Beyond the Firefly Field (25 page)

He daydreamed about the places he would go if he could leave his body, then quickly blushed with embarrassment when he realized what he was thinking. He gave the others a quick look, hoping they didn't have a clue where his mind was wandering. But his friends were still busy talking, so he started listening to keep from thinking.

“…so we already knew. Right, Clayton?” Penny asked for confirmation.

“What?” he questioned, now certain he was turning red with embarrassment.

“Weren't you listening again?”

“No, I was thinking instead.”

“I was telling them we knew about growing even smaller when we went into the peepers' hall with SeeLee,” Penny explained, bringing him up-to-date. She was growing tired of his spaciness.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “The branch wasn't that big, but the rooms inside were really huge. We must have gotten smaller just going through the door, but we couldn't feel the change happening. The rooms further up the branch looked as big as the one we were on, but I knew that if I climbed, I'd get even smaller. I wasn't comfortable with that idea.”

“It didn't bother me until we were looking for Penny,” Karl admitted. “Then I started losing track of how small I thought I was compared to my original size. When I realized I would soon be the size of something easily squashed like a bug, by a bug, I almost turned around and went back. Then we ran into Kast and Penny, so I didn't have to find out how much stranger I would have felt.”

“You baby!” Penny taunted. “I was a hundred times smaller than that when I was at the lake, and I didn't think anything of it,” she bragged.

“That's because you didn't think about it. You're lucky. If the concept had crossed your mind, you probably would have fallen into the lake. You must have been much smaller than a grain of sand,” Karl trailed off. “And anyway, you're small to begin with, so it's a lot easier for you. You understand small,” he debated, gearing up for a heated rebuttal from Penny.

“No matter how small we get, the fairies are a constant reassurance that we're safe,” Phil said.

“Unless you consider being eaten by a monster when it wakes up,” Paul argued back.

“Or being pooped on by a bird when you're standing on a branch,” Brian added.

“I saw some really big dried poop blobs on those branches,” Ron joined in. “And you really don't want to get hit on the head by bird poop that's bigger than your head.”

For several minutes they all laughed uncontrollably as they pictured anyone but themselves being in the wrong place at the wrong time and getting plopped on.

“Well, okay,” Phil admitted. “Safe, except for stuff like that.”

Their voices quieted, the sound of rain assaulting the roof taking over. It offered a background to whatever fairy memories whirled during a long silence.

He wondered what Wendy was doing right now. Two days before their dinner, she had been chosen to replace a student in the foreign exchange program who had fallen ill. He was horribly heartbroken as she suddenly disappeared from his life with a brief goodbye in school. It had seemed too good to be true when she'd wanted to hang out with him. He was going to get to know her. He was going to take her to the fairy tree. And that kiss! She had kissed him on the lips, and it made him melt. And now she was gone.

Glancing at the dismal scene out the window, he suppressed a shiver brought by the chill in the air. He was tired of seeing five colors of gray blanketing the sky. He wished the sun had peeked out today. Feeling tired and lazy, he started to sit back down.

“Put another log in the wood burner while you're up,” Penny said. “It's getting cold,” she added, gathering her jacket around her.

“Don't put too many in there. It gets to ninety degrees in here too quick, and we'll have to open the windows again,” Paul warned.

Clayton gave the woodpile a lazy look and slowly picked up a couple logs. As he approached the old wood burner, he thought about the two days it took them to install the fiery beast. They had decided to cut a hole in the floor of the room, and hoist the wood burner straight up with pulleys hanging from the ceiling. Both floor and ceiling had to be strengthened to support the one-hundred-fifty pound ancient fireplace.

Using a diagram he drew, Karl showed how the heavy iron wood burner would seem to weigh only fifty pounds when lifted with a pulley. It still took all of them to hoist the heavy load. Karl forgot to add a mechanism to tie and hold the rope so the wood burner could stay suspended above the floor. To make up for the oversight, everyone had to take turns holding the rope while a thick piece of plywood was moved to cover the hole in the floor. They put a layer of scrap brick on top of the plywood, then finally lowered the wood burner to its new resting place. They were exhausted after the effort and didn't finish the stovepipe work until the next day.

