His Fairy Godfather

by Nico Jaye

  Edwin headed straight for the door.

  Bells tinkled as they entered, and Trick felt like he’d been transported into another world—a world where someone had blown up a unicorn. He’d never seen so much pink or glitter in one spot. The strippers of New York must be noticing a shortage, because the owner of this shop had clearly hoarded it all.

  Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and between them, silk wisteria gave the place an enchanted feeling. Gaudy, but enchanted.

  “This is incredible,” Edwin breathed, stepping farther into the shop. Trick followed him, his eyes trained on Edwin rather than the atrocity of frills and lace that was the tutu display.

  His mouth was slightly parted, his eyes wide as he explored the store, moving slowly from one display to the next.

  “Is there anything I can help you gentlemen with?” A woman who was 187 if she was a day stepped out from behind the counter and sashayed over to them. She was awfully spry for someone older than dirt.

  “We’re just looking, thanks,” Trick said.

  “You have an amazing store. All your items are quite lovely.”

  “Thank you,” she said, totally under the spell of Edwin’s weird charm. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. My name’s Glinda.”

  “Of course it is,” Trick muttered under his breath.

  She disappeared once more, and Edwin focused on what was in front of him: display shelves of fairy figurines of every size. Some looked to be made of porcelain, others were crystal. Trick had no idea there was such a demand for fairy figurines, but Edwin seemed to be completely enthralled.

  He picked one up and turned it reverently over in his hands. “The style of her hair is a little off, but surely this is Eleanora.”

  The words were murmured, almost inaudible.

  “What?” Trick asked.

  “Nothing,” Edwin replied, replacing the figure where he’d found it on the shelf.

  A display case with tiaras and magic wands stood to the right of the cash register. Edwin walked past and stopped in front of a large papier–mâché tree. From each twig hung a necklace. Edwin reached out and lifted one into his hand. He stared at it for a long time, a wistful expression on his face.

  A long silver chain held a tiny glass bottle filled with what looked to be, yep, more glitter. The sign above the tree read fairy dust, and Edwin seemed to be quite impressed by it.

  “This place is amazing,” he said at last.

  It was so weird. This guy, who was bigger than most of the guys Trick knew, was naïve and innocent. He had weird fairy fetishes and an insatiable appetite. The way he talked was fucked-up sometimes, but the more time Trick spent with him, the more time he wanted to continue to spend with him.

  Trick didn’t make friends easily—most of the time he didn’t have time for social interaction—but beyond that, there were very few people Trick could stand to be around for longer than a couple of hours.

  When he’d first offered to show Edwin around, there was a part of him that had dreaded committing to a full day with him. Now, although the day was only half over, Trick found himself wishing he could stretch it out.

  They spent a little more time in the shop, Edwin returning more than once to the tree that held the fairy-dust necklaces, before he finally said good-bye to Glinda and they walked back out to the street.

  “I’m getting kind of hungry again,” Edwin said, and Trick realized they’d spent nearly two hours in the shop.

  “Yeah? There’s lots of places around here to eat. You can take your pick.”

  “Which is your favorite?” Edwin asked, turning to look at him.

  It was mystifying, the way Edwin turned his full attention on Trick. Most people Trick knew spent their lives with their attention divided. Cell phones in hand, they scrolled or typed as they talked. Edwin wasn’t like that. In fact, Trick wasn’t sure Edwin even owned a cell phone. He hadn’t seen him use one all day.

  The way Edwin paid attention was intense, complete, and it made Trick feel like he was the only person in the city.

  “Uh, my favorite place isn’t around here. It’s up closer to me.”

  “Can we go?”

  “This hasn’t been much of a tour. You sure you don’t want to see some more of the city first?”

  “We can see more next time,” Edwin said, matter-of-factly.

  Trick smiled but didn’t comment on his presumptuousness. “We should probably take the subway. It’s not impossible to walk, but a train would be faster.”

  Edwin radiated happiness. “Let’s go.”

  PATRICK O’BRIAN’S was a little more upper than the Upper West Side, and only a few doors down from Trick’s apartment. It wasn’t exactly the classiest establishment, but dollar pitchers of beer, free pizza after nine, and local rock bands playing in the basement were all the draw Trick had needed to become a semiregular.

