Section 130 Read online

  It was time to go. Trying to convince them without her crystal was pure silliness.

  “…You eat poisonous mushrooms all the time…”

  “It’s true. Humans can’t tell a morel from a poisonpie.” Danger interjected shaking his head.

  Wait, now that she thought about it wasn’t today the fifth day of the fifth month? She hadn’t considered numerology at all. She was feeling more and more foolish by the minute. She needed to get in touch with Stan, her numerologist, right away.

  “…you use machines to cut grass for no other reason than to throw it away, you determine dominance by who has the most pieces of paper money, you divorce, you catch perch and only eat half, you wear underpants…” Spicy droned on, but Traci was too distracted to listen.

  Thank the Goddess she had gone with her gut and bought the Personal Power Nubian Pyramid. The tune up for the car and the visit to the dermatologist could both wait…they were just funny freckles after all. She’d have to call in sick, but some serious Pyramid meditation would probably redirect this whole situation. An astrology reading made total sense too, for something this important. And a tarot reading never hurt. If she hurried, she could make it to the payday loan store before they closed.

  With renewed energy Traci hugged the Bigs good-bye and practically jogged toward her car with excitement. Little Harry stopped boom-scooting, looked up and said, “Boom-boom bye Auntie Traci. Boom-boom bye.” Spicy and Danger stared at him slack jawed. It was his first real complete sentence.

  Spicy looked at the barrel of cheese puffs and sighed. She hated to lose her snack connection, but clearly this influence had gone too far. She’d have to savor this batch and make last as long as she could.

  Tooth Exchange International Consultants

  “Report to HR. They’re waiting for you.”

  Crap. Two weeks until the end of the probation period. The last month seemed better. Why now?

  “How were your rounds tonight?”

  “Good.” Crystal turned in twenty-three teeth, an empty money belt, and associated paper- work. She didn’t need directions to HR.

  “In here, Ms. Ni.” Priscilla waved her in.

  Damn, the Head of HR, it must be major.

  Priscilla was a tough-ass. She was also a pixie. Crystal found conversations with pixies challenging. They were small and pointy, smelled like sap, and spoke in the pitch of someone sucking helium. To make matters worse, a Brownie sat next to Priscilla. Two tinies in the same meeting – double crap.

  “Ms. Ni, this is Bob. He’s from the Social Media Division. Do you know why we’re here?”

  Crystal imagined several possibilities, but feigned ignorance for fear of making matters worse. She widened her eyes in her best expression of innocence, one she had mastered over hundreds of years, and asked, “What’s up?”

  Brownies waste no time, so in response Bob leapt onto the desk, which was midway between fairy and human sized, like a small child’s station, and swiveled a monitor as tall as himself around so that Crystal could see the screen. In a Munchkin voice, high, but not as high as Priscilla’s, Bob announced, “This showed up on Facebook today.”

  A note, written by a child’s hand filled the screen. It had to be one of her assignments’. It read:

  Don’t let your parents know.

  Hey Meg, I need a favor. I lost two teeth and I tried to get the Tooth Fairy to take them and leave me money but she’s not taking them, so can you put my two teeth under your pillow and give me the money she gave you knowing it was mine? Please? The two teeth are in the bag. Please don’t take the money for yourself. (I know you wouldn’t, but in case.)

  The letter concluded with a drawing of a wide-mouthed girl missing two teeth.

  Crystal found the post charming but knew Priscilla and the organization did not. She braced herself.

  “Ms. Ni, Do you know our mission statement here at TEIC, Tooth Exchange International Consultants?” Priscilla peeped.

  Crystal knew that Priscilla knew she knew it. All RTCs, Regional Tooth Coordinators, under- went a mandatory, intensive, two-week training. In one long exhale, Crystal recited, “Tooth Exchange International Consultants support the office of The Tooth Fairy and instill a sense of comfort, wonder, and fiscal literacy in children around the world, regardless of race, religion, or political af- filiation, through the exchange of teeth for currency.”

