Fairies in the Park

“Nu-uh!” “Are too!” Scott and Benji come through the door, elbowing each other roughly. “Nu-UH!” I step between them before Scott elbows his brother again, this one hard enough to cause a bruise and tears.

“Boys.” Guiding Benji to the couch, I point at the recliner where Scott needs to get his butt parked, and soon. They separate reluctantly, both of them with arms folded and pouts so pronounced their Grandma would tell them a fly could land there.

“Are too are not what?” I’m never sure whether to get in on these discussions. Past examples have led to magnified yelling about the validity of the aroma of various farts.

Scott rolls his eyes. “Benji is soooo dumb.” Benji scowls, a hint of hurt in his eyes. He and his brother may fight and egg each other on, but Benji looks up to Scott.

“Am not!” Benji kicks out at nothing.

“Spill it. I’m the decider on Who’s the Dumbest.” Now I get a joint eye roll. Fine. I can handle it.

“The kids were saying that after a snowfall, when it’s really peaceful, you can see fairies. Outside, you know—” Benji waves his arms around, suddenly conscious that fairies anywhere might be a tad, well, crazy sounding.

Scott snickers. Even the snickers make me empathize with Benji. Being eight years old is hard.

I sit on the far end of the couch. Being eight also means you don’t want affection from either of your parents, especially not when your brother is in full view.

“Well, I heard that too. When I was a kid. Never did see one, though.” I shoot Scott a glance to stop any further eye rolls. He’s ten. Ten-year-olds are great at eye rolling.

Benji reels in the landing strip that is his lower lip. He looks at me, then Scott. He’s not just falling for this, not when it might earn more ridicule when they’re out of my sight.

“For real? When you were a kid like me?”

“Yes. Just about your age. There was a pretty big snowfall the night before. I looked. And looked. And remember, I had to walk to school. Both ways. Uphill. Snow or hurricane or avalanche.” Benji giggles. Scott groans. “Barefoot,” I throw in for good measure. If I can jolly them out of an argument, there will be peace this evening.

“So what I’m saying is, I want to see them. The fairies. Since I missed out.” I check the weather app on my phone. “Looks like we’re in luck. Snow’s predicted tonight. We can go out early.”

Benji and Scott look at each other. I pretend not to notice. An early morning adventure sounds thrilling and unusual. Scott won’t want to get up that early on a Saturday, but he’ll give in if for no other reason than to be able to harass his little brother for more hours tomorrow.

“Sure! What time?” Benji’s all in.

“Hmm. I’d say we leave before dawn.” I check the time. “Dinner and early lights out. If we want to catch those fairies in the act, I think we need to sneak up on them.”

United in a purpose, Benji and Scott spend the evening together companionably. There’s minimal fuss, especially when I tell them they can bunk on the couch in their sleeping bags.

I swat at my phone when the alarm goes off the next morning, failing several times to swipe the screen correctly before it finally falls silent. Lizbeth mumbles in her sleep. I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder as I get out of bed. “Back before you know it,” I whisper quietly.

The boys are still asleep when I come downstairs. Instead of waking them right away, I make hot cocoa for them and coffee for me, filling three thermoses.

When I nudge Scott, he groans and turns over. Benji, on the other hand, wakes to my slightest touch. He’s slept in his clothing. “All’s I need is my boots, Dad.”

Smiling, I give him a thumbs up, then nudge his brother again. Scott stirs, then sits up, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “It’s too early.” He falls back flat.

“Sure. I get it. Me and Benji will go, though. We’re both ready.” Benji takes his cue from me. We talk quietly as we get our jackets zipped up and I put my boots on.

“Okay. Okay, wait.” Scott slithers out of his sleeping bag. Despite all the eye rolling yesterday, he’s also slept in his clothing. “I wanna go.”

The three of us leave the house, armed with flashlights and thermoses.” It’s a short walk to the city park. That’s where we’re headed.

There are no cars out this time of morning. The ground is covered with fresh snow. Streetlights reveal snow covered mounds of cars parked on each side of the street.

There’s practically no sound at all, save for the crunching of our boots on the snow. When we pause for a moment at the top of our street, I look back, seeing three sets of footprints leading to where we stand. I take a quick photo with my phone.

The park gates are open. We enter quietly. The boys seem to be as struck as I am at the untouched white that covers the grass, the bushes, and the walking paths. Someone will probably come through later to push back the snow and clear the paths, but for now it’s pristine. Perfect.

Benji points. “Look!” he whispers excitedly. A squirrel has caught his eye as it races down a tree trunk and across the expanse, disappearing from sight.

“I thought it was a fairy,” he says disappointedly.

“Squirrels are pretty magical,” Scott offers quietly. We look at each other over Benji’s head. I give him a nod.

We might not see fairies this morning, my sons and I. But Scott is right. There’s magic in the air, after all.

***
990 words

Prompt: Write a story or poem using the following words, bolded: city park, snowfall, fairies, peaceful.