Short Stories

by Martin Higareda
illustration by Corbyn S. Kern

It happened when I was traveling abroad, and I found myself in a faraway land. Never mind what it was called, I want to tell you about an extraordinary little girl who lived there. Now the place where she lived wasn’t very extraordinary; in fact it was very plain and unexciting. The people there all had ordinary lives, with ordinary jobs and ordinary schools (where they learned ordinary things), and when they fell asleep, they dreamed ordinary dreams. All of them, that is, except this little girl: night after night, year after year, she never dreamed.

Imagine that!

You could tell, of course, if you happened to meet her: her eyes were so tired, and so dark, and her pale yellow hair would droop around her face, making her look positively melancholy. She hardly ever spoke, the poor little thing, but maybe it was because everyone else spoke for her: her parents would imagine all sorts of ailments, and take her to hospitals. The doctors and nurses would say fancy exotic things, and prescribe some pills. All this made the girl even more tired, and not a little resentful. After all, she didn’t feel ill, pills indeed!

***

This whole business went on for quite some time; the little girl grew thin and weary from not dreaming, her poor parents grew more flustered, and nobody knew what to do. Well it so happened that it was Christmas Eve (I forgot to tell you they had Christmastime) and before going to bed the little girl placed a candle in the window, a beautiful white candle to light the evening by. Then she crawled into her ordinary bed, and fell fast asleep. And before long, it was midnight.

Now, if you had been walking along the road behind her house right about then you would have seen the four wee elves creeping along under her windowsill. And you would have heard them giggling if you had hid behind a tree to watch.

“Hush!” said one to the rest. “Hush now! Do you see?”

“Hello!” cried another. “I spy something in the window!”

“Hmmm!" murmured a third, peering up. “A candle! A candle in the window!”

“A what? A where?” squeaked the fourth.

“Yes indeed, a candle,” said the first, whose name was Meredith. She was dressed all in blue, to match her stare.

“Someone must be making a wish!” cried the second, who was called Mystith. She was dressed in green, just like her hair.

“Oh, how delightful,” said the third, the one named Maggie. Maggie wore scarlet, because she was fair.

“A which? A when?” complained Griffon, the last, as he began jumping up and down. He couldn’t see, because he was behind the other three. And what did he wear? Why, the same as you, I think.

“Let’s climb up then, and have a peek!” said Meredith.

“Shall we?” replied Mystith.

“It’s decided,” agreed Maggie, and they began to climb.

“Is that a candle in the window?” asked Griffon, who stood on his tiptoes and squinted very hard. And presently they all had climbed up to the little girl’s window.

Imagine that!

***

Well, they stole through the window with no trouble at all, as quiet as you please, but once inside they laughed right out loud, and danced around and about, for they thought nothing of carrying on like that in a child’s room, at midnight, on Christmas Eve.

“Why, it’s a little girl!” said Meredith, now dancing at the foot of the bed. She almost woke the little girl.

“No ordinary girl,” said Mystith, turning a cartwheel on the night table. She almost upset the drinking glass.

“It’s the little girl who can’t dream!” said Maggie, perched way up high on the ceiling fan. (They had ceiling fans in this land, too.)

“Is that a little girl?” asked Griffon, who had tangled himself up in the curtains and couldn’t get out.

“What shall we do now?” said Meredith, as she sat down to rest.

“Don’t be silly,” laughed Mystith. “What do we always do when we find a candle in the window on Christmas Eve?”

“Grant wishes!” Maggie called from above them, a little dizzy now.

“I wish somebody would help me,” Griffon complained, all wrapped up like a mummy. The other elves laughed and went to untangle their friend, and a bit later they had gathered around the candleflame to try and decide what to do.

***

“The poor creature,” sighed Meredith. “A girl who can’t dream.”

“Let us help her,” offered Mystith. “Let us grant her wish.”

“Yes, yes!” agreed Maggie. “Oh, such a Christmas she’ll have then!”

Griffon scratched his head a moment, thinking and squinting again.

“Let us conjure a gift,” said Meredith firmly, “something to soothe her.”

“To ease her sleep,” added Mystith knowingly.

“To rest her spirits,” whispered Maggie tenderly.

“Why can’t she dream?” asked Griffon abruptly, and they all hushed him.

“I have it!” Meredith cried suddenly. “Let’s give her a magic mirror!”

“What kind of mirror?” asked Mystith.

“What will it do?” asked Maggie.

“Well,” said Meredith, “we shall give her a magic mirror, so she might peek inside, and see someone else’s dreams!”

“Dream someone else’s dreams?” burst forth Mystith.

“Of course!” cried Maggie. “She could have a beautiful dream whenever she liked!” And they all laughed and clapped their hands, pleased at their excellent idea.

“But,” asked Griffon a moment later, “but, how is she to go peeking into any mirror when she’s sound asleep?” He was right, of course, and since he was right they all four fell silent again.