  “That’s right, Ms. Ni. We exist for two essential reasons: to ease the burden of our primary client, The Tooth Fairy and to make kid’s lives better with a little joy and magic. When we fail to exchange, when that failure is made public, when other children and even parents get involved, do you think we are succeeding at our most fundamental responsibilities?”

  “No.”

  “No, we are not.” Priscilla pounded her petite fist on the desk in fairy furry, but the tiny tap was hard to take seriously. The reality that this represented Crystal’s third strike in as many months loomed much larger for her.

  Priscilla squeaked on. “This is a black eye on the organization and you need to fix it. Fast.”

  Crystal was sure that Priscilla outfitted her- self in power suits, towering hairdos, and severe make-up because she was aware that her diminutive size undermined her authority, especially with human-sized and near-human-sized fairies like Crystal. Priscilla meant business.

  “I will not let a near-size, with big cow eyes, jeopardize my reputation or standing within the organization. You “bigs” get all the good jobs. Everything is so much easier for you, but you are not going to screw things up for me. I’ve arranged coverage for your entire caseload. You have until the end of your probation period to solve this. And let me be perfectly clear, if you can’t, you will be terminated with no option for rehire.”

  As Crystal got up to leave, Bob threw in his parting shot, “And make sure, no more media.”

  Well, at least they hadn’t figured out the worse part, not yet anyway. Crystal needed this job. It wasn’t the greatest gig; far from it, but thanks to climate change fairy opportunities were dwindling. Her youth rapport ratings were pretty high – she’d have to try and work it out with the kid.

  The gush and gurgle of running water helped Crystal think, so she went to her favorite Indonesian restaurant with a fountain in the dining room. Spicy food comforted Crystal. With each swallow she extinguished a tiny curry flame, as she studied the client’s paperwork.

  Adopted from Ethiopia, the child Sheba lived most of her life in Tacoma, Washington. The file described a bright girl, with lots of friends, and diverse interests, including recently, roller derby. Well, that might explain the scheduling glitches with the teeth. There was an older letter in the file. In barely legible writing, at age four the child had written a saga about losing her first baby tooth in a Subway sandwich and accidently swallowing it, but could she please have the money anyway? Crystal headed to Sheba’s house encouraged; the kid might be a little obsessed with money, but was clearly a good communicator and seemed reasonable.

  “Sheba, wake up.” Crystal whispered with a gentle shake.

  “Huh?”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  Sheba rubbed her eyes. “Who are you? How did you get into my room? Why isn’t Apple barking?”

  “Dogs recognize us. We have an understanding. I’m a tooth fairy. Well, sort of. I’m actually a RTC, a Regional Tooth Coordinator.” Crystal nodded her head from side to side on every other word as if that might somehow make the title make more sense. “But the important part is I work for The Tooth Fairy. Well, you know, in a consulting capacity.”

  Roused from a deep sleep, the only thing Sheba got out of Crystal’s babble was ‘Tooth Fairy.’ “I’ve been waiting. You’re two teeth behind.

  But they’re not here. They are at my friend Meg’s. I asked her to turn them in after you never showed up here to take them.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at Meg’s house? Can you give me the mone
y without the teeth? I didn’t think that’s how it worked.”

  “No, it doesn’t. I don’t have any money any- way. I already burned through my whole budget for this month. Even my discretionary funds.”

  Sheba had no idea what discretionary funds were, but this did not sound good. “Am I being punished? Did I do something wrong? I really need that money.”

  Even though it was none of her business, Crystal couldn’t help but wonder what a nine-year- old “needed” money for. “Why’s the money so important?”

  “I’ve been saving for an Xbox forever. I’m only ten dollars away from having enough. Those teeth should get me two bucks closer.”

  “Well, that’s a problem Sheba, because I sim- ply don’t have the money to pay for them, and if I can’t work this out with you, I’m fired.”

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble, but we kid’s have limited ways to make money…my birthday and gotcha day have already happened this year and Christmas isn’t for months. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Look kid, couldn’t you help me out? Not to be insensitive, but I think I need my job more than you need two dollars, or even an Xbox for that mat- ter.”

