Trip and Stumble

Part One1

-1-

Trip Higgins drank up the milk in the bottom of his cereal bowl even though he didn't want to. The flaky remnants of Captain Crunch swished like soggy, little, lifeless tadpoles down the back of his throat. Life was a similar torture, summertime on a farm for a friendless thirteen year old boy. Time was his enemy and the sun its arch-sentinel. Trip needed a lift but he would rest convinced that only the impossible could save him now.2

Trip was happiest during the school year. Things he knew had a solution never scared him. Teachers and books were friends to him. The other kids didn’t hate Trip though. They very much enjoyed having a target other than themselves for the cruelness of teenage society. Trip was a wall of absorption when he wanted to be one. His progression of names went from things like “Pig-nut” and “The Yak” to more sophisticatedly designed insults like “Grandma’s Boy”, “Fatty McSqueeze” and (his personal least favorite) the very classic “Dickface”. The being friendless technicality wasn’t as disheveling to Trip in that kind of environment as it might have been for other kids his age. He had his escapes: places in the library nobody thought to check, the bathroom stall with the broken door latch, and the bench outside of the principal’s office. Yes, Trip liked being at school. The craziness may have been more concentrated but it was still guarded by the walls of a protected establishment. Too bad for Trip, lifelines like rules and punishment enforcement didn’t exist out in the real world.3

Trip’s grandmother was a pinch-faced, bitter, old lady. She had her moments of sincerity and warmth but, ever since her husband died, Eugenia had grown more and more stern. Visitors and farmhands would call her “Gina”. Trip would call her “Grams”. His real parents died in a plane crash when he was still a baby and Eugenia and Byron had raised him since. Trip missed his grandfather, Byron, whom he called “Pops”. Smiling in every memory Trip had of him (Grams too), Pops would make a joke to fill each and every moment of silence he was a party to. Trip missed Pops very much (Grams did too).4

Between the constant cackle-coo of the chicken coop and the deadening moo from the cows in the pasture behind the house Trip spent most of his hours balancing his sanity. He would lay in the shade of his favorite bush near the stream where the moss gathered stray violets and the steady trickle of the water became the music of a melody-less existence. But July had hit an increasingly slow spell and sounds were too flimsy of a savior to keep him smiling on the inside. Time was winning the war and Trip slowly swayed away from maintaining his keep. He wondered about the concept of being grateful for the things you have and wished he could do it too. But then he would remember his invisible collection of broken wishes that piled up in the back of his mind. “Oh yeah,” he sighed aloud.5

Sunday mornings were different. Grams stopped getting up for church soon after losing Pops. In fact, it was rare for Grams to wake herself on Sunday mornings at all. Trip would use Grams recipes and Pops old flipping techniques for making blueberry-chocolate chip pancakes, sometimes with scrambled eggs, sometimes with bacon. Grams cooked the rest of the week so Trip always believed it was the least he could do for her. He would serve her in bed and sit beside her until they were both finished. It was usually a silent meal but this Sunday was different.6


-2-7

Grams wiped her mouth with the napkin from her lap extra carefully. Her voice was unsure of itself, “I wanted to tell you something about my Byron, Trip.” Her eyes melted a little as her lips began to quiver. She leaned over her pillow and reached a wrinkled hand under the next pillow down. She lifted out a small-sized, tan leather notebook bound by tattered bailing twine. “This was your grandfather’s.” She pressed her fingers along the curves by the spine. “Did you know he loved to write? He spent most of his later nights glued to the pages of this book.”8

“What did he write in it?” Trip interjected.9

“I don’t know. I never opened it.”10

“Why not? Give it here, I’ll do it.”11

“Trip! Listen to me. My Byron asked me never to read it. It’s the only secret he’s ever kept from me and I promised him I’d never,” Grams held a hand to her heart, “That I’d never break that promise.”12

“Should I…”13

“Not now.” Grams smeared a tear away from the corner of her eye with her shoulder. “Here, I can’t sleep next to it another night.” She set the notebook next to Trip and turned to look out the window. “I want you to take care of that notebook, Trip. Keep it and learn from it and remember him as I never will be able to. I’ll clean the dishes today. Please go now,”14

Trip didn’t say anything else. He just scooped up the notebook with two hands and walked to the door. Grams said one last thing, “Whatever you find in that notebook, child, it’s not for me to see.” Trip glanced back at the Grams, sitting perfectly still, breathing short breaths. He pursed his lips a little and headed down the hallway then across the living room to the front door. Grams turned her head to the empty doorway and whispered aloud to nobody in particular, “…not for me to see.”15


-3-16

Trip pushed his way out of the antique screen door and stomped down the porch steps onto the dirt sidewalk. He rubbed an end of the twine between his thumb and index finger, held it taut and threatened to pull the knot apart. The sound of approaching tractors puttered in the distance and Trip shot down the driveway to investigate. Yes, two of them headed to the farm, probably one of the hands coming to pick up a late pay. Trip wedged the notebook between his belt and his jeans and un-tucked his shirt to conceal it from whoever the visitors turned out to be.17

It was Mr. Nether with his four sons: Jack, Jimmy, Jake and Justin. He and the elder three came four days of the week to milk the cows, bail the hay and do other reparations around the farm that neither Grams nor Trip could do by themselves. Justin was Trip’s age. They knew each other at school. Well… their paths had crossed more than once at school. Justin wasn’t as similarly geared towards books and staying out of trouble as Trip was. To put it simply, they did not get along.18

“Howdy there,” Mr. Nether tipped his hat as he strode past Trip, “The usual spot?”19

“Yep, the roll-top by the furnace” Trip directed Mr. Nether to his weekly payment. The older boys stayed with the tractors but Justin hopped off and strutted up to Trip with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.20

“Havin’ a good summer Yakkity?” Justin was a very animated talker with busy eyebrows that made Trip want to take a lawnmower over Justin’s face. “Been keepin’ the old hag company in her final days?” Justin wrapped his arm around Trip’s neck and hugged Trip into an uncomfortable pose. “You know, I just love this whole flat and empty thing you got goin’ on in this dump you peons call a farm.” He flicked Trip on the forehead hard.21

“Ow! Let go!” Trip wriggled for freedom.22

“Don’t whine ya’ baby. There’ll be time for that later when I invite some more of your friends over for a little football. You don’t mind do you, Yakkity? It’s not like there’s any other use in hoarding this dried up wasteland to you and your old hag. And you can play too. Even a Fatty McSqueeze like you can still hike a football.”23

Trip ripped out of Justin’s hold at the loss of a small handful of hair. “I don’t play football,” he stammered.24

“Yeah that’s nice Yak,” Justin stopped paying attention to Trip. Mr. Nether was striding back down the sidewalk and Justin smirked again. “Later Dickface, be back in about an hour with the fun.” The tractors banged alive and slowly drove back up the road in the direction they arrived in.25

Trip muttered a few incomprehensible cuss words he didn’t have the guts to raise his voice for. Football with the friends he’d never known to be friendly was not Trip’s idea of a worthwhile afternoon but like most of his other disappointments there was nothing he could do to avoid it. He kicked a line of pebbles out of the driveway and wandered down to the side of the silo where he flopped to the ground and hid his face in his hands.26


-4-27

The way Trip was sitting made the notebook start digging into his stomach. “Oooh! Oh yeah! Almost forgot.” He yanked the notebook free and fixed his shirt until it looked neat again. He picked his knees up to create a surface for the back of the notebook to rest onto. The twine had come loose some time between it going in and coming out of his pants. Trip peeled the cover open. Trip guessed the writing was done by quill. The first set of dates spanned from the late 1920’s and onward through time, slowly rearranging themselves with handwriting maturity as the notebook advanced. Somewhere close to the middle Trip stopped flipping and let his eyes finally intrude into the mystery within.28

April, 192829


More than butterflies, that’s for sure. I swear I caught wind of a giggle yesterday. Butterflies don’t giggle. But I do. Whatever it turns out to be, I want to be a part of it. One day people will invite me to fancy carnivals and be in dazzling parades and wave out to all the other people in the world who still haven’t been as lucky as I am. To see what I’ve seen in my own back yard.
30

April, 194131


They appeared over the new horse barn again today. Will and the other guys think I’m trying to fool them into a practical joke like always but I guess it is too crazy a thing to explain in words. But I have to try. I saw them! At least two, clear as the day! Mom and Pop aren’t on my side anymore either and I feel more and more alone at every silence the dinner table lures us into. Someone’s got to believe me. They’ve got to! 32

“What could Pops be talking about?” Trip searched his mind for an answer. He inspected the covers of the notebook again but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. One more time Trip flipped through the pages hoping to find more clues to what Pops could possibly be talking about.33

September, 194134


I still can’t get that music out of my head. The sound’s so crisp inside my mind. I find myself dancing foolishly at the most inappropriate times. I can’t help it if I’m lifted by heavenly voices that smile in my ears and twist around until they reach my heart where they kiss my soul, and let me dream like I did when I was younger. I love this gift they’ve given me. I’m whole again. 35

