Myrtle …….
Once upon a time in the old cold hills of a north English town, there lived a bevy of
beautiful girls. Beautiful all, though the Headmistress might not say so to each of them
directly. Some were fatter, some thinner, some had a hare lip and some were tangled in
ribbons and bows.
They all were here this night sleeping. Four in a room and fourteen rooms on a floor.
Schooling together, it was said. Schooling and learning a little too, thought the
Headmistress. This the girls believed, though some secretly wondered if this is where
their parents put bad little girls, who didn’t sleep soundly.
Even Samantha and Sandy, who wondered such things, had to admit that it all was not bad
(apart from the steamy oats in the morning). Samantha got to sing first all the time in
the morning, Headmistress said her voice was melodic. Sandy played nasty now and again.
Sometimes she saw stars as her punishment, but most times she saw an angry face soften to
concern. "its not too bad," Sandy said all the time to herself.
This night they lay sleeping in their cots and their beds, tossed in with their
carelessly placed blankets. A row of bodies and blankets and clocks. Each face glowed a
little differently, each poised for a ring-a-ding or a beep beep beep hours later.
Samantha always set hers first, the earliest to go off. This way she could wash and sing
and sit for breakfast before the other girls. She liked being first. Samantha’s clock
often sounded the other girls into a half-sleepy state of forgiveness. "that alarm
again!" they would say to themselves, "hhh, not time yet," as they listened
one-eared for their unique beep or ring-a-ding or moo-cluck-cluck. Oh yes, that was Hilary
with the farm animal alarm. Hers always went off last and Hilary was glad. Already awake,
she could hear the sound and remember the animals she left behind on her family’s old
farm years ago.
So, this night they lay sleeping, and the headmistress was reading. Ooops! Not anymore!
Headmistress "retired" she said, and put the book down and shut off the
light. Down the hall and to the right, the last bit of light disappeared into the night.
The quiet was full and the rustling was rampant. "Oh," said the Sandy to
herself, "I guess I can rest now. The night is so damp, but the lamp keeps me awake
no longer…"
So, this night they all lay sleeping.
Myrtle slid up from her place on the left of the center. She gently rose and twirled
and lay down again. A moment to plan, she thought. "What do the girls have in store
for tonight?" She asked herself this with an air of delight.
Myrtle gently crept by Samantha’s pillow and reached up and under it. "Nothing
but an extra hair or two." Myrtle rustled under, "but she’s always
first…." Myrtle wondered. Myrtle shifted and left her questions behind her. Up
and under Sandy’s pillow, and Hilary’s too. Up and under Margaret’s head
and shoulders, she reached ever so gently. "Nothing tonight!" she thought and
proceded to do a fairy dance around the bedroom, leaping lover-ly around from the right.
"Myrtle the Turtle" the girls often said as they drifted off to sleep. This
was the name they gave her as they mumble in bed. Much fancier than "tooth
fairy" or "nymph" or "godmother." Much more earthy than
"twinkly" or "breathy" (though these were much better descriptions).
Myrtle it was, and Myrtle made her laugh. "I love these girls," she thought,
"but with them, I never get to play…. How can this night be different?" she
mused to herself. "There are no teeth to transform, no notes, or diaries to read.
What is a Myrtle to do?" she giggled a tune.
PART II
Suddenly, Myrtle had an idea. Her many long nights of toothless musing had given her a
pot of golden coins. All that time and no teeth to transform: she had taken to collecting
from behind sofa cushions and under closet boxes. A pot of coins she had nearby: many,
many more than she could possibly give away to these tooth filled wonder girls. The coins
were for them, but she could only put a small handful under each pillow per tooth, or else
stir them awake and ruin their sleep. "But to play, to play, to hear Samantha sing
and Sandy whine, to hear moo, oink, cluck, cluck in the middle of the night!" Myrtle
twirled and twirled with delight and made a plan to have fun that night.
