An Ordinary Fairy

  “No, not most of the time. Only on certain occasions.”

  And that’s all I’ll learn on that subject.

  They lay for a few minutes before Willow spoke again. Noah sensed her disquiet.

  “Noah, Mother thought I should tell you how I got these.” She held up her wrists and displayed the half moon scars. “She thought it would help you understand me better.”

  “What do you think, sweetheart? Are you ready for that?”

  Willow shrugged. “I don’t know if ready is the right word. I’ll tell you if it’s important to you.”

  Noah thought for a moment. “Willow, I want to know everything about you. I want to know your story.”

  “Alright.” Willow laid her head down on Noah’s shoulder and snuggled close to him. She stared into the fire and began to speak.

  Willow’s voice, her entire demeanor, became trance-like. As she recalled the occurrences and words of long past events, she pressed herself closer and curled into a tight, tense ball, drawing her legs up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. Noah put his arms tightly around her as she quivered and shook.

  On and on she went, each awful detail surpassed by the next. More than once Noah thought to stop the macabre account. After many minutes, Willow reached the end. All was said; no questions were needed. She fell silent and stopped shaking. Soon her breathing grew regular; she had escaped to the peace of sleep.

  Noah’s rage burned hot for his lover. Had she not been in his arms he would have risen from the bed and found something to destroy, to smash, to slash. He lay fuming for nearly an hour while his sweet fairy slept. His mind returned often to their conversation at the cemetery.

  Perhaps I don’t want to know everything.

  He stroked her hair, his touch chancing across the welt from Jones’s attack.

  If only I could nurse away all your hurts.

  Willow stirred and woke. She smiled. “Did I shock you?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry I put you through telling me.”

  She patted his chest. “It’s better I did. One less secret between us.” She paused. “I wish you didn’t have to leave. Are you sure you can’t stay tonight? Two months until I see you again is a long time.”

  “Sweetie, I haven’t started to pack, and I want to see the guys at Henning’s in the morning. If I stay with you I won’t get any sleep.”

  Willow stuck her lip out in a pout. “I’ll be lonesome without you.” She fluttered her eyelashes and wings in a pretending flirt.

  “I already promised to stop by when I leave town. About eight.”

  “Okay,” she said in her little voice.

  “I need to go. It’s late and I have a long drive tomorrow.”

  They climbed out of bed and dressed. Before donning her shirt, Willow flew about the atrium and extinguished the remaining candles. They locked the door behind them and walked hand in hand to the cottage. Willow opened the door, but Noah didn’t go in. He took her in his arms and held her close.

  “The wicked photographer is going to miss the golden-haired little fairy.”

  Willow giggled. “She’s going to miss him, too.” A broad range of emotions floated between them, both his and Willow’s. He kissed her gently and let her go.

  “Good night, sweet fairy.”

  “Good night, my Noah.”

  Noah walked through the dark woods toward the truck. He stopped at one point to listen to the nightsong. The name Jones Woods would stay with this place for many years to come, he knew. For him, it would never be anything but Willow’s Woods.

  Twenty-Seven

  Noah pulled the truck into the Henning’s parking lot at six-thirty sharp. The usual crew greeted him inside, and then chastised him for leaving them in the dark as to his whereabouts. They plied him with questions about the events at Jones Woods. Even Louie joined in the animated discussion.

  “Were you there the night Jones got killed?” Frank asked.

  “Yes,” Noah said. “Well, not where he died I mean. I was at the cottage with Ms. Brown.”

  Harry picked up on this and grinned slyly. “But Noah, Jones died sometime after midnight they say. Were you at her house that late?” He winked at Noah as he spoke.

  Lawrence’s face turned dark with shock. “Noah! You’ve been sleepin’ with that woman, haven’t you?” An air of righteous indignation surrounded him, having caught Noah deep in sin.

  “Well,” Noah said, “we did sleep some of the time.” A pause preceded a loud outbreak of laughter that drew the attention of everyone in the building.