August, 195536


I dare not wait by the horse barn any longer. If they’ve moved on it’s for the better. I can’t waste another day without a whisper of their grace. The old crew have houses and families of their own now and I’m the only one still here where there’s only me. I’ll marry too. A child will rescue me. I can live on as long as a part of me still believes in the magic I once found here. The magic I once delighted in with such ecstasy. Such hope. 37

It was too much. Trip shut the notebook and rubbed his head a little where it had begun to throb. Trip decided a walk over to the horse barn (which was now old and run-down) was his best bet to answering the questions that his grandfather’s diary had instilled into him. “Why hadn’t I ever gone over that way before?” Trip thought to himself. “Because it’s a pile of scraps of what used to be a building and I don’t particularly enjoy swimming in a pool of splinters if I don’t absolutely have to, do I?” Trip wasn’t sure whether he was more angry at himself for being a bit of a wimp in the face of danger, or at his grandfather for so secretively hiding this strange but alluring part of his life where… where something had definitely happened to him. Something Trip was definitely going to find out, one way or another.38


-5-39

Trip was heading over the front lawn towards the side of the house where the old horse barn lay defeated by time. Another five minutes earlier and he’d have gotten there too. Instead, a calling of five boys of varying shapes and sizes emerged into his path and took liberties with Trip’s agenda for the time being. Justin was among them, “Hey Dickface. Did ja’ miss me? Ready to play some ball? Ready to feel the grind of dirt in that precious fatty face of yours?”40

The other boys laughed and jeered along. Justin grabbed the notebook from Trip’s hand and declared, “What a lovely idea, Yakkity. This can be today’s football.” Justin threw Trip’s grandfather’s notebook over Trip’s head and another boy caught it. Trip jumped at it but missed. That boy tossed it right back over to Justin and they played monkey in the middle over a frustrated-looking Trip who played right into the lap of their game; struggling to follow where they tossed it, never quite getting within a hands grasp.41

“Give it back!” Trip howled.42

“Make me.” Justin suggested, smiling just as evil as ever. Trip started a run in Justin’s direction; his fingers curled together into what he hoped would work the same as fists. But one of the smaller boys launched a foot into Trip’s path and Trip splattered to the ground very uncoordinatedly. The other boys broke out into harshly unrelenting laughter and Justin open the notebook to read a little of what couldn’t possibly be any interesting to any of them anyway.43

Justin got through about five pages, flipped quickly. He snickered and held up a hand to his mouth to shush the others. Justin cleared his throat hyperbolically and pretended to read, “Dear Diary, I’m so pathetic. Why can’t I just be less of an annoying blob of a grandma’s boy? Nobody likes me. Boo fricken hoo hoo.”44

“Shut it! It doesn’t say that Justin! Give it back you ass!” Trip was very upset.45

“You want it?” Justin offered it forward with his largest smile yet. Trip slowly pushed his hand towards it, and just as he was about to grab on Justin heaved it over his shoulder. “Go fetch, Dickface.” It landed in a brown circle of moisture on the edge of the driveway that Trip desperately hoped was mostly mud. He knelt beside and picked it up with the tips of his fingers trying not to get his clothes any dirtier than they already were.46

“That’s enough football for one afternoon don’t you fella’s agree?” Justin and the others picked up their matching evil smiles and trotted off together towards the street. Trip didn’t watch them go. He just crawled to a patch of dry grass to use to try to clean the notebook. It was stained, that was a given… but he didn’t want the damage to be noticeable if Grams ever nosed around in his room for whatever old people reason she’d invent for snooping where she didn’t belong.47


-6-48

Trip did the best he could. The notebook didn’t look half bad considering the short little adventure it had just been on. And like a cook tempting himself with his own creation, Trip dove back into the notebook, hungry for another taste of the delicacies inside. 49

November, 197250


My beautiful whisper in the wind held my hand all the way from the city back to the old farm. My folks bought an RV and need me to stay with the old place, keep her ship shape for them while they see the world together. I know it’s more of a last stand in their waning lives… but I refuse to see anything but beauty in these wonderful people who’ve given me so much. 51

April, 197452


Never a more joyous funeral held in a couple’s honor. My beautiful Gina and I shared our news of new life in the midst of the tears and sadness and the mourning turned to laughter and the quiet became a party. I don’t mind a bit the angry director lecturing about the respect of the deceased. My parents are proud of me and wherever they are, they’re dancing too. They always danced for me.
53

Trip thought a moment, “That’s right, Grams told me the story about the car accident that killed my great grandparents within a week of her becoming pregnant with my father. I completely forgot all of the things Pops had been through in his long life.” Trip missed his grandfather more than ever. He fought the appearance of a tear and turned some more pages in the tiny window to the past.54

January, 197855


Will brought his son Freddy over to play with our little George today. Freddy’s only a year older and has a gentle air about him. I think they’ll make a nice pair of buds. Will came in the house and asked me if I was still haunted by my daydreams by the horse barn. I tried one last time to convince him that I wasn’t making it up but Will threatened me to leave his son out of my savage mind games or there’d be hell to pay. I lost a friend that day, but my George had gained one and I wouldn’t risk that for the world.
56

June, 198057


George and Freddy were running about the front yard playing a game without reason or rules that I almost recognized as something I used to do too half a lifetime ago. The boys were really excited that I came to join them. I decided against my better judgment and asked the boys if they wanted to know a secret. I told them I had found a secret hang out where fairies come to play. George said I was silly, but Freddy went along with it. Freddy, Freddy believed me!
58

“Fairies?” Trip blinked in disbelief. “Maybe Pops did fall off the wrong side of the chicken coop. What other explanation is there?” Trip decided to get over to the old horse barn once and for all to put an end to the silliness of the notebook. It was silliness after all… wasn’t it?59


-7-60

The late afternoon spilled out golden rays of sunlight that soaked everything in a rare golden glow. Trip crept mouse-like to the wreckage of the old barn. The jagged line of the western wall cast its shadow onto the eastern which stood a fraction higher and a bit less worn-down. There was no roof, no door and the windows had all shattered down to petty end trails, but if Trip squinted his eyes hard enough he could just scarcely make believe the ancient shade of red that had once shone bright as a fire truck.61

The back side of the old horse barn was even less impressive. Half-buried pieces of rusty metal sprouted from the un-mown yellow grass. Trip knocked his knuckles on the outer wall. Dust puffed off and cleared sideways revealing a carving of initials: B. H. “Byron Higgins”. Trip blew into the letters and rubbed away the remaining particles of dust. “So this is your big discovery old man?” Trip tilted his head to one side and let his hands slide into his pockets, “This is what was too important to you to share with your family?” Trip was tired. The quiet in the air around him was too unsettling to his stomach considering the day he’d had. “I don’t have time for any more craziness today.”62

Trip lunged into the safer grass, away from the rusty metal circus around the old barn. He was ready to clean up and go see if Grams had started on any dinner for them. The setting sun dripped like scarlet molasses over the distant mountaintops. Trip blinked into the remaining circle of sun and let the light sink in through his eyelids and warm him up to a closer version of calm.63

And just then, from somewhere far above the old excuse for a horse barn, a bright object flung straight down and crashed into one of the larger clumps of grass by the side of the barn. “What… was that?” Trip was stunned. He was almost too anxious to find out. But only almost. He looked up into the sky with a hand blocking the light from the sun. Nothing up there. “Maybe it was a small bird,” Trip suggested to himself, “Yeah… just an unfortunate little bird.” Trip shuffled closer but still couldn’t see what it was. He shuffled a little closer again, and again. He leaned his head over the spot one final time… and there was a leg! Trip cowered away; breathing heavily, shaking his hands, eyes wide with craze. He was pacing around the scene without logical thought. He bent in to take another look just to make sure he’d really seen what he had seen. Yes! But there were two legs, and not just that. They were itty bitty legs that were attached to an itty bitty body that matched! It was dressed in small garments that were different shades of florescent pink. It had long hair that lay frayed beneath the outline of her body. It was female. It was crushing two very thin wing-like features under its weight. The only word left to concentrate on in Trip’s mind was the very same thing he’d wholeheartedly believed impossible just a few short moments ago. Fairy.64

Trip began backing away but stopped in his tracks. He stared upwards and let his arms dangle in whatever ways they would. The wind fluttered like an out of control fan blowing up from behind him. Trip's clothes flapped wildly, trying to run off with the remarkable rush of nature. A few imaginary pounds lighter and he'd surely have gone too. But the sky suddenly seemed to speak to him; the way the clouds mingled, the subtle, ebbing trace of jets and the distant news of dying worlds. Trip bent over and cradled this little pink ember. He prayed his pocket would be the walls it called for. Without it finding peace in him, the failing sun was all he'd have to hopefully find favor in. Trip hurried up to the house. As the screen shut behind him the sun had finally decided it was time to nestle itself behind the mountain and go ever so sweetly to sleep.65


-8-66

Grams was reading silently as she slowly rocked her mahogany rocking chair to sleep. Trip tip-toed to the staircase and then darted up the steps, he knew they’d creak whether he went slowly or not. He pressed his bedroom door to a snap behind him and gently unbuttoned his shirt, slipped his arms out of the sleeves and spread it out over the foot of his neatly made bed. He stepped clear of the bed and backed flat up against the wall, “What am I doing? What am I doing?” Trip was lost amidst the nervous excitement that was brewing lopsidedly in favor of the excitement in his mind. “Deep breaths, deep breaths…” he repeated, trying to sound convincingly self-assured.67

