Maggie went down into the basement where they had a room set up with a small television. She was often sent down there to get out of her parent’s way. She turned the television on, made herself comfortable on the worn out couch, and waited.
It didn’t take long for her mother to charge down to the basement and find her. “Where have you been?” Her face was red with anger and frustration.
“Right here. I was doing my homework. I finished and turned on the T.V.”
Her mother eyed her. “You talked back to me and ran out of the house. Plus, you didn’t tell me when you got back. You know what that means.”
What she really wanted to say was, “Sure, mom, another beating.” Instead she uttered, “Yes, ma’am.”
Her mother appeared flustered. “No dinner for you. Get up to your room. Wait till your father gets home.”
Maggie felt it was better not to say anything. She turned off the television and stood up. She didn’t want to pass her mother for fear she might get a fly-by smack in the face, so she stood in place, waiting for her mother to go upstairs.
With a wicked grin, her mother extended her arm and pointed up the stairs.
Maggie took off running and didn’t stop until she closed her bedroom door. She took a huge sigh of relief having gotten past her mother without any physical retaliation. Then she sat and thought about how her mother didn’t see her in the hall, but she did in the basement. Did the fairy really give her the gift of invisibility? And if she did, how did it work? Could she be invisible forever? Did she control it, or did it come and go on its own?
She didn’t have answers to any of these questions, and she still wasn’t sure there really was a Fairy Blue who gave her a gift of invisibility. What she did know was she didn’t want to be there when her father showed up. She began to pace, thinking of what options she had.
When she heard her father in the kitchen a short time later, she still hadn’t come up with any other options. She couldn’t run. It was getting late, and she had nowhere to go. The woods came to mind, but she knew better than to go there at night.
She thought she’d try faking sleep, so she exchanged her shirt for her pajama top and crawled under the covers. She turned on her side and prayed. “Please don’t let him see me, please don’t let him see me.”
The door to her room flung open, and she held her breath. “Margaret,” she heard her father slur in anger.
She waited.
Then the oddest thing happened. Her door slammed. She quickly rolled over, half expecting her father to be looming over her, but there was no one.
“Sheez no in there,” Maggie heard him shout in the hall in his usual drunken slur.
“What do you mean she’s not in there? I sent her straight to her room. She better be there.”
Margaret heard angry footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Foget it, I’m hungry. I’lls deal wif hern lata.” Footsteps went down the stairs.
She was very pleased with herself that she averted their punishment once again, but her father said she wasn’t there. Maybe in his drunken stupor, he thought it was just pillows under the blankets. Then, just as she laid back down, her door opened.
“What game are you playing Margaret Smith?” her mother said in a low, growling voice. The door closed.
It was too good to be true. The Fairy Blue really did give her a gift of invisibility. How long would it last…especially before her parents called the police and claimed her as a missing child?
She debated going downstairs for dinner, but the grumbling, moaning hunger pains in her stomach wouldn’t let her hide anymore in her bedroom. She put on her pajama bottoms, hoping they would believe she was asleep, and walked cautiously into the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and yawned for effect.
Her parents looked up from the table, surprised looks on their faces. Her mother eyed her suspiciously. When Maggie didn’t say anything, her mother waved her fork in the air and said, “Get your own plate. You can have what’s left.”
“Thank you,” Maggie whispered. She walked over to the cabinet, feeling her parent’s eyes bore into her back. She smiled as she retrieved a bowl. She took a glass and silverware, and put the small amount of chili left in the pot into her bowl. She moved to the table and slid into the empty chair, placing her bowl, glass and spoon on the table.
“Where were you?” Her mother asked.
Without looking, she said, “sleeping,” and shoved a spoon full of chili into her mouth.
Her father stopped eating. “You weren’t in your bed.”
Maggie continued to shovel the little bit of chili in her bowl into her mouth as she uttered, “Yes, I was.” She picked up her empty bowl, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher. Without turning, she said, “I don’t feel well. I’m going back to bed. Good night, Mother, Father.” She hurried out of the kitchen without looking at them, a broad cocky smile spreading across her face.
“Whaz’s up wid her?” She heard her father bellow. You wan me ta beat her now?”
“Just forget it,” her mother yelled back.
When she got to the stairs, she skipped up them and all the way to her bedroom. She was tired, but she was feeling…relieved…and triumphant. It was the first time in her young life she had escaped her parent’s punishments—at least for now.
Chapter Four
As time went on, Maggie’s disappearing act began to irritate her parents. Maggie had become very smart and artful in her skill of getting out of punishment. As soon as one of them turned their back, she wished she was invisible, and when they turned around, she was gone.
They would search the house and yard to no avail, and this only made her parents angrier. When she reappeared, be it in her bedroom or down in the basement hideout, she got a good spanking for it.
***
“I don’t know how’s she’s doing it.” Maggie’s mother slammed her fist on the table. “And you don’t help.” She sat back and lifted her beer bottle. She tipped it toward her husband. “You just let her get away with it.”