The twins' father insisted he come and inspect their work after hearing the boys planned to start fires in their tree house to keep warm. He helped cut the correct length of stovepipe and found the safest place to locate it. When he saw that the wood burner was positioned in a corner of the room, he went home and returned with thin metal plates to put between the stove and walls as a heat barrier.

Clayton opened the door of the firebox and stirred the coals before throwing new logs into the blaze. He looked out the window once more and said, “It's been raining for so long, I think half the snow's already melted. I don't think it's even a foot thick anymore. I hope we get an early spring.”

“It's just the middle of March. You can hope all you want, but it could still snow two months from now.”

“Thanks, Karl. I didn't need the reminder.”

“How come there can't be snow fairies?” Penny complained.

“Their wings are so thin they would quickly freeze. Then they would break like glass if the fairy moved,” Karl explained.

“Well, maybe they could just stay on the branches and wear little mouse-fur coats.”

“I bet they never thought of that,” Brian retorted with a grin. “You should tell them next time that you see them, Oh Penny, most wonderful Queen of the Universe.”

“Oh, shut up!”

They all wanted an early spring and an early summer, leading to an early firefly sighting and a trip back to visit the fairies. They still lamented not being able to see them once more before winter set in. After their last trip to the fairy tree, they had no doubts that they would be seeing them a few more times. But an early harvest kept them busy with farm chores for almost two weeks. After that, it rained every day for ten days straight. Snow fell on the last two of those days, and everyone feared they wouldn't see the fairies again.

Nobody asked the fairies what they did when the winter settled in, or if they moved to another tree in a warmer climate when it got cold. In the back of his mind, Clayton always worried that the fairies would flee to a new location because their secret was in danger. Now he also worried the fairies would abandon the tree when the dragons woke up.

They were all suffering from fairy separation anxiety. And it was getting worse. There was nothing they could do but wait for the spring thaw, which would move them closer to firefly season. Knowing they had months of waiting ahead made them even more anxious. It was a vicious circle of agony.

To keep occupied during the winter months, they already planned a schedule for keeping a lookout on the upper platform of the tree house and rigged a large bell to ring at first sighting of the fireflies. They were determined to organize their lives so they could visit the fairy tree every night it didn't rain. They would do whatever it took to spend as much time as they could at the fairy tree,
if
the fairies were still there.

Clayton thought back to the day they'd found the fairies gone. They awoke to a thin showering of snow and collectively began to fear the worst. But the temperature climbed during the day as they quickly completed their chores. It was a Saturday, and as the afternoon turned sunny and warmer temperatures melted the snow, their hopes began to build. They met at the tree house early, or so they thought. The sun was setting earlier as winter approached, and they hurried along the slippery trail to reach the firefly field as fast as they could.

They had made the trek to the fairy tree, excitement warming their bones. A light frost covered the grass. As they trudged along, he felt a strangeness stirring in his stomach. While everyone chit-chatted about seeing the fairies, he somehow knew that they wouldn't be there.

And he was right.

The seven of them stood in the frosty field, staring at the dead tree in silence. The field was completely empty of fireflies. The whole field smelled like cow poop, and the grass had been flattened by the herd of cows that were now in their barns for the night.

When the field grew darker and still not a firefly was in sight, the kids crossed to the fairy tree. When they arrived at the tree, there were still no fireflies, and worse, no fairies. No lamps flickered, no booths bustled, no fairies pranced on branches, and no fairy wings glistened in the air.

