Daphne and the Wood Faries

Daphne and the Wood Fairies

By E. A. Pulliam

“Look, Daphne, the first of the snow crocus’ we planted last fall.” I pointed to the pale blue petals in the slowly greening lawn. “Do you remember when we planted them?”

           Daphne sniffed the flower and the bright orange pollen stuck to her nose. She sneezed. “Are these where you buried those big seeds? How did they turn into flowers?”

           “That’s not easy to explain. Each living thing is given the magic to grow at the right time. I’ll show you more as other things start to grow.

“Let’s get back up to the house, it’s starting to sprinkle.”

“Am I going to turn into a crocus when I grow up,” Daphne asked as we climbed the hill towards the house.

I laughed, “No sweety, you won’t turn into a crocus. Each living thing has their own thing to grow into.”

“Then am I going to grow into a bush with smelly sweet pink flowers? How can I run and jump if I’m a bush or a flower?” In spite of the sprinkles, Daphne sat down on the wet grass.

“Come on silly.” I leaned over and picked her up. “I told you that I named you after the bush because it’s my favorite bush. You’re not a bush. Let’s get inside, it’s starting to rain hard now.”

* * *

As Daphne grew her legs got stronger and longer and she discovered the sheer joy of running. She ran everywhere. Walking at a normal pace without jumping and skipping was almost impossible for her. But we both continued to learn from each other. 

I am only half-fairy and my father forbade my mother from giving me any training or allowing me to grow wings. I grew up to look like a regular human, although a little on the short side. Most of the fairy knowledge I do have I had to learn from other creatures and plants. But most of them didn’t want to share knowledge with a human. I have always been able to speak and hear a little bit of fairy language. But there is so much of it that is a combination of hear, smell and taste, that I never completely picked it up on my own.

Creatures and plants that have fairy knowledge rarely show or share it with humans, snakes, or cockroaches. It’s too easy for them to abuse it because they are, by nature, greedy.

Which is why I lived alone for so many years before I adopted Daphne.

I’m teaching her the fairy knowledge I do have so she can experience the world with more wonderment than I could when I was growing up. She’s a natural at it and other creatures and plants tell her things I don’t know, and she shares them with me. Our relationship has become well, magical.

Mid-morning each day, weather permitting, we go for a long walk. My goal is one mile. But Daphne probably puts in two or three times that running around, hopping, and jumping. She’s tried to chase the squirrels, deer, rabbits, wild turkeys, and other creatures that inhabit the woods behind the house.

“Did you see that?” Daphne was dancing in excitement. “Why did her mommy and daddy tell her I was dangerous? We just wanted to play.”

“Rabbits are afraid of many creatures. Especially those that eat meat, like us.” 

Daphne had been nose-to-nose with a young rabbit before its parents started to thump the ground. Now she sat down looking dejected. “Doesn’t anyone like me,” she asked hanging her head.

“Oh, sweety, maybe in time they will. But remember what I told you, ask before you chase them. Tell them you’re just playing. And never do it when another meat-eater is around.”

“I’m never going to learn all I need to know,” Daphne whined.

“Nobody ever does,” I gave her a hug. 

“Come on now, lets go back to the house and I’ll let you have a cookie.”

The very word “cookie” magically transformed her into the running, hopping, and jumping Daphne she usually was. “Come on, slow-poke,” she called to me dashing towards the house. “Last one home is a stink-bug!”

* * *

           Having Daphne around allowed me to age more gracefully. I certainly got exercise on our walks through the woods where I had to stoop down to show her secret nooks where I knew fairies lived. Occasionally, when Daphne got there first, a curious fairy would show itself to Daphne. Daphne would sit very still and listen to the fairy tell her things. I caught snippets of the conversations now and then, but much of the language was still beyond my understanding. Daphne would try to tell me about the conversations she had. But there were too many of the fairy ideas that I didn’t understand, and Daphne didn’t know how to translate.

One summer evening I had a mild heart attack, although a doctor will tell you that there is nothing such as a mild heart attack. I was only in the hospital for two days. Daphne stayed with neighbors. When I did get home, Daphne wanted to sleep in my bed with me. She had never done that before, but I allowed her to sleep with me as much for my reassurance as hers.

We started walking again that same week. Not the mile-long winding path through the wood, but twenty minutes, at an easy pace each day. Daphne was accustomed to more outside time than that, and she was old enough to know stay within the fence, so I let her go out when she wanted while I sat on the back porch and read.

It didn’t take long before she had nudged me back to walking more and more. On nice days, I’d take my book and a folding chair into the first field beyond the fence and let her run around as long as she stayed where I could see her. She sometimes stretched that rule but would always come when I called.

One afternoon, I couldn’t see her and called. I waited a minute or so and called again. Still, she didn’t come bouncing across the field. I put my book down in my chair and stood up. I was relieved to see her coming towards me until I realized that she was walking very carefully. I was alarmed, thinking at first she must be hurt. Then I heard her say, “I’m bringing some friends who want to talk to you.”

I started across the field to meet her but was answered by a chorus of voices[EJ1] , “we’re coming to see you, you don’t have come to meet us.”

