Peter R. Kohli

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Fairy Dust

Rosa on the beach looking for the fairy dust

“Mummy, Mummy, Mummy!” shouted Rosa taking a flying leap from the doorway of her parents’ bedroom and landing between them, something she had perfected over time, much to her parents’ dismay.

Sybil groaned when Rosa rolled on to her. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” she continued as her mother didn’t seem inclined to wake up. George, who was in the middle of dream number three, slowly opened his eyes and looked around him.

They locked onto his daughter, “what is it, Rosa?” he asked laying his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes.

“There’s fairy dust outside.”

“Fairy dust?” asked her father, now not quite sure if he had gone back to his dream or whether that was a lost cause. “What fairy dust?” George sat up and held his wing out to grab Rosa when she next landed on the bed. He did so adeptly. “What are you talking about?” and in the same breath asked, “what time is it.”

“Alexa!” Rosa shouted, “what time is it?”

“Did you have to ask so loudly?” Sybil now turned on her back and opened her eyes slowly, trying to focus on the roof. “George! There’s a hole in the roof. You need to fix that before it rains again.” George rolled his eyes. His day wasn’t starting out the way he had wished.

“8 am,” replied Alexa.

“Well Mummy, you asked me what time it was and I can’t read.”

“No Rosa, I didn’t ask you, your father asked you. I have a great idea George, why don’t you get up, take Rosa with you, make breakfast and bring it to me.”

“Julia is already making breakfast,” replied Rosa hoping her parents would ask what. Neither of them did. They knew that’s what Rosa wanted. “Don’t you want to know what Julia’s making?”

“No,” replied her parents in unison.

“Please ask? pleaded Rosa, “because it’s a surprise.”

“But it won’t be a surprise if you tell us.”

“Oh,” replied Rosa, “in that case I’ll tell you. It’s turkey bacon.”

Both parents fell back on their pillows. Turkey wasn’t on the top of their list.

It was the Friday after Thanksgiving. A Thanksgiving to remember. Not with turducken, which Rosa fought bravely to have on the table not that she really wanted it, but she knew the others didn’t. But there was the roast daikon radish brought by Pawo and his family which set everyone’s feathers on fire. It was that hot. Even Pawo remarked on it. “You never know,” he said, “I can get one daikon and it’s so mild, and then the next one burns your throat.”

As a comprise, they had a turkey. Well, not a whole turkey, but a turkey breast because there was no way according to Sybil did it look like a real bird. Rosa, who had never tasted turkey before, agreed.

Everyone from the party had left late, very late. Even the children left late, but that didn’t stop Rosa from getting up at her usual time of 7.

Timmy sauntered into the bedroom feeling he could because Rosa had. “I hope everyone gets up before shabbat starts!” he said jumping on the bed. But unlike Rosa who was bouncing up and down taking advantage of her father letting go of her wing, Timothy sat on the edge of the bed.

“Timmy, why don’t you go back to bed. You were probably up the latest, discussing religion and philosophy with Pawo.”

“He’s a very interesting man,” replied Timmy, thinking back to the evening, “there are things in Buddhism that are very appealing.”

Rosa stopped her bouncing. “I’ll tell the Rabbi.”

“Don’t worry the Rabbi is here,” replied her father.

“No, no, I didn’t mean you daddy. You’re just a Rabbi. But Rabbi Krupnick, Melanie’s dad. He won’t be pleased.”

“Believe me,” replied George, now having given up trying to reconnect with his dream, “Rabbi Krupnick would probably put Pawo up on the bema to talk to his congregation of left-wing nuts.”

Rosa had forgotten what she had originally come in for, but suddenly remembered when Julia stuck her head in the doorway and shouted, “breakfast is ready!”

“Are we really having turkey bacon?” asked Sybil, trying to find a reason to delay her getting up.

“It’s either that,” replied Julia, “or pork bacon and we can’t have that.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“You can have breakfast and look outside at the fairy dust,” Rosa was excited.

“That’s not fairy dust,” replied an exasperated sounding Timmy.

“Yes it is,” Rosa was adamant.

“No it isn’t, that’s snow.”

“No, that’s not snow. I’ve seen snow on my Unicorn TV show and it doesn’t look like what’s outside. And it doesn’t snow here anyway.”

Sybil was now up and seeing that George was still laying down, threw back the covers and both Timmy and Rosa laughed.

“Where did you get those pyjamas from?” asked Rosa. Julia came back in and began to laugh as well.

“Daddy,” she said, “how can you wear pyjamas with sparrows on them! I hope Pawo and his family don’t see you in them, they might be highly offended.”

“I don’t think anyone outside this house will see me in pyjamas.”

“But I can tell them, guess what my dad sleeps in pyjamas with Buddhists all over them.” “Listen young lady,” Sybil finally said, “if you do, then you’ll have to find another place to live.” Rosa didn’t believe her mother.

George swung his feet over the side of the bed and put on his fur lined slippers, “ok, young lady, show me the fairy dust.” Rosa was thrilled. She jumped down from the bed and grabbed her father’s wing. She led him into the living room which overlooked the ocean and then she stopped and her beak fell open. She didn’t realise it, but by the time everyone got there, the sun had risen and melted the dusting of snow. She was heartbroken.

George realised that and picked her up. He then took her to the other-side of the nest where the sun hadn’t reached yet. Rosa let out a shriek of delight. “See, see, Daddy! That’s fairy dust. I told you.”

She jumped down and ran to tell the others. She had to drag her mother over to where her father was still standing wondering how he was going to tell his daughter it was a dusting of snow and not fairy dust. They all joined him. Timmy was about to open his mouth when George cleared his throat, a sign for no one to say anything until the father had spoken. “I think Rosa is quite right, this is not snow. Because if it was snow, it would be on both sides of the nest and it’s only on the side of the nest where she has her bedroom. So, it has to be fairy dust! Don’t you all agree?”

Yes of course, everyone agreed. “Ok, now that’s settled, can we have breakfast?” he added he was looking forward to the turkey bacon.

“Daddy,” said Rosa rather quietly. “Daddy, thank you for believing in me. You’re the best.”

He hugged his daughter and whispered, “isn’t that what dads are supposed to do?”

The others had already left the room and were sitting in the kitchen.