Excerpt from The Fairy Princess: Enter into Fionntan

Someone was following Trinette. She was almost sure of it. But every time she turned around to see who it was, the sidewalk would be empty. It looked as if she was all alone walking to school. She wanted to believe that was true, she didn’t want someone to be following her. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone. She heard the sound of a dry leaf crinkling on the quiet isolated block, as if someone stepped on it. She quickly turned around, and still nothing. Whoever they were, they were fast or invisible. Anniephine told her there were beings in Fionntan that could blend into their surroundings to keep from being seen. Fionntan was the magical land, inhabited mainly by fairies and unicorns, that Anniephine would tell Trinette stories about. But those beings were shy and didn’t want to be seen. They weren’t the type to follow an almost twelve-year-old girl as she walked by herself to school.

Trinette was days away from her birthday, but she hadn’t grown much since the last one. She was petite, with light-brown skin and kinky, curly hair pulled into two afro puffs on top of her head. Her father, Dempsey, used to tease her, saying that she tried to make herself look taller with her hair.

   Up ahead Trinette saw a dark, narrow alley that sat in the shadow of two tall apartment buildings. As she passed, she quickly ducked into it. If someone really was following her, she would see them walk past. She waited there for a long time, but no one passed. She peaked around the corner of the building and looked both ways. The street was clear. Maybe her mother, Mira, was right to tell her not to watch so much Dateline. It was making her paranoid. Although she found the mysteries intriguing, they were starting to interfere with her morning commute. Trinette walked toward the street to continue on her way to school when she saw a bright sapphire blue flower amongst a few blades of grass, growing out of a crack in the concrete. A bright spot in the darkness of the alley. It was the most unusual flower that Trinette had ever seen.

   “Was not expecting to see that,” she said. Trinette bent over and picked the flower out of the ground.

   Trinette believed she had gone from paranoid to delusional because she could swear that the little, bright-blue flower was vibrating. It almost felt as if it was transferring its energy to her. But that could be from having a steady diet of magical stories from an overindulgent godmother. She had fairies on the brain. Of course, everything unusual seemed like magic. Those logical thoughts didn’t keep Trinette from being completely mesmerized by the little flower. She walked out of the alley, turned in the direction of her school, then walked right into a complete stranger. Trinette was thrown off balance and almost fell, she reached out and grabbed the stranger’s arm to steady herself. As she touched him, his midnight black coat turned to a much lighter smoke gray. Trinette was startled by the change and looked up to see who she had just bumped into. He was wearing a hood that covered most of his face, except for a chin covered in a goatee. Before Trinette could apologize for her clumsiness, he hurried along and walked away from her.

   “Um, sorry?”, Trinette called after his retreating figure.

   The figure was wearing a gray coat that was definitely black when she touched it. And when she touched his coat, she felt the little flower in her hand vibrate harder. Did that have something to do with it? Did she change the color of that man’s coat? And why didn’t he notice? It was his coat. Maybe she imagined the whole thing. Just like she imagined someone was following her to school. Trinette shook her head and carefully put the flower away. Dateline and fairytales were a dangerous mix.

Trinette arrived at school and walked past the kids on the playground huddled together in different groups. She didn’t belong to any group. She was a loner. She felt it was easier to stay out of trouble that way. Strange things sometimes happened around her. Things she couldn’t explain. If she didn’t have a group of her own, she wouldn’t have to explain something she didn’t understand herself. So, she concentrated on going to school and doing just good enough to pass. Her teacher used the bell curve, and she didn’t want to be the student who scored too high and ruined everyone else’s grades. Although she wouldn’t mind sabotaging Rodney’s grades. He was a slimy little toad in the personage of a human, or at least that’s how Trinette saw him. He was the class bully, though he was careful not to pick on anyone more than half his size. And he didn’t need help sabotaging his grades. He was repeating the sixth grade for the second time.