Trip went for the top left drawer of his dresser. He dumped the rolls of socks onto the floor over his shoulder and unfolded a few shirts from another drawer to use as a cushioning inside the first drawer. He pulled his blinds up enough for the height of the drawer to fit nicely beneath them upon the sill of the window. Trip wondered with a finger tapping his bottom lip, and quickly found the idea he was hoping for. He climbed atop his little end table and leaned so that he could reach the top shelf in the closet nearby. He fished around with his tongue sticking out a few moments until retrieving a nice and fluffy winter beanie. He stretched it out a few times then returned to the window sill and lay it in the corner to serve as a makeshift pillow. Trip hovered over his creation for a moment with his arms akimbo and sighed with pride.68

Trip returned to the closet. This time he searched through the bottom. He shoved the shirts and jackets out of his way and moved a few loose things back to the wall so he could slide a nice sized box out for him to open up and pick through. A few old toys: a paddle ball set, some unused crossword puzzle books, and a pair of spring-loaded, crazy-eyed glasses came out of the box first and tumbled to the ground. “Aha!” Trip announced with victory. He kicked the box half-hazardly back into the closet and arose with a black-handled, rectangular magnifying glass.69

Trip’s shirt still lay on the end of the bed where he had set it. A cold shiver ran up through Trip’s legs and out through his fingers and ears. “Here goes…” Trip lifted the shirt very carefully and held it over the drawer on the window sill then he let the pocket opening dangle over the comfiest-looking section and tilted until the little fairy slipped out like the un-gloving of a perfectly beautiful hand. “Wow.” Trip was just as shocked this time as he was with the first glance he had stolen. The fairy’s skin was a subtle version of eggshell. Her little eyes, big for the size of her face, were perfect reflections of themselves, distant but mysteriously connected. There was a glorious trinity of freckles that bobbled about on her upper left cheek. Trip held the magnifying glass up to the fairy to better study the peculiar combination of the features on her face. Her lips rested in a kissing stance. They pointed sharply upwards in two sensuous points that even the world’s best artist could not have recreated as mystifyingly wondrous. Her eyelashes matched the color of her faintly glimmering pink hair. Trip thought she was beautiful. From the slender line of her neck to the ten little button-toes on the ends of her shoe-less feet… Trip thought she was the most beautiful fairy he had ever seen.70

Trip set down the magnifying glass and bounced over his bed to the end table where he smiled at his distorted reflection in the bottom of the brass lamp. “Impossible,” he said, and smiled even bigger. He set the alarm on his clock-radio and reached up to turn off the lamp for the night. A third time his smile grew, and this time he giggled then finally shut off the light.71

Part Two72

--9--73

The fairy stirred in her sleep. Before opening her eyes she pulled herself tightly into a navy blue handkerchief with the initials “T. H.” embroidered into the corner that she was using as a blanket. She stretched her legs and let out a miniature yawn as she rubbed at her morning dewdrop eyes. She noticed first the four wooden walls that enclosed her into a large pen of some sort. She stood and peered over the ledge and next noticed the room she was in. A child’s bed was made to her left, a few toys lay on the floor on the opposite wall and then the closed door to her right. “Oh shoot.” She exasperated monotonously.74

Just then, the sound of creaking footsteps pattered outside the door. They grew louder. Whatever was making them was headed in. The footsteps stopped. The doorknob twisted a little, and around a little more… then snap! The fairy ducked beneath the blanket and pretended to still be asleep. Trip let himself in and lay the tray of breakfast he was carrying down on the corner of his bed. He had already showered and dressed and been awake for some time. While downstairs he had taken one of Grams’ ceramic tea set coasters to use for serving a small portion of pancakes and bacon to the fairy he had hoped might not have fallen to her death last night.75

For a cup Trip had filled a thimble to the brim with some freshly squeezed, Grams’ specialty, de-pulped orange juice. He got the portions of food ready and set it all up on the edge of the tray. He then stepped over to the drawer to see if he could detect any signs of breathing. He leaned in very close and focused on the shape her torso made beneath the handkerchief he decided would make for an excellent little sheet earlier that morning. And surely enough, the fairy was laying quite still but would shift ever so slightly in validation of Trip’s hopes that she was, in fact, still alive. He smiled and looked again up to her face. He was trying not to admit how fascinated in her triple-freckle constellation that sparkled on her cheek he was. The fairy shifted a small distance and Trip looked closer still.76

The fairy’s eyes suddenly flew awake and scared them both into a temporary hysteria. “Ahhhhh!” they each echoed in unison. Trip stepped away from the drawer and tripped backwards onto his back. The fairy scratched at the side of the drawer and uncoordinatedly climbed over the ledge closest to the window. “Ahhhhh!” they each continued screaming with a second breath. Trip was frozen in the spot he landed and couldn’t bring himself to move. The fairy slipped out of the drawer and sunk tightly between the tiny area between the drawer and the window. Her body was stuck. Her face was pressed up into the glass in a way that made her voice sound quite ridiculous, even for a fairy. She stopped yelling and realized that she was, quite unfortunately, stuck.77

Trip quieted himself as soon as he found that he was the only one left screaming. He heard Grams’ voice calling from the bottom of the steps, “What’s going on up there, you all right child?”78

Trip opened the door and yelled down to her, “Fine Grams, fell out of bed. Everything’s ok!” and he quickly shut the door without waiting for her to reply. Trip picked himself up off the floor and walked over to go see about the fairy. He sat on the bed and peeked behind the drawer and saw how she had inadvertently trapped herself. His eyes just widened at the comedy of the situation.79

“Hi up there,” the fairy decided to break the ice, her voice still obscured by her body being pressed into the window.80

Trip leaned in and let his mind respond with the only word it had prepared for such a moment, “Wow.” And he smiled a small smile that slowly transformed into a light, childish chuckle.81


--10--82

“A lil’ help pleathe?” The fairy looked quite helpless. Trip pulled the drawer away from the window and she slid to the sill. “Ah, that’s much better.” She scooted her body to the ledge of the sill and crossed one leg over the other as she rubbed her hands over her cheeks and neck to sooth the places where she was wedged most uncomfortably.83

“Are you really…” Trip had to ask, “…a fairy?”84

“On my better days, yes. They call me Stumble, flower-fair extraordinaire. Actually that last bit I just made up but you have to admit it adds just the perfect touch to an otherwise bland introduction. I should so get business cards or something.”85

“Are there other fairies like you out there?”86

“They wish.” Stumble snorted, “But yeah, there’re lots of us. More than enough actually. I can name a bright handful or two the world could do without. I’m sure you know the type, talk too much-matter too little. You know, real dumb-de-dumbs.”87

“Oh, I hate those kinds.”88

“Darn straight, and to whom do I owe the pleasure of acquaintance kind sir?”89

“Oh me! Um, they call me, um… well my name is Trip. But only my Grams calls me by my name.”90

“Do I smell a hint of bullied undertones in the corners of your voice? You seem like a nice kid, Trip. But isn’t that just the essence of what always seems to invite the brutes to come and mess with ya’?”91

“Well…”92

“Don’t worry none. Not now anyway, I smell a magical scent that must be attended to immediately or I might just die… again.” She snickered, “Mmm! What is that luscious sin of a smell?”93

“Oh right, breakfast!” Trip swiveled around and grabbed Stumble’s coaster and thimble and set it beside her on the sill. He laid on his stomach, flipping his feet up and down as he watched her gobble up the food he made as if it was her first meal in years. “A fairy named Stumble” Trip thought to himself, “I love her already!”94


--11--95

After breakfast Stumble crawled up to Trip’s shoulder and made herself at home. “What next, Captain?” she curled her bottom lip to the side and held her index finger up in the shape of a small hook.96

“To the kitchen, mate-y.” Trip held one eye shut as he spoke. “These dishes won’t do themselves.” Trip borrowed the phrase from Grams.97

“Oh really? We’ll have to just see about that.” Stumble rubbed her hands together as Trip bounced down the stairs and rounded the corner to the living room and through to the kitchen.98

“Grams is out feeding the chickens so I guess it’s safe for you up here for now.” Trip was staring cautiously out of the window for signs of Grams coming back inside for whatever unforeseen reason might have arisen. When he finally averted his attention back to the tray in his hands he noticed the floating line of plates and silverware forming above the sink, which had turned itself on and begun bubbling up with suds.99

“That takes care of that.” Stumble brushed the invisible traces of how great she was off of her shoulder and smiled even though she was trying her best not to appear too pleased.100

“What if Grams comes back and finds...” Trip began.101

“Oh shush,” Stumble interrupted. “They’ll be cleaned and put away in a jiffy. Let’s seize the day already. I can’t wait to spice up your life, meet your friends, tip some cows; you know… typical best-buds stuff.”102

“I’m not sure whose life you think I’ve been living on this desolate excuse for a place to raise an only child Miss. Stumble,” Trip felt his pulse quicken, “but I think I’m just about ready to find out! Onwards!”103

“Onwards!” Stumble joined in. And Trip skipped out the side door with Stumble still straddling his shoulder as the Monday sun soared happily towards its summit in the sky.104


