Jazmine

by Clay, Verna

  "My home."

  "Where is your home?"

  "In Bend."

  "My God…where in Bend?"

  "I don't know; the taxi is taking me there."

  The man uttered a profanity.

  "You shouldn't talk like that."

  "You're making it difficult not to."

  Jazmine opened her mouth to speak, but could think of no reply. Turning on her heel, she started walking toward what she hoped was the museum parking lot.

  "You're going the wrong way."

  She stopped, glanced around, and saw the deer family a short distance away. She started toward them.

  After several steps, the rude man called again, "Hey lady, I'm sorry, okay? Look, why don't you let me take you to someone who can help you? Do you have a phone number of family or friends?"

  Jazmine turned back around. "No, I am perfectly capable of completing my assignment. Boss-at-the-Top wouldn't have sent me if he didn't have faith in me. Good day."

  "Suit yourself, lady. I don't have time to play word games."

  Jazmine ran toward the waiting deer. The man's words and presence were unnerving and she had wasted precious time talking to him. When she heard his automobile roar; however, the temptation to turn and watch him drive away was irresistible. She watched until his car disappeared in the distance.

  Stumbling backwards over a rock, she regained her footing and started toward the deer family again. They leapt into the forest.

  "Wait!" Jazmine ran after them. When she reached the spot where the deer had disappeared, a glint of reflected sunlight caught her attention. Rounding a stand of pines, she saw a parking lot a short distance away.

  "Yes!" she shouted to the trees. There were several dozen cars and she searched for a taxi. One of the classes taught at Fairies-in-Training School had been about taxis. They were yellow in color, and cost a lot of green paper that was called "money" to ride in. Money had been another subject exhaustively covered. Teacher-fairy had reiterated over and over that it was impossible to operate in the human realm without it. In a panic, Jazmine reached into first one pocket, and then the other of her human clothing. Relieved, she pulled out a wad of green paper. Shaking her head in disbelief, she frowned at the significance humans had given it.

  Returning her attention to the parking lot, she looked for a yellow vehicle with a sign on top that said, TAXI.

  After scanning the parking lot twice, she was disappointed. There were no yellow TAXI cars.

  "Hey lady! You lookin' fer a cab?"

  Jazmine turned toward a short man with a big belly standing beside a blue vehicle. The door was painted with the word, TAXI.

  "Why isn't your car yellow if it's a taxi? And why isn't there a sign on top," she asked when she reached him.

  He gave her a strange look, and replied, "I'm breakin' the mold."

  Jazmine didn't understand his answer. But instead of wasting time pursuing understanding, she decided it was more important for her to reach her destination. "I want to go to Bend."

  "Okay, hop in."

  "Huh?"

  "Hop in. Let's go. I got another stop to make after I drop you off."

  Puzzled, Jazmine walked to the door he held open and, with difficulty, hopped while lowering herself into the back seat.

  The taxi driver muttered something unintelligible and slammed the door. He opened his own door and slid inside. "Where to, lady?"

  "Bend."

  "Yeah, okay. Where in Bend?"

  "Oh, um…" Jazmine tried to recall the address she had memorized from her instructions. "The address is…the address is…"

  "Any day, lady."

  "No, I need to go there today.

  "Go where, lady?"

  "Bend, Oregon."

  The man turned around and his face was so red that Jazmine felt concerned for his health.

  "Where in Bend?" he said slowly and evenly.

  "Oh, I got it now…I want to go to 1111 Airplane Butte Circle."

  "Where?"

  "Oops, I mean—Pilot Butte Circle. Sir, are you feeling okay?"

  Five

  Jazmine looked out her left window, her right window, the front and back windows. The human realm was fascinating. When she asked the driver how to open her window, he grunted—something he did often—and said, "Just push the button. Where are you from, Lady, another planet?"

  "Well, actually no. I'm from this planet, but I'm a…." Jazmine swallowed the word before saying it. Revealing herself as a fairy was not prudent. How could she have been so reckless? I've got to think before I speak.

