Fairy Hunting

“Jon!” Richie yelled after his friend. Catching up to him in four strides, he clamped a rough hand down on his best friend’s shoulder.

“Rich, you have to see it,” was all he said, shaking off his friend.

In the office, Jon turned on his computer and opened a folder called “Weird Shit”. Richie grinned at Jon’s filing system. Jon was pretty much a call-it-like-he-sees-it kind of guy. He clicked on a file in there, and an image of the circle of flowers they just left filled the screen. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about the picture.

“I don’t get it,” Richie said.

“Look, man,” Jon said, exasperatedly pointing at the screen. “Right here. Open your fucking eyes.”

Richie bent at the waist and peered intently at the screen. He supposed he did see something.

“It sorta looks like a foot.” Richie straightened. “You dragged my ass over here to look at a footprint in the grass? Bro, you are losing it.”

“Stick with me on this,” Jon said. “Last night, there were two women in my yard. They were standing right there in that damned circle of flowers.” Jon went on to tell Richie about the women appearing and disappearing in front of his eyes. He told Richie about the woman who changed herself into a little fairy.

“Fairy?” Richie’s eyes went wide. “Like Tinkerbell and that shit?”

Jon laughed. “Yeah, like that, right down to the little green loincloth bikini.” Jon got up and started to pace, pushing a hand through his thick hair. “Damn, man, I’ve never been so fucking confused in my entire life – and you lived through the 80’s with me. I woke up this morning not knowing whether I dreamed that shit up or not. Then I found the footprint. So not.”

Richie sat hard on the chair. “Holy shit. Are you sure you didn't just have some a girl over here and way too much to drink?”

Jon shot a scathing look at his friend. "That's your department, not mine. No, there were no invited guests here last night."

"So this shit is for real?" Richie didn't even bat an eye at Jon's rejoinder. He knew his best friend was right about Richie's dating habits.

“Yeah, this shit is for real. And that’s not even all of it.” Warily, Richie cocked an eyebrow, so Jon continued. “One of them, Fiona, said --- ”

“Wait a minute. Christ, they have NAMES?” Richie stood. “Man, I want to believe you. Really, I do, but...”

“Rich, of course they have names. What, you think they’re gonna be called ‘Fairy Number 832’ or something?” Jon shook his head.

“Man, I have no damned iDEA what in the hell, uh they would be called.” Richie couldn’t bring himself to say the word again.

Jon flapped a hand at his friend. “All we have to do is catch them, or summon them. That’s what I was looking up. Then you’ll see.”

“You’re making this shit up, man.”

“You know me, man, I don’t make shit up unless it’s part of some grand joke or something.” Jon stood directly in front of Richie, and bent over so they were practically nose-to-nose. “Look at my face, really look, and tell me if you think I’m fucking joking.”

Richie peered into cloudy blue eyes that were usually clear as day. This clearly was bothering him, real or not. Richie sighed and pushed at Jon. “Get out of my face, man, your breath stinks.” He stood and walked to the windows, flipping open his phone as he went.

“What are you doing?” Jon asked.

“If we’re spending the day summoning fairies,” Richie rolled his eyes, “I’m canceling on Elena tonight. You’re gonna need me.” He smiled wryly. “She can make footprints on my grass another night.”

After coffee, for Richie insisted on coffee, the two men went out into the yard. “What do we do?” Richie asked.

“One site I saw said that fairies sometimes disguise themselves as toads, butterflies, rabbits, whatever takes their fancy. We look for frogs and stuff.”

“Fucking insane,” Richie muttered, but joined Jon in looking in the grass, along the flowerbeds, and at the treeline for toads.

After an hour of fruitless searching, Jon called out, “Got one!”

Richie joined Jon and they looked at the small brown toad. It eyeballed them like it wasn’t sure they were for real. “Well,” Richie said, “Now what?”

Jon shrugged and shook the toad a little. “Fiona, if that is you, show yourself.”

Richie couldn’t hide the snicker. “Man, I’m sorry, but that’s fucked up right there.”

“Shut up,” Jon said. He peered at the toad’s eyes again. “No, I don’t see anything in there but frog.” Disgusted, he bent to let the creature jump gratefully from his hand. Both men watched as it hopped away.

“Well, that was fun,” Richie said. “Now what? And if you have me chasing damned butterflies around your damned yard, I will shoot you.”

The look on Jon’s face told him that was exactly what he was going to suggest. “Uh, well, we could try a summoning poem.”

Richie thought for a moment. “Do we make one up? ‘As I stand here in the grass, c’mon fairies, show your ass’?” He laughed at his own wit.

Jon chuckled. “Nice, Rich. No. Not quite.” He took a piece of paper out of his pocket. The men peered in to read:

Richie looked at Jon. “You have GOT to be kidding me. That shit ain't even real words! Dude, besides you don’t have a cat!”

“Shit. Well, we gotta know someone who has one.” Jon started pacing. “Dammit, man, you HAVE to have seen a cat a time or two in your life, where do they sit?”

“How the fuck do I know? On their ass?”

“ENOUGH!” a laughing woman’s voice called out from behind them.

Jon and Richie whirled around to face a raven-haired beauty with flashing violet eyes. “You,” Jon said.

“Aye, me,” Morganna answered smiling widely.


Authors' Note: The summoning poem is not ours. It can be found in "Lady Cottington's Pressed Fairy Book" by Terry Jones.