"Wake up dear Samantha, Wake up Sandy too. Wake up Hilary and Margaret" she
gently whispered in each girl’s ear. "Time to get up and reach for the pot of
gold."
"Oh Myrtle," one girl rolled over and mumbled in a whispery voice, "not
now, not now…." and her voice trailed off.
Myrtle was shocked and surprised to be recognized, but then she realized the girl was
still in dreamland and so, could ever so faintly hear her speaking. "Wake up dear
Sandy" she stated abruptly, and Sandy pulled a pillow over her head in a hurry.
"Nah!" she said with a start and heard beeping and beeping flying around the
room over her head. "Its not time yet. I know it!" she said as she rolled into a
rumpus and buried her head.
"Wake up dear Margaret", she tickled near Margaret’s ear, "the
riches are calling you!" Still no response…although maybe that sleepy swat at
the fly round the neck was a sign of awakening. "Are you up?" Myrtle pleaded. A
smile, a swat, and still no result.
Down the hall next, and Myrtle went, one by one, to each girl’s bed.
"No," they whispered in their sleep, "no , not just yet." The
Headmistresses room was aglow with more heat. She turned it up often, to soften her feet.
"Shall I go into that room?" Ms. Turtle whispered to herself with a spin.
"No, not tonight. The Spirits are in her." Myrtle knew that a little nip was
taken before bed, with the book and the light and the crumpet with jam. A warmness she
cradled in her stomach & her head.
Myrtle did not do justice to her name. Instead she flew, danced and sparkled her way
back down the hall to the first room on the right. Not a single tooth or girl to wake up
early. Not a one for tonight.
"Well, what about Hilary?" Myrtle thought to herself, with a shake and a pinch
and a glance at the shelf. "Still hours ‘til daybreak and hours more till
they’re gone. Her clock is set to go last. Why must I bother now, she will surely say
"NO"?" Still a fairy never questions a good question or two, knowing the
answers always and only come in the room of the girls she glances over and plays for at
night.
"My head can be wrong at times, but my hand never lies. I can find a coin, a
tooth, a diary and inside it read the secrets of these girls, and with a quick breath and
a gentle pull of the covers, I love them even more."
"Hilary may be the slowest and dirtiest, but my hand always warms when I reach
under her pillow to check on her status." And since when is a slowness a fairy’s
foe, or dirt, when I bury the treasures in troves!"
"Hilary," Myrtle snuck in by the top of her head, "its me, your friend.
Oink Oink, Chirp Chirp." Hilarys dreams now interrupted: a goose that sounds like a
pig can do that to a dream. Hilary rustled her hands under the covers. Myrtle noticed she
twinkled her toes too (or was that a twonkle?!).
"Yes Myrtle?" said Hilary, and she sat up gently in bed. She looked all
around and gazed back by the head of her bed. There was her fairy friend she’d
dreamed of many a night. At this moment Myrtle shouted and wind-stormed a whirlwind of
delight.
"you hear me, you see me, you’re ready to play! How long have I waited and
saved for a day (no, ‘scuse me, NIGHT) like today!"
"Come take my hand and I’ll guide you through all of my land, and more of
your land, as the night creeps on wildly. We can barter, and bargain and rustle some
feathers."
"We can dance, and we’ll sing and light big huge fires," Myrtle
attested.
"We will..." and Hilary quickly interrupted this stream....
CONCLUSION
"We will..." and Hilary quickly interrupted this stream, "Myrtle, I love
you I do, but I’ve never heard of such things. Bargain and barter… What do you
mean?" Hilary’s fear was a bit on her face, but Myrtle’s delight cancelled
her late-sleeping fate.
"For ages I’ve collected the gems of your land. I’ve captured gold coin
and trinkets, books and brassieres. With me you’ll see all the treasures I’ve
found. Some carefully left behind, some tossed to the ground."
"I want you to see all that I’ve saved for you. The one to awaken and play
with me, the one who knew that I want only to give to you more than you’ve given me.
