Fairy Tales from St Paul

By Erik Hare

St Paul is a town full of magic. Since very few people believe in magic anymore, most of passes just beneath an ordinary day in what appears to be an ordinary town somewhere towards the middle of the United States.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 26, 2012
• ISBN: 9781105804991

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Fairy Tales from St Paul

Introduction

St Paul is a town full of magic.  Since very few people believe in magic anymore, most of passes just beneath an ordinary day in what appears to be an ordinary town somewhere towards the middle of the United States.

Fairy stories may seem leftovers from a different era when people had little choice but to believe.  But between the bricks of old St Paul there is mortar that holds it all together, just as there is something that fills the spaces between the lives of those of us who call the place home. 

As surely as the old brick facades need a little updating once in a while, a few new fairy tales from the old city can make all the difference.  What holds any of us together is little more than the stories we share.

All it takes are some sharp eyes, an open mind, and a loving heart.  With the magic of St Paul, nearly anything is possible.

Solstice Light

Josh McCarron was the most miserable boy in the world.  He wasn’t that way because he was hungry or lonely.  He wasn’t afraid or suffering from any kind of terrible illness.  He was miserable simply because it suited him to be that way.  And so he was.

One evening he woke up in total darkness. The sun had just been going down when he stumbled and fumbled under the covers, weary from shivering. The weight of the cold air and approaching darkness was simply too much when he surrendered to it, and it wasn’t any better now. At least, he thought, I have plans.

The clock glowed a brilliant red 8:17. The passage of time was the only thing that produced light in the room, but it had been forever since Josh had cared. But this number meant it was time to get up and make his way. The band would start soon enough.

It was the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. The owners of the Buzz, a coffee dispensing hole in the West Seventh streetscape, thought it would be fun to celebrate with some kind of gothic neo-pagan hippie kind of party. Basically, there would be bands. It was as good of an excuse as anyone needed, except possibly Josh. To him, this was his birthday. Happy 19th still not old enough to drink or whatever, he mumbled.

Josh rolled out of bed and decided not to change or even check his hair. He had a long cold walk ahead of him, and that meant it was a night for hat head. He called to his parents, I’m going out, but the lack of an answer forced him to pause. There was a note on the fridge, but Josh didn’t read it. He had his plans, whatever. His boots were pulled on as if he had already been wearing them, the coat spun over his back, and the door was opened. He was out of there.

It was snowing lightly as Josh shuffled his boots down the sidewalk. Not a sound escaped from anything. The temperature had dropped and the air had simply fallen down on the world, trapping light and sound in one white and silent landscape. The cold that pinched at Josh’s nose hurt almost as much as his numbing feet, sliding through several inches of new snow.

This sucks, Josh said aloud, but when he realized that he made the only sound on the street he stopped for a moment. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t ugly. It was simply devoid. When Josh stopped it all caught up gradually, first as a hard grip on his numbing feet and then as a shiver on his spine. Josh kept moving because that was all he knew to do and because that was all there was to do. The Buzz was several blocks away. It would be warm there. Just keep moving, keep it going, rolled over in Josh’s mind.

For a while, concentrating on making progress in a world stripped of landmarks was enough. Soon enough, however, Josh wondered why he was going at all. He thought about how much money had had with him, and realized it was only about seven bucks. That might hit the cover and maybe one Depth Charge, that was about it. Man. This freezing walk is a lot of work just to try and nurse a cold coffee all night long, he thought.

That’s when the idea hit him. There was a sound up ahead, a careful scraping sound that came from what might be a person in a green stocking hat. It was an older man, hunched over and shoveling away with a careful, halting rhythm. A guy who needed help, maybe someone who might even