Lucy's Feather

A Fairytale

Lady Rosaline

        A late spring breeze swept lightly across the clover field where a young girl was pretending. Today she wasn't Lucy, newly turned seven, today she was the beautiful enchantress Lady Rosaline. Lucy loved fairy-tales and the field of clover stretching across the rolling hills kindled magical fires in her bright imagination.
        She held in her tiny hand a magic wand studded with brilliant stones (small stick) and wore an exquisite gown of white, blue, and gold (stained play clothes). Arrayed in such splendor she turned from the clover field to face the dark woods. Rosaline was far braver than Lucy, who had never entered the small glade behind her house, so as Rosaline she stepped smartly towards the first tree. Looking back at the clover field and seeing its peace and bliss Lucy considered going back. The field had been her kingdom of play as long as she could remember, which was forever by her reckoning, but really only a few years. She was the queen of that realm and it was time to expand, to carry the light of the field into the forest, to stake a clover in the heart of the woods. The woods however were an uncharted edge to her map, a world of unconquered possibilities and magic. Lucy looked once more to her clover field, faced the woods, stepped, walked, and disappeared into the woods.
        After a few hours of wandering through the endless trees Lucy came upon a peculiar site. Most peculiar, odd, probably not real. Hanging from a limb on a low hanging branch, a cage. A cage ordinarily isn't that odd but this particular cage contained a glistening gleaming silver bird.
        �A statue,� Lucy thought to herself, �oh of course it must be a statue. Birds don't come in silver.� This was quickly becoming an established truth in Lucy's young mind. Natural curiosity incited closer inspection, she must touch it. Stepping cautiously forward and extending a slim pale arm she reached towards the cage.
        �Hello there young lady,� the bird sang sweetly to a wide-eyed Lucy. The reality of a talking silver bird was to much for Lucy and so she did what any sensible seven year old would, she fled.
        �Wait!� the caged-bird cried with all the despair of Fantine selling her teeth, �please come back, I need your help.� Lucy halted her retreat and looked back. She considered how pretty the bird was and she knew that pretty things were safe, like flowers and fountains. Besides, the bird was in a cage. Safe. With these comforting assurances the small brave enchantress strode back to the cage.
        �I am the Lady Rosaline and I am at your service pretty bird,� she said, still amazed to be chatting with a bird.
        �Thank you for coming back Lady Rosaline,� began the silver-feathered bird in his sing-song voice,� as you may have noticed I am trapped in this cage. When you have fine flying wings like these,� he flapped his wings lightly,�a cage just won't do.�
        �I will help you,� Lucy promised, unconcerned about the manner the bird came to be trapped in a cage or more importantly why it could talk or had silver feathers.

        ---Silver birds are a rare find indeed. You almost have to be in a magic forest to see one and even there you're more likely to find a four-leaf clover. Lucy didn't know just how lucky she was---

        Lucy stood on the very tips of her toes and reached for the cage. Too high. She just wasn't tall enough yet, perhaps when she turned eight. The bird watched her attempt with a queer expression, head cocked to the side in confusion.
        �Why don't you just fly?�
        �Fly? Girls don't fly silly bird, maybe boys but I've never seen them do it.� The bird considered this for a moment. He looked at the girls wings and then he looked at his.
        �I've got it� he pronounced with great enthusiasm, �you have no feathers! That just won't do... I happen to have more feathers than I can use at the moment, being in this cage and such. You can have one of mine!� The bird then ruffled his feathers until one was released and began floating in the slow rocking fashion of falling feathers. The feather landed softly at Lucy's feet. She bent to retrieve it, which is easy when you stand so close to the ground, and look at it more closely.

        ---Silver birds are, as previously mentioned, quite rare and few know of their existence, fewer still have seen one and no one has ever seen two or seen one twice. Those who do know search for them relentlessly, those who have seen spread tales of their beauty.
        The birds are prized for the mysterious properties of their feathers. There have been men and women who have spent their entire lives in pursuit of the silver bird and its feathers.---

