My Fairy Godmonster

by Denice Hughes Lewis

  “I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “In order to remind you of the importance of minding me, you will miss dinner tonight,” she reprimands.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “What do you think?”

  “You are not my father. You have no right to punish me.”

  “I am in charge until Charles returns.”

  Weasel pauses. Her voice gets soft and creepy. “You do not want to make me angry.”

  I stalk toward the back door. “I’m talking to my brother about this.”

  “I wouldn’t. You do want him to get married?” she asks.

  I freeze. Can she stop the wedding? Looking into those eyes and that satisfied smile, I believe she can do anything.

  Claire glides into the room and hugs me. I almost burst into tears, but won’t cry in front of Weasel.

  “Winifred, I’m sorry you didn’t get to go with your dad. We’ll make it up to you. Would you like to go shopping tomorrow? Mom has a dozen errands for me.”

  Weasel says, “Her father has left her quite a bit of responsibility.”

  “Surely, she’ll have some time?” asks Claire.

  Weasel glares at me behind her daughter’s back. I remember Dad’s orders about behaving and hold back the words I’d like to yell at her.

  “Thanks,” I say. “Until I get into the routine of the extra chores, I’d better not. I’m going to bed.”

  “You haven’t had dinner!” Claire exclaims.

  “I don’t feel so good.”

  “Is there something I can do?”

  “I’ll be okay with a little rest. “‘Night.”

  “Goodnight,” says Claire, frowning.

  I have visions of drowning Weasel in her own chili as I leave the kitchen.

  I hear Claire ask her mother, “Did you say something to upset Winifred?”

  “Of course not.”

  No wonder Daria lies. I run upstairs and slow to a walk, reading Weasel’s first list. Household chores include dusting, vacuuming and cleaning bathrooms, the dishes, laundry and the ironing. Weasel’s chores are cooking and contacting the caterers.

  I don’t want to look at the other list. Well, maybe a peek. I gasp. Wash all windows, shampoo all carpets, polish the silver, wash and/or polish the floors, clean the refrigerator and oven. I am only one person. Do I get to sleep?

  I slump down the hall. Hear footsteps and turn around. Daria is sneaking behind me. Godzilla creeps on the floor at her side.

  “You’re supposed to keep the cat locked in your bedroom.”

  She whines, “Your dad isn’t here. Besides, Gazella needs exercise.”

  “Cats sleep sixteen hours a day.”

  “She’s bored.”

  “You’re bored.”

  “There’s nothing to do around here,” pouts Daria.

  “You could help your mother in the kitchen,” I suggest. “Or if you want to help me in the stable or cleaning the house, you can.”

  Daria lifts her nose into the air. “I don’t work.”

  I hear a low growl and turn to see Fairy Godmonster’s red claws curving around the attic stairwell.

  Daria’s eyes grow huge in terror.

  “EEEEKKKKK!”

  Godzilla hisses and races down the hall, tail flying and ears laid back. Daria flees, trips on Godzilla and sprawls to the floor. The cat rolls to the top of the stairs.

  “Gazella!” yells Daria. She reaches for the cat. Godzilla rolls down the stairs.

  “Meowrrr!”

  “No!” screeches Daria. She hurries after her cat.

  “Serves them right.” Fairy Godmonster laughs.

  I want to know how to laugh like that and still look sexy.

  “Did she see you?” I ask.

  “Only my claws.”

  “I thought you told me nobody’s supposed to see you,” I say.

  “Monsters bend rules. Besides, who’s going to believe her?”

  I follow her into the attic and lock the door behind us. The drums beat louder. Leaves rustle in the trees. A seven-foot monster that looks like a cross between a leopard and gorilla pokes out its head. Green eyes stare at me. It roars and slinks down the limb. I hardly breathe.

  “F-Faro?” My voice wobbles. “W-what’s that?”

  “Oh, did he come too? That’s a Lapilla.”

  The spotted gorilla head sneaks closer. Its leopard paws are as big as my head.

