Fairy (6 page)

“We really can't give out information to the public, ma'am. I'm very sorry.”

“The public?” She waved her arms around. “It's just me standing here.
And she was my fucking friend!
”

Neighbors craned their necks to get a better look at the drama, but they remained on their own property, standing in their doorways or yards.

“I really am sorry, but I need you to return to your vehicle.”

“Fucking bastard.” She grunted as she rose to her feet and made her way back into her car. The image of Cliff standing outside of the house entered her mind, him staring up at the upstairs window, Billy's bedroom maybe. The man had gone crazy, Cecilia thought. But what could have pushed him over the edge like that? He had a wonderful wife, a beautiful family.

We tried again and again, but it kept happening. We were devastated, heartbroken. But I was told, I was told what to do.

Cecilia drove away, glancing in her rearview as she crept down the street. Billy's grinning face ignited inside of her skull.
Did he cause this? Did the little boy drive his father to murder?

She ran a trembling hand over her belly, the cold sensation swirling inside.
No, it wasn't the child. It was Cliff. The man had lost it, that's all. Happens all the time.

She wiped the streaming tears from her cheeks, fished her cell phone out of her pocket; she thought maybe she should call the office, let everyone know what happened. The Voice Mail icon flashed.
Odd,
she thought.
I don't remember getting a call.
She hit the Missed Calls icon and saw Judy's name, time-stamped last night.

With an unsteady finger, she dialed her voice mail, pressed the phone to her ear. She pulled the car to the side of the road and threw it in Park.

“New message, sent July 25, 10:09 p.m.,” the robotic woman's voice said.

“C-Celia? I'm s-so sorry. Oh Jesus…I'm sor-sorry.” There was a deeper voice muttering something in the background, followed by a growl and then a high-pitched screech. Judy whimpered. “I h-had to pass it on. It's part of…part of the rules. Oh god, I'm so sorry. If you get this message, forget everything I told you. Don't invite it into your room.”

The deep voice continued to mutter, and it sounded just as scared as Judy did. “Get the fuck back!”
It was Cliff.

“Celia, I hope you get this in time. I h-hope you…”

Cliff screamed, then Judy. There was a wet tearing sound and a series of thick squeals, like a pig being slaughtered.

“End of message,” the robotic voice said. “To delete this message, press seven. To save—”

Cecilia threw the phone against the passenger door, slammed her fists into the steering wheel, honking the horn, then collapsed against it, sobbing.

It rained at the funeral. Cecilia stood back, couldn't bring herself to approach the two caskets surrounded by Judy's and Cliff's families. The two families steered clear of each other, all refusing to look at one another. She caught bits and pieces of conversations, Judy's family grumbling about how Cliff was a murderer, how they hoped he got the death penalty, hoped he burned in hell for what he did. Cliff's side of the family speaking about how Cliff was a good man, would never do something like this. That it must have been Judy who instigated it or that he was framed.

As the congregation walked back toward their vehicles, Cecilia averted her gaze, stared at her shoes. She couldn't look any of these people in the eye, not when she knew the truth. Or at least she thought she did.

Once the area cleared out, she took a deep breath and approached the caskets. Billy's was about a third the length of Judy's, a dark oak to match his mother's. A few stragglers stumbled by, ran their hands over the wood, laid flowers. She recognized some of the doulas and midwives from the office, but she merely nodded at them, pursed her lips; the last thing she wanted right now was conversation. Rhonda and another woman whispered to each other as they passed Cecilia, neither of them acknowledging her presence.

Two bodies remained seated just in front of the caskets, heads hanging, sitting as still as statues. Greg and Alicia, Judy and Cliff's other two kids. They sniffled, and as Cecilia approached them, Alicia laid her head on her brother's shoulder and wept.

“Hey, kids. Holding up okay?”

They didn't answer. Alicia didn't even look at Cecilia, her shoulders popping with each sob. Greg's eyes rolled up and landed on Cecilia's face, squinted.

“I'm Cecilia…your mom's…friend.”