  “Why? Aren’t you magic? Can’t you just fix things with your magic?”

  “I wish. I’ve been around for centuries and I’ll tell you, there used to be a lot more magic in this world than there is now.” In desperation Crystal decided she’d have to trust this kid. “If I tell you a secret, do you promise to keep it and not tell anyone?”

  Sheba worried that her chances of an Xbox were slipping away, but the idea of a fairy secret was pretty exciting.

  “I promise. What is it?”

  Crystal swallowed hard. She hadn’t admitted this out loud to anyone, ever. “I’m not a fairy. I lied on my application to get this job. I’m a naiad, a water nymph, not so different from a fairy, but more like a fairy cousin than an actual fairy and any magic I have is water-specific. I had a great life for hundreds of years. I had a modest stream, the Black River. It was small, but it provided all the power and magic I needed, and I took care of it and its creatures in exchange. In 1916 humans built a ship canal and dried my little creek right up.” Naiad tears originate deep beneath the Earth. They are deceptively small for the emotional torrent they carry, and Crystal’s were flowing. “I’ve been scraping to get by ever since. I can’t go back to nature. It’s too depressing. There’s nothing left. The joy of children is the best substitute I’ve ever found for what really makes a naiad happy.”

  Affected, Sheba racked her brains to think of a way to help the naiad. “What about Easter?”

  “What about it?” Crystal tried to stop sobbing.

  “Well, it’s only a few weeks away. I usually get clothes, sports stuff, and candy for Easter, but maybe the Easter Bunny could be convinced to bring me cash instead this year. Do you know him?”

  She didn’t, but the kid might be on to some- thing. Maybe the Easter Bunny could help. “If I got the Easter Bunny to bring you at least ten bucks this year, would we be square for the teeth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. It’s a plan. I’m off to find that big bunny. Thanks for working with me on this, Sheba. You’re a good kid.”

  “Your welcome, and you’re a beautiful Naiad. I’m sorry about your river. You shouldn’t lie about who you really are. My dad says it’s important to always tell the truth. I hope you can find a way to do that.”

  RTC’s did not attend or even get invited to the annual conference for “Children’s Holiday and Magical Creatures,” but everyone knew about it. Crystal located a copy of last year’s symposium booklet and, Bingo, she had the contact info she needed. One quick call and she found herself waiting for a face-to-face at Easter Command Central located on a large river island. The place put her at ease.

  “EB will see you now, Ms. Ni.”

  She had picked out a sheer dress with pastel stripes hoping to make a good impression. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

  “Come in. Come in Ms. Ni.” “Crystal, Please.”

  “Charmed Crystal. Please call me EB. Have a seat. What brings you to ECC today?

  Crystal seated herself in a wicker chair across from EB. “A current client case, actually. I’m hoping you can help me.”

  “Unusual, but not unheard of for caseloads to overlap, but, no offense, on the few rare occasions when they have, I typically meet with someone a bit more…senior…in the organization, I mean.”

  “Um, no offense taken. No one from TEIC knows I’m here. Not my boss Priscilla, and certainly not the big boss. I’m trying to work out a tricky case. I have a lot riding on it.”

  “Oh, Priscilla’s your boss? I know her well, and the big boss too. We had some fun times at last year’s conference, a little too much fun, if you know what I mean. But don’t worry I can be discrete. Given your propensity for secrets, I’m guessing they don’t know you’re a naiad either. Am I right?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I have a pretty commercial reputation, but I am a rabbit, a magical rabbit, but a natural being none the less with keen senses. I’m impressed by your ingenuity and your façade. I’m not surprised that you’re having problems though. I imagine fairy work would be counterintuitive for a naiad. But that’s neither here, nor there. What can I help you with today?”

  “Well, I have case. A girl named Sheba in Ta- coma, Washington.”

  “Oh, yes. I know her. Good kid. Very smart.” “I need you to give her ten dollars for Easter.”

