Skye's Fairy House

 I started writing this story three years ago. We had recently moved to a new house and hadn't met any neighbors. There was a large black cat who liked to sit on our cinderblock fence. My then seven year old daughter, the cat lover, watched him and wished he would come down so she could make friends with him. I had an idea I'd write this story for her, wrote the first little bit but didn't know where I wanted it to go so I put it aside. I realized the other day though, that my daughter is getting past the age where she will like simple fairy stories. If I'm ever going to write something for my own kids, this could be my best idea and I'm running out of time to get it done. I resolved to finish the story, at least enough to call it a start. I haven't decided yet if I want to keep going with it or maybe turn it over to my now ten year old to finish. I guess I have more to think about.

Skye opened her eyes.  There was darkness behind her curtains, and her pink flower lamp glowed softly in the corner.  For some reason she felt she should get up and look out her window.  She pushed her blanket back and used her doll house for a stool because she was too short to see out without it.  Moving the curtain aside, Skye cupped her hands around her eyes so she could peer into the dark.   Yes, the cat was there.  The black cat, who seemed to live nearby, sat on the fence outside her window quite often.  Skye was pretty sure it wanted to be friends.  She waved a little then felt silly.  As if a cat would know what a wave meant.  However, the cat perked it’s ears up, as if it knew Skye was saying hello.  She waved again and the cat flicked it’s tail and seemed to nod it’s head.  

    “It’s saying hello to me, too!”  Skye thought.  She giggled and waved again.  The cat stood and arched it’s back just a bit, the way cats do when they want to rub against you.  

    Skye laughed some more and whispered “Hi pretty kitty!”.  The cat took a few steps, then turned and walked back, still looking for all the world as if it wanted Skye to pet it.  It looked directly into her eyes and laid down on the fence, gazing serenely at her.  
    “What are you doing, you funny cat” Skye said softly.  She wondered what the cat was thinking.  It was the middle of the night, and it seemed to want to play.  “I can’t play right now kitty.  You’ll have to come back tomorrow,” she said.  

    The cat yawned widely, twitched an ear at her and closed it’s eyes, as if it understood it was time to sleep.  Skye watched the cat for a few seconds, but her room was cold and she wanted to get back under her covers.  She stepped down from her dollhouse and curled back up in her bed.  She smiled to herself.  She knew the cat would be back.  She wanted to be it’s friend, too.

The next morning,  Skye was pouring herself a cup of juice when she saw the cat again.  This time it was sitting on the back fence, twitching its tail in the morning sun.  It was looking through the window, straight at her.  She gave a little wave.  The cat twitched its ear.  

“I’m imagining things.  The cat isn’t communicating with me,” Skye thought.  She wasn’t convinced though.  She wanted to the cat to be there for her, to talk to her.  

She fetched her slippers and took her cup of juice outside.  The air was cold but Skye stepped across the crusted, frozen snow toward the cat.  When she stopped by the fence and looked up at it, the cat continued to gaze at her.  

“Good morning,” Skye said.  

The cat blinked.  “Good morning,” it said.

Skye gave a startled little jump, almost dropped her juice.  

“You can talk?!?!” she cried.

“No,” said the cat.  “I can think.  I am telepathic.  That means I communicate through thought.”

“I’m not telepathic,” squeaked Skye.  “I don’t communicate through thought!”

“You do with me,” said the cat.  He lowered his chin to rest on the fence, but continued to gaze at Skye.

“My name is Smoke.  I live next door and I’ve been watching you.” his voice filled Skye’s brain.

“How do you do that?” Skye’s voice trembled.  Her hand holding the juice shook.  

“It is just what I do” said Smoke.  This time the words sounded like a purr in Skye’s ears, but her brain heard his words.  “I think all cats can do it.”

“Mine can’t!” Skye said breathlessly.  But then she wondered, could they and she had just never listened properly?

“Well, I haven’t met your cats so I can’t say one way or another if they can or cannot.  I can.  I did not mean to startle you, but I do need your help.”

“My help? What do you mean?” Skye was confused.

“I have a friend, actually, who needs your help.  I have been watching your whole family, to be honest, and have decided you are the one we need.”

Skye goggled at him.  She was feeling overwhelmed.  She knew he had been watching her but learning he was telepathic and wanted more than to be friendly was a lot to take in.

When she didn’t say anything, Smoke continued, “Do you remember the fairy house you and your little friend built in the summer?”

Skye nodded.

“You did a very nice job with it.  The silk flowers you wove through the sticks were a lovely touch.” Smoke’s words sounded like purrs again.

Skye nodded again.  She didn’t know what to say.  She and her friend Wynn had spent an afternoon building fairy houses from sticks and mud, bits of grass, berries and her mom’s fake flowers but Wynn hadn’t been able to come back to play before school started and Skye hadn’t thought of the houses much without her.

Smoke stood on the fence and stretched leisurely, the way cats do.  Skye continued to just stare at him.  She didn’t know what to say.  

Smoke jumped to the ground next to her.  He looked up and purred, “Please follow me.”

Skye crunched after him to the corner of the yard where the fairy houses were.  They were under two huge blue spruce trees.  They had been pruned so you could walk under them and be protected from the weather.  The fairy houses were still there, still next to the tree trunks, still in good shape.  The fall rains and winter snow hadn’t damaged them at all.

Smoke rubbed his cheek against one, purring very loudly.