  The driver looked at her in his rear-view mirror and she heard him grunt again. Finding the button near the handle, she pressed it. Leaning her head out the window, she watched pines whiz past, and sighed, taking deep gulps of the blended fragrances of sage, juniper, and pine. Heavenly.

  After a short drive, they entered the outskirts of Bend. Soon she would be arriving at her temporary home to begin her assignment.

  While the driver maneuvered through the city, Jazmine took note of a large hill sparsely dotted with pines and juniper bushes. "Perchance is our destination near that hill, sir?" she pointed.

  "Yep."

  Jazmine's heart beat double time. Her new home was close, and so was Jake. Maybe he would be playing outside.

  The driver turned onto a street near the big hill and turned again. The street sign read, Pilot Butte Circle. Jazmine held her breath. He pulled to the curb.

  "Here you are, Lady."

  Jazmine read the address, 1111. She looked at the houses on both sides of her house, wondering which one was Jake's.

  "You gonna pay me Lady?"

  "What?"

  "You gonna pay me. You know, like in money."

  "Oh, yes, of course." Jazmine reached into her pocket for a handful of the green paper and handed it to the driver.

  "What the hell! You rob a bank or something?"

  "I would never do that," Jazmine replied, indignant.

  "I was jokin', lady. Here, take your extra money back. I'm keepin' my tip though."

  The driver handed Jazmine most of the green paper back and quickly opened his door. He rounded the vehicle and opened Jazmine's door. Stuffing the money he'd returned back in her pocket, she stepped onto the sidewalk. When she turned to say goodbye, the driver was already swerving away from the curb.

  Six

  Jazmine glanced up and down the sidewalk. Except for an elderly woman watering her roses across the street, the neighborhood was empty. Directing her attention to the home in front of her—her fairy-on-assignment home—a thrill raced up her spine. It was adorable. A large white porch ran the width of a forest green house decorated with white shutters. Flowers of every color bordered the walkway to the porch.

  Jazmine sniffed and held her breath before releasing an appreciative, "Ahhh." She searched for her namesake. Following the scent, she located the jasmine vines growing up and over the fence enclosing the back yard. The jasmysters were doing a fabulous job, and she made a mental note to praise them when she returned to her clan.

  She walked to the steps of her porch, but stopped before climbing them. Glancing at the homes on either side of her, she again wondered which one was Jake's. She decided it must be the one on her right; a bicycle haphazardly blocked the walkway and toy cars and trucks were scattered across the porch. She smiled. The house on her left was too neat and tidy to be the home of a precocious little boy.

  Reaching into her pocket, she felt for the key from Boss-at-the-Top. Holding her breath in anticipation, she crossed the porch and unlocked the bright red door. Stepping inside, she moved past the entry and into the front room. Unopened boxes were stacked neatly throughout, and several pieces of furniture, including a couch, two chairs, several small tables, and an assortment of lamps, filled the space. Moving into the combined dining and kitchen area, she saw more boxes stacked beside a rectangular, cherry wood table with six matching chairs. A matching buffet completed the furniture. She stepped
to the window next to the table and pulled the drapes wide. There was a side yard with a fence separating her home from Jake's. She smiled because that fence was also clothed with jasmine.

  Walking from the dining area into a large kitchen, she smoothed her hand over exquisite countertops. The polished marble felt cool against her palms, and she traced her fingertips across the swirling patterns designed by nature over eons. Inspecting the kitchen cabinets, she opened and shut doors before moving on to the stove. Excitement bubbled when she realized she could actually bake something. Teacher-fairy had been very thorough in his cooking instructions.

  Beyond the kitchen, she located a bathroom and a laundry room. Returning to the living room, she climbed the stairs and investigated three bedrooms, another bathroom, and even another bathroom in one of the bedrooms. A large window in the largest bedroom overlooked Jake's house. She pulled the drapes aside and looked down into his front and back yards. There was a partially covered patio in the back with more toys scattered across the portion visible to her. The grass in the backyard was overgrown, and the bushes and shrubs needed trimming. Branches from a maple tree and an oak tree spread out, touching one another. A rope ladder hung from a tree house in the oak tree.

