Fair Practice

In the distance, on the crest of a rolling green hill, a herd of unicorns gambolled in a field of wildflowers. Kim observed this phenomenon in frank disbelief from where she stood on the bank of a gently burbling brook. The water sparkled in the sunlight. Bluebirds rustled and tweeted sweetly in the trees.

I must be dreaming, she thought, though it didn't feel like a dream. She hooked her thumbs in the belt-loops of her leather pants and frowned, trying to get her head together.

The last thing she remembered that in any way resembled reality was standing in the toilets at The Trap, trying to repair her wilting orange mohawk. No. That wasn't it. She had dim recall of staggering across Fulton Road to use the payphone.

Yes, it was all coming back to her now.

The last thing Kim remembered was squinting at the oncoming lights of a semi-trailer in the middle of Fulton Road outside The Trap, where she'd just seen her third Griddle-Fried Babies concert, moshed a lot, and managed to get totally smashed before being tossed out on her arse after a random ID check. She vaguely recalled having a good time up until that point.

A pair of swans sailed down the brook, stopping for a moment in the shade of a weeping willow to neck each other lovingly. Kim picked up a rock and hucked it at them.

I've gone mad, she thought. Or I'm dead, and in Hell. And Hell is a fucking Disney movie.

"Cheer up, dear," piped a cheerful voice from behind a nearby gooseberry bush.

Kim glanced about in alarm. "What?"

"Things could be worse!" From behind the bush popped a middle-aged woman in glittering pink tulle and a jewelled tiara, holding a wand tipped with an equally shiny star. "Much, much worse."

"Who the fuck are you?" Kim glowered. "And what's all this, then?"

The woman gave Kim a beatific smile. A cloud of blue butterflies flittered down from the sky, forming a halo around her head. "I'm your Fairy Godmother. And you, dear, are in Fairyland."

Kim blinked. "I'll be buggered."

"None of that here, I'm afraid." In a mist of sparkles, the woman— Kim's mind refused to register the words 'Fairy Godmother'— floated gently upward, then away across the stream. "Come, now, follow me!"

The other option, Kim supposed, was to stay put and gawp at the unicorns. They soon reached a forest clearing, in the middle of which was a table impeccably set for high tea. The woman waved Kim toward a seat, and poured two cups of aromatic liquid from a floral teapot.

Kim pointed to a tray. "Are those…?"

"Fairy cakes, yes. Would you like one?"

"No thanks. Just tell me how I ended up in…" She scowled. "This place."

"Oh, well," said her Fairy Godmother, "you were hit by a truck."

Kim blinked.

"You see," continued the Fairy Godmother, "You're not quite good enough to go Upstairs, and not really bad enough for…" her forefinger pointed down as she made a sour face. "… and so you wound up here. It's not all that bad. The tea's nice."

"So I'm dead then. I'm really dead?"

"Not yet. But close enough that we ought to have you sorted out."

Kim narrowed her eyes. "What's that mean?"

The Fairy Godmother smiled again, and a hummingbird fluttered from her hair. "If you die, you're to become a Fairy, like me."

"I'd rather go to Hell."

The Fairy Godmother's smile faltered. "You don't want to go there, pet." She stepped several paces from the table and flourished her wand. The earth shook and groaned as if it was in pain, and there was a stink of burning and rotten eggs before a large black hole appeared. "You just take a look in there, if you don't believe me."

Moments later, Kim reeled back from the lip of the hole, her face the colour of wet chalk. "Okay. I believe you." She paused to retch, and used her sleeve to wipe her mouth. "Do I have to wear that sparkly shit?"

"That depends, dear, on what sort of Fairy you choose to be. There's many different kinds, you know. Tooth Fairies, Flower Fairies, Elementals, and of course on the other end of things…" The Fairy Godmother's brows puckered in a delicate frown. "Let's just never mind those. We'll find you something nice."

Kim perked at the woman's obvious distaste. "No, go on. What were you going to say?"

"Not all Fairies sparkle, m'dear. By nature, some of us are closer to the Other Place than to the Pearly Gates. Like the Banshee and the Pooka, and of course…" the Fairy Godmother's tone dropped to a whisper. "…the Bogeyman."

"Bogeyman? That's not a Fairy."

"Oh, yes it is, dear. Terrible creatures. I'm sure you'll remember yours from when you were little."

Kim was sixteen and hadn't thought about the Bogeyman in a long time. "In the closet. He used to hide there, or under the bed. Scared the living crap out of me"

"That's the one."

It was Kim's turn to smile. "Yeah. I want to be one of those."

The Fairy Godmother gasped and shook her head, sending minute flecks of glitter flying. "No. Nono, nooo, dearie me, no, you don't want that." She took a moment to regain her composure, before adding, "And anyway, you can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's the Bogeyman, isn't it? Not the Bogeywoman."

Kim scowled. "That's sexual discrimination, that is! That's unfair practice. You show me in black and white where it says in the bloody rules that I can't be a Bogeywoman if I want to."

The Fairy Godmother looked as though she might faint. "Show you..? I... well, you see… it isn't really written down, as such and…."

Kim clapped her hands sharply, rubbing them together. "Right, then." But before she could say anything else, Fairyland shivered and started flickering, like an old television on the fritz.

"Oh my." The Fairy Godmother's lips drooped into a sympathetic pout. "I'm afraid you've just passed away, dear. From your injuries. You did go peacefully, so that's a blessing."

A moment of quiet followed that news, in which Kim pondered the things in life she'd miss. Not her Mum's monotonous, ineffective nagging. Not her half-assed friends, or her entry-level job. She was kind of disappointed that she'd never see another Griddle-Fried Babies gig or get to snog anyone again. Not much to miss, she realised. But then, hers hadn't been much of a life.

"I want to be a Bogeywoman." She said, at last, with quieter sort of determination. "I want to keep my hair as it is. And I'll be wearing black. No sparkles."

The Fairy Godmother looked as though she might cry. "Very well, then. As you wish." She waved her wand dismissively and vanished.

Kim felt Fairyland shiver again, and pitch darkness closed around her like a fist. Groping about for some point of reference, her hands met with a smooth, wooden surface which shifted a little when she pushed, and Kim suddenly found herself peering into the kind of bedroom she'd never had but always secretly yearned for: ruffled pillows, white furniture, blue-eyed dolls and cute stuffed animals. And, by the night-light's soft glow, she spied a little girl in the bed, snuggled under the covers. Kim used her forefinger to push the door open another inch.

A hinge squeaked loudly. The little girl sat upright, her eyes wide with fear. In the dark gap of the open closet door Kim was a pair of glowing eyes, a spike of orange hair and a very wide grin full of long, white fangs.

"Wh.. who's there?" squeaked the girl.

"I'll give you a clue, pet," Kim slithered out of the closet to fill the empty darkness under the bed. "It's not your Fairy fucking Godmother."