They were fairy voices! I started walking down the hill toward them. Daphne was draped with fairies of various colors and sizes. When we met, I was so overcome that all I could do is sit down, cross-legged on the ground. 

An older, fairy flew over to my side. “Madame, may I sit?” I nodded in numb half-belief. “It has been some time since we last saw you,” he began. “I am Anthurium. I am honored to meet you. We were so shocked and sorrowed when your father took you and your mother, Astilbe, and left the fairy cloister.  We tried to get her stay, but she was in love and had sworn her oath to Cowslip.” He stopped and looked at me intently. “I see that you do not know of these things.” He rubbed his hands together then rubbed his face briskly.

“Madam, do you have any plans this evening?’

“Why, no, I don’t.”

“Then allow us to hold festivities in your honor. I see that you have a fine grove of old trees between here and your house. May we use it for party in your honor this evening?”

“Only if I can contribute to the party.”

The fairy blushed. “Now that you mention it, you do have a lovely vegetable garden…”

“Say no more. My garden is yours for the picking. How can I help?”

“No, at this party you are the guest.”

“Then may I be a grateful guest and bring some elderberry wine? I make it myself.”

“Oh,” the fairy gasped. “It’s been ages.”

 “Then I’ll go get a bottle out of the cellar and chill it a little. And I’ll see you at dusk!”

“You should pick some flowers for your hair,” Daphne suggested as we walked back to the house.

Later that evening Daphne and I walked over to the copse of old growth Hickory and Oak. The canopy of the trees kept most of the sunlight out during the day so even in the middle of summer it was cool under their leafy ceiling. The lack of light also meant that there was little undergrowth, just a thick blanket of leaves, dirt, and moss.

I felt awkwardly large in the fairy gathering. Although Daphne didn’t seem to mind the disparity between us and the fairies.

We ate raspberries, blueberries, and cherry tomatoes while some of the fairies dipped cups made from folded flower petals into a bowl of elderberry wine I had provided and danced to music that seemed to come from their movements.

Anthurium cleared his throat and the dancing and music stopped. “This is a celebration. We are reintroducing a fairy child once thought to be lost to the cloister forever. But first we have to tell her tale.

“Astilbe was my only child and heir to the leadership of our cloister. She met Cowslip, who was from a different cloister, and fell in love. When I looked into Cowslip’s background, I discovered that he had been thrown out of his cloister for violations of Fairy Law. I told Astilbe about Cowslip, but she had already promised herself to him and was carrying his child. I told Cowslip that he would be able to join our cloister, but only by following our laws. He was unwilling to agree, denounced his fairy powers and left with Astilbe. He became human and insisted that Astilbe do the same.

“I visited Astilbe from time to time and was there when you were born, Lilly. You were a beautiful child; and have grown into a beautiful woman. You were born a fairy and can be one now if you so choose.”

I stared at Anthurium and then looked around at the fairies.  “I’m honored. But I have so many questions!”

The fairies looked disappointed and let out a collective sigh.

Anthurium spoke loudly, “Fairies, don’t be rude to our guest. This is a new and unfathomable offer to Lilly. We must respect her need to understand what it means to her and allow her to make her decision in her own time.”

“Thank you, Anthurium. And thank you fairies. This has been an evening beyond all expectations! The idea of being a fairy amazing. But it is a big idea and I appreciate your patience with me.”

Anthurium stood up. “It’s time for us to go home, fairies.”

He turned to me. “I will come and answer any questions I can when you’re ready.”

“How do I tell you I’m ready?”

“I’ll be able to sense it.” He flew over and kissed her on her cheek. Then he was gone.

“A fairy!” Daphne danced around me as we headed back to the house. “I can’t wait to be a fairy!”

But that was my biggest concern. Could Daphne become a fairy? If she couldn’t, how could I take care of her?

Anthurium appeared in my kitchen two days later. His sad expression told me what I wanted to know. “My dear, I have researched and consulted with other fairy leaders. Daphne is not of fairy blood. She is, in fact, one of our most feared animals. She is a dog, after all.”

“Then how can she know so much fairy language and custom?”

“She learned them from you.”

“I thought I learned them from her.”

“You already knew them. She helped you see and know.”

Daphne came creeping into the kitchen, “I can’t be a fairy?”

I sat down on the floor and she crawled into my lap. I petted her gently.

“Do you need more time,” Anthurium asked softly?

“Can my transformation wait,” I asked.

“Yes, whenever you are ready.” Anthurium kissed my forehead. “You have made the right decision in your heart. We respect and cherish that. We’ll come visit each solstice and equinox.” And he was gone.

* * *

Many happy years went by until Daphne passed away. The fairies all came and moved her to the copse of trees we had used for our parties. Each fairy touched her lightly and she dissolved into a million tiny lights that rose into tops of the trees, then sprinkled down on us all. The fairies seemed to absorb the lights as they fell.

I looked at my hands as they became small and smooth and I felt my wings grow. 

Anthurium cleared his throat. “Daphne has been a great friend to the fairies; and now she is part of us all.”

“Now let us welcome Lilly back into the cloister!!!”

The End

 [EJ1]