Elliot's Favorite Day

Elliot Hughes woke up excited that morning. It was his favorite day of the year. It was the first day of April, “April Fools’ Day”. On this day he could prank people without facing a lecture from his father. This was the only day he ever felt he could truly be himself when he spent time in the Human realm.

Elliot loved his father, but pretending to be Human was lame in his opinion. His dad, Rian Hughes, was one-hundred percent Human. His mother on the other hand, Marin Toadvale, was a Pixie. She lived in the Fae Kingdom with the rest of the Pixies. She traveled back and forth from there through a portal located in Wales.

Rian met Marin during a college trip to Wales. He was studying ancient Welsh history and never dreamed he would actually run into Ancient Welsh mythology in the flesh. Marin charmed him right off his feet and into her bed. Elliot did not like to think about gross stuff such as his parents being together, even if that is how he got to where he is now.

But today and now was not the time nor day for Elliot to dwell on the distant or near pasts or futures. Those contained a multitude of complex and confusing thoughts and emotions that Elliot did not want to think and feel about on his favorite day of the year.

Elliot had this all planned out. He knew he couldn’t get away with too much at school that day, still needing to pass as human and all. Half the fun was in planning out the perfect tricks to play on the correct people during the right periods to maximize his entertainment and his sense of smug satisfaction.

Elliot spent months building lists of students. His mom had taught him to only play tricks on humans who had been malicious. This seemed right and fair to him. He also needed to be careful about the pranks he chose to play. He wanted to cause anxiety to his peers in the way they had dogged him, but not leave any permanent scars, or do anything that anyone could prove was caused by someone or something otherworldly.

Elliot also did not want to cause his father any grief. When Elliot was younger Rian had needed to come up with a fair few awkward excuses to parents and teachers for Elliot’s mishaps. This was inevitably followed up by a long and patient explanation as to why Elliot could not set another child’s toys on fire just because the child had taken Elliot’s jello at snack time.

Elliot was older now though and had come up with a less destructive list of pranks to play on his bullies. Elliot had faced bullies his entire life. He looked like his mother in most ways. He was shorter than most of his peers. He had bright orange hair and green eyes, and his ears were a bit bigger than the other kids. His father would regularly assure him that he did not look any different than other kids his age, but his peers had a knack for finding any  of his perceived flaws.

For this reason April Fools’ Day had become Elliot’s favorite day of the year. It was the one day where he could use his Pixie magicks to remind those who had been malicious to think twice before they treat others in such a manner.

With his tricks all carefully planned out he got ready for his big day. Elliot changed out of his pajamas, into his school clothes, and put on his shoes. He carefully made sure that all of his homework was packed up in his backpack and grabbed a cold Pop-Tart as he headed for the door.

With one hand on the door Elliot turned slightly to call over his shoulder, “I’m leaving, bye Dad.”

“Have a good day at school. I love you, Elliot,” Rian replies.

“Love you too, Dad,” Elliot says back, only a little bashfully, before turning to go out the door and start his day.

As Elliot takes bites of his Pop-tart and walks to school he goes over his plans in his head. He has an overall goal of four peers to play his deliberately designed pranks on today. He hopes he is not overdoing it. He is trying to walk that fine line of having fun and not causing any problems for his father. This is the dearly heavy burden that a 14 year-old Pixie teenaged boy must carry.

Before anything Elliot had homeroom. He mentally went over his notes. One of the many things his mother had taught him was the power that the written word possessed. Not to mention that if his father or any other adult had found a list with his classmates names and a list of very wild things written next to them Elliot would have found himself trying to talk his way out of the middle of some very interesting questions.

First period was Literature, their instructor was a middle-aged woman named Ms. Devon. She had blue eyes and dyed hair kept in a messy bun on top of her head with many pens and pencils. Her hair appeared to be a color somewhere between purple and red depending on the light.

None of Elliot’s targets were in this class so he did his best to focus on the material they were studying. They had been reading late Victorian English poetry for the last week. They were discussing how it informed society and culture. Elliot usually liked Ms. Devon’s class, she tried to make her lessons relate to things he and the other kids could grasp onto.

Second period was Chorus and Elliot was prepared. Don McKay was in the chorus. Don and Elliot had known each other since kindergarten. Don had always been ranging from teasing to nasty. Everyday he found some way to talk down to Elliot, or tell other kids to stay away from Elliot, or his pens and pencils, or other petty attacks.

Mr. Guillén drew the class to attention. They had been working on a set for the Spring Festival. Don had a solo during one of the songs. This was when Elliot would strike. Don’s solo was not until the third song. This gave time for Elliot to be ready. 

