A Fairy Tale for Writers: Maybe Nana Doesn’t Need to Know

Oct 8, 2020 | Fiction

Contents


“Well. Good evening.”

“What? Where–” My eyes began to focus in the dimness of what appeared to be a cave.

“Fazitz and I brought you to my home. Hollow Bark. You… are a little drunk.”  The cave, I could see, now, was a cozy little room in the hollowed out trunk of a tree. It was sumptuously decorated. The walls were smooth and polished till they gleamed. Tapestries hung from them, with scenes of golden bees paying tribute to their queen. Tiny stitches, so delicate, depicted the painstaking production of honey. Each tapestry was bordered in intricate spirals of fairies squatting atop red, white, and purple clover or riding bees into battle.

Leiliaticia hovered over me. Her expression of concern was both alarming and comical. “I’m all right, I think.”

“We’re used to the dandelion pollen. I thought you might sneeze, but this – well, it’s a most curious side effect. I had forgotten how you humans made wine from it.” Nana had some Dandelion Wine in the cellar, but she had never let me try it. I might have to sneak in a nip, if I ever got big enough to pop the cork. Dandelions were dreamy. I lay back on a downy bed and smiled at the memory. My fingers hung over the side of the bed and touched something soft as a newborn kitten. Fazitz! The bee lay beside the bed, napping. Soft buzzing rumbled low in my ears, vibrating through my fingertips, a cross between purring and snoring. I stroked the wisps of bee-hair. A sharp slap brought me back to reality. “We have to get you home.”

“Can’t I stay a little longer?” I asked, feeling my lower lip curl in a pout, as if I were three and Nana had said it was time to go home from the town’s annual carnival.

“No,” said Leiliaticia sternly. “You’ve been out for hours. Your Nana will be worried sick. Come on, Fazitz. Time to hit the sky.” The fairy’s tone warned against any backtalk or debate.

“Can I come again? There’s so much I want to learn.”

“We’ll see. If your Nana approves, she’ll let us know.”

“Wait, what do you mean, she’ll let you know? She knows about you?”

“Of course, ninny. Did you think we made a habit of kidnapping little girls?”

“Do we need to tell her about the dandelions?”

Leiliaticia grinned at Fazitz. “Maybe she doesn’t need to know everything,” said the fairy.

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