by Susha Golomb
“Don’t look down,” Poppy said.
I looked down.
“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god,” I blathered. I closed my eyes and kept flapping for dear life.
“Isn’t this great?” Poppy’s voice was next to my ear. “You can open your eyes now. We’re high enough.”
I closed my eyes tighter.
“Come on, Miriam. Open your eyes and swoop.”
“How?” I risked squinting one eye open just a little. One glimpse and my eyes popped open the rest of the way by themselves. The whole neighborhood was laid out below me. I must have been five or six stories high.
“Don’t look down,” Poppy said. “Look up.”
Cautiously, careful to keep flapping, I looked up.
“Ahhhh.” I relaxed. I must have still been flying, but I hardly noticed.
“Hey, nice swoop,” Poppy said.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. I’ll see you back on earth. Just don’t lose track of where your grandparents’ house is.”
“Huh? …Okay,” I finally said. “…Bye.” Poppy was gone. We were alone. Me and the universe.
The stars weren’t really any closer. But they were bigger. The whole sky was bigger – and fuller. I never knew there could be so many stars. They were blinking and twinkling and …shooting. The meteor shower was in full swing.
I flew higher.
CHAPTER 32
HER NAME IS ROSE
It was easy. I felt beautiful and graceful and powerful all at the same time. It was a lot like swimming underwater. And I didn’t have to hold my breath.
I raced the stars across the sky.
It was the best thing that ever happened to me. It was probably the best thing that ever happened to anyone.
I had no trouble finding Grandma and Grandpa’s house when I was ready. I let myself down onto the chaise longue and stretched out, every muscle tired and relaxed.
“Hi, Poppy,” I said dreamily.
“So, how do you feel?” Poppy asked.
“Like I’m sixteen years old and somebody just handed me the keys to the car. I can’t believe it. It’s like I’m a different person.”
“Yea, it was like that for me, too.”
“What was different?” I asked.
Poppy thought for a moment, then said,
“I guess if I had to describe it in a word, I felt bigger.”
“Me, too. I definitely feel taller.” I jumped up, squared my shoulders and stretched my neck up. “Do I look taller to you?”
Poppy stood also, stretching out to her full six inches. She started at my feet and slowly moved her gaze upward till it reached my head.
“You look humongous. You’re asking me if now you look more humongous?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask someone else.
“Let’s go to bed,” she said. “You looked wiped.”
“I guess I am pretty tired,” I answered. “But I don’t think I can fall asleep.”
“Trust me,” said Poppy. “Just get into bed. I give you about twenty seconds, tops.”
“You know, Poppy,” I said as I climbed into the futon. “I was upset because all this time, I thought everyone in the family was keeping secrets from me.”
“Oh, Miriam, we all understand how you must have felt. We just want you to be okay now.”
“When Grandpa told me that I never had a sister, I didn’t feel like she never existed. It felt like she did and now she was dead.
“But you mustn’t feel that way.” Poppy was upset. “You must make yourself understand that she was someone you made up.”
“Just listen for a minute,” I said.
“I was thinking up there that maybe she does exist. Maybe I’ve just been looking for her in the wrong place.” Poppy lost it.
“Get real, Miriam. I exist. Your sister doesn’t.”
“But, all this love I feel. It can’t be make believe. It’s not that kind of love. It belongs to someone. Someone outside of me.
“Besides,” I said slowly. “I can prove that I have a sister. I know her name. Her true name. She was hidden from me, but now that I know her name, I know who she is.”
I looked Poppy straight in the eye and told her what I had learned from the stars.
Miriam and her mother Rose were sitting side by side on the old swing set in their back yard. Their inside hands, loosely clasped together, kept the gently rocking swings in sync while they talked.
Miriam was home, her newborn wings folded up. Out of sight even in the halter-top she was wearing.
I stayed hidden behind some chairs on the deck. It’s a lot harder to listen in on conversations once people know you’re listening. Fortunately, Miriam doesn’t realize just how good my hearing is.
