Amber Rothe, despite
her immaculate reasoning to the contrary, was holding what could only be
described as a small faerie in her cupped hands. She had no idea how it got
there (indeed she couldn’t remember past the time when the LSD she’d just dropped
had come on) in this large nightclub in inner city Sydney, a converted
warehouse presently filled with young and old dancing away. She just remembered
wondering at its little flowing gown, covered in ruffles and folds, a light,
sky blue, and made of what had to be gossamer. But who’s wearing this petite wonder? It was then that she
noticed that she was holding a faerie.
It was obviously a lady and with the
cutest apple-cheek features Amber had ever seen. It hovered above her hands,
slowly and shyly turning its head. Amber began to cry, sobbing once out of
sheer happiness for its beauty. The faerie remained with eyes downcast. Amber
then looked around to see if anyone else had noticed this creature.
The faerie took the opportunity of Amber’s
distraction to leave her, to head back to wherever it came from, or to begin
whatever mission it had come here for. Amber noticed the little lady,
distinctly trailing a tingle of rose scent, gliding passed her. She thought of
reclaiming it, but then chose to see whether anybody else could see it.
The little lady drifted into the thick of
the crowd unnoticed. Amber trusted her senses though. She would never forget that
little apple-cheeked faerie, never believe that it was the product of the acid.
She went back to where she had been
sitting with some friends but could only stare into her empty cupped hands.
Would this experience with real magick ruin all of her mundane everydays? She
looked up, pondering, and saw the little faerie returning, guiding a young man
towards her. He was following her slowly but doggedly, blind to all else
besides the miracle of Nature leading him. The faerie glided back onto Amber’s
still cupped hands. Amber looked up at the young man.
‘So, you can see her too,’ she said to
him.
‘Yep. And I’ve only had pot tonight, no
acid.’
‘I’ve had a trip but I know she’s real.
Especially now that you see her too.’
‘Why can’t the friends you’re sitting with
see her?’
‘Don’t know. Maybe because they’re all listening
to their music, tuned out on acid between their earphones.’
‘I’m here by myself, so maybe that’s why I
can see her too. On the lookout for anything, as it were.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Alain.’ He pronounced it with a French
accent. ‘What’s yours?’
‘Amber. Are you French?’
‘Oui.’ Then Alain did something he didn’t
at the time realise was fatal. He stumbled in adjusting his posture, standing
there talking and trying to appear suave. He stumbled onto the faerie, which
had stepped from Amber’s cupped hands unnoticed, and none of them heard it
scream the instant before it was squashed. Alain only noticed his error when
his right shoe slipped on something as he was heading off to see if he could
buy some more pot. The slimy, sky blue dress was unmistakeable.
Amber was the first to react, taking the
messy cloth, removing her beanie, folding it around the dead faerie, and then placing
it into her bag. She asked Alain if he would come along with her on Monday to
the Biology Department of the University of Sydney, have them maybe identify
its genes. Perhaps her discovery would lead to a whole new world. Alain
naturally agreed: it was the least he could do and he was very keen to make
amends.
‘The question is, though,’ mused Amber, ‘why
had the faerie brought us together? Why are we so special? You’re just an
ordinary bloke, at least you appear so, and I’m just a hairdresser. What’s so
special about us?’ They were seated with Amber’s friends (there was really
nothing to be done for the deceased) and had exchanged contact details. They
planned to be at the University’s Biology Department at nine on Monday morning,
a day and a half away. They planned to leave soon so that Amber could
refrigerate the remains, the corpse better able to be then studied.
‘Maybe it was just chance,’ said Alain. ‘The
whole thing was just a complete freak of Nature that went horribly wrong. But I
think we should fulfil its last wish.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We should stay friends, or rather become
better friends. I have few female friends even though I prefer the female
energy.’
‘We’ll see,’ she replied, making sure her
bootlaces were tight. ‘Right now, though, I’m heading home, to keep the poor little
lady cool and resting in peace.’ They agreed to meet outside the University’s
main gates on Monday, to then reveal their shattered miracle, and Amber left
the party. Alain followed suit half an hour later.
*
Amber wore her
favourite green dress to meet with Alain on the ensuing Monday morning, not
admitting to herself that she hoped he might admire the dress’ bell-curved hem.