--12--105

Trip hopped over a low section of the black, rusted barbed-wire fence that somehow actually threatened the cows to stay always on the other side. He held his arms out and ran up the hill that veered away from the front of the house. The yellow dandelion heads swayed in the light breeze around him. Stumble clenched her tiny fists onto Trip’s shirt and let her wings and feet flap like a cape behind them as Trip sped faster and faster. “Wooooo-ie!!!” Stumble liked this ride. She hadn’t adventured just for fun in a long, long time. And neither had Trip. They were both “just what doctor ordered” for each other.106

Trip stopped at the top of the hill and raised his arms above his head. He closed his eyes and spun slowly in a circular motion. He lowered one arm and left the other pointing straight out in front of him. He gave himself three last spins and stopped. His hand was aimed in the direction of the stream by the woods. “The finger has spoken” he laughed. “Hold on Stumble!” And down they flew; two delirious roadrunners on a mission to break the land speed record or bust.107

They neared the bottom of the hill and entered the cozy cool beneath the shady, dark green canopy of leaves. The noise from the stream jingled below and the ground grew softer with every step they took closer to the bank. Stumble jumped off of Trip’s shoulder the way a diver would jump from a diving board, “Bombs away!” She spread her wings just a matter of inches away from the ground and picked up some speed to carry her over the surface of the water. She grinned a mischievous grin and swooped up a splash of water that she flung with all of her might in Trip’s general direction.108

“Hey!” Trip exclaimed as his face and the front of his shirt were splattered with wetness.109

“Direct hit!” Stumble landed on the bank and walked beside Trip as he slowed down to concentrate on wiping his forehead dry with the bottom of his shirt. They continued down the stream until Trip recognized the way he used to getting up to his secret spot by his favorite bush.110

“Here we are” Trip looked excited, “I’ve never brought anyone here before. It’s my favorite spot on the whole farm.”111

“Tell me what makes it so special.” Stumble chimed in.112

“Well…” Trip picked Stumble up with one hand and used the other to pull himself up the bank to the area beneath the bush. He sat overlooking the stream with his legs dangling off the ledge he’d just climbed up. “Well it’s plain to see” he said, “The colors settle just right from this angle up here. See how the tiny holes in the leaves let just enough sun in to liven up sections of the woods that are otherwise just dark and lonesome and dull? And this bush we’re sitting under… it’s not like other bushes. It has a soul, and that soul has an inkling toward seeking out the friendship in things. This cradled section up here is the heart of the woods and today, we’re the beats that give it life.”113

“Well I’ll be darned” Stumble announced, “That makes you the Keeper of the Spirit of Life then, doesn’t it?”114

Trip smiled, “And you, my guest of honor.” Trip set Stumble beside him and she let herself fall back so that she lay looking straight up through the thin lines of beautiful bramble bush. Trip did the same. They tasted their breaths together, the most delicious flavor ever.115

Stumble waved her hands quickly in front of her face then slowly let them rise with her palms facing up. Trip saw the violets around them begin to rise in obedience with Stumble’s spell. The stems lengthened and curled into intricately weaved patterns. Violet blossoms pressed into Trip’s cheeks and neck and all around Stumble and everywhere else.116

The day twisted on like a kaleidoscope roller-coaster ride. Trip and Stumble fled further and further away from the worries of their pasts and spun themselves a new web of priorities worth calling insurmountable happiness. They had been blinded by the strain of everyday routine, but had freed each other to live uninhibited by prior shackles of conformity. Finally, free to live.117


--13--118

The next morning Stumble was the first to wake. She flew out of her drawer over to Trip’s pillow and laid down beside his face. Her hair danced every time Trip breathed out. She put a hand on the tip of Trip’s nose and he twitched a little but didn’t wake up. She stepped up onto the side of his nose, and still no dice. She crawled over to his ear and grabbed the sides with her hands and brought a giant breath of air into her little fairy lungs… and screamed, “TRIP, WAKE UP!”119

That did the trick. Trip burst alert, perhaps a bit dizzy from the rude awakening, but awake nonetheless. “I’m up. I’m up” Trip nodded in and out of steady consciousness as he rolled himself out of bed. “Just gotta make,” his head nodded again, “my bed.” Trip rubbed at his eyes and slapped at his cheeks to help shake him to a fuller state of awake.120

“Bed-schmed” said Stumble. “It’s a big world out there and the sun’s already begun counting down the time we have to explore in it. Just slip some pants and a shirt on and we’re bustin’ outta here.”121

Trip obeyed the suddenly bossy Stumble by hopping into some pants and pulling on a T-shirt but he also grabbed a fresh pair of socks and his shoes to slip into on his way down the stairs. Stumble sat on Trip’s shoulder and pretended to buckle herself in. Four steps from the bottom Trip sat down to finish dressing his feet. He unrolled the bundle of socks and eaves dropped on a faint section of conversation coming from the other end of the living room.122

The first voice sounded like Grams, “We use the roll-top desk for pick-ups. Right beside the furnace, you can’t miss it. You just stop in and collect the envelope with your name on it.”123

The second voice could only have belonged to the infamously deep-voiced Mr. Nether, “I appreciate the switch you’re letting my cousin make with my oldest son, Gina. He’s just been accepted to college and seems real determined to get through the best he can manage and I couldn’t ask him to give all that up just to stay to help me here.”124

Grams again, “Oh, I understand Mr. Nether. I will miss the lad though; he had a good head on his shoulders.” Trip and Stumble exchanged two similarly silly glances. “But seeing as Mr. Williams here knows his way around a farm as good as any’a your boys there isn’t much to go against lettin’ ‘im fill right in for Jack.”125

The third voice, that Trip assumed belonged to Mr. Nether’s cousin, Mr. Williams, spoke next, “I thank you as well Mrs. Higgins”.126

“Please, everybody ‘round here calls me Gina.”127

Mr. Williams again, “Gina, then. Thank you. This means the world to my daughter and me to have found a form of work so soon to my return to town. I’d forgotten how much I missed the way life works in the country. It really does wonders on the soul. And again, I honestly can’t thank you enough.”128

“You boys don’t work too hard today. And good luck to your settling in Mr. Williams. It’s good to see ya’ round these parts again.”129

Trip heard the door swing open and listened to the departing footsteps of the two visitors wane off into the yard. He resumed getting his feet ready for the world waiting outside. Once he was all tied up Trip swung around the doorway into the living room and watched as Stumble let herself outside. He was about to do the same when he saw Grams faltering around the kitchen table out of the corner of his eye. Trip ran back through the house and helped Grams to catch her weight and get to a chair so she could catch her composure.130

“Thank you child. Trip. You’re always right there when I’m stuck in a fluster.” Her voice seemed short-winded. “We’ve got a new hand. A nice fellow. I’m confident he’ll help keep us rollin’ along’in the right direction.”131

“Grams I think you ought to go lie down a bit, are you sure you’re feelin’ all right?” Trip forgot for a moment about Stumble. “Can I help you into bed, Grams?”132

“No, no. don’t be silly dear boy. I’ll just sip my tea and get to my rocking chair after I finish a little lunch for us. You go on and chase down that pretty little thing that flew outta’ here not a moment ago.”133

Trip’s eyes almost burst out of his head, “Who?”134

“Her name’s Charlotte, Mr. Williams daughter. She seems to be around your age. She may be a trifle shy but I know you’re not one to judge and she’s pretty as a pistol.”135

Trip moved to the window only to see a white Honda pull out of the driveway and head up the street. “Hmm, well as long as you’re feeling well enough to tease me about that sort of thing…” Trip went back to the kitchen and kissed his grandmother on the back of the head. “I guess I’ll head out. Save my lunch in a baggy on the second shelf in the fridge. Later Grams!” And Trip walked outside.136


--14--137

“Hey pokey! Get a move on or I’ll find something to whip you into shape.” Stumble was turning cart-wheels in the air beside Grams collection of wind-chimes.138

“Sorry, had to check up on Grams for a second.” Trip yawned as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the sun. “What do you think we ought to do today, Stumb?”139

“I thought you’d never ask.” Stumble gritted a smile that sent Trip a chill deep down in his bones. “Today… is payback day.” And she pointed over to the street at the brigade of boys that were strutting up the driveway. Justin was leading the others right for Trip. Trip felt a lump that bubbled and grew in the pit of his stomach but Stumble pressed up behind his neck and whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry. I’m your right hand, you’re your left.”140

“What?” Trip began to panic but the other kids swarmed around him before he had the chance for another thought about it.141

“Oh, Yak. Still pathetic I see.” Justin didn’t waste any time. “You really ought to hide that monstrosity on your neck in a paper bag or something.” Justin snatched Trip’s head in the usual headlock and started to tighten… but Trip felt something move the fingers on his right hand into a strange frenzy.142

“Where was Stumble?” Trip wondered, “Was she really controlling my right hand for me?” And with the next sensation Trip felt, he decided that yes… only Stumble could be responsible for such a tactic. Trip’s right hand grasped a handful of Justin’s underwear and yanked at them hard until the world’s biggest wedgie ensued. Justin yelped in pain and released Trip from his grip.143