“What d’ya want me to do about it?” He gulped he half-filled glass of whiskey. “The little shit keeps disappearin’.”
Maggie’s mother leaned forward, her face twisting with puzzlement. “I know, right? It takes us off guard. We need to do something about it.”
He poured another glass of whiskey. He almost emptied the glass before he even set the bottle on the table with a thud. “Ya know, woman? I really don’t give a damn anymore. Let her disappear. Maybe she won’t come back. He picked up his bottle and went outside.
Maggie sank back into the shadows of the living room furniture, tears running down her face. She was living in hell, and she didn’t see any way of getting out of it. She had no family other than her parents. There was her aunt, her mother’s sister, who was the first one to call her by a nickname, but after that visit, her mother refused to let her have any contact.
If she had grandparents, she didn’t know them or where they might be. The town was small, and she knew if she told her teacher, it would get back to her parents, and it would just mean more punishment.
The gift of disappearing Fairy Blue bestowed upon her had worked in the beginning. She had narrowly escaped some beatings, but now her parents were getting smarter. As soon as they caught sight of her, they made up for the beatings she escaped. The verbal abuse intensified including her parents confirming that they didn’t care about her--she was a burden. For that matter, they didn’t seem to care about anything except their liquor.
Maggie moved from behind the recliner and as she stood up, she felt herself being lifted off the floor by the seat of her pants then pushed forward.
“Get to your room! Now!” Her mother’s face was the color of a tomato.
Maggie found her balance and ran upstairs fearful her mother would follow her. When she got in her room, she turned around, expecting her mother’s hand to connect with her cheek, so she threw her arm up to protect herself.
The
door to her room closed, and she heard an unfamiliar sound—metal on metal, but soft and with a click. She went to the door and turned the handle. It was locked.
Her door never locked. When did they put a lock on her door?
“You’ll stay in there until I let you out.”
She heard her mother’s footsteps disappear down the hall.
She turned the handle, harder, faster, and pulled on the door. She stepped backward, tripping over clothes, toys and books she had scattered about the floor. She caught herself on the dresser and cursed herself for not cleaning her room when she was told to. It wasn’t that she didn’t like a clean room. She had just started a revolution of her own since that day she walked out of the forest. She was bound and determined to…to what? Get back at her parents? Protect herself? Escape?
And go where…
She rubbed the part of her hip that came into contact with the corner of the dresser. What was she going to do now? What if she had to go to the bathroom? Were they going to let her out to go to school? To eat?
“It didn’t work,” she sobbed. “Your stupid gift only made things worse.” Maggie lay on her bed and cried herself to sleep.
She didn’t know what woke her in the middle of the night. She sat up and looked around, taking a few seconds to orient herself. Seeing her door ajar, she felt the sudden urge to go to the bathroom.
She took her shoes off and tiptoed to the door. There were no lights on in the hall or coming from the other bedroom where her parents slept. She made her way to the bathroom and closed the door with slow deliberation to prevent any noise. She couldn’t get her pants down fast enough, and as soon as her bottom touched the toilet seat, she peed for what seemed forever.
Now she faced another dilemma. If she flushed the toilet, her parents might hear it. If she didn’t, they’d surely let her know it in the morning.
Maggie felt anger build up inside her. She was mad at everything her parents did to her--for the Fairy Blue talking her into taking such a stupid gift. All it did was backfire on her and forced into a quandary as to whether to flush the toilet or not.
In a frustrated, angry huff she slammed down the lever, yanked opened the bathroom door and went back to bed.
Chapter Five
The sun’s rays worked to find their way into Maggie’s room through the slats in the blinds that covered the only window in her room. The light and gentle heat woke her. She rolled over and looked at her clock. Seeing the little hand resting on seven made her wonder if it was really the daylight or the habitual waking at the same time every school day that actually stirred her.
The familiar radio station popped on, and she pushed the button to silence it. She looked at her door. It was still ajar, the same way she left it the night before.
She hurriedly readied for school and found herself standing at the top of the stairs hesitating to take the first step.
She jumped at the sound of crashing glass that followed her mother’s loud voice.
“Really? You’re starting this early in the morning? You go to work smelling like booze and they’ll fire your ass. Then what?”
“Leave me alone, woman.”
Maggie made her way downstairs and spied around the corner into the kitchen. She watched her father stand with the clumsiness she had seen so many other times that reminded her of bobble-head toys. His head lulled from side to side and his legs wobbled.
When he turned in her direction, she flattened up against the wall and held her breath. She heard the kitchen door to the backyard open and then slam. At that moment, she didn’t know what would be worse—dealing with her drunken father or with her angry mother.
She moved with stealth, like a mouse ready to steal a morsel of food right from under the cat’s nose, but her mother was waiting for her.
“How do you do it?” her mother’s voice was harsh and demanding.
Maggie squeezed her body into a chair at the table without pulling it out. “Do what?” she said meekly.
“You disappear all the time. At the right times as if you know you’re going to get punished.”
