I am going to tell you a story. It happened a long time ago, before you knew me, back when I was a very little girl. It may not seem like much to you, but when you see it through the eyes of a small child, things take on a whole new perspective. As a child, I believed many things that you may find silly, but they were very real to me. So close your eyes, take a deep breath, and try to get in touch with your inner child.
Once upon a time, I was a fairy princess. All day long I would flitter around in my beautiful sparkling gowns, dancing through the air with the aid of my oversized wings. Sometimes I would have tea parties, or grand balls, but most of the time I would have grand adventures full wonder and mystery. I would travel to far off lands, cast powerful magic spells, conquer evil villains, and still be home in time for dinner.
My very best friends in the whole kingdom were a mischievous young boy named Peter and a giant bear I called Baloo. They came with me everywhere I went. Peter was a lost boy, so he didn’t have any parents and could do whatever he wanted to. Baloo, well, he was a bear.
Sometimes Peter would leave to go play with Wendy and the other lost boys. Tinkerbell always went with him, because she didn’t like the mayonnaise jar that I kept her in. Peter would bring me presents, sea shells and feathers, and he even brought me the most beautiful tiara! He got it from the mermaids in Neverland, where he lived. He had Tinkerbell sprinkle some fairy dust on it too! That’s why I was a fairy princess instead of just a normal princess. It only took two days for my wings to grow in once I began wearing it. Unfortunately, my wings didn’t stop growing when they were the proper size for me. They kept on growing until they were way too big for me, and made me look a bit silly. They got caught in things a lot, which is to be expected when your wings are three-and-a-half sizes too big for you. Because of the size of my wings, which the Queen assured me I would one day grow into, the other fairies wouldn’t play with me. I didn’t mind though, I knew Baloo and Peter would never leave me.
On this night, only Baloo was with me. He never left like Peter did. He stayed by my side no matter what, he was my protector. He gave me strength and comfort, helped me to be brave. So brave that most of the time I wasn’t even worried about the wolves that I knew lived in my attic. I trusted and depended on him. I may have been a little bit too dependent on him, I don’t know if I could have made it through my adventures without him.
It started off as a normal night, dinner, bath, bedtime. I kissed the King and Queen goodnight as they tucked me into my bed and turned off the light. As I laid there, I began to get the feeling that something wasn’t right. I was scared, but I didn’t know why or what I was scared of. I couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation, so I held my breath and waited. I soon noticed a thumping sound. Thump, thump thump, slow and steady like a heartbeat. I deduced that it must be one of my parents walking up the stairs. As I laid there listening to the thumping, it dawned on me that they had been coming up the stairs for a really long time... too long of a time. Any normal person would have reached the top a while ago, but this person, if it was indeed a person at all, just kept on thumping step after step. It could only mean one thing: it was a bad guy.
Earlier that same day, Tink had helped me put a spell on the staircase, so that if anyone bad was on them, they turned into a downward escalator. That way, the bad guy would never be able to reach the top. I breathed a sigh of relief when I remembered the spell, but my relief was short-lived. I quickly began to doubt the spell, worrying that it wouldn’t last. I was not a very powerful magician, and if the bad guy was strong enough, he might be able to break the spell and climb the stairs. There was no question about it now, we were definitely in danger. Baloo agreed, and we put our heads together and tried to think of who could possibly be after us. We listed off the infamous villains of our nightmares, and became more and more scared with every name we whispered. Baloo wanted to go and peek around the corner and see for himself who it was, but I didn’t want to risk him being caught. If the bad guy got Baloo, he would surely get me too! The only thing we could think to do was hide.
By now, I was practically panicking. I couldn’t get to my parent’s bedroom because it was on the other side of the hallway, with the stairs coming up in between. Hiding under my bed wasn’t an option, Baloo was much too big for that. The only thing left was my closet. I came to that conclusion before Baloo did, so I took charge, grabbed him by the paw and dragged him along with me.
Luckily, I had a rather huge closet. The King and Queen put me in the master bedroom of the house, opting to sleep in the other bedroom, which had two closets instead of one. I loved my closet. It was my oasis. It was the size of any other normal closet, except that it didn’t have a back wall. Instead, it opened into a dormer that was used to store a layer of boxes containing my baby clothes. I had taken old blankets and comforters and made myself a nest on top of the boxes. I spent hours there, playing with my barbies and coloring books. I pulled Baloo into my nest and cozied up against him as a wave of comfort and relief washed over me. But before I could even finish exhaling the breath that I had been holding in, I remembered the other door.
The other door. The attic door. The only way to get in and out of the attic of our house. The attic where the wolves lived. I would hear them walking around above me at night. I would lay awake listening to the floorboards of the attic creak under the enormous weight of their paws. In our panic of the unknown bad guy on the stairs, Baloo and I had completely forgotten about them. As we sat there in the dark I became incredibly aware of them. I could feel them panting, thick, hot puffs of air that came whistling through the crack under the door. They must have heard the commotion, and come down to investigate. Now we were really in trouble. No matter which way we turned, impending doom.
My panic quickly transformed into a state of near-hysteria. We absolutely, without a doubt, had to get out of here. The only place we would be safe was lying in between the King and the Queen, warm and comfortable in their bed. But how would we get there? There were three ways out of the closet. There was the attic door, which obviously out of the question, the window, and the door to my bedroom. The window opened directly onto the roof of our two story Cape Cod house. I considered trying to crawl across the roof and climb into my parent’s window, but that idea was quickly ruled out as too dangerous. The only way out was back through my bedroom. As terrified as I was, I was determined that Baloo and I would make it to safety. He must have seen the determination on my face, and his face mirrored my own when our eyes met. With a silent nod, we got up and started moving towards the door.
