Moonchild, A Faerie's Tale

Episode 5: Trapped! In a desperate attempt to save her human best friend Eleanor, Moonchild finds herself in trouble.

Chapter 5: Trapped!

 

            Holding her faeriefinderorb under an arm, Moonchild flew from Moondazewaxing’s backyard faerierealm. Her flight in returning to the farm, even though she was fully determined, was not nearly as hasty as her departure. As she swerved around a haystack in the field, she glanced back to see her father hovering there, unmoving. No gestures were exchanged.

Hopeful now, Moonchild held on to the understanding there was something she could attempt to save Eleanor. No not attempt, she scolded herself, she would carry out the procedure and succeed in saving her precious friend Eleanor. Tearing at her heart was the outcome Moondazewaxing had reluctantly explained. He told her that either action or inaction could mean an end to her and Eleanor’s relationship�"with or without his advised course of action she realized there would be no happily ever after for faerie and child.

With this terrible notion, Moonchild felt her fortitude weaken with her glow fading and her flight falter, but she refocused to quicken and adjust her flight. She envisioned Eleanor’s happy, laughing face to reestablish what Eleanor meant to her and her final objective. She continued across the hay stubble field and when she reached the far hedgerow, she paused to look back to her father one final time. His royal blue faerieglow was no longer discernible.

 Moonchild flittered through the weeds and brush of the hedgerow passing through one of the wire boxes in the rusty livestock fencing. Finding herself in the other open field, a rabbit bounded out into the open at the same time. The dame rabbit froze just a ways from Moonchild and eyed the faerie with concerned large brown eyes.

“Do not be alarmed, madam rabbit,” Moonchild said, casting her own eyes upon the rabbit. “Never a threat from my kind for I, myself, am off to save a dear friend’s life.”

            “’Tis a very noble thing,” said the rabbit in sincere admiration while continuing on her hopping way.

            Moonchild went on her own way across the field, retracing her earlier flight path. She pressed on into the early morning twilight, her favorite time of the day, but she really didn’t remember that fact, just that she needed to become more vigilant in the daylight hours for humankind.

            Quite soon, surprisingly quickly, she found herself at the big lake of the Gnosh Gnomes, but she didn’t search them out or see any sign of the gnome family. She ventured past the farm where the little girls had called out to her, but at this morning hour, Moonchild had to veer away because the master of this farm was driving his cattle out to pasture. Moonchild thought the cows appeared contented, but of course she realized, they had just been milked. She continued on to the west, replaying her route backwards in her mind.

            The day progressed along with Moonchild’s travels. She had the single-minded purpose foremost focused, but she kept reminding herself of dangers to her kind out in the open of unfamiliar territory. That is probably why the FairieElders provided rules for faeries to stay put.

Onward she flew, changing her velocity according to the terrain, quick like a dart over open ground or flittering slow where cover was heavy and maneuvering proved necessary. Moonchild especially enjoyed following streambeds in their sinuous, winding paths because they reminded her of her own small trickling brook. For an instant, she thought about dipping her feet into the cool water and wading, but reminded herself she had no time for such dawdling dilly-dally. 

            Moonchild remembered where she entered this particular streambed on the going voyage and so now, she popped up  passing through the bent, leaning black willow trees, and out into the neighbor’s plowed field�"the last open field before Eleanor’s family farm.

The one thing that suddenly struck Moonchild was that as she grew closer to her own home, there were fewer and fewer farmers out working the fields. Her heart sank with the thoughts of death, recalling how humans gather to place the dead in the ground. NO! She could not be too late.

She increased her speed, flying through the final hedgerow without slowing down. She saw Gus Gnome nearby, but she did not even double-check�"no time for chitchat.

            Suddenly, as she rose over a hillock nearing the familiar farmstead, she heard noises: many voices, banging, horses moving about and more, not at all like what she had witnessed when the human planted their dead. She sped on across the field, closer to where the barn fell in ruin. She didn’t greet the cows in the far north forty pasture who all turned toward her, but she kept her focus forward toward the homestead.

As suddenly as she had discerned the noise, the realization befell her�"all the neighbors from the surrounding farms were here at the homestead. Were they still here because of the fire? No, the offensive smell of fire had gone, and all the charred timbers had been pushed aside, heaped up at the edge of her tame wilds. A chill crossed her thoughts, but she shook that selfish thought from her mind.

            “Ah, ha,” Moonchild whispered a relief to herself, recalling many years ago. “The neighbors are barn raising for her human family.”

