My Mother and Her Creatures

My mother was an amusing soul. As a kid, we would wander the lush dark oak forests, searching for: toadstools, mushrooms, green snails, toads, chipped acorns, cardinals, and above all else: faeries. My mother would go hysterical looking for them. "She was a fool", the town we lived in would say, "She has gone completely mad". About eleven, I believed every inch of madness she would say. "Look at this June, a house made for a faerie!" She said, peering at the hole in the tree's bark, a small one; filled with moss. "Come June, I found a tiny mushroom fit for a faerie!" She said, holding a small, lengthy, red mushroom(like an umbrella, she said to me after). "A mighty steed for a mighty faerie prince," My mother said, pointing to a blue and white bird, flying above the leaves, through the sun. She was a greed for adventures and trips. In the winter time, we stayed in a wooden cabin, filled with red rugs and antique vases and porcelain dolls. My mother reminded me every time of the person that lets us stay here, Anna Flint, an old lady with white pulled back hair and a heart made of glass. She scolded me for leaving dirt on her carpet or leaving cup stains on the table. But she thought my mother was a loving mom, who never taught me table manners or how to use the words: "ma'am" or "sir." But she adored my mother so, and hated the little child running through her old cabin. My mother and Aunt Flint(that's what she wanted me to call her) met at a farmers market six years ago, since, their "friendship" as I would call it, grew, and our "rivalry" grew as well. At twelve, my father took me away, "To live a normal life," he said, pulling me in the car. My mother didn't glance at me for a second, then walked back in the house.

15 years later

I pulled out my suitcase and gaped at the green, pale, wooden house that laid camouflaged behind the trees. I could see my mother standing on the porch waving at me. She looked older, more delicate than I remembered. I waved back at the person I once was close too. I could still remember the smell of honey pies from the kitchen and the smell of black tea stained on her apron(from the time I spilled it on her). I walked up the porch's rickety steps and embraced her between my arms.

"Oh you're finally home again!" She tightened her grip, making me drop my suitcase.

"Hi mom," I said rubbing her thin back, "I missed you too." She let me go, finally, and continued to rub my shoulder.

"Come, I have much to tell you."

Her house was completely the same. The only small difference I laid my eyes upon was the kitchen table. There sat a white tea cup, with birds flying in blue on the sides. She poured the tea into, what I'm assuming, was my teacup. She patted the wooden chair as I obeyed the slight motherly command. She smiled then walked towards her old study. The nostalgic whiff of old books and spring air wafted into my nose. I remember as a kid, she spent most of her days in her study. Either reading her old fairy tale books, or studying online: talking with others who think the same as her. She rushed out and laid a leather bound book on the table. The tea shook as I glanced at the new obsession she was into.

"June, I found them." I stared at her grey, decaying eyes.

"I'm sorry, what did you find?"

"June," She said again, like that would remember our life together 15 years ago. "I found the fae." I didn't respond. Has she really gotten this old? I stood up and hugged her.

"Mom you know faeries aren't real? Right?"

"June!" I jumped at the sound of my name and my hands left her back. "I'm sorry for yelling but, after all these years, I have found them." I began to question her sanity more. "June look," She said reading the questioning in my eyes, she opened up her book and showed me a picture of her standing next to a very vivid person wearing fairy wings. Fairy wings? I stared at the picture more as she continued to talk. Her words blurred together, making it only a blank noise as I studied the colorful person on the tea stained picture. "June are you even listening?' I looked up and saw her smile. A smile that was big and bright and wide. A smile I haven't seen in years. I smiled back. My mom was mad, like the town people said, like dad had said, like I had said but still had hope. Now that hope has gone, it flew away. I picked up the picture and noticed the theme park name in the background. She looked down at the picture, then back up at me, her smile faded. "June.." She stared saying, but I was already out the door. Like dad had left before, I didn't say a word to her.

I drove and drove and drove. My mom was insane. My thoughts scattered. What will she believe next? My mind buzzed like a broken clock. Will she forget things too? I slammed on the brakes and laid my head on the stearing wheel. The honk of the car awoke me as I sat up to see a deer staring at me. I watched as it pranced to the forest next to the road. Am I going to go insane as well? Drip, drip, drip. The rain poured as the weather sulked my mood. Then I turned around, and drove back. I am not like my father, I am not like the town's people. I will face my mother and her mythical fairy tales.

She was in her backyard setting up stones leading towards a little cottage house, about the size of a faeries. I think she felt the wave of my sadness as she stopped and turned around to see me. She was soaked, yet still setting up a home for the creatures she believed existed.

