Chapter 4: Secrets

            I woke to the smell of freshly cooked pancakes.  I sat up in bed, and looked around the room. A lump in Sylvia’s bed proved that she was still asleep. Looking down, I realized I still wore the clothes from yesterday: dirt-stained jeans and a blue t-shirt. I groaned.

            I jumped out of bed and walked over to my suitcase, only to remember that I did not pack any clothes. Sighing, I opened the huge closet in the room.

            I gasped. Inside, there were multiple racks of clothing, most of which were red. The racks went from the left side of the closet to the right, but if you walked past the clothes in the first rack, you would find more racks and more clothes behind.

            Silently, I shuffled through the clothes and managed to find faded blue jeans, a red t-shirt, and a white sweatshirt.

Changing quickly, I shook Sylvia awake and briefly explain the mega-sized closet. She squealed with glee at the thought of a never-ending closet of clothes. Jumping excitedly out of bed, she dived into the closet and came out with handfuls of clothing.

“Sylvia, you can’t wear all that,” I said, pointing to her massive pile of clothes. “Hurry up and choose an appropriate amount, or else the breakfast will get cold!”

Frowning, she dived back into the racks. Five minutes later, she came out wearing white skinny jeans and a puffy red sweater. Smiling, she ran out the door and led the way downstairs and into the kitchen.

When I entered the kitchen, there were no happy pancakes sitting on the table. Instead, there was Aunt Helena slapping the insides of a cabinet.

“You beast! You foul creature! Get out of my house this instant!” Aunt Helena continued to slap around the cabinet until she noticed us staring. She slammed the cabinet shut.

“Aunt?” I frowned.

“Oh? Yes, that. It was a…” her faced scrunched up a bit, as if she was thinking hard, “A fly, yes, a fly, that’s all.” her faced straightened out as her eyes narrowed. “Did you leave the window open?”

“N-No,” I stammered. This woman was creepy. Something was up with her. “No.”

A quick smile lit her face as she scrambled for duck tape and taped the cabinet shut.  Letting out a breath of relief, she said, “Come in and sit down.”

We did so. And as we sat and watched, our Aunt Helena bustled around the room and hastily made some pancakes. Flipping them onto a plate, she shoved them into the center of the table and whipped around the room again, handing each of us a plate, a knife, and a fork. Immediately after, butter and syrup was placed on the table. It was then that our aunt finally sat down and we started eating.

Eating in front of Aunt Helena was nerve wracking. Don’t you just hate it when people watch you eat? And that nervous jumpy feeling you get? Well, I was getting that feeling, but worse. Aunt Helena was staring at us like she was trying to bore holes in our foreheads. She wasn’t quite glaring, but she had this concentrated look. As if she was trying to figure something out.

“Aunt Helena, staring at us isn’t going to help you solve your problem,” I said, sighing. The staring/glaring was starting to bug me.

“Hmm…” she responded, straitening up and making eye contact. “Do you even know what I’m trying to figure out?” she smiled, as if she was thinking of an inside joke.

“Actually, no,” I said, defeated.

She smiled again. “Do you believe in the supernatural, child?”

“No way,” Sylvia burst out, just as I was opening my mouth, “Oh, oops! Was that question only for Evelyn?” She tilted her head and waited for an answer.

“No, dear; I’m open to hear what you think too,” Aunt Helena said, patting her shoulder.

“Well,” Sylvia pondered, “I don’t believe in like wizards and stuff, but I think it would be cool if fairies were for real.”

Aunt Helena nodded, and a hint of a smile pulled at the side of her mouth. “And what about you, Evelyn?”

“Me? Well, I don’t believe, but I do think it would be cool,” I said.

“Interesting,” Aunt Helena said, and then she stood up and stretched, “Today’s Saturday, so you may do whatever you like around the house. Just make sure that when you go outside, you wear red.”

I watched as she walked out of the kitchen, frowning.

***

“What do you want to do?” Sylvia asked me as we sat in our room.

“Well,” I said, “I’m gonna take a look at that thick journal I found at our house, and then explore this place.”

Sylvia nodded, “I’m going to look for a library,” she said, walking out the door.

I shrugged and got the fat journal, opening it on the bed and beginning to flip through it, looking for something interesting.

There were no page numbers, just pages full of slanted script. I flipped through the book five times, but found nothing that caught my eyes. Just words. I decided to start fresh. Turning to the first page, I began to read the words.

They’re real, they are. I touched one. It was sitting on my window one day, with wings of brown and dull gray clothes. I tried to slap it away. It bit me. My finger began to swell as I watched the creature fly away. No one believed me when I told them. I saw the creature again as I was about to sleep, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

I closed my eyes and thought. Strange… I did not know whom the journal belonged to…yet. Frowning, I slammed the book shut.

Stuffing it back into my faded crimson suitcase, I walked out the door and went to look for Sylvia.

            I wandered around the second floor, looking for any sign of a bright red sweater which was my sister. “Sylvia?” I called quietly. Even so, my voice echoed all around the empty spaces.

            “Evelyn?” a familiar voice called back.

            I followed the voice down the hallway and into a large room filled with 30 foot tall shelves. “Wow…”

            “I know, right?” the voice called out, and I looked near the right side of the room to see Sylvia’s head poking out the side of one of the shelves.

            “Sylvia!” I said, jogging over. “What’cha looking at?”

            “Books,” she snorted, “Duh!”

            I sighed, “What book are you reading?”  

            “This,” she shoved the book in my face.

            “The Guide for Fairy-Seekers,” I read, frowning. “Why are you reading that?”

            “Well,” her voice started to shake, as if she was afraid of what I would think. “Aunt’s question got me thinking, and I decided that I really do wanna see if fairies are real…”

            “That’s stupid,” I said, “Completely stupid. Have you gone out of your mind?”

            “No…” she mumbled. I could see that she was close to crying.

            “Whatever,” I said, determined not to start feeling guilty for raining on her parade. “You can do whatever you want.”

            She smiled brightly, and I groaned for letting myself fall for her act. “Yaay!” she jumped, “I can go see the fairy rings, then? Yes?”

            “Sure,” I mumbled, “Only if you wear red when you go out like Aunt Helena said.”

            “B-but,” she answered, her voice shaking, “The book says I can’t play with the fairies if I wear red!”

            “You just want to see them, right? Wear red!” I was close to shouting.

            “But-“

            “No ‘buts,’ Aunt Helena may be crazy, but for some reason it’s important we wear red, and I think we should listen to her!” I yelled.

            Sylvia dropped the book and ran out of the library and down the hall, sniffling. I stood there and stared down at the book. Slowly, I picked it up.

            Turning to the table of contents, I looked for the words ‘fairy rings.’ Finally, I found the words under a chapter called: Where you can see them.

            Frowning, I opened up to the correct page: page 204. I scanned the pages, looking for anything I should know.

FAIRY RINGS

       A great way to see these beautiful creatures called fairies is to stand in a circle of toadstools. This is also known as a fairy ring. When night falls, fairies come out and dance in these rings, playing all kinds of wonderful music that is pleasing to the ears and will make you want to dance. Fairies love it when you dance and frolic with them. They also cannot see the color red. If you wish to play with the fairies, do not wear any hint of red.

       I froze. And I reread the second to last sentence. They also cannot see the color red. I reread it again and again, wanting the words to disappear and for it to be all a bad dream. Was our Aunt Helena really protecting us from fairies? Impossible, fairies didn’t exist! Shaking my head, I closed the book and carried it with me to my room. Sylvia wasn’t there. I shrugged, not really caring or minding. She had probably gone somewhere else to cry.