ever believed.
By the time he arrived at work, he had almost convinced
himself that the whole episode had been a dream.
When he entered his office, Stella was standing by his desk,
with her back to him. At the sound of the door, she tumed, almost
guiltily and gave him a nervous smile. She was holding something in her hand,
which she concealed quickly behind her back.
"Hello," she said softly. "I was just bringing
the post in."
His heart went into its usual routine and he felt the blood
rise in his face. Bending his head before she could notice he moved towards
file desk. Something small and hard hit him unexpectedly in the back and he
stumbled, staggering a few steps before coming to a standstill. When he raised
his head, Stella's face was just a few tempting inches from his own. He was
startled by the sound of his own voice.
"Stella, I find you very attractive. I know
it's stupid to think that you could ever be interested in someone as boring as
me, but is there any chance at all, that you might let me take you out to dinner
tonight?"
He couldn't believe it, it was as though someone else had
said the words using his voice. Dumbfounded, he stared at her. Her eyes were
shining.
"Oh Henry, you're not boring. You're the most
interesting man I've ever met. I love it when you explain your theories to me.
Of course I'll come out to dinner with you. " Henry gulped.
"Really!"
She nodded
"Actually, I bought this for you last week." She
brought out something from behind her. "I was going to leave it on your
desk this morning, but I lost my nerve." He took the proffered envelope,
frowning.
"But it's not my birthday."
No silly, its Valentine's day." As he pulled
the card out and saw the large red satin heart, which proclaimed 'Be my love';
Henry was filled with a joy that was overwhelming.
He gazed at her in awe. Without warning, she pulled his face
towards her and kissed him passionately. As she broke from the kiss, he reached
for her and pulled her into his arms, burying his face m her sweet smelling
hair.
A movement caught his attention. It was Mildred, dancing
around on the window ledge outside with a large grin on her face. She waved a
hand that was filled with what looked like a bunch of tail feathers from a
large black bird. Lifting her other hand, she gave him a thumbs up sign, then
she was gone in a colourful flash.
"Looks like we both got our bird," thought Henry
happily.