An Ordinary Fairy (6 page)

Noah hesitated. “I’ll think about it.”

“Think about it hard because I’m giving you one week.”

Noah rubbed the phone across the truck seat several times, and smacked it against the dash. “Richard? What did you say? I’m losing my signal out here.”

“Don’t pull that shit with—” Noah switched off the phone.

Once at the motel, Noah laid the papers on the table, except the article with Willow’s picture, which he stuck to the wall with tape. “You’ll have to wait for now, mystery woman,” he said to her image. “As my boss reminded me, I have work to do.”

Noah downloaded the Bismarck pond photographs to his laptop, cataloging and analyzing them under Willow’s watchful eyes, which seemed to draw his often. The afternoon passed before he finished. He stood, stretched, and retrieved a Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator. After downing half the can in one swig, he returned to his laptop.

On a whim, he signed onto his Internet access account and brought up a high school reunion search site. As dumb as they might seem to most people, Noah found these sites to be helpful when locating old friends. He typed in Willow’s name, entered her age as thirty-five and began searching. No Willow Brown listing existed for Vermilion County. He searched further back year by year, each time with an older current age for Willow, stopping when he reached sixty-five.

“She can’t be that old. Maybe she’s not from Hoopeston.”

Noah’s mind returned to his conversation with Varney. He should go back to Willow’s pond for some good pictures. She had granted permission to photograph the pond, although she
had
insisted on being present. Still, a quick visit wouldn’t do any harm. He would park in the harvested fields west of the woods and attempt to locate a trail that led to the pond. The late afternoon sky was cold-air clear. He’d have time to get into position and take advantage of the soft early evening light.

His eyes strayed to Willow’s photo.

“Hope you don’t mind.”

Thirty minutes later Noah spotted the beginning of a path right where he had hoped. He rolled the Dakota to a stop on the grassy strip between the plowed fields and the woods.

The narrow track through the woods was hard to follow; it appeared to be a deer path, the quickest way to summertime meals in the cornfields. After about ten minutes, he saw light through the trees ahead as he neared the pond. He arrived on the west shore, where Daisy the deer had been. He worked his way up the shore toward the rock ledge, stopping when a hundred feet or so away from it.

Stunning light illuminated the dead calm surface of the pond. Clear, deep blue sky contrasted with the bright sun at treetop level behind him. Conditions would be perfect for the next thirty minutes as the sun sank. The woods’ vibrant remaining leaves glowed, but didn’t overpower. No twittering of birds disturbed the quiet, which Noah found peculiar. He took a long, deep breath, savoring smells of wet marsh grass and stone, and wished he didn’t need to work. He would like to just sit here and enjoy the peaceful energy.

Nevertheless, duty called. He extracted the big digital camera and the tripod from the case and assembled them. He started to follow a short path to a little beach, but thought better of it and dropped the tripod to the ground right where he stood, among some hemlock trees. For several minutes he studied scenes on the camera preview screen, changed angles, experimented with f-stops and exposures, until he arrived at the proper settings and view. As his finger sat on the shutter, ready to click the first picture, a commotion rose in the distance.

At first, there was a fluttering sound, and then something heavy rustled through dry leaves. Two blue jays shot through the trees and blasted across the pond, low to the water. A burst of barking exploded in the quiet, and then Shadow the black Lab ran into view, careened across the rock ledge and made a long, graceful leap into the water.

I’m in trouble.

Willow wouldn’t be far behind. The gloom around the pine trees would conceal him, but he stood in a pile of dry leaves that would crackle at his slightest move. He hoped Shadow kept thrashing the water.

Songbirds twittered and a sweet feminine laugh drifted across the pond. Gooseflesh ran up Noah’s back at the sound, and yesterday’s strange feelings returned. His heart beat a little faster, not from fear of discovery, but at the prospect of seeing Willow.

She appeared at the opening in the trees, with birds whirling in circles around her tiny form. Captivating, she wore a full-length white robe, her cheery face framed by a broad hood. The garment hung loose on her small frame, the belt carelessly tied. She glided over to the edge, revealing glimpses of bare legs. The white robe presented blinding contrast to the darkening trees; all else faded to drabness. The way her face reflected the robe’s luster, her skin seemed to glow.

Willow laughed again as Shadow paddled about, a relaxed, giggling laugh. “You sure stirred things up,” she shouted to the dog. He paddled his way to a stone beach below her and climbed out, following a narrow path cut in the rock. The dog shook from tip of nose to tip of tail, showering the ledge, the birds and Willow, who laughed again and threw back her hood, at the same time speaking over her shoulder. “How’s the water?” She reached for the belt, untied it and dropped the robe, revealing her nude little figure.

“Oh, wow!” Noah whispered.

Willow stretched unashamed in preparation for exercise. Noah’s vantage point was fabulous, except he couldn’t move. He didn’t dare try to leave.

Besides, he didn’t want to leave.

I should have warned her I was here.

I’m not exactly harming her … I guess.

Jeez, with her temper, if she catches me, I’m a dead photographer.

While the rational part of Noah’s mind debated what to do, another part of his consciousness watched Willow’s every move, spellbound. She had a gymnast’s physique, with broad, powerful shoulders and arms that displayed sleek muscles. Firm pectorals spread across her chest, giving perfect support to her broad breasts, which though as wide as the muscles beneath, protruded little. A long torso ended at her moderate waist and tight belly, which displayed a sweet womanly roundness. Hips that flared slightly fashioned a charming curved transition to sturdy thighs. Short legs with muscular calves emphasized her tiny feet. She was at once feminine, yet brawny.

