Pixie Dust

Feb 26 2016

I started thinking about Tinkerbell after my brother’s kids watched her on Disney when they were over at my place. I’d never thought about her before then because I wasn’t interested in things like that. And I didn’t mean to start thinking about her when the kids were watching her, it was just something to shut them up. After they were gone I didn’t think about her for a few days either, but then I thought I saw her on the television again. I don’t think I had, I think I just thought I had.

Then when I was taking the garbage out I thought I saw her in the garden with my broken mower. That’d be nice, I thought, if a little fairy’d come and fix my mower. But when I went to fix the mower myself it’d already been fixed. After that I started seeing her all over the place, out of the corner of my eye, when I’d lost concentration on what I was doing. Then I was thinking about her all the time anyway, whether I was seeing her or not. I wondered how I had got so obsessed with a cartoon.

One night I dreamed about her. She was as real as it gets, like I could reach out and touch her. Then I woke up and went to the kitchen. And she was sitting there taking my kettle apart. “What are you doing?” I asked. “I’m improving this machine,” she said. It was true – she was making it better. After that the kettle started boiling whenever I woke up and came to the kitchen. I don’t know how she made the kettle work like that. I never took it apart to find out, because I didn’t want to wreck it.

After that, we were always together. When I was at home anyway. But I never got to question why we were always together like that. I just never wondered too much about where she had come from or why she was with me. I knew she wasn’t imaginary, because of my kettle and mower getting fixed, and my vacuum cleaner, my dish washer, clothes drier, and light switches – I knew I couldn’t fix those things like that myself, so I knew she was really there. Why would I question a helpful thing? And it just felt good having her around. She was always chatting to me and saying stuff that made me laugh, and never getting me angry. Then we were spending a lot of time in my garden a lot. It was a garden with good trees that the sunlight came through. And so I sort of got used to the fact that there was a real fairy in my house and I didn’t think about it anymore.

One day I was talking to her while John was over the fence in his yard, only I didn’t know John was there at all. And so John called out, “Who are you talking to over there?” And I called back, “Just talking to Tink here John,” without thinking, because I had got so used to her being there that I forgot it was strange to have a fairy with you. “Tink who?” said John. And then I felt like I had to tell the truth, because I was embarrassed. So I said, “Oh, it’s just Tinkerbell, my fairy. Come out Tink,” but Tink had run off. Then he called Jane out and everything. Jane was his wife. He told her there was a fairy and then she went all wide eyed and said “Ohhhh,” and could hardly stop from laughing, and they both invited themselves in. Then they made this big show of calling out “Tink! Tink!” and looking under the shrubs and saying “No, she’s not here. I wonder where can she be?” like that. That’s how Tink made me look like an idiot in front of Jane and John.

That night Tink wanted to pretend nothing had happened. She just showed up when I was watching TV just like as if everything was normal. Humming her little fairy tune and doing her little fairy business between her fingers. I turned to her.

“You don’t look like you do in pictures,” I said. It was true – she didn’t. She had a hard little pinched up face that was really nothing like the Disney face of her. Spinster face, I thought to myself, even though I had never thought of that before. “You look like a human, someone who had human problems. And you don’t sound like a fairy would. You sound like Mary Poppins.”

The little face went enraged. But not the hot kind of rage, more like the secret kind of rage. “I think you mean Julie Andrews,” she said, pretending she wasn’t angry. “But fairies can be people too, just like humans. Don’t you think I’m a person?”

“How did you get to be a fairy?” I asked her. Then she went very red, like a little old maiden would if you told her something she didn’t think was very proper. “What do you mean?” she said, “I’ve always been a fairy.” Then I didn’t say anything and I looked away, and we both got very silent.

The next day, it was me who pretended like nothing had happened. For that day I decided to myself that nothing had happened, and we had a good day. We did all the stuff we did together before. We laughed together all day and we had a good day. But then at night I started to cook. I was getting some flour and eggs and stuff to make some pasta strips. And Tink said, “What are you doing?” and I said, “Don’t you think I like to cook something sometimes?” and she said, “I don’t know that you do,” and I said “Well you don’t know me very well then do you,” and she went silent. And then I said ” I just thought I’d cook us some dinner. And John and Jane are invited too,” I said.

Then Tink got that little enraged face back again. “I won’t talk to them,” she said, “I’ll disappear.” And I said, “But what are you so afraid of, Tink? I just want us to have a nice dinner.” And she said, “No, I won’t do it.” And I said, “Are you sure about that Tink?” And she said, “I’ll disappear right now!” But before she could I grabbed her out of the air and put her on the cutting board and chopped her head off. When I cut the head off, the mouth on it shrieked, and all this sand came rushing out of the neck, like grey sparkly type sand. The head was off but the little mouth on it kept on shrieking, at this high pitch that went on and on, like when there’s ringing in your ears after they hear loud volume. But I pressed the blade of my knife through the face and cut the mouth and all the rest of it in half. Then the shriek stopped, and I scooped all the sand out. And I did the same with the body, which was all full of the grey sand. And then the skin with its little eyes and all was just like an old fish skin and I threw it with the garbage.

When Jane and John came to dinner I gave them some fancy snacks I cooked and we drank some fizzy wine. I played it cool like everything was ordinary, and then Jane asked, “Where’s Tink?” And then she glanced at John, and you know, something passed between them. And I just said “Oh, she’s coming later, you’ll see.” And then when I got them to sit at the table and I put out the pasta, they acted all surprised, like they didn’t know what was going on. “This fettucine looks very… unusual,” said John, “It’s a strange colour. Sort of silvery. What’s the secret ingredient?”

“Just a little bit of pixie dust,” I said.

But I didn’t have to try very hard to get them to eat it, because it smelled so good. “It smells so good,” said Jane. And then they were both shovelling it into their faces like they hadn’t eaten for weeks. And I ate too, and I’ll admit, it tasted pretty good.

But then after we finished we felt all a bit strange. “I feel kind of sparkly,” said John. And then I think we all knew what was happening, because we could all feel our wings. “No, I don’t want this to happen!” screamed Jane. But it was too late – it was already happening. That was how I got to know how Tink had got to be a fairy.

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