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Water fairies and camera dates

from the March 2010 Star Beacon

by Emma

Dear Ann,
       Boy, do I have another story for you. I have been getting prepared for my first real art show, which was inspired by an attempt at a show in November. The leader of this Art Party, oddly enough, is a wizard at weaving and metal works. I have seen his magic tools.
       My brother came to get me and my things that I had done on purpose. I had three 3-foot boards to ensure I would not be missed. Hidden among the talents — that obviously had the same thought in mind. And because I saw that he had 14-foot walls for me to cover.
       The art show was on the 12th of February, the night of my first show with real other people I had never met. Before I left home, I mixed some blue and white paint together. Suddenly my eyes saw a fairy in the paint. I grabbed my camera and shot a picture of it.
       The time stamp later discovered that this blue fairy was filmed on the 12th of February. Keep this fact in mind, please; it’s the basis of this whole story.
       I left to go with my brother to the art show. Nervous wasn’t the word for it. Excited. Not at all worried that what I painted would embarrass anyone, including me. Those paintings were to get me started... for real.
I was in the passenger side of my brother’s truck. There is a back seat. My brother looked at me, as I looked at him. We heard something in the back seat. He thought nothing of it. But I recognized something from years ago during my first car wreck. I thought to myself, “It’s coming with me?”
       The sound we had heard was like a dog’s whining, “Can I come?”
I said to myself ignore it. If he’s in the truck already, he got in, like he had done in my car.
       I sat in the restaurant below where the show was going to be held. My brother went up to see what was going on. I had pretty flowers in front of me, with pretty things to take a picture of. It was 6:30 pm on the 12th.
Something happened to my time-stamp between the fairy picture and the restaurant. I found during downloading that it now read the 13th of February on every image following that.
       The art show was a bash. Great time, good people. I loved every moment of it. Met people I have something in common with. I will do that again.
       My brother then disappeared on me while the party was closing down. I had to find him a block and a half away at the town bar — which I did not want to go to in the first place. (There are evil people there.) I wanted to keep my happy mood and get home safely.
       This was now about 11:30 pm, the real 12th. The bartender gave us a drink and didn’t say anything about closing in a half hour. Again my brother vanished. I thought he went out for a smoke.
       The bartender came over to me and handed me another drink without my asking. But my brother must have paid for it already, so why not?
He leaned over and said to me, “Drink up fast. Your brother is outside waiting on you.”
       I thought, This is strange ...why give me something I’d have to chug?
Two people then walked in behind me. The bartender stopped them and said he was closed.
       “Tooly forgot to lock the doors,” a man laughed at the bartender.
I asked, “What time is it?”
       “TIME TO LEAVE!” this creepy Penguin looking guy, who had been glaring at me for a while, spouted in a greasy way.
       “No, I want to know the real time, bartender,” I replied to his nastiness.
       It was 12:13 am for real. I got a bit peeved when the Penguin replied to my question to the early closure and why turn away paying customers. He sat back in his stool with his privates facing me. “That’s bar hours.”
       I took my last few swallows and politely said, “Have a good evening.” Thinking to myself, I might get home in one piece tonight.
       There was a long hallway to the front door. It was dark. A big heavy wooden door. I grabbed the handle with my left hand. I looked back at the bar as I was pulling it open. That creepy Penguin rushed at me. I saw this man morph into a beast.
       I reacted to this with “What!” He hit me with his chest and backed me against the far wall in the darkness. “SO now you want to dance.”
       “NO!” he slobbered, and I bear hugged him and spun around him, grabbed the door again before it closed. And ran out!
       I jumped into my brother’s truck and said, “I think I was just assaulted.”
       I told him what happened as quickly as I could, just in case he cared for his sister enough to go back in there and find out what had just happened to me.
       He said, “Well, let’s just go home and sleep it off.”
       “I can’t. I’ve just swallowed a whole Jack and Coke. Now I am getting the rush from defending myself because you weren’t there. I need to go somewhere I know good people are, so that I don’t explode.”
       My own brother refused to stop. He refused to let me get out of the truck and walk some of this fight out of me. I was overwhelmed with anger at men who behave badly, and brothers who don’t defend.
       After 20 minutes of being trapped by men, I tried to get him to stop the truck and let me be free for a while. He took me to his house, not mine. I got so mad at him that I hit him with my camera, and then threw it out the window at 50 miles an hour. “NOW stop! I need to walk. I need to know that I am not being held captive by anyone.” He just kept on driving.
       So when we got to his house, I told him what I now thought about my brother and walked away. I ran down the hill past where I had destroyed my camera.
       Two miles it took of running to wear off the feeling of imprisonment.
       Then I hitched a ride the other nine miles. Then I called my brother and said, “Tell me I don’t know how to get myself home without you!”
The next morning when it was light, I asked my other brother, who lives with me, if he would take me to search for my camera.
       We drove the length twice, and once on foot. Couldn’t find a thing. It was gone forever. I had to accept that my attempt at freedom lost me my brand new camera. I felt so stupid, and yet not. If I can’t find it, who could?
       Then my son tried his luck at finding my camera today. And there it was, right out in the open. With other things that had fallen out of the truck when I opened the door in vain. He called me to say it was totally destroyed ... but the battery and the memory card were intact.
       It was only up on down loading the 84 images I could have lost forever — of my first art show. Then I saw the date stamp.
       What would cause the computer in a camera to spontaneously change the date? I cannot answer this question because the camera is demolished. I didn’t change the date. Why would I when it’s for records?
       But the fact that the camera was found with other things of mine gathered around it, when I had opened the truck door before flinging it out the window, there should be a bit of distance between ... but my son said he found it in a pile of trash from the truck.
       If I were to put a spin on the facts of this matter, I would have to say the water fairy who keeps popping up on important dates didn’t appreciate losing that information ... which was the changed date inside the machine.
And I think he helped get me around that nasty man at the bar. Or at least was warning me about him — to look back.
       I want to change the bad part of this adventure into something better than what it first appeared to be. I had such a good time at the art show that I rather believe the water fairy got into the truck with us and that he remained by my side throughout the whole ordeal with the evil people.
       I hadn’t said anything to my brother about the noise in his back seat. What is the significance of the number 13 and water fairies?

                                                 Love and light,
                                                 Port Angeles, Washington

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