Like a Good Neighbor

by Zoe Tamaki

Though it looked like all the other houses on the block, Fay Gadma’s home stood out. She had a candy apple green carpet-like lawn with pink and yellow tulips uniting the grass and the sidewalk, welcomingly sat outside of it. Whether it be her cheerful lawn or the perfect tulips, Fay’s house was different and had a charming aura.

   Fay had moved into the house a few years earlier. She had just retired from thirty years of service. For thirty years, she had worried herself over the well being of others.  But all good things come to an end, and no she was giving herself a break. She was 86 and tired. She slipped into her new home quietly, organizing her new work-free life. But Fay quickly realized she couldn't live the life of solitude that had tempted her into retirement. It was boring. Instead of knitting afghans like she had planned, she began befriending her neighbor with cookies, tea, and conversation.
Her new friendship with her neighbor, Brandy, blossomed when Fay was fertilizing her tulips in her front yard.
"Your tulips are beautiful," Brandy hollered while balancing one of her daughters on her hip and unbuckling another from her car seat in the back of her car.
"Thanks, dear," Fay replied as she hoisted herself up from the ground.
"It’s so very very very beautiful! The same color as my dress!" Brandy's oldest daughter exclaimed teetering on the edge of the sidewalk next to the flowerbed. She had to be no more than five. She carried a lunch box in one hand while twirling a lock of hair with the other. She looked just like her mother. Suddenly, tulip petals and soft dirt flew into the air as she fell into the flowerbed.
"Caroline!" Brandy cried, hobbling over with the two other daughters. "I’m so sorry, Fay."
"No worries, hun," Fay said, helping up the muddy Caroline. Soil pressed into her pink dress. Caroline looked down at her dress and tears became to leak out of the corners of her eyes.    

"I'm so incredibly sorry," Brandy apologized again. "We can buy you new tulips. I know they won't be the same. Oh, I'm so sorry. Caroline, say sorry."
Caroline looked up at Fay.
"Sorry," she choked as tears crept out of her eyes.
"Don't worry about it," Fay said with a wink. "Why don't you come inside? I have some snicker doodles I just baked that need to be eaten. Instead of giving me tulips, how about some mouths to crunch on some cookies?"
"Oh, we wouldn't want to intrude-"

"You'd be a guest!" Fay interrupted and walked back toward the house.
"Uh, okay! Okay, sounds great! We'll be back in a second, after Caroline changes..." Brandy yelled.
By the time Brandy and her daughters, returned Fay had set out a platter of cookies. The girls nestled themselves on the couch, munching on cookies and watching television, while Brandy and Fay sat around the kitchen table. They talked for six hours. Fay instantly recognized the type of person Brandy was. She was selfless. She did everything for everyone, and nothing for herself. The charitable nature of Fay’s old profession had exposed her to many people like Brandy. People who were kind, charismatic, and loving. People whose lives were enriched because they needed it, deserved it and they would never do it for themselves. Fay had loved being able to give with no personal consequence. But unlike those who she had helped, Fay believed after a few hours of conversation that Brandy was different because she was already living a fairy tale.
The next day they met again and talked for another six hours. From that day on, Brandy and Fay would meet daily for their tea, cookies, and talks.
But one day, Brandy canceled their lunch date.
Fay wondered why Brandy had cancelled. Even though it wasn’t her business, she secretly hoped she wasn’t going out and doing something more fun than cookies and tea.
The next day Brandy arrived wearing a wrinkled skirt and a sweatshirt.

