To celebrate Spring
Here is one in my short stories from
Finding Fey ~ A Book of Fairy Tales and
Fairy Tale Poems
Inside a Swirl
By C.L. Collar
A terrorizing scream exploded from the elegant country house. Penelope dropped her gardening shears and looked up in horror. Her beautiful spring flowers flew into the air as she raced toward the cry. The smothering smoke reached her lungs before she saw the flames creeping out of the kitchen door. Disregarding the danger, Penelope barged through the door, carried forward by her mother’s sobs. She coughed as she frantically felt her way through the smoke.
The sobs were getting fainter. Penelope reached out toward them and grabbed her mother’s hand. The fire flared its angry face into hers. She pushed away the pain and, with all of her strength, pulled her mother toward the door and out into the sweet garden air. Then she collapsed.
Penelope shook her head to clear the bitter memory away. She slowly walked through her grandmother’s garden. Twisting her head she let her rough, scarred face bask in the bright sunshine. This garden was her haven, her escape from the hushed voices and unnerving stares of all who glanced her way. As she strolled silently down the brick pathway, she took in all of the beauty of spring. Tulips and daffodils bobbed their heads nodding their hello. Hyacinths teased her nose with their heady fragrance, beckoning her to stay and visit with them for a while. They were very tempting but not what she sought this day. She knew that the sweet scent of her grandmother’s soft pink peonies was the only cure for the ache in her heart.
Had it really been ten years? It seemed like only yesterday. Her mother had not survived the scorching blaze. She had passed to heaven in this very garden, her soul swept away on the sweet perfume of the glorious pink peonies.
Tears trickled down her face as Penelope again relived that fatal day, the day that had taken away both her mother and her chance at a normal life. She sighed as she sat down amongst the sweet-smelling blossoms. Burying her scarred face into the soft petals, she let the tears fall.
“Do not cry, my Sweet Pea. I am here. I have come to help you.”
Sweet Pea? No one but her precious mother had ever called her that. Penelope looked up toward the voice. “Mother, is that you?”
“No, it is not your dear sweet earthly mother. She is in Heaven. I, myself, guided her to those pearly gates. But I have known you since you were a babe playing with my petals. I have watched you grow and blossom into a beautiful young woman.”
“Please do not make fun of me. I cannot bear it on this day.”
“I would never make fun of you. I speak only the truth. Your beauty lies deep within your soul. It hid there when your mother passed, and now it is ready to return. It has been in hiding much too long. Look deep into my blossoms and see what lies ahead.”
Penelope’s eyes were magically drawn to the peony’s pink foliage. As she stared, the petals began to blur and then swirl. She tried to look away but could not. Finally, she gave in and felt herself falling into the depths of the beautiful flower.
When she woke, she was lying on a pink satin sofa. A spring green ceiling caught her eye as she tried to focus on her surroundings. She sat up slowly. Her head was still awhirl, and things were still not clear. Where was she? Had she really fallen into the flower?
“Take your time, dear. Let your mind settle, and then we will begin.”
The voice came from a round little woman with rosy cheeks and blueberry eyes. Her white hair was tucked up in a daffodil hat. Her dress was scattered with apple blossoms and red rose petals. She wiped her plump hands on her tulip apron as she scuttled about the room gathering small bottles and vials.
Penelope tried to gather her thoughts. “Who are you, and where am I?” The words finally found their way out of her mouth.
“Well, this will probably sound a little crazy to you, being a human and all. In fact I almost didn’t do it at all. I nearly lost my nerve, but Mother Nature convinced me that it needed to be done, and it was up to me to do the doing.” The woman wiped her hands on her apron again. “You see, you kinda belong to me. I am Miss Peony, and I am your Flower Fairy Godmother.”
“You are my what?” Penelope stared in disbelief. “I have heard of a Fairy Godmother, but never a Flower Fairy Godmother. Just exactly what do you mean?”
Miss Peony twisted her tulip apron in her hands. “I knew this wouldn’t work. I have never been good at talking to grown ups.” Miss Peony flung her arms out to the side. “Now, I can visit with children all day long with no worries whatsoever, but once they get past five, well then they just seem to stop talking to me. But that is my problem, not yours.”
She turned back to her bottles and started putting them away. “I had best send you back, and let Mother Nature take care of this thing that needs to be done. I am sorry to have bothered you. I just thought that maybe since you carry my name, you might like to have a nice little chat. We had such lovely visits when you were young.”
“I talked to you when I was little? I don’t remember ever meeting you until now, so how could this be true?”
“Oh yes, my dear,” Miss Peony set the bottles back down on the table, “you talked to me in my flower form. Remember all the wonderful adventures we went on? I was a vast jungle, and you were a lioness on the prowl. I was the decoration at your fabulous tea parties, and most of all, I was your trusted friend when you just needed someone to listen to your worries. I have been always been there for you.”
Penelope felt tears threating to fall. “I didn’t know you were real. I just knew that when I was with you, I always felt better.”
“That is because I am a part of you. I am the life, the laughter, and the love which fills your soul. You have shut me out for ten long years, but now it is time for you to live again.”
“My life is what it is. No one will ever accept me looking like this.” Penelope pushed back her golden hair to reveal the full extent of her scars. “This mark will be with me until the day I die. It is a constant reminder of my failure to save my mother. I will never forgive myself for letting her die.”
