Mind Your P's and J's! ~~ A Faerie's Tale

~Once upon a time, in a land called Far Away...

There lived a boy of about thirteen years old with the name of Lance. He was a nice boy, albeit a little slow at times, and he enjoyed traveling and meeting people a great deal.

Throughout his travels, many of the people Lance met thought that he was older, for he looked to be about 30, but in reality he was only just a teenager. Lance enjoyed taking advantage of this misunderstanding quite often for it afforded him the chance to bounce back and forth between the joys of childhood and the privileges of adulthood. With each new town he visited, privileges and joys abounded--and more often than not, the privileges and joys were of a different sort with each town he encountered. This kept Lance in a constant state of happiness and good will--especially when the privileges of the town included entrance into a tavern or two.

Unfortunately, for an as yet unknown reason, with the entrance into these taverns, also came Lance's tendency to introduce himself with a variety of odd names. More often than not, he would come up with a name off the top of his head, just to give the patrons a start, but his favorite by far was, "The Keeper of the Time." This name made him appear as old and as wise as a name possible can. When he used this name he was always careful to sit at table off in a dark, damp corner for he knew he would soon be followed by many people who wished to absorb his words of wisdom which they felt sure were shortly forthcoming.
Lance found this as funny as the funniest joke in all of the world. He would sit at his table, clutch his stein tightly to his chest, and mutter the most nonsensical phrases and sentences imaginable...and the people would murmur with awe and appreciation at every word. Lance would leave the tavern hours later, mostly as a result of having had exhausted his vocabulary--but his purse was never the worse for having spent so much time consuming alcoholic beverages, for no matter which town he visited, the inhabitants thereof never felt right about such a wise man paying for his own drinks.

Lance traveled for many a year, always alone, but always quite satisfied with the way things were. Especially when he gave his name as The Keeper of the Time. Life was best just about then.
Slowly, though, very slowly, came the day that Lance realized he used this name more often than all of the others combined. And then the day that he realized he was leaving the taverns containing more and more fermented beverage. ::stumble, stumble:: He would go out the door. ::stumble, stumble:: Often it occurred to him that perhaps a wise man ought not walk so, but always he did. Until the day that he stumbled and fell into a ditch.

There he lay. Waiting for someone to help him. But no one came, for no one had seen him fall. Finally it occurred to him that he could ask his Fairy Guardian for help (for men do not have Fairy Godmothers...but only Fairy Guardians). But his drinking had addled his brain somewhat, and before he could stop himself, he had called on his Fairy Guardian in a most inappropriate way:

"Hey, Stoop Head, a little help here?" .............. ::silence:: ............... "OoOooh, Stoop Heeead?"

Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
Time elapsed.
Time elapsed.
Time elapsed.

Finally the alcohol began to wear away, and Lance had a half-way sober thought:
"I don't think that's his name...."

"No," came a feminine voice. "You are correct, sir. That is not his name."
Lance lifted his head and saw a Faerie Guardianette sitting on a fallen tree not three feet from where he was lying.
"Heeeey! How long have you been there?"
"I? Why, aren't you The Keeper of the Time?" The sarcasm in her voice seemed very unbecoming to such a beautiful creature. After seeing him cringe satisfactorily, the Faerie Guardianette raised her eyebrows and answered demurely, "About an hour, I should say."
"An hour?!" Lance was shocked beyond all shock. "Where is my Fairy Guardian??"
The Faerie sighed. "He is not coming," she answered. She rolled her sparkly eyes at his reaction. "You have exhausted the poor Guardian, and, on top of that, you have insulted him. No. He is most definitely not coming."
Lance cringed again as she said these words, not only because the truth of them stung, but also because the sparkles in her eyes turned from diamond-white to ruby-red as she spoke them. Lance was humbled--and a wee bit frightened.

