A Lack of Faith
Diana DeRiggs
Neva's lips pursed and her brow grew stern. Everyone in the room had seen this expression before, and knew that the girl wearing it would not be dissuaded. She was a serious girl, not taken to ridiculous fairy tales or half-baked fantasies. She was smart and mature, but no one in school or church ever really thought she was nice, in that she bullied her way through with logic. She prided herself in her brain, her ability to reason out a problem, of being wholly logical. She was all business, no nonsense, and no one had any doubt about it.
Aurora sniffed, effecting perfectly the air of a girl who didn't really care about alternate opinions, "You don't have to believe, Neva. What's it to me? It just means you'll kill your fairy."
Neva, arms akimbo, had had enough and stomped hard on the floor, "For the last time, there are NO SUCH THINGS AS FAIRIES!"
The pretty blond girl sniffed again. "It's in the Bible. What other evidence do you need?"
She was referring to the war between the archangel Lucifer and his minions, and God and his angels. As in all wars, there were three sides: God's, Lucifer's, and a side for those who couldn't decide whether to back God or the archangel who became Satan. After Lucifer and his followers were thrown to Hell, God granted those angels who sided with him the right to stay in Heaven for eternity. Those who had been undecided were relegated to earth, where they were perceived by men and beast as fairies.
The girls were in the basement of their local church, where the Sunday School classes were often held. The other children gasped at Neva's declaration, as if expecting God to come down to this holy building and smite them.
Aurora sighed in a manner that indicated she was tired and annoyed, then turned her nose up at the dark-haired girl. "Every child has a fairy, and if you don't believe in them, they'll die, like Tinkerbell in Peter Pan. Go ahead and kill yours, see if I care. You'll grow up to be a mean, bitter adult. You might even turn out to be insane and homeless." She spun sharply on her heel and walked away from Neva.
The other children, mimicking that long-ago heavenly battle, mostly followed Aurora as she walked into the nursery to play with the younger children. Some hesitated. A small group sat where they were, secretly admiring Neva her nerve in standing up to the bossy blonde.
Seeing that her friends preferred to believe in nonsense than appear unpopular, Neva nearly broke down in tears. But she was taught that tears never solved anything, so she didn't cry right then. Instead, she did as her grandfather -- dead now a few years -- had told her in such situations, Stand a little straighter, take a deep breath, and walk out of there like it doesn't matter. Plenty of time to cry later on.
Once out of the church building, Neva broke into a run, not stopping till she was home. Storm clouds, perhaps reflecting her mood, had darkened the sky, and fat rain drops had started to fall. Her family was still at church services, but she didn't care. She found the backdoor key under a fake rock in the garden and let herself into the house.
Stupid friends. Fairies! Who ever could believe such a thing! People who think they believe in them must have been blind or just plain stupid. They probably saw flies or mosquitoes and called them fairies. And the idea that each person on earth has one watching over them -- how dumb do you have to be to believe that!
The rain grew heavier as she locked the door from the inside. She ran into the family library, which used to be her granddad's old study, and sat in the cushioned windowseat. She tucked her chin onto her bent knees, and stared out the window at the angry black clouds and the sheets and drops of rain landing just on the other side of the pane. The tears that fell from her eyes paralleled the falling of the drops outside and an unusual, illogical thought passed through her mind, Are the angels crying with me?
Neva was surprised to discover the bookcase next to the windowseat was stacked with her grandfather's old books, the ones he liked as a child, or liked to read to his children and grandchildren. Knowing he sat here and leafed through these very books made her feel as if he was close-by again. She missed him greatly.
She read the book spines: Paddington Bear, George and Martha, Curious George, The Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Donna Parker, Francis. Her eyes stopped on John Barry's Peter Pan, and the point Aurora made about killing fairies through not believing in them came back to her. Hesitating, she pulled that book from the shelf and flipped through it, looking for the part where Tinkerbell threatened to die.
The quick run home and the stress of fighting with her friends took its toll. She started reading, but Neva was soon asleep, the book on her chest, the rain beating an even rhythm against the window.
A small buzzing noise awoke her, but no one was home yet, and no one was in the room. A bit sore from sleeping in this upright position, she pulled the book off her chest and nearly dropped it -- on the spine was sitting a tiny ... person? With wings that looked like leaves! Long flowing hair covering its body ... holding a tiny flower, like a buttercup-sized daisy?
"I'm Csilly," said the tiny entity, no bigger than a fly, "and I believe we need to discuss some things."
Neva's panic at the sheer illogic of the situation was overruled by her fascination. Why was a fly with a human face talking? Visions of Jeff Goldblum came to her.
"No, I'm not a product of a wrongful experiment, I'm a fairy. Don't hurt me."
Neva's first reaction was to swat at the bug. Gnat-like in size and movement, the fairy moved away from her hand deftly. "How rude! I asked you not to hurt me! Look, I already have this awful headache because of you, no need to smush me!"
"Leave me alone!" yelled Neva, still swinging wildly at the small flying object.
Csilly the fairy hopped elegantly about, avoiding Neva's hands. "Calm down! I mean you no harm. I'm YOUR personal fairy, after all! I was assigned to you the moment you were conceived! I'm in this for the long haul!
