Dream Of Fairies
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A little while later, the sun rose and a soft light filled the room. The bed was cold as he rolled over in it. The dream hadn’t been real; there had never been any fairies, not even one, and certainly none that were beautiful and graceful like that young woman.
His dreams always consisted of him doing something heroic or trying to stop someone else from being hurt—the kind of dreams you only have when you’re young and naïve about how things work. He thought he’d outgrown those dreams years ago when reality hit.
He looked at himself in the mirror on his bureau before he got up to shave. When did my beard turn white? He wondered for a moment why he hadn’t noticed it until now, then put it down to his age—he turned thirty-two last summer.
Then I can blame it on the gray hair. Gray hairs were nothing new to him; they had just started appearing more recently than usual. It was still dark outside so he decided against shaving with a straight razor.
There’s no sense going overboard on my first day back on the job. So instead he shaved with a disposable safety razor. He used the same soap and lotion he’d been using since his teens. In fact, his entire bathroom and bedroom were unchanged except for some slight rearranging.
When he finished shaving, he dressed in an old brown corduroy sports coat and blue jeans and went downstairs. He’d planned to get coffee and toast and sit down to read the newspaper in front of the fireplace, but when he reached the kitchen, all he found was coffee and breakfast dishes still waiting to be cleaned. He washed them quickly and set them aside to dry in the oven.
After breakfast, he made a quick call home to make sure everything was okay. His family had already left for church and told him to take his time getting ready so he could come over afterward to join them. They said they would meet him in the parlor.
He didn’t want to miss their company again today. It’s not that I’m antisocial or don’t enjoy their company, it’s just that I’ve been away too long for them to understand me anymore. It had gotten better over the past several months though, and they seemed closer now than ever before. He hoped this trip wouldn’t ruin what they’d begun.
“I’ll be along shortly,” he said as he hung up his cell phone. “Have some breakfast.”
His mother served him scrambled eggs with fried ham and grits and bacon alongside his cup of coffee. She’d baked muffins earlier in the morning so there were plenty of those available for his younger brother and sisters as well.
The table was covered with fresh flowers she’d picked in her garden, so the entire room smelled of orange blossom perfume and lemon drops. A vase of freshly cut lilacs sat on top of his mother’s piano where he knew she liked to look at them from time to time. As soon as he’d finished eating, he excused himself to go upstairs and get dressed.
When he entered the parlor, the family greeted him with smiles and hugs. His sister, Laura, hugged him tightly around the neck with her curly blond hair brushing his face. She wore a black wool dress with a matching jacket that was buttoned up tight at the neck and sleeves that were cuffed at her elbows.
His youngest sister, Rachel, who was six years younger, had a white silk pinafore on under her plaid school uniform jumper and a red bow in her hair.
She is going to need braces soon, he thought as she gave him another hug.
The other children rushed to him, all giving him a kiss on either cheek or forehead. The house was quiet with no one to argue with, but he missed their bickering. He took his seat at the head of the table and waited for them to finish.
His father, Charles, was a short man who looked much older than his sixty-five years of age. His wife, Martha, was a tall woman with long black hair. Her gray eyes had the same sharpness in them that her husband’s had. She smiled at him as he settled into his chair.
“We know you’ve been away for a while but we are glad to see you’re back safe and sound,” she said. “Your father and I have been worried about you.”
“You’re both worrying about nothing,” he said with a grin.
“Oh no, we know better than that,” she replied with a chuckle. “It isn’t good to keep secrets from your family so don’t think for a second we haven’t guessed why you’re really here—we just want you to tell us yourself.”
“How did you guess?” he asked with a frown.
“We’ve heard all kinds of rumors over these past few months,” Martha said, “and none of them sounded like you.”
“What sort of rumors?” he asked quietly.
“That you were traveling through Africa or somewhere out in the jungle and almost died of malaria or something equally awful,” his father said, shaking his head. “Or maybe you had a run in with a dangerous criminal, like an escaped convict on the loose.”
“And then there’s this latest one that says someone kidnapped you and kept you hidden until it got dark,” Martha added, laughing. “They say you even had to sleep outside in a tent because they couldn’t fit you inside their house.”
“Well, you’ve got some imagination for a bunch of simple country folk,” he said. He laughed as well and turned to his siblings to explain how all the stories about him were false. When he finished, his mother looked confused.
She had always considered him an honest man and now he’s telling us that he never left town after all? What could have happened to him while he was gone that would change his mind about leaving?
“I can see by your faces that I’ve got more explaining to do,” he said with a sigh. “My last trip was only supposed to be for a week or two, but it ended up lasting eight months.”
“Eight months!” his mother gasped. “But we saw you when you came home three days ago.”
“Yes,” he said, “but I was still recovering from my injuries, and you all wanted me to stay longer to rest. So instead of coming back the next day, I decided to spend another night in the hospital.”
