The Fairy Trail

by Catherine Ras

  Maggie looked dumbfounded. “What does that even mean? How do I use a gift of harm without misusing it? What do I even do with it?” Her questions fell on deaf ears. Ginger was gone, but the fairy house was still there.

  She leaned forward and tapped on the small door.

  “Hello? Ginger? Are you there?” She tapped again and watched in fascination as the door and then the house faded into the tree. She recoiled her hand quickly like a small child that touched a hot burner on a stove.

  Maggie put her head in her hands and cried. She didn’t want to go home, but she knew she’d have to. At the very least, she needed her books and papers for school. What if Doug was still there? What kind of harm would this gift manifest?

  She stood up and brushed off her pants. She wouldn’t inflict harm on anyone. She couldn’t. She’d stay as far away from Doug as she could. She’d keep her phone near her all the time—call the police if she needed. Yeah, that would work.

  When she got home, her mother and Doug were gone. Relieved, she gathered her school stuff and shoved it inside her backpack. In five minutes she was opening the front door to find herself staring into the face of Doug.

  “Margaret, I’m so glad you came back. I left my wallet in the bedroom. I need to get it.”

  His first offense was showing up at the house. His second was calling her Margaret. His third was not asking if he could come in, but telling her he had to. She swallowed in fear, and then forced her facial muscles to remove any sign of emotion—namely the panic and disgust she was feeling.

  Holding on to the knob, she stepped aside and flattened against the door. She kept her head up, eyes straight ahead as he walked by her. She could feel his eyes roaming up and down her body as he passed. She sucked in her breath and held it until she knew he was at the top of the stairs. She blew it out only to take in another and hold it once again.

  For a brief moment, she didn’t know what to do. Should she stay and wait for him to leave? She didn’t want him hiding somewhere in the house when she got home. Should she run to school as fast as she could and just not come home? Her indecision left her immobile. Her feet didn’t know which way to go. Her head rolled from side to side with frightened uncertainty as she tried desperately to make a decision her brain couldn’t make because it was obscured with fear.

  Footsteps coming down the steps melded with footsteps coming up the front porch. Maggie’s head spun around trying to sort out what was happening.

  Her mother arrived at the door the same time Doug reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “I thought you left,” her mother said with a broad smile on her face.

  “I thought you left,” he answered lightly.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Maggie stayed plastered against the door in between the two adults, avoiding their eyes as they flirted back and forth.

  “I just wanted to see you one more time.”

  Her mother moved forward in a seductive prance and kissed him full on the lips. Maggie took the opportunity to slip out the door. She heard it shut hard behind her, forcing her to break out into a run. She stopped halfway down the block realizing she didn’t have her books or homework.

  “Shit! Damn!” she shouted furiously. She turned in circles because she knew she had to go back. She couldn’t show up to class without her homework. She couldn’t fail. But she couldn’t bear the thought of running into Doug be it by himself or with her mother.

  She stopped. The gift of harm. If she went back to the house and he was there, she’d use it. She increased the speed and the distance of each of her steps, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. She tried not to focus on how she’d inflict harm on Doug if he came anywhere near her—or even if she could.

  The door was still closed when she got to the house. Without pause, she opened it and ran up to her room. When she reached the top of the stairs, she heard familiar sounds coming from her mother’s room.

  Wishing she had ear plugs, she moved with the skill of a cat hunting a rodent. She slipped her back pack on her shoulders and listened, even though the sounds continuing to filter out of her mother’s room made her stomach turn.

  Satisfied they were occupied with their unplanned encounter, she made her way out of the house and toward school, relieved she didn’t have do harm—at least not for today.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Maggie had mixed emotions. Her mother was happy, and even though it was more of a pretend happy, it kept her off Maggie’s back. However, her mother’s jocund mood was because of a man she did not like or trust.

  Maggie found herself on high alert every day. She struggled to get her homework done because the constant worry, fear and vigilance sucked more energy out of her than she had to spare. She slept with one eye open, never feeling rested, so one day it was no surprise when fatigue wore her down. Both eyes closed, and she entered a deep sleep.

  In her dream, she saw a man enter her room. She couldn’t make out who it was—there was no visible face. He wore dark clothing, reminding her of a horror movie she watched with her dad when a killer was stalking a young girl. She felt the same dread when the man approached her bed—in her dream—or was it real.

  She opened her eyes to see Doug standing over her. Before she could scream, he slapped his hand over her mouth. With his other hand, he grabbed her arm and tried to hold her down.

  The gift of harm. The gift of harm. The gift of harm.

  She thrust her free hand up. Her thought was to clench her fist and drive it up to his chin or nose. Instead, her palm remained opened, and she slapped it flat upon his chest.

  Doug stopped. When he realized her hand was on his chest, he started laughing. “Is that all you got?” he scoffed.

  Then his face stiffened, his eyes grew wide. He tried to speak, but the strangled sounds coming from his mouth was of someone gagging as if their throat was totally devoid of moisture.

  Maggie took advantage of his weakness. She pushed him away from her, but his weight was falling forward, and she had to keep her hand on his chest to keep him from falling on top of her.