She’s so perfect.

I should feel guilty about this. So why am I … lighthearted? Or is it lightheaded?

The beautiful image before him so enthralled Noah that he nearly missed a most curious anomaly. The robe lay in a pile at Willow’s feet on the rock ledge yet the white glow remained on her face, and the soft radiance spread down her neck and across her upper chest. It must be reflected sunlight. He turned toward the sun for a moment, missing Willow’s dive off the ledge. She swam a long time underwater, sank deeper for a moment, and then shot straight up and burst through the surface amid a shower of spray and a loud buzz—and continued into the air and hovered, facing Noah, ten feet over the water. Two pairs of gossamer wings had appeared behind her and vibrated with a soft drone.

Blessed be the Goddess!

Noah’s legs wobbled. Willow remained erect and lifted her arms straight out to her sides. The palms of her hands glowed with white light. She dropped her arms to her sides and then raised them again. The water below gurgled and large bubbles formed and burst, each releasing a glowing cloud of vapor that coalesced into a distinct luminous ball. She spun slowly in the air, turning full circle twice as the globes rose and spiraled around her. When her back faced him, Noah could see the wings were no trick or apparatus.

Willow’s merry laugh sounded in the silence, and then she pitched forward and dove into the water, the wings folding flat against her back. She swam underwater this way and that for fifty feet or so. The balls of light followed every move, until she emerged from the water and soared into the air above the treetops with a loud buzz. She hesitated, looking across the forest for a few moments, and then twirled and plunged toward the water to sweep along inches above the surface, her body now held horizontal, arms at her sides.

Noah’s stomach lurched as he followed her roller coaster course through the air. His hands shook and grew clammy.

Please stop flying.

The lights and the birds formed a living escort that flew alongside, above and below Willow as she flew a circuit about the pond. Near the ledge, she slowed, shifted to an erect position and dropped feet first into the water. She swam quietly on her back, an occasional wingtip peeking through the surface. She spoke softly to the birds, which had landed on the rock nearby.

Noah was having difficulty breathing. He glanced at Shadow still standing on the ledge. The dog was looking directly toward Noah with his nose in the air, sniffing, ears erect. As he watched, Shadow’s tail drooped. He seemed about to bark.

Don’t!

Willow pulled herself erect in the water, her eyes scanning the banks of the pond. She tilted her head, listening. Noah held his breath as her gaze swept over his position. Satisfied, she whistled to Shadow and motioned for him to join her, which he did, hitting the water with a tremendous splash. That moment would have been perfect for Noah to turn tail and run, but instead he watched this mysterious woman and her dog paddle about beside the ledge. Each ball of light dissipated and vanished.

Damn! The camera auto shutoff! It can wake the dead.

How did I set the timer? For ten minutes? Twenty?

Please, Goddess, let it be twenty.

Willow swam a few more minutes, then climbed out and walked up the narrow rock path to the ledge, Shadow following close behind. Her wings appeared to be like a dragonfly’s, but hung loose down her back, spread about half open. They were transparent and glistened with water droplets. Willow spoke to Shadow while they climbed, words Noah couldn’t catch. As soon as they reached the ledge, the big dog again shook nose to tail, showering Willow.

“Two can play that game,” she said, and she vibrated her wings for a few seconds, showering the dog in turn. He barked, and her sweet laughter floated across the water.

Noah smiled at their antics and fought off a giggle. Willow picked up the robe and dried her face and hair as she left, leaving her body and wings to dry in the air. She showed no discomfort, despite the fifty-degree air temperature, and could have been out swimming on a summer day for all she appeared to care. She turned toward the path. Shadow as usual bounded ahead.

Noah found her rear view quite charming … even with wings.

I wish you would stay longer
.

At that moment, Willow stopped and turned halfway towards the pond, listening again, head inclined. Her wings rose, twitching slightly. After a few seconds, she turned away and disappeared into the trees. Her voice rose in singing for a few seconds then all sign of her faded. The birds left, the water stilled, and the pond returned to slumber. Noah’s buoyant heart sank into shadow as well.

Five seconds later, the camera shut off with a whir and a beep.

She has wings!

Noah stumbled through the woods. He had packed the equipment in record time, taking no pictures, anxious to get away from the pond, blood rushing to his head. Leaves rustled under his feet, silencing the already lazy crickets. Gathering gloom hid the trail from his searching eyes. The camera bag caught in the brush and wrenched his shoulder. An unseen root jammed his toe and he fell forward, landing on hands and knees. He picked himself up and went on, cursing the root, the trail, the mud on his hands, and the dark.

Dragonfly wings!

The air changed. Soft aromas of wet leaves and wood became the tang of fresh turned earth. He burst into the open at the plowed field where he had parked the truck. It sat at the trailhead to the north. Fleeing the pond, he’d gone astray and followed the wrong path. He trotted along the strip of grass between muddy fields and dense woods. Cold wind blew in his face; he snugged his zipper, and pulled his ball cap down tighter.

She can fly!

He fished the keys from his pocket, unlocked the truck door and swung it open then paused to catch his breath. Well, he’d gotten his wish. He’d seen Willow … more of her than he had hoped.