Wychmere

Deborah Rodgers had been living in Wychmere, Maine for about two or three months now. She had purposefully been seeking out a remote and quiet community when she stumbled across the tiny hamlet of Wychmere. 

“Where did you find this place?” Sarah Hartman, Deb’s realtor asked when they exited their cars at the property.

“One of those online realty websites, I don’t really remember which now that you ask. It’s absolutely perfect though isn’t it?!” Deb was bouncing on her heels with excitement.

Sarah was rather surprised when Deb came to her with the listing for this tiny cottage in this microscopic town. She was fairly certain that she had never heard of this miniature community, but when she and Deb had gone to see the cottage there it was on the outskirts of this scarcely there rural settlement.

Deb immediately fell in love with the remoteness and the small town feel of the community. They drove around the sedate downtown area, it was the very thing that Deb had been seeking out. There was a small town pharmacy, a grocery, an elementary school, a joint middle and high school.

It even had a steepled church that was proportionally sized to serve a town that contained just enough people where everyone still knew everyone else by their first name, and had done for generations going back.

It was idyllic in Deb’s point of view. She had to follow up with Sarah a few times before they got all the paperwork sorted out. Sarah mentioned having some difficulties finding the correct documents but Deb did not care about the details, she had her little slice of the paradise and had never been more happy in the entirety of her life than on the day she officially moved to Wychmere.

The first few weeks she had gone into town often. She had to run out to get groceries to stock her newly moved into living space. Then she also had to run to the town hardware store to pick-up supplies for a few fixes she needed to see to around the cottage. People seemed a little strange around town, but Deb figured that was from the insular nature of such a remote town. It had probably been a long time since anyone new had arrived in their remote part of the world.

Then after about a month of her smiling and giving polite greetings at the grocery store or at the coffee shop no one was still responding to her. The most she had managed to get from anyone were wide eyed stares from the young children around town. When the children's parents would notice their children’s behavior they would grab their child by the hand and drag them in another direction, scarcely giving a glance in Deb’s direction.

After that first month she started to feel a little more settled into her cosy little cottage residence and went over to the local town church to find out information about services. She was missing the sense of community that she had experienced when she was little and had been taught a church was a great place to seek out other friendly faces.

So she started going and all seemed fairly regular. Except still no one would come over and speak to her still. If she tried to hold a conversation with anyone they hurried off to escape behind a door near the church’s altar. There was definitely more staring than ever though. At times it almost seemed like some of them were glaring at her for being there.

One day after three weeks of this she cornered one of the women about her age. Deb had learned her name was Josie Reyes and snuck up on her so that the woman did not have a chance to dodge Deb.

“Good morning, Josie!” Deb greeted in as friendly a manner as possible.

Josie took a wide step back and looked furtively in both directions but could see no way out.

“G… good morning, Deborah,” Josie managed to get out.

“And how are you this fine spring morning?”

“Busy… I was just about to….” Josie started to slowly sidle towards the same door everyone else in the church headed towards at the end of the services.

“Oh yes!” exclaimed Deb. “I’ve always wondered what goes on back there! No one has told me yet. Is there a post-church brunch or some sort of community gathering after services?”

Josie’s eyes dodged back and forth in her head quickly from one side to the other. “Yes,” she replied, sounding a little unsure of herself. “It’s just brunch. No one thought to tell you because everyone knows already.”

“Oh! Well since I’m new in town I didn’t know!” Deb smiled as she pointed out what she thought should have been obvious but moved on with her thoughts. “Is it a potluck? I’m not prepared this week but next week I’ll bring scones!”

“Uhhh… that sounds great, Deborah.” Was all Josie could get out before she finally managed to break away from Deb and definitely not run towards the door by the altar and close it firmly behind her.

The following week at church Deb came armed with two dozen freshly baked blueberry scones with a zest of orange in them. She waited patiently through the service, enjoying the lively singing more than the Pastor’s sermons. Then came the big moment. It was the end of services and everyone was headed to the back room, behind the door that stood beside the altar.

Deb entered the room and immediately felt all eyes on her. She smiled and put the scones down on one of the small tables around the room. As she walked around the room trying to find a conversation to fit into she started to notice things that seemed off about the entire situation.