  He tried to knock her hand away, but there was no strength behind his effort. His eyes rolled up into his head, he took a sharp breath and collapsed.

  Maggie scrambled out from beneath him before his total weight pinned her. She clambered to the door, tripping over her shoes on the floor then her book bag, knocking her into the desk chair.

  “Mom, mom,” she called out.

  The door opened just as she reached the handle. Surprised, she jumped back. Seeing her mother, she ran to her and wrapped her arms around her.

  “What the hell! Let go of me!” her mother exclaimed. “What has gotten into you?” She reached for the light switch. When she turned it on, she noticed the horrified look on her daughter’s face. “Margaret, what’s going on? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you…?”

  She looked around Maggie. When she saw Doug flattened out on the bed, she shoved her daughter aside and ran to him. “What did you do to him?” she shouted.

  Maggie cowered against the wall next to her dresser. “N…n…nothing. He came into my room. He scared me. Then he collapsed on the bed. I was coming to get you.”

  Her mother was looking for a pulse, trying to determine if he was breathing. “Doug. Doug, honey, wake up. What’s wrong with you?” She turned her head sharply toward her daughter. “Don’t just stand there, call 911. Now!”

  Keeping her eyes on her mother and Doug, Maggie moved to the nightstand and grabbed her phone. She dialed, and when the operator answered, she handed the phone to her mother.

  In high speed, her mother told the man that Doug was not breathing.

  Not breathing. Gift of harm. “What did I do?” Maggie whispered.

  Her mother was trying to do CPR, but at the sound of Maggie’s words she stopped and looked up. “What did you say?” Anger flashed in her eyes.

  “What do we do? What do we do?”

  “You get your
ass downstairs and let the ambulance people in. Go!”

  Maggie couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. I killed him ran through her mind over and over again with each step she took down the stairs.

  When she got to the bottom, she yanked the front door open and…she didn’t know what to do. She wanted to run as far away as she could, but she knew she had to wait for the ambulance.

  She paced back and forth across the hall, her mind racing with the words “the gift of harm.” Did she do this? Did she harm Doug? He was evil. He deserved it, but she didn’t want to be the one to do it.

  The siren interrupted her thoughts. She ran out to meet the ambulance and directed the EMT’s to her bedroom. She didn’t follow them. She sat down on the front step and put her head in her hands. He couldn’t die—maybe just sick enough that he couldn’t come back—but he couldn’t die.

  Ten minutes later, she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and grunting. She jumped up and moved aside to let them pass. Her eyes focused in on the sheet laying over the gurney. She needed to see his face.

  The tall, fat man coming out first had sweat beads on his face and was puffing so much she thought he needed to be the one on the gurney. He blocked her view of Doug’s head. She couldn’t see how far the sheet was pulled up.

  She strained to look around him and saw her mother coming out. Her face was twisted with emotion. When she caught sight of her daughter, the feeling aimed at Maggie was unmistaken—pure, raw hatred.

  Despite the fire in her mother’s eyes and the steam Maggie swore was coming from her ears, she was relieved when she saw Doug’s face. It wasn’t covered, but he didn’t look good—not at all.

  “You stay here. I’ll deal with you when I get home!” Her mother literally spit the words out.

  Quietly, Maggie stood her ground. “I didn’t do anything,” she whispered. But it didn’t matter. Her mother either didn’t hear her or refused to hear her. She climbed in the ambulance and the flashing red light and obnoxious siren was gone within minutes.

  Maggie dragged herself back into the house. Light was just beginning to filter into the lower sky. She closed and locked the door behind her. She turned on every light. Doug was gone, but the fear of him was not.

  She bathed by filling the sink with water and using a wash cloth. She couldn’t stand in the shower with the curtain pulled closed blocking her view of the door. Soap in her eyes would obscure her vision and the sound of running water would muffle any other sounds within the house.

  She dressed for school, grabbed her book bag and went to the kitchen. After making a cup of coffee and putting the last of the few corn flakes into a bowl, she sat at the table staring at her meager breakfast.

  What had Ginger done to her? She prayed the fairy would take back her gift, but how could you abuse the gift of harm? It wasn’t a gift; it was a curse and she hoped it was gone. If Doug’s sudden collapsed was really caused by the fairy’s gift, then it was gone. Maggie wanted to spit on the table. She didn’t want Doug to come back, but she didn’t want the gift either.

  She threw her cereal out and dumped the coffee down the drain. Her head was pounding. She had exams today, and it would be tough to concentrate. She grabbed her bag and left the house leaving every light on.

  Maggie was sitting in the cafeteria after a long math exam. It was her favorite subject, but today, she hated it. The vision of Doug falling on top of her held all her knowledge of the problems and theories she studied in the back of her mind, and she struggled to call them forward so she could put them to use on the questions.

  She fought the tears that were forcing their way out of her eyes when she noticed someone sit down opposite her. She quickly wiped her face with the back of her hand. Her eyes met Charlie’s.

  “Are you okay?” Her voice was soft not only in volume, but the tenderness with which she spoke. It was enough to give Maggie the courage and calmness she needed to answer her.