Finally they were up to the third song and Elliot prepared himself. Finally everyone else stopped singing and Don went on alone. Only a few notes escaped, Elliot acted quickly. He made a few hand gestures low, and said a few sacred words under his breath.

Suddenly there was deafening silence. Don’s mouth moved, air still left his lungs, but no sounds came out. The look of shock on Don’s face made it worthwhile. Don gripped at his throat, an expression of terror and confusion played across his face. He looked at his classmates, then to his teacher. There were no reactions except for the expressions on Don’s face.

Suddenly from the front one of the older girls laughed. “Very funny, Don. You have no voice to practice. I thought you were more mature than to play such a lame prank today,” she said rolling her eyes. One of the girls next to her giggled. Then one of the boys. Soon the entire classroom was laughing either at the girl’s comment, or at “Don’s” prank.

Mr. Guillén waved Don down and gave him a pass to go to the nurse’s office. Elliot was not worried about that. He had included this in his plans, Don’s voice would return ten minutes after the spell was cast. If it did not wear off before he got office then the nurse would not even have time to run tests. They would think Don was playing a prank to get out of class.

Elliot cannot remember the last time he left class smiling this widely.

Next class was history with Mrs. Beaux. She was a younger woman with chin length brown hair and rectangular glasses with rounded corners that shielded grey eyes. She taught her subject with the kind of enthusiasm of a lifelong learner. She was speaking about Ancient and Classical Greek architecture. Most of the students were paying no attention to her. Elliot felt for Mrs. Beaux; she was passionate about her subject. He tried to pay attention most of the time.

None of Elliot’s tormentors were in this class either. It was a fairly quiet morning all things considered. But Elliot knew this afternoon would become much active with three more marks to unleash his pranks upon.

After History was over Lunch break started. Hillary Lopez was the most fashionable girl in school, at least she told this to everyone. Her parents had fancy jobs so she always had the most expensive clothing and accessories. This made her think she was fashionable. Elliot did not agree with this assessment. The other kids at school “ooh’d” and “aah’d”, very impressed with her expensive items..

Hillary was a year older than Elliot, in the Sophomore class. Two months after he had started High School she came up coo-ing over him saying that he was adorable. She asked if he would want to go out with her. Elliot’s face had turned as red as his hair, having only seen Hillary during Lunch Periods from afar. He could also see the gaggle of high school girls behind her, pointing and giggling. He did not say anything to her, storming off and shaking slightly.

Today at lunch Hillary had her favorite purse that she carried on her. It was some brightly colored Kate Spade number which she kept all her books, pens, and lunch. Elliot had a special for her lunch today. Hillary sat down with her friends and she reached into her bag and screamed. She pulled her hand out like it was burning and jumped back. From out of her back jumped a harmless, very confused toad. Hillary kept screaming while some boys from another table laughed. The other girls at her table pulled away remarking what a “gross” and “uncool” joke this was to play.

As Hillary ran out of the cafeteria to jeers and laughter Elliot thought this was the best peanut butter and jelly that he had made himself.

After Lunch was Art and Elliot loved Art. The art teacher Ms. Nicolati was exactly how you picture. She had short cropped hair, always messy, with flecks of paint in it. She wore jean overalls and, even though she wore a smock, those managed to become bespeckled by paint.  She let the kids express themselves freely and encouraged them to interpret the subjects openly.

In his art class he was aiming for someone. Reagan Clements was a girl his age. She doodled in other classes but never got in trouble. Because she was an “artist”, or so she told everyone. That was not bad, it was the caricatures she did of people who she did not like. She made this drawing of Elliot where she made him look like a stunted goblin. This drawing was passed around to almost everyone and resulted in two months of people referring to Elliot as an “imp” or “goblin”. He was a pixie! Nowhere near as grotesque as goblins or imps!

As art class started Elliot kept a close eye on Reagan while trying to work on his own piece. She was smiling and laughing with friends then reached down to grab the canvas folio where she kept her brushes. She pulled one out of the sleeve where it was kept in bright pink glitter spilled everywhere.

“Argh,” Reagan exclaimed. “What the hell?!”

“Language please,” Ms. Nicolati gently chided.

Reagan reached to pull a different paintbrush out and silver glitter poured out all over her lap and the floor.

“Knock it off!” One of her friends said. “You’re making a huge mess!”

“It’s not me!” Reagan explained. Her friend rolled her eyes and went back to her work.