        Lucy held the feather between her fingers and stared wide-eyed at the reflections of light flashing off each strand. Pulling it closer to her eyes she saw curious designs shimmering in and out of view hiding in the feather. Ornate patterns and pictures blending with the natural shape and texture of the feather. Scenes of birds flying, diving through clouds, gliding over the sea, stories and legends of flight were all there to behold on the surface of the sparkling silver feather.
        It was in the midst of these reveries that Lucy suddenly noticed that she was face-to-face with the silver bird. She looked down quickly and saw that her feet were hovering several feet above the ground. Panicking, Lucy screamed and lost her grip on the feather. The very moment she let go her mid-air suspension ceased and she plummeted painfully to the ground.
        �How do you expect to fly without a single feather?� the bird asked watching Lucy stand and brush herself off. Lucy frowned at the bird. How was she supposed to feel? She had never flown before. The silver feather was lying in front of her left shoe and Lucy bent to pick it up again. This time she was more aware of the feather's strange effect. As soon as her finger brushed against it she felt her whole body become lighter, as she grasped it in her hand she felt the chains of the earth fall from her shoulders and the freedom of the skies pulling her into the heavens.
        With a small thought she was again face-to-face with the bird. She observed a small latch holding the cage door shut. With her magic wand Lucy lifted the latch and the door sprung abruptly open.
        �Thank you!� the bird sang, flying out of the cage and onto a low branch. �I have nothing to give you for your help but my blessing and my feather, both of which are already yours forever. Sing and fly while you live beneath the sky!� he sang prophetically. With those final words and a wink the silver bird flew into the leaves and was gone.
        Lucy stared at the spot in canopy where the bird had disappeared for a long while, then she looked at the feather in her hand. Tucking it safely into her pocket she started walking home.


Where is Lucy?

        The summer months passed quickly for the world and slowly for Lucy. Who often played outside all day long. During those months Lady Rosaline became queen and protector of all the clover field, woods, and air above them. Her subjects loved her and lived freely in her realm.

        Lucy closed the door loudly as she bounded into the kitchen.
        �Well just what have you been up to missy?� Lucy's mother asked from behind a sea of dirty dishes.
        �I've been flying mommy!�
        �Oh you have? Where did you fly today?�
        �The island in the middle of the pond. A shadow was there and he was being mean to all the fairies there. So I flew there and he was scared.�
        �Lucy have you been swimming in the pond? You know you aren't allowed to go swimming without an adult. It's not safe.�
        �I'm sorry,� Lucy said looking ashamed and sorry. Lucy's mother was touched by the pitiful look on her daughters face and couldn't be angry with her.
        �Just promise you won't go into the pond again, okay?
        �I promise not to swim.�
        �Thank you sweetheart. Now go wash up and change.�
        �Okay! I'll fly upstairs!� Lucy ran out of the kitchen with her arms spread wide clutching a feather in her hand. Her mother watched her go with an amused smile. Lucy had a beautiful imagination and for months her mother had listened to stories of palaces in the clouds, far off countries, and magical birds. She just hoped her daughter wasn't climbing trees. Lucy's mother looked down at the plate she was scrubbing and thought of her own childhood daydreams.

        Later that night Lucy's mother was lying in bed and the maternal compulsion to check on her daughter lifted her to her feet, into her slippers, and down the hall to Lucy's room. She opened Lucy's door silently and looked at Lucy's bed in the moonlight. But Lucy wasn't there. Disturbed but not yet frightened she began a systematic search of the house starting in the most likely places. First the restroom, not there. Then the living room, she wasn't there either. The last place on her list of possibilities was the playroom.
        �Lucy is in a lot of trouble if she is up playing at this hour,� she thought checking her watch and reading 12:12. But Lucy wasn't in the playroom either and now she was worried. Racing about the house calling Lucy's name she checked every room. The kitchen, the garage, the dining room, and even the office, but found no trace of her little girl. With her ideas running short and her panic reaching a crescendo she ran back to the garage and up the ladder to the attic.
        �Lucy are you there?� she cried fighting back tears. Then she heard a muffled knock from the ceiling. Outside. She climbed down the ladder and raced outside through the front door of her house.
        There was Lucy standing on the highest point of the roof waving her hand at the sky. Lucy's mother saw a silhouette briefly against the stars above Lucy and then nothing. She almost screamed at Lucy to come down, but stopped herself thinking that her yell might frighten Lucy and cause her to fall.
        �Lucy,� she said as calmly as she could, �you stay right there I'm going to come up and get you. Sit down right where you are. Do it now Lucy!� She ran to the side of the house and grabbed the ladder from its side and propped it up against the gutter. She ascended quickly and walked bowl-legged and cautiously over to where Lucy was sitting calmly on the roof. Throwing her arms around her little girl and sobbing she said, �What were you doing up here? You scared me to death! I couldn't find you!�
        �It was the doves, they were in danger and I had to fly to---�
        �Stop! Stop! I don't want to hear one more word about flying! You are not allowed to climb anymore and you're going to go to bed an hour earlier, and that's just a start until I think of something to teach you a lesson,� taking her hand Lucy's mother led her daughter safely down the ladder and back to bed. After tucking her in and a few more harsh words, she told her daughter again how much she had scared her and how much she loved her. �Please don't do that ever again Lucy. I love you too much�
        She stepped out of the room and shut the door gently. Lucy's mother stood outside the door for a long time trying to decide what she should do and if she had been too gentle or too rough in handling the situation. Half and hour passed before she went back to her own bed and several hours passed before she finally went to sleep.