“Oh right. Yeah, I remember you,” Greg said. “My dad…he didn't do this. There's no way he could have done this… It was…” He leaned over, cupped his face and wept.

“I'm so sor—”

“It was Billy,” Alicia said, her face bright crimson and soaking wet. “He was a monster…he wasn't normal. He d-did this.”

Cecilia just nodded. She knew it was true, knew Cliff was just trying to protect Judy. Their screams would rattle in her mind forever, along with that ghastly squealing. She took a knee in front of the kids, placed a hand on either one of their knees.

“Did your mom or dad ever tell you where Billy came from?”

They looked at each other, both brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” Greg said.

Alicia jumped up, and Judy flinched, covered her face. She was sure the girl was preparing to attack her, to shut her up about the fairy. But Alicia ran past her, went straight for Billy's casket and kicked it over. The wooden box tipped to its side, the lid falling open.

Greg didn't move, just breathed heavily through his nose and stared at his younger brother's body. The muscles in his jaws rippled and tears continued to spill.

The funeral director got ahold of Alicia, restrained her, the girl's legs kicking, her hands contorted into claws that swiped at the air.

“He's a monster,” she said. “It's his fucking fault…
it's all his fucking fault!
”

Billy lay on his side, his arms stiff on either side of him. His eyes were wide, glassy, and they stared out of the coffin at Cecilia. His skin, though covered with powder and makeup, had the same raw chicken hue as the fairy's. And the boy was grinning, and not just a slight smile that could have happened from the tightening of the skin, but an awful rictus that took up almost half of his face. The tiny nub teeth were as black as burnt wood.

Cecilia's stomach twisted and her lungs refused to inflate. She clambered backward, knocking over chairs, her eyes pasted to the boy's face, the fairy's offspring. Her belly tingled from within, the coldness spreading through her body, turning her skin to gooseflesh, chilling the sweat that coated her.

Alicia continued to scream and kick at the air, the funeral director doing his best to hold her. She cried for her mother, for her father, and cursed Billy.

Cecilia spun and ran, powering through the pain, and she never slowed until she was in her car.

I have to get this baby out of me. I have to get it out.

But instead of driving to a clinic, instead of driving to a doctor, she found herself heading home. Some deep, potent instinct refusing to allow her to harm her baby.
My baby will be different
, she told herself.
I'll make sure of it.

The sonographer squeezed the clear jelly over Cecilia's swollen belly and rubbed it in. The cool gel made her flinch, but her eyes were on the monitor. Her heart felt ready to blow as she anticipated some mutated creature staring back at her. She imagined four eyes, wings, clawed hands.

Cecilia bit her lip, gripped the table and held her breath. Sweat trickled from her hairline and ran down the sides of her face, filling the creases of her neck.

The last time she had come, they'd shown her the heartbeat. Everything looked normal, they had said.

And she felt fine, but her nightmares were full of winged creatures and dead babies, dried placentas and Billy's smiling face.

“Where are you, little guy?” the sonographer said as she slid the wand over the hardened belly flesh. “Ah, there we go.”

Cecilia braced herself. She imagined the sonographer screaming, dropping the wand and crashing over the monitor as she ran from the room.

“Looks like you've got a little girl on the way,” the woman said. “And she looks absolutely perfect.”

“A g-girl? I'm having a daughter?” She stared at the monotone image on the screen, reached out and traced the outline of the tiny person curled up inside of her. “Judy. Her name's Judy.”

“And she's beautiful. Congratulations.”

A warm sensation filled her to the brim, and she knew immediately it was love for her baby. She studied the image, smiling, and a tear squeezed free from the corner of her eye.
My baby will be perfect,
she thought.
Not like Billy.
She saw no sign of any deformities, no resemblance to her “father”, no reason to believe her daughter would be anything but a normal little girl.

“But Billy looked like a normal child too.”

The sonographer pointed out the limbs, the head and the heart, which beat in a steady, healthy rhythm. She printed out some photos and handed them to Cecilia.

