Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Modern Fairies, Dwarves, Goblins, and Other Nasties

Lesley M. M. Blume




  THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2010 by Lesley M. M. Blume

  Illustrations copyright © 2010 by David Foote

  Cover art copyright © 2010 by David Foote

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/kids Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Blume, Lesley M. M.

  Modern fairies, dwarves, goblins, and other nasties : a practical guide / by Miss Edythe McFate; as told to Lesley M. M. Blume; illustrated by David Foote. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: A compendium of practical information and cautionary tales about fairies and other similar magical creatures that might be encountered in modern cities like New York, intended to help the child who may come into contact with them.

  eISBN: 978-0-375-89702-3

  [1. Fairies—Fiction. 2. New York (N.Y.)—Fiction.] I. Foote, David, ill. II. Title.

  PZ7.B62567Mo 2010

  [Fic]—dc22

  2010004961

  The illustrations in this book were created using a Victorian dip pen and black ink on paper.

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.1_r1

  For Greta, the sweetest little hobgoblin in New York City

  –L.M.M.B.

  For my lovely Lauren

  –D.F.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Introduction

  How to Tell a Good Fairy from a Bad One

  How to Protect Yourself from a Dangerous Fairy

  Gifts to Give Today’s Fairies

  Tale No. 1: The War at the Algonquin Hotel

  Fairies and Flowers

  A Special Note to Those with Gardens

  Why You Should Watch Your Step on Baseball Fields, Soccer Fields, and Other Vast Lawns

  Setting the Record Straight About Ringing Bluebells

  Tale No. 2: A Face Made from Flowers

  Further Notes on Fairy Rings

  The Link Between Fairies and Diamonds

  Tale No. 3: Behind the Brass Doors in the Lincoln Tunnel

  The Difference Between Dwarves and Trolls

  Money in the Fairy World

  Why You Shouldn’t Trust Fairy Godmothers

  Tale No. 4: Unlikely Performances at Carnegie Hall

  Music and Fairies

  Fairies in Your Kitchen

  On the Temptation of Spoons

  Tale No. 5: The Number One Train

  Time in the Fairy World

  End of the Free Ride

  Garbage Dumps and Other Unlikely Fairy Habitats

  Enchanted Fairy Isles

  Tale No. 6: The Ballad of Big Edd

  A Short Note on Perfume

  The Blight of Pools

  Why Human Hair Turns Gray

  Why Fairies Covet Human Babies

  Tale No. 7: Ball Lightning at Coney Island

  Other Fairy-Inhabited National Landmarks

  On the Question of Photographing Fairies

  Fairies and Animals

  Tale No. 8: Molasses

  The Future of Fairies

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Introduction

  My name is Miss Edythe McFate, and once you’ve read my practical guide to modern fairies, you will never see the world around you in the same way again.

  You may think that fairies are make-believe or extinct like dinosaurs. You also probably think of all fairies as lovely winged creatures, frolicking around in bluebell fields, singing and dancing and granting wishes.

  If so, you’re wrong on all counts.

  Firstly, fairies are very much alive today, and they are everywhere—in your city, in your backyard, even in your kitchen cupboards. In the old days, most fairies did live in the countryside, and some of them still do, of course. But many fairies also dwell in cities and towns and live startlingly modern lives.

  Secondly, fairies come in many different forms. The majority of fairies indeed resemble tiny winged humans, but the fairy family includes goblins, trolls, dwarves, brownies, and countless other creatures. Each breed can have hundreds of sub-breeds: in fact, the family tree for the winged fairy species alone would have over ten thousand branches.

  Finally—and most importantly: while some fairies are indeed pretty and sweet-tempered, others can be quite nasty or even dangerous.

  What all fairy breeds have in common: magical powers that can be used to do something nice for you—or ruin your life forever. Some fairies are shape-shifters or curse-wielders; others are hypnotists and kidnappers. Sometimes you can outsmart them, but nine times out of ten, they’ll get the better of you.

  In this guidebook, you will find heaps of practical advice on how to tell a good fairy from a bad one and how to spot a “fairy ring”; you will learn the difference between dwarves and trolls (one species is far deadlier than the other) and how to defend yourself against fairies who would do you harm. I’ve also included eight cautionary stories about children your age who’ve had some astonishing encounters with fairies. Each of these tales deals with a different type of fairy, and I’m warning you: some of the stories aren’t pretty. In fact, several are quite terrifying. But every single one of these stories is true, so I’d advise you to read them all and pay close attention in case you find yourself in similar situations.

  Forewarned is forearmed, I always say.

  And to prove that fairies really have adapted to the most modern environments, the stories that I’m retelling happened right smack in the middle of bustling, ultra-modern, taxi-and-people-filled New York City, where I have lived since I was born.

