Maggie’s head turned slowly, “I’ve had about enough of you today. So, shut your mouth. Got it?”
The secretary walked in and stopped before her desk. Her acknowledgement of Maggie was a smile filled with pity.
Maggie put her head back and sighed. “Thanks a lot,” she said in defeat. Nymph was silent. It wasn’t like her not to make some remark about it. No matter what was said, she always had something to say about it.
Maggie looked down at the chair. Nymph was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
“I don’t want to go anymore!” Maggie yelled at her mother.
“You have to go. They’re watching us, and if you don’t go, they’ll take you and put you in a place for messed up kids. You think living here is bad? If you go there, you’ll pray to come home, and believe me, I won’t take you back.”
Maggie so wanted to say, “It might be better than this,” but she knew better. Instead, she whispered, “Maybe that would be better for you.”
Her mother didn’t hear her. “Worse than that, they could take me to court…put me in jail for neglect.” She took a can of soda out of the fridge and slammed it on the table in front of Maggie. “Me neglecting you…,” she laughed. “God, I wish I could neglect you. I’ve had to take a second job just to pay for these sessions, so yes, you’re going.”
Maggie wanted to laugh. Her mother just loved being dramatic—she already had two jobs long before Mr. Faulkner gave her the business card for Dr. Hanson, psychiatrist. Did her mother think she was stupid?
Her mother plastered peanut butter and jelly on a piece of bread, tossed it on a paper plate, and dropped it on the table. “This is neglect? I’m making you dinner for God’s sake.” She took a puff on a cigarette that rested on the edge of the sink, and then she doused it out under a trickle of water from the faucet. She studied it for a moment then threw it in the trash.
“I won’t be home until three. I have to close the bar. You best be in bed.” She picked up her purse and keys and left the kitchen.
Since that day in Mr. Faulkner’s office Nymph had disappeared, and she had been to three psychiatrist sessions. Her life just kept getting worse. She no longer had anyone to talk to, and that included Dr. Hansen. She’d rather talk to Nymph than a man she didn’t know who kept asking her how she was feeling. But she knew deep down inside, Nymph wasn’t coming back.
The biggest problem was Dr. Hansen reported back to her mother, so she couldn’t tell him how horrible she thought her life was. That would end in disaster. Nymph knew how bad it was, and she could tell her anything because Nymph would never tell her mother what she said.
She had no way of explaining to the therapist why she was talking to herself. She couldn’t very well tell Dr. Hansen that there were fairies in the woods near her home, or that one of them had been keeping her company for the last few months. That would get her a room at the sanitarium. She couldn’t go to a home for juveniles—she was okay taking care of herself with what her mother could, or rather wanted to supply for her at home.
She was forced to make up stories; however, she kept them lined with some truths, like the bullying she was subjected to at school. So, their sessions went something like this:
“How are you today, Margaret?”
As she cringed and sucked in a breath, she would reply, “I’m fine, Dr. Hansen. How are you?”
“Now then, Margaret, this time is for you, about you. Tell me how you’re feeling?”
“I’m feeling very well, Dr. Hansen.”
He would exhale a slightly larger than normal breath, readjust himself in his chair and try again.
“Have you heard any voices lately?”
“Only those of the people that are near me,” Maggie would reply, and then she would smile every so politely.
“How is school?”
“I would imagine if you ask any young teenager how school is, they’d all give you the same answer. I’ll be glad when I graduate.”
“Why do you think every teenager feels that way?”
“Who wants to do homework for the rest of their life?”
“Tell me how you feel about homework.”
At this point, Maggie would want to scream. Dr. Hansen would bring every topic of conversation, even if it was about having an upset stomach and diarrhea, back to how she felt about it.
What Maggie really felt about it was not what she thought she could say. How do I feel about it, Dr. Hansen? I feel it would be much better if my mother didn’t waste her money on these sessions because you can’t help me.
“I don’t feel anything about homework other than it has to get done in a timely manner.”
And then Dr. Hansen would try another approach.
She didn’t want to go to her session today. She wanted to look for Nymph in the woods on the fairy trail. She had mistreated her. She told Nymph to shut up. The fairies warned her every time they bestowed a gift to her that if she was to misuse it, it would go away. She was pretty sure telling Nymph to shut up was a good enough cause for the fairies to remove her only friend and confidant,
Maggie threw out the remainder of her sandwich. She stood at the kitchen sink peering out the dirty window panes to the backyard that didn’t beckon her to come out and enjoy the warm evening.
Sighing heavily, she went upstairs to her room and contemplated her options in life. The bullying at school was getting to be too much. She was seen as a loner, teased for talking to the fairy no one else could see, admonished for her taste in clothing because she had no money and no way to go shopping, therefore the only clothes she had was what her mother supplied for her—that was all she needed to say about that. No one gave her a chance. They didn’t try to get to know her. Everyone steered clear of her. She sat alone wherever she went.
So on her bed, looking out at the early evening sky that was striped in clouds of white and pink against a blue back drop, she thought about how the rest of her life might play out. She could stay where she was—continue on with the ruse she invented for her mother, her teachers and Dr. Hansen.
