Young Writers Society

By the end of May, when the flowers were in full bloom and the fruit on the apricots trees were perfectly ripe, Poet hopped onto a train. It was a long ride to the countryside where her grandmother lived but she rather enjoyed it. The scenery of fields of marigolds and lavender was beautiful. The train went through tunnels and through dense forests of evergreens, and Poet always looked forward to seeing her grandmother through the thinly paned window when the train finally strained to a stop.

The train station was a small, old fashioned building and was beautiful like the rest of the town. Its architecture was elegant and refined like most things from its original era. As the doors of the train opened, Poet stepped out and looked around. The cluttered crowd of tall adults was hard for her to see through, but through the crack of space between a young couple, she could see her grandmother sitting on a green bench.

Poet skipped over to her grandmother and hugged her. The old woman chuckled and held Poet’s hand, “How was your train ride, dear?” she asked. It was Poet’s first train ride alone. Usually her older brother, Oliver came with her but he wanted to spend his summer with their father in France.

“It was nice,” Poet smiled and spoke with her silvery voice.

“I’m glad to hear it,” her grandmother said and squeezed her hand. “Well how about some ice cream?”

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Poet and her grandmother walked hand in hand along the gravel path of the country side. The hot spring sun melted Poet’s ice cream, sending it in streams down her hand. The houses along the gravel road were quaint and cozy, with white picketed fences, red brick, and colorful shutters.

Grandmother’s house was a small cottage like home at the end of the road. It was surrounded by fields of wild flowers and resembled little red riding hood’s grandmother’s cottage. The thought made Poet giggle.

“Here we are, then,” Poet’s grandmother panted, she was slightly out of breath from the long walk. Her long, thin fingers wrapped around the lock and opened the gate and Poet’s grandmother motioned for Poet to walk in.

Joyfully, Poet hopped into the yard and skipped to the front door, eager to get inside. Once her grandmother turned the lock, her wish was granted. The inside of the cottage was cozier than the already cozy outside, with a fire place, old books and knitted blankets thrown around.

Poet dashed past her grandmother, laughing and giggling with excitement and ran up to her bedroom which was upstairs.

The upstairs of the cottage used to be an attic but Poet’s grandfather built bedrooms and a bathroom up there for Poet, Oliver and their parents. There was a small bathroom with a tiny bathtub not even big enough for Oliver to stretch out his long legs and green cabinets decorated with flowers. Poet’s parent’s bedroom was on the far side of the upstairs and had crème colored walls and a colorful quilt on a queen sized bed.

Poet and Oliver shared a bedroom. It was a small room with simple floral wallpaper. On the flowers that were painted on the wallpaper you could see little fairies hiding, dancing and doing their fairy like things. Poet loved fairies, her grandmother had given her many books about them for her birthdays and Christmases.

With a grin she walked over to her bed, hers was the one by the window. She fought her brother over getting that bed. Poet loved to look at the stars at night, hoping and dreaming of the dancing fairies and their night songs.

“Poet!” her grandmother called from downstairs.

“Yes, Granny?” Poet yelled back.

“I made marble cake, if you want some, come and get it!”

Immediately Poet dropped her little suitcase on the floor and ran down stairs to the kitchen. The marble cake was on a platter on the counter and Poet had to stand on her tippy toes to reach it. She took two pieces being greedy and ate one of them as fast as she could before her grandmother could scold her. Then she went outside to sit on the swing and to slowly eat the second slice.

The swing was probably Poet’s favorite thing about her grandmother’s house. It was simple; a plank of wood and a rope, but it was the tree that it was hanging from that Poet loved. The tree was a weeping willow that took over most of the large yard and there was a stream that ran through the back separating the dense wood from the house’s property.

It was beautiful and whenever Poet looked at it her imagination went wild! She imagined the pretty fairies singing and dancing in its branches. Her grandmother said that the sound of the leaves rustling were actually the whispers of the willow fairies, silently singing and whispering their songs.

Poet swung on her swing until the sun set in the west, the orange colors melted against each other and bled like ink through the leaves of the weeping willow tree. The smell of Poet’s grandmother’s cooking swam across the wind filling Poet’s nose with the smell of roast beef, gravy and pies.

