The Fairy Lantern and the Fox Doll

The Clover Village

Sam woke fitfully from a deep sleep. Sam had been dreaming about the Fairy World. Sam was a fawn, jumping through the Midnight Forest, afraid but enjoying the taste of freedom. The dream disturbed the teenager. Sunlight pawed at Sam's face, crumpled from the pillow. Light shredded the last chance of sleep.

Drowsily, Sam climbed out of bed and went downstairs. Kirla was slipped into a pocket, comfortingly close. Sam's mother was sifting through a box of books in the lounge room. Sam wasn't sure if she had even gone to sleep, yet she looked serene as always.

"Hi, Mum," Sam called out to her. The busy woman didn't reply or even seem to register the greeting. "Good morning, mother!" Sam said louder, teenage annoyance clear. Alice jumped out of her trance and turned from her seated position to look at Sam.

"Hello, Darling. You're up early!" She appeared flustered, guiltily caught off guard. "There's waffles in the kitchen if you want breakfast. Just put them in the toaster, dear. I'm going through some of Mum's stuff. She couldn't ever throw away a book. Even if she hated it, she couldn't throw it away. I remember her raging about how this fairy book was so inaccurate, "Goblins aren't how this book explains. They aren't evil at all. It's narrow minded BS!" And then she threw the book into this box. But she wouldn't get rid of the box."

Sam's mother smiled at the book in her hand. Her smile was so full of warmth, affection and the mystery only mothers had. The words sparked an idea in Sam's head. "Mum, what was Grandpa Maddoc like? I never met him."

Alice stood up, a careful business from less than young bones. She ushered Sam towards the kitchen, placed waffles in the toaster and turned on the kettle with elegant, well practised movements. Sam smiled at the woman. She moved like a dancer sometimes without even knowing it. She was a teacher, not a performer. Or maybe she was a performer of patience.

"Dad, eh?" She said, pouring hot water into a pot with loose tea leaves. The scent of Orange Pekoe filled the room. "Yeah, I feel like I didn't meet him much either. Mum said she and him tried to make it work for years. He was from another country and for some reason they couldn't get a visa for him...or something. It's blurry now. We hadn't talked about him for years. Mum said they loved each other a lot, despite their differences. I've seen pictures. He was very handsome. Ashley looks a lot like Dad - you know what I mean. I have memories of Dad, good ones, mostly birthdays, holidays, walking in the forest. He loved the forest. That's where Mum and Dad met."

Alice looked towards the distance, remembering happy times now gone.

"There's a photo in my room by Grandpa Maddoc? Was he an artist like Grandma Lacy?" Sam spoke to the warm buttered waffles.

Alice ruffled Sam's sandy hair with a kind laugh. "No, nothing like that. I think that picture of the tree is the only painting he ever did. It was a present from Dad for their first anniversary. Mum loved it...until they broke up. He came back for most of the births, yours, Ashley's, your other cousins. He would suddenly appear, cry at the babies, hold them in his arms and vanish somewhere. If we were lucky he'd say hello to me or your Uncles. He was a secretive person. I think Ashley met him a few times. Maybe ask your cousin if you're still curious?"

Sam nodded, maple syrup dripped onto the plate.

"Where is Ash, mum?" Sam said with a full mouth. Alice tapped Sam on the arm with friendly reproach.

"Don't eat with your mouth open, Sammy! Bad boy. I hope Ashley doesn't pick that habit off you! Your cousin left a bit before you came down. Didn't want any breakfast, just tea. I think the library was the itinerary for today? Not sure. Ashley'll come back later. Don't you worry, my love. Now what are you doing today? Helping me or abandoning your poor mother to play?"