“So what happened?” his oldest brother, James, asked. “Why didn’t you come back sooner?”
He shook his head. “Things didn’t work out quite as I planned.”
As he explained how he’d traveled to San Francisco to find a ship that would take him overseas, his father interrupted to ask, “Was there anything unusual about the trip? Was there any trouble on board, like pirates attacking the ship or people getting sick?”
“No, not on the ship, but when we landed in New York City, things went awry,” he admitted. “Someone tried to rob me at knifepoint.”
“Robbed you! You mean you’ve actually been robbed once in your life?” his mother exclaimed. “What kind of luck did you have to meet such a person?”
“I met one of those men you’ve always warned me against,” he said. “But before anyone else could get hurt, I jumped between them and put myself between them and the others.”
“Did you kill anyone?” Martha asked.
“No, thank God for small favors,” he replied with a grimace.
“Then why did you have to jump into a fight like that?” James asked.
“Because I knew if I didn’t try to protect them, the robber would have killed all five of them.”
His mother looked down at her hands for a moment, but she quickly turned back to him with a puzzled expression.
“Why did you go to New York City, to begin with?” she asked. “We thought you hated big cities and wouldn’t ever want to travel to one.”
“I love New York,” he answered, “, especially Chinatown. There are wonderful shops, delicious food, and plenty of places to stay—all without having to pay high prices. And that’s where I planned on spending most of my time.”
“But when you reached Manhattan, did you find what you were looking for?” his father pressed. “Are you planning on returning to China again?”
“Not exactly,” he said with a smile. “When I found the ship I was searching for, it was much larger than I expected, with more passengers already aboard than I would have liked. It was also scheduled to sail in less than a month, and I wasn’t sure I could make the crossing on short notice.”
“But you managed somehow,” his mother said, impressed.
“I had a friend in San Francisco who worked as a ticket agent,” he explained. “One of the other passengers on board was a man named Peter Tso, an elderly Chinese gentleman who shared my interest in history and art. We talked about our favorite books and paintings, and it turned out that Peter had spent decades in Europe and Asia and could speak several languages besides English.”
“And that’s when you realized you could use an interpreter, too,” his mother said.
He nodded. “The ship set out two weeks early and arrived in Italy just as planned. The problem was that I had no idea how to contact Peter. No phone number or address was listed on either side of the ocean, so I assumed he might have gone to live somewhere in America. But I couldn’t let myself believe that.”
“You mean you actually went to see him in person?” his father asked. His face lit up with joy at the prospect. “How did he like meeting you?”
“Very much,” he replied with a laugh. “He invited me to lunch at one of the nicest restaurants in Rome, and then took me to visit a couple of museums.”
“It sounds like you had a great time,” his mom said. “Is there any chance you’ll return?”
“Unfortunately, my plans aren’t exactly settled at this point,” he replied. “If I do, I hope to bring Mary along.”
Mary’s brow furrowed. “But you told me you’re never going to marry. I don’t understand why you’d change your mind now.”
He sighed. “You have to remember that this is a business arrangement. It’s nothing romantic, so please don’t think otherwise.”
“So what happened?” she persisted. “Who was the lucky man?”
“My boss, Thomas Burke,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m sorry. He doesn’t strike me as a likely candidate for marriage. I guess you know that already.”
“I’m not worried about his suitability,” Mary said. “What I meant is that I hoped you’d found someone closer to your own age—”
“That’s another thing,” he interrupted. “You’ve probably heard that some men my age prefer older women.”
“Oh,” she said, disappointed by his answer, but unwilling to give up. “Do you like them better than younger ones?”
“No,” he said with a wry smile, “but I can’t say the same about young women.”
“I’m twenty-seven,” she pointed out. “Isn’t that close enough to my age?”
“Close,” he replied. “Just not quite. But when you come home from Europe, maybe we’ll talk about it.”
“Talk?” she repeated with a surprised look. “What will we talk about? And why would you want to discuss it in private?”
“Well, first, because you’re the only person I know who has traveled overseas.”
She laughed. “You mean aside from me.”
“Yes, and I’d like to hear firsthand about the things I should be looking for when I start traveling again.”
“You want to know if I saw anything interesting?”
“More than that,” he explained, “like the types of art and literature they sell or where people buy souvenirs or eat the best food. Things like that.”
Mary looked at him curiously, wondering what he wanted her to tell him about. Was there something else he didn’t trust his memory with? She glanced down at his hand, which still rested on the back of the chair.
“We’d better get you to bed,” his father said, standing. “It’s been a long day for all of us.”
He held out his hand. “Come here and give me a hug before we go,” he said and gave her a kiss on top of her head.
***
A week later Mary sat on the edge of the tub, watching the steam rise off the hot water. After a full day spent working on the house, she felt good enough to take a nice soak in the big wooden tub in their bedroom.
As she washed the sweat and dirt off herself, she thought about everything that had happened since last night’s bath. The day after they finished unpacking the crates of books and artwork, she met with their new neighbors, a married couple who owned the general store.