“Everything looks right on track. We'll see you in another three months, okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” Cecilia clutched the photo in her hand, smiling as she traced the contours of her daughter's face with her eyes. She could tell Judy already had her chin, kind of long and pointy, and a small round nose.

She's my daughter.
My
daughter.

After scheduling her next appointment, she made her way to the bathroom where she stood sideways in front of the mirror and admired the bulge in her belly. That cold feeling never dissipated, and nowadays, she could feel little Judy twitching, moving around in there.

Mama's gonna spoil you so bad, Judy. Just you wait and see.

She walked into her house, but Skittles wasn't there to welcome her. Since the day after the fairy's visit, the dog had not been the same. Wouldn't come anywhere near her, hid in fear anytime she was in the same room.

“Skittles, where are you?” She whistled, made kissy sounds. “Come on, honey, come to Mama. We have some celebrating to do.”

Cecilia clapped her hands as she searched the house. The Great Dane's food bowl was still full, and she found Skittles lying behind the couch. The dog had shoved the couch away from the wall so she could fit. As Cecilia approached, Skittles began to shake, her increasingly skinny body rattling against the wall.

“What's wrong with you?”

Skittles answered with a growl.

“Well you can stay back there and starve then,” Cecilia said. “We have a new member of the family now, and if you can't accept it, then there's no room for you anymore.”

Cecilia lay in bed, her head turned toward her window. She would never forget the night the fairy came to visit, and she knew there may come a day when the fairy would need to return, to help her family grow.

It was just her now. Skittles was gone. She let the Great Dane out one day, jumped in the shower, and when she came out, three of the fence boards had been torn free, claw and chew marks shredding the bottoms of them, and Skittles never came back. Cecilia would have put up flyers, would have gone out looking for the dog, but she needed her rest. For the baby.
Skittles will be fine,
she thought.
And if she has any sense, she'll come back.

The pillow under her head still had streaks of orange stains, the baby's blood never quite washing off. She pressed her cheek against it, soaking up all the cold and smiling. Her belly was ready to burst, and Judy's due date was only a week away. Her fingernail traced circles over her stomach as she spoke.

“And when you get here, we'll buy you lots of toys. As many toys as you want. We can pick a color to paint your room too.”

There was a series of kicks, and Cecilia giggled as her belly bulged with movement, as if Judy were doing flips inside of her.

“Your Mama loves you so—”

A twisting pain in her gut. She gasped, sat up, cradled her stomach. It felt like Judy had fistfuls of razor blades and was sliding them over her uterine walls.

Or maybe they're claws.

“Ahhhh…” Cecilia hopped out of bed, paced the room and breathed.
I've seen this a million times,
she told herself.
You know what to do, just calm dow—

“Ahhhh…oh god…oh please…”

The icy sensation that had filled her since the fairy's visit was gone, burned away. Now she had a stomach full of hot lava, and it swirled and splashed within her.

“Please, baby. You're hurting Mama…please, Judy.”

The pain intensified every second, and no matter what position she switched to, no matter how hard she breathed, it continued to grow, threatened to snap her spine in half.

She hurried down the hall, grabbed her car keys, and rushed toward her car. The car's headlights flashed as she unlocked it, but just as her fingers wrapped around the door handle, another agonizing surge took her, brought her to her knees. It was as if she'd drunk a gallon of gasoline and swallowed a match. She gagged and whimpered, then forced herself back to her feet and into the car.

After all the pain, after it's all said and done, it will be worth it. You'll have your baby.

“Oh Jesus Christ…oh god help me…”

She ran stop signs, flew through red lights. Every couple of seconds, a contraction from hell squeezed her, threatened to steal her consciousness. But she had to make it to the hospital, only a few more blocks.

She flew around a curve, screeching across two lanes before righting the vehicle. The Camry sideswiped a green van, slamming her driver's side into its passenger side. At the moment of impact, a hot wave of fluid rushed out of her, splashed her feet and turned the pedals slippery, soaked into her seat.