She also wore her dreadlocks in a bun, with one of them standing out on its own
like a bird of paradise feather. Alain too dressed up, similarly not admitting
to himself that romance was around, in a cream sports coat, red shirt and black
jeans. He also had his fine, brown hair tied back. He was also the first to
arrive at the rendezvous. Amber was five minutes late.
‘Hi, Alain, sorry I’m late. My cat didn’t
want to be evicted while I headed out for the day.’
‘Busy day planned?’
‘Yeah, I like to keep busy. Mainly with
art. My pay isn’t much but it lets me have just enough fun. And I don’t smoke
or drink.’
‘Just the occasional LSD,’ quipped Alain.
‘Yeah. Just occasionally though. What work
do you do?’
‘Night-filler. I pack supermarket shelves
at night.’
‘Well,’ she said while stroking her hair,
‘we may as well make our revelation.’
‘Indeed.’
After confirming that Amber still had the
beanie containing the specimen in her bag (which beanie hadn’t been opened
since its taking hold of the corpse) they set out to find the Biology Department.
They could have, of course, asked for directions, but instinct told them both
to keep as low a profile as possible. After all, Amber held in her bag what
could possibly be a very significant landmark in the annals of Biology. They
located a map of the campus and after Amber had planned out the location in her
notebook they were soon within the Department’s sandstone.
Surprisingly they had no trouble in being
attended to by a biologist, having only to wait for about ten minutes to do so.
He introduced himself as Dr Cheng and took them into a presently vacant office
to discuss their ‘unusual find.’ He assured them that people brought in
‘unusual finds’ often and the matter always ended up benign.
‘So,’ he soon said, getting down to
business, ‘may I see your specimen?’
Amber took the folded beanie from her bag
and opened it. There was absolutely no sign of the faerie’s remains, not the
slightest stain from its mangled, gory flesh. Amber and Alain were stunned. The
good Doctor felt put upon.
‘Listen, you two, this is not a funny
joke. I have very important things to do. Is this a joke? Some sort of student
protest?’
‘No,’ replied Amber and Alain together.
‘We’re just as surprised as you,’ said Amber for the both of them. ‘I have no
idea where the faerie could have gone.’
‘Faerie!? Listen, little miss, and good
sir, you both might wish to see a psychiatrist soon. These delusions nipped in
the bud early usually cause no long term worries. But now, good day.’ Dr Cheng
then left them alone in the office, having assumed they were a harmless,
deluded pair and would leave soon without further incident. Which they duly
did.
Without saying a word, though, they both
headed to the nearest café to talk about their apparent delusion, which
couldn’t be a delusion because they had both seen it. They both ordered a large
flat white.
They soon decided to head back to the same
nightclub on the ensuing Saturday night and to try as best they could to
replicate the conditions that had led to the faerie’s appearance, of which both
very firmly believed. With any luck another faerie should appear and they can
both unite to discover the purpose of their proclaiming their existence to a
humble young woman and young man. They left soon after their coffees, both
going home to see if they need to do anything to prepare for another faerie’s
revelation. They also both expected their names to become inscribed in history,
two ordinary folk who opened a world of magick.
*
Amber had no trouble in
getting the same trip she’d had upon discovering her miracle and both she and
Alain were wearing the same clothes as when they first met. They both naturally
expected great things, even flirting with each other more. Who knows, maybe the
faeries were beginning to announce themselves simply to spread love. That
wouldn’t be such a bad world. Or would it?
It was Alain, having just had a pipe of
ganja, who noticed the faerie first. The same size as the first, but dressed in
a more many folded, purple gown. Alain pointed out her arrival to Amber and
they both held out a hand each to form a cup to receive this obvious envoy.
The wee creature descended onto their
hands, hovering just above the rim. This new lady looked at each in turn and
then made a bow. When Amber and Alain looked up again after returning the
creature’s bow they both could plainly see that it held a long, black poniard
in its right hand. The faerie drew the blade across both their palms and simply
was not there the next instant.
They looked at their palms. Nothing.
Likewise, their death was, ultimately,
treated as nothing. Nothing could be attributed to their sudden death, even
though illicit drugs were discovered in their systems, but not at harmful
levels, and their passing within two days of each other was put down as an act
of God on both their parts. Their parents never really did get over their
sudden passing and couldn’t face cremating them, being not so far away if they
were still somehow whole. Resting, simply resting.
~~~