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and dance in a circle around the flames.
From here and there I see many drinking out of tiny flasks.
I ask Mel what it is that they’re enjoying. “That’s honey mead
like a mild, sweet wine. I like it, but now I prefer beer. Do you have any?”
I go into my tent for some beer and come back to sit beside the fire. Mel is eagerly hovering close by, when I snap the tab on the can. The spray shoots up unexpectedly and hits her. She begins to lick the beer running down her face and her arms, not wishing to waste any of that precious brew. I give her only half of the amount that she had the last time.
The dancing and singing seems to be ready to last the whole night long.
Finally, not being able to keep my eyes open, I crawl into my sleeping bag, and listen to the merriment just outside. It’s well past the wee hours of the morning, and the laughter and singing are still going strong. I even heard someone yell,” Hey Tess, stop that!”
In no time I am fast asleep. Mel is nowhere in sight.


Chapter Seven

The lessons


Exactly at daybreak, I’m awakened by the sound of a dull thud on the canvas top of my tent. This is followed by a small voice crying “Ouch!”
I go outside to see what’s going on, and I find Mel sprawled out face down on the roof of the tent.
“Where have you been? The last time I saw you, you were dancing around the fire. Then you disappeared. Did you run off with someone?” I ask her. To which she gets up with some difficulty and flies to about six inches from my face and yells, “What? How can you even say such a thing! I
I pledged myself to you, Calvin
ow
my head hurts. Remind me to not mix honey mead with beer next time,” she says while holding the sides of her head with both hands. “I need to lie down for a bit
ok?
And
to where I was last night
somehow I ended up in this tree and slept in an empty robin’s nest. Good thing that it was empty, or else a mother bird would have been my blanket. Stinking birds!”
As she enters the tent, I notice that the insects around here have resumed their chirping. Maybe they know that all the faeries are sleeping in today, and aren’t a threat.
I take my usual morning dip, after which I start breakfast. The fresh coffee aroma mixed with the scent of pine in the air makes me wish not to have to return to the dirty old city. I have about five days left to enjoy this Eden.
Near eleven Mel emerges, looking a lot better. She excuses herself and is off. The cacophony of insect sounds ceases almost immediately.
On returning, and looking satisfied, she asks, “Cal, do you wish to start on your first lesson?”
“Lesson
which one is that?” I ask.
“You know
the one where you can reduce your size to match mine. That will take some practice and time. Now
 to acquire wings
that’s another story.
“Oh
I thought that you were just kidding. Can I really do that?” ”As I told you yesterday
’If you believe, you can do almost anything you wish for’.”
The day passes without too much being accomplished, but suddenly I feel something that I never felt before in all my living days.
My very molecules are being re-aligned. I feel strangely pleasant, yet totally odd. I’m shrinking. All around me, everything which used to be normal, is getting bigger.
“You’re doing great.” Mel tells me. “Soon you will be my size. Isn’t that wonderful?”
In a just a few minutes later, which seemed a lot longer, I’m standing before my tiny pixie friend
 but this time only an inch or two taller than her.
Mel squeals with delight, as she flings herself at me, embracing and kissing my neck, running her fingers through my hair.
I, in return, feel strangely attracted to her, now that I’m her size. She looks even more gorgeous now, than when I looked at her with larger eyes.
“I’d better leave now. You will need some clothes
can’t have you running around like that. I’ll see if I can persuade Tim the Tailor to sew you up something quick. He is the laziest faerie I know.
And, you keep practicing. Tomorrow we will try to get you a set of wings.”
Off she flies, while I change back to my normal size.