So life is a little more complicated now that Miriam and I are on speaking terms, but it’s a lot more interesting.
“It’s very sweet, Miriam,” her mother was saying, “but I’m still your mother. I’m not really your sister, you know.”
“I know that, Mom. But you’re the person who was actually missing, even if it was before I was born. I missed you and Daddy so much when I thought I couldn’t talk to you. I thought that losing my sister made you crazy and if I could find her, our family would be okay. But you weren’t crazy and you weren’t keeping secrets. I thought I needed someone else. You were there all the time. I just didn’t know it.
“Next time, ask. Okay?”
“I did ask.”
“Well…next time I’ll listen. You ask. I’ll listen. Deal?”
“Deal.”
EPILOGUE
All I heard for the next minute or two was the squeaking of the swings. I had already begun the delicious deliberation of which pillow to select for my next nap, when they started in again.
“Grandpa didn’t seem to know exactly how you were able to break the spell and come home,” Miriam said to her mother.
“We never did,” Rose answered. “It wore off.”
“That must have been awful,” said Miriam, horrified. “You could have drowned.”
“Not really. The spell wore off almost a year before Mom and Dad my adopted mom and dad realized what had happened. Melvin and Flora are two of the best magic users in their community, but they never figured out how to reverse the spell and then when it finally wore off, even they didn’t notice. It was precisely because my fishtail didn’t go away when the spell did, that it took them so long to see the change.”
“You mean you could still be there? I could have never been born?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. I’m convinced that if I had been adopted by anyone but Melvin and Flora, I would probably still be a happy little fish girl.
“Did you have any sisters and brothers?”
“No, I was their only child. And you, my dear, are their only grandchild. Speaking of which…”
Miriam’s mother stopped the swing and took something out of her pocket. It was too far away for me to see what it was. I would have to get closer. I switched into my best sneaky stalking mode and headed for the Japanese maple next to the swing set.
“Miriam,” Rose said. “How do you feel about Tefnut’s suggestion that you visit Ailuria this summer?”
I twitched my ears. My muscles tensed up and set themselves onto maximum attention. This is it.
“Are you kidding?” Miriam said. “It’s a dream vacation. No parents and all the cats I can cuddle…”
Yes! I could feel my fur frizzling with excitement all along my spine. My own dreams were about to come true.
“…but I don’t know about this queen stuff. It makes me nervous just thinking about it.” Miriam turned, twisting the swing, so she was facing her mother. She was also looking down at her.
“It’s my life, you know. I want to decide what I want and when I want it.” Miriam was so intent on her words that she didn’t realize that her wings were talking, too.
“Great,” Rose said. “But settle down. It makes me nervous when
your tush doesn’t touch the seat.”
“Oops, sorry Mom,” Miriam floated down and tucked her wings back in.
“Anyway,” she said. “I decided that I’m not going to Ailuria when school is out.”
THUMP.
“What was that?” Rose said, turning to look at the Japanese maple. “It sounded like something fell out of the tree.”
“Hey, look, there’s Tefnut,” said Miriam who spotted me quietly slipping away. “Hey, Tif. Did you just fall out of that tree?”
“Certainly not,” I said. “Cats never fall out of trees.”
Nor, I muttered under my breath, are they obliged to tell the truth, if it compromises their dignity.
“I just happened to be passing by.” I said casually, turning and walking over to the swing set. “Did I just hear you say something about not visiting Ailuria?”
“No, you did not,” she said to me. “I only said that I wouldn’t be going right away. There are some other people I want to see first.
“Mom,” Miriam said. “What I really want to do is visit my other grandparents. I’m ten years old. I have wings. As soon as school is out, I’m going.
“That is,” she said sheepishly, “right after you tell me how to get there.”
Rose smiled and held out the box in her hand.
Miriam opened it. Inside was a silver chain with a dull green-gray bit of something attached to it.
“It looks like a fish scale. What is it?”