  Noah ate a big breakfast, filled up his coffee thermos and made ready to leave. He said many goodbyes, promised to return sometime and shook hands all around, last with Louie.

  “Louie, could you come out to the truck for a minute? I need to ask some advice.” The old man assented and they walked outside.

  “Noah, I’m sure glad you come along,” Louie said. He smiled broadly, squinting at the bright morning light.

  “And I’m sure glad you sent me to Willow’s woods,” Noah said. “You’ve changed my life, Louie.” He paused and studied the old man’s features. “You know, don’t you Louie?”

  The smile faded from the old man’s face, replaced by embarrassment. “Know what?” he asked.

  I’m on safe ground.

  “You know that Willow is a fairy.”

  Such an open pronouncement of the truth seemed to shock Louie, but then he nodded, his face grim. “I’ve knowed for thirty years.” He gazed at the ground for a long moment before raising his head. His eyes glistened. “I didn’t know her ‘til after her parents died. Oh, I’d seen her around once or twice, but that was all. Then one day, I’d had a big row with Catherine and went to a bar to forget about it. When I left, I was too drunk to go home, so I went for a drive in the country. I wound up in the ditch at the edge of the woods. I was angry with myself. I just got out and started walkin’ along the edge of the fields. I seen a trail into the woods and followed it, I don’t know why.

  “When I got to the pond, she was there, swimmin’ in her birthday suit. I was drunk enough to want to take a good look. All of a sudden, she come up out of the water and started flyin’ all around. I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe how beautiful she was.” He paused. “I’ve loved her ever since that moment. I was just a young buck like you, and I was married, besides I wasn’t anything to look at, so nothing could come of it. Three weeks later Bill Anders called me to see if I could help her out around the property. I jumped at the chance.

  “I was more careful from then on, let her know I was comin’, whistling and stuff when I got close. One time I forgot and scared her and she just up and disappeared.” He chuckled for a moment, and then sighed. “Noah, now I’m an old man with a limp, but she’s not a day older than she was then. Remember that.”

  “Louie, thanks for taking care of her all those years.” Noah paused.

  Is he ready for this?

  “I notice you always call Willow ‘Ms. Brown.’”

  “That’s her name, isn’t it? Wouldn’t be proper to call her anything else.” His voice betrayed uneasiness.

  “Yes, it would, Louie. She would like it if you called her Willow. You’ve never said her name, have you?”

  Louie shook his head. “It’s like I can’t.”

  “I know the feeling, but you should try, Louie. You’ll be glad you did.”

  Louie seemed unsure. He opened his mouth to speak, his lips tried to form the w, but nothing came out.

  Noah placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Louie.”

  After one more effort, he spoke the magic name. “Willow.” It came out slowly as it had for Noah. He said her name again, stronger the second time. “Willow.”

  Noah smiled. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Louie glanced toward the restaurant, and then gave Noah a quick hug.

  “Well, I’d best get back in there,” Louie said. He shook Noah’s hand firmly. “Noah, don’t tell her I know.?
??

  “Why not?”

  “It would change everything. I’ve sort of been lyin’ to her all these years. Best she not know. You know how she can be.”

  Noah snickered and nodded. “Alright, Louie.” They said their goodbyes and Louie returned to the gang.

  Noah turned the truck around at the tree across the lane. Bright morning sun slanted through the woods. Many leaves had fallen since he arrived in Hoopeston. Was it just two weeks ago? He picked up a small paper sack from the seat and slowly walked the path to the cottage, Willow’s presence growing stronger with every step he took. She was melancholy this morning, as he was. When he reached the clearing, she waited for him outside. She smiled sweetly, but he felt her heavy heart. She wore her green plaid flannel shirt and tight jeans.

  “Good morning, Cowboy,” she said.

  Noah chuckled. “Good morning, Supergirl. Did you sleep okay?”

  Her smile faded. “No.”