“Come out,” he purred.  “I brought her.”

Skye really did drop her cup of juice when she saw who Smoke was talking to.

A tiny fairy had stepped out of the house.  She was wrapped in what looked like a quilt made of leaves.  Her feet were encased in tiny leaf boots.  She had bright yellow hair that poofed out in tight curls.  She looked very, very cold.  

Skye dropped to her knees.  “Who are you?” she whispered.

The fairy stared with giant eyes at Smoke first, then up at Skye.  

“Skye,” Smoke purred.  “This is Fern.  She’s a summer fairy.  She is not supposed to be here now, but she liked your house so well she didn’t want to leave when summer ended.  She thought the house would keep her warm, but it is not warm enough.  She is suffering.”

At this, Fern stepped toward Smoke, who laid down and let her snuggle against his warm fur.  She tucked herself between his hind leg and stomach, so Skye could only see her head.  

Skye regained a bit of sense and said, “Hello Fern.  I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Fern still only looked at Skye with wide eyes.  She had stopped shivering thanks to Smoke’s warmth, but the poor thing was clearly still afraid.

“It’s okay,” Skye tried to reassure her.  “I’m the girl who built your house.  I’ve always wanted to meet a real fairy.  I wouldn’t hurt you at all.”
Fern blinked.  Smoke purred.  The three of them stayed that way for a few moments before Skye realized how cold she was, too.  It was winter after all, and she was wearing only flannel pajamas and fluffy slippers.  

“Could we go into my house?  Its warm there, and I could make sure my cats didn’t bother either of you,” Skye said.

“Oh no, I would not go into your house,” Smoke shook his head.  “My people would not like it if I went in your house.”

Fern also silently shook her head, looking even more afraid than before.
“Well I need to get my clothes and coat.  I’ll be right back.”

Skye ran to the house, straight to her room where she pulled on jeans and a sweater.

“There’s a FAIRY in my backyard!” she said to herself. “A fairy AND a talking cat!!!”

She pulled her sock drawer open as her cat Fluffy came into the room.  He rubbed against her.  She picked him up and looked into his eyes.  

“Can you talk to me?” she asked.
He purred.

“Really, can you talk to me, with your thoughts?”

Fluffy purred louder, he blinked slowly.  
“Never mind,” she said, and set him on the floor.  She reached for her socks and Fluffy bumped his cheek against her foot.

She hurriedly slipped on her socks, then her boots.  She grabbed her coat and flew to the back door.  Skye stopped suddenly and changed direction.  She scurried down the basement stairs and dug into her dad’s golf bag.  Snatching a little plastic packet, she went back up the stairs two at a time, knowing full well she was being too noisy for the early time of day, but needing to get back to Smoke and Fern.  

They were still under the trees, next to the fairy houses.  

“I brought you something,” she said breathlessly.

Skye held out her hands, showing the little packet.  

“What is that?” Smoke asked as Skye tore it open.

“Hand warmers,” Skye said, shaking two little cloth bags from the plastic.  “Watch this.”

She took one little bag and rubbed it roughly between her palms.  

“There.  Feel this.”  She held it toward Smoke and Fern.

Smoke touched his nose to it and pulled back in surprise.

“It’s warm!” he exclaimed.  Fern tentatively held a hand out but did not touch the cloth.

“It’s some sort of chemical reaction.  My dad puts them in his pockets when he golfs in the cold. They keep his hands warm for hours.  We could put one in Fern’s house.  It would be her heater!”  Skye felt like a genius.

Fern was slowly reaching toward the warm little bundle.  She touched it, jerked her hand away, but reached out again.  Soon she had her whole hand resting on it.  Smoke purred on.  

Fern moved her hand away again, but not out of fear.  She very softly said “It’s so hot.”

“Yes, it gets very hot at first, but it will slowly get cooler and cooler,” Skye told her.  

“How long does it last?” asked Smoke.

Skye picked up the package and read “Six to eight hours.”

“So she would need at least two every day.  I’m sure your dad would notice if you used all his hand warmers,” Smoke pointed out.  “Besides, you would have to remember to come out and open them for us.”
“You’re right.  It’s not a good solution for the whole winter, but it could work until we figure something else out, couldn’t it?” Skye was a little disappointed to have Smoke find the ways her plan wouldn’t work.

“Could I have this one?” Fern’s gentle voice was sweet in Skye’s ears.  

“Of course you can have it!” Skye tried to make her voice soft like Fern’s.  She didn’t want to frighten her again.  “Would you like me to put it in your house?”

Fern turned her big green eyes back to Skye and nodded.  

Skye set the hand warmer inside the little house and patted it smooth.  

“There.  I hope it will warm your house today.”

Fern cautiously stepped back into the house.  She walked around the warmer, holding her hands toward it.  Skye peeked through the door and grinned.  Fern was settling herself on the floor, a little smile on her face.

“This is wonderful,” Fern said, so quietly Skye could barely hear.

Skye sat up and looked at Smoke.

“I need to build her a door.  It would help keep her warm”
“Good idea,” said Smoke.  “Anything will help.”

“Skye!  What are you doing out there?”
Skye’s mom was standing on the patio, cup of coffee in her hand.
“I met the neighbor’s cat Mom!” Skye called.  
To Smoke and Fern she said “I’d better go in now.  I’ll come back soon though.  I’ll build a door for you Fern.  Then we’ll figure out how to keep you warm all the time.”