"Hi." It was the only word I could find.

"Come." She turned back around and headed into the pouring forest of green. I sighed and followed the old crazy lady into the spring forest. We walked for about six minutes until I saw something up ahead. Lights. Music. Laughter. My mother didn't look at me as she grabbed my hand and led me towards the party. I saw people. More like people with wings. Wings. I felt like I was going to faint, vomit even. The rain did not pour here. Lights hung from the trees as people with rainbow colors danced in a circle. Others stood back and watched, or stood and drank out of what looks like pine cones. I held my mother's hand tighter as she led me through the crowd. The people were dressed in purple, pink, orange, yellow, red lacy silk gowns; others: white puffy button up shirts and brown pants that covered the feet. The wings on their backs were all a light sage green, blending in with the forest's colors. I could feel their stares as the magical humans watched me closely, watching my feet tremble and my hands sweat. My face painted red. Thunder roared above as I noticed the music coming from a fiddle in the corner of the open area. I closed my eyes as the world around me shrank, closing in on me, trapping me. This isn't real. I told myself. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. I chanted in my head over and over again. This magical sight was nothing to behold. I wish I would perish.

My mother grabbed my other hand.

"June." I opened my eyes.

"Yes."

"This is the person I was telling you about." The girl standing in front of me was tall and slender. She was pale as snow and her eyelashes fell like feathers. She grabbed my hand and spoke,

"It's amazing to finally meet you June." Her hands were cold like ice. "Iv'e heard so much about you," She said her face drifting off as my face was still in shook. I smiled and shook her frozen palm.

"As to you as well." I turned to my mother as she smiled wide eyed. Am I going insane? I think my eye said that very same thing as I finally fell to the dirt ground.

The morning sun leeked into my eyes as I woke in my mother's house. She sat next to me on the red dusty couch. I groaned and sat up, then remembering the events of last night. The lights swirled in my head, people dancing to music and the wings. The wings. I gulped the lump in my throat as I looked up and saw the girl from last night standing over me. I screamed and pulled the blanket over my natty hair.

"June It's okay," My mother said pulling me to her shoulder. I let go of the blanket and saw her wings pull back and forth on her back. She was paler now. Cold. Looked like a deceased. She stared at me as well. Studying my facial features. My mother spoke in the silence between us. "June, I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you so bad, but I know you'd probably thought I was insane."

"Yes I did think you were insane."

"Of course," She said rubbing my hand, "And now I get to tell you everything." She grinned and looked up at the beast before us, I refuse to call it a faerie. "This is Celia, a fae of the north winds." Celia grinned and rubbed the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry if I scared you last night, I only meant to greet you." She smiled and looked at me with cold dead eyes, "You're mother," She looked over at her, "Is an amazing person, probably the most amazing mortal I have met." Mortal. Her words stung like glass.

"Well now June I guess we were wrong about faeries all along, look how big they are." She ran her eyes down Celia's lengthy body. "And I thought they were small as acorns." She laughed and put her hand over her stomach. I snorted and pinched my skin.

"Well June," The beast said, "I hope to see you again, so long." She waved then headed out the door. I exhaled.

"This isn't real is it?" I asked my mother dearly. "This is a nightmare."

"June," She pulled my hands to her chest. "This is real darling. Although I was wrong about many things, I know this is real, this is reality." Though this felt like a wispy dream I wish I could fly away from, this is real.

"You really did find them mom," I said smiling. "You found the fae."

Epilogue

Celia brought the honey pies out of the smoking oven. The smell filled the lively room as May and Thorn ran out from outside, running along the furniture.

"Calm down children!" Aunt Flint shouted, "Don't get your dirty paws on the carpet!" I laughed at the sillyness of children delighted me so. My mother grabbed them by the hands and led them over to the dinner table. I sat down and looked at all the fae gathered. And my lover, Brook. He smiled at me and took the wooden seat next to me. He kissed me on the cheek as it warmed of his gentleness. Celia placed the honey pies on the table,

"It's not the best," She started saying, then looked at the burned crust. "Maybe the worst." She laughed as every else followed. She sat down at the dinner table as well as we all said a amen and ate away, feasting on: corn, turkey, squash, bread, honey pies, peas, and potatoes. My stomach filled.

After years of living with the fae, I barley remember a time before. I have learned that faeries are extraordinary creatures. My mother had said so years ago, but no one believed her until now. I believed her. I believed every last bit of words she spat.