"There!!! There it is again!!! Do you hear it?!?!?!"
"No, Emma, we can't hear it.
Maybe you need some rest. Take a few days off of work. With your moving and renovating this house and working full time, you're under a lot of stress. It's no wonder you are hearing things."
"I can't take time off of work and what I am hearing is not an auditory hallucination. The more time I take off, the more stressed I'll be, thinking about all of the work piling up."
"Well, then you can stress yourself out all you want to or relax. Either way, the doctor already called you off for the rest of the week. You might as well enjoy it. Get some rest and call us if you need anything. Call me about dinner. It's Thursday at six. Bring a side."
I heard the door close and there I was, sitting on my couch, alone.
And again, clear as a bell, there was the laughing.. It was more of a giggle, one that went on and on.
In the strangest way, the laughing reminded me of crystal, pure leaded crystal wine glasses when they meet during a toast...Hearing the laughter alone was crazy enough, but now I'm sitting here trying to analyze the voice I hear laughing. Maybe I do need some time off.
Something fell and broke. The sound came from the kitchen.
Oh no, there's my favorite wine glass, shattered all over the floor.
I'm not sure how this happened. I left this glass inside my dishwasher. There's no way it could have ended up broken on its own. Is there someone in here with me? Could this be a haunting?
Could all of these renovations I'm having done be the root cause of it and somehow awakening spirits?
There!!! I heard that voice again! It mocked me...
I heard "Ghosts?!?!" followed by a fit of laughter and giggles. Maybe my sister is right. I am overworked. I could use a few days to myself.
"Maybe you need a drink." There it was...the tiniest, but clearest voice..."but you have no glass!"
Again the little voice with the sound of wind chimes broke out into a hysterical fit of laughter.
I almost started laughing myself. To hear voices is one thing. I wasn't going to start talking to them or laugh with them as the case may be.
I'm losing my mind.
I wasn't quite sure what to do next.
OK, maybe I should try talking to it. It may help me figure out how crazy I really am. But still, the broken glass. I know I didn't make that up. I'm staring at it right now.
I grabbed the broom and the dustpan and began cleaning up shards of glass laying everywhere. I wasn't sure if I should be scared. If I was scared, was I more scared of finding out it's all in my head?
"Hello?"
silence
"Hello?"
I heard the buzz of the refrigerator, the hum of the washing machine in the washroom, a random car passing by but nothing else.
It's just as well that I didn't hear anything. A nice relaxing drink sounds wonderful about now. I bought a bottle of bourbon a few days ago and haven't had the time to enjoy it. Now was a good of time as any.
I remember a drink my grandparents used to make. They mixed about an ounce of bourbon with some homemade ginger syrup, a squeeze of fresh lemon juice, a half an ounce of triple sec and filled the rest of the glass up with mineral water. Sometimes, they even used some fresh mint which was calming and refreshing.
As I grabbed the bottle, something began to buzz around my head, the size of an overgrown bee. It was moving too fast. I couldn't tell what it was. Amazingly the bottle stayed in tack as it slid out of my hand and landed on the table. I backed up and watched this flying little creature buzz erratically all over the room before hitting a wall and falling to the ground.
I slowly approached the clump of something on the floor with a newspaper I had grabbed and rolled up, just in case I needed a make-shift flyswatter."Oh my head." said a bell like voice coming from the clump on the floor.
The thing was talking to me.
"What are you?" I whispered, approaching in disbelief.
"I think I'm drunk." said the little voice. "There's no other essplanayshon."
"What?!?" Not only was I hearing voices and seeing things. Now they are talking back to me and they are drunk. Where did I put that doctor's number my sister gave me? Thoughts of getting drunk myself seemed very inviting right now.
"I need some water." The voice chimed.
Why not. I'll play along. I can always call the doctor later, when my breakdown is complete.
I opened a bottle of water and poured some of the cold water into the cap. It was all I could think of although it was still a little big for the object on the ground.
I knelt down and watched the little clump of a being unfold. First came the wings, spreading out like tiny little stained glass windows. They sparkled even in the little light that shone through the dining room window. Then her little head lifted crowned with golden locks that were almost as long as she was big. She stood up shakily and began to drink.
What a beautiful little creature. I was in a state of shock and awe. All I could do was stare at her in wonder. Fairies did exist.
"What are you looking at? This is all your fault!" Her little face was twisted in anger.
"Excuse me? What are you talking about?" As if I wasn't confused enough already, things just kept getting stranger.
