**
Lizzy Reads a Fairy Tale
Let your mind take a holiday once in a while.
–Harry Finkle
The next morning Robert persuaded Jack to go with him to the bakery. Robert could smell the fruit-filled scones in the light morning breeze. It wasn’t hard to convince Jack once his nose caught the scent, too.
Lizzy didn’t mind being left alone in the shop. Actually, she quite enjoyed it. She loved it when nothing could be heard except for the tick tock sound from the clock hanging on the wall. She could think better that way.
The shop bell rang, however, breaking Lizzy’s solitude. In the doorway a young man stood holding two books. It’s the young man from Mr. Wellington’s bookshop! Lizzy thought excitedly.
“Hello,” he said, smiling.
“Hello. Can I help you?” Lizzy asked with a squeaky voice.
“Yes, you can, actually. It took me a few days to find you. I believe I have a couple of things that belong to you.” He placed the two books he’d been carrying on the counter. “You left them behind.”
Lizzy let out a small squeal—not meaning to, of course. “Thank you! These are my books! I meant to return to Mr. Wellington’s shop, but I haven’t found the time.”
“They are your friends, as Mr. Wellington would say.” He laughed, and Lizzy giggled. “He’s quite a character."
“He’s the best,” Lizzy said, beaming.
“By the way, have you taken my advice?”
“What advice might that be?” Lizzy asked.
“My suggestion that you read something different, something more fun, perhaps. Like about fairies,” he said, grinning.
Lizzy scrunched her nose. Is he testing me to see if I would actually read something so trivial? Lizzy wondered. Or is he serious? “I’m not sure I have any books about fairies,” she said simply.
“I’m sure Mr. Wellington has many books about them. You should browse through them the next time you visit his shop. You might actually enjoy them.”
“Perhaps I will, but I’ll not make any promises,” Lizzy said, then she smiled.
“Please forgive me, I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Finian Beanly, but you may call me Fin,” he said.
Lizzy’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink, “It’s very nice to make your acquaintance, Fin, and to finally know your name. My name is Elizabeth Finkle, but I prefer to be called Lizzy.”
The shop bell chimed once again. Lizzy and Fin looked to see who had entered. There in the doorway stood the relentless Mr. Lowsley. Lizzy scrunched her nose. She didn’t trust Mr. Lowsley and didn’t like it when he visited.
Mr. Lowsley strolled casually over to the counter. He smiled at Lizzy, then turned to Fin. “Are you ready, my boy? I must be getting you back to your father.”
“Yes, sir, I’m ready,” Fin said, and turned to Lizzy. “It was very nice to officially meet you. I hope to see you again soon.” Mr. Lowsley had already crossed the room towards the door, impatiently waiting to leave.
“You know Mr. Lowsley?” Lizzy whispered. Her eyes grew wide. She gripped her books as she glanced at the man whose greed threatened to ruin Finkleton.
“Yes, I know him,” Fin said, laughing. “He’s my uncle.”
Lizzy was so taken back that she couldn’t say a word. She could barely believe her ears. Finian Beanly is related to that awful Mr. Lowsley! How could this be possible? she wondered. The two of them are completely different!
Lizzy didn’t want to have anything to do with anyone related to Mr. Lowsley. But Fin seems like such a nice young man, she thought. And it would be nice to talk to someone else about books.
“I hope to see you again. Maybe I’ll run into you at the bookshop?” Fin suggested, then nodded his head to bid Lizzy goodbye.
Lizzy didn’t respond. How could she? Maybe Fin wasn’t so bad, she thought. Maybe, just maybe, they could be friends. But she still didn’t have to like Mr. Lowsley. Lizzy watched Fin leave the shop, followed closely by his uncle.
Clearing her mind, Lizzy took the books Fin had returned to her and placed them in the library. She noticed the stack of books Robert had brought up from the hidden room. Lizzy slid them aside one by one and read the titles as she went.
The large book on the bottom of the pile caught her attention. Its title was The Fairies of Finkleton. This gave Lizzy a bit of a start. Why would Uncle Harry have a book about fairies? Lizzy laughed at the ridiculousness of it.
“Fairies aren’t real!” she blurted out loud. “They are silly little tales made up for the amusement of children.”
Still, the book looks harmless enough, Lizzy thought. Maybe Fin is right. Perhaps I should try to read something more fun, as he put it, and open up my imagination. What could it hurt? Even if I don’t enjoy it, I’ll at least be able to say that I tried.
Lizzy picked up the book and held it close to her. She returned to the shop, placed the book on the counter and began flipping through it, not really reading but browsing. Several pages in, she noticed a paragraph in large print:
Fairies are drawn to Finkleton for several reasons: minerals, vegetation, and of course, the weather. They reside in hidden realms beneath the village and rarely show themselves. A person can only enter the realm if invited by a fairy.
“That’s too bad, really,” Lizzy said out loud. “And I was going to start searching for a fairy realm! Silly me to think I could have found it without a fairy to invite me. What ever came over me?”
Lizzy laughed, then continued to flip through the pages until she came across a page with a small piece of loose parchment in it.
It’s Uncle Harry’s writing! Lizzy thought with excitement. Goodness, Uncle Harry tends to scribble notes and leave them in the most peculiar places. This book is turning out to be quite interesting, indeed. Lizzy read the note:
A word of warning to anyone who reads this: Do not ever say a fairy’s name out loud. If you do, then be prepared to have that fairy’s entire family in your life forever. Some of them are friendly and quite useful, while others are troublesome and quickly become a nuisance. You have been warned.
Uncle Harry believed in fairies? How could that be? Lizzy wondered. He was a sensible man. Why would he believe in such childishness? Out of the corner of her eye, Lizzy saw a flicker of something. When she quickly turned her head to see what it was, nothing was there. That’s odd. Maybe I need spectacles.
Lizzy tucked the piece of parchment into the back of the book and returned to browsing it. To her surprise, she found yet more of Uncle Harry’s scribbled writing down the side of another page.
Why did he feel the need to write in a perfectly good book? I’d never ruin a book by writing inside it, Lizzy thought. I am curious what Uncle Harry had to say, though. So Lizzy read the note:
The name of my fairy is Bobletty. He belongs to the Letty family. I call him Bob for short. It annoys him, but he pesters me to no end. He is a lazy little bugger and enjoys peeling the paint off my walls. He clutters up my storage room, then lays around eating. He enjoys causing chaos and leaves crumbs everywhere. His family is quite helpful and tries to keep him under control. But unfortunately Bob is beyond reasoning with and does what he wants. He is worse than a spoiled child.
Lizzy giggled. Do not ever say a fairy’s name out loud! This is simply a tale made up for children. Why would Uncle Harry write such nonsense? Lizzy wondered.
Lizzy placed her finger on the name Uncle Harry had written in the book. I’ll prove just how ridiculous this is, she thought. Then I can tell Fin the next time I see him and have a good laugh about it.
“Bobletty,” she whispered, testing the name out. “Bobletty,” Lizzy said more loudly, the name rolling off her tongue.
All of a sudden a flash of light zoomed across the room. A long sparkly trail followed the light in every direction, then disappeared as fast as it had appeared.
The light was fast! It flew around the shop, knocking over some items on one of the displays. Finally the light slowed down and landed on the counter directly in front of Lizzy.
“Fairies in Finkleton,” Lizzy whispered. “Father was right! They really do exist.”