A Pixie's Magic

Mindy stretched and straightened her frock of petals and clover leaves as she walked about the mushrooms and flowers. There’d never been a finer home. Mushrooms protected from rain and the waffling scents of irises and sweet alliums invigorated. 

Ah, there. What could be better than a daisy? Wrapping her golden palms about its stem, Mindy arched her back and shifted her weight so fragrant dewdrops showered her. Being apple heavy, her vigorous swaying did no harm.  

Refreshed by the cool water, Mindy belly danced to shake drops from her body and found a warm rock on which to dry. Rose petals made the prettiest skirts, but they withered so quickly. Maple and elm leaves were sturdier. Needing new garments, Mindy looked out at the flower patch.

Even though in the center of a busy Kingston sidewalk, she didn’t worry about being seen. People never saw what they didn’t believe existed. Mainly pedestrians hurried past looking at their phones. 

Oot oh.

A woman in a tattered coat stumbled to Mindy’s garden patch. There were holes in her sneakers through which blue gray socks peaked.

Mindy darted behind a mushroom tugging fern leaves about her. She hated vagrants seeing her. They always panicked thinking they were hallucinating.

Things were more interesting in her ancestors’ days. Even if ‘not to be seen,’ pixies travelled freely. Ancient stories told of fairies cleaning human dwellings and making shoes for a cobbler’s children. Not to mention, Cinderella and her fairy godmother.

But what could Mindy do? Transform the homeless woman? She hardly looked like princess material. Sinking onto the garden’s rock ledge, the woman examined the holes in her shoes and let out a weary sigh.  If she started begging, Mindy would be forced to hide all day. And she needed a new dress.

Maybe if she shook the lilac branches, the woman would think she was a bee. Mindy hopped atop the daisy head and swung to a low branch.  The vagrant seemed not to notice but pulled off her sneakers and wriggled her toes.

A man of about fifty with a briefcase in one hand and a large watch on the other wrist passed them. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the woman’s feet, but didn’t pause. There was a prince for this downcast princess. He hadn’t seen either of them.

Sitting on the lilac limb, Mindy looked down at the socked foot woman. She hadn’t even a hat or cup to beg for change. Grimacing, she stuck her feet back in her shoes.

A boy rode up on a bike. From his basket, took out a can of RC cola and chucked it at the woman’s face. His bike never slowed.

Clutching her cheek, the woman fell back crushing Mindy’s mushrooms. 

Bloody beggars.

Mindy threw a handful of dust at the woman’s face. 

Coughing, the woman blinked up at her. Though dazed from the dust, her eyes narrowed on Mindy. Instead of shrieking, she blinked and squinted. After studying Mindy’s fine features and butterfly wings, the woman asked, “Are you an angel?”

“Do you believe in angels?” Mindy asked, huffily fluttering her wings.

“Yes, but I don’t think you’re one,” the woman answered.

Unreal. Imagine being questioned by a non-hysterical human. Fluttering back and forth above the lilac branch, Mindy demanded, “Why not?”

“Well, I think an angel would be bigger. And scarier. Whenever angels speak, the first thing they say is ‘don’t be afraid’, so I figure angels must look fierce.”

“I can be fierce.” Mindy scowled and threw another handful of shimmering dust at the woman. “Who are you anyhow? Look what your falling’s done. Broken my house.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The woman looked at the crumpled flowers and toppled mushrooms and bent to try and straighten them.

“Stop!” Honestly. How could an unmagical creature think to restore Mindy’s dwelling?

“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be on your way to work or something?” Saying it, Mindy knew it unlikely the woman was due anywhere. Still when dejection spread across the broad face, Mindy was shamed. “Well. What’s your story then? You must have a name and place where you’re from.”

The woman nodded.

Nearly walking in the street to avoid them, a man between two women bustled passed. Likely boutique shoppers. 

Mindy jumped down to the daisy head and crushed grasses. At least people would think the woman talked to flowers and not the clouds or birds.

“You want to know my name?”

“You have one, haven’t you?” Mindy crossed her arms scowling. Still, the creature was interesting and answered questions without hysterics.

“Ruby,” the woman answered. “Sorry, I wrecked your house.”

“Ah, well.” Mindy clapped her hands and the flowers and ferns straightened. She couldn’t uncrush mushrooms, but something could be done with the wild grasses. “You seem in more trouble than me. Have you a place to stay?”