“You little,” Justin’s eyes were watering as he fumbled to rearrange his “nethers”. He shot an angry glare at the other boys, “Well don’t just stand there!” And they attacked! Trip watched his right hand whip in a quick karate motion and mocked the way it moved with his left hand the best he could. The first boy tried kicking Trip but Trip’s right hand caught the foot and launched it into the air causing the boy that the foot belonged to, to fall back. The next boy grabbed Trip’s left hand but Trip was ready; he kicked this one in the stomach. The third assailant yelled out and came in with a stray branch he’d found in the yard but the right hand was too quick for him. Trip stole control of the branch and let his right hand spin it over his head like a kung-fu master in a Japanese action movie.144

“Who’s next?” Trip growled. The boys who had just attacked Trip backed away but Justin stood his ground.145

“I’m not afraid of stupid ole Fatty McSqueeze.”146

Trip narrowed his focus on Justin. He hated him so much. Beating Justin once and for all was going to feel so great. But just then Trip’s right hand tossed the branch up and over his head. Trip caught it in his left hand. “Uh oh,” Trip thought. “No, I can do this!” he decided. Justin ran at Trip but Trip swiped at Justin’s legs with the branch and connected. Justin toppled to the ground and Trip pinned him down with his knees over Justin’s elbows. Justin struggled to get free but Trip wasn’t letting up. “Ahhhhh!” Trip screamed angrily into the middle of Justin’s face. And he flicked Justin on the forehead hard… with his left hand.147

“Oh yeah,” Trip started as he finally moved off of Justin and watched him crawl away in defeat, “I’m not fat, asshole.”148

Justin limped to his feet and ran past the other boys without looking back. It took them a few seconds to swallow what they had just witnessed but the others turned and followed once the shock had left them. Trip turned and walked back to the porch, looking at his hands… and smiling.149


--15--150

Stumble reappeared atop Trip’s shoulder. “You were amazing!” Stumble exclaimed. “And I love that closing line you offered up, like you were some action hero in a really corny movie. Oh yeah… I’m not fat asshole.” she imitated. “You kicked some major bully butt today Trip.”151

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Stumb.” Trip was still absorbing the magnificence of what had just happened.152

“Na uh, you were really, really amazing. I helped a tiny fraction in the beginning, mostly for intimidation… but the rest was all you buddy.” Stumble leered across the front yard. “Hey, you have a tire swing! You so totally have to come push me or you’re not my friend anymore.”153

Trip nodded his head and laughed. “I haven’t used this since Pops was still alive.” Trip walked over to the tire swing as he talked. “I think he spent as much time swinging as he did pushing. Grams would lecture him every time he squeezed in, but sure enough, he’d keep doing it again and again.” Stumble got inside the tire and gave Trip a thumbs-up and he began to swing her, slowly at first, then higher and higher. “It’s because of him that I found you, you know. Grams gave me this old notebook that he used to write in and there were all these entries about the fairies he was so certain existed over by the horse barn. Isn’t that something?”154

Stumble thought a moment, “Did I tell you what I was doing when you found me that night?”155

“Umm, no. Come to think of it, I don’t know much of anything you’ve ever done before that day at all.”156

“Well come climb in here with me and I’ll cast a spell to keep us swinging.” Trip slid through the middle of the tire and clasped the rope with both hands and Stumble sat on the top of the tire as they slowly swung side-to-side and round-and-round. “I ran away from home.” Stumble talked slower than Trip had ever heard her talk before. “My friends and family had all expected me to accept my betrothal to this random guy as tradition of my 700th birthday.”157

“You’re 700 years old!?”158

“And I don’t look a day over 200, but numbers aren’t important, so shush.” Stumble stuck her tongue out at Trip and smiled. “Anyway, I wasn’t having any of that predestined marriage crap. I wasn’t happy there before that started either though. I found myself surrounded by people who treated themselves like my friends more than I treated them that way and it really put me off. It’s easy to shoo off explicitly rude people as unworthy of your company… but those people who aren’t technically “without manners” that just drill at your patience, like a person who clicks their mechanical pen open and shut a hundred times a minute, they’re really tough to get rid of. I just wasn’t happy with my life in the Kingdom of Fairies. I knew somebody would cast a sleeper on me the minute I got through to this world, but I was desperate. And lucky for me, you were there to rescue me before they sent a retrieval squad after me. Uck, that would have been just awful.”159

Trip rubbed a finger down the line of Stumble’s back. “Well you rescued me too, you know. I was the world’s biggest, friendless loser before you fell out of the sky.”160

Stumble laid down and cuddled her head into the back of Trip’s hand. “I wish I had met you sooner, I can’t bare the thought of you suffering all on your own. At least I had company in my misery.”161

“You make it all seem a blink, a small price to pay for the beauty of being with you now. Thank you so much for being exactly the way you are. You couldn’t have possibly arisen a more perfect twist of fate.”162

Stumble cuddled closer to Trip’s hand and an itty bitty teardrop escaped the corner of one of her eyes. They swung for hours in the comfort of knowing that they’d never have to be alone or unhappy ever again… well, thinking that they’d never have to be alone or unhappy ever again anyway.163


--16--164

Wednesday morning, it rained. Not just a little, it really, really rained. The sounds of different farmhands coming in the house woke Trip and Stumble simultaneously. The usual morning shuffle of readiness played out rather uneventfully. Stumble invited herself into the front pocket of Trip’s button shirt as he groggily teetered down the stairs to join the commotion.165

The whole crew, sitting in a band of rained-on faces around the living room, were chatting listlessly amongst themselves. Trip recognized Mr. Nether and his two sons, Jimmy and Jake. And off in the kitchen was Mr. Williams trying to dry out a white handkerchief over the armrest of one of the chairs. Stumble was being careful not to let her head peep out over the top of Trip’s pocket. Trip walked over to the kitchen.166

“Mornin’ Mister… Williams is it?” Trip leaned on the back of one of the chairs Mr. Williams wasn’t slapping a handkerchief over.167

“Oh, pardon me, I must be a mess. But yes, you are dead on. I am Frederick Williams. It’s a pleasure to meet you, you must be Trip. I’ve heard a lot about you.”168

“If it’s mostly good things you’re hearing about me, you should find yourself a new source.”169

“Modest and witty. But what about upstanding? If you’re not terribly impartial to the rain do you think you could do me the grandest of favors?”170

“Um, you want me to go outside?”171

“Yes, I left something in my car. It’s not parked far from the porch. Do you think you could go grab it for me quickly?”172

“Sure, that’s simple enough. What is it you left?”173

“My Charlotte. She stayed in the car to work on her water colors this morning because she doesn’t like to be home alone and isn’t outgoing enough to come inside here if I don’t promise that I’ll stay with her. I’m sure she’ll be fine now though because we won’t be getting any work done outside ‘til the rain lets up a bit.”174

“Uhhh…”175

“It’s the white Honda Civic, the doors will be unlocked. Her name is Charlotte.” Mr. Williams had a gentle curve around his face that Mr. Nether lacked. “She doesn’t bite,” Mr. Williams added, “or at least, she hasn’t started biting yet.” But tricking him into fetching his daughter for him made Trip decide to leave the jury in their deliberations of intent for the time being.176


--17--177

The rain was really coming down. Trip wasn’t surprised that the hands had all gone in. Stumble peeked out for a moment. “Holy rain!” she said quickly, and quickly returned to the confines of Trip’s shirt pocket. Trip recognized the Honda on the side of the driveway and readied himself for a sprint.178

He made it to the car and pulled open the driver’s side door then jumped inside and slammed the door behind him. A loud crash of lightening struck and echoed through the hills. Trip’s hair was soaked but only parts of his clothes were. He looked up into the rear view mirror and saw someone in it, doing the same. A dark-haired little girl stared into the reflection of Trip’s eyes in the rear view mirror. The same gentle curve of the face was present in Charlotte that Trip had seen in her father. Her eyes were calm, light shades of natural blue. Her cheekbones peaked like sturdy mountaintops; her chin swooped around like the bottom of a buttercup blossom. Trip was on the verge of smiling like a goofball but caught himself.179

“Hey.” She beeped, quiet but to the point.180

Trip turned in his seat and looked over at Charlotte, “Hey yourself. Your dad says I’m supposed to bring you inside.”181

“Umm, if he wants me inside I’ll go myself. I don’t need an escort, but I’m not going either way until the rain eases up a little.” Charlotte talked calmly. She didn’t move much minus the motions of her lips caressing the sounds she made as they cantered from her throat to the open space in the car.182

“Fair enough. I’m Trip by the way. I live here.”183

“Charlotte. I live in my paintings.”184

“Oh, your father mentioned something about that. Can I see what you’re working on?”185

“Why?”186

“’Cause I’m not going back to the house ‘til you’re ready to go too and I’m interested. I was warned that you’re shy though, so it’s ok if you don’t want to show me anything.”187

“I’m not shy. I’m just scared of old Gina. My cousins who live around here say she’s not the most pleasant of human beings.” Charlotte shifted in her seat so she met Trip’s questioning eyes at the same level with her own.188

“Grams? Well, she’s got her ups and downs same as anybody. But there’s nothing particularly scarier about her than there is about most other old people.” Trip gripped the back of the seat tighter.189

