"Shoulder Fairy" -- July 20

Word count: 1000

Shoulder Fairy

Sometimes, you feel like there’s no good in the world. Everyone around you is making bad decisions and will never change.

I flew low through the back streets of New York City, dodging clouds of cigarette smoke and loud voices, my wings we with drizzle. Arian had called in sick—something about getting caught in a cloud of exhaust—and asked me to cover his rounds.

So I was up early, flying in the rain. My rounds had not gone well.

My first stop was a doorman at a fancy hotel. Ten angry people in damp suits stood in front of him arguing over their reservation.

I closed my eyes and visualized his shoulder. Pop.

It was slipperier than I imagined, and I grabbed his white collar to keep from falling.

“Stay calm,” I said. “Refer them to management. Stay calm.”

I repeated it three times, willing the words to reach him. But a moment later he flung himself toward the group, shouting incoherently. I hightailed it out of there.

My entire morning followed the same pattern.

A girl on the subway platform went to work instead of dropping in on a friend in distress.

A barista deliberately misspelled a beautiful name, despite my begging.

An old man made the wrong move in checkers and lost the game two moves later.

A woman kicked her dog’s poop onto someone’s doorstep, despite my list of half a dozen perfectly good places to kick it instead.

By the time I reached Central Park, I was exhausted. I’d run through the spray from a cotton candy machine on the way in, and I was coated in sticky tendrils. My wings were damp and my muscles hurt.

Too tired to go on, I flew up and lighted on a twig, listening to street performers around the corner playing something that involved guitars and crooning. I had one more stop, but my legs and wings hurt and no one had acknowledged my work all day.

Below me, a couple passed hand in hand. They looked up at the tree at the same time. I waved at them, though they couldn’t see me.

As they paused under the tree, uncertainty rose in a wave that almost knocked me off my twig.

He was on the verge of a decision.

I took a deep breath and visualized his shoulder as clearly as I could.

Pop.

The girl leaned against the tree and laughed. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music.”

He shrugged. “I thought you’d like it,” he said.

The girl was cute—frizzy orange hair in a messy top knot and a cluster of freckles on the tip of her nose. Her smile was radiant.

The boy’s shoulder was tense and he was sweating. He had one hand in his pocket. The path was empty, music playing softly in the background. Dappled sunlight shone through the leaves.

“Do it,” I whispered into his ear. If this was the one good decision I scored today—

“Do you want to get ice cream?” the boy asked.

“No!” I shouted into his ear. “Just do it!”

He took her hand and they headed for the outskirts of Central Park. I could feel his courage slipping away moment by moment.

“Just turn around and ask her!” I shouted, trying to make my voice heard. I shook his collar as hard as I could, then ducked as his hand swept up to swat at me.

We approached an ice cream stand. The girl’s face was so close to the boy’s shoulder I could smell her breath. “I’m going to save a spot on the bench,” she said.

“What flavor?” he asked.

He ordered two double scoops of strawberry ice cream. While the ice cream girl scooped the second cone, he reached into his pocket and removed a tiny, flat box.

“Yes!” I screamed. Finally!

“Wait—”

He took a dainty ring out of the box and put it on the top scoop of ice cream.

“Don’t do that!” I shouted. “It’ll get sticky! That’s gross!”

Whether he heard or not, he didn’t stop. He slid the box back into his pocket and let out a long breath that squeaked at the end. When the attendant handed him his second cone, he fumbled with his cash and tipped her three dollars by mistake.

I held onto his collar, a sick feeling in my stomach. Maybe I shouldn’t have encouraged him to do it. What girl would accept a sticky ring like that? His day would be ruined, and then mine would.

In the ten-second walk to the bench, he must have cleared his throat ten times. Then he was standing in front of her, and I could feel his pulse in the air beside me.

“Penny,” he said, and his voice squeaked.

She looked up at him and slowly put her phone away.

He cleared his throat. “Um, Penny…”

In a quick movement, he thrust the ice cream into her hand. The ring caught the sunlight and sparkled on top.

“Penny-will-you-marry-me?”

Mesmerized, she took the cone from his hand and stared at the ring on top. Slowly, her eyes rose to his. They were brilliantly blue.

“You dork!” She flung her arms around him, laughing and pulling him close. His ice cream splattered on the ground, forgotten. Penny’s face came to rest so close to mine I could count the individual freckles on her nose. She was beaming.

“Of course!”

I lifted from his shoulder and watched as they laughed at the puddle of ice cream on the ground and held each other as if they would break if they let go. At least someone had made one good decision on my watch for the day. I turned to go home with their laughter behind me. But first, I fluttered down to take a few mouthfuls of the part of the ice cream that hadn’t touched the ground.

It would be a shame to let that go to waste.