Inside the school, in the hallway, while everyone was at their lockers, this adorable little fourth grader, Percival, ran by trying to get to class on time. There were many reasons why Trinette believed Percival wasn’t favored by his parents, one of them being his name. They could have named him Punching Bag and been more to the point. Also, because they didn’t make an effort to get the boy to school on time, and they dropped him off at the wrong door, he had to walk through the sixth-grade corridor to get to his class. Percival was tiny amongst all the fourth graders so he was minuscule in the sixth-grade corridor. This made him the perfect prey for Rodney. As Percival ran by Rodney’s locker, the toad stuck his foot out and tripped dear little Percival. He fell, and all his books and papers flew everywhere. Everyone laughed, all except Trinette. She watched as Percival stopped to gather up his things. When Rodney and his entourage finally moved on, Trinette bent down to help him.

“Perce, you’ve gotta learn how to stay off Rodney’s radar,” Trinette said with a small smile.

“I try and try Trinette, but nothing I do seems to work,” Percival said breathlessly.

“First of all, you must insist that your parents drop you off at the right door.”

 “They’re always late and somehow that’s my fault, even though I end up waiting on them for forty minutes every day.”

“You’re late anyway, so you might as well walk around to the main door and go in that way.”

Trinette gave him the books and papers she had gathered, and Percival put them with the things he had picked up himself.

“You may be right, Trinette. I’ll try that next time, thanks!”

“No problem!”

Percival hurried off to his class. Trinette turned to enter her classroom and was confronted by her teacher, Ms. Ford.

“You’re late, Trinette,” Ms. Ford said.

“I was just helping Percival pick up his papers,” Trinette responded.

“He’s got two working hands. He doesn’t need your help,” Ms. Ford said and moved to the side so Trinette could enter the classroom, signaling that the conversation was over. Trinette walked into the classroom and quietly sat at her desk.

Trinette never tried to make trouble with Ms. Ford, but she always seemed to find herself in hot water with her. Mira always said that Ms. Ford looked like an R&B singer from the ‘90s named Vesta Williams, just not as pretty. Trinette didn’t know who that was, but Ms. Ford’s weave looked like it came from the ‘90s.

Ms. Ford started off their world history lesson with a review of what they had learned so far. She asked the class questions to see if they remembered what they had learned just the day before.

“Which kingdom arose in the Sudan following the decline of Ghana in 1076?” Ms. Ford asked.

A few hands rose up, none of them very confident. Trinette tried to remember the lesson from the day before. She knew it was in West Africa and located near goldmines. Ms. Ford called on Cory, the class clown.

“Yes, Cory?”

“Cush!” he said with a smirk. There was a smattering of giggles around the classroom.

“By this time, it’s called Ethiopia, and that’s not the answer.”

The more Trinette thought the more she believed the answer was Mali. But she didn’t raise her hand. She knew Cory was just telling a joke, and she figured someone else would have the right answer. Ms. Ford called on Talia.

“Yes, Talia?”

“Songhai!” she said enthusiastically.

“No. Come on you guys! We just went over this yesterday. Doesn’t anybody know the answer?”

Mali. The answer was Mali. But now Trinette didn’t want to raise her hand, to be branded a know-it-all. So, she sat quietly and watched Ms. Ford look around the room searching for someone who might have the answer. Ms. Ford’s eyes landed on her. Trinette quickly looked away so she wouldn’t be called on. Ms. Ford gave a disgusted sigh.

“It’s Mali. Now open your books to chapter 8. We’ll just have to go over it again.”

A chorus of “Aww Man!” rang out all over the room. Trinette quietly opened her book and took out her notes.

After school, Trinette went to the cleaner’s to see her godmother Anniephine. The cleaner’s was a small operation. Up front was the counter, with a humongous clothes conveyor a few feet behind it. In the back were all the machines and equipment that Trinette had no idea what they were, or what their use was for, besides cluttering the dry cleaner’s. At the very back was a tiny office overflowing with papers, and next to it, a tiny bathroom. Through the window, she saw her godmother helping a customer at the counter. Anniephine had been at the cleaner’s for as long as Trinette could remember. With long dark hair and skin the color of coffee, Anniephine practically floated on air. Every movement she made was utterly graceful. It was as if Anniephine had embodied all of the qualities of the fairies she constantly told Trinette stories about. She made tagging and bagging clothes look like an art form. Without knowing it, Trinette had grown to emulate Anniephine’s gracefulness. In fact, she and Anniephine were so much alike that people thought Trinette was her daughter. This would annoy Trinette’s mother Mira if she were around to hear it. Trinette opened the door and walked inside. Anniephine gave the customer a ticket and they exited.