My hands were sweaty and shaking as I reached for the glass doorknob. As slowly as I possibly could I turned it, trying to be absolutely silent, and cracked the door just an inch to peek out and survey the room, looking for any signs of danger. Everything was quiet and still, but I couldn’t see very well in the dark. There was no point trying to turn the light on, the light switch was right by the door to the hallway, and it would completely blow the little bit of cover we had. I got down on my hands and knees, and Baloo got down on all four of his paws (he preferred to walk upright, but we were trying to stay hidden). I inched the door open a little bit more, and crept out of the closet. I stuck my head out to peer around the corner of my dresser, and turned to Baloo. “The coast is clear. We have to make a run for it,” I whispered to him. He responded with a solemn nod of understanding, and together we counted to three. On three, I grabbed him by the paw and we stood up and made a mad dash for the other end of the dresser, the one beside the door.
“Phew, we made it,” Baloo sighed. “Shhhhh....” I warned Baloo, putting my index finger over my mouth signaling him to be quiet. We waited, holding our breath, listening for the thumping of the footsteps. But we couldn’t hear anything. Had the bad guy stopped? Had he given up and gone away? Or was it a trap? There was no way of knowing. It was a risk, but we had to take the chance. It was now or never.
Our biggest challenge now was the lava. As I’m sure you know, all of the floor that was not covered in carpet was hot lava that would burn us to a crisp if we touched it. The hallway carpet was long, an island of green that would serve as our runway. We would have to jump from my room onto the carpet, and dart across it, gaining enough speed to clear the other side and land in my parent’s bedroom. If we were able to get our momentum going well enough, I could fly us the rest of the way. I would use my oversized wings to save us. The very same wings that I resented for growing too large were now my greatest asset. I took a step back and allowed them to spread to their full glorious span, and practiced flapping them back and forth a few times. Once I was sure that I knew what I was doing, I turned to Baloo.
Then it occurred to me, Baloo didn’t have wings. I couldn’t leave him here, but I had no idea how to carry him. You see, Baloo was a very big bear, and I was not a very big fairy. I knew I had to shrink him. I reached for my magic wand, the spell ready to spill from my lips, but the wand wasn’t there! I had forgotten it in my bed. I berated myself sternly, and was so frustrated that my fear turned to anger, and my anger became my motivation. In a feat worthy of James Bond himself, I did a summersault over to my bed, and shimmied underneath it. After checking to make sure the coast was still clear, I reached around the other side and felt around until I felt the handle of my wand, still sticky with jelly from lunch. I wiped it off on the carpet, and grasped it between my teeth. With my hands free, I was able to crawl back over to where Baloo was waiting for me, and use my wand to shrink him down until he could easily fit into my pocket.
Gently, I scooped him up and gave him a kiss on the tip of his snout, promising him that I would be careful. Three steps back, two giant leaps forward, and I launched myself from my carpet to the hallway carpet. I stumbled to a stop and barely managed to avoid touching the lava. There was no time to relax, I was only halfway there. And the second leap was further than the first. I wasn’t sure I could do it. Instinctively I reached my hand into my pocket, searching for reassurance which I found in the form of a warm lick from Baloo. He believed in me, he was counting on me. I could do this. I had to do this.
I stretched my wings out once more and ran with as much speed as I could muster down the hallway. This was it. The moment of truth. I closed my eyes and took a leap of faith. Everything moved in slow motion as I glided through the air, flapping my wings with all my might. As it turned out, I had underestimated my strength, and I made it to the other carpet easily, with at least a foot to spare. I let out a triumphant shout, cheering proudly over my accomplished feat. This, in turn, startled the Queen awake, and she jumped out of the bed, tripping over me in her hurry to investigate the origin of the noise. When she caught herself, she immediately took me into her arms, grateful that everything was okay.
I wrapped my arms around her neck as she carried me downstairs into the kitchen for some warm milk. As I sat in her lap drinking it, I told her all about the bad guy on the stairs, hiding in the closet, and my journey to the safety of her arms. Meanwhile, Baloo was nestled in my pocket sleeping, worn out from our epic adventure. I didn’t blame him, I was worn out too. I let out a long yawn, and laid my head down on my mom’s shoulder. With a soft smile, she kissed me on the forehead and carried me up to bed with her. I snuggled up beside her. I was warm, I was comfortable, and I was safe; nothing bad or evil or scary could get to me now. With that knowledge I sank into a deep, dreamless, rejuvenating sleep.
I had several more adventures similar to that before I grew too big and my parents wouldn’t let me crawl in bed with them anymore. I still got scared, but I tried to be a big girl, and remembered that Baloo was always close by, standing guard. Whenever the wind howled ferociously or a thunderstorm slammed against our house, I would reach out to him, and hold his paw until I fell asleep. As the years went on, I grew braver and braver, the wolves bothered me less and less, and I learned only to fear things that were truly scary. Until one day, we moved out of the house, into a one story ranch house without stairs or wolves in the attic. My nights passed by peacefully, and I called on Baloo less and less, until one day, it was time for him to leave. He told me that there were other children out there who needed him, but that he would come back and visit. True to his word he checked in every once in a while, whenever I needed him. We grew together and we grew apart, and in the end everyone lived happy ever after, of course.
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