***

Meanwhile, the candle burned very quietly, so as not to interrupt them, they were thinking so hard. It burned and burned, and was halfway gone when Griffon opened his mouth to speak, but just then Mystith let out a happy little shriek, and they all jumped.

“I’ve got it!” she exclaimed, after they had all asked her what was the matter. “A magic pillow!”

“A magic pillow,” frowned Meredith, “what on earth for?”

“So that she could climb upon it, and sail away to the land of dreams!” observed Maggie.

“Yes, yes exactly!” cheered Mystith.

“She could fly away whenever she liked, to whatever dreams she wanted,” Meredith added, all caught up in the excitement.

And they got up to dance once again, just like the silly elves they were, until Griffon (after catching his breath from Mystith’s happy little shriek) asked, quite innocently, “But where is the land of dreams?”

And you should have seen the faces of the little elves, for none of them knew!

***

Now it was right about then that the little girl, restless and dreamless, began to toss fitfully in her bed. And all the elves let out a collective “Peep!” and dove for hiding places. Presently the girl stopped her tossing and turning, but it was a while before the elves were brave enough to come out, and the candle was very low indeed. Soon they had gathered around the flame again, and Meredith began to whisper to the others quietly.

“I can’t hear you!” pouted Griffon.

“I said,” hissed Meredith, “whatever shall we do now?”

“Hush,” said Mystith, “let us not wake the dear child.”

“Yes,” agreed Maggie, “let us let her sleep awhile.” And they all nodded to one another, as if this were an original and clever plan. A moment later they were all gazing as one at Maggie, who had just said, “Ah!”

“Well, what is it?” asked Meredith.

“I have an original and clever plan,” said she.

“How marvelous!” chirped Mystith. “Please do tell us!”

“Well, this is it,” said Maggie. “Let us cast a spell on the girl, a spell to let her sleep soundly, and restfully, and permanently, so that she might have as much time to dream as she likes.”

“Yes,” said Meredith, “a sleep spell, to sleep forever!”

“Yes,” chimed in Mystith, “quite marvelous, indeed! Why, everyone knows that the morning chases away dreams.”

“Yes,” agreed Maggie, “let her sleep until she catches some.”

“Yes, yes,” they told one another, and together they set about making all the necessary preparations. Meredith found a moonstone, and Mystith made a little cloud, and Maggie sang a melody. Griffon, however, only watched them in amazement, until he could keep quiet no longer.

“But--” he began.

“Hush,” commanded Meredith. “Let us begin.” And the gem began to shine.

“But--” he tried again.

“Hush,” repeated Mystith. “We begin the spell.” And the cloud began to flash.

“But--” he insisted.

“Hush,” instructed Maggie. “At last, the spell!” And the melody became so sweet it was almost a lullaby.

“But wait!” Griffon finally shouted, just before the spell was complete. The other elves jumped about three feet in the air (which was no small feat, for elves) and stared at Griffon when they landed.

“What?” they all said together.

Griffon threw his arms into the air, and sputtered, “But then who shall wake her, the dreamless child, after she dreams?”

And do you know what? After a moment, after Griffon’s wise words had a chance to sprout and grow, the poor elves could do nothing but stare at one another in complete silence, for they didn’t know. Four elves, silent as a midnight...but it wasn’t midnight any longer, it was almost morning! Four elves, silent as a candleflame...but the flame was almost gone, and coughed quietly to itself. Four elves, silent as a child sleeping...but the child was awake!

Perhaps it was all the carrying on when good boys and girls ought to have had their rest in decent quiet, but there she sat, upright in her tiny bed, her eyes round and as bright as the dawn. And the elves, you can imagine their surprise! One by one they let out a “Peep!” and began to scamper in their fright.

“But who are you?” asked the girl, as calm as you like.

Meredith, scrambling up and out the window, called over her shoulder, “Faeries, nothing more!” And she was gone.

Mystith, slipping across the windowsill in her great haste, cried out simply, “Phantoms, nothing more!” And she was gone.

Maggie, swinging wildly down from the curtains, croaked sheepishly, “A fever, nothing more!” And she was gone.

And that left poor Griffon, who, as scared as he was, bravely walked over to the girl and swallowed, blinking, thinking hard.

And the girl (whose name was Gretchen, if I forgot to tell you) smiled at the last little elf. And Griffon, he smiled back, for he knew what to do.

“But please, who are you?” Gretchen repeated.

“Oh, little girl, we are a dream.” And the candle went out, and the sun came in, and although she looked and looked, and rubbed her eyes, Griffon was gone.

Imagine that!

***

Well, they tell me the little girl was much better after that night, for I heard she went straightaway and told her parents everything she saw. And of course, who will believe a little girl and her visions of wee elves on Christmas Eve? Her parents, however, were very much relieved, and finally left poor Gretchen alone, with no pills and no doctors. I imagine she was relieved, as well!

But you know, it was the wish, that Christmas wish by candleflame, which let her truly dream, as much as she liked, whenever she liked, of anything at all. Only you and I know the truth, because I was there, and I saw the whole thing.

And I have told you.