(continued from Pearls Of.....Wisdom?)
"You're pantry is infested with Buttery Sprites, but don't worry, we know how to get rid of them," Cora blurted out triumphantly. "And just for the record, I warned everyone that this was going to happen but nobody ever listens to me."
Bea, picking up on my state of total confusion, took over from there. "Let me see, how can we explain this to you" she wondered out loud, rubbing her tiny chin with her hand. After a minute or two she began again. "You've heard of pantry moths, right? You know, those little moths that sometimes make their way into peoples pantries and make pests of themselves?" Actually, I knew quite a bit about pantry moths, or so I thought, because it happened to a dear friend of mine. As I recall, they were a real pain in the neck to get rid of. She tried everything but the little buggers were relentless. Before I could share this with Bea, she continued. "Well, they aren't really moths, they're Buttery Sprites. They don't ever let humans see them. They make sure of this by taking the form of moths whenever they enter the human realm." Bea paused to be sure that I was beginning to grasp what she was saying. Once she was satisfied, she went on.
According to human folklore, Buttery Sprites are tiny fairies who, as Bea explained, have never been seen by humans. Their presence is known by missing food and by the vengeance they seek on humans who have cheated others. They are known to live in old abbeys and inns in England. They feel free to take any food not marked with a cross, especially fresh churned butter, which is where they got their name. Personally, I had never heard of Buttery Sprites and felt pretty confident that most other modern day humans hadn't either. Interestingly, if you Google them you'll get a few hits. Who knew, right?
As it turns out, the folklore surrounding Buttery Sprites was pretty accurate information a couple of hundred years ago. But, as the years passed and old inns and abbeys became fewer, troops of Buttery Sprites decided to take up residence in the pantries of humans who have fairies living with them. Unlike their ancestors who sought vengeance on humans, these sprites do so because they are upset with the fairies who live there.
You see, Buttery Sprites firmly believe that humans cannot be trusted. Therefore, if a fairy lets them self be seen by one, they put the entire fairy world in danger. So, if the Buttery Sprites happen to get wind that there are fairies living in a human home, they move into the pantry. Then they proceed to wreak havoc upon them until the fairies get so fed up that they leave, thus insuring no contact will be made. Only then, will the poor unsuspecting humans finally be rid of their 'pantry moths'. That is, of course, unless the fairies know how to fight back.
The Buttery Sprites were now in my pantry because they were quite furious with the Magic Penny Fairies for befriending me, and worse, for telling me many of the secrets of the fairy world. In the minds of the Buttery Sprites, this troop of Magic Penny Fairies and their Leprechaun friends was extremely dangerous and they were determined to put a stop to their risky behavior. "Well, that's not so bad, " I reasoned. "Cora said you know how to get rid of them, right? So let's just do it" I said, feeling a bit relieved about the whole thing. The fairies began exchanging nervous glances. That's when I realized there was more to the story. I looked directly at Lena, knowing she would not be able to look me in the eye until she told me the rest. It took approximately 2 seconds before she cracked.
"There's something else you should know," Lena confessed in a voice that was trying a bit too hard to be casual. It was clear she was choosing her words very carefully, which was beginning to make me very uneasy. "Now that you know a lot of the secrets of the fairy world, the Buttery Sprites consider you to be dangerous too. Don't worry though, they can't do you any serious harm. No fairies can, which is one of the reasons we chose you in the first place. The thing is, that isn't going to stop them from trying, which might get a bit........annoying for you until we get rid of them. If we all work together it should only take a few days." That was the second time during this conversation that the fairies told me not to worry, so naturally, panic immediately set in. I couldn't seem to manage anything more than to stare at Lena like a deer caught in the headlights. Meanwhile, dozens of questions swirled around in my head trying unsuccessfully to make their way to my mouth.
What was it about me that made all fairies unable to do me any real harm? What exactly could they do to me? What was it that the Magic Penny fairies had chosen me for? And, why do these horrible little Buttery Fairy thingies produce poop that looks like pearls of all things? Which leads to the question, do all fairies poop? And if the answer is yes, where had all the fairies living in my sewing room been doing their business for the past month? Did I even want to know? And the biggest question of all, why in the name of all that is holy, was I thinking about poop at a time like this? Is this what being hysterical feels like?
I slowly became aware of a tiny voice telling me to take deep slow breaths while six little fairies, wings fluttering like crazy, held a brown paper lunch sack over my mouth. To this day, I am completely incapable of thinking about this moment without letting out a laugh. Can you imagine what this little scene must have looked like? I'm sure at this point you're beginning to think this is nothing more than a story. Had it not happened to me I would be saying the same thing, believe me. Think about it for a minute though. Who could make this stuff up?
Anyway, the fairies correctly assessed that I had heard quite enough for the time being. They lead me to the couch to lie down, with a promise to answer all of my questions after I had rested for a bit and let what I had just been told sink in. I think I should follow the wisdom of these clever little beings and do the same for you. Go rest, we'll talk later.
Unpublished work © 2011 Laurie Konevich