Emerald City Dreamer (2 page)

Sandy and Jina had started these meetings two-and-a-half years ago. The Seattle branch was, and forever would be, the only branch. They had two objectives.

First, the emotional goal. Survivors of normal trauma, human-caused, could find recovery through therapy and groups. But that kind of support only works when people believe and can validate your experience. Whereas Jina and Sandy had been abducted, tormented, and in Sandy's case, actually raped by an imp. If it could happen to them, then perhaps there were others who had negative experiences with the fae. They could find them by simply hanging out a sign.

Jina wished Sandy would attend more often. Not this group, but the next level where the real sharing took place. Instead, Sandy stayed silent and her issues continued to fester. The two had grown more and more distant since college. Especially since moving to Seattle.

Their other goal was secret. Someone out there, somewhere, had to know more about faeries. The support group allowed them to research, to learn more about fae weaknesses. Better, they hoped to locate faeries so they could safely neutralize them.

Jina served as a talent scout to enlist the right people, the kind who were pissed enough to go hunting. This is how they found Gretel.

For the most part, the kind of people who showed up at a "faerie trauma support group" were useless on every level.

Interrupting Jina's meandering thoughts, the young man piped up. "My name is Jared. My friend told me about this place. I uh, I believe in fairies. They're really cool." He flicked his eyes towards Kimberly and she winked at him. All the thirteen-steppers left with Kimberly. After this one scored, he'd never come back. If she didn't have so many stories about faeries, Jina would have suspected Kimberly came here just to meet guys.

A few more people shuffled into the room over the remaining minutes: a yuppie gal wearing an outfit purchased entirely at REI, an artistic-looking guy with stubbly facial hair, and a butch woman who had attended the previous week.

Jina found her gaze lingering on the artist fellow. Probably a Burner, someone who participated in the counter-culture art event, Burning Man, every year in the Nevada desert. Likely he welded sculptures or made apparel out of recycled seat belts. He had a silver-colored chain around his neck that disappeared mysteriously under his shirt, and she longed to draw it up to see what was hidden on the other end.

She hoped he had something interesting to say, so he'd come back. It was possible he was like Jared, just here to find a good lay. Either way, she'd better get his number at the end of the meeting. She smiled at him warmly before glancing up at the clock.

She rubbed her nose ring, a simple stud, for luck. "Let's begin," she said. "First, I'm your moderator, Lynne." She used her middle name in these sessions to hide her identity. "I'm here to make sure everyone has a positive experience. There are a few simple rules to help facilitate that." She made eye contact with each person in the room as she spoke.

"
Rule one, everyone here is anonymous. Do not reveal anyone's identity outside these walls. Likewise, nothing you hear should be repeated after you leave today." Except of course what she and Gretel would report to Sandy.

"
Rule two, respect. We all have our different experiences. You may be able to identify with the experiences of another, or you may think that what they have to say is crazy. Please keep any judgments and advice to yourself, since we wish to create a safe environment for everyone.

"
Rule three. You do not have to say or do anything if you aren't comfortable. You can speak, if you wish, or you can just listen. Again, we want you to feel safe.

"
Rule four defines the guidelines of sharing. Anyone who has something to say can share. Please state your first name when you begin. While sharing, no one else is to interrupt, interject, ask questions, or otherwise interfere. Please try to keep your sharing about yourself, and do not comment on the experiences of others unless you are offering support. Today we have eleven people and only an hour and a half, so try to limit yourself to a few minutes so everyone gets a chance."

Jina paused and took a deep breath. "Most of the people in this room believe in faeries. Many of us believe because we have seen them. Some of us have experienced trauma. Psychologists have found that sharing our traumas with a supportive individual or group can help heal emotional scars. I am not a psychologist, nor qualified in any way except one: I have experienced trauma at the hands of a faerie."

She glanced around the room to see the variety of reactions. Those who had been here before didn't bat an eye. The gardener had already been put on notice, but the more detailed description seemed to take her aback. Jina found herself wishing she would leave, but she would likely stay to be polite. Jared seemed determined to sit through whatever kind of bullshit he needed to in order to get Kimberly's number. The scrawny girl... she looked... worried? It was hard to tell without seeing her eyes. The other new guy nodded slightly, with a look of interest on his face. Maybe he was legit.

The REI Yuppie raised her hand.

"
Yes?"

"
This isn't the Bicycling for Social Justice meeting?"

"
No. I think those are Tuesdays. Check the bulletins in the hall." One down. Jina waited patiently for her to leave, and then said, "We can begin. Anyone who would like can share."

Kimberly started almost before Jina could finish her sentence.

"
Hi! My name is Kimberly. This week I was hiking through the woods, and I sat next to a stream and was playing in the water, and a new fairy introduced herself to me. Her name is Bluebelle, and she's a water-dancer. She danced across the water the whole time we spoke. I asked why she showed herself to me, and she said it was because she trusted me. They all say that. She had green butterfly wings, which I thought was weird, with a name like Bluebelle..."

Kimberly continued her story, which bore a number of resemblances to last week's monolog about her old friend, The Hearth Gnome. Jina herself had created Rule Two, and always maintained an outward appearance of respect so as not to scare any legitimate witnesses into silence. Internally she broke Rule Two. Because Kimberly was full of shit.

Jina had to interject ten minutes into the tale of how Bluebelle reacted upon meeting Daisy Oakpetal. "Thanks, Kim. Please give others a chance to share," she reminded.