  They got off the train at 125th and backtracked the half block to the bar. It looked rough from the outside: the green shamrocked awning that covered the doorway had a hole torn in the middle to make room for the fire escape ladder that hung above it, and the neon signs that cluttered the windows were half-burnt-out. The paint on the building had seen better days, and the signs advertising events posted on the door had been there since the previous Cinco de Mayo, but the place was warm and unpretentious, and even better than that, cheap.

  Trick held the door for Edwin as he entered, his eyes like saucers while he took in the atmosphere that was more sketchy than it was welcoming. Trick nodded to the bartender whose name he didn’t know, but whom he recognized. They walked past, heading for the stairs to the basement.

  Red velour couches lined one wall, and there was a rickety stage opposite. It was Saturday but still early enough that the band hadn’t taken their place yet. The lower floor was less busy than the main, and the couches were a place for Trick and Edwin to sit and rest.

  Trick didn’t know when he’d ever walked as much. Being a New Yorker, he didn’t own a car, so his feet were his primary mode of transportation, but most days they only transported him between home and work, with a train in the middle to cut down on the physical exertion he was subjected to.

  “Wait here. I’ll go get us drinks,” Trick said, gesturing toward the couch for Edwin to sit. He looked unsure of Trick leaving him down there, but Trick assured him he would only be a minute.

  “Do you like beer?” Trick asked.

  “I don’t know,” Edwin replied, and Trick stifled his disbelief.

  “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Up the stairs he went, where he sidled up to the bar and the bartender who knew what he liked enough to have a pitcher of beer waiting for him. Trick slid a bill across the surface of the bar.

  “Could I also get the fruitiest, sweetest drink you have?”

  The bartender cocked one eyebrow but didn’t comment, instead nodding and bending down to retrieve a couple of bottles from beneath the bar. Trick watched as he poured and shook, and when he was finished, the glass he handed to Trick would have won for most flamboyant drink, even at a drag bar. He was sure Edwin would love it.

  Balancing the glasses in one hand and the pitcher in the other, he carried it all back downstairs to where Edwin was waiting. He barely noticed as Trick walked up, his attention focused on the guys playing Skee-Ball in the corner.

  He looked positively enthralled, and Trick wondered for the hundredth time where exactly this guy had come from. It was like he’d stepped into New York from another planet. It was both concerning and charming all at the same time.

  Chapter Eight

  “HERE, THIS one’s for you.”

  Tearing his gaze away from the fascinating sight of grown men cheering and groaning over the placement of a tiny brown ball into concentric white circles, Edwin looked up to see a very pink, very refreshing looking beverage thrust under his nose. There was a small pink umbrella piercing the lime wedge that bobbed on the surface amongst a cache of ice cubes. />
  “For me?” At Trick’s nod, Edwin grinned and took the glass. “This looks lovely. Thank you!”

  “Don’t mention it.” Trick took a seat beside Edwin on the couch and poured amber liquid into his glass. Extending the glass to Edwin, Trick quirked his lips. “Cheers.”

  When Edwin cocked his head, Trick laughed softly. “Like this,” he said and clicked the two glasses together. “It’s a toast. They don’t do those in Kansas?”

  “Oh! Erm, we do! But we say ‘Felicitations!’ where I’m from,” Edwin said, giving Trick a quick smile.

  Trick sent him a puzzled look before nodding. “Right.”

  When Trick took a slow sip of his beer, Edwin sniffed his pink drink. It smelled delightful with notes of coconut, pineapple, and fruity sweetness. Edwin found the straw with his mouth and took a cautious sip. His eyes went wide, and he heard Trick chuckle at his side.

  Ambrosia.

  “This is delicious,” Edwin said. He sucked the straw happily, and good Fairy! The drink was like an elixir of joy exploding on his tongue!

  “You might want to slow—”

  Blurrrble. Blurrble. Edwin stopped drinking when the rude noise made by the straw interrupted Trick. Lifting his hand to cover his mouth, Edwin glanced at Trick. “Pardon me, I didn’t mean to do that.”