They called SeeLee's name, but she didn't appear. Then they shouted every fairy name they could remember, with the same sad result. Not even a helper came out to help. With sinking hearts, they stepped closer to the tree, then past the spot where they would have gotten smaller. Nothing happened. They stayed the same size. For a long moment, no one moved or spoke, as if being frozen would change what was happening. It didn't, and their hearts began beating faster with fear.

Phil finally knocked lightly on the branch. No one answered. After another minute of motionless silence, Karl reached to touch the bench they used so often in the summer months. He tried to unfold the little perch, but it crumbled in his fingers and they all backed away.

“SeeLee!” Penny called once more. She stood there with tears in her eyes, shivering in the autumn wind. It had never occurred to her that the fairies wouldn't be there, or that she might never see them again.
This must be how a broken heart feels,
she thought, choking off a sob.

Clayton stared at the tree, imagining the fairies bustling about, their colorful wings sparkling. Yes, they had defeated Mike. Yes, they had saved the marshland, but what did it matter now? He couldn't even tell the fairies of their accomplishments. He dreaded heading home without seeing them, as if that action would be a final acceptance that they were gone.

The defeated group headed back across the field enveloped by total darkness.

They realized then that they wouldn't be seeing the fairies for a long time, if ever again. A bleak sense of devastation crept into their hearts as they walked silently home. Each was lost in memories of SeeLee, or Kast, or MarJoReAn, or SanDroMonEnLor, or any fairies they knew. Every remembrance brought renewed heartbreak. Finally, he was jarred from his memories as somebody spoke.

“Tell me again about the part where we might get eaten by monsters,” Rose demanded, breaking the silence.

Unknown to the others, Penny had been telling Rose, her best friend at school, all about the fairies ever since her first trip to the tree. None of the new girls in school wanted to venture into the woods, but Penny desperately wanted Rose to join her in this adventure. Of course Rose didn't believe her.

After days and days of providing extensive details of her trips to the fairy tree, Penny showed up at school broken-hearted about the fairies disappearing. After that, she was sure Rose decided the fairies were real and was determined to see them, too. So, Rose started going with Penny to the tree house. The boys thought it was okay for Penny to share the fairy secret; they had each other to talk with about the fairies, and they knew Penny needed someone to talk with, too.

Everyone gladly shared their memories of fairy tree adventures with Rose, eagerly answering her questions. It was as if telling someone new reinforced the experience for them. Besides that, they needed to be sure they didn't sound too crazy when talking about the mythical creatures, and they didn't get too carried away with their descriptions, which could lead to a lot of teasing.

“Don't worry,” they all said at once, answering Rose's repeated demands to know what to expect at the fairy tree.

“Why did you even tell her about getting eaten?” Clayton asked Penny.

“Because it was mysterious and dangerous,” Penny shot back.

“Hey! I just thought of something,” Karl proclaimed. “We never asked SeeLee if she was kidding when she told us about being eaten.”

“You're right,” Brian agreed.

“Kidding?” Rose questioned.

“She's always messing with us or trying to scare us,” Paul explained.

“Not always,” Phil argued.

“We're just not sure when she is or isn't teasing,” Penny added quickly to cut off further argument.

“Well, don't let it bother you,” Clayton advised. “The fairies would never let anything bad happen to us.”

“It
is
kind of odd though,” Brian said. “Safety this, beauty that, love one another other. And, oh yeah, watch out here, you might get eaten. Makes you wonder what else we don't know about that might be dangerous.”

“The bugs are certainly big enough to eat us,” Karl offered as a possible danger.

“I don't even like bugs when they're little!” Rose cringed.

“The bugs are so cute when they're bigger,” Penny said in their defense. “They're all big eyed and furry, and they kind of waddle when they walk. I love petting the caterpillars. Only friendly, helpful bugs are allowed on the tree anyway,” she added, reassuringly.

“I'm still not going to like the bug part,” Rose decided.

“There's so much to look at, you won't even notice the bugs,” Ron said dismissively.

“I can't
not
notice a bug as big as a dog or horse,” she assured him.