  Jazmine was just about to close the drapes when she noticed movement in the tree house. Stepping to the side of her window, she peered around the fabric. A young boy moved to the opening and sat, his legs dangling over the edge. Jazmine's heart leapt. She was seeing Jake—her assignment—for the first time.

  Seven

  Jake carefully glued the broken wing of the balsa wood glider back in place. He held it together for several seconds so the glue would stick. When he was satisfied it would hold he opened the bench seat his father had handmade when he'd built the tree house. Gently, he placed the glider inside. The airplane had been broken since the day of his mother's death. He and his dad had been testing it out in the park when a gust of wind knocked it into a tree, breaking the wing. Lifting Jake into the tree, his dad had assured him they would fix it when they got home. Fixing the airplane had been forgotten when they saw a police car at the house.

  Jake had been scared when he'd seen the two officers. His dad had sent him next door, but he'd already known something terrible had happened by the faces of the policemen. From the neighbor's window, he'd watched his father rush away. It was late that night when his dad returned. Jake could see he'd been crying. When he'd told Jake his mother had died in a car accident, Jake had hugged his father and cried too. After the funeral, Jake had stored the airplane in the bench seat.

  Since his mother's death, Jake's father hadn't been the same. They no longer did fun stuff together. His father was always sad. Jake was sad, too.

  He didn't know why he'd taken the airplane out and glued it back together now. He'd kind of gotten glue all over the wing. If his dad had repaired it, it would have been perfect. Jake sniffed. He didn't want to cry. Crying was for babies.

  Instead of going into the house where his sitter was watching some dumb love story on TV, he decided to sit in the opening of his tree house and dream about him and his dad flying gliders again.

  A flash of movement in the upstairs window of the house next door caught his attention. He saw a figure dart to the side of the window and peek at him. He pretended not to see anything, but looked out the corner of his eye. The figure stayed at the edge of the window. It was kind of creepy.

  Jake had watched furniture and boxes being unloaded from a moving van the day before. The furniture and boxes seemed to be the usual stuff. Jake wondered if that was just a cover up. Maybe a spy had moved in next door. He wanted to share the weirdness of someone peeking at him with his father, but he knew his father wouldn't care. All his dad did was work, eat, and sleep. They never did anything fun anymore. Jake sighed.

  Ryan gazed out the darkened window in his office. He made a final entry in his computer and signed off. Stretching, he rotated his shoulders and winced. He had been sitting too long in one position. Opening a desk drawer, he retrieved his briefcase.

  The design plans for the expansion of a home in the Sunriver community outside of Bend were coming along nicely. The retired couple who owned the home had called him earlier that week and asked for an estimate. They had already interviewed several architectural firms about an addition to their home, but another Sunriver resident had recommended him. He'd redesigned the former client's kitchen shortly before Annie's death. Ryan's throat constricted. He remembered how Annie had inspired the design. She'd been an avid cook. Her dream had been to attend chef's school when Jake was older.

  Ryan passed a hand over his face. He didn't want to think about the past. Instead, he conjured up the image of the crazy woman crossing the highway that afternoon. He almost laughed when he remembered her inane conversation. "Do you know Boss-at-the-Top, too?" What kind of question was that?

  For all her crazy talk, she'd been interesting to look at. She wasn't beautiful, or even pretty in the strictest since of the word. She was small, with average brown hair, and average facial features; except for her eyes. They had been exotically tilted upward and a striking shade of blue. Or was that lavender? He decided it was somewhere in between. The effect of her gaze had shocked him at first, and then it had unnerved him. Why that was, he wasn't exactly sure, and he didn't want to speculate.

  Ryan turned his thoughts to Jake. He would be in bed by now. The familiar feeling of guilt washed over him. Since Annie's death, he knew he hadn't given Jake the kind of attention he needed. But caring for Jake only made the hurt of losing Annie that much worse. Instead of a hot poker burning a hole in his heart, it felt as if it had exploded and there was nothing left but pain.

