The Druid Of Chicago, Chapter 3
by Tim O'Connell

Of Course There’s a Fairy

Jackie sighed and took three deep breaths, one for his center, one for his heart, one for his head. Find your center, clear your center. Find your heart, clear your heart. Find your mind, clear your mind. Clearing his mind took some additional breaths. All the partying he’d done with Jules and Kat hung around the fringes of his consciousness like dust-bunnies. He shot his attention at the five across the two softball fields and didn’t think he wanted to face them fuzzy. He felt the green energy from the earth spiral up through his legs; he felt the silver energy from the sky spiral down through the crown of his head. The energies met in his three cauldrons, as Gran would call them, and against everything he’d learned in his Art and Physics classes, but right along the lines of his Gran’s stories, the energies became the blue fire that he seemed able to control. Witchfire. Somehow he’d tapped into witchfire. Gran’s stories?

The fact that all of her stories seemed to be coming to life in one night, in HIS body and at Touhy fucking Park no less, was completely freaking his shit. He’d imagined these energies before in his meditations. He’d thought he’d almost managed to blend earth and sky together before but…just as he’d felt the shift to blue, part of him would crow triumphantly, “There it is!” and of course, it would be gone.

“So what’s different about tonight?” he asked the night outloud.

You’d think he wouldn’t have been surprised that the night answered but…

From up above a small, strong, deeply silky feminine voice with a pure South Side accent explained, “Dat’s because dohs two witches spent da last three days preparing you. What, yous thought maybe it was just a long party? Fuckin’ Jules. How many times I’m gonna hafta tell dat slitch dat she needs to TELL her clients what she’s doin’?”

park.jpg Jack started and half-ducked while raising his arm defensively and looking up, just a bit of blue flashed from the oak in his hand but didn’t reach the owner of the voice…luckily, since the voice seemed to be coming from…sigh…a four inch tall winged fairy. Just when he knew the morning wasn’t going to get any weirder, tah dah. The fairy glowed a bit silver herself when she saw the witchfire, “Whoa! Easy big guy, I’m on your side.” Jack half heard, half felt a yelp come from the five, but his attention was fully on the fairy flitting about the lower limb of the oak above his head. He made sure his energy was under control but didn’t quite drop his arm all the way to his side. Jack got control of himself and looked closer and what he saw made him glad he was a boy. Long BLACK curly locks down past her shoulders but not covering a set of full tits capped with large and currently very pointy nipples. A heart shaped face surrounded full rose bud lips and emerald, almond shaped but at-the-same-time huge eyes and a little perfect nose. Full hips surrounding, I shit you not, a heart shaped redder than HIS hair bush over bald and full lips. Her ivory white skin was covered in the most intricate dark green Celtic knotwork he’d ever seen. He wondered if it was ink, tattoos or…just the way her skin was?

Jack gave up his famous off center grin, the one that made his Mom call him her lil Elvis, “Okay…I’ll bite. Who might you be?”

The fairy laughed a deep, sexy, chuckle that sounded just wrong coming out of something so small. “You want my name? Out here? In da open? Wit dohs five standing right over dere and a portal to da Udderworld standing wide open? Oh, you’re funny Boyo. You’re a real fucking comedian. Next you’re gonna tell me your Gran didn’t teach you better.” She jiggled in the most amazing way as she continued to laugh at the boy, but Jack was starting to lose his patience. All things considered, he thought he was holding up pretty well, but the fairy laughing at HIM after what he’d put up with so far, was just about to unravel his last good nerve.

“Okay, fairy,” he said it like it was a bad thing which made her frown, “let’s put this into perspective for you. As far as I’m concerned, I was out partying for St Pats with Jules and Kat, two girls I’ve known forever who have never shown me anything resembling witchiness, and ummm, by the way, have never mentioned hanging out with a fairy, so I already think you’re full of shite. I’m on my way home to crash after afore mentioned partying and the pretend, let me say that again so you catch it, pre-tend magic bush that my Gran and I used to make up stories about apparently DOES have some very real magical properties and there are five things over there that I don’t know much about other than there’s something in my gut which tells me that they don’t belong here. Out of almost nowhere, I’m able to combine green and silver meditation energies, stuff from my imagination mind you, into blue guardian’s witchfire. Don’t ask me how I know what to call it, I just do, and that bugs me too. What else? Ummm, there’s something deep inside of me that seems to truly need me to blast the living shite out of those five critters over there without asking any questions and I have no doubt I COULD do that, but again, don’t ask me how I know that. What have I left out? Hmmm, those are summer stars up there and it’s still fucking March, I smell blossoms when I should be smelling Captain Nemo’s Sub Sandwich fixin’s or oil from the garage next door or fruit from the fruit stand up on Clark Street, and it’s probably 80 degrees outside, which makes me say again, it’s fucking MARCH. Oh, and just for fun, there’s a naked, sexy as hell, four-inch fairy flitting about above my head blowing me shit. Care to fill in the blanks for me?” She seemed to smile at the “sexy” description for a second but frowned again, deeper, and with some worry as Jack wrapped up.

Her South Side slipped a bit into brogue as she put her fists on her hips, “You mean to be tellin’ me that you’ve no idea what you’re doing here or what those are?” She was pointing at the five.

