Darcey O'Brien Conts.

Darcy O'brien Cont.

“What kind of punishment?”

“We'd be shunned by the other fairies for a certain period of time is one form of punishment. Or, our interpreting privileges would be revoked or we may be grounded from flight. It's sort of a temporary banishment from things we truly love.”

“Like a timeout?”

Darcy laughed softly. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, speaking of timeouts, it's almost time in,” Rebecca said, as she thought about the time. “I have to get back downstairs and help serve the pie. Will I see you later?”

“Sure, I can be here.” Darcy then faded from sight in the mirror.

Rebecca re-joined her family and relatives for pie and laughter and some egg nog to `kick off the Christmas season', as her mother puts it. Later, when all the company left, `Miracle on 34th Street', the 1947 version, was placed into the VCR, another tradition to herald in the festive holidays. Every so often, Rebecca thought contemplatively, we all need to be convinced about the existence of Santa Claus…and of fairies.

********************************************************************************************

When the movie ended, Rebecca retreated to her bedroom, donned her flannel pajamas, then quickly flossed, brushed her teeth and washed her face. She sat on the edge of the bed, the side that faced the dresser mirror, and closed her eyes in fierce concentration to summon the fairy, Darcy. In less than two shakes, Darcy appeared, as if by magic.

“That's good,” Darcy remarked. “I could feel your thoughts pulling at me, as though someone was tugging at my sleeve.”

“Yes, really…and that's good,” said the fairy. “That way, you can communicate with me mentally when someone else is around; it wouldn't do for you to be seen talking to yourself in the mirror, now would it?”

“But, won't others see you?”

“No, not at all.”

“There is someone special,” the young girl said as she looked contemplatively at her reflection and that of one of the little Folke.

“Tell me about it.”

“Okay,” Rebecca cried excitedly. “Well, there's this boy named Billy in a couple of my classes. He's cute, but he's really, really shy. He just came here from St. Stephen's Catholic school. I guess his parents felt he would get a better education in the public school; at least, that's what I heard.”

“Have you ever talked to him?”

“I really want to, but I get so flustered, I'm afraid to open my mouth,” Rebecca admitted openly. “I know I'll just say something stupid. You know, I'd like, fumble around for the right thing to say, then say the wrong thing anyway.”

“Oh, don't be so hard on yourself,” Darcy offered encouragingly. “Has he ever said anything to you?”

“He said `Hi' three times to me,” Rebecca said. “Once in science class, another time near my locker and then he said `Hi' to me in the cafeteria.”

Ah, Darcy thought, all the counting proves a lot of interest. “So, you want me to scout around for you, is that it?”

“Billy won't know anything, will he?

“Not a thing.” Darcy explained, “It's your dream.”

“Ok, if I'm holding a yo-yo in my right hand, that will be your signal.”

********************************************************************************************

That night, Rebecca slept peacefully and awoke the next morning to complete serenity. There were no alarms on the morning after Thanksgiving and no rushing to get breakfast - her mom needed somewhat of a respite after toiling in the kitchen for most of the holiday morning the previous day. Of course, Sara will probably start yelping over an empty stomach or a full diaper, sooner rather than later.

Preparations for the coming season were being made all weekend. Christmas shopping was even begun and naturally Rebecca assumed her baby-sitting duties. She'd also talked to friends on the phone, surfed the web, scolded her playful, but sometimes mischievous brothers and helped make some of the pizzelle cookies that could be stored (out of sight and temptation of Todd, Michael and Daddy, of course) in the garage. Men! Don't they ever grow up? I'll bet Billy's not like that. Yeah, right!

“Offer him a cookie, one of your Oreo's you take to eat with your lunch,” Darcy instructed on Sunday night, just before bed. “Just sit down beside him in the cafeteria and when he finishes eating, offer him an Oreo.”

“Just like that?” Rebecca asked, skeptically. “That's the best advice you can give me?”

The cute little fairy looked up in thought for, at most, two seconds. “Yep. It'll work.”

“Okay. I guess it won't hurt to give it a shot.”

