Fairy Circle (7 page)

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Authors: Johanna Frappier

BOOK: Fairy Circle
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Audrey scratched her forehead, raised a foot and considered her chipped toenail polish, then adjusted her widening rear-end more comfortably on the lumpy ground.


No, I haven’t seen anything around here. Psychics say that ghosts don’t come after people; that they’re not trying to scare people. When people think ghosts are after them, really it’s just that the ghosts are trying to communicate. But they’re frustrated because they’re dead or they don’t know they’re dead which makes them confused which makes them…short tempered. Psychics also say ghosts look perfectly normal…not all chopped up, bloody and ghouly like in the movies.”

Saffron’s voice was flat, “Ah huh.”

Audrey shook Saffron’s rigid hand. “Did it try to get your attention? Did it seem to want to communicate with you? Boy, girl, man, or woman?”

Saffron shook her head. “Woman. No, girl. I think.”


Oh. Well, if you see her again, see if she’ll communicate with you.”

Saffron’s heart stopped.
If I see her again….
The flaccid balloon that was her throat filled all at once, as if someone had given it one great puff, leaving no room to swallow. Saffron was relieved to be sitting on grass, a base too great to shake as she shivered on top of it. She waggled her foot back and forth, back and forth, hoping her mother wasn’t studying her as she vibrated with terror.

Audrey whispered from behind her, “How painful that must be.”

Yeah, Saffron thought. That woman was very sad. Saffron had felt it. She felt the ghost’s terrible, engulfing, wretchedness pull at her. And, as the morning grew brighter and the sun grew hotter, the memory of the ghoul was enough to make her feel black and cold and lost. How could she possibly feel so much pain about that ghost, someone she didn’t even know?

T
hat spot in the woods had always been her refuge. Now, the ghost had ruined it for her. She felt violated, scared off from the place that called to her and comforted her like nowhere else.

Audrey was still rambling.
“Don’t worry about it anymore. And, believe me, I know, telling someone not to worry about something is like telling them not to think; it’s impossible. But there is one thing you need to do, Saffron.”

And as if Saffron knew instinctively what her mother would say, Audrey felt Saffron’s hand seize within her own, felt her whole body go rigid. Saffron said nothing, just waited for her sentence.


It’s not fair for that woman to suffer. Call to her, Saffron. That’s what the psychics say to do; let her know you’re there. Then let her know she’s dead. Let her know she doesn’t have to go through whatever it is she’s experiencing.”

Saffron balked. It was a mixed-up noise, a snort of incredulity combined with the squawk of a kicked chicken. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, Mom. Great theory. But would you really want to be the person to tell someone else she’s dead? Wouldn’t a person kinda get pissed off if you tried to tell them that?”

Audrey shrugged. “Maybe. But are you going to avoid trying to help someone because you don’t know how they’ll react?”

Saffron shrugged back.

Audrey pinched the bridge of her nose. “Enough of this. I know what you need. You’re going to work with me now. Oh, fantastic, physical fatigue. There’s no better medicine. Derek’s got the store to get to and I have the vegetable garden to see to. So, we’re going to work very hard today, outside, in the garden. We’ll get all nasty thoughts out of your head by working your body to exhaustion with physical labor. Won’t that be fun?”

Saffron groaned. Her mother knew she couldn’t stand working in the vegetable garden. She would reach down for the hose and it would be a snake. She would grab a weed stalk to rip from the ground and a fat slug would squash in her grip. There were spiders, mosquitoes, and unidentified aliens from the insect world. Or, her favorite, she’d turn over a layer of earth and find hundreds of wriggling grubs beneath the
surface, yuck. Maggots too, in the compost. How she hated maggots!

Audrey yanked at Saffron’s arm, pushed her over into the grass, and slapped her rear-end. Saffron gave a weak grin and quickly brushed the wet from her cheeks. Evading her mother had been easier than she thought. Now, if only the crap would stop escalating. She could avoid her mother’s prying indefinitely.

