Fairies

From Volume 1 Issues 8-9

The fairies were here again. I leaned as far as I could without falling off the bed to watch them through my window. The shimmering rays of light danced among the flowers lining the path below all the way to the hospital door, each reflecting the unique colors of the blossoms. Red, yellow, pink, purple, even some green here and there. I smiled, wishing they were always there, soaking in as much of their joy as I could.

“Are you even listening, Vera?” Jay, my bossy older brother, was supposed to be reading to me so that I wouldn’t notice Mom fighting with the doctors outside my door. He’d picked his favorite book, as usual.

“I’m tired of Treasure Island,” I wrinkled my nose, not letting my eyes leave the fairies. “Can’t you read Cinderella?”

“I’m tired of Cinderella.” Jay set the book down and went to the window. “What are you looking at? Is the sun in your eyes?” He moved to close the curtains.

“No!” I jerked upright. “Leave them open!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Jay held up his hands.

“Vera, is everything okay?” Mom poked her head in, and I looked away. I hated seeing the black shadows under her eyes, encircling pools of sadness that I knew were my fault.

“I’m fine.”

The door opened all the way and the doctor pushed his way past Mom, smiling as if he hadn’t just been telling her I was going to die. Jay moved to Mom’s side, clearly done dealing with me. That was fine. The distractions never worked anymore anyway.

“Well, young lady, and how are you feeling today?”

I shrugged, tired of explaining the pain they could never take away, and leaned my head to look out the window again, but the fairies were gone, the shadows of clouds hovering in their place. Despite my best efforts, tears welled up.

“Maybe we need to increase your pain medication.” The doctor frowned at me.

“You’re already giving her too much.” That harsh tone was back in Mom’s voice and she whispered as if I couldn’t hear her. “She’s not big enough to handle it.”

I braced myself for another argument, relieved when the door opened again and a nurse came in, interrupting them before they could start.

“I just need to check her IV.”

The doctor nodded and she came toward me, her smile too happy. I took a deep breath to hold back any cries as the poking and prodding began, answering the nurse’s questions as calmly as I could. But then, as she grasped my arm to insert a new needle, she exclaimed, “Just look at those muscles! Such strong arms for such a little girl.”

I scowled and gritted my teeth, battling with the desire to scream at her. Just because I was seven didn’t mean I was stupid. I hated when they said things like that, thinking it would make me believe I was fine. Why wouldn’t they just leave me alone? Maybe then the fairies would come back.

I ignored the rest of the nurse’s questions, and, when she left, lay back down, keeping my head turned away from everyone else.

“She’s tired. Can we let her rest?”

I echoed Mom’s plea silently.

The doctor tried a couple more questions, but I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended not to hear. Finally, I heard footsteps and a door closed. I breathed a sigh of relief as silence fell and a couple of the tears I’d been holding in trickled down my nose.

A slight sound startled me and I whipped my head around. Jay and the doctor had left, but Mom was still there, though she wasn’t looking at me. She was rocking in the chair next to me, reading her Bible. I watched her face. For once, she wasn’t crying. She didn’t look upset. She was just there. She started humming, and I smiled. I hadn’t heard her hum since I’d first gotten sick. I watched the orange rays of a setting sun frame her graying hair, and listened as she hummed, letting the sound seep into me and take away my pain, until I finally drifted to sleep.

When I woke up, the room was dark and quiet. Something was different. It took me a few minutes to figure out what it was. My eyes widened. Nothing hurt. I sat up and still there was no pain. A flash of light caught my eye and I jumped out of bed and ran to the window, lifting the shade. There they were. Dancing around the flowers in streams of light brighter than the moon. Calling me. I laughed as I ran out to them. The fairies had come.