“I don’t think I’d fit in your house,” Ruby answered, but looked as though wondering whether Mindy could shrink her. Mindy couldn’t.

Re-crossing her arms, Mindy asked, “How come to have nowhere to be?”

The woman shrugged. “Everything is expensive here. I stay at the shelter but can’t be there in daytime.”

“And what about the job thing?”

Ruby shrugged. “No one likes the look of me.”

Mindy could see that well enough. The woman’s brown eyes looked in a daze. Her cheeks were sunburnt red and dry lips were so chapped that they’d split in red lines. Pixies might stay beautiful in nature, but the hot sun dried and wrinkled human skin. Sleeping on concrete, stiffened their joints.

Nothing she could do. Mindy was no great sorceress, but only possessed dust magic. Springing back to the bush, Mindy tossed down another golden shimmer that turned chartreuse green before vanishing.

The woman looked up at her and blinked under the rising sun’s glare. 

Maybe she could help this creature. Drifting back down, Mindy asked, “Do you know the Cinderella story?”

The woman’s stare was blank.

“Cinderella had a fairy godmother.  I could be yours.”

On understanding her words, the woman laughed. “I think I’m way past marrying a prince.”

Humph. Should she forget this lost creature and skip off? But Ruby looked in need of rescue. “So what do you want?”

“Have you a winning lottery ticket?”

“No.”

“I could use new shoes. New clothes.”

Pixies didn’t need shoes, but a cloth dress? Ah. Settling on the falling mushroom stem, Mindy crossed her legs and lay her chin on her hands. People were not supposed to see pixies, let alone converse with them. Yet, here this woman was. Maybe.

“I don’t wear shoes, but could use a new dress,” Mindy said. “Mine are normally made of wild leaves or flowers, but cloth would be nice. Less likely to wilt.”

When Ruby nodded sympathetically, Mindy continued, “Do you think you could find me a bit of cloth to make a new frock. Given my size, I’d not need much.”

Ruby tilted her head thoughtfully and tapped a dirt encrusted fingernail against her chin. “Someone donated cloth napkins to the shelter. Everyone laughed at them. Who’d donate cloth napkins to a homeless shelter? But the cloth was nice. Kind of the colour of your skirt.”

“Plain cloth would work. Can you get it for me?”

“I’m only allowed back when they serve lunch.”

“Ha. With all the pixie dust I’ve tossed at your head, no one’ll be able to say ‘no’ to you.” Mindy clapped again sending down more shimmering powder.

“I could try,” Ruby agreed, getting up and hobbling back the way she’d come.

Mindy couldn’t become invisible, but she could shrink until seeming a colourful insect. Once the size of a dragonfly, she fluttered behind the woman.

They soon reached Martha’s Table, but Mindy had to point with both arms before Ruby knocked. When the door opened, she blinked at the man behind it. “Wayne, ah, I know I’m not allowed before lunch.”

“Oh, hi ya Ruby. How ya doing?”

“Well enough, thanks. But, I’s wondering. You know those napkins that were donated the other day? Do you think it’d be alright if I had one?”

“Two,” Mindy yelled down at her. “Ask for two.”

Ruby blinked up. “Oh.” “Actually, could I have two?”

The man looked from one to the other. He must have thought Ruby consulted a bug. “I suppose I can give you two napkins.”

“The cloth ones.” Ruby blinked like expecting him to dash her hopes.

“Sure,” Wayne nodded. He closed the door on her but soon returned with two rose coloured napkins. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Ruby bobbed clutching them.

After he’d locked the door behind him, Mindy said, “I told you he’d agree. Now where do you normally spend your days?”

“I go to the library a lot.”

“No. We can’t make dresses at the library.”

“It seemed nice today, so I thought I’d sit out and watch people go by.”

That explained her ending up in Mindy’s garden box. “Let’s go to the park,” Mindy said. “Follow me.”

People cleared a path for a woman who seemed to chase a dragonfly, and Mindy led them to a picnic table. Once Ruby sat, Mindy returned to her ripe apple size and snatched up a napkin.

“Very fine.” When Mindy raised her fingers above the top of the fabric, it crimped into a short sleeved bodice. She waved down and the bottom became a flared skirt.

“Ta da.” Mindy spun and was in her new dress. Twirling back and forth, Mindy asked, “Do you like it?”