  Fairy Godmonster growls. The black fur on the monster’s neck stands up. It backs into the trees and disappears.

  Suddenly, everything is too much. My knees shake and my head swirls. “Make it go away.”

  Fairy Godmonster pulls out her whip. With a crack, the natives and their drums disappear. The whip fizzles, leaving behind the jungle and Lapilla.

  “How utterly annoying. I thought FIMM was fixed. You need help and I need to get home.”

  Fairy Godmonster throws the whip across the room. It hits the wall like a bullet, bores a fist-sized hole through it before it disappears outside.

  “Oops.”

  “Oops? How am I going to explain that to Dad!” I exclaim.

  She goes to the window and starts to climb out.

  “Stop!” I shriek. “You can’t go out there now! Everyone’s still up!”

  “I need my whip.”

  “You should have thought of that before you threw it.”

  Fairy Godmonster growls.

  I close my eyes. Tears straggle down my face and I wipe them away angrily.

  “I thought you didn’t cry,” Fairy Godmonster says quietly.

  “You read minds, too?”

  “No. I may be a Fairy Godmonster, but I recognize the need to keep your emotions private. Has something happened to upset you?”

  “Other than the hole in my wall?”

  “Drop the sarcasm,” says Fairy Godmonster frowning. “Retrieve my whip and then you can tell me all about it.”

  I sneak out the front door, find the whip on the grass and return to the attic.

  “Thanks,” says Fairy Godmonster, snatching the whip from my hand. “Now, out with it.”

  I tell her about Dad leaving and about Weasel’s lists and no dinner.

  “Sounds like she belongs in Monsterdome!” exclaims Fairy Godmonster. “Can’t wait to meet her.”

  “What!”

  “Oh, chill. She won’t see me. Especially when my whip gets fixed.”

  I throw myself onto the bed. “I hate that she’s cooking, but her chili smelled good and I’m starving.”

  “What’s your favorite meat?” Fairy Godmonster asks.

  “Steak.”

  “Good choice! It’s the only thing I have with me. Of course it’s Tingroc steak.”

  I don’t want to know what a Tingroc is.

  She reaches in her pocket and pushes a series of buttons with one painted claw. The NTMT chip chirps.

  I get dizzy as the room spins. The rest of Mom’s furniture appears in the jungle along with a refrigerator, a table, two chairs and two place settings.

  Fairy Godmonster opens her refrigerator. It’s completely full of red meat. She pulls out two large pieces and plops them on the plates.

  Lapilla roars and leaps out of the jungle. It picks up the refrigerator and shakes it.

  Fairy Godmonster growls. Lapilla grunts, drops the refrigerator and backs away. She pulls out two steaks and throws them into the jungle. Lapilla leaps after them.

  She sits and says, “Dig in.”

  I stare in shock as she raises the first red bite to her tiny white fangs.

  “I can’t eat raw meat. Don’t you have an oven?”

  Her smile sags. “No.”

  I throw myself on the bed, blinded by the colors in the jungle overhead.

  There’s a knock on the door.

  “Win, you okay?” asks David. “Claire said you weren’t feeling well.”

  “I’m okay, just tired.”

  “I want to see for myself. Ope
n the door,” he demands.

  I don’t suppose he’s going to leave, so I drag myself off the bed and unlock the door. I stick my head out.

  “Why are you locking your door?”

  “I need a space in this house that is all my own. I don’t want Daria in here.”

  David puts his hand on my forehead. “No fever. Don’t you want some dinner? The chili is delicious.”

  “Could you bring me some? I don’t want to face anyone right now.”

  “What’s going on?” he asks in concern.

  He looks so serious that I don’t have the heart to tell him about his future mother-in-law.

  “I’m disappointed that I didn’t get to go with Dad. And hungry.”

  “Dinner coming up.” He hurries down the stairs.

  “Nice butt,” says Fairy Godmonster.

  “Yuck. Don’t say that,” I moan.

  “Well, it is.”

  “You’re making me a wreck,” I say.