For one thing there was no other food in the room, the scones that she had made from scratch were the only edible items in the room. For another as she floated around from group to group most of them fell silent in her approach. However farther away from where she stood in the room at any given time she could hear smatterings of conversation. These conversations though were no in a language that she recognized.

“Uy Zre austroastent?” said one person to the other standing next to them.

“Op Uy Ze Kekkel hob.” The other responded. The first seemed to nod in reply to the second’s statement.

After about fifteen minutes of Deb attempting and failing to join a conversation everyone stopped speaking at once. The Pastor had stepped up onto a chair and bought everyone’s attention to him.

“Good morning, Wychmere.” The pastor rumbles in his deep, sonorous baritone. It’s little wonder why he stepped into a position which requires him to orate more often than not.

“This morning we are here to discuss an issue that has become something we cannot just let slide by anymore.”

Deb looked around to see a few people nod with the Pastor’s proclamation. She wondered what this could be about. Everyone seemed so solemn and serious, but Deb didn’t remember seeing any serious issues with the town recently. Had she overlooked something in her rose-tinted excitement to move here?

“We’ve never had an issue like this before. We’re a quiet little town that usually avoids any detection from the outside,” the Pastor went on, “During the winter the town is so snowed in that no one even passes us by. Which works out for our benefit since no one is here.” He paused here and smiled, “Well, except when I drop a month before The Return to assure there are no human or animal squatters in any of the buildings.”

The crowd smiled warmly and nodded at the Pastor. Deb was getting more confused with every passing word and a chill started to creep it’s icy tendrils into her heart. What did the Pastor mean by “no one is here” in the Winter. Was the whole town a private vacation community?

The Pastor continued, “The year Bríd Ní Donnagáin and Faolan Ó Dulchaointigh chose to stay back Home being they did not want to travel while expecting their young so soon.” The Pastor smiled warmly at this thought, “This is also why most of you have only seen me here at the weekly services. I’ve needed to split my time between the two Places.”

At this the Pastor sighed and continued, “This is also why things have gotten out of hand here. I’ve not been around to help guide and lead. To help lend me power to our collective glamour. This in part is why this Human has found Wychmere,” as the Pastor said “human” he gestures casually in Deb’s direction.

Deb felt her blood turn to ice in her veins. What did he mean about her being Human. Did they think they were not? Was this a crazy cult town that people gathered in the summers to practice their wackjob religion? What had she gotten herself into?

Deb slowly tried to make her way back towards the door that she had entered by, but it was too late. There were too many people who were directly blocking her way between herself and the door. She considered dropping all propriety and just shoving people while making a run for it when the Pastor continued.

“Do not fear. Human, we are not going to do anything to harm you. Deborah I believe?” The Pastor sighed and rubbed his eyes, “No truly this is more of a wake up call to me than anything else.”

“I… I don’t understand.” Deb stuttered, still frightened and unsure. “What is with this town?! I’ve tried my best to be a friendly neighbor and well behaved newcomer and everyone has treated me like I’m some monster who has come to terrorize your town!”

The Pastor chuckled at Deb’s outburst, which did not make Deb feel any better at that moment.

“I’m very sorry Deborah, I do not mean to laugh at you. It’s just that we all know that you are anything but a monster. The problem everyone has is everyone knows that you are the only Human in this entire town.”

Deborah’s heart stopped and took about ten seconds to restart. This cannot be real, she thought. One of two things is happening right now. Either I’m having an incredible vivid dream and I’ll wake up in my weird, standoffish, quiet New England town tomorrow; or I’ve completely snapped and I’m in an insane asylum somewhere.

Deb pinched her arm as hard as she could, digging her nails into her skin just to be sure. Nope, definitely awake, she thought. Probably not hallucinating either. Crap.

Deborah took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth. She then asked, “Let’s say for just a moment that’s true. If I’m the only Human in town, then what are all of you?”

One of the women who had avoided her look at the grocery story snorted derisively at her and rolled her eyes. “We’re a who, not a what,” she muttered.

“Mary, she doesn’t understand what’s going on. Let’s try to have a little patience.” The Pastor corrected the woman’s actions gently. He turned back to Deb and smiled again, “Our people can get a little testy about being referred to as “What’s”, I apologize for the rudeness this can sometimes bring out. We are Fae. Humans sometimes call us Faeries,” finished the Pastor hopefully.

