Gurney, the Redneck Fairy

Gurney, the Redneck Fairy

Once upon a time, in a little trailer nestled in the woods at the end of a dirt road, there lived a boy named Zac. Zac was ten years old, with bright blue eyes and a mop of sandy-brown hair that never stayed fixed no matter how hard he tried. Zac's life wasn’t easy. His mama worked long hours at the diner in town, and his daddy...who knows? He left to get milk many years ago and never came back. Their old trailer creaked in the wind, and the only food in the fridge was a jar of pickles and a half-empty bottle of BBQ sauce, and not the good stuff either; it was Kraft-brand.

Like every youngster, Zac wished for things, only he didn't bother gazing up at the stars and wishing for a new video game, or an upgraded phone, or even some swanky new shoes. He just wished for shoes, whether they were swanky or not didn't matter. If not shoes, he'd settle for a warm coat that actually fit. A meal that didn't come shrink-wrapped and ready to be microwaved would've been nice too. On his feistiest days, he might peer up at the stars and desire a bike to ride, but mostly he kept his dreams and hopes low-key.

On the other hand, every time he made a wish upon the star, for whatever was on his mind, he always added a "PS..." He'd finish his little prayer, then lower his head, grab the window to lower it down to the sill, pause, look up again, and then add: "Oh, and PS... I'd like a friend."

That was the one thing Zac didn't have that he wanted most of all, and he wanted it so badly, and for so long, he'd almost forgotten that it was a wish. To him, asking for a friend was just the way he finished all his wishes. There was even that one time in mid-December, when he caught sight of a Santa Claus ringing a bell outside the local Wal-Mart. Zac peeled his hand free from his mother, ran back to the Santa, and blurted out his desire for socks without holes. Then, just before his mama snatched the scruff of his shirt, he blurted out: "Oh and a friend, don't forget the friend!"

Christmas came and went that year, and though he got a new pair of socks, as always, he got no friend.

One warm Spring night, as Zac sat on the trailer steps looking up at the stars, something unusual happened. One of the little lights in the sky started to hop. It bounced from Orion's Belt to the Big Dipper, then seemed to jump out of the velvety black sky toward the earth, lunging toward him like in those 3D movies he heard about (but never could afford to go see). The little light broke free from the heavens and bounded to the earth, hovering in the dirt yard beyond his trailer, flickering in place, tantalizing the boy. Then, in a blink, it whizzed away into the nearby woods. By the time Zac jumped up to chase it, the light returned, hurrying out of the trees as if chased by a monster. For a second, Zac thought it was just a firefly, but as it sped toward him, the light grew hotter and bigger, and something looked to be sitting inside the brightest point in the center of it.

It was a man.

Granted, it was a very tiny man, no bigger than an action figure, but considering how the light had been no bigger than a pin-prick just a moment earlier, this was the last thing Zac was worried about. He inched closer, feeling his nerves start to flutter. He was ready to run if he needed to. His mama was working late so he was home alone, but he knew where the shotgun was, and he was prepared to use it if--

"Well, hot dang, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!" the man in the light declared.

Zac blinked. The light faded and his eyes adjusted. Standing in front of him, no bigger than a can of Dr. Pepper, was the strangest fairy he’d ever imagined. He wore a tiny trucker hat, ripped overalls, and leather boots, muddy from his quick trip into the woods and back. His wings weren’t glittery or shiny; they looked like they were made of chicken wire, and patched with duct tape.

"W-who..." Zac began, but the rest of his sentence never came out. Fortunately, the fairy took the lead.

“Name’s Gurney,” the little man said, sticking out a hand. “I’m your fairy god-cousin."

"Godcousin? That's a thing?"

"Sure is..." he said, looking proud at first, but the facade faded a second later. His eyes fell to the earth and his shoulder slumped. "I mean, it's what you call it when you aint made it to the top level."

"Top level?"

"GodFATHER and GodMOTHER," Gurney said. "I'm still a trainee. Anyway, I hear you been havin’ a rough go of it.”

Zac stared and then laughed, as though the insanity of what was before him finally hit him: "Hold up, am I dreaming?"

"If you was, would THIS be how you dreamed it?"

"Good point."

"Look it, I know I ain’t fancy like one of them storybook fairies, but I get the job done. I been hearing you wishin up n them stars for a while now, and, well it's about time somebody answered. Reckon it oughta be me. Better than nothin, aint it?"

"I guess..."

"Sure it is. Now then..." Gurney fluttered over to the porch and sat down on the top step, groaning with relaxation as he did. "What's eatin' ya?"