  Noah handed her the paper bag. “This is for you. To add to your collection.” Willow opened the sack and cackled with delight. She held up a child’s size John Deere ball cap that matched Noah’s. He helped her adjust the band and she put it on. “Perfect,” Noah said.

  “Thanks, Noah.” Willow extended her hand. “Let’s walk down to the pond,” she said.

  Why the pond? We’ve not had good times there.

  He took her hand and they started down the path.

  “What are you going to do now that things have settled down?” Noah asked as they walked. “Still thinking about the safe house project?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve emailed with Rowan and a few others about it, and they think it’s a great plan. Something we’ve needed in the area. Rowan’s coming up in a couple of weeks so we can start laying out the changes we’ll need to make to the Big House. By the time you come back we should have a few walls knocked out.”

  If you’re so excited, what’s troubling you so?

  Willow’s sadness grew as they approached the pond, but Noah also sensed uneasiness. Bright sunlight washed across the rock ledge. They sat close together overlooking the water, and Willow leaned her head against his shoulder. After several minutes, she sighed and faced him.

  “Noah, I need to tell you something. My mother said I should. Please don’t be angry with me. I hate it when you’re angry with me.”

  “What have you done that might make me angry?”

  “I … I lied to you. About my age.”

  “So? Don’t all women lie about their age?”

  “Not this much. Noah, do you remember my reaction that day when you told me about your ancestor, the first Noah Phelps?”

  The sudden change of subject confused Noah. “You seemed shocked, I thought, but you passed it off as something else.”

  “Yes. Well, I was shocked because … well. I’ll just say it.” She stopped and drew a breath, but seemed unable to say the words.

  “What does granddad Noah have to do with lying about your—” In an instant, multiple clues fell into place, and the connection struck him. A shiver coursed down his back, and then he saw Willow shudder.

  It can’t be.

  “I knew him,” Willow said quietly. Her demeanor was that of a child caught in a lie who must fess up the truth. “I was there, at Ticonderoga. We helped each other out of a tight spot.” She paused and looked up at Noah, hope in her eyes. “I was the one who suggested that he masquerade as a merchant looking for a shave.”

  Noah opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, but had no voice.

  “Noah, he was a wonderful man, just like you, so kind and helpful. He had the same sea-grey eyes. I think it explains the deja knew. You could be him, back from the past.”

  Noah’s power of speech returned, but he could only ask in a muted tone “How old are you?”

  Willow’s expression was apprehensive. “I was around one hundred ninety when I met him.” She paused to let this soak in, apparently thinking it best to feed Noah small chunks. “I never knew his real name. He was a spy and couldn’t tell me. I didn’t make the connection to you until you told me. That’s why I was so shocked. All these years and miles and there you were on my doorstep.”

  Noah stroked her cheek, caressed her lips. “You can’t be that old. You’re so young, so alive. When we’re in bed, you—” A thought jolted him, an image. He drew his hand away. “You didn’t … I mean you and he didn’t…”

  “No, no, no,” Willow said, a giggle bursting through. “We didn’t do it.” She smiled sweetly and took the hand he drew away and pressed it to her cheek. “I told you about him before. He’s the only other man who ever said he didn’t want to make love with me. I wanted to, I really did, but he wouldn’t. He was married and said it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. We were so in love, Noah.” She paused. “It broke my heart when he left. But you’re him, come back to me, and you brought my light back.”

  You’re four hundred and twenty years old…

  A devilish twinkle brightened Willow’s eyes. “So, no, there’s no chance I’m your many times great-grandmother.” She giggled again, and Noah caught the infection and laughed with her, then shook her by the shoulders.

  “Willow Brown!” he said, “or whatever your name is. You can be the most … frustrating … mysterious … irritating … incredible woman. The most wonderful woman I’ve ever known.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  Willow looked into his eyes. “You’re not angry with me?”

  Noah hesitated. “No, I’m not angry. Maybe at myself for being so stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid. Just a little naive. It’s a fault of the very young.” Those dark eyes twinkled at him. “I will say you took this much better than other humans I’ve told.”

