Happy too

From the bottom of the stairs I couldn’t see her, but I could clearly hear her say, “Parlez-vous Francias....Parlez-vous Francias?” My eyes searched for the young female voice reminiscent of my sister, but then again, unknown to me, because the foreign words spoken couldn’t possibly be her own. Was there a stranger in my house?

For a moment, the drafty walls closed in on my five year old self and my feety pajamas steadfastly held me to the first step. Gripping the newel post as if it were my protector, it never entered my five year old mind to call out for help. No one would come. All the lights in the house were out, but the full moon gave off enough light through the second floor landing window for me to see the sudden appearance of either a debutante or a spirit like figure looking down upon me.

She wore a golden pashmina scarf, partially covering her angelic face, and her wavy auburn hair was in a lose bun. Her arms were laden with bracelets, too many to count, and her dress was made of shimmering ivory lace, flowing down to the floor, and covering the top step.

“Come to me,” she said, in the same reminiscent voice, this time in English, and without fear, I obeyed her command. This being did not come to hurt me and the intrigue was irresistible. When I reached the top step, she pulled her dress aside, wrapped my hand gently in hers and lead me to my bed, sweetly patting my blanket, motioning me to lie down. Again, I obeyed.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“You know me and you don’t. Am I right?” She replied.

“Yes! You are right! You are my sister, but you are not my sister!” I blurted, excited that she articulated just what I was thinking. “My sister doesn’t wear her hair like yours, she doesn’t wear clothes or jewelry like yours, and she doesn’t speak the words you speak. But wait a minute. Are you playing a trick on me Sue-Sue? Where is my sister? She was here before I went downstairs for a drink of water.”

“Don’t worry, little deary. Your sister is just fine. She has gone to the land of make believe, a fairyland where all things are magical. We have magically traded places for just a little while. She will be back soon with tales of her adventure. I am just one of the fairies that look just like her, but as you can see we have our differences. There are fairies there that look just like you too. So many I lost count. And candy. All the candy your stomach can hold. All of the fairies are nice and happy like me and they know about you. They would like to meet you. Would you like to meet them?”

“YES! I would, I really really would,” I told the fairy without hesitation. My imagination immediately went into overdrive and I could see them. All of them. Little girls that looked just like my sister and just like me and yet didn’t, in fanciful dress, with happy faces and full tummies. Fairyland in my minds eye was a clean, warm cavernous space, with cool continuously running fountains, mountains of candy, ornate shelves laden with countless jewels and colorful fabric for endless dress up. “I want to go to them. How do I get there?”

My sister’s fairy sister went on to explain, “It’s not that easy deary. You only get to go there if you stay up all night long. That’s what I did to get there. Fairies do not sleep. If you fall asleep even for one minute, you cannot go to fairyland. You can not walk around the bedroom or go downstairs. A fairy will only trade places with you from your bed. These are the rules. Do you think you can do it?”

“Yes I can do it! Tonight I will stay up all night long!” And I really tried my best. With excitement, I lay awake wide eyed into the wee hours and apparently, at some point sleep overtook me, because I awoke to the sunrise the next morning. Jumping out of bed, I was quite mad at my little self for failing and stomped my little feet directly towards my sister’s bed. “Hey Sue-sue, Sue-Sue! Wake up!”

“Go away and leave me alone!” She said, and she pushed me away with her Sue-Sue arm, not the gentle arm of the fairy with me the night before, so I was sure she was back.

Her agitation didn’t stop me from demanding, “Are the fairies real? Are the fairies real? I want to go to fairyland now! It’s not fair. I really tried to stay awake in my bed all night long.”

“YES, they are real, you little brat. You must have broken the rule. You fell asleep, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t get to trade places with one of the fairies. Now go back to bed!” She then rolled over and I knew better than to say another word.

The next night a new fairy came to visit. This time the Sue-Sue fairy wore a feathered hat and a blazer that I’m pretty sure was the same as my mother’s. Maybe the color was a little different, I couldn’t say, and I really didn’t want to question, because then it would mean the land of make believe wasn’t real and I would never get to meet my magical fairy sisters who were waiting for me in the fairyland cave with handfuls of candy.

Night after night I tried my best to stay awake, and the fatigue got so bad by the end of a couple of weeks, I would drop into my bed and immediately collapse into a sound sleep, preventing me from meeting another Sue-Sue fairy, but more importantly my very own look alike happy fairy sisters.

On the last night truly I believed in fairyland I said to my big sister before we went to bed, “You made it all up, didn’t you?”

“Did I?” Was all she replied, with a kind smile. It was time to let go and let her final two words on this subject rest in my heart. How could I be mad? For a time she gave me the gift of an imaginary fairyland, a place where little girls are magically happy, and I was too, for just a little while.