Dont call me a fairy. e dont like to be called fairies anymore. Once upon a time, fairy ly acceptable catcy of creatures, but no aken on too many associatioymologically speaking, a fairy is somete particular, related in kind to ter nympself es from tin Fata, te. thly realms.

        t in ts t carminibus coelo possunt deducere lunam, and t times into six kinds: fiery, aerial, terrestrial, ery, subterranean, and tes of fire, er, and air, I kno to not terrestrial and underground devils I knooo e variety and attendant myt tom, and culture. Kno names—Lares, genii, fauns, satyrs, foliots, Robin Goodfello remain live ered by    give me a name, call me hobgob-lin.

        Or better yet, I am a c describes s oeo do. e kidnap a    any birl    only ttuo troubles of t carefully, for suities mig of our soci-ety migo    a tury before urn ihe human world.

        Preparation is tedious, involving close surveillance of t be done unobserved, of course, and its best to select t bees more pli-cated by to memorize and process a great deal of information beyond timate family, and being able to mimic y and ory as clearly as mirr ures. Infants are t, but g for t. Anyone muco ter    is to deceive ts into t tually t people imagine.

        No, ty lies not in assuming a cory but in t of tself. First, start retcil one so t size and body sor. t tilage, as if t affy, aedious re-ire process occurs    a gram of painkiller, alted masy uaking, but , alt ted rearra of tals. In t copy of a cy years ago, in 1949, I was a geling who became a human again.

        I cside of town.

        On a late summers afternoon,    tree. Our sformed myself into    facsimile. e grabbed o to scy fou nig angry, as I ed. "; a red- said to me as I preteo sleep in t smile. t and carried me out of to a paved road, ood ing, its red ligbeat. took me o s, to my ne nig t if t first test could be passed, the world would once again be mine.

        It is a only , among ts, tra into t. t so. In fact, ts eggs in ots, ae its extraordinary size and voracious appetite, ternal care, often to t of driving ty imes tarves    de-mands. My first task o create tion t I unately, olerant of intruders in t.

        t t in te. After all, tent. As truck lurco ted against t red door, a vivid mess of aasercress, and tons of a number of small is. tted me on t and all, as if I ten or an abandoned baby.    from to gatrong embrad warm kisses reeking of smoke and alcoo fool.

        rayed ion: blotcy tears, ted and dis for me rembling ted a small s makes sleeve and    deep coloratura.

        "; So my s arms lengt;Let me look at you. Is it really you?"

        "Im sorry, Mom."

        S .    beat against t    and un-fortable.

        "You    tle treasure. Youre s all t matters. Youve e bae."

        Dad cupped t tableau mig t, crumbs spilling to the floor.

        "Im sorry I stole t, Mom."

        So t point if I ion-ing t did trick. olen one from table ole and pock-eted it. t I was hers.

        ell after midnig me to bed, and suc may be test iion of mankind. In any case, it tops sleeping in a    skin for your pillos and sigretc like a stick be-ts and pondered my good fortune. Many tales exist of failed cive families. One cia fisened s t torm and er found frozen and bobbing in ts , te o eacs, upon learning t turn o cata-tonia,    attacks, or sudde, t ture t, abando, murder. Seventy years ago, I lost a good friend after    to make s tied ed kitten in a gunnysad t of time, ts are founded by ter, or one spouse blames tu is a risky endeavor and not for ted.

        t I ected caused me no small satisfa, but I    pletely at ease. A er I o bed, to my room s t, Mr. and Mrs. Day stuck t my eyes to mere slits and preteo be sleeping. Softly, but persistently, serity as Rut;e o mend our ;

        "I kno; ;Look at    sleep t knits up t;

        t me in tours of my ne. side, tars sop of ts, and mot treat from ted enoug into to reveal ttern on torn from magazines and neacked along tt and ball rested on top of tand a pitce as p stack of books lay propped against tain my excitement at t of reading .

        t t my nes room, follo t s of reason and speec;Youre not ; t I o t tots, eetences, and could not articulate teries of t attentiveness. I tried smiling, but no smiles urned. I tried making funny faces, tig t d    tc as toads. Rag my brain to find a o get to tered somet as s motened animal let out suc I ed to be surrounded by every bear in tains. Despite my poo be do could . By -ing to t, I soot, and remembering ters. ted by t oo coo and clap trings of drool ran do;t; and "Bye, Baby Bunting" reassured or -vi I o t s flitted terpoint, I alk to to believe—or abandon their sense of disbelief.

        Mrs. Day bustled into tra-la-la-ing. ude amazed me; I imes before, but not quite at sucers. From ty of t    in person, senderness, tly sour, a perfume of milk a. Sains, dazzling tened by s of t oo. It o keep from bursting into joyous laug me as if I were her only son.

        "ers, would you, ;

        I picked up t girl and announced very pointedly to my ne;Ill take Elizabet; S is a curious feel-ing to    one is not planning to steal; t softness.

        topped and stared at me, and for a beat, sain. " o tell t."

        "ts easy, Mom. Elizabet;

        "Arent you t; Sairs.

        Elizabet my scable groaned —cakes and ba, a jug of cer a long life iing ic delicacies, riche promise of fullness.

        "Look, es."

        I could    on t. If saking trouble to fix e foods, s remely gratified by ucked in and enjoyed breakfast. After four -cakes, eigrips of ba, and all but tcoast from abolism    seemed. Rutite as a sign of love for    eleven years, until I left for college, sime, sed ies and began to eat like me. Decades as a cites and energies, but soo en wondered if sborn or wh food.

        t first day s me ier all t uck closer tudying ily, learnier o be ed and s, , but strange and alien. Small surprises lurked. Dayligained    its patterns across ts in airely differery ticular i    t make trast to t outside, t , especially on tired sly after lun my ernoon.

        My motiptoed from to fiiently ing in t s me, standing like a sentinel in tcrical outlet t screamed out to me to sti my little finger. Alt trained myself not to listen. Mom took me by t grasp filled me ed a deep peace oud and asked ory.

        e    to my room and clambered into bed toget tury, adults otal strangers, and life among torted my perspective. More tout to be real, especially uation seemed fragile and capricious. If s ed a bunker against ter    me against all my foes. As t, so me from t;tory of t Forto Learn    Fear as," "t; "el," "t; "t ; and many otes ;derella" and "Little Red Riding ; wiful expression in imbre, a singsong mucoo ced by he decades dissolved.

        I ales before, long ago, but in German, from my real motoo, ime), o Astel and Rotk?ppced tet, t I ting, but could e clearly her voi my head.

        "Es iefen, tiefen ald."

        Alt ty of true identity from ter tras of t year, do I o tell tory. too long delayed, o my own son. e ge. I have ged.
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