  David returns with a huge bowl of chili smothered in cheese and onions. Two large slices of baked bread steam on the plate next to it. I take it from him.

  For some reason, my eyes get watery.

  “Thank you, David.”

  “Sure, Win. Need anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Get some rest. John and I will meet you in the barn at six.”

  “‘Night, David.”

  I wait until he leaves to take the food inside. I set it on the table and dig in.

  “You could slow down and offer me a taste.”

  “Sorry, Faro. Help yourself.”

  She lifts a spoon and I try not to stare at her four fingers.

  “Mmm. I might have to try more cooked food.”

  “Do you kill the things you eat?” I shudder, not really wanting to think about it, but needing to know.

  “I’m a fairy! We don’t do things like that,” she sniffs. “All of our supplies come from FIMM Central. Organic and simulated.”

  I give her a slice of bread and finish the chili. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

  Fairy Godmonster sighs. “I’m not spending another day alone.”

  “You weren’t alone.”

  She grins. “I’ll try to get my whip to work.”

  Cinderella didn’t have these problems. Why do I?

  The NTMT chirps and the fridge and dinner things disappear.

  “What else do you have in that thing?” I ask.

  “Travel necessities. You’ve seen my exercise equipment. I also carry clothes, food, restraining devices - ”

  “What!”

  “Some of my clients are difficult to handle,” she replies.

  “Don’t tell me any more.”

  “My, aren’t we grouchy. Get some sleep.”

  I climb into bed and set the alarm for 5:30 a.m. I want to get downstairs and out of the house before I have to see Weasel.

  Lepilla sticks his head out of the leaves.

  “EEK!” I leap to the floor. Shake uncontrollably.

  “Don’t worry, he’s harmless,” Fairy Godmonster says putting her arm around me. I tingle from her touch.

  “How do you know?”

  “No teeth. His were rotten and the Tooth Fairy pulled them out.”

  “He could swallow me whole or claw me to death.” I shiver.

  Fairy Godmonster laughs. “I’ll be right beside you.”

  “That’s supposed to make me feel safer?”

  She frowns. “At least the Bogeyman won’t get you.”

  “Well, that’s a comfort.”

  “Sarcasm pinches your face,” she says.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble.

  “You should be.”

  I pull the covers up. “‘Night, Faro.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  I stare into the trees above my head, but don’t see Lepilla. I wonder if I’m going to survive the night.

  Chapter 15: Slippery When Wet

  I open my blurry eyes and squint in the bright sunlight. Where is my pillow? I moan and turn over with difficulty.

  Lapilla’s sleek leopard paw hangs across my shoulder. Gorilla eyes stare into mine.

  “EEK!” I scream.

  Lapilla shrieks.

  I leap onto Fairy Godmonster. She sits up, knocking me out of bed. I almost crash to the floor. Her hand snatches my arm and lifts me back like I was a feather.

  My heart thumps like it’s going to pop out of my chest.

  “What’s going on?” Fairy Godmonster removes her eye mask.

  “That monster was sleeping next to me!”

  “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

  The alarm goes off.

  Lapilla roars and jumps to a tree. Brown poop drips down on my pillow.

  “Eeuuww! Gross!” I leap off the bed, shivering and holding my nose.

  “What’s that?” Fairy Godmonster groans.

  “Monster poop.”

  “I mean the noise,” she says.

  “The clock alarm,” I answer.

  “Monster nights are much longer,” she moans.

  Still shaky, I get dressed.

  “See you later, Faro.”

  She rolls over grumbling, “Much later.”

  “Please don’t leave this room. And clean up the mess.”

  She puts on her eye mask. “Fairy Godmonsters don’t take orders.”

  “Fine. Enjoy the smell.”

  I sneak down the stairs. I’m relieved that nobody’s up. I hurry out the kitchen door.