Morning classes dragged as though a ball and chain were attached to them. Today of all days, breaking sentences down into meaningful definitions and explanations seemed too tedious. And working with numbers to the nth power took on the appearance of otherworldly. Can't we move this along today, people? I'm getting hungry.

“Would you like an Oreo?” Rebecca offered timidly, seemingly out of the blue, since that was the first attempt at conversation during the entire lunch break after finding a truckload of courage to find a way to sit beside Billy. He usually sat among most of the guys, though he really wasn't attached to any one group or clique. She felt the skin burning on her pre-teen face and prayed that that didn't spur on an immediate outgrowth of hair on her chin like `Great Aunt Roberta has'. Oh boy, I hope I don't smell like garlic, either.

Billy turned to look at her, then turned his head 180 degrees to the left to see whom she may have been speaking to. When he realized that it was he that was the target of her offer, he smiled demurely and bit his lower lip. He'd wanted to talk to her in the worst way - he even went out of his way three times to say hi - but this time, he was sort of caught unawares. `Take a chance, Bill. Don't you want to get past that Billy stage?' “Gee, thanks,” he said, while holding his breath. `Gee, thanks'…how lame. He wished he could try that again to make him sound more…what? Mature? Sure of himself? Less like a dork, is more like it.

“And you're Billy.”

“No, it's…well, it's Bill now.”

“Good,” Rebecca said sweetly. “I'm glad.”

They talked as if walking on a rocky surface, but each could actually feel that the going would be much smoother after this initial hurdle. In fact, they looked for each other the next day in the crowded cafeteria. Rebecca's friends even kept their polite distances, but between classes, they pressured her for the full scoop. What's going on here? You go, girl!

********************************************************************************************

At Tuesday's lunch, Bill offered her a homemade oatmeal cookie with raisins.

“I love oatmeal cookies!” She clapped her hands gleefully. Truth be told, she wasn't very fond of them, especially since Aunt Roberta (chinny-chin-chin) always made rock-hard oatmeal cookies for the holidays. Todd and Michael invariably took them outside and used them for cow chips or Frisbees or whatever; anything to throw and hope they didn't come back. However, Rebecca found that Bill's mother made a soft and tasty cookie, much more to her liking.

Each evening, she updated Darcy in the mirror of the progress she was making. Darcy smiled knowingly and felt genuine joy for the smitten young girl. Well, in just a few short years, Darcy thought, she'll be passing into womanhood. On Friday, Rebecca really had good news to impart.

“Guess what?” She didn't even try to mask her newsworthy exuberance. “Bill is first and last on my dance card for the 6th grade Winter Dance on the Friday before Christmas. Isn't that great?!”

“Oh, that's wonderful, Rebecca,” Darcy said.

“You see, we're only allowed to dance with a person two times so everyone gets a chance,” Rebecca explained. “So, Bill asked if I would have his first and last dance. And since we're not supposed to go as dates or anything - everyone says we're all too young - this is the next best thing.”

“I'm so happy for you.”

“And it's all thanks to you, Darcy,” Rebecca said.

“But I really didn't do anything,” remarked Darcy.

“Yes, you did,” Rebecca replied. “If it wasn't for you, I would have never known how to approach Bill.”

“Rebecca, Honey,” Darcy started somewhat slowly, “I'm, really happy for you, really I am, but I have something to say.”

Rebecca's excitement was somewhat tempered. This didn't sound good, not good at all. Nearly every time someone says that they have something to say, it's bad news.

“It's time for me to move on now.”

“But I don't want you to go.”

“There are other dreams, other intrigues I have to witness and see,” Darcy said fondly. “Like you, I have to grow yet. But I'll never be far from you.”

Rebecca wanted to touch her new friend, to feel the reality of friendship that they'd forged in a little more than a week. Then her eyes misted over and she started to cry. “You'll leave me and I'll never see you again.”

“No, no, that's not true,” Darcy said. “We'll see each other again.”

“I Promise.” Then with a heartbreaking smile and a tentative wave, Darcy faded from the mirror.

****************************************************

Sir Robert and I would love to hear from you click on the castle.

******************************

This story has been posted for your reading pleasure.