"You don't believe in me, and THAT'S why all this bad stuff is happening to you! You're diminishing me with your disbelief, so I'm powerless to help you!"
Neva stopped swatting at the miniscule being, "What do you mean powerless? You look fine to me!"
Csilly sighed, "Your lack of faith ... it makes me smaller. Your friend Aurora was not completely right -- fairies don't die due to disbelief in their existence. We're all displaced angels, so we can't die. But we do grow less powerful and smaller, and I get this headache every time I get smaller. The bigger we are, the more we can help and intervene. It's my job! Don't look at me like that!"
Neva's eyes grew wide, "You really are angels??"
A tiny tear glistened in Csilly's eye, "Not any more. But this life is more fulfilling, really it is. We're sometimes called "guardian angels," but our existence and the work we do is based on whether humans and animals believe in us or not."
The human girl grew curious, "So, say I DID believe in you ... what's it to me?"
The fairy laughed, a sound like tiny crystal bells, "Well, say that boy you like in school? Nigel? I can make you look, in his eyes, like a creature he most wants. Or I can talk to his personal fairy to get him to notice you. Or, say if you want to decide between going to school and being miserable, or playing hooky for the day, I'll help you not get caught by your mom. Your mom's fairy made sure she had a baby girl with dark hair and dark eyes -- just what she wanted -- when it was time for you to be conceived. Stuff like that.
"But if you don't believe in me, my powers dwindle. Faith is not only for God, you know."
"So," said Neva, talking aloud, "we both win if I believe in you? I get help so things go my way? And you get bigger?"
Csilly nodded vigorously, "Yes! And the bigger I get, the more I can do. I can even force smaller fairies to submit to your will!"
Neva had a sudden thought, "How big is Aurora's fairy?"
The fairy shook her head, "Big, really big. She forces the rest of us to let Aurora have her way just about every time. Have you noticed how beautiful that girl is? How she seems so dumb, yet she does so well in school? How grown-ups and boys all think she's perfect? How she gets the best presents? How she never gets mosquito bites at pool parties? It's all due to Guenivere."
"That's her fairy's name?"
"Yes, although behind her back, we call her 'Guernica' since she threatens holy war if Aurora doesn't get her way," the small being snorted at her own joke.
Neva sat for a while, lost in thought. Csilly sat on the window ledge, just out of arm's reach of the human girl. Fairies don't grow bored, so it was no effort to sit quietly, but she took the opportunity to preen a bit.
Neva watched Csilly run her hands over her own wings, dusting them off. This was kind of amazing, seeing a fairy. So they must be real if she could see one. And this one was making sense! It wasn't like a dream, where nothing made sense when you woke up.
"If I believe in you, will you visit me? Why haven't I seen you before?" Neva was annoyed that this would be the first time she'd seen her personal fairy. She wondered if Aurora and Guenivere conversed like this.
Csilly flicked a bit of dust off her wing tip, "In accordance with the rules, you will only see your fairy when you are very, very young, and just before one of you will die. Your declaration of disbelief this morning, although I wouldn't have died, put me right on the edge of being able to help you. Basically, I would have been dead to you. I'll probably be re-assigned to some other embryo when that happens. But you'll go through the rest of your life fairy-less. There is no way to regain a fairy once you've rendered them completely powerless."
Another tear leaked from Csilly's eye, "We've gone through a lot together, you and I. This is our final chance to be together. If you refuse to believe in me, then you won't have a fairy, and I'll be powerless."
A sort of panic rose in Neva's chest, "I'll be like those nasty old people we see homeless in the city?" What a shocking thought! But she couldn't believe in fairies! That made no sense!
Csilly's small shoulders shrugged, "Maybe. Beyond my control. Anyway, I'm running out of time. I can feel myself dwindling. Oh, by the way, you don't have to think pleasant thoughts. That was Mr. Barry just being weird. You just have to believe we exist."
Neva brightened, "So I can think you're annoying and you shouldn't exist? I can think this conversation defies logic?"
Csilly suddenly felt energetic, "Yup, whatever rocks your boat! You can think that only if you really DO believe we exist, so that will still work." She flew in an arc above Neva's head. "You know? That throbbing headache I have every time I diminish? It's gone!"
Suddenly Neva grew upset and angry -- she was wrong, and Aurora had been right! Had Neva just been stubborn and cross for no reason? Just to be contrary? What good was logic if you could be wrong using it? She was not liking the picture she was painting of herself.
Csilly's crystal laugh pealed in Neva's ear, "That's one of the side-effects of being fairy-less!" and the sprite did a double somersault right in front of the human's eyes. She was enjoying the energy and her ability to tease the girl.
Neva tried to grab the fairy, who darted out of reach -- looking a bit bigger and faster than before. She ran after the flying, twirling being. Both of them ran out the door into the spring air. The rain had stopped and Neva found herself stomping on puddles and giggling -- coatless and hatless -- like a little kid, something she never would have done before. Gee, this is kind of fun!
Girl and fairy jumped and played for the rest of the afternoon. It turns out that Csilly had neglected to tell Neva that if you're very, very happy, and you really want to, you can see your fairy then, too.
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