Saffron walked to the shed to get the wheelbarrow. She met her mother on the right side of the house where the vegetable garden loomed. It was humongous and full of weeds – a whole day’s work. She slouched to the tomato plants where her mother was bent over, working with her usual maximum efficiency.

Saffron squatted and poked at the earth, thick leather gloves on and trowel in hand.


What are you doing with that?” Audrey had stopped to check out Saffron. “Trowels are for springtime. Fingers are for weed time.”

With her sun-squint eyes, Saffron tossed the trowel into the wheelbarrow, but didn’t move to take off her gloves. She stared back at her mother and said nothing.

Audrey knew to pick her battles with Saffron. If Saffron wanted to wear the gloves, let her wear the gloves.


We have to pick all of these tomatoes too, then the lettuces and peas. We should start canning some tomato sauce. There will be tons more to come. You can take some over to Mindy’s house later.” Audrey resumed picking.

She didn’t see Saffron snap to attention and cast her mother a sharp look. Why did mothers have to push relationships that didn’t exist? When your sibling or cousin was some snotty, lying witch, why did mothers pretend that it was a good idea for the two of you to get together? “I have stuff to do later.” Saffron mumbled.

Audrey looked back in Saffron’s direction and threw her arms up into the air. But she never actually made eye contact and never said, “What? What could you possibly be doing later?” before she shook her head and turned back to her work.

They picked and weeded in silence for the next two hours. Saffron was working at the southeast end of the garden. She parted two thick, leafy vines to finish the end of a row, when, all of a sudden, she had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming at the sight that lay before her. There, on the ground at her feet, sunning his small, naked, and wrinkled nut-brown body, was a little man.

He was lying on his stomach, hair curled all over his back and rear-end. He was completely unaware of the giant girl who was in a contained frenzy just above him. He stretched luxuriously, reaching far out in front of him with his little knobby hands, and then raising his legs off the ground behind him, scrunching his toes and buttocks. “Mmmmmmwwwwwaaaaaahhhh.” The yawn blasted out of his meaty, purple lips as he smacked them contentedly. He turned his head to the side, and now he was facing Saffron, still unaware, as his eyes remained shut. Instantly, he was snoring.

Oh, God,
please, don’t roll over.
Suddenly, the air around her thickened, pulling at the tips of her ears, and drawing the skin of her face back.

The little man ceased his Mack-truck breathing. One eyelid shot open. Behind the lid was a beady black eye that stared at Saffron with a flinty intensity. Saffron gasped. The little man popped up from the ground like a shot and started to screech at Saffron in a language she didn’t understand, but in a decidable that meant “screw you.”


Yuck, yuck! Ooooooh, YUCK!” She waved her hands frantically at him. Her chin pulled back into her neck, and wincing fiercely, she slapped one hand over her eyes. He screeched again, jumping up and down, his shrimp-sized penis ding-donging from its epicenter. She forced her hand away from her eyes to keep a watch on him. Who knew what he would do to her? He spun around so his back was toward her, bent over, and spread his legs so she could see his face as he hung his head between his thighs. And there, beneath his lumpy, dangling family jewels, he scrunched up his walnut face at her and stuck out his tongue. Then he stood up, grabbed his clothes from the ground, and ran off into the jungle of tomato vines.


Oh, God. Oh, yuck.” Saffron fell to a sitting position on the ground.

In the meantime, Audrey, from the other side of the garden had heard Saffron’s grunts and shrieks and was making her way through the tangle of green to see what was going on. Audrey found Saffron still sitting, her eyes red and watering. “What on earth is the matter now?”


Nothing, Mom. Oooh nothing. I just saw something REALLY gross.”

At that moment, a high-pitched scream emanated from the other side of the garden, from the direction in which the little man had disappeared. Saffron was shocked. Could it be that the little man had heard her words
and
understood them? Quickly she looked up at her mother to see if she had heard the scream as well. Apparently not - Audrey was still frowning, still staring at Saffron waiting for her to explain herself.
That little runt can understand me!