Faejolee's Fairylands | home


	Darcy O'brien Cont. “What kind of punishment?” “We'd be shunned by the other fairies for a certain period of time is one form of punishment. Or, our interpreting privileges would be revoked or we may be grounded from flight. It's sort of a temporary banishment from things we truly love.” “Like a timeout?” Darcy laughed softly. “Yeah, something like that.” “Well, speaking of timeouts, it's almost time in,” Rebecca said, as she thought about the time. “I have to get back downstairs and help serve the pie. Will I see you later?” “Sure, I can be here.” Darcy then faded from sight in the mirror. Rebecca re-joined her family and relatives for pie and laughter and some egg nog to `kick off the Christmas season', as her mother puts it. Later, when all the company left, `Miracle on 34th Street', the 1947 version, was placed into the VCR, another tradition to herald in the festive holidays. Every so often, Rebecca thought contemplatively, we all need to be convinced about the existence of Santa Claus…and of fairies. ****************************************************************************************** When the movie ended, Rebecca retreated to her bedroom, donned her flannel pajamas, then quickly flossed, brushed her teeth and washed her face. She sat on the edge of the bed, the side that faced the dresser mirror, and closed her eyes in fierce concentration to summon the fairy, Darcy. In less than two shakes, Darcy appeared, as if by magic. “That's good,” Darcy remarked. “I could feel your thoughts pulling at me, as though someone was tugging at my sleeve.” “Really?” “Yes, really…and that's good,” said the fairy. “That way, you can communicate with me mentally when someone else is around; it wouldn't do for you to be seen talking to yourself in the mirror, now would it?” “But, won't others see you?” “No, not at all.” “There is someone special,” the young girl said as she looked contemplatively at her reflection and that of one of the little Folke. “Tell me about it.” “Okay,” Rebecca cried excitedly. “Well, there's this boy named Billy in a couple of my classes. He's cute, but he's really, really shy. He just came here from St. Stephen's Catholic school. I guess his parents felt he would get a better education in the public school; at least, that's what I heard.” “Have you ever talked to him?” “I really want to, but I get so flustered, I'm afraid to open my mouth,” Rebecca admitted openly. “I know I'll just say something stupid. You know, I'd like, fumble around for the right thing to say, then say the wrong thing anyway.” “Oh, don't be so hard on yourself,” Darcy offered encouragingly. “Has he ever said anything to you?” “He said `Hi' three times to me,” Rebecca said. “Once in science class, another time near my locker and then he said `Hi' to me in the cafeteria.” Ah, Darcy thought, all the counting proves a lot of interest. “So, you want me to scout around for you, is that it?” “Billy won't know anything, will he? “Not a thing.” Darcy explained, “It's your dream.” “Ok, if I'm holding a yo-yo in my right hand, that will be your signal.” “All right.” **************************************************************************************** That night, Rebecca slept peacefully and awoke the next morning to complete serenity. There were no alarms on the morning after Thanksgiving and no rushing to get breakfast - her mom needed somewhat of a respite after toiling in the kitchen for most of the holiday morning the previous day. Of course, Sara will probably start yelping over an empty stomach or a full diaper, sooner rather than later. Preparations for the coming season were being made all weekend. Christmas shopping was even begun and naturally Rebecca assumed her baby-sitting duties. She'd also talked to friends on the phone, surfed the web, scolded her playful, but sometimes mischievous brothers and helped make some of the pizzelle cookies that could be stored (out of sight and temptation of Todd, Michael and Daddy, of course) in the garage. Men! Don't they ever grow up? I'll bet Billy's not like that. Yeah, right! “Offer him a cookie, one of your Oreo's you take to eat with your lunch,” Darcy instructed on Sunday night, just before bed. “Just sit down beside him in the cafeteria and when he finishes eating, offer him an Oreo.” “Just like that?” Rebecca asked, skeptically. “That's the best advice you can give me?” The cute little fairy looked up in thought for, at most, two seconds. “Yep. It'll work.” “Okay. I guess it won't hurt to give it a shot.” Morning classes dragged as though a ball and chain were attached to them. Today of all days, breaking sentences down