  “Other … men?”

  Willow colored with embarrassment, then nodded.

  Noah contemplated her, serious again. “No wonder we were fooled,” he said. “Fairies lie very smoothly. What else have you lied about?”

  Willow frowned. “Nothing, I promise. There are things I haven’t told you, and my love, I can’t tell you everything, I just can’t, not even you. I have not lied about anything else.”

  “Okay. I believe you.” Noah checked the time. “I have to go, little fairy. Will you walk with me to the truck?”

  “Of course.”

  Hand in hand they strolled down the path, past the cottage and on toward Noah’s truck. Words weren’t needed; their hearts spoke. Steps came slower as they neared the tree across the lane, but try as they might to avoid arriving, they found themselves there.

  Willow turned a serious face to Noah. “I don’t know if this will mean anything to you, but I promise I will never lie to you again, Noah. I can’t say I won’t have any secrets, but I will never lie to you again.”

  Noah smiled. “That issue is gone. Kiss me.” So she did. He tapped her nose with one finger. “I expect you to behave while I’m gone, which I know will be a struggle without me to keep you in line.”

  Willow grinned. “I’ll try. You be careful in Louisiana. Oh, I almost forgot.” She reached into a pocket, withdrew a small metal object, and handed it to him. “This is a FairyNet key. It allows access to all the system features, including the secure email system. Plug it into an open port on your laptop and it will do the rest. I set up an account for you. Your ID is ‘Cowboy1.’”

  “How many fairies did you have to piss off to get an ID like that?”

  “A few. I have influence.”

  “I only check email late at night so you may need to be patient.”

  “Not my strong suit. Maybe you could come down around Christmas.”

  “I’ll try.” They kissed a final time. Noah’s hand strayed to Willow’s bottom. Something in her back pocket didn’t feel right. He dug into it and extracted his comb, which had gone missing the day before. He held it up for Willow to see. Her face and feelings spoke guilt and frustration.

  “How did this get there?” Noah asked.

&nb
sp; Willow blushed deep red and smiled sheepishly. “It must have been a little fairy. You know how they are.”

  “I’m beginning to.” Noah pocketed the comb. “See ya, sweet fairy.”

  “See ya, Cowboy.”

  He climbed into the truck and pulled away, watching in the mirror as Willow disappeared from view. She came into his thoughts.

  I LOVE YOU.

  Noah smiled. “I love you, too,” he said. Her presence slipped away as he reached the missing sign on the county road.

  Things are just beginning to get interesting.

  Author’s Note

  Most of the locations and businesses described in this story as being in Hoopeston are actual places that existed in the real city of Hoopeston, Illinois, at the time the story takes place, October 2006. Henning’s Root Beer Stand, Ruby Nell’s pub, Flowers by Molly Culbert, The Broom Closet, and the Hoopeston Public Library were where I described them and every bit as charming. The Broom Closet and the Witch School have since changed hands and relocated to Rossville, a few miles south, and more recently, to Salem, Massachusetts. Alas, Ruby Nell’s pub closed its doors, but has since reopened in a new incarnation. Chester Jones’s home is based loosely on a real house in Hoopeston, but should remain private. The motel where Noah stayed has not been built yet, but plans are underway. The nursing home is attached to the hospital, but the Jones family did not build the new wing. The Big House is based on a real structure located on the Illinois River near Starved Rock State Park in northern Illinois. I added the widow’s walk, but the remainder of the exterior is just as I described it.

  Willow’s cottage is strictly a work of my imagination.

  The Arches is a real place in Danville, as are all the wonderful parks I mentioned.

  If you drive to Hoopeston to find Jones Woods and search the area southeast of town, I am sorry to say you will be disappointed to see only a large fertile field of corn or beans, depending on the year. Hoopeston was a convenient location to base the story, but to adequately Guard the Mystery, the true location of Jones Woods must remain just that—a mystery.