“It is a fish scale. Melvin and Flora gave it to me when I returned to my birth family, so that I could come back and visit them whenever I wanted.”
“You mean, if I wear this, I can breathe underwater?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“Can I go tomorrow?”
“No. You can go when school is out.”
“Aww, Mo-om.”
“You know, Miriam,” Rose said. “Normally, I wouldn’t consider a trip like this until you were at least 13 or 14.
“But, hey …you’ve got wings.
“Besides …I trust you.”
#####
THE FAIRY GIFTS
Book 2
OUT OF PLACE
It is a little known fact that fairies have pockets in their wings for the occasional small but important things they must carry with them. Miriam Mermelstein was not a fairy. However, her cat Tefnut was half magic and able to claim a certain advantage in this area. Tefnut was also an expert at plotting, conniving and long term planning As a result, Miriam was currently in possession of a regulation pair of wings, complete with pockets.
PROLOGUE
I found Rose sitting cross-legged on the garden swing reading a book, leaning back and forth just enough to keep the swing going. Using my best stalking technique, I crept over so quietly, that even the grass didn’t know I was there. Then, with the perfect timing of which I am undoubtedly the master, I jumped and landed next to Rose, without the slightest interference in the rhythm of the swing.
It’s what I do.
It’s not my way to start a conversation, so I tucked in my paws, curled up my tail, and made myself comfortable, enjoying my moment of total invisibility. While the early spring sun warmed my fur, slowly, lovingly, penetrating all the way down to my bones, I waited.
Eventually, Rose got the subliminal message, put down her book and looked to see whose eyes had been boring into the back of her head.
“Oh, Tefnut, it’s you. Don’t watch me like that, it makes me nervous.”
“We have to talk.”
“Okay, now I’m really nervous. This had better not be about Miriam.”
“It is.”
“Oy! Wait, I’m getting Ben.”
“Now we’re both here,” she said after Rose and Ben were both settled. “Talk.”
“…Its not the being there that worries me, Tefnut,” Rose was saying. “Its the getting there.”
“She has her gifts,” I answered. “There won’t be any problems.”
“Miriam lacks the experience to make good decisions,” Ben said. “Her little bag of tricks and a pair of grafted on wings will only get her into trouble. She won’t be able to manage them properly. She can’t go alone.”
“Oh yes she can,” I said
CHAPTER 1
WING POCKETS
The minute I unfolded my left wing, the ocean wind, obviously confusing me with a kite, grabbed it and pushed. I was reduced to hopping all over the road just to keep my balance while Mom and Dad zigzagged along behind trying to catch up.
“She’s headed your way, Ben,” Mom, called. “Quick, grab her.”
“Hang on, Miriam,” he hollered. He grabbed. The wind changed. Dad missed and landed on his tush, while I was blown, spinning and bouncing, like a badly launched kite, in the opposite direction.
“Open your other wing, honey,” Mom, already huffing and puffing, wheezed out, “so we can catch you.”
True, two wings would be better. At least I would be pushed in a straight line. But, this wing thing was still new to me. For sure, with both wings open, I would be blown up and away like a lost umbrella.
“Miriam. Sit.” Dad’s insight came from the fact that his recent effort had left him in a similar position.
I sat. Mom grabbed me and helped me tuck my wing back in. Then we all walked over to the car, propped me against it facing into the wind and started over.
This time I spread the wing out against the side of the car and let the wind blow all it wanted while I took Mom’s necklace out of the left wing pocket. Wing pockets don’t have zippers. They keep things in by being very tight. It’s never good to be in a hurry to get something out of a wing pocket.
I had two fingers in and could just feel the chain with the tip of one finger. A little further in and I had it hooked. Using my free hand I stretched the pocket a little wider – not too much, or it hurt – so that the delicate charm wouldn’t be damaged as I pulled it out.
“You know,” I said when I finally got it out all in one piece. “There’s a reason that whoever invented wing pockets isn’t famous.”
