The Fideal
 
Author: Wendy

Disclaimer: I don’t own Ben and the Boys. The Fideal owns herself.
AN: I have a thing with fairy and fairy type creatures and what they represent in our subconscious minds etc…and I was thinking about The Dryad the other day. So I decided to show a less positive aspect of unearthly visitations. Maybe one day I’ll do one for Adam too.
To Amy, who never gets anything dedicated to her and who worships me she says. LOL
Copyright © Wendybyrd
 

 
 
Do not go down by the water, son
Do not peer over the edge
A woman waits by the water, son
Her arms as cold as Death.
 
Someday, Little Joe thought furiously, shoving his way roughly through the thick greenery without even being aware of where he was going, someday, they are all going to have to start treating me like an adult. He knew he was ready for more work, even if everyone else didn’t and thought that they knew everything.
His family all seemed to think that he couldn’t handle anything, just because he was smaller and younger than the rest of them, especially Adam. Just thinking of his moody, bossy older brother was enough to make Joe push through a thick hedge of thorny bushes, uncaring of the stinging scratches on his hands and face.
Adam had come back from his fancy schooling a few years ago all determined to see that Joe follow in his footsteps—with his education anyway. He wouldn’t let Joe do anything else on his own, even race his horse with the two other boys around here who were close to his age. Instead he was trying to make him read his stupid books all the time, as if that would make a man out of Joe. Then when Joe tried to tell Adam that he wasn’t interested in no book learning, Adam had ignored him. And so had Pa, telling Joe that knowledge could protect you, and that he’d understand why someday.
Someday. Joe scowled heavily and let the low branches of some smaller trees tear at his jacket as he moved, almost holding him back like long, clutching fingers. He didn’t want to be held back. He wanted to charge forward and not be little, baby Joseph anymore. He wanted to be a man, like Pa and his brothers. And if that took running away to make it on his own, then that’s just what it took.
Joe set his chin stubbornly and stopped abruptly, looking around to see what direction he’d gone in and where he was now. His pony was back at the house, Hoss had been cleaning the barn when Joe had snuck away, so he’d had to leave her there. But he’d return for her soon, he promised himself, he just had to hide up in the high country for a while first.
To be honest, he wasn’t quite sure where he was, though he’d headed northwest after leaving the house. He wasn’t really up in the mountains yet, or it would have been colder. But he didn’t recognize that spot as any place he’d seen on his trips with Hoss or Pa.
It was pretty though. The tall trees around him blocked out most of the evening sunlight, but the ground was covering in pine needles that softened the sound of his footsteps and crunched under his feet. He could hear the steady buzz of some flying bugs, though he couldn’t see them, and the air was warm and fragrant.
Actually, Joe thought all of the ranch was pretty. He loved it here and he thought, if his family tried to make him leave it for some dumb school that he’d just curl up and die—or punch them all in the nose. Not that hitting them was likely to do any good, he couldn’t even reach Hoss’ nose, even on his toes. Being reminded of just how small he was made him frown again, and he walked on, no longer looking around him.
Someday, he repeated to himself, someday soon he would be an adult, and big, and then he could do everything they did and be like them and then they couldn’t boss him around anymore.
When he was a man grown, and not just some silly kid, he would boss other people around, but he would listen to them if they complained, since maybe they were right. And he’d ride a big, fine horse, and race when he wanted. He’d drink whiskey too, and even though he wasn’t at all sure that he wanted to get married like Pa had, he thought he might like to visit with girls like Adam sometimes talked about.
There weren’t any girls around here though, ‘cept for the Paiute girls, and Pa had ordered Joe to stay away from them when he’d tried to make friends with the chief’s daughter last year, when he’d been twelve and the Indians had been visiting. But Joe had just wanted to be friends. He wasn’t at all sure that girls weren’t just a waste of time anyway, though he had a fuzzy memory of Pa and his mother being together, kissing and other horrible things.
Not that Pa had listened to that either, when Joe had tried to explain. Just telling him again that he’d understand someday. Joe was really starting to hate that word. He wanted to grow now. He was sick of being the young one that no one took seriously, just because he hadn’t done anything or learned anything. Well that was all their fault for not allowing him to do anything in the first place! He’d show them.