“What! Is that what you think? Dear me, dear me,” Miss Peony was twisting her apron again, “and all this time I thought that you were pining away because of your lost beauty. No wonder your soul is hiding.”
Miss Peony grabbed Penelope’s hands and sat down beside her. “Now you listen to me. You are not to blame for your mother’s death. You were only a child of fifteen. You did your best to save your mom, but it was not to be. Her time had come. It was time for her to go home.” Miss Peony patted Penelope’s hand. “You showed such bravery by trying to save her. I was very proud of you. You were fiercer than any lioness I have ever seen. You did the most unselfish thing a human can do. You risked your own life to save your mother.”
“But I failed, and now all I have to show for it is these blasted scars. They mock me with my failure.”
“They do not! Your scars are proof of what a wonderful, loving person you are. They tell the story of your bravery. They are there because you cared enough for another to not worry about yourself. You are the only one who sees them as ugly.”
“That isn’t true. I have seen people whisper behind my back of my failure. They blame me for my mother’s death. I know they do!”
“People whisper of your bravery so as not to bring bad memories back to you. They do not see you as a failure but as a survivor. It is time to show them the real you, not the shell of the being you have become. Sit here. I will be right back.”
Miss Peony rushed over to the table and grabbed her bottles. “These will fix everything and make you all better. There is a wonderful life planned for you, and it is time for you to start living it.” She sat beside Penelope and placed the bottles on the coffee table in front of them.
“What are these?” asked Penelope as she eyed the brightly colored bottles.
“They are your cure. These flower essences each have a different gift.” She picked up the bright yellow bottle and poured a small amount into a dainty china cup. “This is yellow carnation. It bestows cheerfulness.”
She picked up the dark purple bottle. “And this is one of my favorites, passion flower. It, of course, will bring passion back into your life.” She added it to the cup. “Next we’ll add a little dab of dignity from the beautiful magnolia, and, we must not forget a large dose of enthusiasm from the dazzling day lily.”
Miss Peony twirled her finger over the cup of colorful liquid. It began to swirl. “Now drink this down like a good girl while I get the last ingredient.” She handed the dainty cup to Penelope and waddled into the other room.
Penelope stared at the colors in the cup. They swirled in unison but did not mix. It will be like drinking a rainbow, she thought as she lifted the cup to her lips. The smell and taste were as intoxicating as the colors. She finished the drink and was feeling quite giddy when Miss Peony entered the room carrying an elaborately decorated pink glass bottle.
Miss Peony took the cup from Penelope and filled it to the brim with the pale pink liquid. The exotic scent of peonies filled the air. “This is my gift to you. My essence gives the gift of healing. It will heal all of you from inside to outside. Bottoms up.”
Penelope tipped the cup and emptied it in one gulp. The drink was tart, yet sweet, much like pink lemonade. Placing the empty cup on the table, she smiled at Miss Peony. “Are you for real or just a dream?” A giggle escaped her lips.
“I might have put a little too much yellow carnation in the mix.” Miss Peony laughed. “I think you are drunk with happiness. Now you must go back home.” She handed the elegant bottle to Penelope. "Take one spoonful at midnight every night by the light of the moon while standing in front of my pink peonies. We must heal your soul before anything else will truly begin to heal. The process has begun. Meet me in the garden in one week."
Penelope was again swirling through the light pink petals. She glided upward towards the bright sunlight. When she stopped spinning, she found herself lying in the middle of her favorite flowers.
The week passed quickly. Penelope did just as her Flower Fairy Godmother had instructed, and with each new day she felt more alive. On the seventh day she hummed a sweet melody as she made her way to the peonies. She couldn’t wait to see Miss Peony and show her how well she was doing.
Miss Peony was sitting in the middle of her flowers, talking to a ladybug. As Penelope approached, she set the bug on a blossom and rose to meet her.
“You look absolutely stunning.” Miss Peony beamed with pride. “I knew you could do it. How do you feel?”
“I feel wonderful, Miss Peony, and I have you to thank for it. I don’t dwell on my scars or the past anymore. There is too much beauty in life to let those things drag me down. I believe my mother would have wanted me to live life to its fullest, and that is exactly what I plan to do. Thank you so much for being there for me and showing me the way out of despair.” Penelope threw her arms around the plump little fairy and gave her a huge hug.
Miss Peony swallowed hard to hold back her tears of joy. She had done what needed to be done. She unwrapped Penelope’s arms and took her hand.
“I am not quite through with you,” she said looking deeply into Penelope’s eyes. “I have one more thing to do. Close your eyes and do not open them until you hear the robin sing.”
Penelope closed her eyes and breathed in the sweetness of the garden. She felt Miss Peony place her soft plump hands on her face. The hands were cool, calming, and refreshing. As the hands pulled away, she heard Miss Peony’s goodbye. “I will see you soon, my Sweet Pea. Now go live the life that was planned for you.”
The garden suddenly became quiet. Then the precious song of the robin filled the air. Penelope opened her eyes. There before her in the middle of the peonies was a small pool of clear blue water. Penelope knew this had not been there before. She bent down to take a closer look and was amazed at what she saw.
Her face was cleared of all her scars save one. The one remaining was hidden behind her hair on the left side of her forehead. It was in the shape of a small pink peony. She smiled. It would forever be a small reminder of what she had done, a reminder of her bravery that dreadful day. Yes, she would now go live the life that was planned for her. It was time.
“Thank you so much, Miss Peony. I love you.”
“I love you too, my dear. Now go have some fun.”
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