His Fairy Godfather

His Fairy Godfather
10 January 2014
D. Paul Angel
901 Words

Sea lion barks punctuate the wave’s melodious rhythm with their own staccato pace.  The wave’s triumphant finale vary from a hissing of foam to the dull, wet thud of slapping rocks.  The night may have been in December, but nobody told the weather.  The sky is brilliantly clear and, save for the wind, the air’s more warmer than not.

Alone on a bench at the base of the Lighthouse, he watches the lights on the far side of the Bay while awaiting the moonrise.  He looks up to Orion standing guard over the stars, the sky dark enough to make out the finer details of Orion’s sword. A shooting star rip across Orion’s torso as he watches, briefly flickering out before continuing its fiery plunge.

I’ve never seen a shooting star wink out on its path like that he thinks, simultaneously considering the physics behind the sudden disappearance as well as the artistic effect from the illusion of it vanishing inside Orion himself.  With a tiny chime almost lost to the Ocean’s roaring voice, his face lights up from the glow of his phone.

That meteor was too cool not share with- Share with… Who?

That is, after all, why he’s here; alone on a bench.  Because she had made very, very clear that she did not want to share her life with him.  Not even a little tiny bit.

His turns over thoughts of FaceBook and Twitter, but he knows in his heart they’re false panaceas of inclusion at best.  He wasn’t without friends of course, and easily half a dozen of them would enjoy the story immensely…

Before returning to their lives.

And their Loves.

With a sigh he puts the phone away to look up at the stars again when he sees a man approach.  I wasn’t that out of it, was I? he asks as he looks around to see if anyone else is approaching.  The man comes directly at him and sits on the edge of the bench, despite the seven empty ones on either side.  The man’s wearing a fashionable leather jacket and looks incredibly familiar.  The man turns and leans forward regarding him.

“You remind me of Rossi, from Criminal Minds,” he blurts out to the man before he can stop himself.

“Joe Mantegna?  Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Are you?”

“You think I’d be here talking to you if I was?” the man snorts, “No, I’m the sorry schmuck who got tasked with being your Fairy Godfather.”

He laughed with a mix of nervousness and mirth before catching his Fairy Godfather’s eye and suddenly feels his humor shrivel up.

“You think that’s funny?” asks the Fairy Godfather.

“No. I… Um. Kinda?”

“Kinda.  Kinda? Huh.”

Not sure what to think, let alone say, he does nothing and waits for his Fairy Godfather to continue.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m waiting for the moonrise.  Maybe get some good pics.”

“That phone helping you?”

“No, I was thinking of texting someone and thought better of it,” he answers truthfully before wondering why he’s saying anything to this guy at all.

“That your first choice for the evening?  Pictures of the dark and unsent texts?”

“No, I…” remembering his wish moments ago to not be so forthcoming he finishes lamely, “They’re pictures of the Moon.  Not the dark.”

The Fairy Godfather cocks his head and looks at him.

“It’s better than being home alone,” he adds as if compelled.

“True,” the Fairy Godfather said, making it linger, “But not really.”


“Shut up,” the Fairy Godfather says, pointing a finger at him.

“I-” is as far as he gets before the Fairy Godfather raises a finger silencing him.

The Fairy Godfather continues, “You could have been out here at sunset to take your pictures, with far more people around.  A lot of them women actually.  Maybe… Maybe even the one for you.”

She was here?  The One?”

“You weren’t here so you won’t ever know, will you.  You want her?  You want, ‘The One?’ Find her.  Don’t sit around and hope she’ll fall in your lap.  Don’t pretend to be a photographer when you know damn well the Moon isn’t going to rise for another 3 hours, and don’t whine you have no one to spend your life with if you don’t have a life worth sharing!”

He sits there in stunned silence as the Man, his Fairy Godfather, gets up and looking down on him says, “We’re done here.”

The words wash over him. He feels hallow inside even as a cold ball of fail burns into his stomach.  “That’s it then? No ideas on how, just, ‘do everything you’ve ever done, only different.'”

“Exactly.  You already know how, you just need to do it.”

Before he can speak his Fairy Godfather shushes him with a look.  “Just f’n do it, k?”  His Fairy Godfather pats his cheek before turning and disappearing between the Lighthouse beam’s flashes.  If not for the warmth and feel of the Fairy Godfather’s hand against his face he would have thought the whole thing a delusion. Cause tactile illusions can’t exist? he asks himself.

He stands and looks around.  Frustrated by the encounter he shouts to the Ocean, “You know in the stories, the Fairy Godmother actually helps people.”

As soon as he finishes, he hears his Fairy Godfather’s disembodied voice answer, “That’s probably why the bitch divorced me.”


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