Seeds of Dreams

        Second grade came and Lucy was a model student. One of the best in her class claimed the teacher at a parent/teacher conference, the only complaint she had was Lucy's focus during teaching. Lucy often drew pictures during the teacher's lessons and stared out the window when she was supposed to be working. The teacher handed Lucy's mother several of the pictures she had taken from Lucy.
        �You see they are very imaginative and we encourage imagination, but not during lessons.�
        �I understand Mrs. Emard. I will talk to her about paying attention in class,� Lucy's mother promised. She looked at her daughter's drawings and recognized the themes. They were the same themes on her daughter's walls and in her notebooks. The first picture was of a nest on the top branch of a tree and in the nest were tiny people with wings. They were smiling and dancing. The rest were of similar impossibilities.
        Leaning close Mrs. Emard said quietly into Lucy's mother's ear, �Your daughter has a gift. Her drawings are unique and far beyond anything I've ever seen in my classes. She is going high places Mrs. Fay, you can count on that.�
        �Thank you very much. I'm very proud of her. I just hope she can come down from the clouds long enough to succeed in school.�
        �I'm know she will,� Mrs. Emard said with a smile, �There's really nothing else to discuss. Lucy is doing well and I'm proud to teach her.�
        �Thank you Mrs. Emard. I hope our next conference will be just as positive. Have a good day.�
        �You too Mrs. Fay.�


Mysteries
        
        Mrs. Fay listened with a mother's interest to her daughter's stories over the years. As Lucy got older Mrs. Fay expected Lucy to grow out of her flights of fantasy, but the opposite in fact occurred. Lucy's stories became more fantastical, her drawings more and more mystical, and her behavior more and more and more strange.
        One bright day in Lucy's 6th grade year, Mrs. Fay noticed that there was a trail of clover patches along the path Lucy walked to the bus stop everyday. Lucy became very concerned about the lives of all creatures, she wouldn't kill a spider if it came in the house. Instead she would tell it to promise that it would stay out of the house. This was disconcerting for Mrs. Fay, who was afraid of spiders, but she let it go because Lucy wasn't really doing anything wrong. The strange thing was after a few months of Lucy talking to the ants, mice, spiders, even termites, Mrs. Fay never saw another one of them in the house again.
        It was around this time that Lucy's mother decided to follow Lucy secretly when she went out to play. Lucy was a good girl and after coming home from school one autumn day she did her chores, studied her lessons, and hugged her mother. Having payed her daughterly dues she left by way of the backyard and began walking towards the woods with a bounce in her step and a shiny feather in her hand.
        Mrs. Fay waited a few minutes in the kitchen before following Lucy out the door. She could see Lucy was approaching the back gate of the yard and the beginning of the field behind their house. When Lucy reached the edge of the woods Mrs. Fay was less than a few dozen feet behind and Lucy had only to turn her head slightly to see her mother sneaking behind her. But Lucy never looked back, as she neared the woods she skipped less and seemed focused on her destination. Mrs. Fay followed her daughter closely into the trees.
        They continued in this manner for several minutes until Mrs. Fay lost her footing on a fallen branch and tumbled to the ground. Looking up quickly she saw no sign of her little girl. She pushed herself up quickly and hurried in the direction Lucy had been going. Nearly running she pushed branches and leaves out of her way when all of the sudden the leaves foliage cleared and she burst into a small glade of wildflowers. Then she heard, or thought she heard, music. It was very faint and Mrs. Fay immediately assumed it was the wind humming through the trees.
        �It's sounds very pretty,� she thought with a yawn, �and this is a very beautiful place. I can see why Lucy comes here so often.� Mrs. Fay knelt to smell some of the wildflowers. An, �mmhmmm,� escaped her mouth, the wildflowers smelled of holidays and dreams. They felt so soft. She had been following Lucy for so long it seemed and she was so very tired. Mrs. Fay laid her head down among the flowers and closed her eyes. �What a beautiful glade. I could stay here forever...�
        When Mrs. Fay woke in her bed, her first thought was that she had just woken from the most refreshing rest of her life. Her second thought was about how beautiful her dream had been. There had been flowers, and light, and dreams, and--- Lucy! Where was Lucy? Mrs. Fay jumped quickly out of bed and ran to her daughter's room.
        �Lucy are you there�
        A sleepy, �Yes I'm here.�
        �Where have you been?�
        �I've been in bed.�
        �Where was I?�
        �You've been in bed too. It's very late mother.�
        And it was late. Mrs. Fay checked her watch and saw that it was almost a quarter after midnight. She looked back at Lucy and rubbed her head confused. She must have been napping all evening.
        �Okay, goodnight love.�
        �Goodnight mom, sweet dreams,� Lucy's eyes seemed to sparkle as she bade her mother goodnight. Lucy rolled over onto her side and into sleep. Mrs. Fay also went back to bed, and as is the habit of those who have ceased to dream, soon forgot about that strange evening.