⁂

A week had passed since Poet had her first train ride alone, and now she was standing knee deep in a muggy pond. Her overalls were rolled up to her knees and mud was painted on her face like war paint. Birds sang and flapped through the trees, creating a ruckus.

In her little hand she held a large stick she found in the woods and was stabbing away at the slimy fish in the pond. Suddenly, the noise of the forest seized and Poet looked around confused. The whispers of the willows were the only sound in whole wood. Slowly, Poet stepped out of the pond and as her bare foot touched the damp dirt, she heard a quiet little giggle. Shocked and scared, Poet dropped her stick and looked around frantically. The water from the splash of the stick bounced back and covered Poet’s petite little body with water.

The giggle grew louder and turned into a cackle. Poet pushed her soaked blonde curls back, revealing her beet red face and glared around looking for whatever was laughing at her and this time she saw it. To her shock, there was a little creature seated on a branch, his little legs were dangling back and forth as he wheezed of laughter.

Once the silver haired figure caught Poet’s eye, his lips formed a straight line and his giggles stopped. Poet was not amused. Her clothes were soaked with muddy water and she now had to find her way home and explain to her grandmother why she was soaked and covered in mud from head to toe.

Suddenly, Poet’s eyes grew wide once she saw the little figure had sprouted wings that were curled behind his small torso. The figure, which Poet was now certain was a fairy, flew down from the tree branch above and down to Poet. Before they exchanged words, he started to twirl around her, faster and faster until he stopped and Poet was magically clean. All the mud on her disappeared and there wasn’t a single drop of water on her body.

Poet gasped and looked around but everything seemed so large. Her head became fuzzy and out of dizziness she fell on her backside, onto the soft grass that tickled her cheeks.

The fairy walked over to Poet with a huge grin on his face and gave her his hand to help her up. “Good afternoon,” he said politely. Poet took his hand and let him help her up but didn’t answer him. She didn’t even know what to say.

The fairy whispered, “This is when you say ‘good afternoon’ back or at least acknowledge the person who spoke to you.”

Poet took a step back, her eyes frightened and answered in a squeaky voice, “Good afternoon…”

The fairy laughed, “Gosh, don’t look terrified. Haven’t you seen a fairy before?” he giggled, knowing that she hadn’t. She shook her head and the fairy responded, “Well, I will introduce myself first. My name is Eldon Willow.” After a long pause of Poet just staring at him, he spoke again, “and yours is?”

“Poet,” she squeaked out.

Eldon raised an eyebrow and answered, “Hmm that’s unusual name. Usually humans have names like Mary, William, Elizabeth, Jonathan or Frederick…”

Poet shrugged and answered quietly, “My brother’s name is Oliver and that’s a pretty common name…”

Eldon nodded and then changed the subject, “Well…I’d best be going on my way.” The fairy turned around and jumped up into the hair like a cat. His wings started to flutter and pull him away into the far away tree tops. “Have a nice day!” he called out as he disappeared, his wings camouflaging with the willow leaves.

Poet shook her head of the idea of that particular conversation and turned to walk home. After walking around trying to find anything that reminded her of the way she came, she gave up and with a huff sat down on a large mushroom. With a frown on her face, Poet threw and stick at a huge tree trunk.

Suddenly, with a gasp, she realized that everything was very, very large and perhaps…she had shrunk… Now to think of it, the fairy seemed to have been the same size as her when they were talking but not before, he was no bigger than a pencil at first. But no, Poet shook her head, that was all out of her imagination. It happened often, the daydreaming was a horrible habit of hers that Poet’s school teachers found very annoying.

But maybe it was true… Poet looked up at the huge trees that towered above her and looked down at the large mushroom she sat on. Suddenly with a sob, tears starting falling down her face, “Oh God!” she called out, “How will I get home now?” The fairy was gone and left her alone and shrunk.

Poet sat there on the mushroom, tears falling down her cheeks like rushing streams falling down the side of a mountain. Her sobs filled the forest that was quiet expect for the random chirp of a bird or snap of a branch.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting their crying out a sea but soon a voice interrupted her, “Why are you crying?” a male voice asked.

Poet looked up surprised and stared at Eldon Willow, his eyebrow was raised and his face was confused, “Because I’m lost…” Poet replied and as soon as she spoke those words, her lip started to quiver again.

Eldon tilted his head like a confused puppy and answered, “What do you mean?”

