An Ordinary Fairy by John Osborne Read Free Book Online Page B

at Shadow still standing on the ledge. The dog was looking directly toward Noah with his nose in the air, sniffing, ears erect. As he watched, Shadow’s tail drooped. He seemed about to bark.
    Don’t!
    Willow pulled herself erect in the water, her eyes scanning the banks of the pond. She tilted her head, listening. Noah held his breath as her gaze swept over his position. Satisfied, she whistled to Shadow and motioned for him to join her, which he did, hitting the water with a tremendous splash. That moment would have been perfect for Noah to turn tail and run, but instead he watched this mysterious woman and her dog paddle about beside the ledge. Each ball of light dissipated and vanished.
    Damn! The camera auto shutoff! It can wake the dead.
    How did I set the timer? For ten minutes? Twenty?
    Please, Goddess, let it be twenty.
    Willow swam a few more minutes, then climbed out and walked up the narrow rock path to the ledge, Shadow following close behind. Her wings appeared to be like a dragonfly’s, but hung loose down her back, spread about half open. They were transparent and glistened with water droplets. Willow spoke to Shadow while they climbed, words Noah couldn’t catch. As soon as they reached the ledge, the big dog again shook nose to tail, showering Willow.
    “Two can play that game,” she said, and she vibrated her wings for a few seconds, showering the dog in turn. He barked, and her sweet laughter floated across the water.
    Noah smiled at their antics and fought off a giggle. Willow picked up the robe and dried her face and hair as she left, leaving her body and wings to dry in the air. She showed no discomfort, despite the fifty-degree air temperature, and could have been out swimming on a summer day for all she appeared to care. She turned toward the path. Shadow as usual bounded ahead.
    Noah found her rear view quite charming … even with wings.
    I wish you would stay longer .
    At that moment, Willow stopped and turned halfway towards the pond, listening again, head inclined. Her wings rose, twitching slightly. After a few seconds, she turned away and disappeared into the trees. Her voice rose in singing for a few seconds then all sign of her faded. The birds left, the water stilled, and the pond returned to slumber. Noah’s buoyant heart sank into shadow as well.
    Five seconds later, the camera shut off with a whir and a beep.
     
    She has wings!
    Noah stumbled through the woods. He had packed the equipment in record time, taking no pictures, anxious to get away from the pond, blood rushing to his head. Leaves rustled under his feet, silencing the already lazy crickets. Gathering gloom hid the trail from his searching eyes. The camera bag caught in the brush and wrenched his shoulder. An unseen root jammed his toe and he fell forward, landing on hands and knees. He picked himself up and went on, cursing the root, the trail, the mud on his hands, and the dark.
    Dragonfly wings!
    The air changed. Soft aromas of wet leaves and wood became the tang of fresh turned earth. He burst into the open at the plowed field where he had parked the truck. It sat at the trailhead to the north. Fleeing the pond, he’d gone astray and followed the wrong path. He trotted along the strip of grass between muddy fields and dense woods. Cold wind blew in his face; he snugged his zipper, and pulled his ball cap down tighter.
    She can fly!
    He fished the keys from his pocket, unlocked the truck door and swung it open then paused to catch his breath. Well, he’d gotten his wish. He’d seen Willow … more of her than he had hoped.
    Louie’s hints were mysterious, but this—
    Noah turned the truck around and bounced along the uneven ground to the county road. Mud flew off the tires as he accelerated away from the field.
    For the first time in a life of talking to himself, Noah was speechless.

 
    Four
     
    N oah unlocked the door to Number 13, slammed it open and stalked over to the picture of Willow.
    “Who the hell are