Lalainya R. Barrett's Short Stories

Original Fairytales by Vikki Anderson

Gnome One’s Home August 20, 2008

Another Original Fairytale by Vikki Anderson

Things hadn’t seemed right for some time, she thought as she sat on a wooden swing in their beautiful garden. “What is the matter?” she whispered in a controlled, yet totally confused voice. “I just don’t understand.” Tears filled her eyes as she continued to move back and forth through the air with no effort on her part. Her mind wandered.

It was only a few short months ago that everything was so happy. Her husband, Joe and she had saved money for such a long time to have enough for a down payment on their dream house. They now had it and this dream was slowly turning into a nightmare.

At first, Joe was a good husband. He would let Stacia do whatever she wanted. She also had a good paying job, so neither of them worried about finances or of renovating their new home.

Stacia decided that the yard needed more color – more flowers! She went to the local nursery and picked out Japanese maple trees, manicured pom pom evergreens, dogwoods, cherry trees and anything she could think of to make their happy home a “happier” place, if that was at all possible.

Joe and Stacia worked in their yard on weekends and after work until it was too dark to see. They got such pleasure from working with Mother Earth who rewarded them with a lovely thick green carpet of grass, free of weeds or damaging bugs. They planted a variety of perennial bulbs. Joe wanted to throw the bulbs in a bucket and just pick out whichever one came out in a random order. Stacia had just read a wonderful article on “Fairies, Feng Shui and Flowers” by Jackie Levin, a well known Feng Shui expert, and wanted to plant the flowers in the bagua for maximum well being and happiness. Their yard and home were truly a safe haven from all outsiders or intruders. Nothing could ever hurt them here, they always thought.

They were trying to have children. Stacia never had an easy time of it, but with prayer and a belief that all things happen for a reason, they were contented in the fact that if it was meant to happen, it would.

Joe was happy to find a bargain, but he was always a very generous man. He then found a shrub at the local nursery that he truly loved. It was summer so the price of shrubs was cut in half. That made him happier.

In the far corner of the yard was a wild spot, as they called it, for no matter how much care was given to that area, it would return to a mildly wild field or meadow like state. The wild flowers had not been planted but they displayed such lovely colors and variety that they didn’t have the heart to pull out one of them!

In the middle of it all, there seemed to be a small mound of dirt with a worn tiny path around it. It was so unusual, yet at the same time it was so beautiful, calming and mysterious. Joe wondered if an animal had made that mound its home.

He dug a large hole in the center of the mound until it was deep enough to house all the roots of his new shrub. He called Stacia to see his new addition to their yard – it was his added touch to their hard work in planting this masterpiece.

“It just doesn’t seem right there,” she said to herself, although she smiled at Joe and said, “It’s great. I love it!”

“It’s perfect,” he replied and walked towards the house. The conversation was apparently over. She followed him into the house and continued to prepare dinner.

Back in the yard, the lonely shrub was witness to several earth fairies shouting furiously at one another. Gnome One yelled, “How can he plant this tree in a gnome’s home without asking our permission? We didn’t even get the chance to move!”

“It’s a shrub,” the small one replied.

“Now we’ll have to homestead another part of this meadow!” Gnome One continued in an annoyed manner.

“The small gnome answered, “It’s a yard.”

“What?”

“This place is called a yard. It is their property. We are the ones who are in the wrong.”

Gnome One was so angry that he couldn’t even speak any more as he paced back and forth in the grass wearing another circular path with his elf-like shoes. “All the gold he has will not suit him any longer. He will become mean and greedy from this day forward.”

“Greedy is it?” said another Gnome who had just decided to join in on the conversation. “Okay then, let’s cast our spells and plant the seeds of greed in his mind.” Gnome Two did just that; he concentrated and said some unfamiliar words with some very strange gestures and at once, the spell had been cast.

That night was a restless one for Stacia. She kept hearing small voices mumbling but thought for sure that it was her imagination since Joe was fast asleep. She eventually got so tired of straining to hear clearly that she dozed off to sleep as well.

The next weeks after the shrub planting were very bizarre at best. Joe complained about everything. The house wasn’t clean enough — even though he had fired the cleaning lady a few weeks prior. The yard was a mess – he didn’t like the flowers anymore. Stacia was in tears for days at a time. He rarely saw her cry because he all at once became a workaholic as well. They didn’t see each other much anymore. It was like living with a roommate with no shared responsibilities or goals.