  Like most Americans, many fairy species came from someplace else in the world, and they often arrived on the same ships that landed at New York’s famous Ellis Island. It might be hard to imagine now, but years ago, New York City was filled with woods and streams and fields—just the sort of place that all kinds of fairies would like to call home.

  So, like the human immigrants, hundreds of fairies settled right in, and as the decades and centuries passed, what would become the City of Steel slowly swallowed up the fields and dammed up the streams and devoured the woods where the original immigrant fairies had made their new homes. Did they leave? Some of them did. But others stayed on, and unlike their distant cousins in the countryside, today’s urban fairies are in daily contact with their human neighbors. After all, New Yorkers live practically on top of each other, and the city’s fairies are no exception.

  You might think that all of this contact would make the fairies tame and friendly, but actually the opposite is true. Fairies are extremely private creatures, and they often become very resentful when spied on or interfered with or rankled in any way. Living in such close proximity to so many species means that you will have a hundred times as many opportunities to offend nearby fairies—however unknowingly. Plus, the more sinister types of fairies have historically found many uses for inn
ocent children, and city living affords them the pick of the litter.

  My guide and stories will help to protect you. The more you know about fairies, the more likely you are to attract and befriend the lovely ones—and the better you’ll be able to protect yourself against those who wish you ill.

  You might ask: Why should I listen to you?

  Allow me to share my credentials. I have spent almost my entire life—seven decades—studying the ways of every known species of fairy. I’ve read nearly everything ever written on the subject, from crumbling ancient manuscripts in Scottish castles to pencil-scribbled descriptions of fairy sightings by Kansas farmwives. I’ve had countless firsthand encounters with fairies, from goblins to mermaids to winged sprites. Like the children in the following stories, I have what’s called fairy sight, which means that I can see fairies everywhere I go, whether they want me to spot them or not.

  You might envy me, but let me assure you: fairy sight is a mixed blessing. I can see a fantastical fairy wedding taking place in an ivy patch while you would unwittingly stump right past it. I would also notice, for example, that the fat fireflies hovering about in your backyard are not flies at all: they are disguised Helio fairies, who wake up and glow every evening at dusk. But I also see hideous goblins hunkered down in city alleys, eating neighborhood cats, and am often treated to the view of the fanged Noctis fairies, swirling about in the nighttime air on the backs of bats, scavenging for dead squirrels and mice.

  But you will learn about me and my own fairy encounters later.

  The bottom line: no one knows more about the wayward natures, properties, and habits of fairies than me, and I’ve chosen to share this information with you.

  Read this book all at once or a few chapters and entries at a time; carry it with you to reference it on the run.

  By the book’s end, you too will be an expert on the modern fairy world.

  Miss Edythe McFate

  New York City, 2010

  How to Tell a Good Fairy

  from a Bad One

  This is an extremely important entry and so is the next one; read them carefully, because this information could save your life someday.

  Over the centuries, people have come up with countless spells, chants, potions, and strategies to help you recognize a bad fairy and protect yourself from it. Most of them are pretty far-fetched. One potion recipe even calls for hair from the hind leg of a satyr (a creature that is half man, half horse), which you’re supposed to wear in a brass locket around your neck.

  Forget about such nonsense.

  Here is the easiest and most reliable trick in the world: if you encounter a fairy, place a penny on the floor right away.

  If the penny glows blue, you’re probably safe.

  If the penny glows green—or worse, black—run away immediately, and don’t look back for a second.

  If only the children in some of the tales ahead had known about this trick.

  How to Protect Yourself

  from a Dangerous Fairy

  In the past, people used some very odd things as charms to ward off pesky or dangerous fairies. Ancient books call for the use of churchyard mold or a pig’s head. One strange recipe calls for a mixture of “myrrh, wine, white incense, and shavings from an agate stone.”

  None of these things are exactly easy to locate in a supermarket today.

  Luckily, some old-fashioned fairy charms are still easy to find, such as daisies. Tied into a chain, they become especially powerful. To protect you while you’re asleep, roll up a sock and put it under your bed. No one knows why this keeps fairies away, but it does; maybe it has something to do with the stink of a dirty sock. Fairies are usually quite fastidious, and most of them cannot abide human stinks. Wearing your socks inside out will protect you on the go.

  If a bad fairy catches you by surprise and you aren’t wearing any socks and no daisies are available, do not panic. Just immediately say the following:

  North,

  South,

  East,

  West.

  Sun rise,

  Sun set.

  Repeat this easy-to-remember chant over and over, louder each time. It sounds silly, I agree, but it casts a spell on most breeds of fairies: when they hear it, they’re forced to take backward steps. It’s actually quite fascinating to watch this happen, but don’t stick around too long to gape. Once they’ve backed up far enough, get away from there as quickly as your legs can carry you.

  Gifts to Give Today’s Fairies

  Fairies love getting presents.