She saw heavy wagons with fresh-cut timbers and lumber in them. There were people everywhere with several men hard at work carrying and resetting the stone where the barn’s foundation was damaged during the fire.

Moonchild slowed and hovered in the foliage to search for Eleanor. She saw Joseph running with the other boys, but they were halted by an adult and scolded to get back to work. She saw master standing with a well-dressed man holding blue paper discussing and pointing toward the barn site. Moonchild saw that master leaned on a cane and had a linen wrap on his injured leg. Mother and Elizabeth carried a pail with a dipper in it, giving drinks to the men working on the stone foundation. She didn’t see Eleanor and that made her uneasy.

Moonchild charily made her way through the wilds and quickly hid her faeriefinderorb in her cache. She was glad that the piled barn ruins did not wreck any of her faerierealm. She then moved along the margin between the trimmed backyard and wilds until she could make a mad dash for her secret portal into the house. Passing within, she noticed now that the paint on the back of the house had blistered from the fire’s heat.

            The house also brimmed with activity. Strange women and girls worked in the kitchen around steaming pots of food. Long tables lined the great room with place settings for a great many people. Moonchild realized that all the humans working needed to eat, and they were eating here soon.

She zoomed up the ornate stairs and straight into Eleanor’s room. Three girls Eleanor’s age sat on her bed reading or playing with dolls. Moonchild slammed on her brakes and hid in a corner. Peeking out, she then tiptoed around the perimeter of the room until she snuck in under the bed. She heard Eleanor cough three times hard, and the other girls abruptly went silent.

            “Can we get you anything, Eleanor?” one voice asked.

            “Want me to get your mother?” asked another.

            “A drink, take a drink,” said the third.

            “No, no, NO! Please don’t be so nice,” Eleanor said impatiently. “I am fine.”

She started coughing again. One girl slowly, silently, left the room. Moonchild worried there under the bed. She had to see her friend, to see how she truly felt. Moonchild slowly flittered up keeping a careful watch at the two remaining girls, but they seemed focused on Eleanor laying there unmoving, tucked in under her favorite quilt grandma had made.

Moonchild saw Eleanor breathed deep and heard her chest rattle with every breath, but the sight of Eleanor’s face took Moonchild’s own breath away. Eleanor appeared nearly the same as the china doll that lay near one of the girl’s knees. Eleanor’s face was as shiny and white with dark rimmed eyes as the doll, beautiful in a way Moonchild thought, but not the active, running Eleanor she knew at all.

            Spotting Moonchild, Eleanor took a deep breath and let out a gasp of surprise and joy. Moonchild back flittered behind the hairbrush on the dresser.

            “What? What Eleanor? What’s the matter?” The girls exclaimed.

            Eleanor coughed once. “No, I’m fine. I, ah, fell asleep and had a little, tiny dream�"a nice dream.” She coughed again. “I need to sleep. Maybe you can help your mums in the kitchen for awhile?”

            “My mother said I should stay here with you to watch for signs,” the red-headed girl said.

            “What signs?” Eleanor asked, staring at the dresser top.

            “Shut up,” the dark haired girl said to the red headed girl. “Don’t say things like that to Eleanor�"Eleanor? Why do you look over there?”

            “Fine, I said,” said Eleanor, turning to each of the girls in turn, looking each in the eye adamantly. “I need to be with�"I need to be alone�"please”

            The dark haired girl hesitantly said, “All right, but call if you need anything. Come on.”

She pulled on the other girl’s calico dress sleeve and they walked out of the bedroom looking over their shoulders.

            Moonchild saw Eleanor’s eyes grow happy and huge. “Moonchild! Hello, you’re back!” she whispered loudly.

            The little faerie stood up beside the hairbrush and waved while peeking out the door.

            “They’re gone,” Eleanor said. “At least for a little while. You’ve been gone so long, I missed you!” She started coughing.

            Moonchild flittered over and laid a hand on her arm. “Oh, hello yourself, I wasn’t gone all that long.”

            “Four whole days,” Eleanor said. “I missed you, but these girls! They talk all the time. Oh, they’re not like you at all my faerie friend.”

            “I know, I know,” Moonchild said. “Sorry I had to leave, but I had to go see another faerie, ah about a sick friend.”

            “You have a sick faerie friend?” Eleanor asked.

            Moonchild looked aside. “Hmmm, hmmm.” She nodded.

            “I never thought about fairies getting sick or, or dying,” Eleanor said.

            “Dying?”

            “Don’t fairies die?”

            Moonchild folded her hands. “Well, yes, of course we do eventually, but why do you talk about that?”