“We’re spending too much on this house. I think we should sell it and bank the profit. I don’t want to retire to be a pauper.”

“Retire? Joe you’re going to be 30 years old. This is our first house and we’re not selling it. What has gotten into you? Our yard is so beautiful; the yard we both loved — all these renovations and landscaping — we put our souls into this place. What is going on? What has changed?”

“With me? You’re the spendthrift. Buying plants and things for the house all of the time. You don’t think about the future. Whatever you want you just buy it. Well, I won’t be responsible for your whims. Whatever you buy is your responsibility.”

“Have I ever asked you to pay my bills?”

“I should’ve never let you talk me into buying this dump.”

“Talk you into our dream house? Please, Joe, don’t spoil this for us. I love this house. I thought you did too.”

“It’s just a hole we’re sinking money and our lives into and we can’t afford to live here any more!”

Fighting was the normal daily activity at the Stevens household. Name-calling started by his calling her extravagant and she would retort with his being cheap. It wasn’t going anywhere.

Stacia, being a very spiritual and enlightened soul, sought many kinds of help from the universe. She prayed for guidance, went to hypnotherapy sessions for relaxation and visited her astrologer and tarot reader for assurances that things would work out all right. Occasionally, her guidance and answers would make her feel a little better about the situation, but Joe would get her depressed with the reality of his pettiness and verbal abuse.

She was sitting on her swing in the garden by the new shrub. She was crying into the flower garden as Joe worked. He worked longer and longer and she was getting very lonely. “Please help me,” she said out loud, “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why am I being punished like this? I love Joe so much. Why is he treating me this way?”

Three very small, fourth dimensional beings heard her pleas of help. Gnome One took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“I suppose it’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” asked the small gnome.

“It wasn’t her fault about the shrub. She seems to be the one who is suffering the most from the spell.”

Stacia continued, “Please dear God, I need your help. I don’t know what to do. Please help me.”

“It was really his doing. He didn’t even ask us if it were all right to plant this tree in the middle of our house.”

“Shrub.”

Gnome One and Two just sat on a small pebble and kicked the dirt beneath their feet. Smaller pebbles flew in several directions simultaneously. “I suppose the tree is a nice addition to the wood — and if you say shrub, you won’t get any supper tonight!”

Gnome Two replied, “It is lovely, isn’t it? It will bring more trees, uh, shrub fairies into our corner of the yard. Haven’t seen the pretty lass laugh for weeks now. It isn’t her fault, you know.”

All three gnomes looked at each other and decided to remove the cast from Joe because of Stacia’s loneliness and sadness.

Then a mysterious thing happened while the gnomes were removing their belongings from beneath the shrub. The lower tree branches were moving and all of a sudden a light went off in her brain. “Oh no. We’re disturbed a fairy mound. Dear sweet gnomes, I am so sorry for this outrage. We didn’t realize what we had done. Please forgive us. What was he thinking?

In a moment, Stacia had run back to the house with a shovel in his hands. “I will remove this bush from your home and I will promise to replant as many wild flowers as I can. I was planning to put a small pond where fish and frogs and hopefully all sorts of birds and wildlife will be attracted to this spot. May I move this tree?”

“No, my dear,” she heard in a clear voice. She was surprised at the response. She looked around until her eyes briefly focused on three little fairy lights hiding underneath the shrub’s branches.

“Your husband did not honor us or our home — but you do. We will stay with this tree and make it grow tall and straight,” he quickly glanced at the small gnome as if to threaten him not to correct his terminology for the shrub. “It is a good addition to our home. If you keep your word about the pond, fish and frogs, all the birds, squirrels and chipmunks will be a part of this sanctuary. I will even ask a few ducks to make their home here, if you would like that.”

“Did you make my husband Joe act in this bizarre way?

“I’m afraid we did,” said Gnome Two. “I made him feel greed since I thought he was greedy in acquiring our home without cause or regret and I also figured he would then spend no more money on greenery to plant.”

“Will he be all right now?”

“Certainly. I apologize for our actions. We didn’t consider you in this, my dear.”

“Thank you and I too apologize for the way we have disrespected you and your home.”