“Well that’s mainly what I was afraid of. I don’t think I ever could rightly contain the concept of treating the elderly with respect. I blame Billy Joel for that.”190

“Billy Joel?”191

“You know that song. Only the good,”192

“…die young?”193

“That’s the one.”194

“You’re kinda fun.”195

“You’re kinda wet.”196

Trip sat back in his seat and curled his lip under to conceal a smile. The backseat door opened and shut before Trip realized the rain had even stopped. “Huh!” he pouted.197

“Real smooth, lover-boy.” Stumble emerged from the pocket and sat up on her spot on Trip’s shoulder. “Now let’s go adventure!”198

Part Three199

---18---200

The rest of Wednesday passed like the rainstorm, quickly and hazily. Trip was a bit bitter about water-logging his sneakers in the hike that Stumble suggested they take to the pond down the street. Stumble didn’t really understand this and would say things like, “Shoes really are an impertinent inconvenience that you ‘types’ doom yourselves inside of each time you willfully strap yourselves in.” After hearing such a statement Trip couldn’t help but forget he was angry for a moment and just laugh at the sheer randomosity of the concept of strapping one’s self into “doom-shoes”.201

With Thursday, on the other hand, came a sunshine of a different color. The sunrise pierced the morning fog with a new kind of fervency that Trip had never noticed in the sun before. It wasn’t an unlikable change. But there was something innocent lost, and Trip knew that if it meant something… that it probably wasn’t good for him.202

“Can you feel that?” Trip asked Stumble on their walk out of the house after breakfast.203

“Feel what? What’s crackin’ kraken?” Stumble was lost in the luster, or lack thereof, in the color of her itty bitty fingernails.204

“I’m not sure. The sky feels very vocal this morning. You really don’t feel it?”205

“Nope. Not even a wisp.” Stumble seemed to be avoiding chances of making eye contact.206

Trip was not confident that his feeling meant nothing. He trudged toward the old horse barn leaving Stumble alone with her fingernails. The silence grew as Trip neared the back wall. He came to the corner and an itty bitty hand grabbed him on the shoulder.207

“Hey, what’s so fabulous over here?” demanded Stumble.208

“Shhh!” Trip warned. “I think there’s a fairy over there!”209

Stumble looked suddenly distraught, “Of course there is! There’re looking for me!”210


---19---211

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Trip asked half-interested in the answer, half-interested in peeping around the corner of the barn.212

“I’m trying my best here not to remember what awful things these fairy-folk are capable of.” Stumble’s eyes froze; her body too. Only her wings retained their still-flapping quality.213

“Stumble?” Trip grabbed Stumble out of the air in front of him and looked closer wondering what had caused her to go so inanimately inert.214

“Unhand the princess!” A deep woman’s voice barked from somewhere above the old horse barn. Trip was officially freaked out. Once more the voice echoed down like thunder, “Release the princess and calmly return to your regularly scheduled havoc-wreaking, mortal!”215

“Who?” Trip wore his fear like a goalie mask in hockey and sent his confusion upwards in as believable a fashion as his wits could muster.216

A whisper voice spoke next, “It’s not working Jainx. Try something else.”217

The booming voice from before spoke again, “Um, this is God! I’m very angry!”218

The whisper voice again, “And female!”219

“Oh shit that’s right. Now what, Yinda?”220

“Poke him with your fingernails.”221

“No way! YOU poke him with YOUR fingernails!”222

“Ok, ok shut up. We’ll think of something.”223

“Um, I can hear everything you’re whispering.” Trip interjected.224

“Hey, I thought you said mortals don’t have good hearing.”225

“I never said that! I said I’d hate to have a mortal’s ugly hear-thing.”226

“Oh my god, they’re still called ears you dumb-ass.”227

“I know that, I was just trying to cover up for saying that they don’t have good hearing.”228

“Oh my god, I’m so confused. What are we even doing here?”229

“Princess Stumbalina!”230

“Oh yeah.”231

“Duh!”232

“’Can still hear you.” Trip offered up. It was silent for a few moments.233

The second voice was raised to a shout, “Um, go away!” Her voice was much higher pitched.234

The deeper voiced one that yelled out first added, “But leave the princess!”235

The higher pitched one spoke once more, “Yeah, go away… but don’t take the princess!”236

The deeper voiced one, “Yeah!” A few more moments of silence passed.237

The higher pitched one relinquished, “Oh my god, we’re pathetic.”238

And the deeper voiced one, “I know.”239


---20---240

Stumble quivered in Trip’s fingers. Then again, slightly quicker. And then a third time; and she broke completely free of the hold the pesky fairies had cast on her. “Ok, not fun.” Stumble looked as though the word “forgiving” has just been permanently erased from her mental vocabulary bank. “JAINX!” Stumble screeched in the scariest voice Trip had heard come from her lips yet, “YINDA! FRONT AND CENTER!!!”241

The first fairy to appear from over the wall of the barn was dressed all in shades of blue: a cerulean gown with sparkly sequins laced along the hem, a matching hat that puffed upwards mocking the lines a tiara would make, and a sleek baby blue scarf that fluttered around the fairy’s arms and torso reminding Trip of the ripples in the stream behind his house that the rain would make. She was thicker around the waist and darker skinned than the fairy that come into view second. This one had a similar ensemble put together except hers was in shades of orange: a tangerine colored cocktail dress with black polka dots, a matching hat that fell over one side of her head and completely covered the ear on that side, and a fluffy florescent orange boa that shimmered valiantly in the light that the strange new sun had cast on it.242

Stumble still looked livid, “You guys… actually… cast a spell on me?”243

Jainx, the fairy in blue, the one with the deeper voice, defended herself, “It was Yinda’s idea.”244

Yinda, the higher pitched one, dressed in orange, defended herself, “But Jainx is the one who did the actual spell.”245

“First of all, NEVER call me Stumbalina! I hate that name. And secondly… what oh what am I ever going to do with you retarded excuses for court-class fairies?” Stumble softened around the edges just a touch. “Nothing. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do about me.”246

“You mean,” Yinda started, “you’re not mad at us?”247

“No,” explained Stumble, “I’m insanely furious and bursting with rage.”248

“But you’re letting us go back?” Jainx seemed confused.249

“I’m giving you a head start, girls.” Stumble sent out her evil grit of a grin. “And if you know what’s good for ya, you’ll start flyin’ bitches.” The two fairies looked back and forth from Stumble to each other and back again; and again… and Jainx finally wafted her arms up above her head and flew off towards the sky with a whimpering Yinda at her feet. Then Stumble turned to Trip gawking with a dropped jaw and smiled at her sly, sly powers of persuasion. “And that’s that.”250


---21---251

“And what, dare I ask, was that exactly?” Trip asked Stumble as soon as his wits returned to him completely.252

Stumble slowly started to fly back up toward the house. “Those were my best friends.”253

“Oh… oh... ouch.” Trip began to understand, “Oh, you poor, poor thing.”254

“It’s not that bad. There’s really not a single poor bone in this entire, itty bitty, fairy-girl bone structure. Never pity me. Pity the ones still stuck up there with the retard twins. Pity the ones down here who deal with mortals who can get just as bad as those two were today. Pity the old. Pity the young. Pity the ones who pretend louder than their grasp of reality can reach. Pity them or don’t pity at all. Some of us can take a lot of things. Take and take and take, take, take. Anything but pity. So no, don’t you pity me.”255

“I’m sorry Stumble, I didn’t mean to…”256

“I know, Trip. I’m just upset about things in general. It’s not you.” Stumble stared at the ground. “I need to rest. I’ll be in my drawer.” And Stumble darted up to the house and disappeared into the front door without even a glance over her shoulder to Trip.257

Trip jogged the rest of the way up to the house. He didn’t know if he ought to disturb Stumble now or wait a little while to give her some space. He decided to check in with Grams first. Her door was closed. Trip knocked quietly on her door. “Grams, are you asleep?” She didn’t answer. Trip reached for the doorknob and started turning it but an echoing knock shattered his train of thought. Again, there it was… it was coming from the front door.258


---22---259

Trip opened the door and stepped outside. There was a girl’s bicycle leaning up against the bottom porch steps. Trip looked over to the side of the porch and there stood Charlotte, pressing her hands and eyes to the frosted glass, trying to detect some motion to indicate somebody being home. “Ahem,” Trip coughed. “A very cough-like fake cough if I don’t say so myself.” Trip thought.260

“Oh, there you are.” Charlotte blushed a very small amount. “Ummm, uh… a very cough-like fake cough, wouldn’t you say so?”261

“Yes, in fact, I do declare how utterly indiscernible-from-a-real-cough my pseudo coughs are getting lately.” Trip smiled quite un-facetiously in Charlotte’s direction. “To what reason do The Higgins’ owe the honor of this most unexpected of visits?”262

“Uh, I just wanted to make it clear that I’m not afraid of your ‘Grams’”263

“So noted. Can I invite you in for a spot of tea, crumpets and jam perhaps?”264

“How about a soda and we leave the manners on the porch to run away in the wind next time a big enough gust comes this way?”265

