Fairy Debt by Cindy Hossain
She was little in posture and age, but her presence never went unnoticed. Where she went, accidents followed. My sister was the queen of clumsiness. She had the talent to trip over boulders, constructed of nothingness, and her fingers behaved as if they were slathered in butter. We had quite the collection of odd cups and plates, not because we indulged in the eccentric, but because of mum’s wallet having the inability to keep up with my sister’s talent.
We spent our school holidays accompanying mum to work. As a single mother, her wages had to prioritise food-money over childcare. On the days when creating crayon drawings were less time-consuming than mum had hoped, she would allow us to explore the art store located on the ground floor. My sister and I would saunter between the aisles, mesmerized by the craft items we knew mum could not afford.
“Look how cute these are,” I said, lifting the cardboard packaging that contained small porcelain fairies towards my sister to inspect.
“Oh, I want that!” she squealed, clapping her hands excitedly as her eyes devoured every detail on the sculptures.
We persuaded mum to come and look at the fairies during her lunch break. We knew that an inspection was unlikely to result in a purchase, but our childhood optimism was still roaring. That afternoon the air in the art store was clouded by an unusual smell of solvents.
“The floors, it’s the floors!” my sister said, in a squeaky voice as she pinched her nose.
”It’s not the floors, it smells like wet paint,” I said rolling my eyes at her.
“They painted the floors,” she said, pointing to the green-stained concrete floor.
“Stupid, it was the same colour this morning,”
With true childlike logic, to prove her conviction, my sister got on all fours and pushed her nose against the floor before inhaling deeply.
“I told you it’s the floors!” she shouted gleefully.
In her excitement, she jumped up from the floor and bumped her head against the shelf containing the porcelain fairies. The fairies flew their final flight, and lay de-winged and dismembered on the floor. As mum had no means to pay for the damage caused by the unfortunate accident, she had to spend many following Saturdays in the art store working off the fairy debt.
“This is based on a childhood memory of growing up with a very clumsy, but lovely, sister. I “trashed” this piece, because I thought it might not have enough significance to be interesting to outsiders. Nonetheless, I enjoyed writing and capturing the moment, which we still laugh and talk about in our family many decades later.”
Cindy Hossain was raised in South Africa. She emigrated to the United Kingdom, where she now looks after her young family whilst doing a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing.