AFTER AN UNEVENTFUL dinner, Sarah and Maggie chatted over the sink while they worked through the dinner dishes. And, once again, Albert and Jim settled in for another late evening of work.
The two had worked later than normal, and, as Sarah prepared for bed, she threw a blanket around her shoulders and padded in to check on the pair. She noticed their intensity and pace, no conversation between them, just a hushed concentration.
“Jim, how’s it going? Albert should get some sleep. And you as well.”
Jim kept his head bent to his task. “Still gonna be a while longer. I need to take these to the shop first thing in the morning.” He faced his son. “Albert, could you cut out the leather needed for tomorrow’s quota? That will allow us to move much faster tomorrow. I’ll put the finishing touches on these. Maybe tomorrow we’ll have an early night.” He forced a half-hearted laugh.
Their son sighed as he reached for the supple material. “Okay, Pa.”
After kissing each on the cheek, Sarah retreated to her room and piled on the blankets against the deepening night chill. She burrowed under the covers and was soon asleep.
In the middle of the night Sarah woke, shivering. Her bed was cold. She stretched out her arm toward her husband, but he wasn’t there. Lifting her head, she found the covers undisturbed on the opposite side. Once again she left her room in search of her husband.
Small puffs of air floated in front of her as she breathed. Her husband had not banked the fire. It’s like ice in here. There they were, son and father, fast asleep on the table, the boots finally finished. Her son had dutifully cut out the needed leather, the scissor’s handle still cradled in his hand. If he’d finished his task, she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t ask. After gently rousing him, she led him to bed and pulled off his shoes. Clothes and all, he went under the covers. On top of him, she laid two extra blankets, then left him to his dreams.
“Jim, come to bed.”
He shook his head, disoriented. “What?”
“You fell asleep. Come on.”
“Oh.” Jim glanced around the space. Even in the darkness she could see his shoulders drop and heard him sigh as he spotted the boots. “Ah, we’re done.”
“Looks like it.”
He moved stiffly toward the bedroom, took off his overalls and lumbered into bed.
Tomorrow would be a long day, for all of them.
The next day, Jim rose later than normal but still in time for oatmeal before they left for school.
“Jim, I’m letting Albert sleep in today and miss school. I’ll bring his schoolwork home. He can’t properly focus on his studies when he’s that tired.”
The lines in Jim’s forehead deepened. “I didn’t mean to keep him up so late. It’s my fault.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll be good as new in a few hours. I’m leaving the oatmeal to simmer for him. See that it doesn’t burn, if you would.”
Jim nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
She turned her attention to Maggie. “Time to go, sweetheart. Don’t forget your flowers.”
A short time later the two of them met the damp frostiness of the morning air as they trudged a path through a new layer of snow. They set an easy pace and soon found themselves visiting the faerie stones.
“Leave the flower petals, dear, and let’s go.”
After squatting and speaking softly to the tiny mound, her daughter sprinkled the rock circle with a thin layer of flowers. Sarah urged Maggie toward the school building. “Move along now, Maggie.”
For Sarah the day seemed to wear on. Lack of sleep caused her mind to wander, and she ached for the day’s end. Right at the bell Maggie dashed outside, flinging her coat over her arm after clearing the door. Sarah found her daughter sitting next to the faerie circle, examining pieces of rock in her hand. “What is it, dear?”
“Rocks, Ma. See?” Maggie held up her hand for Sarah to examine its contents.
“Hmm.” Sarah wasn’t sure what to say in answer to the pleading look in her daughter’s eyes.
“Ma, don’t you see? They left these for us.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows. “How can you tell, sweetheart? Maybe they fell from their ... house.”
“No, they’re different. Look closer.”
Sarah looked again at the rocks within the circle and those her daughter held. It was a fact after all. They were completely different. “I wonder why they’d leave rocks, Maggie?”
Maggie shrugged. “Not sure, Ma. But they only leave what we need. Everyone knows that.”
“Interesting. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take them with us, if you’d like to, dear.”
Maggie wobbled her head up and down in response, then pocketed the little treasures and headed toward home.
Upon entering the apartment, mother and daughter smiled as the warmth seeped through them. The sound of tools and machinery met Sarah’s ears. Looking around the area, she only saw Jim.
“Where’s Albert?”
Jim cleared his throat. “He got up for some breakfast and could barely hold up his head he was so sleepy. I sent him back to bed after he’d eaten, and frankly I’d forgotten about him till now. I’ll need to wake him though.” He paused to wipe the sweat beaded on his forehead. “Without his help, I won’t meet this order tonight.”
Sarah freed herself from the double layers cinched to her waist against the cold and hurled them aside, hurrying to her children’s room. Albert had tunneled under the covers with only his head visible. She laid the back of her hand against his forehead, then pulled it away, startled. He’s burning up. Holding her eyes steady on her son, she peeled back the layers of blankets. “Albert?”
He readjusted on the bed in response.
Sarah sucked in her breath, focusing on his arm now flung out from under the covers and exposed. Her worst fears had been confirmed. The outbreak had started.
MILLIONS OF THOUGHTS hit her at once. She’d been dreading this possibility since their skating outing over a week ago now. I’ve got to get his fever down. Maggie—need to move her out of here. The boots, we can’t finish the order, unless I can help Jim instead. If we don’t finish, Jim will lose his job and me too. We’ve probably all got smallpox now. I’ll need to tend to Albert for weeks and weeks, if he makes it. He must pull through! Then Maggie will be next, and most likely Jim and I shortly afterward. She took a deep shuddering breath and held on to the doorframe for support. Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Will we be evicted by Christmas?
“Jim ...” she said, her voice only a harsh whisper despite the urgency.
But, at the unusual tone, he turned and met Sarah’s gaze.
She nodded, silently acquiescing to her fears, and bowed her head.
Jim dropped his tools and enveloped his wife in a hug. They swayed back and forth, letting the horrible truth sink in.
Sarah pulled back, wiping her eyes with her hand. “I’ll go to the drug store. He’ll need something for the blisters. There will be a lot of pain.”
Deep crevices lined Jim’s forehead as he nodded.
Sarah spotted Maggie, staring at her parents, tears running down her daughter’s cheeks. Sarah bent and opened her arms. Her daughter came running. “I have a special job for you.” The beginnings of a smile shone on Maggie’s face. “Take a pan and fill it with the cleanest, whitest snow you can find. We’ll use it to get his fever down. Hurry, sweetheart.”
With a forced stoicism, Jim set back to work, his pace ruthless. Sarah moved Maggie’s necessities to the bedroom she and Jim shared. As she finished, Maggie reappeared with the snow. Albert moaned and shivered as his mother used rags and the melting snow to reduce his fever, reapplying every few minutes to cool down his body.
Later that evening, after a quick trip earlier in the day to the druggist, Sarah applied a poultice to the emerging blisters.
Even though it likely made no difference—as chances were they would all succumb—Sarah brusquely washed her hands, then prepared a light dinner. Her appetite was nonexistent,
but the others must eat, and her son needed some broth. Jim waved away food as he worked at a feverish pace of his own. After leaving a plate beside him, Maggie and Sarah sat at the table to eat, Sarah only nibbling at small bits and pieces.
When Maggie finished, Sarah sighed. “Now go get ready for bed in our room. I’ll be in after I tend to Albert. Solemnly Maggie obeyed, and minutes later disappeared to the bedroom.
STRETCHING HER ACHING limbs, Sarah adjusted herself in the chair beside her son’s bed. In the middle of the night Sarah woke. She’d fallen asleep beside him and had never made it to her own bed. She laid the back of her hand against her son’s forehead and released the breath she didn’t know she was holding. His fever was down. Thank goodness. As she rose to leave, she noticed on his bed a set of miniature rocks and a tiny little pouch on a string. I wonder where Maggie got these.
Sarah left her son to head to the main room. The sun peeked through the thinning curtains, shining its light on the row of finished boots. She roused her husband, asleep at his workbench, and kissed his cheek. “You finished. You must be exhausted.”
He sat up and glanced at the shiny shoes, gleaming with fresh polish, and shook his head as if confused. “I didn’t,” he said, as he stared blankly at the fully assembled boots. “I was five pairs short, I think, when I fell asleep. Not sure how they got done.”
“Hmm.”
A soft giggle met their ears as Maggie poked her head between her ma and pa. “It’s the faeries!”
“Maggie, that’s just silliness,” Jim said as he faced his daughter.
Sarah raised her eyebrows. “What’s your explanation then, dear?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have a clue.”
“Come here for a minute, Maggie.” Sarah pointed at the collection of small rocks on Albert’s bed. “Did you leave this here?”
Maggie shook her head. “Nope. It was the faeries. Just like the ones we found by their circle. See? The rocks go in the pouch. Then he should wear them. Maybe it will help him get better.”
Sarah’s smile felt uncomfortable on her face. “Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt.” She said a silent prayer. It is Thanksgiving after all.
THE DAYS AND NIGHTS blended together with Sarah’s focus on Albert’s round-the-clock care and Jim’s focus concerned with work to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. Both watched for signs of smallpox in their daughter, knowing it had to be coming.
As feared, Sarah had lost her teaching job due to the full-time care needs of her son. It seemed only a matter of time before their money ran out. With only one income, they couldn’t pay the landlord the monies due by the 22nd of December.
Day after day their little miracles lingered however. Maggie continued to leave tiny gifts for the faeries, and, in return, items appeared on the chest of drawers to place in Albert’s amulet, and whatever materials were cut out for boots and unfinished at the end of the evening were magically completed the next day.
To increase production Jim changed his focus to cutting leather for as many boots as he could during the day. Each morning the sparkling new books had been expertly sewn together and polished. Still, without the incoming money from Sarah’s teaching, they wouldn’t have the total needed for rent.
It was the 23rd of December. The eviction notice hung on their door for all to see. They were ordered to vacate the apartment in one day. Jim sunk his head into his hands and counted the shortfall again. “Even with the little bit of extra income from boot sales, we’ve lost that and more due to spending so much on medicines.” His voice broke. “We’re not gonna make it, Sarah.”
Sarah reached for her husband’s hand and squeezed tightly, bowing her head. At least Albert appeared to be improving. “Where will we go, Jim?” she whispered. “It’s almost Christmas.”
He folded his wife into a hug. “For now, let’s head to the schoolhouse. The kids are out for winter break. We’ll stay warm and dry and, God willing, well. I can’t think of another option.”
“I’ll pack the suitcases we have in the morning with the necessities. Let’s wait to tell the kids tomorrow. I don’t think I can face it tonight.”
Jim nodded. Confronted with his equipment that it took years for him to save in order to buy, he buried his head in his hands. What will we do now? With a deep sigh he straightened, then cut out the remaining leather he had for the faeries, now assured of their nightly visits. The last little bit. All he could do was in front of him.
Morning dawned, and Jim and Sarah were up and packing before the children woke. Jim and Sarah had agreed on what they would take; it was now just a matter of methodically getting it done.
Maggie stirred under her covers. “Ma, I don’t feel very good.”
Jim and Sarah locked gazes. The final straw.
Sarah knelt by the makeshift bed in their bedroom and pulled back the covers, revealing what she’d dreaded, the beginning of smallpox blisters. “Let me get you some medicine and a bite to eat. Then, my sweet girl, we’re going on an adventure.”
Tears filled her daughter’s eyes. “I’ve got it, right? I’ve got what Albert’s got?”
“Maggie, your Pa and I, and your brother and you as well, are all going to visit your faeries in a little while. But you must keep up your strength so you can walk there with us.”
Her daughter’s face contorted. “Really, Ma?”
“Really. Now eat up. Pa’s brought you some broth.”