"Look," he said. "I just want to stand up. That's all. Just to stand up."
The Faerie rolled her eyes again. "Then do it." Her eyes sparkled a sapphire color as she began to laugh and kick her legs in front of herself.
"I can't!" Lance was getting very frustrated with the oversized Faerie (for Fairy Guardians are much larger than regular fairies. They are about the size of human beings).
The Faerie Guardianette was getting frustrated with him right back. "You think that, O Wise Timekeeper? You think that, do you?"
She stood and straightened her fairy-silk skirt. Fairy Dust fell all around as she did this. Lance saw that this seemed to have a calming effect upon her. She stepped over to him and took his hand in hers.
"I will tell you how to overcome your problem, if you will promise to pay more attention to all of the privileges and joys given you, and not any one in particular." Lance nodded in agreement.
"And!" her eyes snapped out an emerald-green sparkle, "You must also stop referring to yourself as The Keeper of the Time. It isn't becoming in a man of your age."

With a shock, and a slight sinking feeling, Lance realized he was no longer 13 years of age--but closing in on 30. Seeing that he was too depressed to answer, the Faerie felt it would be just short of cruelty to force him to do so, so she simply stood and looked down at him.

"What now?" He asked in confusion.
"'What now'?" She answered back. A smile crossed her face. "Do you solemnly promise to faithfully keep these vows for the rest of your life?"
"Yes, yes, I solemnly promise to keep them."
She hesitated for a moment, then her Faerie laugh suddenly filled the woods. "Oh, I shan't tell you! I shan't, I shan't!"
Lance stared at her in disbelief. "But you must! You must!! You promised!"
"Oh, alright!" She stamped her foot, her eyes sparkling emerald-green once again. "But you're taking all of the fun out of it!"
The Faerie Guardianette danced around a little, and then twirled three times.
"What are you doing?" Hopeful once again, he wanted to know how it all worked.
"Nothing at all but a bit of FW," she answered in an airy tone.
"Ooooh," he breathed appreciatively.
"I've finished," she said grandly, coming to a standstill a few inches from him. "Stand," she commanded.

Lance tried with all of his might, but he could not stand. Desperation was beginning to creep into his heart. He looked up at the Faerie, struggling to keep from glaring at her. But when he looked at her, he saw her hand was clasped over her mouth in an attempt to keep her laughter from sounding. And when she met his gaze, her giggles spilled over and through her fingers. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "I suppose I forgot!"

She stepped gingerly over to his feet, and with the help of a little Fairy Magic and Skill, she caused the ropes to fall away from his ankles. She then stepped to his knees, where the same process was repeated, then on to his arms and chest. She then stood back and merrily laughed and laughed at the expression on his face.

"I thought I had a curse put upon me!" He yelled out, still in the ditch.
"I know!" She shouted with glee, clapping her hands together. "Aren't you so very glad you hadn't?? It was within your power all along!"
Feeling made a fool of, Lance suddenly bounded from the ditch and made a grab at the Faerie, but she evaded his grasp easily, for the ale had not yet completely worn off, and Lance was slow in action.

"You've promised, you've promised, you've promised!" She sang out, her voice echoing through the woods. But she stopped when she saw the sad expression on his face. "Oh, come now. It is for the best!" A quizzical look crossed her face, and lavender sparkles came from her eyes. "You do not think your Fairy Guardian would allow me to do something harsh for harness' sake, do you? It is truly for your best!"

Though Lance heard her, and understood perfectly, he could not quit reaching for the Faerie Guardianette--but she was always dancing just a couple of inches in front of him, laughing and singing all the while.

With one last twirl, she danced away from him, leaving him to reflect on the past few years of his life.

"Mind your P's and J's!" She called out just before she disappeared. She did not look back. True confusion covered his face. "What?!" He called out to her, hoping to catch her in time. She stopped--mid dance step--turned, and sent a withering glance his way, "Your Privileges and Joys!"

With that she disappeared.

And the story ends.

For now.