The Pink Fairy
Lisa caught up to where Dave stood and she saw that the house was gone. “How?” She looked at the empty lot that was now a large hole where the cellar had been.
“I don’t know,” Dave said. He sounded stunned. “I—I really don’t know.”
Lisa bit her bottom lip. After a moment she said, “I’d like to leave now.”
“The highway will take you to the lake and back to your cottage.”
Lisa took a step backward. “I thought you were giving me a ride?”
Lisa peered at the hole, and then looked around at the trees and brush that had been stripped of their leaves. Branches had been torn from bigger trees, and a few older ones had been uprooted. The oak tree (that had begun growing acorns last year, Dave told her later) had suffered the worst damage: its branches that had faced the house were gone and its bark on that side had been stripped away. She went to it and touched its wounds.
“It’s like the house exploded,” she said. “But there’s no sign of it anywhere. No glass, no boards, no bricks or cement. Nothing.”
Dave remained peering inside the hole. “Magic happened here.”
“You mean like fairy magic?”
“I mean the magic that makes people and houses disappear.” He shook his head. “I mean I thought I believed in ghosts until I saw some real ones. But I never believed in magic until a neighbor girl fell into a sinkhole here last year and vanished.” Dave kicked a stone into the hole. “Then an old woman showed up and claimed to be her daughter.” He kicked another stone. “How is that possible beyond magic?”
Lisa watched him kick another stone. “I don’t know,” she said.
“And now my dad’s house that used to be here … vaporized. Along with Craig. Gone. Just like Vree.”
“Do you think he had anything to do with this?”
“That bully who punched you.”
“Craig? No. He’s just a punk.”
Suddenly, Dave sat on the ground and looked at the hole.
“You should go now,” he said.
Lisa went to him. “What about you?” she asked.
Dave drew up his legs and wrapped his arms around them. He said nothing. Lisa sat next him and hugged her own legs. Their late morning became noon. Lisa watched the treetops as birds and squirrels seemed to return from wherever they had went to during the disturbance earlier.
“What kind of fairy is she?” she asked after nearly fifteen minutes had passed.
“A pixie, I think,” he said and rubbed his eyes, “although I can’t find her in any of the fairy books I borrowed from the library.”
“Don’t pixies have big heads and eyes?”
“I’m not sure. But she’s very beautiful.”
“And naked. Definitely naked.”
“Does that embarrass you?”
“Maybe a little. But it shouldn’t.”
Dave agreed. He aimed his binoculars and scanned the sky. “I hope nothing happened to her,” he said.
It was then that the fairy flew from the darkest shadows of the empty lot where the huge house had once been and hovered inches away from Lisa and Dave. Lisa reached out but the fairy flew back into the shadows.
The ground shook suddenly and hard for a moment. The cellar floor splintered and a green glow emitted faintly from the empty lot’s depth. Dave scrambled down the backside of the cellar and peered into a sinkhole similar to the one his father had bulldozed a few yards away. Inside the hole, darkness decreased as several green crystals blinked on. Then there came a sucking sound before he tumbled inside.
As I followed Dave into the hole, Lisa shouted his name behind me.