Zac hesitated, then shrugged and plopped down beside him. “Everything. We don’t got much, and I don’t have no one to talk to. Even if I did, who'd wanna talk to someone with holes in his shoes. All the other kids have bikes to ride and---”

“Well, shoot,” Gurney interrupted, rubbing his chin. “Let’s fix that right quick.” He reached into his tiny toolbox, which he carried on his back, and pulled out a long screwdriver. “Alrighty,” he said. “Hold tight... this is either going to fix your problem... or hurt like the dickens.”

"Wait what?!"

"Like I said; I'm just a trainee, but don't worry I've been practicing. Look here, I'll try it out on that mouse right'cheer."

He pointed the screwdriver at a little mouse lingering in the darkness near the house. "That thing," Zac said with a groan. "Its been coming in the house for weeks. Can't seem to get rid of it."

Gurney gave his "wand" a swish-and-flick, and then, with a BANG and a FLASH of light, the little mouse squealed. The sound lasted only for a second before everything fell silent.

"Is it... dead?" Zac asked.

"Dead? Gosh, I hope not. Look..." Zac leaned forward and squinted to see through the darkness. The mouse was, indeed, still alive, only now he had a partner. A second mouse was standing nearby, looking around, utterly bewildered.

"You made MORE mice?"

"The spell was for a friend. I made a friend." Gurney grinned, looking proud of himself. "Your welcome." Then he pointed his screwdriver at Zac's face.

"Let's start with something smaller," Zac said, raising his hands defensively. "I could use some new shoes..."

"You got it!" Gurney said, jabbing the air with his screwdriver. Another BANG and a FLASH of light followed, along with a cloud of smoke that exploded from Zac's feet. When the dust dissipated, a new pair of New Balance shoes were fitted comfortably on his feet. They weren't the finest shoes in the world, but they were new, and that's all that mattered.

"More!" Zac shouted eagerly. "A bike! Please!"

BANG

FLASH

In an instant, there it was: A middle-of-the-line bike for Zac to enjoy. It even had a little playing card stuck in the spokes for that delightful "tik-tik-tik" sound that you hear when you ride it.

Zac's eyes grew wide. “This is incredible!"

“Yup,” Gurney said, grinning. “But magic's no good if its used on stuff that don’t matter. Hard work and good company—that’s where the real magic’s at.”

"Does that mean, you'll make me a friend."

At that, Gurney took off his hat and rubbed his balding head. "Right...about that. See kid, that mouse I made... well that's just a mouse. It don't got nowhere to be so it's fine bein carried to somewhere new. I got this one from the woods out yonder. I can't just go making a person from thin air. I'd have to bring one over here, and that might get the cops after me. Ya know, kidnappin' and all."

"Yeah," Zac said, hanging his head. "I understand. There are something impossible even with magic."

"Now, hang on there," Gurney said, raising a finger in thought. "You might have the right idea and don't even know it."

"Huh?"

"You need a friend. I can get you a friend. It'll take a little time, but I can do it."

"How?"

"Leave it to me."

Over the next few weeks, Gurney stuck around, popping up whenever Zac's mom went to work. He helped him in ways big and small: He showed Zac how to fix the trailer's roof with some scrap metal, turned an old tarp into a rainproof fort, and even rigged up a fishing pole from an old broomstick. With Gurney’s help, Zac started to feel less alone and more hopeful.

A curious thing happened over these several visits, too. At first, after Gurney's time helping Zac was done each day, the boy would ask him the same question: "Is that good enough? Can I get a friend now?" The same answer came in reply: "Not yet. I reckon a little more time is needed."

As the days turned to weeks, however, Zac started asking the question fewer and fewer times, not because he was losing hope, but because the answer seemed to matter less and less to him.

One day, as the sun was just beginning to set, Zac and Gurney were fishing by a creek. Zac turned to the little redneck fairy and asked him: “How come you're still coming around?"

"Do what?" Gurney asked.

"I just mean, it's been three months since you first came to see me, and I ain't no closer to having a friend than I was on the day you showed up."

"Aint you?" Gurney answered, causing Zac to furrow his brow. A smile crept across the old redneck's face. "Kid, I figure everybody deserves a little help now and then. And who better than me? I know what it’s like to scrape by, always feelin' like you don't amount to much. But you got somethin’ special, you know that?"

"What do I got?"

"You got a 'don’t quit' attitude. That's a kind of magic all on it's own, I reckon."

Zac smiled at that. A couple months earlier, he might've said something like: "Still don't have any friends though," but he didn't say that. He didn't even think it. Why would he?

He already had a friend, and he was glad of it.

THE END