“I’m always here.” Maggie knew her mother would not accept that answer, but she didn’t know what else to say.
Her mother took a plate off the counter half filled with cold eggs and toast and dropped it on the table in front of her. The eggs jumped, and the toast popped off the plate onto the table.
Maggie jumped, but she didn’t make a move.
Her mother placed her hands on the table and leaned forward so her face was inches from Maggie’s. “From now on, every single day when you get home from school, you go to your room. Understood?”
“Y…yes,” Maggie squeaked out.
“Eat your breakfast, and don’t be late for the bus.”
Maggie picked up her fork and took a bite of eggs. There was nothing worse than cold eggs and toast, but she knew if she didn’t eat it, there would be nothing else. Worse, her mother stood, back to the counter with arms folded, glaring at her, a lit cigarette dangling from her fingers. Her mother only smoked when things were really bad between her parents.
Fighting hard not to gag, she finished her food and left the table without another word to or from her mother, but she felt as if her back was on fire from the heated stare that followed her out the door.
“Did you forget something?” her mother called out coldly.
Maggie ran back into the kitchen, picked up her plate and silverware and put them in the dishwasher. Her mother didn’t move except for her eyes that bored into Maggie. For the first time, Maggie felt afraid. It was three months to her birthday when the Fairy Blue’s gift expired. She ran out of the house wondering what she would do then. How would she escape their anger and constant mistreatment?
Now, her parents were going to lock her in her room. That might be okay as long as they didn’t confiscate her small laptop, IPod or countless books stored all throughout her room in cupboards, on shelves, under the bed, and in her closet. They had never let her have a phone, so that wasn’t anything they could take from her.
There would be no need to be invisible in her room, unless one of her parents entered either drunk or in a bad mood. Other than disappearing, there was no way out if that happened. The problem she saw was that in this situation, there would be no brief moment where her mother or father wouldn’t be paying attention so she could vanish. If they came into her room, it would be for the sole reason to punish her, and she knew from previous experiences when that was their intent, they were on it like a dog digging up a bone—totally focused on her.
She walked to her bus stop with her head down and heaviness in her heart. She was unsure of what would happen when she got home from school. She hadn’t gotten dinner the last time her mother locked her in the room, but at least they unlocked it so she could use the bathroom.
She decided one of the best things she could do would be to insist on using the bathroom when she got home before her door closed behind her.
She reached her bus stop at the driveway of the only other student on her street to ride the big, yellow vehicle. Mark Jacobs, a twelve year old, was kicking a tattered soccer ball around his front yard.
“Hey, Mark,” she called to him.
“Yeah, whatever,” he answered in his real, standoffish acknowledgement that he used when his mother wasn’t around. His parents tried to teach him manners, so he used them when his parents were present and only then because he had no use for Maggie.
She stood at the end of his driveway like she did every other school day and looked down the street. However, she kept one eye on Mark. Previous experience had her on guard for anything he might throw at her—like a torn up soccer ball, or a water balloon. Today, he seemed to have no interest in her.
She patiently waited for one of two school buses that serviced their town for the kindergarten through twelfth grade school they attended in the neighboring town.
They lived in a very small rural village about an hour south of Syracu
se. Their town was mostly made up of farmers, some of them Mennonites, a few mechanics, a few store owners, one doctor, and three churches. It truly was one of those towns where everybody knows your name.
Most days, the only friend during a school day was the bus driver Betsy who gave her a large welcoming smile with her, “Hey Maggie, how’s it going,” greeting. It was always the first smile Maggie received every day, and it was the last smile she saw—sometimes the only smile--she received during the day, but it was the highlight of her day because Betsy always called her Maggie, not Margaret.
Finally, she saw the bus turn onto their street, and she blew out a small sigh of relief. There weren’t many kids on their route, and she was often able to get a seat by herself away from the other kids where she would pull out one of the books from her backpack and read for the duration of the bus ride.
School would give her an eight-hour reprieve from her home—an hour ride each way, six hours in the school building--and as long as some of the other kids who usually took pleasure in teasing her took a day off from their bullying, she would be able to collect herself to prepare for her parent’s tirades when she got home.
When the door opened, Maggie expected to hear Betsy’s cheerful greeting, but a man was sitting in her seat--a substitute. Her day wasn’t starting off on a good note. Even so school was tolerable that day. There was a new student, and he had taken all the attention away from her.
On her walk home, she tried to keep her thoughts off of what was waiting for her. Her plan was to do exactly as her mother had ordered. So, when she got home, she opened the front door, closed it as quietly as she could and immediately made her way upstairs to her room.
Her bedroom door was open. She had closed it behind her this morning. Her nerve fibers began to twitch as suggestions of what her parents might be conspiring in their devious minds ran across her brain. She wanted to shut her door, but since there was no way for her to lock it, it would be useless. She decided to leave it open. She moved gingerly about her room making sure there were no…surprises.
The Fairy Trail Page 2