Off to Seek a Wizard... -10- Scary, Hairy, Fairy, Curse by Erin Halfelven

 
"There are fairies of the wood and fairies of the river and fairies of the mountain," said Charles Wood. "Are you a mud fairy?"

"No, I'm not," I said. This conversation was making me grumpy, not to mention loony. "I just fell into this mudhole and I can't get out."

"Are you sure you're a fairy?" asked the not-bear. I supposed I could call him Chuck, even though he still sounded like George.

"No, I"m not sure." I snapped. I'd been called that often enough, all the way back to kindergarten and I hadn't much liked it at any time.

"How can you not be sure?" he asked, sounding reasonable. "Just look at you! Besides the mud, I mean. Oh," he nodded, "you're definitely a fairy. I think."

He came closer and I looked at his teeth again. Not threatening in the least, for all their size. If he weren't almost two feet taller than me --or me two inches shorter than him-- he would have looked a lot like a child's plush toy, some Muppetish cartoony creature with an adorable name.

"I'm just not. And it's not very polite to call someone a fairy unless they tell you, that yes, they are one. Now are you going to help me out of this mudhole? I only fell in because you scared me." Asking for a favor always gets a better response with a little guilt for sauce. Well, maybe not, but nearly everyone does it that way.

"I scared you?" he seemed astonished.

"Yes, you came up and I turned and there you were just as big and hairy as all daylight! I thought you were a bear."

He looked up as if examining the daylight for hirsuteness. Something 'as all daylight' was another of my grandfather's sayings, I don't know why they pop out at the oddest times.

"Just come over and pull me out, please?" I begged when Chuck hadn't moved closer in a reasonable time.

He ambled toward me. He looked nervous, but I couldn't understand why. It's not as if I had teeth the size of a tall latte sticking out of my face. "I don't see why you don't just fly out of there."

I rolled my eyes. "My wings are all muddy, I can't get any lift!" I said. "Please, please, please help me?" I hated to ask for help from J. Random Rodent but I wasn't going anywhere without a little assistance.

The marmot reached the mud puddle and with one fastidious paw --if he had had a pinkie, it would have been raised-- and hardly any effort, he simply reached in and scooped me onto the dry grass. I gasped. He shook a bit of mud off his claw.

"You're so strong," I gushed.

"What does that mean?" he asked, nervously. "Does helping you out of the mud count as a rescue?"

"Oh yes," I said. "Thank you." I tugged at some grass blades, all of which were three or four inches across, but none of them would break. So I just sat there and used some of the taller ones to wipe as much mud off me as I could. My bra and panties were encrusted with the stuff and where was I going to find a laundry for them? And what would I be wearing while they went spinny in the dryer?

Chuck continued to hover while I tried to clean myself off. "I can't stand waiting!" he exclaimed. "Boon or bane?"

"Pardon?" I said. All I could think of was the frontiersman in that song or the guy in the Batman comic.

He jittered from paw to paw then sat up and covered his face. "Everyone knows that if you rescue a fairy she will grant you either boon or bane," he said from behind his hands. "So which is it? Am I cursed? Oh, I don't want to be cursed, I'm sure my family doesn't want me to be cursed. My brothers and sisters and my poor sweet mother, it would just break her heart. Oh, please, Princess Stephanie, don't turn me into a frog! I don't want to croak!"

I stood there with my mouth hanging open and stared at him.