Or she could run away—somehow find her Aunt Agnes and beg her to take her in.
Or, she could end it all.
Or, she could just go back to the woods and beg the fairies to help her out.
In the end, the fairies won.
Chapter Fourteen
She wasn’t able to skip school, so seeing the fairies would have to wait until after her mother left for the closing shift at the local bar. She knew she could have gone whenever she wanted. Her mother never really cared what she did as long as she went to school, the therapy sessions, and was in bed when she got home in the middle of the night.
Still, she didn’t want to risk angering her for any reason, so she waited until her mother left for work, then she left for the woods.
It had been several weeks since Nymph left her. She missed her so much. Maggie hoped she could convince her to come back. She didn’t care if they sent her to a psychiatric hospital; at least Nymph would be with her. She wouldn’t be alone.
She reached the trail well before dark, giving her enough light to inspect the trees. It didn’t take her long before she noticed a tree with a small brown roof and porch built around a hole in the trunk.
The roof had curled pieces of bark that looked like antlers. The porch had lovely carved posts with
twigs curved around them for railings. But what intrigued her the most was what was hanging from a branch just to the side of the porch. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a swing in motion. It was then she saw the fairy enjoying the frivolity of her tree swing.
The fairy ignored Maggie. Her head was back as she laughed and cooed in time with her back and forth movement. She had long, brown hair that blended in with the same color, full-length frock. In fact, Maggie couldn’t tell where her hair ended and her dress began, except for a dim shimmer that outlined her frock.
Maggie moved closer to the tree and heard, “Do you have one of these? They
are such a delight.”
“I used to. My dad cut it down one day when he was drunk.”
“My, my. I’m so sorry, Maggie.”
“How is it you all know who I am?”
“I guess you must feel it gives us an unfair advantage. Let me even things out. My name is Nissa.” She pumped her legs hard to gain more height.
“Where is Nymph?”
“Oh, yes. She’s moved on.”
“Great.” Maggie moved to the side of the tree and leaned against it.
“Maggie, you’ve been warned of the consequences of your actions.”
“You mean like the warranty for the gifts you give me?”
“Warranty. I like that.”
“I didn’t mean to be rude to her. It was…I was in….”
“Me, me, me. You may know what the “warranty” is, but you don’t understand do you?” The fairy’s motion stopped instantly, and she glared at Maggie. “So here you are again.”
Maggie pushed away from the tree. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”
Nissa started swinging again. “No, no, no. I am here to help you. I have to help you.”
Maggie folded her arms. “You have to,” she said eyeing Nissa.
“So what is it that bothers you the most?”
She took a few moments before she answered. “School. I’m there most of the day. At home, I’m by myself—mostly. Anyway, I can handle that. But school, it’s almost unbearable. Everyone hates me. They make fun of me all the time.”
“So, you’d like to…fit in?”
Maggie turned and kicked the dirt. “Yeah, I guess.”
Nissa flew off her swing onto her porch. She spread her arms out and smiled wide. “Then I give you the gift of fitting in.” She put her arms down. “There. Done.” She looked off into the distance. “Are you happy now?”
Maggie was confused, so she answered her. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Nissa looked sharply at Maggie. “You guess so?”
“I don’t know what the gift of fitting in really means?”
“Hmmm. Well, there is only one thing left to say. It is a gift I bestow upon you, and you must not misuse it. The gift will be yours until your next birthday. But…if at any time before that you abuse my gift, you alone will reap the consequences and the gift will come back to me.”
“You fairies should put that in writing,” Maggie said sarcastically. “How could I abuse a gift like that, especially when I don’t even know how to fit in or what I need to do so that everyone will stop bullying me?”
“I guess that’s something you will need to figure out. Farewell, Maggie.” Nissa opened her door and walked into the hole of the tree. Slowly, the door, roof, porch and swing disappeared leaving only the hole in the tree.
Chapter Fifteen
Maggie sulked all the way home. Nissa was the strangest fairy yet. Then again, every gift she had received from the fairies was pretty vague. By the time she got home, she decided to just let the gift do whatever it was supposed to. In other words, she wasn’t going to over think it this time.
When she walked into the kitchen, her mother was humming as she stirred something in a pot on the stove.
“Chili tonight. I made chili.” She turned off the burner after she moved the pan to a hotplate on the counter. “I’ve got to go. Make sure you clean up. Oh, and there’s a bag for you on your bed.” Her mother picked up her purse, coat and keys off the table. She attempted a smile, but didn’t quite make it, then turned and left.
Maggie walked over to the pot of chili and peered inside. She looked out the window at her mother who was pulling out of the driveway. Her mother was acting…really strange. That was the only way she could describe it. Her mother never hummed. She hadn’t made a pot of chili in a very long time. Was this part of the fairy’s gift?
Suddenly, she ran up the stairs to her room. There was a bag on her bed just as her mother told her. She walked toward the bed like a policeman moving closer to a suspicious object. Trust was something her mother hadn’t earned from her daughter, so she was apprehensive about opening the bag.
