~Hannah
The
Fair Folk Plant’s Sprout By Hannah Walker
Once upon a time, in the days of magic and
wizards, there was a magical garden in the middle of Hasneverhappend, located
in the country of Neverwillbe, in that garden grew the Thumb plant, which was
the origin of the Fair Folk, and on each summer solstice a new sprite was born.
On a particularly peculiar passing of the spring, the enchanted bud bloomed,
and out sprung a queer little lad who had never a name. He was disoriented at
first, discovering these bizarre stick like things, that bent, attached to the
end of his arm. He could jump! He could spring from leaf from leaf and eat
things so sweet, things he had never tasted before. He had adventures in the
garden as well. Once while he was feeling quite cocky, he decided to save a fly
that had flown into the spider’s web. But once he had freed the poor thing, he
himself got caught, and was almost the dinner of the hairy beast that owned the
thing, but fortunately the rain came at the perfect time and washed away the
spider and freed him. He was investigating the perplexing outsized garden, to
him it was, but to the human’s eye, it was quite usual, when a grotesquely
gigantic, clammy hand scooped him up, to meet large stormy gray eyes, that
peered at him in a curious examine, that soon turned to a burning rage. Then
with a feminine voice that sounded as raspy as the Indian Ocean, spoke in a
furiously imperious growl, “Now what is this! Have I found a pest in my garden,
I have!” when the pixie fervently shook his head, the human raked her eyes
across him once more, and continued, “Have you not at least the sense to deny!?
Bah! I shall put you to good use then!” and with that she encircled the Fair
Folk miracle creature with her damp fist, and he felt the harsh sway that, he
could not explain how he knew, meant he was being taken from his dwelling.
The woman, he now knew as the cook, placed
him on a hard surface, that faintly resembled a tree he had seen fall by a
strange device, and remained still, observing him for what seemed to be
forever. Then, being snapped from her trance by the faint chime of the clock,
bustled around the room to place large objects around him that he had never
seen before. Oh wait! He thought I have seen that one before! I used to have one just like it! That is a
knife! And that is a bowl! I wonder what she plans to do with it. Shall she
cook me a feast of nuts and berries? “Alright little boy, well I suppose
you need a proper name, unless you already have on?” after a beat of tense
silence, she bulldozed on “I shall take that as a no then? Right then, how
about a common name?” She cocked her head to the side “Tom! Tom it shall be!
But no, that is too common, How about
Tom Thumb, since you are barely taller than a thumb!” He gave her surprising
look of excitement; I have never a name
before now! I must be a proper boy then! Then she rustled around the kitchen, she had
explained the name of the room, and came back with a few select items. “As a
mentioned before in the patch, ‘You shall be put to good use’ so you shall help
me cook my mincemeat pie.” Oh! Mincemeat
pie! Have I ever had one of those before? Nay. After she had combined all of the ingredients
into a crust, she asked for him to check the pie for any missing ingredients.
Tom, of course, had not seen anything wrong with this, so he climbed in, only
to have a thin ring of the sweet dough crimped around him. He was almost into
the oven when he managed to poke his head out, and startle the cook half to
death. “Ahh!” she exclaimed, and dropped the pie, splattering its contents over
the stone floor. “Plagues! No what shall we have for supper!?” she glared at
the boy for an instant before something flickered behind her eyes. “Ahh, now
boy, do not fret, all boys amess something at some time, it is a natural thing
to replace the lost though…” she drawled on “Bah! Just go out and get me a
fish, the biggest one that you may see, and be home before dark.” Then she sent
him out into the wood, into the trees, out on the soft surface of the earth, to
find the biggest trout he could spot.
Tom Thumb set out into the wilderness to
find a lake, and that he did, rather quickly. He threaded a little grub onto a
blade of grass tied to a twig grasped in his fist. He waited a while before he
felt that tug, a tug to put all other before to waste. This was the plumpest,
most delectable fish he had ever seen, and once he managed to pull the creature
over, onto the shore, he was completely soaked in river water. Tom succeeded in
bringing the fish to the doorstep before it flopped up and swallowed him whole.
This commotion brought the cook the door and she had scanned the scenery for
several minutes before looking down and seeing a plump fish waiting at her
doorstep. She grinned “I guess the lad had a mind to go back to his roots, I do
not blame him, but, he would have been a nice appetizer.” And with that, she
reached down and seized the meat, and brought it into her homely cottage. What a witch! Tom thought I have been tricked into serving a witch her
supper! So he decided to destroy the inside by eating it. He nibbled, and
nobbled, and slurped his way around the beast until it was as hollow as an
ancient oak tree. And then it was easier to pop his head out and scare the lady
so badly that she tossed the fish behind her and crumpled to the ground. Tom
freed the rest of his body from the fish and returned to the wilderness to
adventure, to see more of what was out there, for he thought; I have learned my lesson sure for!
Make
sure you don’t follow every giant from the sky, for most of them mean you harm!
And! Be careful! For he was grateful for escaping with his life.
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