            “Oh, Pastor Paul came to see me,” Eleanor said. “He prayed about getting better and spoke about people dying and Jesus saving their souls.”

            “Oh, of course,” Moonchild said, looking to the window. “There are so many people around here, and building a new barn?”

            “Yes, isn’t it grand?” Eleanor smiled. “Bigger than the old one! Father said I’ll have chickens to care for, and Elizabeth will have a calf in a warm place before winter.”

            “That is nice,” Moonchild said. “A barn is a special place for sure. I saw master out there; he seems to be standing on his hurt leg.”

            “Yes, Doctor Welling was here today. He told me father will be fine as long as he doesn’t work too hard,” Eleanor said, smiling grimly. “Doctor told me it was my job to make sure father didn’t hurt himself, but I am stuck here in bed.”

            “Doctor told you to stay here?” Moonchild asked.

            “Yes, because yesterday I fell down in the parlor after I got up on my own,” Eleanor said.

            “Do you have medicine?” Moonchild looked around.

            “No,” Eleanor said glumly. “Doctor said I have to eat and drink all good things to get better.”

            “Oh, of course,” Moonchild said, standing up. She looked at the bed and noticed Eleanor was lying in the center of it. “Isn’t Elizabeth sleeping with you?”

            “No, she sleeps in the other room. She says it is better for me, but I think my coughing keeps her awake.” Eleanor began coughing and had to bend forwards to stop. Moonchild laid a tiny hand on Eleanor’s pinkish white hand.

            “Well, that’s good for you and me,” she winked. “I can sleep with you!”

            “Come now,” Eleanor said, wiping her nose. “You told me fairies don’t sleep.”

            “Maybe we don’t, but we still have to rest.”

            They heard steps on the stairs�"heavy steps.

            “Mother comes.”

            “Right! I’ll come back later,” Moonchild said, flittering up and giving Eleanor a peck on the forehead. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said, smiling.

            “You too, ‘cause you’re the one who ran, ah, flew off,” Eleanor whispered.

            “Who you talking to dear?” asked Mother in the doorway. Moonchild flittered up to the dresser again.

            “Just reciting some of Peter Rabbit’s sayings,” Eleanor said.

            “That’s good. Keeps you busy,” Mother said, standing next to the bed. “Where are your friends?”

            “They’re around,” she smiled.

            “Nice to see you smile,” Mother said, laying a hand on Eleanor’s forehead. “How do you feel?”

            Eleanor glanced up to the dresser and saw Moonchild peeking from behind the brush. “Oh, much, much better, suddenly.”

            “I’m happy to hear that. Can I get you something? Doctor said, to eat good things.”

            “Hmm, hmm,” Eleanor said, with a nod. “A glass of milk.”

            “Good! I’ll bring it directly, honey.”

            Mother left the room and Moonchild flittered down to Eleanor’s bedside.

            “I’d better go before she comes back,” said Moonchild looking at the door. “But I’ll return when it is safer.”

            “I’ll be here,” Eleanor said, smiling and waving. “Bye.”

            Moonchild waved back and flittered carefully out the door, down the stairs, and dangerously past all the unfamiliar neighbors. No one noticed as she slid out her portal. She pondered the instructions her father had given her as she made her way to the tame wilds. The neighbors outside were finishing their work on the barn and getting ready to eat dinner before going home to do their own chores.

Moonchild decided to stop at the birdbath fountain to think. She flittered around to the backside but suddenly, she felt something touch her sensitive broken wing. Horrified, she saw it was a dead monarch butterfly suspended in midair. Moonchild backed away and something grabbed her other wing. She twisted to find her wing stuck in a sticky web of thread. A trap for insects had snared her!

She stopped struggling because she instantly found the harder she tried to escape the tighter the trap held her. Moonchild felt doomed; the trap must have been the boys’ doing to catch butterflies. She calmed her frantic glow and tried to curl up the best she could so wouldn’t be seen, but the poor, dead butterfly hung there, spread wide and easily seen from a distance. If the boys noticed, they would surely investigate, and close up they would see her too. She envisioned her doomed imprisonment in a Ball jar forever. She shook in fear, yet her thoughts went back to poor Eleanor’s needs tonight, too.

Moonchild worked on the threads hoping to break free. With a fierce faerie effort twisting and pulling, she could break a thread one at a time, but there were a great many threads holding her and her twisting movement would definitely draw attention. She froze when she heard steps behind her. Craning her neck to see around behind, she saw it was Elizabeth�"all alone. Drawing up all of her courage, Moonchild took a deep breath and raised her voice.

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