When she reached the edge of her bed, she bent over to peer inside the partially opened bag. It looked like clothing—most likely some ugly shirt. Deciding there was nothing inside that might surprise or hurt her, she opened it and pulled out the most beautiful shirt she had ever seen.
Maggie sat on her bed fingering the soft material, smiling at the modern cuts of a garment that only the popular girls at school could afford. Where did her mother get it, and why did she give it to her?
She carefully laid it over the back of the only chair in her room. She took a few steps back to admire it. It didn’t matter. She would definitely wear it tomorrow.
A car door slammed waking Maggie. She glanced at the red led light on her clock broadcasting three thirty A.M. Her mother was home.
The front door opened, and she heard two voices enter. One was male. Maggie jumped up and shut her door as quietly as she could, then she raced back to bed, pulling the covers up over her head.
Now she knew the reason for the chili and the shirt.
The next morning, Maggie wore her new top with her best pair of jeans and loafers that she only wore to church. She tried to style her hair like how she saw the popular girls wear it. Shen she looked in the mirror she felt pretty satisfied with the outcome.
When she left her room, she glanced down the hall to see if her mother’s door was closed or opened. Thankfully, it was closed. She made her way down to the kitchen to eat something before she left for school.
She opened a cupboard where her mother kept the bread and found Pop Tarts. She took the box down and stared at it. Raspberry Pop Tarts. She had only ever seen these on television. She took a package of two pastries out of the box then put it back in the cupboard. She enjoyed both Pop Tarts on the way to her bus stop, and by the time she arrived at Mark’s driveway, she felt better than she had in a very long time.
As with every other morning, she stayed at the end of the driveway facing the road waiting for the bus and Mark’s onslaught. The bus came, the onslaught did not, but Mark was there. He walked up next to her moments before the yellow bus arrived and stood silently a few feet away from her.
It made her uncomfortable, but she kept her resolve as she waited patiently.
“You look…good,” she heard Mark say as the bus stopped. The doors opened, and he hopped up the steps. Maggie was frozen in shock.
“Are you coming?” The driver asked seemingly irked that she was dawdling.
His question nudged her enough to snap out of her stupor. This time, when she got on the bus, she kept her head held high avoiding all eyes and took the first empty seat.
This time she smiled as she heard the buzzing of conversation take place around her. The tone was different—lighter, not so dark and mocking.
The setting in school was the same as on the bus. Kids were talking about her, but in a different way. The conversations were more wonder and uncertainty, not insulting. Maggie was okay if every day she had left in school was like this one.
The following weeks went the same. Her mother continued to leave bags of clothes on her bed as well as keeping the cupboards filled with food. Then at three thirty A.M. her mother got into her bed with the same man. They were still there when she left in the morning, but by the time she got home from school, he was gone.
Her mother didn’t talk about him, and she never introduced him. The best thing about it was even though her mother wore a smile on her face during the brief moments Maggie had interactions with her, this time, the smile appeared slightly real.
School was better too. The clothes from her mother helped her to integrate into the “popular” crowd. She was being noticed in a good way—girls asked her where she got her outfits, boys smiled as she walked by, and she was surrounded by students vying for a seat at her lunch table.
Finally, Nissa got it right.
Chapter Sixteen
Several
months later, her mother was in a living room chair where she could see the front door. It was twelve fifteen A.M and she had been waiting for Maggie to get home. That was the first surprise.
She glared at her daughter. “Where have you been?”
Maggie shrank from the harshness of her mother’s voice. She hadn’t heard that tone since before she saw Nissa on the fairy trail. “I…I was at Jill’s.” There was something in her mother’s voice, in her dark eyes that worried Maggie. She had seen and heard this mood before. “I didn’t know you were off from work tonight?”
“Obviously. I’m sure if you did, you’d have been home and not out whoring around somewhere.”
“I wasn’t whoring.” Maggie started for the stairs. “God, I can’t believe you said that.”
“Get your ass back here. Now.”
Maggie took a step backward and then turned around. She didn’t dare approach her. Instead, she took a good look at her mother. Her face was tight with irritation. Her hair was disheveled, but it didn’t take away from the redness of her eyes. Yes, Maggie had seen this before. She knew the intensity
of her mother’s anger by the lighted cigarette between her two fingers.
She decided to take the offensive, hoping it would put the fire out in her mother. “Where’s your friend?”
“Ha, my friend.” She took a long drag as she watched her daughter. Then she tapped the cigarette on an ashtray perched on the arm of the chair she was sitting in. “There’s talk going around town about you. One thing I never wanted was for my daughter to be the talk of the town. I thought….” She put the cigarette between her lips and sucked hard. After she blew it out, she coughed. “I thought, I taught you better than that.”
Here she was again—being reprimanded by her mother for something she didn’t do. She wanted to say, “You’ve never been around to teach me anything,” but saying what she wanted and what she could were two different things. Instead, she looked at the floor and waited for the onslaught.
The Fairy Trail Page 6