  “Sorry, I don’t typically deal in cash. I’m

  pretty sure she’s programmed to receive the usual: spring clothes, candy, and a jump rope.”

  “But all that would cost way more than ten bucks. Can’t you just give her the money?”

  “It’s not about cost, it’s principle. I live by a philosophy related to holiday giving. I led a round table discussion at last year’s conference entitled ‘Clothes, Cash, or Candy? What Do Today’s Children Want and What Should They Want?’ I can dig up a copy of the notes if you’re interested.”

  “That would be great, but in the meantime could you make an exception for this one kid?”

  “Let’s suppose for a minute I could, what’s in it for me?”

  The Naiad had not considered he might want something. “Is there something you want?”

  “Do you know the average cottontail poops 300 times a day?”

  “What?” She couldn’t see where he was going with this.

  “My worker bunnies are enchanted which helps manage things a bit, but do you have any idea what it means for my production schedule and sanitation expenses to be reliant on rabbit labor alone?”

  “I can see how that’s a problem, but I’m not sure where I come in…”

  “I’ve looked into support services. I even approached the TEIC and the North Pole Eleven Alliance, but Santa and old ‘Toothy have circled the wagons with iron clad non-compete clauses for all union members. The Switch Witch is sympathetic, but she’s a one-woman operation with no work- force or power. The Leprechauns simply aren’t interested. Cupids are free agents. I believe you have some at TEIC, yes?”

  Yes, they did. Crystal had run into quite a few, even received training from one, a total letch.

  “The bottom line is I’ve never been able to convince anyone to consider trading bunny labor for elf, fairy, or any other kind of workers. What I need is an alternative, some supernatural personnel from a market not yet cornered. Any ideas?”

  “You want naiads to come work for you?” “Do you think they’d be interested?”

  She did. Actually, the plan was brilliant, be- tween global warming, dams, and pollution, this could be a new hope for her kind. She knew from her own experience that the change didn’t come easy, but naiads could find meaning and purpose in brining joy to children. And they’d be working side by side with bunnies. Naiads had always had good relations with animals. The more she thought about it, the more excited she got
.

  Her mind raced with the possibilities until it stumbled on an unwelcome thought.

  “EB, I’m under contract. I signed the non-compete.”

  “Well, luckily Priscilla owes me. I handled an ugly situation for her last year when the Cavity Creeps crashed the TEIC’s hospitality suite during cocktail hour. What a wild night. The Creeps aren’t such bad guys really. Fortunately, running a candy for breakfast holiday as I do, I have an established relationship with them and we were able to come to an understanding about how guests be- have. It turned into the party of the conference. Those Cavity Creeps love their karaoke.”

  A few weeks into the transition things were going swimmingly. Thirteen fulltime naiads, four nymphs, and two satyrs joined the ranks and recruitment remained on the uptake. The ECC buzzed with new energy and ideas. Crystal loved her job and surprised herself with her creative management style. Even her long dormant love life perked up when Carl, one of the Cavity Creeps who came on as part of a demolition and construction pilot program, asked her out. He wasn’t too bright, but he had a masculinity she found very appealing. Crystal felt truly happy for the first time in years. As she reflected on all this in her big, beautiful, corner office with a water view, only a teeny tiny part of her worried that this was all too good to be true and it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped.

  Her intercom chimed and her assistant announced, “Bob from TEIC Social Media is here to see you. Should I show him in?”

  Crystal’s stomach clenched. She tried to as- sure herself today would not be that day as she stood to greet him.

  “Bob.” “Crystal.” “How are you?”

  “Good. But more importantly, how are you? The whole holiday world is talking about what you’re doing here at the ECC. The reports are glowing. Is it as great as creatures are saying?”

  “It’s pretty awesome, but what brings you here Bob?”

  “Well, there’s something you need to see.” Bob pulled an iPad mini out of his bag and flipped it on.

  Crystal fought a wave of dejavu and tried to steady herself.