Hanging from a silver chain was my ticket to the Twilight Zone, disguised as an ordinary fish scale. Out of the water, it looked thick and dull. It was a part of the ocean. A place where I didn’t belong. But I was going there anyway.
My first big trip away from home. Am I going to Grandma’s on a plane? Off to summer camp on the other side of the country? Nooo, nothing so ordinary for me. I’m going to go and play with the fishies. All by myself.
“Let me, dear,” Mom said. I handed over the necklace and pulled my wing back under my shoulder blade where it stayed nicely hidden. Mom got behind me and straightened the back of my t-shirt while I pulled my hair out of the way. She put the necklace around my neck and closed the catch, finishing with a reverse hug, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and nuzzling my hair. I could feel wet tears soaking through to my scalp.
“Now, you remember how to use the necklace?” she sniffed. “Do you need me to show you again?” I wiggled free of her damp embrace.
“Mo-om! I remember.”
Dad went right into high-speed lecture-mode. A sure sign of parental distress.
“Don’t forget,” he said. “You’ll be perfectly safe as long as you stay under the water. Fairies, including mermaids, are not on the food chain and that’s exactly what everyone will think you are. Oh, and don’t say ‘mermaid’ when you get there. It’s not considered polite. The preferred term for double breathers is Sky’. Don’t forget. And don’t forget to give your grandparents the photos we gave you. And call,” he added. “Whatever happens…Don’t…Forget…To Call.”
“Okay. Okay. Why are you so worried? You’re the ones who spent the last four days convincing me how safe I’ll be underwater.”
I was not about to admit to them that my heart was pounding so hard I could feel the ka-thumps bouncing off my eardrums. They would both jump at any excuse to cancel this trip.
My parents
are normally pretty intense anyway, but we just spent three days cooped up together in the car. We were now as far south as you can get without a passport and Mom and Dad are a wreck.
I spent three days sitting by myself, in the back seat, listening to music and rereading my old Harry Potter books. Boring, but not crazy-making. Mom and Dad spent the same three days together in the front seat, getting on each others nerves and worrying themselves into a frenzy.
“Come on, let’s do it,” Dad said with his cute crooked smile. “I want to see the Great Transformation.” He turned to lock up the car. Mom wiped her eyes on her sleeve and took my arm. Dad put the keys in his pocket and took my other arm. With me squeezed tight in the middle, we stepped off the pavement onto the deserted beach and started walking across the sand to the sea.
It was only the middle of June. But even with the umbrella-grabbing wind off the water, the weather was a lot warmer than anyone expected. Only the wind kept it from being sweaty-hot. I opened the drawstring pouch that hung like a mutant fanny pack at my waist.
“I’m starving,” I lied. I wasn’t hungry, I was nervous. “How about a snack from the sampo.” One at a time, I pulled three ice cream cones out of the bag: Rocky Road in a sugar cone for Mom, the family chocoholic; pistachio in a fancy waffle cone for Dad, the gourmet chef; and vanilla with rainbow sprinkles in a plain cone for me. It’s what I always get. Dad held his ice cream at arm’s length and looked at it like he was pondering a great work of art.
“Rum raisin, right?” I said, already taking out a new cone. Rum raisin is Dad’s other favorite flavor.
“Mmmmm. I think so,” he said thoughtfully. I handed him the replacement and shoved the unacceptable pistachio cone, ice cream first, back into my bag.
“Ahh. Instant gratification,” Dad said, slurping happily.
“Ewww, Miriam,” Mom squealed. “How are you going to clean that out.”
“No problemo. Here. Hold this.” I handed her my vanilla cone so I could use both hands to turn the bag inside out. It was empty…and clean. “See. My sampo is self-cleaning.”
“What happened to the photos for your grandparents?” Dad asked severely.
“Easy. Magic, presto, change-o.” I turned the bag right side in and pulled out a small plastic photo album.
“I’ll never get used to you having that thing,” said Dad.