“I was so excited to have tea again, I could barely sleep," Brandy joked when she arrived. She looked out the window. The fresh sunshine poured over her face revealing dark shadows under her eyes that were caked in makeup.
The two sat in silence for five long minutes. The sunlight spilled onto the table and into the rest of the kitchen illuminating the peachy walls and warm maple cabinets. Brandy closed her eyes, taking deep labored breaths. Fay watched silently, waiting for Brandy to speak. Suddenly, Brandy's eyes flung open and she nervously reorganized her teacup, napkin and half eaten cookie.
"The girls, they've just been staying up so late," she explained, ironing her wrinkled skirt with her fingers. Fay looked at the girls. They were lying on their bellies giggling and coloring princesses and ponies.
"They never get tired though--wish I could say the same," Brandy said watching Fay. "We should get going." She quickly stood up, making the table wobble and her tea slosh around the teacup.
"It was a pleasure as always, Fay! Girls, come on let's go home." Brandy hugged Fay and shuffled towards the door.
The next day Fay decided to make her favorite snicker doodle cookies for Brandy and her girls. Fay stood at the sink window and washed her hands. She looked outside. The sky was gray and an icy chill rattled at the windows. She turned on the heater and all of the kitchen lights. At least her kitchen could be cheerful. In her warm, peachy kitchen, Fay began to bake.
As she was pouring the sugar, it began to rain. Fay looked outside. Tears of rain streaked the windows. The sky was a dark bloated gray. The tulips were being thrashed in the wind. Cars splashed by. Suddenly, something pink caught her eye. It was a little girl in a pink dress running towards the house. Fay rushed to the door to meet her. She opened the door, letting the cold harsh wind into her home. It was Brandy's daughter, Caroline. The rain had turned her light pink dress magenta. She was sobbing.
"Fay! Fay! Mommy’s...." She said, choking out the words between sobs. Tears and rain soaked her face.
"What's wrong, dear?" Fay asked. "What happened to your mom?"
"She....she....fell." Caroline quivered, as she tried not to frown and cry harder.
Fay hoisted the crying Caroline onto her hip and ran out into the cold rain towards Brandy's house.
Fay swung open the door. Brandy was sprawled on the floor, holding her head. Fay knelt beside Brandy.

“Can you go grab the phone, Caroline?” Fay asked softly. Caroline sprinted down the hall, leaving muddy tracks behind her.

“Brandy, what happened? Are you all right?” Fay asked.

Brandy’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and stared beyond Fay who was now hovering over her.

“I’m okay,” Brandy chuckled. “I just fell, my clumsy self. Must have slipped on one of those new rugs.” She continued to stare past Fay.

“Fay,” Brandy said. “Could you turn on the lights?”

Fay looked at Brandy, then around the perfectly lit room. The lights were on.

“Oh, there was a power outage.” Fay lied, dialing the three numbers that signaled for help. The rest was a blur. Fay explained what had happened to the paramedics, rushed the kids to the neighbor’s house, jumped into the ambulance, held Brandy’s hand, explained what had happened to the doctor, tried to call Brandy’s husband, waited, answered more of the doctor’s questions, and then sat.

Fay felt an ache in her chest. She felt heavy. She took deep breaths, but each breath didn’t feel like enough. Chills tingled the surface of her skin. She looked at Brandy’s cell phone on her lap. Suddenly a tear splashed onto the screen. Slowly, one by one tears began to drip down her cheeks. It was the first time, in thirty years that she had cried. Her shoulders caved over her knees as she began sobbing.

The doctor came out of the Brandy’s hospital room. He was young and seemed fresher than the other doctors Fay had seen scrambling from room to room. He had deep set eyes that were a shocking blue. His mouth was sympathetically scrunched to one side.

“She suffered a hard blow to the back of her head,” he said, flipping through his notes nervously, “She’s epileptic and she said she wasn’t taking the medicine as of two days ago. This caused her to faint. Then she hit the back of her head on the edge of the counter. The blow caused her to experience impaired vision which we thought was temporary. However, the blow was in a location of the brain that caused severe and permanent damage. Unfortunately, there’s currently nothing we can do about her vision.”

Fay had no questions, so she sat down, shocked.

“Brandy would like to see you,” the doctor said softly.

Fay got up and apprehensively walked towards the room. The lights were off and Brandy lay in bed. She peeked inside. An IV snaked around her bed and under her neatly tucked in sheets. Brandy’s eyes were closed. Her face brow was furrowed in deep concentration. Fay took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

“Fay?” Brandy whispered.

“Hello, Brandy dear,” Fay replied.

“Fay? Is it permanent?”
Fay looked around the room nervously.