I take teeth and I turn them to gold, so you can see!"
"Come with me now, and I’ll show you a tour of a magical place that you will
finally rule. This place was made for you and by you," Myrtle continued, "Your
teeth were the cornerstones of buildings of trees and flowers and bumblebees nests. Light
sparkles also color the scene, and glorious sounds dance through the trees. You can
have Whatever you want here- it is yours for the taking!"
Hilary sat quietly on the edge of her bed, her tiny companion practically whistling her
wishes and weaving her paintings on her warm blanket before her. Myrtle felt anxious,
something she never felt. And Hilary felt peaceful and calm. The little trixie wondered if
"maybe I’ve scared her and offered too much, maybe she doesn’t really want
to get up."
All at once Hilary stroked her covers with fondness. She remembered her friend the pet
sheep, Bah Bah Badness. "I’ve got two things to say to you tonight, my new
friend Myrtle. By the end I will know what really must happen ‘til sunup."
Myrtle sank back by the feet of her friend. Myrtle twisted and turned and felt light in
her head. "I want you to know", said Hilary clearly, "that I’ve been
there before. Didn’t you know that’s why I lay in my bed every morning? waiting
for a memory of the farm to pull me back to my school?" Hilary said.
"Every night I go visit to the land that is yours. While you tiptoe here, I go
gently there. I’ve handled the gold coins, I’ve spotted the trinkets. I’ve
seen all the riches, the beauty the lightness. I’ve felt the sweet breezes, and
walked with your friends. They didn’t know me though, as they thought I was you in
disguise…apparently a fairy can change shape in other’s eyes."
"I’ve been there and loved it, and I’ve been there and bored. I welcome
the daybreak here at Headmistresses School. Just as I welcome a new tooth and a gold coin
or two on occasion, for a sweet treat for me and my friends."
Myrtle grew still, yet a shimmer remained. She looked almost earthy, all a glitter but
real. She listened intently to this news that surprised her. Riches and trinkets were not
to hold a girls only attention. To attract her to awaken at night, "there was more to
her life," thought Myrtle. "I must listen closer"…she said with
puzzled delight.
As the others lay still in their beds, Hilary stated, "this night above others, I
welcome your waking. For tonight you came into our bedroom, and came to me shaking."
(as usual, a chuckle burbled through Myrtle as she imagined herself quiver).
"I need nothing more than what I have here hence. I know what is here and I know
what is now. I know I have trinkets and riches and glitter. I know I have Samantha and
Sandy and Margaret. I know I have Headmistress and home when I want it . I know I have
evening and cow sounds at rising. I know I have you, a whispering playmate. I need not
wake up any more than I am, to see all that is and to feel glorious gems."
"I need not have night-times as different than daybreak. But I love them and I
keep them. So I ask you to stay, exactly as you want, WHERE you want to be, either hither
or neigh."
Myrtle teared a little, a fancy new emotion, and took the hand of her friend, her
teacher, her notion. "Hilary my dear. To all close and near. I thank you more than
any. You’re the last to arise with the widest of eyes. I know now what you really
need and I grant you your fortune."
Ten minutes till daybreak and Myrtle departed. She jumped and she stomped and she flew
and she farted. Myrtle the Turtle set each alarm off, first Samantha, then Margaret then
Sandy….. As each girl got up and did her own washing, Myrtle stayed on this time,
invisible- watching.
To sing like Samantha, now she knew what that meant. To grumble like Sandy, to whine
and to vent. Myrtle decided to turtle on back to her place, knowing each girl she saw
would come someday to her place.
Down the hall Myrtle went, and took a sharp left, to Mistress’s bed, her breathing,
her head. The songs of Sammy were ringing, the clocks, they were singing: "moo moo,
cluck cluck" was the sound from the last room on the right. No body was sleeping. No
one slept there that night.
The end
©1999 by Elizabeth Mullen. All rights reserved. May be electronically transmitted
with copyright information intact for non-commercial purposes only.