“So, what mischief did we get into today?” Anniephine said as she tagged the customer’s clothes.

“No mischief, but somehow I ended up in trouble anyway,” Trinette said.

Trinette walked up to the counter and started to fiddle with the edge of a blouse that sat on the counter. Anniephine stopped tagging the clothes and looked at Trinette.

“What happened?”

“I got in trouble for helping someone that Rodney was bothering.”

“Why would you get in trouble for helping someone?”

“Ms. Ford said they didn’t need my help, and I should have already been in class.”

“That’s not a very charitable attitude.”

“She doesn’t believe in charity.”

“How did class go, once you finally made it inside?”

“She started off by doing a review of what we learned yesterday but got upset when nobody knew the answers.”

“You didn’t know the answers?”

“I knew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know.”

Trinette looked down and started fidgeting with the edges of her shirt. Anniephine stared at Trinette for a few moments then started tagging the clothes again.

“You know unicorns are the smartest beings in Fionntan?”

Trinette looked up at Anniephine.

“Smarter than fairies?”

“Yep. In their village is the largest library in all of Fionntan. Beings come from all over to study there. All their librarians are historians and can tell you the entire history of Fionntan. Usually, when there is a problem that can’t be solved, the fairies and unicorns will go before the Unicorn Council, the best of the best, to get their advice.”

“But everyone is smart in the unicorn village, right?”

“Yes, everyone in Melchior is a bona fide genius. But they aren’t afraid to show how smart they are to the fairies. As a matter of fact, the fairies respect them because they are so smart.”

“They have magic, why would they care?”

“Having magic doesn’t make you immune to common sense. You need to be smart to make the most of your magic.”

Anniephine said that as if someone could have magic and not make the most of it. Of course, it didn’t matter if that was true, since Fionntan didn’t really exist. Sometimes Anniephine talked as if it were real, and she could swear that Anniephine was talking from personal experience. But a land filled with fairies and unicorns couldn’t be real. It made for good stories though. Trinette loved to hear about all the different types of fairies and all their powers. It made her think of how wonderful it would be if she were as special as the fairies in the stories Anniephine told. It made her wish, sometimes, that Fionntan was real.

Trinette entered her home with her backpack slung over one shoulder. She walked into the living room, the largest room in the house. Actually, it was the living/dining room. A configuration of a couch, loveseat, and entertainment center was towards the front of the house, with a dining room table and chairs (with the plastic still on them) closer to the kitchen. A huge TV sat on the entertainment center, with various gaming consoles connected to it. The entertainment center was also littered with video games. This was Dempsey’s happy place. She walked down the narrow hallway and approached her parents’ room. Slightly bigger than hers, because it was the master bedroom, most of the square footage was taken up by their queen size bed. On one side of the bed was their oversized dresser and mirror, and on the other was a small closet. At the foot of the bed stood a tiny entertainment center, straining under the weight of the large flat-screen TV on top of it. All around the TV, various DVDs were stacked. The door to the master bath was next to the oversized dresser, and that was where Trinette’s father Dempsey stood. He was dressed in slacks and a wife beater, and shined his shoes, getting ready for his second job. He was tall and slender with a slightly muscular build, though his belly told of his love of the occasional beer. Her mother, Mira, sat on the bed and rifled through a shoebox full of bills. Back in her day, Mira was just as petite and bubbly as Trinette. Over the years she has remained slim, but her sparkle has waned. She was still a beautiful woman, but her beauty would be greatly improved if she smiled more.