  Gathering his belongings, Ryan switched off his desk lamp. Unbidden, he remembered the blue-lavender eyes of the woman. Sighing, he locked his office door and closed his mind to her.

  Jake heard the automatic garage door open and close. His father was home. He listened for the familiar sound of him entering the house. He always had trouble sleeping until he knew his father was safe at home. When his mother hadn't come home, the reason was because she was dead.

  He listened to the sound of his father talking with Jenny, his sitter. He hated the fact that his father insisted he have a sitter. No amount of arguing would change his mind, though.

  A few minutes later, he heard his bedroom door open and he pretended to be asleep. He always pretended. He felt his father sit on the side of his bed and stroke his forehead. "Night, Jake," was all he said, and left the room. Jake's eyes burned. He wouldn't cry. Crying was for sissies. So what if his father didn't hug him and tell him he loved him. He was too old for that anyway.

  Jazmine couldn't sleep. There had been something unbearably sad about Jake sitting alone in the entrance to his tree house, his legs dangling over the side. She'd watched him from the edge of her drapes until he'd climbed down and entered his house.

  Her job was to reunite father and son. Her assignment had purposefully been designed to encompass the holidays because it was hoped that the magic of the season would assist in her endeavor.

  Jazmine planned her strategy. She would learn to bake fabulous Thanksgiving and Christmas dishes. She would decorate her house for the holidays and plan parties for Jake and his father and neighbors to attend. She envisioned a beautiful Christmas tree with twinkling lights, glittering tinsel, and lots of presents.

  The excitement of planning the holidays kept her awake until the early morning hours. She wished Phossy was with her to share ideas with.

  Eight

  Jake woke early. He always did on Saturdays. He wondered if his father would stay home and do something with him or leave for his office.

  As usual, he was disappointed. Running to the top of the stairs, he heard the garage door slide up, and then the car back out. Jenny bounced into the open space below the stairs dancing in jerky movements to whatever was playing on the iPod in her ears. She was popping the sugary contents from a cereal box into her mout
h in time to the beat.

  Jake sighed. Then he thought about the restored airplane in his tree house. The glue was probably dry. He'd wanted to show the plane to his father, but it didn't look like that was going to happen. He decided to retrieve it and take it to the park where he and his dad used to have so much fun together. He'd test it out himself!

  Ignoring the instructions from his dad to always let Jenny know where he was going, he quickly dressed and sneaked out the French doors onto the patio and ran to the rope ladder hanging from his tree house. He was about to climb up when he remembered being watched the day before. He bent over and pretended to tie his shoelace. From that position, he glanced sideways at the upstairs window next door. He didn't see anyone.

  Forgetting his plane for the moment, he walked back to the patio. Slinking sideways against the wall, he edged toward the fence separating his yard from the neighbor's. He was the only one who knew the location of the loose plank. Much to the irritation of Jenny, he used it whenever he wanted to escape. It drove her crazy that he could run into the backyard and literally disappear in a matter of seconds. She hadn't told his dad about his disappearing act, but it was probably only a matter of time until she did. He hoped it was soon. At least that might get his dad's attention.

  Groping through the overgrown vines covering the fence, he pulled the board slightly toward him and then pushed it to one side. He slipped through the hole. The vines on the other side kept him well hidden. A tiny flower tickled his nose and he almost sneezed. The sweet smell made him think about happier times with his mother and father—times when they'd BBQed in the backyard. He almost smiled at the remembrance. It was crazy, but the smell of the flowers didn't make him sad.

  He pretended he was a spy with the FBI and carefully parted the vines. Directly in front of him was the dining room window with wide open drapes. There were a couple of pine trees between him and the window. Taking a quick breath, he scooted out of the vines and ran to flatten himself against the trunk of the first tree. After a few seconds, he chanced a peek around it. With a hammering heart, he sucked another breath and ran to the second pine. When he thought it was safe, he crawled to the window. Edging to one corner, he stood on a rock for a better view. Peering inside, he saw the room was crowded with boxes, some opened, but most still taped shut. Beyond the dining room, there was a large kitchen with a center island.