The Fairy Rebel Read Free

yourself yesterday,” Jan reminded her, “when you thought you were earthed for good.”
    The fairy looked up at her—a very odd look.
    “That—that awful feeling I had—that was what makes tears?”
    “Yes.”
    There was a long silence while the fairy thought. Then she said, “But what made you make them? What made you have that feeling?”
    “I told you. I’m lonely.”
    The fairy frowned and shook her head. “Tell me in another way.”
    Jan said quietly, “I want a baby.”
    “Then your Queen will send you one.”
    Jan smiled sadly.
    “I’m afraid it’s not like that with us humans,” she said. “Our babies grow inside us. And there seems to be something wrong with me.”
    “Wrong?”
    “I don’t seem able to have a baby.”
    “Oh well, never mind,” said the fairy comfortably, and closed her eyes again. But after a while, she opened them. “But you do mind,” she said in a different sort of voice, “or you wouldn’t have made tears.”
    “That’s right,” said Jan.
    “Oh,” said the fairy.
    Jan’s hand was getting tired, so she laid it on her knee. The fairy sat for a while, thinking. Then shewhirred upward suddenly, vanished and reappeared sitting on Jan’s left shoulder.
    “Have you a picture in your head of the kind of baby you’d like, if you could grow one?” she asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Tell me.”
    “What’s the use?”
    “You wanted to talk. Talk,” said the fairy.
    So Jan sighed very deeply and said:
    “I want a girl baby. She doesn’t have to be very beautiful or very clever. Just a nice, normal, ordinary baby. I want her to have soft, brown hair like a bird’s feathers and skin like rose petals. And eyes like Charlie’s, browny-green. And beautiful hands with nails shaped like almonds. And little fat feet.”
    There was a pause when she’d finished. “How funny,” the fairy said. “I want a thin, thin elf-baby with green hair.” And then she flew away.

3
The Funny Feeling
    Jan didn’t say anything to Charlie this time. Although she didn’t like keeping secrets from him, she had a funny feeling that she ought to keep this one.
    She had a funny feeling altogether.
    For one thing, she felt much happier. There was no special reason for this. She stopped crying at night, and in the daytime, too. She limped about the house quite gaily, singing to herself some of her old songs. She was even able to think about dances she had once done, without feeling too miserable because she couldn’t dance anymore. Suddenly it didn’t seem to matter so much.
    Jan didn’t want to get bored, so she looked in the newspapers and found a job she could do at home. She had to telephone people, and ask them questions and write down their answers. She liked doing this, and people were usually pleased when she phoned them. Charlie was very pleased, too, that she seemed so happy.
    Soon Jan felt like seeing some friends again. It had been a long, long time since she’d wanted to see anyfriends. She wouldn’t visit them but she asked them to visit her, and they did. She even asked the ones who had babies to bring them. She played with the babies, and the surprising thing was that she didn’t feel the least bit sad, even afterward.
    “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a holiday?” Charlie asked, seeing that Jan was so much better and not miserable any longer.
    “Quite sure, thank you,” said Jan. “I’m very happy here.”
    And so she was.
    Sometimes, when she wasn’t as busy as usual, she would go into the garden and stand under the pear tree. She didn’t exactly call the fairy—she didn’t want her to get into trouble. But she stood there, just sort of hoping, humming a little tune. She was always rather disappointed when the fairy didn’t come, but not sad. She never seemed to be sad these days.
    One morning she was sitting by her bedroom window when she felt a feather touch on the back of her hand. She stopped moving at once and looked. There she was—looking just the same,