Yeah, Mom, really it was nothing. Just a teeny tiny
maggot!
” And when she said “maggot” she yelled it louder than the rest of the words just to
make sure
he heard.

It seemed he caught her drift, as this time the scream was so shrill and so full of rage that Saffron felt a bit intimidated and decided that she had said enough. After all, what if it went Chucky on her and sneaked into her room tonight? She shuddered.

Audrey was more than a little perturbed. “Really, Saffron. All this drama over a maggot? They’re harmless. (Another howl.) I think we’d better finish up. Let’s do something else.” As if Audrey could keep her going from project to project and outrun the crazies. “And I don’t think it was a maggot, Saffron. Maybe a grub, they’re a
tiny
bit bigger.” She held her thumb and forefinger together to show Saffron a quarter-inch. “Maybe a little fatter.”

Audrey bent down, amber bracelets clacking, and offered Saffron a hand to get off the ground. This was a good thing. Just as Audrey curved over, a rotten tomato sailed through the air where her neat and pretty head had just been. Saffron watched the tomato soar by and gave a weak nod of agreement.

Chapter 5


H
i, I’m Coco. Welcome to the glamorous world of second shift.”

Saffron watched Coco put on disposable gloves and start making a sandwich. She swiped at her nose after the ham, then the cheese, then the mayo. Coco had a little cold. Her body was long and thin, much like Saffron’s. They were two beanpoles in the night.

Saffron studied Coco while the girl was busy making the sandwich. On her feet she wore leather sheaths with what looked like the heels of stiletto pumps peeking out of the bottom, as if Coco created her own boots by combining shoes with sheaths, which she did. The boot sheaths were decorated with grey feathers. She wore tight jeans and a t-shirt. The t-shirt had a bare-branched tree on it with the word “lunacy” barely stamped across the limbs. A rotten apple was in the grass at the base. The t-shirt had puffed sleeves. Netting had been sewed on where the regular sleeves had been cut off. It was another homemade item. Coco’s hair was long, black, and straight with a knotted lump on one side - bed-head she had neglected to comb out. Her nose and face were long too – pretty, in a witchy, Cher sort of way.


Hi, I’m Saffron.”


You got what on?”

Saffron raised her voice from a mumble to a little louder than mumble. “My name, it’s Saffron.”

Coco looked up. “Your hair’s not yellow.”

Saffron flinched and turned around to check her reflection in the window. She didn’t know what else to do with this comment.


Saffron, the spice, it’s yellow.” Now Coco was watching Saffron as she finished wrapping the sandwich. Saffron avoided her eyes. “Are you okay?”

Saffron’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “What? Me?”


Yeah, Sag-Ass Bea told me you were mental or something, like smiling all the time.”

Saffron said nothing as her hands hung limp at her sides, their dead weight pulling her shoulders forward. She felt heat prickle her cheeks.

Coco put a Black Chicken sticker on the sandwich and threw it in the cooler, staring at Saffron the whole time. “Your face is baboon-butt red, but otherwise, you look fine to me.”

Really? The dreadful weight in Saffron’s arms lightened and she stood a little straighter. “I call her the Fried-Headed Lady.” Saffron was still mumbling.

Coco cocked her head. “Wha…?” She opened her mouth and screaming laughter came pouring out. Her eyes opened wide. “Oh, my God, that’s like wicked funny! What are you doin’ workin’ here anyway?” Coco wiped her nose. “You goin’ to school part time? Help me toss these salads.”

She gave Saffron a plastic long-handled spoon and together they began to stir the salads in the display case. She showed Saffron how to gently fold the congealed salads in on themselves so they would appear fresh. They were told to do it on every shift.


I don’t go to school.”


Savin’ up for it?”


Nah.”


You just graduated, right?”

Saffron looked up, stunned. Coco had remembered her from school and she had been a year ahead of Saffron. They had never spoken before in their lives. “Yeah, I did.”

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