Fireflies

Concerns the aftermath of the death of a loved one

“Nana’s gone, Jack.”

“Off with the fairies again?” Jack quipped, glancing at his watch. It was too early for a social call, so Nana must be wandering again.

Their grandmother was prone to flights of fancy, particularly where the Fae were concerned. She had delighted both Jack and his sister with tales of sightings and fairy hunting adventures from the time he and Betty were able to toddle into the backyard. As her dementia had worsened, so had her fairy obsession. She could be found wandering out past the arched trellis day and night prattling on to creatures unseen.

“Have you checked the backyard?”

Jack could hear Betty take a deep breath before she responded. “She’s not in the yard, bro. She passed during the night.”

“What do you mean passed?” Jack asked. “Like dead passed?”

“Yes, Jack, like that. Can you come over? I can’t find her lockbox anywhere and I need her birth certificate,” Betty said. He could tell by her tone she was holding back tears as she tried to take care of the business at hand.

“I’ll have to make a few calls, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Let’s hope she didn’t bury the thing in the back garden.”

“Oh, god,” Betty breathed and then ended the call.

#

“Here it is!” Jack called to his sister from behind the altar his grandmother had dedicated to Awn-ya, Queen of the Fairies. Tucked in the corner of the screened porch behind gauzy drapes, the small chest of drawers was the last place he had thought to look.

Betty hurried into the room. “Please tell me the key’s with it.”

“Right in the lock,” Jack said, placing the box on top of the chest so his sister could get to it.

As she sorted through the contents, he emerged from behind the drapes holding two butterfly nets. “Hey, wanna catch fairies later?” Jack gave the nets a little shake.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Betty said without looking up from her sorting. “That was amusing when I was seven. Besides it’s past mating season for fireflies, so there’ll be nothing to swoop up and put in a jar.” She dug in the box and handed him a stack of papers. “Here, be useful instead of sentimental and help me go through this mess.”

“Fine,” Jack said, putting down the nets and relieving her of the stack. “But if I find Nana’s birth certificate, you buy dinner.”

“Done,” Betty said.

#

The last of the funeral guests had left late in the afternoon and Jack insisted Betty take her family home.

“But the caterers?”Betty had been supervising them, and they were still packing up.

“They’re almost done, Sis. It’s been a long day. You’re tired. The kids are over having to be polite and careful about where they sit their glasses. If you leave now, they can sneak in a late swim before dinner,” he said. “Burn off some of that energy they’ve been storing up all day.”

“That’s a good idea.” Betty called the kids and picked up her purse. “You’ll be okay here on your own?”

Jack shook his head and smiled at her. “I’ll have to be, won’t I?”

Numerous hugs, kisses, promises of a barbeque on the weekend, and the last of the catering staff out the door later, Jack finally had a moment to himself. He popped some ice in a glass, poured himself a large whiskey, took a sip, and headed for the screened porch. Lighting the votives on Nana’s altar, he took a seat in her favorite wicker chair next to it and blew out a long breath. He was glad he had decided to buy the house from the estate. He had always loved it and now he could keep it in the family. “Nice for the kids,” he thought, “but the décor will need a bit of updating.” His grandmother had been very fond of crocheted doilies, but he was more into Scandinavian modern.

Swirling the glass, enjoying the sound of the ice clinking against the crystal, Jack sat staring out at nothing as night shadows started to fill the yard. Suddenly there was a tiny pin prick of light out in the woods beyond the arched trellis that stood toward the back of the lawn. At first he thought he had imagined it, but as he watched more carefully, another appeared and then another. Soon there were dozens.

“I thought Betty said their mating season was over.” Jack put down his glass and reached for the butterfly nets he had left tucked beside the chest. “Watch out fireflies! I’m coming to catch some fairies.”

#

Stepping out on the back lawn, Jack crept slowly toward the trellis. It sat in the center of a hedge of roses his grandparents had planted to divide the yard. Formal gardens on the house side, woodsy ones beyond the archway. One of the best parts of visiting had always been exploring the wild world at the back of the property. As he moved forward, he felt that same sense of excitement flow through him that he had as a kid. Maybe this time it would be different. Before it had been catching fairies only to have them turn into a fireflies once he put them in his jar.

“But tonight, I didn’t bring a jar,” he thought as he reached the arch way. “It will have to be catch and release I guess.”

Reaching the trellis, Jack stopped for a moment to gaze in wonder at the swarm of tiny flashing lights flitting through the tree branches. There must have been hundreds of them dancing and darting between the hedge and the wood. Resisting the urge to jump in yelling “Got yah!” like he used to so long ago, he walked quietly under the trellis instead. While the lights continued to blink, all other movement ceased. The night breeze went still, and Jack came to a halt as he reached the center of the back garden. The lights were watching him. He could feel them. He let the net hang limply at his side as he felt the energy around him intensify as though a storm was going to break. He jumped at the feel of hand on his shoulder. Gasping, he sprang away and turned to confront whoever was there.

“Jack-Jack, don’t be a silly. It’s only me.”

“Nana.” Jack took a step toward his grandmother shaking his head. She stood in the archway, ethereal and glowing with a soft light. “How…”

“You’ll not catch fairies tonight, my dear,” the apparition smiled that familiar gentle smile. “They’re here for me, my escorts through to the Land of the Living. Thank you for lighting my votives so they could find their way.” She crossed to him and gave his cheek a pat. “Whatever you do, keep lighting those. That way I’ll know all is well with you. Off you go to finish your whiskey. Make sure to pour a glass out in the garden for Awn-ya to thank her for my passage.”

“I will, Nana. I promise,” he said, holding back tears as he reached for her.

Jack couldn’t tell whether Nana had walked around him or through him, but she disappeared. Instinctively, he looked back toward the trees. She was there surrounded by all the tiny pinpoints of light. In a shimmer, they were gone, and he was left alone staring into the dark.

#

It took the better part of a year, but Jack finally was able to celebrate the renovations to the house. Gone were the doilies and the dark paneling. The screen porch had been converted to a sunroom that overlooked a new patio and pool. Betty and the kids had been invited over for a tour and an inaugural swim.

While they sat pool side watching the children, Jack and Betty chatted about the changes and the upcoming anniversary of their grandmother’s passing.

“I think Nana would like most of what you’ve done,” Betty said, “especially the kitchen. She always wanted to do something there. And I love that you’ve turned her doilies into a wall hanging for the entrance hall.”

Jack laughed. “I tried, but I couldn’t get rid of them entirely. So now they get to be art instead of table covers.”

Betty laughed. “She’d also be pleased that you kept the rose hedge and trellis.”

“Part of the family history, Sis. Besides, they’re beautiful this time of year and I’ve always had an affinity for the wild garden behind them, so I didn’t want to touch that.” Jack had never shared his experience the night of the funeral with his sister. He didn’t think she would believe him, so she didn’t need to know how it had affected his landscaping choices.

“I am curious about one thing. Why keep the fairy queen altar?” Betty asked.

“Have to have some place to keep those fairy catching nets,” Jack said. “It’s almost firefly season and your kids need to learn to hunt.”