"You! You brought the bottle home and now I'm stuck here in this miserable place with you. And my heads hurts." She put her hand to her head as if the emphasize that fact even more. "I want my forest!" Hiccup
"What bottle? What are you talking about? How are you stuck here?"
"My tree. They cut down my tree. I followed it. I want to go home." Her voice got softer and softer and before I knew it, she was fast asleep. For a tiny creature, her snores came loud and strong. I couldn't help but laugh.
The poor little thing, she must have hit her head pretty hard. She wasn't making any sense.
I carefully scooped her up and found and a soft silk scarf that I folded around her and the little being slept.
I made the bourbon drink with ginger and it went down smoothly and surprisingly fast.All of a sudden I felt pretty much the same and drifted off until the beams of the days first light danced across the bedroom.
The erratic buzzing started up again and instinctively I went to swat it away, almost hitting it. The night before quickly came back to my memory.
"Hey, little fairy, be nice."
"I hate you. Take it back to the store."
"Whoa! What are you talking about?"
"The bottle. I want to go back home."
"Which bottle, little one?" It's amazing how fast one adapts to incredible circumstances. Here I am talking to a fairy like it was an every day occurrence, trying to calm her down.
"The bourbon."
"Bourbon?"
"Yes. I will make your life miserable until you take me back. I promise you."
With that, there was a whirlwind of buzzing as I heard glass breaking in the distance.
I couldn't exactly return the bottle since I had opened it last night. Maybe if I called the store, they could be of some help. I fished the receipt out of my wallet and called the number.
I had no idea what I was going to say as I listened to it ring. Suddenly a deep male voice was asking how he could help me.
"Yes, sir, I purchased a bottle of bourbon from you a couple days ago..." my voice trailed off..
"OK and.." his voice demanded that I finish my business on the phone so he could move on with his day.
"I am having a slight problem with it."
"Call the distributor or the distillery. There's nothing I can do for you." and with that the line went dead.
The fairy laughing began again. She must be getting drunk off the bourbon. I might have to find a way to hide the bottle from her until I can figure out what to do. How mean can a fairy actually get if one were to hide her bourbon? Is that something I wanted to find out?
I grabbed the bottle and there was only a web site address on it but it took me no time at all to find a number. I talked to several reps asking each one if they knew of any problems with bottles sold recently. I didn't go into any detail. It was best to remain as vague as I could.
All of a sudden a kindly old voice was on the line telling me she understood.
"Do you, really?" I asked suspiciously.
"Yes, my dear. You needn't say a word. Our buyer found the most wonderful deal on oak barrels. They came from a beautiful forest that used to grow not too far from here. There's a beautiful brand new mall sitting there now. It's just as new as it was when they built it, years ago. No stores have moved in quite yet. The oak trees came to us and were used to age our bourbon. Years passed before things began happening. I'm sure by now, you may have the tiniest inkling of what I'm talking about. The old oak tree was home to many forest creatures, some more mystical than others.
Those mystical ones had nowhere to go, so they followed what was left of their tree straight out to the distillery. Apparently there's a few out there that followed the oak's essence in the bottles of our bourbon. You were one of those lucky ones."
That was quite a story. I stood there holding the phone, once again staring off into space in a state of amazement and bewilderment.
"So, what do I do? Your fairy wants to come home."
"Oh, we don't want them back. They cause way too many problems."
"What? So what am I supposed to do? She is breaking every glass in my house in a fit of rage."
"Our recent change in policy dictates that we can send you a refund for your purchase price but you must dispose of the bottle on your own."
Somehow, I didn't see this ending well.
"Isn't there any way you can help me out?"
"Well, there is a way that I have heard about.. It's a way you can safely use all of your bourbon in a short amount of time. Once the bourbon's used for a legitimate reason (meaning you can't dispose of it down your drain or drink yourself into a stupor.), then the fairy will fade into her own fairyland. ......
You must make a drink, a sandwich, a main course and a dessert all using your magical
"That sounds easy enough." I grimaced; cook and please an otherworldly king to rid my self of another otherworldly creature. I'm sure this kind of thing happens every day... "How will I know if it meets the Oak Kings approval? How do I find him?"
"Make the dishes and he will come."
"..and I will know it meets his approval how?"
"I really don't know. I've only heard rumors about all of this anyhow. I wish you luck and happy cooking. Try not to waste too much of the bourbon though, if you experiment with recipes. There's only so much you can throw away before there are certain consequences. Don't ask what they are, just know, it won't be pleasant."
I thanked the lady on the other line and set about finding some amazing bourbon recipes; but first, I had some glass to clean up.
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