“You got it Irish. You win a cookie.” Mom would like that one, she loves Don Rickles. Hey Mom, I dropped a Don Rickles on this fairy…no, not a gay boy from Wrigleyville, a real….nevermind…you want me to build you another vodka and lemon-lime?

The fairy looked like she was ready to kill something as she flashed hot silver again, a couple of the five yelped this time. Jackie just squinted.

“I’m NOT Irish you big human lout!” she fired in a very good brogue, but that was clearly not what was bothering her as she flitted/paced back and forth. There was a dark, ugly chuckle/yip thing from the five and it spread quickly as her pacing quickened. The fairy glanced their way and flashed silver again…which caused a chorus of yelps and angry noises, some of them forming the words, “You go too far…” before fading into mumbles and curses and, Jack could feel, no small elation.

Muttering something that sounded like, “I’m soooo going to kill that slitch.” she stopped and hovered for a moment, closing her eyes the way Jack had seen his Gran and Sister Margaret do, hands spread wide about a foot away from her body at her sides…her eyes not fully closed but not open by any means and he knew she was searching, seeking…walking paths he’d never ventured upon…or thought he truly could. He couldn’t help but check out her nipples…damn those are freaking amazing.

Everything before this moment had led Jack to believe that most, not all, but most of what his Gran had taught him were the ravings of a wonderfully crazy old lady whom Jack had loved with all his heart. He was still playing catch up with the reality of the non-real things happening and something told him he had absolutely no time for that.

fairy.jpg The fairy sighed deeply and opened her eyes, fully busting Jack checking her out, which made her smile again.

“Well, I have good news and I have bad news. Da good news is help is coming.” She sighed again. “Da bad news is dat help is about 15 minutes away from here no matter what dey do to get here, and dohs guys over dere?” She pointed at the five. “Dey just began thinkin’ dat dey can take you and dey’re moving dis way.”

Jack looked over as the five began moving, albeit slowly across the fields.

“So what do we do?” asked Jack, falling into her eyes now.

The fairy looked truly sad and sounded much older and wearier than Jack thought would be possible out of something THAT cute. “WE don’t do anything Boyo. My kind can’t interfere directly. I may pay dearly for holding dem off dis long. Da best I can do is give you my blessing and make a few things clearer in da process. Bow your head.”

Jack did as he was told though God only knows why. He could hear her muttering in what he thought was Gaelic at first but he couldn’t understand a single word, like back when Gran first began to teach him, and he felt silver light falling on his head and shoulders like light and musk imbued rain. Both thinner and yet purer and stronger than the light he pulled from the sky. All of his doubts about what was real and what wasn’t fell away with each breath of light and sound like musical rain, and scent…he knew…he knew it all... he KNEW dammit, and…oh son of a fucking bitch!

Jackie looked up, “Did I just let a fairy pee about my head and shoulders?”

She giggled, flitted down and kissed him on the cheek, “Aye, Boyo, that you did, now calm yourself, dat’s da price you pay for my blessing…dis time. Next time I’m gonna want quite a bit more. And trust me, that cost me a LOT more than it cost your pride.” She flit lower, bit his lower lip, drawing blood, and flitted back up into the oak. “Ow…dammit.” But he didn’t get riled. He was too distracted wondering how he could make it work with a four inch schizophrenic fairy and then more so by clarity of thought he’d never experienced. He knew exactly what to do…with the five…he’d work out the fairy later. Maybe she could shrink him magically when they both had more time.

He could hear her voice like a chant of old, almost sounding exactly like Gran at her prayers except the fairy was in his head, “Calm yourself Boyo. Slow down. They’re not from your world. Go too fast and you’ll miss them entirely. They don’t move at our speed. Slowly, slowwwwwwllllly, that’s it. See their rhythm? Breathe their rhythm. Now get under it. Under it…slow and steady…there ya go…and remember, they don’t much like circles.”

Jack took three deep breaths and then quite slowly, and with a grace he’d never before experienced, moved out from under the tree and circled to the right around the five, not directly at them…who stopped dead in their tracks. None of them were chuckling at all. Four of them were looking at the one in the lead and middle. That one was focused on Jack, drinking him in with his black eyes, smelling the air. Jack sucked blood off his lower lip as he rolled out and around, getting a charge as he did so, “Oh good…” he thought, “Now I know which one to blast first.”

Jackie Finneran, Jack Finn, threw his head back and crowed, feeling a rush that he never dreamed possible. Witchfire filled his veins. He was madly in love with a

This time when he crowed, the magic didn’t run away. A mist arose around him, embracing him, cooling and energizing him. He had nothing to do with that, that was the park offering its help to the little boy it helped raise.

The five weren’t chuckling now as the mist rose around the Jack. They didn’t quite know what to do, so they howled together in voices that had never…ever…been human to answer his crowing. Jackie paused as everything human about them faded away in the mist.

Jack just giggled. Werewolves…fucking werewolves…of course…makes perfect sense.

The editors realize, in retrospect, that werewolves do make perfect sense.

The Back Booth Archives


Great chapter!!


Looking forward to next week man!


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