“Fiona?” It was Aerya, wearing a pair of pink overalls with a long sleeve, light blue knit shirt with butterflies. The overalls were too short for Aeyra, and when she saw them, Fiona always felt a little embarrassed for her friend in wearing them. Why, she asked once, do you want to wear high water pants? Because it is easier to see the bunnies, said Aerya. She was referring to the slippers that she had on her feet. The eyes of the bunnies gleamed as if they were proud of their place in Aerya’s heart.
“Yes?” asked Fiona, who was sitting on the couch, reading. She had several books with her. The book she was reading at the moment of interruption was a collection of stories from around the world which featured girls as the heroines.
“When is your birthday?”
“It’s in February.”
“Has it passed?” asked Aerya. She was clueless about calendars. Apparently, a fairy princess didn’t need a calendar. In her world, there was always someone to tell you the day if you needed to know it.
“Yes, Aerya, several months ago. Why?”
Aerya came over and sat down on the couch. Her black hair, straight and shiny as ever, hung nearly to the middle of her back. It shone as bright as polished coal by a fireplace, or a flashing raven’s wing in the sunshine. Against the pink straps of the overalls, it looked especially dark. Aerya twirled a strand as she talked.
“You are a really good friend, and I want to give you a present. I thought that your birthday would be the right time for that.”
A present? This was something new, in a time when there was so much new! Aerya, the lost fairy princess, continued to live with Fiona, and Fiona found that almost every day was an adventure. It was fun to have Aerya as a sister, even if she knew almost nothing about the human world. At least she learned fast - when she wanted to. Fiona suspected that sometimes, Aerya pretended not to know something because it worked into her plans a little better. Like the incident with the pamcakes. Or the time at the library. A present, now, that could only mean something good!
“We give presents on birthdays, and at Christmas.”
“Are those the only times?”
“Oh no, Aerya, you can give a present any time. Sometimes people give presents at other holidays, like Valentine’s Day, and sometimes we give presents because it is a nice thing to do.”
“I like that. I want to give you a present because it is a nice thing to do.”
“You can if you want to. Do you need my dad to take you shopping?”
“Oh no, Fiona, I am going to make this present! You give hand made presents, don’t you?”
“Uh huh.” Fiona patiently answered the question, ready to answer it again. With Aerya, you sometimes had to answer, re-answer, and keep answering the same question. 3, 4, and once, even 10 times until Aerya was satisfied with the answer. Was it the way Fiona talked, or the way Aerya listened? Fiona was never sure, so she cultivated patience as a way to handle Aerya.
“This will be a special present, one I am sure you have never had before.”
“That sounds cool, Aerya. Do you need my help?”
“No, this will be a surprise. I will do it all by myself.”
“Okay.”
“Actually,” said Aerya, letting go of the strand of hair, “I do need your help.”
“Alright.” Fiona looked at the page number in her book, and closed it.
“Only if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“Totally sure.”
“Because I can wait and ask Mr. Dad if you prefer.”
“No, I am happy to help. What do you want?”
“Well, I would like a pair of sharp scissors.” Aerya smiled. That smile should have worried Fiona. If she wasn’t still thinking about the girl in the story she was reading, it would have worried Fiona. She would have run through her catalog of Aerya smiles, and spotted this smile as trouble. It was the look of early glee that a boy might have when waiting for a teacher to find the rubber spider in a desk drawer. Except Aerya never intended any trouble. It just magically followed in her footsteps.
And today, Fiona was distracted by her story, and didn’t notice the smile. She didn’t compare it in her catalog of Aerya smiles, or think about a rubber spider. Instead, she said,
“Sure, follow me.”
She lead Aerya to the craft box where various scissors were stored. There were the plastic, hardly cuts any paper scissors that adults give to little children. With these scissors, fingers, clothes, and a child’s hair are all safe. Next were the metal scissors with the wide, round ends. These would cut paper, at least when the paper cooperated, though skin was pretty safe. These are the scissors children get when parents are tired of showing that plastic scissors can really cut. Then there were a pair of real scissors. These could cut almost anything with their 4 inch blades. The ends were not sharp, but these were real scissors. Aerya carefully tested the edge of the scissors, and shook her head.
“No, I need sharper scissors,” she said.
“Oh, you want the ‘good scissors’,” said Fiona.
‘Good scissors’, as every kid knows, are the scissors parents reserve for themselves. Long metal blades, often polished a bright silver, with a crisp whishing sound that is efficient and authoritative. Early in life, children are told that these are the ‘good scissors’, and they are never to use them. Sometimes the ‘good scissors’ are kept just for fabric. Sometimes, they are used for craft books or removing articles from newspapers. No matter what the purpose, the ‘good scissors’ have a special purpose. As children get older, the ‘good scissors’ are taken out to help a child with a project, then carefully returned to their special place. Almost all parents have a pair of ‘good scissors’.
At ten years old, Fiona thought she was old enough to know when a project justified the ‘good scissors’. Aerya was fairly reliable, and this was a present for Fiona. Clearly, it was a moment for the ‘good scissors’. She lead Aerya to her dad’s office. In the second drawer, way in the back, covered with an old pad of paper, were the ‘good scissors’.
They had a holster made with fake leather lined with velvet that brushed the surface clean as the scissors left the holster. The scissors were ten inches long, with a mirror polish on the metal. Fiona took them from the drawer, and turned to Aerya.
“You have to be really careful with these.”
“Alright,” said Aerya, reaching for the scissors.
“Wait a minute, there’s more. You can’t use these on cardboard -”
“Card board?”
“That’s the stuff they use to make boxes.”
“Oh, alright.” Again Aerya reached for the scissors, and Fiona pulled back.
“You can only use these on cloth, string, yarn, or thin paper.”
“I understand. I am only going to use them on cloth.”
“Okay, that’s good.” Fiona handed the scissors to Aerya. She took them out, opened them, and carefully touched the edge of the blades.
“These are really sharp!”
“Yes, so be careful. If you hurt yourself, my dad will be mad at me.” Fiona closed the desk drawer. “And when you are done, tell me right away so I can put them back.”
“I will. Now, do you have any needles?” Aerya’s eyes sparkled.
“Yes, I do, in my sewing kit. Come on, that’s in our room.”
Together they went to the bedroom the girls shared. In no time, Fiona found the sewing needles. Aerya assured her that she didn’t need thread, or the fabric measuring tape which was also in Fiona’s sewing kit.
“Is that it?”
“Yup, that’s all I need. Thank you! Now go back to reading so I can make your present.”
As Fiona left, Aerya closed the door of the bedroom. Leaving Aerya with the ‘good scissors’ and sewing needles, Fiona went back to the living room and continued reading her book.
-- End Pt. 1 --
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