Whimsey & Widdershins

The beginning of more to come...

Mabel wore turquoise dresses and tiny white slippers and all things lovely and fine. Her hair curled wild and innocent, and her smile was enchanting. Mabel was fully aware of her appearance’s effect, for it told the story she wanted it to tell, but her eyes, with their glint of mischief, told another. They spoke the truth, although beguiled strangers never seemed to notice. Except Billy Widdershins, and it just about ruined her life.   

Mable was a changeling. She had been swapped at birth, abandoned to be raised by humans. As she grew older, Mabel found herself out of sync with the human realm. But Nature spoke to her soul. As often as she could sneak away, Mable spent hours wandering the forest as the Goddess led, talking with the plants and the folk.

Once, during a good long wander, she came upon upon a bend in the road. The road veered left, but to the right an unmarked trail peeled off and vanished into the thick undergrowth. Standing at the crossroads, nearly hidden from view, a tiny man waited for Miss Mabel. It was her hairy-eared uncle who’d been expecting her return. He beckoned with one finger, while holding a second to his lips. She nodded, understanding the need for silence. As if this were as normal as the new moon, Mabel followed him without a second thought.

The two skedaddled off into the woods, down the path, through the briars, and into Moss Hollow, home to the local band of the High Holy Pranksters: The Reveling Fae, which Mable joined with such abandon that a fight actually broke out.

Henry Toadstool said she’d been reveling all her long life, for in Moss Hollow Mable was actually twice as old as in the human realm, and ten years is a rather long time to an eight-year-old like Henry. But Billy Widdershins said Mable had only been reveling for half that time. And that’s what a hearty joining in will do for you - they won’t be thinking you’re new, they’ll be fighting over how many years you’ve been at it!

Now all of this suited Mable just fine. Of course not the fighting. What suited her was absolutely everything else. For at last she was on time, on topic, and in sync with those around her. No one thought it strange when the trees bent in greeting or the daisies asked for a wee bit more water. She got no strange looks when butterflies landed in her hair, and she was never reprimanded for the gaggle of frogs that followed her about. How could humans have thought it strange that life interacts with life? It was no surprise then that Mabel slid right into life in the Hollow with nothing more than a wee bit of notice.

And who did that wee bit of noticing? None other than Billy Widdershins, who just wouldn’t let it go. He knew Mabel was keeping a secret. He could see it in her eyes.

“Where did you come from?” Billy demanded of Mabel one drizzly morning, his face scrunched up like he’d just smelled what comes out of the backside of a banana slug.

“Why Billy, you startled me!” Mabel laughed, ignoring his rudeness. Flashing him an enchanting smile, she opened the door to Mrs. Hollybottom’s Pie Shop and replied, “I came from home, just like you did.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he pressed. Clearly her smile had not worked. “Where did you live before you lived here?”

“I’ve lived in the forest all my life,” Mabel answered sweetly. Adding, as she entered the shop, “just like you.”

Mabel would never let Billy know her secrets. She was born a Fae, and it wasn’t her fault she was swapped as a changeling. It was such an honor when she’d done it, but that was because changelings left forever. It’s easy to proclaim how honorable a person is when the rules are you can leave but don’t ever come back. Once you’ve lived with the humans you are damaged goods that don’t quite belong anywhere.

It was a terrible system, and she was caught up in it - but only if she were discovered. Billy Widdershins must never know the truth, and she knew who to ask for help.

After a breakfast of the most delicious huckleberry crumble she’d ever eaten, Mable left Mrs. Hollybottom’s and set off for the edge of The Edge.

The Edge was where the Hollow turned from platted town to wild forest. Mabel was going a bit farther, past the sword fern boundary to where full wildness waited for any who tempted the Fates by visiting.

Old Woman Whimsy lived in this wildness. Unable to give a straight answer, or really any answer at all, she lived in a world even the Fae found to be too much, but which Mabel rather liked.

The trick was Old Whimsy’s meanings were like stars that disappeared when you looked right at 'em. Glance askew, and suddenly there they are, twinkling bright as ever. Listen to what Whimsey said and lunacy crept in. Feel the meaning of her words and the message was as clear as snow: it had the ability to be transparent.

Mabel followed the main road out of town until it grew so narrow and so unused that she couldn’t be sure she was actually following a path at all. As she walked, she sang the directions all Moss Hollow children knew:

Whimsy, Whimsy

Edge of The Edge

Three doors down from

The poisonous hedge

Kick of the knot or

Stub of your toe

Opens up the hatch

And down you go!

Whimsy was not crazy, but she knew it helped if the Hollow thought her to be. So she made up the rhyme and built a trap-door entrance, sprung by stepping on the proper spot on a tree root. In turn, this dropped her visitors onto a hollowed log slide, which deposited them at her back door. (Whimsy didn’t believe in front doors and had hers removed before she’d step foot in the house.)

Straightening her turquoise skirt, Mabel found herself standing on Whimsy’s porch. She pulled on a chain of wildflowers that hung to its right, and a tiny door sprang open. Built into the bottom of Whimsey’s door, this smaller door gave passage to a troupe of Brownies, who now surrounded Mabel, armed with brooms, brushes, pails, and towels.

“On your tip toes, “ one commanded.

Obliging, Mabel lifted her heels and the crew set to work, cleaning every square inch of her shoes, except the part she was balancing upon.

Sooner than she could believe, the same voice announced, “Now the heels,” and back she rocked.

Their job complete, the Nooks returned through the back door as Old Woman Whimsy flung open a second story window and shouted, “Pickles and parsnips!”

It was the warmest welcome Mabel had ever received, so she entered Whimsey’s kitchen, taking a seat near the hearth.

Whimsy rushed into the room, took Mabel’s hand, and looked directly into her eyes as she asked with all seriousness, “Is the pig raining today?”

Mabel felt the invitation to begin, so she gathered her courage and told Whimsy her whole tale, from faeling to changling to now. When she finished, Whimsy nodded and nodded and kept on nodding as she made rose petal tea in chipped cups.

Over their tea, Mabel and Whimsy stared at each other. Finally, Whimsy spoke. “There will be no flowers today,” she began, “not even if you wanted one for your hat. No rainbows, no shooting stars, no dragonflies. Just mustard and a hairbrush with a little syrup.”

“Yes! That’s it!” cried Mabel. “Brilliant, Whimsy, just brilliant!”

Whimsy’s face crinkled with delight.

“I will tell him a truth so sweet he’ll believe it, and make it seem so boringly ordinary he’ll ask no more questions.”

“Bumblebees and beetles,” agreed Whimsy, “Bumblebees and beetles.”