“That’s what the doctor said. But, dear, anything is possible.”

“It’s permanent.”

“Don’t worry. Everything will work out.”

Brandy’s bottom lip began to quiver and her eyebrows tilted sadly.

“I have epilepsy. I have three daughters under 10. My business is based on making things look nice. I am alone. And now I am blind.”

“You have a loving husband,” Fay reminded her.

“He left, Fay. A year ago. He left us. Just left us.” Tears leaked out from beneath her shut eyelids.

Fay’s eyes grew wide. She sat down next to Brandy. Words of comfort would do no good, so she held her hand.

“Don’t worry, Brandy. Anything is possible. Just be hopeful,” Fay whispered, hoping that if she squeezed her eyes shut tight enough it would be the truth.

Once Brandy had fallen asleep, Fay went back into the waiting room. She took out her cell phone and dialed the number to her old office, hoping it hadn’t changed.

“Hello? You have reached the Fairy Godmothers Association. This is Linda,” a cheerful voice answered.

“Hi Linda, it’s Fay.”

“Fay? Fay Gadma? How are you dear?”
“I’m okay,” Fay replied, and went on to tell the story of Brandy and her fall.

“Oh, that’s quite the problem. We don’t have anyone that could be assigned to her. And we have new criteria now for who gets fairy godmothers. It’s difficult in this economy…”

“Linda, is there anything I can do to help her?” Fay asked desperately.

“Well, for retired fairies we can’t let them use magic, Fay dear, it would show up missing in the bank and there may not enough to go around. We can do things like transferring your home ownership to hers, we can basically make anything you have turn into theirs, but really that’s it. We can make anything you have into theirs. Those are the only benefits, but no one really ever uses those. The FGA has been tough on giving away magical favors.”

“Oh, I understand. Thanks anyway, Linda,” Fay said dejectedly.

She walked towards Brandy’s room, and peeked in. Brandy was sleeping. The only sound was that of the heart monitor. She thought of Brandy’s children, their futures, and all of the life that Brandy had to live but could not see. She would never get to see her daughters graduate, get married, or have children. Fay walked back into the lobby and sat down on the cold, hard, unforgiving seat.

Fay remembered forty years earlier when her husband, only daughter, son-in-law, and beautiful granddaughter were picking her up from the salon for her birthday. She remembered hearing about a terrible tragic car crash on the television. She remembered hearing the bird chirping ring tone her granddaughter had set as the ring tone for her cell phone. She remembered the cold voice on the phone telling her that her entire family had been killed in a car crash. She remembered being helpless. For the second time in thirty years, she cried.

Fay had always been able to help those in need. With the poof of her wand, she had turned Cinderella into a princess and a ratty pumpkin into a carriage, but now she could do nothing. She felt helpless. All those years, she had thought she was doing it for them, to be helpful, to make difference, but as she wiped the eyeliner from beneath her eyes she realized she was just really doing it for herself. Her job gave her a purpose. Brandy’s purpose was to be a mother, to watch her daughters grow into beautiful young women and conquer the world.

Fay stood up. She had been at the hospital all day and the clock ticked towards the five. It was almost five A.M. She went home.

She wanted to get rest, and to sleep. But she couldn’t. Instead she chose to search through her house for things that could help Brandy, magical things or anything or items that could be given. The most useful thing she could find was a glass slipper. She looked through papers and folders and files and boxes. Nothing. She searched high and low. Nothing. We can make anything you have into theirs. Brandy looked outside. Her pink tulips were beautiful against the gray sky and bleak cement. Her candy apple green grass was bright and refreshing. Her tulips were a pretty pink. Looking out her window, she saw her reflection. She suddenly knew what she had to do. She called Linda and the Fairy Godmother’s Association to arrange everything. Then she looked out the window once more. The clouds were melting away and the sky was turning a shockingly beautiful blue.

She lay down in her bed and closed her eyes, thinking about how beautiful the sky and her tulips were. Moments later, Brandy opened her eyes and saw the most beautiful sunrise she had ever seen: a beautiful swirl of pretty pink and shocking blue.