I have to tell you... none of us are named "Tink" or "Sugerplum," and we're nothing like you see in the movies or on TV. Don't look so surprised. Yes, I know about all things human. We don't live in some fantastical magical forest, we don't glow in the dark, and there is no such thing as "pixie dust." We live in the real world, just like you do. We're around you all of the time. You just can't see us, because we don't appear in your light spectrum. You know how only dogs can hear dog whistles? Well, it's kind of like that.
Me? Oh, I'm Sam. And this is my job. You think I'm kidding? Look, fairies don't grant magical wishes or transform wooden puppets into real boys. That's for the fairy tales. (And how our names got attached to that lot, I'll never know!) What's my job? It's boring, really. You don't want to hear about...
You do? Alright then... Fairies keep track of and fulfill what you humans call "fate." Ever looked it up in the dictionary? From the Latin,
fatum,
literally, "what has been spoken," from neuter of
fatus,
past participle of
fari,
"to speak."
Fari... Fairy...
you see what happened there?
So, basically, I listen to
The Voice
and do its bidding. That's my job. I told you it was boring! Like today, I'm sitting on the arm of a recliner, next to Joe, here, who hasn't worked in two years. In fact, he's practically not left this recliner in two years. But today, Joe's got a job interview. How did that happen? Well, that was me. Joe used to work CAD in the auto industry. Today, he's got an interview with Boeing. He won't get the job. Of course, he doesn't know that. The important thing is, he needs to be late to his interview.
His wife, Lynn... that's her, over there, wiping her hands on the dish towel. She's been waitressing and borrowing money from her family, trying to keep them afloat. She's thrilled that he's got an interview, and is probably happier with him today than she's been in years. I can use that. Watch.
Joe's easy. Men are, you know. The power of suggestion is huge with them. All I have to do is stand on his shoulder and whisper into his ear. It's not talking, really, in case you were gonna call foul on the whole you can't see or hear us thing. You can't, trust me. It's more like... breathing. I just kind of lean in and breathe into his ear. It might translate into something, in words, like, "Look at your wife," and check it out, Joe's turning his head! See what I mean? Easy peasy.
"Are you ready, baby?" See how she comes to stand next to the recliner like that? That was me. Look at the way she's looking at him. So hopeful. Now she's staring at the Christmas tree in the corner and thinking about how they're going to afford presents, and hoping he'll get a paycheck again before then. God, this job sucks sometimes. I hate knowing what's going to happen next. It's like knowing the ending to every book. Why read, then, you know what I'm saying?
"As I'll ever be!" See how he smiles up at her? The way his eyes move over the front of her t-shirt? Yep, me again. Ahh, there we go. Lynn isn't as easy, but for women, I don't even have to be close. It isn't breath with them, it's more like a "push." I guess you'd call it a thought, a suggestion. It isn't really, but whatever it takes for you to at least sort of understand...