  Kong jumps up and down when I enter the stable. I feed the horses grain and let them into the pasture. Two geldings, six mares and three colts thunder away. The dawn streaks through their flying manes. Breath catches in my throat. Running horses are the most beautiful sight in the whole world. They stop and put their velvet noses to the grass. A wave of loneliness sweeps over me. I miss Dad. We always watch the horses together.

  I go inside to muck out their stalls. I have two finished and the bedding in place by the time David and John arrive.

  “Hi, Sis! You’re an eager beaver,” says David.

  “Got a lot to do today.”

  “You must be feeling better,” he adds.

  “Yeah.” Wish I had as much enthusiasm as David. But then, I’m not getting married.

  “Show me the manure.” John laughs and picks up a rake.

  I laugh with him.

  With two men to help me, it doesn’t take long.

  “Can I talk with you privately?” I ask David.

  “I’ll be in the kitchen eating your breakfast, David.” John smiles and saunters away.

  “What’s up, Win?”

  “How much are you going to be able to help me with stable chores?”

  “We’ll help you muck them out twice a day.”

  “I still have to exercise most of the horses. Either by riding or on the hot walker,” I say.

  “How many hours a day?” he asks.

  “Dad said I could cut it down for the next couple of weeks, but it will still take a little over three hours. That’s not counting the grooming after.”

  “Give me a schedule. I’ll put the horses on the walker and groom them, if you ride and groom the others.”

  “I’ll alternate them. We’re not going to put the two pregnant mares on the hot walker since their foals are due after the wedding.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s get some breakfast. I have a lot to do to get the garden ready.”

  I’d forgotten about the garden. “Are you going to change it much?” I ask.

  “I have to add quite a bit.”

  “Like what?” Anger shoots through my head.

  “Benches to seat at least two hundred guests, a few trees and the rest I’m keeping secret. I’ll be blocking it off.”

  My throat gets dry. I croak, “When?”

  “When the plants arrive and I finish with the building. The deliveries are going to be late.”

  “Why can’t you have the ceremony somep
lace else on the ranch?”

  David turns me to face him. “I know how much the garden means to you. I would

  never do anything to change the essence of it. I promise, you’ll love it.” He pauses. “Mom will, too.”

  I hold back the tears. What is the matter with me? I’m turning into a wimp.

  He grabs my hand. “Let’s eat.”

  “Mrs. Dudley gave me two lists of housework that have to be done before your wedding,” I tell him.

  “Claire can help during the day and I’ll help in the evenings. It can’t take that much time.”

  “You didn’t do much cleaning at school, did you?”

  He grins. “No. One of our roommates had that chore.”

  “I thought so.” I follow him into the kitchen and sit down.

  Weasel has breakfast on the table and everyone is eating.

  Mr. Dudley smiles over his pile of bacon and eggs. “Being in the country sure gives you an appetite.” His phone rings and he turns it off.

  A glimpse of a yellow jumpsuit glides past the doorway. Fairy Godmonster is riding in-line skates. I choke on my bacon.

  “You okay?” David asks, patting my back.

  “Yeah.” I take a drink of milk, hand shaking.

  Claire asks, “Are you sure you don’t want to go shopping with me, Winifred? Dad’s ordered a limousine and there’s plenty of room.”

  “Thanks, I have to exercise the horses.” My voice shakes.

  Claire frowns. “Maybe we can go another day. When I get back, I’ll help you with the housecleaning.”

  “I want to go,” Daria says. “It’s boring here.”

  “I don’t know, Daria,” says her mother. “You don’t like shopping.”

  “I never get to do anything with my sister.”

  “You never wanted to before,” says Claire.

  Daria stares at me defiantly. “I do now.”

  Mr. Dudley says, “Oh, let her go, Erminia. Once Claire is married, they won’t see each other very often.”

  Weasel’s fork stops halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean, Otis?”

  David adds, “I thought you knew, Mrs. Dudley. I’m starting my landscape architecture business here in Oregon.”

  She turns pale. Her mouth tightens. “No, I didn’t. I assumed you would be coming back to Boston.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” says Claire. “Daddy said he was going to tell you when he gave us his wedding gift.”