“K, come on in. Grams is asleep and not even a tornado taking us over the rainbow to go land on somebody’s badly dressed sister could wake her. Seriously, she and Pops have slept like the dead for as far back as I can remember.” Trip ducked back through the house and reappeared a moment later carrying two Sprites.266

“Pops?” Charlotte plopped into one of the bigger rocking chairs that could swivel as it reclined.267

“My grandfather. He passed away a little over a year ago.” Trip sprawled out on the loveseat next to the chair Charlotte picked. He held a Sprite over the armrest of the couch and Charlotte swiveled by, snatching it up on her way ‘round.268

“I’m sorry.”269

“Yeah, I’m mostly sorry for Grams. We both miss him, but Grams really lost a good chunk of her spunk when good ole Pops bit the big one.”270

“I can’t relate to the death of a close one, but my mother left us when I was seven.”271

“Do you miss her?”272

“You know, sometimes I really feel like I ought to… but dad and me have everything we need in life in each other and I don’t have much heart-space reserved for the woman who took off, left nothing behind and hasn’t ever tried to contact me. Not even once.”273

Trip took a few sips of his Sprite and tapped on the side of the can thinking up either something good to say in response, or maybe something else that could possibly change the subject successfully. “What really brought you over here today?” Trip sat up and set his Sprite down on the coffee table.274

“I, uh… I like… ...to ride my bike and I was just passing by and thought it’d be nice to say hi.”275

“Nope, not buying. Try again.”276

“Ok, ok. Just promise you won’t laugh.”277

Trip leaned in closer, dying to hear her answer. “I promise, I won’t laugh.”278

“Ok,” Charlotte took a deep breath, let it out. And then took in one more deep breath, “I brought some of my paintings over because I felt bad after you showed interest and I ran out of the car before you could say anything to stop me.” And she exhaled the rest of the way. “Whew, I feel better.”279

“Oh, that’s all?” Trip was a mite disappointed. “Well then, let’s see these paintings!” Charlotte lit up like a Ferris-Wheel. She set her unopened soda down next to Trip’s and dashed out to the porch and just as fast as Trip had gotten the sodas she was back with her portfolio.280

Charlotte had numbered and prearranged each painting for a hundred reasons that she motored out like an auctioneer. As she flipped through Trip noticed how the delicate motions that originated in her lips yesterday in the car had, just that moment, opened up and infected her entire body with its subtle harmony.281

The stack of paintings neared the last painting but just as Charlotte was about to finish, she concluded her bombarding speech and started to shove the paintings back into the portfolio. “Wait, there’s one more.” Trip grabbed a corner of the last painting to be revealed to him.282

“No, no. That one’s not finished. It’s against the world of artistry to let you peek beforehand. So let go.” Charlotte looked white as a ghost.283

“You made that up. Just let me see it already.”284

“No!” She screamed, “You can’t see… that… one!” Trip refused to let go of his corner of the paper. Likewise, Charlotte held onto hers for dear life. They tugged back and forth, pulling harder and harder. Again and again, until… it ripped.285

Charlotte exploded into a parade of tears and jumped over her pile of artwork that she let fall to the floor; then she shot through the front door and peddled away into the ardent sunset, most presumably… balling her eyes the rest of the way out. Trip observed the torn half of the last painting he still had clenched in his fist. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He knelt down and lifted Charlotte’s half up to his and found himself looking into his own face.286


---23---287

Trip meandered from one side of the living room to the other, at least three laps before bending down to pick up Charlotte’s desecrated collection of artwork. Stumble watched from the cranny in the doorway with eyes like boiling blood. Her jealousy burned so red hot it popped the light bulb on Trip’s bedside end table like a bubblegum bubble.288

Trip finished compiling the portfolio back together minus the one irreparably damaged painting he wasn’t even supposed to see in the first place. Stumble saw Trip head for the stairs and she whisked herself up so she’d be there first. Trip climbed up the stairs but with each step up he felt contagiously lower. Once inside his room he hid his eyes with the palms of his hands and sat on the bed facing the opened door.289

Stumble lit up like a gas station on fire. She kicked the door to Trip’s room closed and it broke the molding on the opposite side of the wall. Trip lowered his hands and found himself face-to-face with Stumble. She was panting fiercely and her wings stopped flapping but she remained hovering in her spot nonetheless. Her eyes seemed to have melted out of their sockets and dripped onto the floor in some sort of acidic explosive of ultimate, cosmic energy. 290

A vortex of wind opened up from a hole in Stumble’s chest and blew with the force of a thousand hurricanes through the entire room. Papers and clothes and toys and bed-sheets circled and swirled ferociously in a death-dealing whirl. Trip screamed for his life, “AHHHHH!!!”291

And it stopped. The room settled to the ground, the winds passed and all of the unearthly qualms of personality that had flooded out of Stumble switched off and she herself toppled to the ground amidst the catastrophic mess that had earlier that day resembled Trip’s bedroom.292

Trip brushed the pieces of his room that landed on him off to the floor. He slid to the ground and lifted Stumble into his arms. “Stumble.” He waited a moment. “Stumble?293

She didn’t move… at first. But an itty bitty cough escaped her itty bitty lungs and she slowly flapped her eyes open. Her skin was charred and her hair burned away in parts. Her cute, little, florescent pink fairy garments were ebony night. “I’m sorry Trip. I’m sorry.” And Stumble passed right back out.294

Trip lifted her to his bed and dug through the room remnants until he found all the pieces and inserts of Stumble’s drawer. He assembled them the best he could and dusted away the filth the best he could. He replaced it in the spot on the window sill and gently laid Stumble inside. Then he, himself, crawled to the neck of his bed and with his final ounce of energy brushed away a head’s area of debris off of the mattress… and then he fell asleep too.295

Part Four296

----24----297

Stumble awoke to a luscious sin of a smell. Chocolate chip/blueberry pancakes with scrambled eggs and bacon. Her thimble was filled to the brim on this Friday morning with extra chocolate-chocolate milk, complete with a fairy-sized drinking straw for optimum bubble-blowing potential.298

Stumble ate apprehensively but didn’t put even a portion of a helping to waste. She inspected her reflection in the window and saw that she too had been fixed up and washed clean. But the balk of the room was still in ruin. Stumble felt the Elmer’s Glue residue on the cracks upon her itty bitty fairy heart. She began to cry out drops of Trip’s sweat. She walked down the steps today, pit-falling one of each of the twenty-four steps at a time in reverse chronological order.299

Trip was waiting by the front door with a grin on his face, “Ready to go on our best adventure ever, Stumble?”300

Stumble cried harder and could only manage to force out this one line, “Trip, I love you so much. But I’m going back where I belong and I’m never coming back.” And just like that, Stumble melted to her invisible state and carried her tear-soaked remains back to the portal above the old horse barn.301

Trip didn’t know how to feel. There was a definite emptiness lurking in his soul. “Was she really gone forever?” Trip had to know if Stumble was ok. He couldn’t let her return to the fairy world so heartbroken and torn apart. He didn’t even say goodbye! He, at least, deserved a goodbye.302

Trip ran faster than he had ever run in his whole life over to the back wall of the old horse barn. There was a quiet hum of nature humming in the air. “No!” Trip fell to his knees. “Don’t go! Stumble! Come back, I can’t live without you.” Trip was sobbing like a boy could never admit, “I need you to come back to me-hee-heeee! Stumble!!!” His cheeks shone as bright as the reflections of sun that dipped and floated inside them.303

Trip tried to stand, unsuccessfully. He fell right back down and hit his hand on something hidden in the grass. It was his grandfather’s notebook. He opened it and saw that the rain had only scorched the outer rim of the pages. And Trip suddenly had an idea, and idea born of distress and driven by madness. “If I can’t make Stumble come to me…” Trip ripped a large handful of grass out of the ground and threw it to the side of the old barn. He hit his grandfather’s initials directly. “If I can’t make Stumble come to me… then I’ll bring everybody else to her!”304


----25----305

“Grams! Grams! Come quick!” Trip tore through the living room like a knife through a fairy. “Grams!” Trip pushed back her bedroom door and went in and sat beside her. “Grams you have to look! Pops found a portal the world of fairies and I found one that fell into our world! Grams! Wake up! Grams?” Trip slowly reached his hand over Gram’s shoulder and just as he was about to touch her… she snapped awake!306

“Child, child! What’s the matter, can’t an old woman get any rest in peace?”307

“Grams! It’s unbelievable, I know, but Pops found a portal to the world of fairies out behind the old horse barn when he was younger and now it’s opened back up and I found a fairy that fell out here in our world!” Trip sat down on the bed and let his breath catch back up with him.308

“What have you done to my Byron’s notebook!?” She grabbed the notebook from Trip’s fingers.309

“Read it. It’s all in there. I’m telling the truth. I promise!”310

Grams felt the curves by the spine with her wrinkled old fingers and thought for a moment in silence. She closed her eyes and held open the pages of the notebook in front of here. Then she opened just one eye and looked into its contents. Trip felt his heart rest easy in his chest and sighed a big sigh of relief. But what Grams said next tore his heart right out of this dimension.311