into meaningful definitions and explanations seemed too tedious. And working with numbers to the nth power took on the appearance of otherworldly. Can't we move this along today, people? I'm getting hungry. “Would you like an Oreo?” Rebecca offered timidly, seemingly out of the blue, since that was the first attempt at conversation during the entire lunch break after finding a truckload of courage to find a way to sit beside Billy. He usually sat among most of the guys, though he really wasn't attached to any one group or clique. She felt the skin burning on her pre-teen face and prayed that that didn't spur on an immediate outgrowth of hair on her chin like `Great Aunt Roberta has'. Oh boy, I hope I don't smell like garlic, either. Billy turned to look at her, then turned his head 180 degrees to the left to see whom she may have been speaking to. When he realized that it was he that was the target of her offer, he smiled demurely and bit his lower lip. He'd wanted to talk to her in the worst way - he even went out of his way three times to say hi - but this time, he was sort of caught unawares. `Take a chance, Bill. Don't you want to get past that Billy stage?' “Gee, thanks,” he said, while holding his breath. `Gee, thanks'…how lame. He wished he could try that again to make him sound more…what? Mature? Sure of himself? Less like a dork, is more like it. “I'm Rebecca.” “I know.” “And you're Billy.” “No, it's…well, it's Bill now.” “Good,” Rebecca said sweetly. “I'm glad.” They talked as if walking on a rocky surface, but each could actually feel that the going would be much smoother after this initial hurdle. In fact, they looked for each other the next day in the crowded cafeteria. Rebecca's friends even kept their polite distances, but between classes, they pressured her for the full scoop. What's going on here? You go, girl! **************************************************************************************** At Tuesday's lunch, Bill offered her a homemade oatmeal cookie with raisins. “I love oatmeal cookies!” She clapped her hands gleefully. Truth be told, she wasn't very fond of them, especially since Aunt Roberta (chinny-chin-chin) always made rock-hard oatmeal cookies for the holidays. Todd and Michael invariably took them outside and used them for cow chips or Frisbees or whatever; anything to throw and hope they didn't come back. However, Rebecca found that Bill's mother made a soft and tasty cookie, much more to her liking. Each evening, she updated Darcy in the mirror of the progress she was making. Darcy smiled knowingly and felt genuine joy for the smitten young girl. Well, in just a few short years, Darcy thought, she'll be passing into womanhood. On Friday, Rebecca really had good news to impart. “Guess what?” She didn't even try to mask her newsworthy exuberance. “Bill is first and last on my dance card for the 6th grade Winter Dance on the Friday before Christmas. Isn't that great?!” “Oh, that's wonderful, Rebecca,” Darcy said. “You see, we're only allowed to dance with a person two times so everyone gets a chance,” Rebecca explained. “So, Bill asked if I would have his first and last dance. And since we're not supposed to go as dates or anything - everyone says we're all too young - this is the next best thing.” “I'm so happy for you.” “And it's all thanks to you, Darcy,” Rebecca said. “But I really didn't do anything,” remarked Darcy. “Yes, you did,” Rebecca replied. “If it wasn't for you, I would have never known how to approach Bill.” “Rebecca, Honey,” Darcy started somewhat slowly, “I'm, really happy for you, really I am, but I have something to say.” Rebecca's excitement was somewhat tempered. This didn't sound good, not good at all. Nearly every time someone says that they have something to say, it's bad news. “It's time for me to move on now.” “But I don't want you to go.” “There are other dreams, other intrigues I have to witness and see,” Darcy said fondly. “Like you, I have to grow yet. But I'll never be far from you.” Rebecca wanted to touch her new friend, to feel the reality of friendship that they'd forged in a little more than a week. Then her eyes misted over and she started to cry. “You'll leave me and I'll never see you again.” “No, no, that's not true,” Darcy said. “We'll see each other again.” “Promise?” “I Promise.” Then with a heartbreaking smile and a tentative wave, Darcy faded from the mirror. The End ************************************************ Sir Robert and I would love to hear from you click on the castle. ************************** This story has been posted for your reading pleasure. 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