  “Not really.”

  “I don’t want to sound crass or anything, but you look like hell.”

  “I feel like it too since I’ve been living there for a long time.”

  Charlie placed her hand over Maggie’s. “I get ya. Sometimes life feels like hell.”

  “No, you don’t understand. No one would understand.” Maggie shook her head and pushed her chair back.

  Charlie grabbed her hand tighter and held it. “Stay. Please. You need someone to talk to. Let it be me.”

  Maggie didn’t move.

  “I’ve been watching you….”

  Maggie stood up sharply. “Are you stalking me?”

  “Not like that.” Charlie retorted, and then smiled wide. “You seem to make choices that don’t work out really well for you.”

  “Oh, you mean Mike and Isabella? You got that one right.”

  “Not just that. This past year you’ve buried yourself in school work—literally. But instead of making things better, this hiding act you’re doing doesn’t seem to be working either. Look at you.”

  Maggie relaxed. At that moment she felt the heavy weight of her home life lift, if just a little. She sat down and sighed. “You should go to college to either be a therapist or a cop.”

  “Maybe I could combine them both.”

  They smiled at each other.

  “Now, you want to tell me what’s going on? I probably can’t help you, other than to listen, but sometimes that’s all it takes to figure things out.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Maggie walked home from school feeling better than she had in a long while, but conflicted as to what was waiting for her; running every scenario she could think of in her mind and the countless ways she could handle them.

  Two blocks away from her house she started to sweat. She had no way of knowing if her mom was home—she had left her phone there.

  After talking to Charlie—leaving the fairies out of it—she resolved herself to face whatever would come her way, and for the next year, she would run before she put her hands on anyone again.

  She thought about her conversation with Charlie, her searing blue eyes concentrating on every word Maggie spoke. Other than Aunt Agnes, it was the first person in her life who seemed genuinely concerned about her.

  But Aunt Agnes left her. She knew Charlie wouldn’t hang around either.

  When she entered the kitchen, her mother was sitting at the table, cigarette dangling from her fingers, an ashtray filled with several butts, and a half-drunk cup of coffee on the table. This particular scene was becoming the norm for her mother. This time, however, she was staring at the wall with blank eyes.

  “You killed him.”

  Maggie felt the weight of her sour life press her down once again. Doug was dead.

  “I didn’t…didn’t kill him. He came into my room.”

  “He wouldn’t have done that. Why would he go into your room? You’re lying.”

  “I’m not. He was evil. He was going to rape me.”

  Her mother jumped from the table and slapped Maggie hard in the face. “Don’t you dare talk about him that way. He loved me--really loved me, and you took him from me.”

  Maggie took a few steps back hoping to stay out of reach from her mother’s arm.

  “Mom, I didn’t do anything. I’m sorry he died.”

  “You have been nothing but trouble since you were born.” At that moment, the only emotion in her mother’s eyes was loathing for her daughter. “Get out of here. Now!” she yelled.

  Maggie turned and ran to her room. She slammed the door so hard she felt the walls shake. She needed to get away. There was no love in this house, especially not for her.

  She paced back and forth, her steps hard on the floor as she said, “This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be,” over and over again.

  The sound of a low cough interrupted her fit. She turned her tear stained face toward the door. Her mother was watching her intently. Their eyes locked for several moments with no wor
ds spoken.

  “You’ve got school tomorrow. Get some sleep.” Her mother closed the door.

  Maggie was so overcome with emotional exhaustion, she couldn’t react. Her limbs felt heavy, and her thoughts were so crowded, she couldn’t sort them out. She walked slowly to her bed and got under the covers. Within seconds, her eyes closed.

  In her dreams somewhere a phone was ringing. A female’s voice was talking. She tried to open her eyes, but fatigue kept them shut. There were faint, muffled footsteps as if on carpet. A door opened, and she tried to get off her bed, but she couldn’t move.

  He wasn’t dead. The sheet didn’t cover his face. He was coming for her. She knew it.

  “Margaret, wake up.”

  He was shaking her. She wanted to wake up. She wanted to scream.

  “Damn it, girl wake up.”

  Maggie’s eyes struggled to open as if someone was holding them shut. The voice and vision of her mother came into reality at the same time. She blinked to focus in on the person leaning over her registering that it was her mother and not Doug.

  “You’re late for school. Get going. You need to graduate and get the hell out of my house.” Her mother snorted as she left the room. “Never wanted a kid,” she murmured to herself, but it was loud enough for Maggie to hear it.

  “I know. I never wanted to be born to you either,” Maggie called after her and then immediately cowered under the covers. Any other time her mother would have been in the room with her hand raised before Maggie could get out of the way.

  Today, her mother didn’t come back in.

  Maggie got up, dressed and made her way to the bathroom but not without checking out her mother’s bedroom beforehand.

  Her mother was back in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  Maggie didn’t dawdle long enough for her mother to catch a glimpse of her. She didn’t stay in the bathroom long either. Ten minutes later she was out the door, backpack over her shoulder, and a piece of dry toast in her hand.