“Amazing,” Ruby nodded.

“But what are we going to do with you?” Raising her hands over the other napkin, Mindy lifted it above their heads. When it fell, it was a dress big enough to fit Ruby.

“Wow!” Ruby caught it. “Is this for me?”

“Do you like it?” Another clap and Ruby was in the dress. “Well, what do you think?”

“It’s fine, but I’m not sure it’s for me.”

“But you like it?”

“Ya but.” Ruby looked past the dress hem to her holey sneakers.

“I never wear shoes,” Mindy said. Pixies didn’t have to worry about dirty feet, let alone blisters or bunions. “But maybe something can be done.” This time, her wave caused the sleeves to puff up and glide about their heads. She clapped and the fabric fell and became red slippers in Ruby’s lap. “Nice but.” Grasping them, Ruby looked unsure. “I mean what will Wayne think when I go for lunch.”

“Are you happy living as you are?” Mindy asked. “I mean if you’re happy, fine, but is this how you want to live? If you like the clothes, maybe it’s you and not them that need changing. Hadn’t you ever had dreams?” 

Ruby’s cheeks reddened. Looking down at the slippers, she ran a hand over their toe caps and admitted, “I’d wanted to be an artist. Paint landscapes and stuff.”

“So what happened?”

“Everyone wants to be an artist. I was stupid thinking.”

“But there are humans who earn livings by selling art they’ve created. How do they do it?”

Ruby shrugged. “Knowing some in the art world. Getting discovered. I never met anyone important.”

“Everyone’s important.” Mindy didn’t really believe that, but it seemed a good thing to say. “Aren’t there lots of art studios?”

“Everyone wants to be an artist.” Ruby covered her face with her hands. She needed a good scrubbing. Her graying hair looked grimy and there were dirt crusts beneath her nails.

“Before we try winning you a place, we need to clean you up.” Rising Mindy fluttered to the public washroom. If Ruby followed, Mindy would try to help. If not, Mindy had other things to do.

Ruby followed.

It was not easy scrubbing under the small sink. By the time, Ruby soaked and soaped her head, water ran across the floor.

“Never mind,” Mindy said. “You’ll do.”

They went out, and Mindy began searching. There had to be something with which Ruby could create an art piece.

“Pick up the chalk.” Mindy flew over a hopscotch drawing.

“How am I to carry it?”

“There are lots of Tim’s cups.”

Ruby found a dry one with only a small tea stain in the bottom and plunked in pieces. Yellow. Pink. Blue. Green.

Beside the garbage cans, there were discarded newspapers and Styrofoam food trays. “Here I found something.” Mindy pointed at a stack of five unused paper plates. 

Ruby picked them up, but looked confused.

“You’re an artist. Draw on the back of them,” Mindy said.

Ruby looked tempted to argue, but sigh and returned to the picnic table. 

Once she’d drawn on all five plates, Mindy asked, “Where’s your favorite gallery.”

“Wha. Why?”

“I may not have a winning lottery ticket or power to shrink you, but I know some magic.”

Ruby looked doubtfully at her chalk sketches. 

“Don’t worry. They look better than line drawings that sell for millions.”

The reached Studio 44.   

“Go ahead now. Ask them what you want. I’ll make them say ‘yes.’ Hey, relax alright. You’ll crush your work if you don’t.” Mindy pointed at how Ruby gripped the plate rims.

Pulling back a glass door, Ruby tiptoed across the cedar floor in her new shoes. Brick walls were lined with two foot tall canvases. Staring at a three hundred dollar portrait of a shadowed woman with feathers in her hair, Ruby muttered, “Ridiculous.”

“Can I help you?” A tidy man in a gray tweed suit approached. He didn’t look hostile, but smiled encouragingly.

The size of a moth, Mindy rose above his head and clapped her hands. Pink shimmers floated down.

Swallowing, Ruby held out her chalk sketches. “I’m looking for work.”

He looked from her to the crinkled plates she fanned in front of her. The chalk was smearing. “We could use a sweeper. Couldn’t pay much, but would feed you supper. It’d give you a place to be and you’d be able to learn about the art world.”

Ruby blinked. Tilted her head trying to understand.

The man waited.

“Yes. Yes. That’d be alright. I’s know how to work a broom.”

Mindy was an angel.