After a minute of silence, the little old lady spoke in a soft, cracking voice. "Good afternoon. My name is Mildred. Kimberly, you should know that the Good Folk are not always so gentle. You'd best be careful, or you may meet with some misfortune. Last week, I forgot to set out milk, and they stole my car keys. I was late for my doctor's appointment."

That was all she said. Mildred's stories were always very short. Jina couldn't tell if she really saw faeries or not, but gave her just a little benefit of the doubt.

"
Thank you for sharing, Mildred. Please remember, no crosstalk. Keep it about your own experiences."

After a few more minutes of nervous quiet, the butch woman cleared her throat. Jina was pretty sure she'd seen her working as a bouncer at
The Flowering Thorn
, and she had the muscles and even a few tattoos to match the job description.

"
My name is Cameron. I told my story a little bit last time, but I'll briefly summarize. My girlfriend and I have experienced a lot of strange occurrences lately. I don't know if it's faeries, ghosts, or some kind of psychic attack, but there are no groups for ghosts or psychic trauma, so here I am."

Jina didn't know if the woman had a ghost problem, though it didn't exactly sound like a faerie problem, either. She believed the woman and was glad their group could provide at least a little support. Cameron described the events of the last month at their century-old home in the Wallingford neighborhood: broken objects, rapidly decaying food, missing items, slamming doors. It seemed a bit like a classic ghost haunting, if ghosts even existed, but a few things made Jina think of faeries, like the distant sound of children's laughter. Maybe she should ask Cameron if they could visit to make an assessment. If the haunting was fae in nature, Gretel might be able to sense the creatures.

Maybe it would help if she sat out milk for them.

"
Hi, my name is Tom. I believe in fairies too. They are the same thing as angels, ghosts, spirit guides, totem animals, and UFOs. We are on the verge of a new awakening; an enlightened consciousness, where the curtain between the dimensions will lift, and beings will cross over and teach us their wisdom..." Jina let him prattle on, as she had the others. Probably a good backup source for LSD, but not a good source of facts. Tom politely finished after five minutes.

By now Kimberly and Jared were flirting as much as is possible without being able to talk or touch. Jina sighed. Then she thought to glance across at the other new guy. He opened his mouth, then hesitated, then opened his mouth again. The ones who hesitated were more likely to have a real story bottled up inside. Jina tried to encourage him by smiling and raising her eyebrows, the way psychologists sometimes did on movies.

"
I guess I'll go next," he began, looking at his hands in his lap. "This is going to sound really weird." Good. Somebody sane enough to know that encounters with faeries are weird. "I have this thing, where, sometimes, when I look at someone, they look... different. As if they aren't really human. As if they are shorter than they should be, or too tall. Or have animal ears, or strange faces. I still see the person, but it's like there's this second image on top.

"
When I was little, I thought it was normal. Until one time after church, I was trying to describe the pastor's wife to my mom, and I said, 'You know, the lady with the tail'. She looked at me like I was crazy, and then I said, 'the one with goat legs'. My mom freaked out and called me a liar and slapped me. She said I was never to say such cruel things about the pastor or his wife again. And so I've never told anyone since.

"
But I see them all the time. Like a couple of weeks ago. I work at Trader Joe's, and I was throwing out old produce. I went into the alley, and there's this kid jumps out of the dumpster. Scared the shit out of me. He hops on his bike and rides off like the wind. But he had horns, growing right out of the top of his head. He wasn't dressed normally either.

"
Lately a lot of creatures in movies seem really familiar. Like
Hellboy II
and
Pan's Labyrinth
. So I started thinking maybe what I'm seeing are faeries. Which only makes me feel more crazy. Then I saw your flyer..." He looked up at Jina. "...and decided to come."

Got one. Not much trauma, at least not that he was telling, but Jina was sure he could see real fae. Faesight was a rare talent. Even Gretel could only see their auras, unless she tried really hard and knew what to look for.

She had to get his number, and now not just for a date. She looked at Gretel and nodded.

Kimberly started to talk again, continuing her mind-numbingly cute tale from before. After a few minutes, the young man glanced at his watch, and then stood up, gave an apologetic shrug, and started to leave the room.

"
Wait!" Jina interrupted, breaking Rule Four. Kimberly shot her an annoyed look.

The man turned back and tapped his watch. "Sorry, I thought the meeting was only an hour. I have to be somewhere." And with a wave he was gone. Just like that. He hadn't even said his first name during sharing...

Jina nudged her teammate in the arm with her elbow and Gretel got up to chase after him.

"
Can I keep going?" Kimberly asked.

"
Uh, yes, as long as everyone else who wanted got a chance to share?" Everyone nodded.

"
Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, so Flutterbug tapped on my window three times because it was raining, so I let her in."

Gretel returned five minutes later, out of breath and empty-handed, slowly shaking her head.

IT WAS TIME TO CHECK the traps.

Sandy buttoned up her jacket in the foyer of her Capitol Hill mansion. She planned a quick walk to the park, before it got dark, first to check the iron cage on the north end-

A shadow briefly passed across the beveled sidelights that framed the door. A figure moved outside.

Sandy swung open the door a crack, immediately suspicious. They never had unscheduled visitors, and she did not recognize the man who loitered there. She let her eyes flicker over the white-on-white detection strips along the tops of the waist-high brick porch posts. Any glamour would turn the symbols permanently black.