Jim followed his wife when she left the room. “Do you think it wise to fill her head with that?”
Sarah turned on her husband as she stifled a sob. “What’s wrong with a little hope? From where I stand, over the past few weeks, the only good that’s come to us has been through channels I can’t even begin to understand or explain. And it looks like it’s all that’s left for us. Maggie needs something to cling to. It might as well be that. We have nothing else.”
The foursome—heavy laden with coats, blankets, and suitcases—plodded their way through the darkening streets. Maggie leaned on her mother for support and Albert on his dad. Each carried a full-to-bursting suitcase with all they had in this world.
The last set of boots exchanged for cash left them with a little bit of money to buy food and medicine, while they bided their time for whatever next steps had to be taken.
The city was ablaze with the colors, sights, sounds, and merriment of the holiday season. As they trudged through the snow, these reminders were another crushing blow that their world was caving in while the community celebrated.
As they neared the school building, Maggie murmured under her breath, “The faeries. Stop and see the faeries, Ma.” The four kept moving, Jim in the lead. Sarah feared any loss of forward momentum may make the next step their last.
Finally they made it to the faerie circle, and, with the school building in sight, they dropped their bags. Maggie was the first to notice the ray of light spilling from the rock structure. In the surrounding darkness between the buildings, it provided a beacon-like presence to the faerie abode. She crouched down and peered through the light.
“Ma! I can see them! Come look.” Jim and Sarah exchanged a glance, their mouths agape. Albert stumbled forward, plowing into his sister. Within the instant of one small shove, Maggie disappeared.
Albert blinked. “Ma? Pa? Where’d she go?” Albert groped the ground as he slowly advanced on his knees. Sarah bent down, her hands on her son, watching his path forward. In the next minute Albert’s form fell into the light with a sparkle.
Only Jim and Sarah remained.
Jim grabbed his wife. “What’s happening?”
Sarah didn’t want to admit that privately, during school hours, she’d researched faerie lore. She knew, per folk legend, that this time of year was one of the four during the year when the faerie realm and those of humans overlapped. She searched her husband’s eyes. “I don’t have the answers, but I’m not leaving them to fend for themselves.”
Jim took his wife’s hand, then leaned in a
nd kissed her softly. “Let’s go after them.”
The pair inched forward, hands clasped, unsure where their next steps would lead them. But, only seconds later, like the difference between night and day, they found themselves in a lush green forest, their children giggling just ahead at the tree line.
A woman dressed in green, who easily blended with the scenery, approached them. “Come. Eat your fill. You will find the food appetizing, and then you may rest for a time.”
Jim and Sarah exchanged a glance.
“Where are we, and who are you, if you don’t mind me asking,” Sarah prodded.
“You are in another time and place, for now apart from your human world. And I’m known by many names, but you may call me Lady of the Grove. Join your children. Eat, rest, and be healed of what ails you.”
Jim took a step forward to shake the lady’s hand. “We don’t have much to pay.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his small wad of cash.
She shook her head. “Your money has no value here. There are other ways to show your appreciation, as you’ve already done for our kind. Come now. We will talk of the future later. You and your family are well. Join in the celebration of Yuletide with your children. Be merry. Tomorrow is another day.”
Sarah and Jim called to their children, then waded through the green meadow to the giant wooden slab serving as a tabletop and carved in the shape of a tree. They gave thanks with tears in their eyes as they beheld their healthy children before them and then ate of the bounty from the heavily laden table. Later, under the stars, they dosed, pleasantly full, and surprisingly worry free.
“If, in the morning, we wake up in the city, at least we’ve had this Christmas respite. It’s been a gift,” Sarah said.
Jim leaned over his wife.
She saw his eyes twinkle in the darkness.
“And if not?”
A smile formed on her lips. “Well, what an adventure we’ll have.”
“Until tomorrow,” Jim whispered.
Hand in hand, nestled in the softest bed they’d ever experienced, they slept.
The Fae of Boots and Laces Page 3