  Trick laughed. “It’s fine. I take it you liked it?”

  Edwin nodded emphatically. “Definitely. I’ve never tasted anything like that before.”

  “You haven’t, huh?” With a raised eyebrow, Trick took another sip of his beer. “Well, do you want another of those?”

  “I quite enjoyed the first! I’ve never had beer before, though.” Edwin tilted his head. Beer was very popular with the mortals, and Trick looked like he was enjoying his. “Perhaps I should give that a try?”

  “Mmmm, beer’s kind of an acquired taste. You’re welcome to try it, though.” Trick held out his glass.

  Edwin took it from him and smiled. Feeling a bit self-conscious, he took a sip of Trick’s beverage, then immediately drew back in surprise.

  Good Fairy! That was awful!

  “Holy shit, your face.” Trick laughed as he took back the glass. “I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you it was really different from the other one.”

  Edwin rolled his tongue around, trying to get the flavor out of his mouth. He scoffed. Flavor—if it could even be called that.

  When he’d finally recovered, he met Trick’s smiling gaze. “I… I do believe I’ll stick to the first drink,” Edwin said meekly.

  Trick grinned and set aside his glass. “Right on. I’ll get you another one.”

  When Trick stood and pulled his wallet out of his pocket, Edwin was reminded of Trick’s finances—or lack thereof. Trick was proud and independent, but surely it would be appropriate for Edwin to buy his own drink. “Trick, I can go get it,” Edwin said, moving to stand himself.

  Trick gestured with his hands. “No, you stay there. I don’t want you getting lost in this crowd.”

  Edwin looked around and was surprised to see how crowded the space had become. Reaching into his pocket, Edwin drew out several folded bills and offered them to Trick. “Here, take this, then.”

  Trick’s brows rose to his hairline. “Edwin, you could probably buy the whole bottle for that. Besides, I can’t take your money. You’re a newcomer to my city.”

  Frowning, Edwin selected one of the bills—a twenty—and shook it in Trick’s direction. “Really, I must insist, Trick. You already purchased my first drink.”

  Trick hesitated and looked at the money. After a moment, he sighed and took it. “Okay. But this isn’t setting a precedent.”

  Edwin was quick to agree and watched Trick with a small smile as he made his way upstairs again.

  Turning his head back to the machine in the corner, Edwin watched the group—some men, some women this time—as they drank their drinks while one of them rolled the ball up the slope toward the numbered circles. A lazy smile rose to his lips. They looked like they were having fun. Edwin blinked slowly. The ball… had it grown in size? Or was it changing sizes?

  Edwin blinked again.

  No, the ball was the same size as before. The red lights that lit up on the scoreboard, though….

  He stared at them.

  They were pretty. So pretty, and the machine made noises that were cheerful chirps and bells.

  His tummy burbled. He was a bit hungry, actually, and those doughnuts—

  Mmmm… doughnuts. They were delicious. Square, round, filled, frosted. All of the doughnuts he’d tried had been wonderful.

  “Hey, look what I got.”

  Looking up, Edwin saw that Trick was here. He was smiling at Edwin, and he… he looked a little fuzzy, like he had a halo of light coming from behind him.

  Edwin sighed. How appropriate for Trick’s appearance to mirror the good person inside of him.

  Trick sat on the sofa and offered the pink-colored drink to Edwin. In his other hand was….

  Edwin inhaled deeply. Food. More delicious food, and it looked like it had cheese. Pizza, if he remembered correctly from Humanology. He’d never had it before.

  “You’ve never had pizza before?” Trick’s brows rose again.

  Apparently Edwin had spoken out loud.

  Edwin shook his head, then stopped abruptly. Oooh, that wasn’t pleasant. He shook his head again but knew now to do so more carefully. “No, but it smells heavenly.”

  “It’s cheesy, and it’s all yours.” Trick gave Edwin the square of pizza balanced on a napkin and took his seat. “They forgot to give me our pizza tickets when I got the drinks earlier, so I still have more to redeem if you want another.”