“We have to pay the electric bill. I ain’t living in the dark,” he said, as he buffed one shoe with a rag. Mira cut her eyes at Dempsey, not convinced of his motivation.

“You mean you ain’t living without those video games.” This is an old point of contention between the two. Dempsey sought constant refuge in his video games. Mira felt like he was abandoning her. Both were so absorbed in their own feelings that they didn’t see Trinette standing on the sideline.

“I’m home,” Trinette said to no one in particular.

“Don’t start with me, Mira.”

“Start what? Can’t I have an opinion?”

“Do you have to express the same one all the time?”

“Maybe if you’d listen to me instead of playing them games all the time, I wouldn’t have to.”

“I need them to relax!”

“Oh, here we go again.”

“I work two jobs and have bosses down my throat all day, and then I come home and have to deal with this.”

Trinette waved her hand trying to get their attention.

“Going to do my homework, maybe plan a bank heist,” she said, as she lingered in the doorway. Dempsey and Mira were too heated to notice.

“This! Tonight, when you cook your own dinner and wash your own clothes, remember how stressful my presence is in your life.”

“Why you gotta be like that Mimi?”

Trinette walked on unnoticed. She entered her bedroom and threw her backpack down on the floor and walked over to her bed. Trinette had a typical tween room, with a princess twin bed with lace valance. Next to the bed sat a small nightstand with a dainty lace doily in the center, a lamp, and a Paul Frank alarm clock. A tall bookcase, filled with a wide selection of children’s classics, plus a shelf or two dedicated to Trinette’s favorite stuffed animals. Her other childhood toys were stuffed into a wooden toy box next to the bookcase. A dresser, with a mirror that matched the princess bed, was covered in accessories and products that every tween girl needed to tame her natural hair. Her small closet contained a small selection of clothes. It used to be filled to the brim with things she grew out of before she ever got to wear them. But while Trinette continued to grow, her parents’ income seemed to decrease, and her closet suffered for it.

Trinette sat on her bed and looked at Stella, her favorite doll. It was the last doll her father bought for her. She was a birthday present, from the last birthday party she had with cake, ice cream, balloons, decorations, games, and friends. She had gotten tons of gifts, (she suspects a credit card or two might have been maxed for the occasion), but Stella was, by far, her favorite. A mix of soft body and silicone vinyl limbs, she was light brown like Trinette, with soft brown hair, and the rosiest of cheeks. She was a great listener and a professional cuddler.

“I guess I should get started on my homework, even though I doubt they even know I’m home. I bet you I could become a criminal mastermind, and they wouldn’t even notice.” Stella just stared at Trinette silently.

“Fine, I’ll do my homework. But if I did rob a bank, I could buy you that new dress we saw at the toy store.” The silent stare continued. I guess Stella doesn’t have much faith in an eleven-year-old’s criminal skills.

Trinette reached into her backpack and pulled out the mysterious sapphire blue flower.

“I forgot about this!” She held it up to show Stella.

“It hasn’t wilted at all, and it still vibrates in my hand. I meant to show it to Anniephine, but I forgot.” Even Stella’s silent stare seemed to be mesmerized by the flower.

“It’s so pretty. I wonder what it’s called?” Trinette reached out and touched the flower. Her clothes changed color from purple to pink! Trinette screamed and dropped the flower. Her clothes changed back to purple.

Mira burst into the room, looking worried.

“What happened?” she asked frantically. Trinette looked at her sheepishly.

“Nothing. I thought I saw a spider.”

Mira went from concerned to annoyed in two seconds flat.

“Girl! Well, maybe if you swept away those cobwebs on the ceiling, you wouldn’t see any spiders. You know what? Go get the broom and sweep up this bedroom. Don’t forget to get under your bed and all of the cobwebs on the ceiling in the corners.”

With that, Mira slammed out of the room. Trinette reluctantly got up and walked to the door. She paused and looked at the flower still on her bed. It was just as bright as when she first picked it.

“It can’t be real.” But Stella looked back at Trinette with her knowing stare. Can’t it?