How To Find Your Way in Minced Forest

Write Preface in the search space below right to get to the Preface.To go to the table of contents, write table of contents in the search space below right. To read a chapter, write the number of the chapter in the search space. To read the tales in Fay Spanish, go to cuentosdelbosquetriturado.blogspot.com. Thank you.

Friday, 15 March 2024

279. The Second Moonly Letter

 279. Heather’s second letter to Arley, which tells how during the Violet Moon the presence of a fox fairy was made known.

Dearest brother,

I was in Minced Forest the other day taking some winter food to the animals there. When I was about to head for home, I saw a slight red fox with a very small kitten in its mouth.

                


              

I didn’t think twice. Having been giving out winter food, I supposed the fox was hungry and was about to eat the kitten. I impulsively struck the fox on the head with my basket so it would let the kitten go. To my surprise, it vanished into thin air. And the kitten began to yell at me. In a second it had turned into a very little fay girl.

“Why are you interfering? The fox was taking me to my dollhouse,” said the little girl. “Who are you anyway?”

“I’m Heather. Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m Neferedi, runt of the Atshebies. Do you know who we are?”

“Of course,” I said, “I’m your aunt. I’m  your father Ati’s sister.”

“Will you take me to the dollhouse then? Cathsheba’s Nook it used to be. Do you know where that is?”

“I do. Are you lost?”

“Of course not. I cut my foot and I don’t want to limp all the way there. It would hurt. And I’ve been warned not to fly in a forest thick with branches. Not yet, at least.”

“Let me have a look at your foot,” I said.

She did, I did, and I said, “I can heal that.”

“I’d rather my nanny cat Pedubastis fixes this. Don’t touch it.”

I put the child in my basket and walked to Cathsheba’s Nook, which was close by, and there was Pedubastis with the other five Atshebies.

“Why didn’t you just call for me, instead of bothering this young lady?” asked the cat.

“She’s my Aunt Heather. Everyone says Heather is someone who  doesn’t ever  mind being bothered. You know what? She’s not that good. She whacked Leonado and he vanished. What do you think has become of him?”

“Nothing. If anyone knows how to take care of himself it’s that fox.”

When I got back home, I entered through the kitchen and left the basket there, and took off my shoes and put on some slippers. And I noticed there was a fire crackling and went to see where that was, and I went to the living room, and there, next to the blazing fireplace, I learned what had become of Leonado. All curled up on a cushion in an armchair was the red fox, rubbing at a lump on his forehead with his paw.

“This one is going to sue me,” I thought. So I said to the fox, “You can’t pretend I did that to you. I only grazed you with a wicker basket. And behind.”

And the fox turned into someone who, I suspected, answered to the name of Beaurenard Flynn. Do you know who that is Arley? We have seen him before, though we´ve never been introduced. A fay lad who always dresses nattily and wears period clothing. This time eighteenth century stuff, silk and satin and complete with the lace at the throat and a stiffly starched ponytail bow holding tawny hair that was in an unusual mess. Perhaps the wicker basket had uncombed him. Anyway, the last thing he looked was dangerous. Overwhelmed by the circumstances was more like it. But you know how it is with fox fairies. People are scared of them. Wary would be an understatement. So I am saying scared. 

“You’re right,” said the fox sprite, exonerating me, “I did this to myself when I leapt away from you and knocked my head on a branch. I’m not here to blame you. Only for some ice for the lump and-”

“Nonsense,” I said. “It’s snowing and freezing outside. You want for ice less than an eskimo.”

“Did I say ice? I meant tincture of arnica,” he smiled, unduanted.

I guessed he was testing me to see if I was easy to fool or not.

“No need,” I said, pointing a finger at the lump and making it vanish.

“Ah, you’re right again! What I really want is to have a word with you.”

“I won’t be held to account for striking you or for what came of it. I thought you were about to eat a kitten. I didn’t know you were one of the fox fairies. I took you for a real fox.”

“Ah, am I used to that!  And you do not trust me now that you do know I’m fay either. You are like everyone else. You are wary of anything foxy.”

I nodded.

“You are cleverer than we are and that makes you unsafe to have dealings with, Fox. That’s what people think you foxes are. Nice to look at, but too clever not to be dangerous to know.”

“Thank you,” said the fox fairy. “You’ve just said the only two nice things anyone ever says about us.”

Everyone knows that fox fairies are cute and clever but few make friends with them. Perhaps it is not their fault, but most people don’t like to be with people who always get ahead of them. It may be that this is unfair to them, but it is the way it is.

“It’s alright,” smiled the fox again. “I’m used to being mistrusted. We don’t even trust each other. Not much.” 

“You mostly keep to yourselves. Why are you here trusting me?” I asked. “I could call for help and have you kicked out of here. This is my rightful ideal home. If I asked it to kick you out, it would.”

“Don’t do that. Because I am the best help you count with.  And you are going to have to trust me,” he said.

And then he tells me this peculiar story that I didn’t know whether or not to believe at first but ended up swallowing entirely.

“When back at the Dullahan home Cybela the Matchmaker heard Alpin say he wanted you for a wife, she was dead set against this. She told her husband and he told your grandfather and he told your grandmother Divina and she told her sister Celestial. Everyone knows how stubborn and unwaiveable Alpin is when something gets into his head, and how he finagled the Branna-Richearth and Fisfin-Clepeta weddings, so they decided you needed protection. And the Lady Celstial told your grandpa in no uncertain terms that she would do something about this if he didn’t. And you know that AEternus hates nothing as much as someone else doing what he doesn’t, especially if it is Celestial. So your grandfather had Mylor summon me. But it wasn’t Mylor, it was AEternus himself in person who told me I had to follow you everywhere about and make sure neither Alpin nor anyone inconvenient got to you.”