Deb looked flatly at the Pastor. This was ridiculous. No one here looked anything like a fairy. No wings, no antennae, they didn’t shimmer or have little bells ringing whenever they moved about, no pointy ears. Nothing like Deb had read in books or seen in the media.

“The Fae are able to shapeshift,” the Pastor said, as though able to read her mind from the incredulity on her face. “Typically we just alter our size, but we can cast glamorous that alter our appearances otherwise as well. We use our collective magicks to cast a glamour over this entire town usually to prevent anyone outside of our group from finding it.”

But somehow you were able too. I’ve been thinking about why you were able to and I think it’s a combination of the weakened magicks with you having perhaps been fae-touched as a child.” The Pastor was scratching his chin now, more lost in thought than speaking directly to Deb.

“But this is something I can think on when I have more time. The issue is that you cannot be here. We cannot have a human living amongst the Fae. It’s bad enough you found us at all. We’re going to have to make stronger plans for future visits to this Realm, but for now I think it’s best that we all return Home early for the season.”

There was a gentle rumble of protests from the gathered citizens. Deb looked around at everyone. She was still in awe that everyone seemed to really be going along with this narrative.

The Pastor raised and lowered his forearms to calm the group. “I know how you all feel. I’m not a fan of the idea either. Usually we spend the Spring and Summer in this realm and go back to the Fae realm for the Fall and Winter. However we cannot risk further contaminating this Human. We must go and we must do it today before the situation gets any worse.”

When we are home we will reassess what needs doing and return to this Realm next Spring. I’m very sorry that it has come to this but I think we all know that it needs to be done,” The Pastor finished with a pleading look on his face.

There was silence from the crowd at first. A few of the gathered glared directly at Deb, as though they were blaming her for ruining something.

Then Mary spoke up, “The Pastor is right. We only seek to go out and observe Humans on our own terms. We cannot have one wandering within our boundaries observing us. It’s simply too risky.”

There were grunts of assent after this, followed by a few nods. After a few moments there seemed to be a general agreement from the crowd that this was the correct solution for everyone.

The Pastor then turned back to Deb. “We’re leaving now. We realize none of what happened was your fault but we need to correct what was done and try to maintain our secrecy to some degree. You will not see any of us ever again in your life. I sincerely hope you have a blessed one.”

Then everything slowly began to shimmer. Deb first noticed the shimmering around the edges of the Pastor, then looked around and noticed everyone else was shimmering. Along with that they were becoming increasingly translucent by the second.

As Deb was looking wildly around the room she noticed that it was not just the people, but the room itself was disappearing. Not just the room either, but the entire church structure. Everyone and everything around her was evaporating right before her eyes.

Deb pinched herself again and again while she hyperventilated. She could not believe what she was seeing and fell to her knees. The last thing she could see clearly before all of them fading away was the woman named Mary, looking down sadly at Deb, before it all faded away completely.

After ten minutes of trying to get her breathing back under control Deb shakily stood back up. She did a full turn and noticed that somehow her scones were still neatly on the tray, just placed on a rock now instead of a table. She left them there for the animals.

Deb walked back through the forested area with it’s walking paths where the downtown used to be. She looked around curiously, trying to spot any residual evidence of the town that had been there just this very morning.

At last Deb arrived at her cottage, or more accurately where her cottage had stood. It was gone now too along with everything else in town. All of her belongings had been neatly boxed up and stacked. The boxes were all labeled in her own handwriting.

The only thing that was not in Deb’s handwriting was an envelope taped to the top of the boxes. When she opened the envelope she found a note and $100,000 in cash.

Deb left the cash securely in the envelope and removed the note. As she unfolded it and started to read she noticed that the handwriting was the same neatly written cursive that was on the envelope.

“Dear Deborah,

I’m terribly sorry about all the trouble we caused. I realize coming home and finding, or rather a lack of finding, must only add to all the anxieties that are washing over you at the moment. To help alleviate this we have done our best to tidy-up and assist you until you are able to find again. As we would for any one who is even a temporary member of our community.

Sincerely,

Pastor Robert Donnelly”