  Edwin took a bite of the pizza. Grease. Cheese. It was actually pretty good. He munched on it happily, his stomach feeling a little more settled with food in it.

  Once he finished the pizza, Edwin took a sip of his new drink, which this time had a blue umbrella. “Ahhh. What is this beverage called, by the way?”

  Trick was watching Edwin with a small smile. He cleared his throat. “Malibu Bay Breeze.”

  “Malibu Bay Breeze,” Edwin repeated to himself. “Malibu Bay Breeze, you are delicious.”

  Malibu Bay Breeze was so delicious, in fact, that by the time Edwin had finished his second drink, he was seeing sparkly stars, not unlike the cloud of fairy dust that would appear when fairies ported. Trick looked relaxed, his foot propped across his knee and the level of the beer in his hand steadily going down until he would refill it from the pitcher. After he finished it off, Trick went back upstairs and returned shortly thereafter with a full container of the brew and another slice, which he split with Edwin. Conversation was idle as they enjoyed their respective drinks.

  At one point, the machine in the corner was vacant, and Trick suggested they play Skee-Ball. Skee-Ball. Close up, Edwin could make out the small name on the scoreboard, whose numbers were backlit. After inserting coins, Trick stood back, his drink in hand, and gestured to the open lane with a smile. “Here, you can go first.”

  Edwin reached for the wooden ball and tried to clear his head. He rolled the balls in succession, trying to get somewhere that had points. His first game yielded 160 of them.

  “Hey, that wasn’t too bad for your first time,” Trick said encouragingly. “It’s not gonna win any prizes, but it’s definitely respectable.”

  “Prizes?”

  With a tilt of his head, Trick indicated a small sign on the wall. “Three-twenty and up wins you a basket of fries on the house. Three-fifty and up will get you a free drink.” Trick set his drink on the counter by the wall and flexed his arms dramatically. “I don’t know about you, Edwin, but I’m gunning for a win,” he said with a quick grin.

  Trick was much more proficient at Skee-Ball than Edwin. By the time he had picked up his eighth ball, Trick had already scored 230.

  “Ninety more points! Think I can do it?” Trick waggled his eyebrows.

  “Thuh-duh—” Edwin cl
eared his throat and made sure to enunciate. “Definitely.” If not by yourself, then maybe with a little help, Edwin thought. Hiding a grin, he stuck his hand in his pocket and felt for his wand.

  Trick bent to roll the eighth ball, then straightened as it went into the forty hole.

  “Woop! One more to go.” Trick grabbed the last ball. He rubbed it between his palms, then blew on it “This is the one. Here, blow on it. For luck.”

  Edwin’s brow creased before he shrugged. He blew on the ball, and Trick grinned. This must be a mortal ritual because the good Fairy knew breath couldn’t possibly imbue an object with luck. That required a very specific dust that was difficult to come by, even in Paravale.

  When Trick released the ball, he groaned, and Edwin could already tell it was off course. Staring at it, Edwin aimed his wand and watched the ball curve on the track, hit the lip of the fifty hole, and tip inside.

  “Wha—how—holy shit, did you see that?” Trick’s jaw dropped, and he looked back and forth between Edwin and the Skee-Ball ramp. Trick turned to squint at Edwin, who beamed at him.

  “I fink… tink… think you won!”

  “I did!” Trick blinked at the track one more time before a happy grin spread across his face. Both Tricks whom Edwin saw looked so carefree here at Patrick O’Brian’s. Edwin wanted Trick to be lighthearted like this all the time. When the Tricks turned to Edwin, he returned the look with a wide grin of his own.

  Edwin tilted his head at Trick. If he looked closely, he could manage to see only one of him. “Well done! Oh, and you’ve fish-finished your beer already! Would you like another?”

  Trick watched Edwin for a moment before his lips twitched at the corners. “I think I should quick… quit while I’m ahead. I already feel like I’m on a boat. How about I get our fries to go?”

  With a shrug, Edwin nodded. It sounded like the evening was coming to a close, considering the way Trick was setting aside his glass and herding him toward the stairs. Edwin looked around the space upstairs while Trick waited for his order of fries. The décor was dark wood that held the shine of many years of well-worn use.