“Happy Birthday, my dear. May your life be one filled with much happiness and success.”

She took a deep breath and noticed Joe pulling into the driveway. Stacia looked at the gnomes for a minute.

“Go to him. All will be well.”

When she got into the house, Joe was filling up vases with water for the dozens of flowers he had bought her for her birthday.

“Joe?”

“I bought these for your birthday. I hope you like them.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“I am so sorry, Hon. I don’t know why I was nasty to you or telling you that I hated this house. I love it and I love you so much. The finances — there is nothing wrong with them. We are doing fine. Can you ever forgive me?”

“We all do, dear.”

“We?”

She smiled and shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I do have something else to tell you though.”

He looked concerned.

“No, its happy news…we’re having twins!”

He picked her up and swung her around and was so happy. They kissed and hugged and he took her out to the most expensive restaurant in town for her birthday for after all, she did give him a 30th birthday present a few months early.

The gnomes looked at each other and smiled approvingly. They returned to their home; later the small gnomes were hanging out their fourth dimensional laundry on the third dimensional tree branch….uh, shrub branch and thought that this will probably work out very nicely.

The other gnomes went back under the “shrub” into their fairy mound and rested until they were needed to care for the flowers and grasses again.

 

Terrible Times for Trevor The Troll June 26, 2008

Filed under: Elementals, fairies, fairytales, short stories, trolls — lalainya @ 2:53 am

Another original Fairytale by Vikki Anderson

In a clearing far off in a neighboring glen lived Trevor, Twanda, and the twins, Treena and Travis Troll. They were a happy family for the trolls helped the animals of the forest if they were hurt, caught in a hunter’s trap or lost. They did everything that could be done to help the wildlife in their part of the wood. They were especially adept at mixing potions from near-by growing herbs and plants — strong medicine for themselves or the inhabitants of the forest.

Trevor, the husband of Twanda, father to Treena and Travis, was a very strict but fair sort of being, for a troll that is. He was getting on in years and had hoped for some time that the children would leave to get married and start a life in another part of the wood. He only wanted peace and solitude now; funny, although he wanted these things, he never left any one alone and was anything but peaceful. In his old age, he was getting very ornery and nasty.

The children married a few months later and lived near each other in the far side of the glen. Mother Troll would miss their company more than she could imagine; however, Twanda would never stand in the way of anyone’s happiness.

As the years flew by, the children were in trees of their own, and already had a few offspring to show for their married years.

They had all but forgotten home now for their lives were busy with raising the wee ones and making life happy and fun for their families. They had to pass down recipes of their potions and teach them the ways of the wood. Although Treena and Travis visited frequently, one could understand that new families had priorities and the old family structure was waning fast. Mom and Dad weren’t that important any more, but Mother Troll made the best of it and enjoyed a rich, full life with her hobbies in astrology, tarot and crystal therapy and knitting a sweater or two for the cold, winter months. After all, trees were not equipped with heat, so she knitted hats, sweaters, blankets, afghans or whatever was needed.

Twanda tried to talk Trevor into going out in the wood more, make him visit his old friends the animals, and talk to old acquaintances; perhaps even make some new friends, but in complete opposition to her requests, Trevor became a recluse. He didn’t want to do anything but count the crystals he had collected throughout the years, eat and sleep. Sleeping was all right Twanda had decided, but he snored louder and louder every day that she had to find a vacant hole in the tree to get any rest at all! But being the tolerant troll she was, she rarely complained.

For after all, he was 899 years old, quite elderly for a troll, and Twanda felt he was going through mid-life crisis late. Nasty, annoying, always criticizing whatever Twanda brought home to try to make their tree a homier place. She was getting used to his complaining so stopped sharing anything with him. Even her own thoughts remained hers. The love she felt for him had been destroyed throughout the last year but she wanted to do something nice for her husband. After all, most of their married life, he was kind and a good man. It’s just now…

Twanda, was a young woman of 705, still vibrant, had lots of interests and really knew that someday Trevor would be upset that he let these golden years fly by without making an attempt to enjoy them. He had children and grandchildren who thought highly of him. Well, at least they used to when he was a more sociable troll. He had a wife, who was loyal and wanted the best for him, although he would never admit that he needed any help from her or anyone.