Poet, annoyed at the fact that Eldon didn’t understand, spoke, “I’m shrunk and I can’t find my way home. It’s getting late and once it’s dark, I’ll really be lost!” her voice started to rise as her salty tears flowed out of her eyes rapidly.

With her little hands Poet whipped the water off her cheeks but that water was soon replaced by more tears. Eldon blinked and answered, “Well…I know how to get you home.”

Poet gasped, “You do?”

Eldon nodded and beckoned her to follow him. Poet hopped down from the mushroom and whipped her face for the last time. They walked through the forest, hopping over branches that would normally snap under Poet’s original sized feet. The sound of rushing water filled her ears and Eldon climbed a large rock, behind it was a waterfall with giant leaves flowing down with it like boats.

Eldon’s head popped up and with a hand he helped Poet onto the rock with him. They both climbed onto a red maple leaf and sat down. Poet looked around at the water and the bank. There was a giant rabbit standing on its hind legs, its nose trembling and its eyes staring at them. Eldon grinned and waved at the rabbit who to Poet’s shock waved back.

She felt like she was dreaming, it was so unrealistic. It was as if she was a fairytale character in a fantastical world. Looking over at Eldon and at his features, she compared him to the fairies in her books. They were incredible accurate. Eldon had wavy silver hair that covered his pointed ears, high cheek bones, lean muscles, dragonfly wings and crystal blue eyes. He wore clothes sewn out of willow leaves and no shoes. He had a constant smirk and loved teasing, confusing and tricking people. He was so accurate, Poet could have imagined him.

“How much longer until we’re there? I want to make sure I’m home for supper…” Poet spoke, her mind started to wonder as she thought about her grandmother’s cooking.

Eldon chuckled and answered, “You won’t make it home for supper, I’ll tell you that. I should expect us to be there tomorrow evening.”

Poet frowned, “Oh…”

“I mean if we flew, we would be there perhaps…at moonlight. But you don’t have wings…” Eldon mumbled.

“Well…couldn’t you give me fairy dust or something?” Poet’s eyes widened.

Eldon laughed so hard that he had to clutch his gut, “It’ll take a week to get some of that.”

“What do you mean? Don’t all fairies have dust with them?” Poet asked, she had read it so many times in her books.

“Nope,” Eldon leaned back and covered his eyes with his arm, blocking out the sun. “Only golden wings…”

“Golden wings?” Poet questioned curiously.

“Yeah. They’re the queen’s fairies. They’re pretty much the law keepers of the fae,” Eldon explained.

“Oh…okay…” Poet mumbled disappointedly and with a sigh turned to look at the trees above and around her.

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Poet’s stomach started to grumble like a grumpy grizzly bear, rampaging. “Eldon?” she spoke quietly.

“Hmm?” Eldon turned his head around to look at her.

“Um…I’m hungry…” She spoke awkwardly.

“Okay,” Eldon looked ahead again. Poet sighed, disappointed and tired of walking. “…Darn humans get hungry so fast…” Eldon mumbled. Poet’s eyes widened and filled with hope, “Come along then,” Eldon beckoned Poet to follow and he took her to a berry bush.

With his wings he flew up and pulled a raspberry off the bush. He let it fall onto a pile of leaves and roll towards Poet. The raspberry was huge! So big in fact that half the berry would be too much for Poet’s small stomach.

Eldon landed on to the ground with a soft thump, “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Poet smiled gratefully and with her small hands she ripped a chunk of the berry’s wall off. The juice stained her hands and chin purple as she bit into it, the soft berry filling her mouth.

When Poet was full, Eldon brought her to a small pond where she tried to wash her hands and face of the purple stain. After that the sun set, filling the sky with golden colors and soon after that, lantern like stars that filled the entire sky.

Eldon lead Poet to a tree and he started to climb but when Poet tried to climb after him, she fell onto her back side. Eldon ended up carrying her and flying up there, by the time they both sat on a high branch, he was out of breath.

It was extremely dark except for the beams of moonlight that fell through the cracks between the leaves. Poet couldn’t fall asleep and when she asked Eldon if he was going to sleep too, he answered, “No, us fairies don’t sleep as often as humans.” Poet didn’t ask anymore questions after that, but she slowly nodded off into sleep.