Chapter Eight

Learning to fly


The next day around noonish, and wearing something that looks like it’s from a Peter Pan play, I’m back to being seven inches. I practice all morning and I have to admit that I’m getting the hang of it. Big, small, big, small. The only problem is that when I’m ready to become normal size each time, I must step out of the wee costume, as I call it, or else it gets ripped. Mel had the foresight to bring a couple of sets.
I see her coming so I quickly make myself tiny once more. She is carrying a box and puts it down, comes over and kisses me and says, “I got what you wanted. You must fill these forms out first
in triplicate. Read everything, and then sign here and here and here. Oh, and here too.” I do as she tells me. Once the paperwork is out of the way, she opens the box lid and removes a set of beautiful delicate wings.
“Turn around so that I can fit them in place, Cal. Won’t hurt a bit
don’t move.”
“Ouch, that stings.” I complain.
“You’re such a baby.”
“How do they look?”
“Beautiful, and so sexy. Now try and vibrate them.”
Well, I try and try, but not a wiggle.
“Concentrate harder. Pretend that you can feel them, and that they are part of you now. That’s better
I can see them move a bit. My, but you’re a fast learner.” She says to encourage me.
This goes on for most of the afternoon. By suppertime I’m ready to give up.
Just then I feel that I’m rising clumsily, but nevertheless rising.
Instantly I’m face down; my head on the ground and my legs flailing above me in mid air. Now I’m spinning out of control like a crazy kid’s toy. Mel is laughing so hard, I think she’s split a gut.
I finally get control and end up sitting near her. My head is still spinning and I feel like throwing up. Mel puts her arm around me and consoles me, “You did just fine. Take a rest. We can continue later or we can simply enjoy the rest of this great day doing nothing at all.”
“This is tiring,” I tell her.”I think I’ll just return back to my normal size. Will I lose my wings, or will they be back when I become small again?”
“No. Each time from now on you’ll have them. But before you change back, can I just hold you for a second or two?” She asks shyly.
After about seven or eight seconds and a couple of quick kisses, she lets me morph back to my human stature
but not before I tell her to look away as I get out of these small duds and into my own clothes. This time she behaves.
The next day, after much time and many minor bruises incurred while banging into bushes and tree branches, I finally am flying straight and upright. I am also more-or-less able to go from point A to point B without zig-zagging off course. Mel is so proud, she hugs herself.
By evening, I’m almost a pro. At least that’s what I tell myself.
“Tomorrow we will try out your swimming abilities while wearing your wings.” She tells me.
“Can’t wait. What about those two creatures in the lake?”
“No need to fear
we have intelligence 
they are dumb beasts. In fact, once you master ‘flying’ under water, we can have some fun teasing those morons. That’ll be a hoot
wouldn’t you agree?”
I don’t know what to think, so I just put it out of my mind for the meantime. We’ll just have to wait and see.
As I’m preparing to put together firewood for later, Mel asks, “Now that I’ve seen you my size, aren’t you curious to see me your size?”
My heart leaps as I recall seeing her in my dream. She looked radiant
so real and yet un-earthly.
“Well, Cal, what do you say?”
“Now? You want to do that now?” I ask, somewhat hesitantly
I’m not sure why.
“Yes, now. Why are you so nervous?”
“I don’t know.” I tell her, yet I really do know why, but my heart is holding back from telling my brain.”Ok.”
She goes into my tent, and I hear some rustling. Then she steps out, and what I see takes my breath away. Five foot four, wearing one of my jeans, which are a bit too long for her, and one of my black t-shirts, she looks like a Venus in blue jeans. Her dark black hair, and stunning green eyes look much more out of this world than in that dream I had a few days ago. With a smile on her lips, she stands there, as if daring me to make the first move. The last time I felt like this was when I asked Samantha Williams to dance with me at the school hop in grade seven. I nearly fainted then too.
With a knot in my throat, and shaky knees, I approach Mel
Melissa the Mischievous. She, sensing my nervousness, smiles and meets me half way. She wraps her slender arms around me. I feel her warmth and breathe in her earthy aroma. Her hair smells of fresh pine. My senses reel as she embraces me so tenderly. I feel her hot breath in my ear, as she stands up on her bare toes.
“Do you like what you see, Cal? Am I what you expected?” she coos.
When I finally find my voice, I tell her that if I were to become permanently blind this very instant, I would never in a million years be able to erase her lovely vision from my mind.
“Those are the sweetest words I’ve ever heard,” she says as she kisses my neck just below my ear.
She walks down to the lakeside and begins to gather more driftwood for our fire. I just stand there watching her every movement
it’s like poetry in motion.
“Hey you, aren’t you going to lend a hand, or are you going to stand there all evening with your tongue hanging out?” she laughs. “And can I invite the rest of my folks to this bonfire?” she adds.
“Oh sure, that would be great, Mel. But remember what happened to you last time? If you fall on my tent this time, you might crush me to death.”
“Not funny, Cal
besides, I’ve learned my lesson. I’m a big girl now
more ways than one.”
Soon after, the party has started. The merriment is in full swing. These little folks sure can have a good time.
Mel is sitting with me enjoying the night’s cool crisp air and the smell of wood smoke. There are all kinds of night sounds coming from every direction: night birds, frogs, even a distant drone of an airplane
but no bugs.
“I wonder what your friend back home at your place would say if he saw me?”
“Why
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