Lost in Between

Chapter 1 (A)

Esmé had three cardinal rules: First, never forget to bring an iron when going anywhere. Second, never take off the bracelet no matter what. And last but most important, never under any circumstance engage with a fairie. Never. Never. Never. She repeated 'never' to me when I was seven as though she was hammering the word an inch deer into my brain so there would be no way I could possibly forget. And if indeed that was her intention, I would say it did actually work— eventually.

At first, I always forgot about the iron, and if it weren't for Esmé's consistently asking me about it before I got on the bus to school, I would have gone everyday without it. From the start, most of my classmates had always thought that I was weird, and my always having a fork protruding in my pocket surprisingly didn't prove them wrong. I kind of hoped that some of them would somehow still want to be my friend, so I guessed I didn't really made an effort to remember.

The bracelet was something else entirely. It was an intricate chain of white gold, adorned with twelve, tiny opals that looked like stars in the daylight. It was beautiful, but wearing it gave me an instant, uncanny feeling of having some kind of pressure on my body that made it a little hard for me to breathe. I couldn't last a couple of hours without having the desperate urge to jump out of my skin. Needless to say, I took it off every chance I got. I even lost it once, and Sarah had to spend the rest of the afternoon and all day the next day to find it. I was very sorry, of course— Sarah made sure of it.

And then there were my trysts with the fairies. Gnomes, with their muddy, chubby cheeks, and pixies, with their tiny, glittery wings, and some other cute fairies, they all loved me. They flocked to me like flies to s**t and moths to light. And as a friendless child, I absolutely couldn't resist playing with them. Esmé usually came and found me eventually, rushing to me and screaming at the fairies to go away. And in fairness, they left everytime, but not without baring their sharp, pointed teeth at her first.

So yes, for a while I pretty much flunked at all three of Esmé's cardinal rules. But fortunately, I came to terms with being weird and made peace with having a fork for a best friend. Then as Sarah promised, wearing the bracelet got bearable with time until I actually forgot I was wearing it. And funny enough, I had to be bitten in the butt by a gnome for me to finally want to avoid fairies in general. Ten years after their conception, following Esmé's rules became as second nature to me as blinking and breathing.

But little did I know that today, in a short span of more or less than twenty-five minutes, I was going to break not one but all three of them. In my defense, I was caught off guard by the gravity of having to deal with the situation and was swept off my feet by the urgency of having to make a decision. But in all honesty, there was no decision to make at all. I really had no choice in the matter. I had to do what I did or I couldn't have lived with myself. If only Emè and Sarah agreed and didn't think my actions were inexcusable.

I was out in the forest in an errand for Esmé that involved gathering the herbs necessary for the medicines she wanted to make. I tiptoed and plucked twelve mature leaves of kava from their hanging vines and arranged them in the basket among the other herbs I had already collected. I checked the list Esmé gave and confirmed what I needed to go get next. It was henna, which grew not too far from where I stood. I turned and trudged through a thick undergrowth of devil weeds, reminded again of how aptly they were named.

The forest was one of the few places where I always felt like I belonged. I could never pinpoint as to why exactly. Maybe it was the penetrative silence that was never uncomfortable or awkward and needed not be filled. The intermittent sounds of birds, cicadas, and the passing winds that came and went without rhythm but somehow still found harmony. The indiscriminate nature in the way that wildflowers grew and flourish in the midst of thorns and weeds despite their differences. There was always this unique feeling when I was there, a connection that I had never felt anywhere else.

I was on my way to the hennas' location when a butterfly more suited in the disco than in the wild, flew past right in front of my face. It was the biggest and the most beautiful I had ever seen. Its wings were as wide as my hands with the fingers spread out, and they were studded with what looked like rough gems that cast fluttering, multicolored rays of light in the space around. The party butterfly kept flying till a short distance away then rose straight up halfway to the treetops and disappeared into thin air as though it was never there in the first place.

A business plan for a mining venture began in my mind, but I quickly shot it down and walked again till I reached the spot where the hennas grew in abundance. I scoured through their foliage and looked for the ones that were in just the right age, not too young and not too old. I bent down and set the basket on the ground, then I held a henna by the base and pulled very slowly so as not to disturb the others. I chose another henna and did the same, then I broke off both of their stems and placed the roots in the basket. I stood and jumped in surprise.

The unmistakable thump made by the impact of a weight hitting the ground from a considerable height boomed behind me. It was such a stark intrusion into the tranquility of the forest that I was startled into dropping the basket. I turned and looked around but saw nothing that could have caused the noise. Then came a loud groan of pain and an even louder roar of even greater pain. Slowly and silently, I followed the sounds toward the spot where I encountered the butterfly then quickly dunked down and hid behind a bush of wintercreepers.