As the boy was sleeping, the tooth fairy recklessly bounded through the window she had forced open only moments before. She careened into the dresser as her wings gave out, like a baby bird launching from its nest for the very first time, her nerves got the best of her. After gently dusting herself off, she gazed at the boy still asleep, oblivious to the cool north wind rushing in, as the breeze closed the window behind her. He slept soundly despite the loud crash of a careless winged woman landing in his bedroom. The boy's room was large, but contained very little, with only a bed and a dresser surrounded by a few worn toys sitting like stray dogs waiting for a sympathetic owner. The fairy wasn't nearly as small and beautiful as most imagined. Her blond hair was stiff and pale like uncooked spaghetti. Her crash landing left her thick knees as red as her blushing cheeks. The fairy's baby blue dress had the beginnings of a couple small tears in the sleeves where her thick forearms were trying to break free. The fabric stretched like a balloon on the verge of bursting.
She quietly made her way closer to the boy's pillow as his bedroom door slowly creaked open. The boy’s father peered in through the crack, awoken by her failed landing. Sleep still hung on his face from his dreary eyes to his untamed stubble. His pink slipper poked through the door as he caught a glance of the fairy. She returned an uneasy glance with a shrug. He gave her a quick nod of understanding and sluggishly drug his feet back to bed. She was sure she wasn't quite what the father had imagined he'd see. It was her first night on the job, after all.
Her more graceful and beautiful predecessor's position opened up after the former fairies’ excessive showmanship and inattentiveness had caused a fatal collision with a 757. She flew too close to the airplane and was sucked into one of the plane’s two engines, as she tried to flex the strength of her exquisite wings. She made the same mistake as a million pigeons before her. However, this time a puff of gray feathers didn't shoot through the end of the engine, instead a few blond hairs, small strands of silver wings, and a cloud of pink threads from her dress exploded like fireworks made of doll parts. Her replacement now carefully making her way closer to the boy was careless, portly, and quite absent minded. She gently reached her fat arm beneath his pillow and clutched the small white tooth. A warm breeze of bourbon struck the boys nose as she exhaled. The boy rolled over to a more comfortable position that mistakenly trapped her arm beneath his head. She started to sweat. It was a terrible nervous habit of hers.
“Dear god...” she quietly whispered.
Skillfully lifting the pillow with a delicate touch, she freed her arm while slipping a shiny quarter in its place. Her chubby cheeks were still brightly beaming red as pools of sweat grew beneath her armpits. They stood out as another gross detail among a few chocolate stains on her dress from a piece of cake she ate alongside shots of bourbon hours before. She opened a small pouch from her pocket and attempted to place the tooth inside. It slipped through her fingers and rolled under the bed. The fairy dropped to the ground trying to reach the tooth with her short, stubby arms. Sweat was now dripping from her brow and splashing on the wooden floor below like a leaky kitchen sink. Drip, drip, drip. The sound of her own flustered nerves was increasing her panic. She clutched a plastic toy fire truck that lay idle on the floor. By extending her arm to its full reach, with aid of the truck’s small ladder, she nudged the tooth back into her grasp. In a panic hoping not to be discovered by the still sleeping boy, she ran towards the wall and leaped for the window. As she jumped, her feet slipped on a rug causing her to hit her head on the window as she fell to the ground below. The father woke once again to a loud smack and thud. With an agitated groan he put his robe back on and tip-toed into his son's room. Remarkably, the boy was still asleep. His father closed the still open window which now showed new cracks in the pattern of a spider web. He looked down at the street below to see a clumsy fairy running down the middle of the street in her blue dress and silver wings. She ran through the dark neighborhood like a terrified trick-or-treater, having lost all faith in her flying ability.
“Dear God...” he said under his breath with an eye roll.
Created: Feb 06, 2010Document Media