He kept on walking, even when the spaces between the trees narrowed so much that if he’d been any bigger, he would have had to squeeze through them. Up ahead was the sound of rushing water and he was very thirsty, having left his canteen with his pony in the barn.
The sound grew louder just as the trees began to thin out again and Joe smiled as he reached a small clearing. Ahead of him was a low pond at the bottom of an arrangement of boulders. A small stream of water was pouring from several yards up, splashing over the granite on its way down, a tiny little waterfall. Seeing it made him smile wider and he stepped forward tiredly and dropped onto his knees at the water’s edge.
It was colder here, down by the water, with the sun setting somewhere above, so he buttoned his coat before peering over the little ledge, just like the long, white-blossomed flowers bent over the side as if staring at themselves.
Joe couldn’t see where the water went, but since the pond wasn’t overflowing it had to be going somewhere. And since the water wasn’t stagnant, it would be all right for him to drink it. He cupped his hands and slurped some eagerly, ignoring how the water chilled his fingers. He was used to that anyway, mountain water was always cold, since it came from melting snows.
The water was murky, as if the waterfall stirred up the dark mud at the bottom, but it hadn’t tasted bad, just cold. And it was pretty still near the edges, the ripples not making much of a dent in his reflection. Joe bent farther over the edge, over and through the tall reeds, to stare at himself.
In the dark, slightly wavy water his face looked paler and thinner, and his eyes looked huge. Joe made a face at himself for that, sticking out his tongue playfully before realizing how childish that was. He cleared his throat and tried again, frowning sternly to make himself look older, trying to imagine himself doing all the things he’d been thinking of earlier.
Something flashed under the surface of the pond and Joe jumped back, startled. He tossed his head in the next moment, and blushed, glad that his brothers weren’t here to see him get so excited over a little fish. He crept back in the next moment and narrowed his eyes, looking for the fish again. But there was only his reflection.
The waves made his face shift and change, he watched it grow longer and whiter in fascination, then lifted his mouth in a crooked grin, wanting the face below him to do the same. The face did, showing a hint of pointy white teeth before the lips went darker and returned to a straight line. Joe blinked at that, and then felt his eyes widen when the hair seemed to grow longer, a tangled dark mess like the reeds around him.
It was almost like there was a different person staring back at him, just under the surface. But that was silly.
Still… Joe shivered, probably at the cold, and then craned his neck out over the ledge, stretching his body farther. His father believed in mermaids, he’d seen them at sea he’d said, in his younger days, though he’d been winking at Adam when he’d said it. And Adam had mumbled something about being at sea for four months and not seeing a beautiful mermaid and how that would be more unbelievable and Pa had laughed. But Joe didn’t see why there couldn’t be mermaids in little ponds as well as in the ocean, if they truly existed.
Her eyes were bright, even through the water, and her mouth was turned up in a cautious smile. Joe caught his breath, wondering what to do now if she was real, since he’d never really been around girls to talk to them.
She’d looked about his age, and he thought that she must lonely too for someone to play with. There couldn’t be anyone else in that tiny pond, and there was no one around.
Realizing he was staring, Joe felt his face grow warm and ducked his head. When he dared to look back at her, she was still there, but barely on the edge of his vision, probably pressed into the muddy side of the pond.
Leaning forward until his hands were clutching fistfuls of reeds to keep him from falling in, Joe bent his head, so that she wouldn’t disappear from sight. Her eyes were peeking at him now, almost mischievously, and he leaned his head to the side, wanting to grin back.
She was pretty, he thought and blushed again at the thought, not sure where it had come from. But he just wanted to spend some time with her, even if they couldn’t talk. Her eyes said she wanted the same, and Joe smiled, leaning in even closer. His face was an inch or two away from the water now, just above hers. His eyes were level with hers, and his mouth was right over hers.
For no reason at all, Joe felt himself frowning. But he couldn’t look away from her now; she looked hurt just at the idea. Still frowning, Joe pursed his lips, and saw her doing the same. Her lips were dark, like the water, and they turned up at the corners at his stare.
