160. PSP?

160. PSP?

I made my way back to Teddy Bosk but though it was twilight, before I could enter it, I spotted my parents standing before its arboreal gates. I thought of hiding from them, but it was too late.

“Arley!” cried my mother, who was first to detect me. “We’re here to see you!”

As she floated towards me, her silky hair and iridiscent gown glistened in the dying, pink light of the sun and tiny golden stars fell from her magic wand, turning into dove grey pebbles when they touched the grass. 

“How are you?” asked my father, his bright geen eyes smiling but looking a little worried at the same time as he put an arm round my shoulders and squeezed me.

I wondered how word that I was going to deal with humans had gotten to them so fast.  But that was not what they were there about. Or at least, they didn’t say it was.

“We heard from your sister Fennela that you do nothing but sit here under a tree and dwell on sad ideas all day.”

Ah, so it was through Fennel they’d had news about me. Yes, Fenny had come to the bosk to fetch a Teddy she’d had when she was little. Fennela had just had a baby of her own and she wanted her bear back so her baby could play with it. A little pink bear it was, that smelled like stawberries.  

“Yes. Well…I don’t want you to worry about this. I’m fine, really,” I began to try to reassure them before they decided to do something about me and got any ideas as to just what. My parents’ ideas are more often than not quite ludicrous. One has to be on guard in case it is necessary to act against these extravagant notions.

“We’ve decided that if you don’t want to come back home with us and show some interest in a hobby or become obsessed with something half normal, like Thymian freaks about Egypt and Devin digs into computers and the other stay-at-homes do too, well, you…you can’t stay here by yourself either,” said my mother. “It’s not healthy.”

“If you’re going to be glum all day, we want to know why,” said Dad. “And if it’s because you’re scared of the humans and the future and dreadful things that could happen, well, we have a far more adequate place for you to be worried and nervous at.”

“I’m fine here,” I said. “I’m not alone. I’m surrounded by teddies. They’re sweet company.”

I was trying hard to think of something to say that would drive my parents away before they proposed some outlandish plan that would upset me more than I already was. But I knew there was nothing I could say that would persuade them to leave me be now that they had bothered to come all the way to the bosk for me, and together yet. They can be terribly stubborn and dangerous when they agree to act together. And then, suddenly, they created a circle round us and turned us invisible and inaudible except to us three. This is something they do when they have to talk about something that nobody may overhear. I realized that whatever they had to say to me was more serious than what they usually have to say.

“If you really want to dedícate your life to being scared of everything, at least let that work in favour of the rest of us,” whispered Dad.

“Do it where this can be useful,” nodded Mum, also whispering.

This was new. I had no idea what they meant. How could being down at the mouth be any good for anyone? And then I got my answer.

“Join the Frightened Brethren,” suggested Dad.

“The what? The…the who?” I asked whispering too.

“The I-told-you-sos.”

“Shh! Speak more softly, Obie. Your father means the Ominous Augurers.”

“The Watcherouts,” nodded Dad.

“The Doleful Predicters,” breathed Mum, "the Prudent Serpents."

“The Eyes in the Dark,” added Dad, “and the Ears in the Walls.”

“The Invisible Hands,” continued Mum.

“Intelligence,” winked Dad.

“Our spies,” explained Mum.

“The PSP!” hissed Dad. 

I couldn't tell if he had said something or just made a noise. 

"Was that a word or a noise?"

"That's the idea. Nobody should be able to tell."

“I’ve never heard of…these… people?” I wasn’t even sure they were refering to people. “I thought our spies were the moles.”

“Nobody has ever heard of these people,” said Mum. “Or at least, hardly anyone has.”

“Nobody is supposed to,” said Dad. “They don’t like to be heard of. Neither seen nor heard is one of their mottoes.”

“But…they exist? Whoever you are talking about?”  

“Oh, yes!” said Mum and Dad in unison, nodding at each other knowingly. “Just as much as you exist. And you might want to join them.”

“I?”

“They were normal fairies who lived among us once and then they decided to disappear,” said Dad. "Or go about seeming to be what they are not."

“Normal, what one says normal, I don’t know that they were ever that normal,” said Mum eyeing Dad for confirmation.

“Come, come! Let’s leave it at that they were normal. They were normal, Titania.”

“Oh. I would like to say I see, but I don’t,” I said.  “Okay. It’s not like I feel very curious, but I’ll need to know exactly what we´re talking about if I’m to consider doing whatever you are suggesting I do.”

But what was I saying? Why was it that this day everyone had plans for me? And why was I playing along with my parents’ plans as if I felt motivated by them? I certainly didn’t.

Dad bent down on one knee and with a broken branch there was on the ground drew a sort of map there. An X marked a spot I had to go to.

“You have to go here. You have to be invisible when you go. Then you have to dig a hole in the sand and whisper within it. Nothing grows here, so what you say here, stays here. You whisper into the hole and then you cover the hole up. Just say, `Siblings, this is Arley Fitz Oberon and Titania and my folks say I need you.’ Those are the magic words. Then cover that hole. If they are interested, they’ll come for you.” 

“And if they are not?”

“You forget about this and come back home to us.”

“And be done with all your nonsense,” added Mum.

“His fears. His fears, dear. To him they are real,” said Dad sadly.

“Of course they are real! But being silly about them is nonsense.”

“Is all this you are saying just nonsense too so I’ll go back home?”

As I said before, one has to be very cautious when my parents become obsessed with obtaining something. Their determination knows no bounds. They will stop at nothing, and their awry sense of humor is legendary. 

"Is this some kind of a joke you are playing on me to see if I will laugh?"

Mum and Dad shook their heads vehemently. Their lips were clamped tight. And then, both my parents vanished. But not before Dad had scratched out what he had drawn on the ground and taken the stick with him so it wouldn’t talk.