“Trip honey…” Grams face was littered with tears, “this notebook is empty.”312

“What? No! It’s full! Look, look, look! It’s… full…” Trip stole the notebook back and flipped wildly through the diary entries and progression of dates and handwriting and…. Nothing. Absolutely nothing! The notebook was empty as the day it was bought!313

“I don’t… understand. Grams? Where did the writing go?” Trip was flailing his limbs in an uncontrollable fit.314

“Honey, calm down! There’s something you don’t know about your grandfather. My Byron.” Trip just shook harder. “He was schizophrenic.”315


----26----316

“I don’t believe you!” Trip’s nose started to bleed profusely.317

“Trip, I can’t help you if you don’t calm down. Your grandfather sometimes saw things… that weren’t really there. It’s entirely conceivable that he scribbled miles and miles of blank writing and believed he was filling the pages with the vast and exciting story of his life. Do you understand what I’m telling you Trip?”318

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!!!” Trip hollered until his voiced cracked. The pain seared through Trip’s neck and spread through his chest. His body still wobbled frantically and the blood from his nose was dying his dark blue shirt bright, bright red.319

Trip crawled, ran and crawled and ran dawn the hallway and out the front door. It was nighttime. The crickets scratched at broken violins and the owls “Who’ed” and “Who’ed” until Trip barely knew who even he was anymore. He was coughing and panting in a roundabout pattern but he didn’t stop. He had to make it to the old horse barn. Stumble just had to come to him now. How could she ignore him now?320

Trip made it to the backside of the barn. He fell to his back and held his shirt over his nose to try and coerce the bleeding to stop. But he repeated just this one line over and over in a dilapidated whisper, “Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Stumble, if you love me save me now. Save me Stumble…321

And from somewhere high above the jagged walls of the ancient, ancient horse barn… the most beautiful fairy that anybody had ever seen appeared like an answer to a prayer.322


----27----323

“Trip.” Stumble wore a white dress. Her tears had cleared up and she was instead smiling just as sweetly as she had smiled that day when she first met Trip.324

“Stumble.” Trip’s nosebleed stopped, but as soon as he started talking the pesky tears started to pour out too. Lots of them… itty bitty ones. “Stumble, I don’t know what’s real anymore. You’re the only thing I’m sure of anymore. Nothing makes any sense and I need you, Stumble. I need you to tell me what’s real. I need you to tell me what’s real, Stumble!”325

“Oh Trip. I do love you. And if it’s really what you truly want me to tell you, then I will. I will tell you what’s real. Are you sure you want me to tell you what’s real?”326

“Yes.” Trip pouted and cried and sobbed, “Yes, I do. I want you to tell me what’s real.”327

“Alright Trip. I’ll tell you what’s real. Now listen very closely. The only thing that will always be real, the only thing that will have even been real… is the love Charlotte has had for you in her heart ever since the first day she saw you when see looked through the front window and saw you eavesdropping on her father and your grandmother talking. Her love for you is the only thing that’s real.”328

And just as abruptly as Stumble had arrived, she was gone.329


----28----330

Trip limped and sighed up through the un-mown section of grass around the old horse barn. The moon hugged its spot in the sky for fear of losing what she had witnessed that night actually was ever-so-disturbingly-possible to lose. Trip crossed his back yard and leaned on the eggshell siding of his house and it shuffled him to the last corner he’d have to turn until he was safely home.331

But this sight couldn’t be right. Home isn’t a place ablaze with flashing red and blue lights. Home is where the trouble is over. Home is where you know what’s real and it knows you back, and nothing ever comes to threaten to take that away from you.332

Trip stumbled his last stumble up the front steps of his porch and sat there where Charlotte had set her bike. “Grams!” he called. “Grams, I’m back! Grams it’s all ok now, Grams!”333

Grams didn’t answer Trip. A dark blue-suited policewoman with an oddly funny square-ish hat answered him. “Son, did you know that your grandmother has been dead since Wednesday night? We came in when a neighborhood kid said he had gone over to give a swirl-y to a nerdy little fat boy when he noticed a smell coming from the bedroom. Do you understand what I’m telling you, boy? Boy? Are you ok? I think we’re gunna’ need another stretcher over here! Oh my God, you’re covered in blood! Son, what happened to you? Son?”334

Hands lifted Trip onto a canvas blanket. Hands lifted that blanket up into the back of a very loud truck. Hands shut the door to that truck, wrapping everything in darkness. Hands drove the steering wheel of that truck ninety miles an hour all the way to the hospital of the city whose truck made it out to the country first. Hands adjusted dials on the wall of the truck that switched on different colored lights. Hands strapped the belts over Trip’s chest and stomach down taut. Hands fixed the sheet that fell off the body of the dead old lady lying next to Trip, but not before Trip saw the mangled and rotted twists of decay that masked something Trip could have sworn was the only living family he had left in this world. He would have bet his bottom dollar and everything.335


----29----336

Trip slept until late Saturday night. He woke clean and calm. The straps were still there but there was one new change. Mr. Williams and his beautiful daughter Charlotte were sitting in the chairs at the foot of his bed in a devastatingly white-walled hospital room.337

“Hi people.” Trip tried to make conversation. They just looked accusingly at each other as if the right thing to say was obviously always somebody else’s responsibility to know right off the bat.338

Contingency knocked in the manifestation of an ugly, balding, glasses-wearing doctor. “Hello, Frederick and Charlotte, is it? Visiting hours are winding down but we’re all so grateful for you to have come at such short notice. This ‘unwanted’ boy,” the doctor did a little quotation marks hand gesture, “has no living family members and apparently nobody else who would have cared to be here either.”339

Mr. Williams yelled at the doctor, “Excuse me, asshole! This boy just heard everything you just said! He isn’t an “un-wan-ted-boy” he’s a brilliant and creative wonder-child, who just so happens to be the only living descendant of the nicest person I’ve ever met in my entire life! This boy is MY family, legal documents or not! And if the hospital sends us any more “unwanted” bullshit I’m going to be sending the doctors to the hospital in an ambulance, strapped down with their deceased grandmothers’ corpses bouncing around in the seat next to them!”340

The doctor glanced over at Trip, who blinked weakly, then gathered his clipboards and ran out of the door and down the hall. Mr. Williams approached Trip and clasped Trip’s hand inside his. “Mr. Williams.” Trip stammered through a smile that hurt to hold.341

“Call me Freddy, dear boy. Your grandfather used to call me that when I would visit your house to play with George. Everybody who’s anybody calls me Freddy.”342

Trip’s mind raced out of control. “The notebook!” he pinched out of his throat. Trip’s eyeballs felt like they had popped out of his skull entirely. “The notebook! The notebook! You must get the notebook! It was my grandfather’s! It’s going to make everything better again! I just need it now, please Mr. Williams! Charlotte, I love you! I know you love me! The notebook! It’s on the floor in my grandmother’s room! Charlotte, I loved the last painting! You must get me that notebook! You must!”343

Four new doctors came in to steady Trip and shoot him up with tranquilizers. Trip’s eyes twirled around to the back of his mind. The sleep had swallowed him up again. He had failed.344


----30----345

Sundays were different. Pops had died on a Sunday and ever since that first terrible event a little over a year ago… Sundays have always been different. Trip had met Stumble just one Sunday ago. And now, one week later Trip awaited his next miracle as the dream-world bobbled his thoughts back to the beginning of his sad, sad story. But he didn’t fret. After all, it was Sunday… and Sundays were different.346

Trip woke up. The straps had been removed. Charlotte was holding tightly onto Trip’s hand and lying next to Trip’s other hand was his grandfather’s notebook.347

Trip flipped through the empty pages of the notebook. To the end… to the end… yes! “I love you Pops!” Trip was overjoyed. He read the entry on the bottom half of the very last page of the notebook.348

March, 2005349


I went to the old horse barn today. It was amazing. They all came to see me off. The fairy queen, Queen Lily and the fairy king, King George were there crying as I joined them. I have one last message for my most precious Tripkins. I’d never leave you alone my son. I know a princess in the hereafter that owes me a favor. She’ll lead you true. But as a gift directly from me just tear the leather covering off of this old notebook you don’t need anymore and unwrap the greatest gift I could ever have given to you. I’ll always love you my boy, my George and I live on in you! 350

Trip was crying as he peeled away the leather coating on the notebook. Charlotte was desperately confused, “Trip, you just read an empty page! What are you doing?”351

A small slip of paper was pressed between the leather backing and the cardboard covers of the notebook. Trip lifted it up and carefully unfolded the creases. It was a technical looking document with Grams’ and Pops’ signatures signed across the bottom. Across the top in big bold letters it said “Legal Guardianship Will” and in the black rectangle of who they had named as the new guardian of a one, Trip J. Higgins… was a one [ Frederick R. Williams ].352


----31----353

Stumble smiled down from her perch on a nice cumulous cloud. “’Atta boy Trip.”354

“So you ARE coming back to stay this time Stumbalina?”355

“God, mother! You start with that stupid name and you get the whole kingdom doing it before you know it.”356

“Ahem…” Queen Lily tapped her foot.357

“Yes, Yes! Jeepers! I only have one small favor to ask in return for my compliance in staying in the fairy world and marrying that what’s-his-name guy.”358

“Anything my dear daughter. What is it you desire?”359

“My first child… will be named Trip.”360

361

The End
362