Slowly, curiously, Joe lowered his head the last few inches, just touching his lips to hers as he remembered his mother and father doing. She was smiling against his mouth and she was sweet, like the water. Joe smiled too, though he’d thought that she would feel warm, just like him, and then bent down further, wondering if there was more.
Icy fingers stroked along the sides of his neck, like the flowing water lapping against his skin, and the girl’s smiled disappeared. Joe started in surprise, losing his grip on the reeds. Then her arms came up, wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him forward into the pond.
Water covered his face and Joe opened his mouth in shock at just how cold it was, like snow on his skin. The water rushed into his lungs and he choked, struggling to breathe, but it was so cold. Needles stabbed him inside with each breath, and he tried to flail his arms as he slid under the pond’s surface, wanting to swim up.
He was a good swimmer, but now his arms wouldn’t move. He couldn’t move, he realized with panic, and kicked out, trying to free himself. His thoughts were frantic. He was held down, his arms were tied to his sides with reeds and moss. They were wrapped around him like a net, like arms. She was holding him, he could feel her; she was colder than the water.
He closed his mouth at last, and watched a stream of bubbles escape his nose, flying up to the air. Joe’s eyes followed them and saw nothing, only black where the rest of the world should have been. No light made it through the swirling mud, kicked up by his struggles.
Pa! He wanted to scream and kicked out again and felt some of the long, twisted plants break away. He raised his arms, reaching for the surface, straining, but she wouldn’t let go. “Pa!” He opened his mouth this time, shouting, but the sounds were swallowed up, vanishing without a trace, just like him. It was no use fighting anymore.
It was so cold, he thought vaguely, slowly, staring up at his hands floating in the small waves with tired, aching eyes. The mud was clearing and he realized that he had stopped struggling. There was no use, and the water was growing warmer even as he thought it.
Her arms were warm now too, circling around his waist, heavy, pulling him further down into the depths. At least she wouldn’t be lonely. He nodded and closed his eyes.
Something tugged sharply on his arms and Joe frowned at the pain of being pulled in two directions. Couldn’t they make up their minds and leave him alone? “Stop!” he shouted at both of them and heard the sound echoing through the water this time.
The hold on his arms grew tighter, the tugging more insistent, so he looked up, recognizing the light behind the dark form more than the form itself. Light, he sighed, and felt the grip around his feet loosen.
He floated to the surface easily now and broke through the water with a gasp, sucking in air and choking on it at the same time.
Hands grabbed his sides, yanking him up roughly, and then shoving him face first through the reeds, onto the land. His feet were still in the water when the hands let go, but Joe just laid there, hacking up water onto the bunches of pine needles under his eyes until the hands wrapped around him again and turned him over.
Adam was staring down at him, his hair plastered to his face and his eyes large and concerned. He was breathing heavily, Joe saw, trying to imagine what Adam would look so worried about.
“Joe?” he asked loudly, the sound ricocheting in Joe’s ears like a bullet off rock. Joe tried to answer him and coughed up some warm liquid onto his chin instead. It seemed to mean something to Adam. His older brother gathered him up in his arms tightly and stroked one hand up and down his back. That hand just made Joe want to throw up more, and since though he struggled a bit, Adam wouldn’t let go, he tossed up part of the pond onto Adam’s shoulder. Adam didn’t even seem to notice, though he did let Joe lay back on the ground after that.
“Did you see her?” Joe asked weakly, trying to raise his head. Nothing was clear, but he could still see her face in front of him. He didn’t think he would ever forget, or that she would ever go away.
Adam frowned and shook his head before forcing Joe’s eyes open wider to peer into them.
“Saw who, Joe? Nobody’s here but you and me, and you’re damn lucky about me. If you hadn’t left that silly note, and then left tracks a blind man could follow…” he trailed off, his angry tone fading. Joe ignored him, trying to sit up again and letting out a small laugh when he finally did.
The pond was as still and calm as before. He couldn’t see a thing below the surface, not even where the water went.
“But she was there,” Joe argued stubbornly, shaking his head. “I saw her, in the water.”
“There was nothing in that water but death, Joe!” Adam railed at him and then gathered him close again, as if he was still a baby. Joe let him hold him this time, suddenly grateful for his annoying big brother’s warmth. But his eyes stayed on the pond. Someday he’d convince Adam that she was real. Someday he’d come back here.

The End


RETURN TO LIBRARY