Twanda knew what she had to do. She would take his mind off of his age and throw him a wonderful surprise party with all of their family, friends, acquaintances and all the animals of the wood. She tried to conceal the party from her ever-crabby husband because she wanted this to be a special time for him. 900 was a triumph in troll years — a time where he could give up all his responsibility to his children and younger adults to take over his job in life.

For years Twanda had been collecting and polishing unusual and brilliant crystals from the wood. She had a special place for them that only she knew, so the expense of the party did not concern her. She had the means to pay for it. Mrs. Trevor Troll wanted everything to go right with this party. The foliage was ordered from the other end of the forest; the fairies were bringing lovely garland to tie to trees as an enchanting decoration and the flower fairies were going to place a variety of petals in the nearby stream as a continual celebration of his turning into retirement age.

She coordinated the food with the local gourmet chefs — all the best food was to be there including all of Trevor’s favorites: raisin almond muffins, lake weed pie, swamp water punch, ground root salad with moss, algae surprise — everything would be perfect. The entertainment was going to be the local pond inhabitants. The frogs and crickets agreed to play their melodious songs for the evening. Things were really going along quite well, Twanda thought. Won’t Trevor be surprised?

But Trevor, in his senility or ridiculousness, had decided to leave Twanda. He needed time to reflect or be alone, but he knew he wanted to start another life with a younger troll. He left the following note.

To My Wife, Twanda:

You have been my wife for more years than I can remember. I don’t want to remember any more of them with you. You spend crystals like they were water and never gave me any happiness in all of our married years. The kids are grown now and I don’t need to support you any longer. You are more than able to care for yourself. I feel all of this is your fault. You should’ve taken care of me better and agreed to listen to my every word. Women are supposed to be dominated by men, however, you didn’t allow that, so good-bye, wife. I will try to get another wife unlike you – one who cannot think for herself; one who doesn’t have ideas or put them into practice but one who is docile and able to take and obey orders.

I had given you every chance to repent your sins, but you continuously needed to feel superior to me by planning parties (yes, I found out and I wasn’t even going to show up to teach you a lesson). Don’t you think I knew it was just an excuse for you to be the center of attention and spend more money to show others how rich you are? What a ridiculous woman you are. How did I ever think we would be happy together?

If you try to find me, I will leave this wood forever and neither the children nor you will ever hear from me again.

Trevor

Twanda read the letter in disbelief, but waited for Trevor to return that evening. This couldn’t be the truth. She had been nothing but a loyal and accommodating wife, she thought, but according to Trevor this was not the case. She waited and waited for him – but the days turned into weeks, which turned into months and finally a whole year had gone by without any word from him. Eventually she realized that she had never loved him, not really. He was always bossing commands, telling her what to do, ordering her about and treating her like a child. Why did she ever agree to marry such an old troll anyway? She had many other offers from younger, richer trolls. She supposed she had taken pity on him. Her temper elevated as she thought more about the many years she had given herself to an ungrateful troll, even after accepting him as her husband when she had found out that he had cheated continuously on his first wife without her or his children ever suspecting. She thought that perhaps his children from his first marriage should know the truth, but she didn’t wish to hurt them. They had always been so nice to her.

Winter was upon them again. Taking care of the tree alone was difficult, but at least the children would stop by with the grandkids and would bake and laugh, and sing and had many days of fun and adventure. No one ever mentioned Dad or Grandpa ever again. It was as if he never existed. Even hearing rumors that he had taken up with a 400-year old female troll didn’t phase them. Funny, they were much happier without him in their lives.

A knock came to the door. She saw a young neighbor who lived a few oak trees down the lane and asked, “Yes, Trentin? Is everything all right?”

“It’s Trevor,” he had said trying to catch his breath. It was obvious he had been running. “My brother and I found him on the other side of the wood. He was frozen to death in the lake, Twanda. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. Now, do you want any hot cocoa? We don’t want you to catch your death of cold, do we? Such a nice boy. You haven’t been around here much lately. What have you been up to?” she questioned as she showed him into her warm and cozy tree – all her knitted objects scattered carefully around the living quarters. Some of her crystals gleamed in the windows. She had indeed made a happy life for herself. Trentin was glad. “Just remember, dear, we all get what we deserve in the end.”

And life went on, as it should.

Copyrighted 2002 Vikki Anderson. Do not reprint without permission.