The Blue Fairy
It's satisfying to watch my feet sink deeply into the snow. It forms little rabbit burrows, like the ones in Alice in Wonderland. Even if the snow gets into my boots. Even if I can't feel my ankles anymore. I like crushing the snow and hearing it compress against my boot. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. My fingers are frozen. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Figaro's warmth is no longer enough to warm them up. In the alley, the snow is deeper, and there's no one around. I crouch near a lamppost and whisper sweet words to Figaro one last time. Don't waste your time, Nono. Bury him here, it's just fine. I sniffle to avoid dirtying his soft fur. It looks like the soft feathers that baby penguins have. I give him a little kiss on the head and look at him for a moment, asleep in my blue mittens. Even though Jiminy is rushing me, I take the time to give Figaro soft kisses, rub him against my cheek to dry my tears and warm my face. Psst! We're not alone. I pull up my hat, which was falling too low over my eyes, and notice a lady leaning out of her window. All blonde. All blue. All beautiful. "Are you okay, little one?" Ignore her. She looks at me, head in the winter cold, eyebrows raised, cheeks red. It seems like she's worried about me. My fingers release Figaro's body. Don't do anything foolish. I sniffle, clear my throat, and go on. "I killed Figaro. And we're out of Froot Loops at home..." After a few seconds, I notice a warm tear running down my cheek. The lady's eyebrows raise even higher, so I let it hang on my chin, at the mercy of her warm pity. I drop Figaro into the snow. He collapses silently, too small to make a crunch. Quiet and keep going. She tightens her blue cardigan around herself. I'd like to nestle in it, hide in it, cling to it like you dream of doing in a duvet fresh from the dryer. All warm. All soft. Like a still-warm cinnamon bun. Yet, she looks at me as if she saw a ghost. I stare in silence. Unable to give her a single smile because of the cold. The lamp beside me is grizzling. Lighting me up as if I was standing on a stage, in a big empty theatre. "Did someone ask you to do this?"
I stare at my only spectator. "Yes. Jiminy told me it was the best thing to do." And yet, you don't listen to me much, do you?
She stares. Deep into my eyes. As if she was looking for something. "He's not your dad, is he?" "Not at all." You could have just said yes. Come on, let's go now ! The lady looks at me for a long time. As if I'm an unknown species of butterfly. Or rather a type of cockroach. I can see her eyes analyzing everybit of me. Her face is still. Just like the women in the movies. When they are face to face with a monster. The few seconds before they scream at the top of their lungs. Their eyes are gleaming, their mouth is slightly open. This is her face. Still. On pause. I don't even want to smile anymore. I let my tear freeze. "I don't think you should listen to everything that Jiminy tells you..." Let's go now! "I know that. I tried at first. But he gets mean if I don't listen to him." What are you waiting for then? "Well, maybe you should stop seeing him."
Her voice broke a little. Now, she looks like a rabbit stuck in front of a fast noisy truck. "But, I've never seen him." Figaro's fur ruffles in the breeze. I don't move a muscle. "I've never seen him, yet he's always there. Especially when I have to do bad things." Silence envelops us noisily. I see fear growing in her beautiful eyes. Her cardigan is now as impenetrable as a fortress and as cold as the snow in my boots.
"Grandpa says I shouldn't listen to him." "It's funny," I continue. "From up there at your window, with your long blond hair... you look like..." "Like what?" "Like a fairy." She smiles. Or she tries to. I don't. "I think your Grandpa is right. You'd better not listen to Jiminy. I find you nicer without him." Meaning: you scare her. Move along. I sniff again and lower my eyes to Figaro. I don't want to see her esteem for me deteriorate even more. Bury him and go away. I get up, adjust my mittens, and cover Figaro with snow. He forms a small snow mound in the shadow of the lamppost. Now, go away. I stood there for a moment. My mittens are tight. My scarf is stiff from my frozen breath. "Please don't ask me for anything more. After having to get rid of my goldfish Cleo, my goldfish, and now Figaro..." Watch your words...
" What ? ''
Oops. I wasn't talking to her.
Now she might know. Go.
I slowly turn around, then stop. I feel like I need to speak to her one last time before I leave. "Do you know what Jiminy always says? He says 'Always let your conscience be your guide.'" I look up at her. The fairy has turned into a cold mermaid statue perched on a boat's hull. She nods slowly, as if awakened from her thoughts. . Now I turn around, step over the little snow mound, and walk towards the alley's exit. My steps crunch the crisp snow. I get my grocery list out of my pocket. The Froot loops are written at the top of the list. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. I know she's watching me.
Cleo Jacob
Painting : Contact, Sergey Kolesov
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