The Disappearance

        Gone. Lucy was gone. Lucy was gone and no one could find her. It started when the bus driver came to her stop and she didn't get on. Mrs. Fay first heard of it when the school called her at work to report that Lucy had not been present at roll call. This was how the search began. Calls were made. Places were searched. Eventually a �Missing Persons� report was filed. The neighbors searched, friends searched, family searched, the police searched, and Mrs. Fay searched harder that all the rest. Lucy however was never found.

        Years passed and Mrs. Fay could not grieve for her daughter because she still believed in her heart that Lucy was alive. She would sit in her daughter's, which was unchanged, and look through her things. Her drawings and toys. She sat crying on Lucy's bed clutching a stuffed unicorn that had been one of Lucy's favorites. Would Lucy ever come back? Would she ever be found? She hated to think of all the terrible things that might have happened to her little girl. Dreadful unspeakable things that no mother should ever have to bear. Mrs. Fay had not been a religious woman and Lucy's disappearance had done nothing to help her relationship with the higher powers, but right then Mrs. Fay found herself saying a prayer for her daughter wherever she was, if she was at all.


Dream Believers

        Mrs. Fay was in the upper room lying on her last bed. The window was open and the light of the full moon carried with it a soft summer breeze. Her life had never really moved since she lost Lucy so long ago. A mother trapped and frozen in time. She had waited months, years, and decades, for her daughter's return. A believer who's savior never came. Now with strength fleeing and life ebbing her mind turned away from reunion with Lucy and towards everything she could remember about her precious lost child.
        Lucy's joy had been boundless, her eyes promised sparkling mysteries, she brought light everywhere she went. When Lucy skipped into a room the mood brightened and laughter became the universal language, no one could ever explain it yet no one disagreed it was true. She closed her eyes now and remembered that feeling. The magic she felt when they hugged and the love that passed between them. The memories of Lucy's magical presence filled Mrs. Fay with warmth. Soon they would be together again and with that thought she finally let go of her lifelong grief. Tears rolled from the corners of her still closed eyes. Years of waiting were at an end and it was time to find Lucy.

        Mrs. Fay opened her eyes and blinked back tears. The moonlight shone pale on her face and though the breeze had made the air cool she felt warm and alive. A tiny shape moved in waves and arcs outside her window and Mrs. Fay's lips curved into a small smile. She rose from her bed with an ease she hadn't felt since she was young. She stepped slowly towards the moonlight and stretched out her arms to catch what she knew was coming. The silver feather blew softly past the curtains and alighted softly between her fingers. With the feather in her hand and her arms lifted above her head she looked into the spinning galaxies.

        �Lucy...�
                she whispered
                         and disappeared into the night sky.
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Author's Note

Let me know how I can make it better, even if its harsh. Thanks!

Reviews

[Leah Elisabeth]

I really enjoyed this. It has a lot of heart and a lot of innocence. So many people try to inspire rage or sorrow or other strong emotions with their pieces. this one brought me a lot of joy. I definitely do feel it was a little rushed. I think you could do a lot more with this story, perhaps by narrating more of her adventures. Regardless, i really liked this story, even if I did have a Beatles song running through my head at the end. . .

[Raja Anjana Kothapalli]

Wow! It was an excellent story woth smooth flow and engaging narration. You have expressed the emotions beautifully and the silver bird had taken me into Lucy's world too! Excellent fantasy short fiction! Loved it a lot, Mike Zentz!

Thanks for sharing it!☺

-Anjana

[fogisbeautiful]

I think I understand what you were doing, not exactly telling us what happened on Lucy's adventures. It added mystery and suspense and let my imagination run wild. I like that. It was beautifully written and I liked that you broke it up into parts, it made the transition from Lucy's POV to Mom's POV close to seamless. I didn't even realize that you had changed perspectives on me until close to the end. Of course I was really engrossed in the story too. A great read.

[Firesong]

In the second paragraph of the 'Disapperance' portion I believe you forgot the word 'room' after 'daughter's'. Also you switched points of view fairly quickly going from 'Narrator' to 'Lucy' to 'Mother' and so on which added to a slightly rushed feeling. Slowing down and adding a little more padding would take care of that. *grins*

Overall I enjoyed this tale, it's something to share with younger folk and that's hard. Certainly more than I can do. Don't be discouraged, the world needs more gentle fairytales.