Maybelle and the Forbidden Brook

By Alexandriana Davis

Deep within a valley of tangled forests and winding rivers, a small village of fairies resides.  They are a bustling species known for their dedication to caring for the living beings around them.  Difficult to find, they are tiny creatures; they help birds build nests, maintain the growth of trees, sit next to the strawberry plants and talk to them to help them grow. The fairies gather berries and nuts for food and host farmers’ markets to distribute their harvests.  It does not seem possible to hear them, but for the wind against their wings and the twinkle that rings briefly, faintly. Inside morels and maitake mushrooms, little wings can be spotted fluttering about from time to time.  Their cutlery is made of dead bark, their blankets of dried flower petals.  When the door is closed, no one could possibly tell that the mushroom is a fairy’s home.

Our story begins on a warm, sunny day, when the winds fly playfully and the grass tickles the feet.  A young fairy, known by the name of Maybelle, has just woken up to her soultie chirping nearby.  She stretches her arms and lets out a yawn.  Today, she thinks to herself, today is finally my day to find the forbidden brook.

Maybelle moves out from under the rose petal and begins getting ready for the day.  After a sip of cherry juice and a slice of peach, she opens the door of her mushroom home and flies out into the world.

Demitri, a blue jay with a hunger for adventure and a sassy attitude, perches on a branch just outside.  He is about to finish a worm when Maybelle approaches him.

“You know what today is?” she asks Demitri.  He rolls his eyes and nods.

Maybelle and Demitri met when Demitri was just a baby. Maybelle’s primary task as a fairy is to take care of the blue jays and make sure they have proper nutrition, and on one of her rounds around the forest, she found Demitri lying on the ground with a broken leg. She cared for him until he was healed. From then on, he has stuck by her side, even for wild adventures like these.

Without missing a beat, Maybelle and Demitri exchange their secret handshake.  They then lift up into the air and start making their way toward the north end of the forest.

The trees around Maybelle and Demitri whisk by, the sun glaring down at them knowingly. Squirrels scurry up and down trees and wave as they pass.  On a day like today, when everyone is sleeping in late and all of her tasks have been completed the day before, Maybelle is free to roam the forest at her leisure, so long as she doesn’t go near the brook.

Her village has been afraid of the brook on the north end of the forest ever since she can remember.  Her father was the first to forbid her from reaching the brook, and Maybelle has never understood why.  She has grappled with her curiosity ever since, going back and forth between whether to obey her father or follow her thrill for adventure.  Now that she has finally escaped all of her obligations and has a free day for the first time in weeks, her longing to visit the brook and see why it is forbidden has gotten the best of her.

Demitri and Maybelle fly around for what feels like hours.  The trees have become unfamiliar; the squirrels no longer wave, but glare. Shadows move below them, making shivers run down Maybelle’s spine.

Finally, Maybelle and Demitri come across a narrow, windy path.  Footprints stick out within; they are footprints of a being that neither Maybelle nor Demitri recognizes.  

“Maybe we should turn back,” Demitri hesitantly whispers.

Maybelle shakes her head, determined.  She glides down to the path floor and follows it.

The path is rocky and dusty. If it had rained the night before, it would have surely made a significant mud puddle. Demitri flinches at each sudden noise, feeling uneasy.  He can tell something is off about this. Maybelle keeps her eyes ahead of her, not daring to take her sights off the path.

As Maybelle and Demitri reach the top of a hill, something catches their eye.  In the distance, a journal lies open on the ground.  Each page is about three times the size of Maybelle.

Maybelle rushes forward and rests her feet on the paper.  Words appear on the pages in a language she does not understand.  She crouches down next to the words, trying to make sense of the scribbles.

Behind her, Demitri lets out a frantic chirp. Their warning signal. Before Maybelle has the chance to turn around, a glass jar surrounds her.

Humongous eyes peer into the glass.  Maybelle backs away to the far end of her new cage, a wave of fear washing over her.

Maybelle’s father’s words echo in her head, a warning resounding far too late.  The eyes that lie behind the jar are replaced by a mouth, and she watches it as it moves slowly before her.

“Hello, little one.”