  It is a good idea to leave fairy presents out even if you’re not sure that one lives near you. A gift may prevent a mischievous fairy from interfering in your affairs; better yet, it may turn an appreciative fairy into your protector.

  And if you’re very lucky, a fairy may repay your kindness by letting you have a glimpse of him or her, even if you don’t have fairy sight.

  Old books and manuscripts instruct you to offer things like gold pieces, silver-winged dragonflies, and brass keys—expensive items that are not easy to come by today.

  But there are many things in your own closets, drawers, and kitchen cupboards that make perfect gifts for fairies.

  For example, they like anything shaped like little animals, such as goldfish crackers, animal crackers, gummi bears, and even gummi worms. They’re also partial to those charm bracelets and necklaces, and they are cuckoo about lockets; anything that has a secret or private compartment intrigues them.

  Next time your family eats corn on the cob for dinner, save some of the silk when you husk the corn beforehand. Leave it out for the fairies; they weave dresses and rugs and hammocks out of it.

  In the old days, people left little bowls of water on their hearths for fairy mothers to come and bathe their babies. This is still a nice thing to do for them. If you don’t have a hearth (meaning a fireplace), you can leave the bowl on a windowsill—preferably one bathed in moonlight. Make sure that it’s the nicest bowl you can find, and the water should be warm, but not too hot.

  An extra treat for fairy mothers: place a flower next to the bowl (preferably a rose, carnation, or chrysanthemum). Fairy mothers will place their babies on the flower petals to dry.

  Sometimes fairies will reward such gestures by giving you nice presents in return, as you will see in the next story.

  Tale No. 1

  The War at the

  Algonquin Hotel

  You’ve likely heard of the famous Algonquin Hotel on Manhattan’s West 44th Street, which sits like a tired, dignified old man with his back turned to the nearby carnival of Times Square.

  There was always something shady and calm about the Algonquin, which makes sense when you think about it. After all, hundreds of years ago, a magnificent oak tree lived where the hotel now stands.

  But then along came settlers, who eventually decided that they needed hotels with things like claw-footed bathtubs and room service. And so they raised their axes, and many thousands of chops and hacks later, the magnificent oak tree was gone and its wood was made into the frame of the Algonquin Hotel.

  It used to be quite a peculiar place. When you pushed through the heavy glass-and-oak doors into the lobby, the air grew heavier and wreathed around your shoulders like a fur shawl. This was all very strange until you realized that this is what it feels like when time is slowing down.

  If you needed proof that this was happening, you could have watched the old grandfather clock facing the concierge desk, which sighed rather than chimed; its spindly hands circled the yellowing clock face more slowly than the hands of every other clock in the world, and yet somehow the time was always right. A teacup that fell in the Algonquin took longer to hit the floor than anyplace else in the world.

  The Algonquin still managed to run like a normal hotel, despite the honey-in-winter pace of life there. Somehow towels got washed and pressed and arrived with lavender sweetness in all of the bathrooms; crisp newspapers appeared outside the door of each room at
dawn; hot meals were turned out of the kitchen in a timely manner, although usually in need of a little salt.

  But no one at the Algonquin could figure out exactly how things ran so smoothly. Not the ancient, white-gloved waiters, most of whom were as old as the grandfather clock; nor the kitchen staff; nor the chambermaids; and certainly not the sleepy, disheveled manager of the hotel, Mr. Harold Kneebone. When pressed on the subject, Mr. Kneebone would always say:

  “Who can say for sure what makes the clock tick, or the sun rise and set, or the wheat grow? These things just happen, that’s all.”

  And then, more often than not, he would nestle his face into his forearms and sail off into a soulful, sweet little nap.

  However, two Algonquin residents understood exactly why the establishment ran like clockwork.

  The first was a big, fat orange cat with yellow eyes named Mathilde, who lived in a little diorama of a room carved into one of the lobby walls. A golden-lettered wooden sign dangled above the cubby and proclaimed:

  And the second resident in the know was Olive, the eight-year-old daughter of the hotel chef.

  Olive was especially good at two things: making fruit salads and keeping secrets. Mathilde was her best friend, and when fruit-salad duty didn’t keep Olive in the kitchen, the girl and the cat sat in their favorite corner of the lobby behind a potted palm.

  One evening, the old headwaiter peeked around the palm to see what they were up to. Their heads were turning from side to side in unison.

  “What are you looking at, an invisible tennis match?” asked the headwaiter warily.

  “Nope,” said Olive.

  “Well, what, then?” pressed the headwaiter.

  Mathilde settled her chin onto her paws, her yellow eyes tracing invisible mice darting across the floor.

  “Just looking around,” Olive responded mysteriously.

  Not that the headwaiter would have believed Olive if she’d told him the truth: that she and Mathilde were watching brownies.