“What? Does that mean they don’t think I can defend myself?”

“Well, yes, I suppose it could. Don’t be offended. Maybe it only means everyone is scared of Alpin, now that your brother is no longer supervising  him, poor fellow, that can't have been easy,  though I won’t go into that now, let's  just say that we are all too overconcerned about those we care for. If I were you, I would just think of this as a sign that we, that is, your grandparents, love you.”

“I will need to think this over before I decide what to make of it,” I said.

“Yes. Well, don’t take too long and don’t be too hard on anyone. The case is I was already present when Quentin Treadfaster materialized before Alpin in the fourth fairy ring and told him he was with you to discourage the Unchangedling from pressing his suit. I would have had to do something if Quentin hadn’t.”

“He was faster than you were?” I laughed.

“Well, he is a Treadfaster, isn’t he? And they never thinks twice. Maybe not even once. Ah, I shouldn’t have said that! Quentin is not any more stupid than most other people. Am I sounding supercilious? I don’t want to. I probably think too much. I won’t say more about Quentin. He’s perfectly normal. But up till now it was your ferocious sister Thistle who fended Alpin off, wasn’t it?”

“And it won’t be, because she will be busy entertaining Quentin. And that is why everyone is anxious about me?”

“I just thought that…well, after following you around for a while, and it’s not that I’d rather sit here by the fire than be sitting out there among the daffodils on  the hard as a rock Binky Mound, which is the only place where it isn’t freezing, waiting for someone or something to threaten you, although I do… prefer to sit in here, not harass you invisibly myself…well, I’ve made a mess of this sentence. I will start over. I think you have a right to know you are accompanied and not just ignore you are being haunted by someone totally invisible, no matter how good my purpose.”

“So you’ve been stalking me?”

“I don’t like the way that verb sounds. However, I’m good at going unnoticed, am I not? I mean, you never noticed I – or anyone - was following you. You didn’t did you?”

“No. Not at all. Am I supposed to approve of that?”

“No. But now is when I have to ask you for a favor, reputedly kindhearted and compassionate lassie. It’s not over. Your grandfather wants me here. If you tell him you want to be rid of me, he will boot me immediately but just as fast send someone else to watch over you who will never tell you he or she is there. I’m being honest and transparent as crystal clear water with you. And, frankly, I prefer this job to any other I might find myself having to do if you get me fired. So please don’t. That’s the favor.”

“Nonsense! You're speaking nonsense again,” I said. “Nobody here needs to work. If you are doing this, it’s because you want to. But you are right about one thing. My grandfather is likely to foist someone else on me.”

“Some silent hypocrite,” nodded the fox lad, “mute as a mortal fish, never doubt it.”

And now I am aware that I am being followed everywhere by Beaurenard Leonado Flynn, because I don’t have what it takes to get him into trouble with Grandpa. He has the tact to always makes himself visible when we are alone, but turns totally imperceptible when anyone else shows up, so even Thistle doesn’t know about his presence. I can’t bear to think of the knock she would give him if she did know, or how she and Quentin between them both would attempt to make phosphatine out of this rather unbelligerent-looking person, who may be a complicator but doesn't seem to be aggressive. Only you am I telling about him. And I am telling you because given your new profession you probably know everything already. So Beau has installed himself in my house, but fortunately he is very discreet and causes no trouble. By trusting me with his secret, he has made his life somewhat more comfortable, and I can’t help suspecting that he told me he was following me because this would be the result of that and not because it was the right thing to do. I hope I haven’t been fooled. But since none of us can tell if we are being followed about or not by infallibly cautious invisible presences, I prefer to think his arguments make sense and want to feel I made the right decision when I gave him permission to haunt me and my home. 

By the way, he says you are acquainted with his brother Radley. He said that just now, as I am writing this letter. He wants me to tell you this, because he hopes it will be a good reference. Don’t think of coming here to raise a fuss, please. We are doing fine. He has just said I need not ask you not to do that, because where you are, you know everything that is going on and will know he means well. Well, that’s this moon’s  news, brother of mine. May all go well with you and us all back here too, I hope.       

Lots of LOVE from Heather.

P.S. I am attaching a recipe for Date Filling and Icing. I made for Little Mauel's monthly birthday a sponge cake filled and iced with this cream. Perhaps someone will want to try it.

DATE FROSTING

Two thirds cup cream

Two thirds cup sugar

Two egg yolks

one half  cup chopped dates

one half teaspoon vanilla

one half cup chopped  toasted almonds

Mix the cream, the sugar, the egg yolks and the dates

Cook over low heat, stirring constantly,  until the mixture thickens somewhat

Remove from heat and add the vanilla  and the nuts to the mix.

Cool until thick enough to spread.


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About Me

My blogs are Michael Toora's Blog (dedicated to my pupils and anyone who wants to learn English and some Spanish), The Rosy Tree Blog (dedicated to RosE), Tales of a Minced Forest (dedicated to fairies and parafairies), Cuentos del Bosque Triturado (same as the former but in Fay Spanish), The Birthdaymython/El Cumplemitón (for the enjoyment of my great nieces and great nephews and of anyone who has a birthday) and Booknosey/Fisgalibros (for and with my once pupils).