Her other friend leaned over, “Look, I know it’s April Fools’ Day, but that stuff gets everywhere. If you want to soak yourself in it fine. But it’s getting on our bags and clothes, and poor Ms. Nicolati is going to have to clean it. Not cool, Reagan.”

Reagan looked from her friend to her paintbrushes, most of them still in their sleeves. She tried one more, pulling it out slowly. As soon as the tip left the sleeve purple glitter poured out to mix with the pink and silver.

“That’s enough, Reagan.” Ms. Nicolati said, taking a much sterner tone. “I allow my students to be expressive, but your ‘expressiveness’ is being disruptive. If you do not stop what you are doing I’m going to have to ask you to leave my classroom and go sit with the Principal until the end of class.”

“But I….” Reagan tried to explain.

“I’m sorry Reagan, but I have other students to teach.”

Reagan slowly put her paintbrushes back. She then picked up her things and with an apple red face left class. Elliot did not know if she was headed to the Principal’s office, or going to hide in the bathroom, but he was extremely satisfied with her embarrassed look.

The next period after Art was Math. This was not Elliot’s strongest subject, but he tried.  Mr. Spence did his best to get the kids understand but only three of the students seemed engaged and interested. The rest of the class either only sort of understood or was entirely lost. Elliot had no one for this class. This was good since he was better off paying attention then focused on pranks.

The last period of the day was Gym instructed by Coach Wynter. Coach was tall and handsome, his dark hair usually kept back in cornrows. Today his dark eyes hidden behind sunglasses, since class was outside. Coach was having everyone partner up to throw footballs, run to trade places, and throw the balls to each other again.

One of the star football players, a Junior named Charlie Keith, was in class with Elliot. He loved being the center of attention and lapped up all that came with being a star player. Part of all his bravado was picking on people who were smaller than him. The boys who were smaller than him anyway, he did okay with the girls. He loved picking on Elliot, short, big ears, looking different enough as to make him an easy target.

Elliot teamed up with another boy, but he was not paying that close attention to his own practice. Elliot was watching Charlie reach for a football from the pile the Coach had provided. Once again Elliot made a few quick hand gestures and muttered a few words. Charlie bent down to pick up a football and it slipped right out from his grip. He looked confused, staring back and forth from his hand to the ball. He tried to grab again but again it slid from his grip, as though it were coated in oil.

“Come on, grab a ball!” Charlie’s partner called over.

“I’m trying.” Charlie called back.

Elliot caught the ball from his partner and threw it back before running to change places. He kept an eye on what was going on, the Coach walking over to Charlie and the balls.

“What’s going on over here?” inquired the Coach.

“I, um, I can’t seem to get a grip on any of the balls…..” Charlie managed to get out.

Coach Wynter gave him a skeptical look and reached down for the balls. The Coach picked it up with ease and held it up for Charlie to see. He then lobbed it to Charlie. Charlie went to catch it and found that it slid right from between his grip and bounced off the ground.

The Coach sighed, “Charlie, you’re one of the best athletes our school has; I know you can catch a ball.”

“I don’t know what’s happening Coach!” Charlie exclaimed.

The Coach took another deep breath, rubbed his eyes, then put a gentle hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “If you just want to sit this one out I’ll let it slide for today. But you can’t get away with this all the time. You’re becoming an adult, you can’t use the excuse of an April Fools’ Prank to get out of your responsibilities.”

“But I really can’t hold onto them!” Charlie exclaimed, making a grab at the ball to demonstrate.

The Coach picked the ball up off the ground and pointed at the bleachers. “Just sit out for today. I’ll do the activity with your partner so he doesn’t have to miss out. We’ve wasted enough of his time already.” With that Couch Wynter walked onto the open field.

By now Elliot was getting a bit winded from the running. His grin was wide to the point of being almost goofy, as Elliot watched Charlie walk towards the bleachers, and sit there staring at his own hands until the end of school bell had rung.

As Elliot walked home from school that day he could not remember a more successful April Fools’ Day that he had ever experienced. Each year his abilities were growing and each year he learned how to be more subtle with his tricks. Although it could be trying at times, there was a part of him that truly enjoyed the sneaky aspect he had to take on around Humans. When he punished the mean and nasty Humans it made him delirious to see their bewilderment on their faces, and in that respect today had been a roaring respect. He had learned he also liked to be subtle when being helpful, like when he tried to help his father with chores.

Being a Pixie in the Human realm was never easy, but Elliot was learning to cope. He hoped someday he would even find it easy and enjoyable any time he visited.