They were very welcoming and offered to show her around town. Then she visited the bank to open up an account there, and she did use Thomas Burke’s name. That wasn’t a problem, since Burke’s business was based in San Francisco.
She hadn’t known much about banks when she signed the papers, but the manager seemed to think it was the most convenient way to handle their finances. In between shopping trips, she went over to the schoolhouse to meet Mrs. Crayton, whom everyone called Miss Molly.
Miss Molly was a short, plump woman with gray hair and rosy cheeks. She greeted Mary warmly, offering her a seat in a rocking chair near the window. “I’m so pleased you chose to come to our little burg,” she said, taking a sip from her cup of tea.
“And I’m happy to be here,” Mary agreed. “Everyone seems very friendly.”
“There’s no place like home,” Miss Molly remarked, “when it comes to friends. You’ll find that most folks are willing to help each other out, especially around here.”
The old teacher smiled at her with a twinkle in her eyes, then looked down at her teacup for a moment, frowning as if lost in deep thought. “I don’t know if you’ll find that true everywhere,” she admitted, “but it certainly is among those who live on the frontier.”
After they finished their conversation, Mary thanked Miss Molly for visiting and returned to the house. When she reached their bedroom, she was surprised to see Thomas sitting on the foot of the bed, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, startled by his unexpected appearance. “Where have you been today?”
“I ran into one of the local cowhands and we stopped by to pay him a visit,” he explained. “Didn’t want you to worry about me if you got caught up in something.”
“Why would I worry?” she shot back. “This isn’t Kansas.”
“It may seem that way to you, but I’d still feel better if I knew where you were and who you were talking to.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You’re going to do great here.”
“Great?”
“Yeah, great,” he assured her. “In fact, you might even make some good friends along the way.”
“Friends!” The word brought a smile to her face. She hadn’t expected to become a member of the community any time soon, considering all her responsibilities as Mrs. Burke. But she could use a few more connections in case of emergencies. “That’s very sweet of you to say, but I doubt it.”
“Oh, I doubt it too, but just in case, that’s how I’d do it,” he explained. “Find someone to talk to and ask them to introduce us to others.”
“How exactly do you plan to go about meeting people?” she countered. “I can hardly walk down the street without running into someone I know.”
“Maybe not here,” he conceded, “but this is a small community. People talk. Word will travel fast if you get involved in any trouble.”
She nodded her head in agreement and took her husband’s hand. It didn’t matter where she was; Thomas would always protect her, she thought, smiling at him.
***
Thomas Burke stood next to the stove in the kitchen and watched Mary cook supper. He liked cooking; it helped him concentrate on something besides worrying about his wife’s safety. He tried not to let her go anywhere alone, but sometimes they needed to leave the house together or she had to attend one of the meetings in town.
So far, nothing bad had happened, but they never knew what was going on around town until after it happened.
As long as she was safe and away from the house, he figured she was fine. If anything happened, he could rush right over there and get her out of harm’s way. At least that was the hope. But the fact remained, their lives were in danger. And he couldn’t stop thinking about it because if he did, he feared something terrible would happen.
Mary came out of the bedroom carrying their lunch pails. “I’m ready,” she announced, then went to the sink and washed the dishes.
“You should put those in the dishwasher,” Thomas pointed out. “We’ll need to take care of your things tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mary said. “I’ll wash them when we’re done eating.”
“They’ll dry overnight anyway,” he reminded her. “I just don’t like seeing all those empty bowls and cups sitting there. We’ve only been here for three days and already it looks messy.”
“Well, don’t look now, but you’re married to a lady who likes everything tidy,” she retorted, coming back into the kitchen.
He raised an eyebrow but kept quiet. She’d always loved cleaning; maybe that was part of her upbringing, he supposed, but she’d also learned to appreciate order and cleanliness while working as a chambermaid.
After they met and started dating, she used to surprise him by doing odd jobs for him—fixing doors or windows that weren’t quite closed properly, and washing his clothes instead of sending them out for cleaning. Now, she even helped him mow the lawn.
If it meant keeping his home neat and orderly, then why not? That’s what marriage was all about, he thought with amusement. He liked being married to Mary; he felt comfortable with her and he liked the way she made him feel about himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her before they got married; he just never expected to fall in love again.
And now he had a beautiful wife whom he cared deeply about. She was funny and kindhearted and he liked watching her laugh and play with their son. They seemed to grow closer every day. He wondered what it would be like to have a daughter-in-law someday.
Their relationship grew more intimate with each passing month, and he often found himself wondering what life would be like with the two of them growing old together. He had no idea whether such a thing would ever happen; he certainly never pictured getting married to anyone except Mary.
He couldn’t help hoping that someday their family would expand so they could give their children siblings. His own father died too young, leaving his mother all alone and he remembered well how sad that was.
The End