The Fairy Finders Chapters 9 and 10
This is the final installment of The Fairy Finders.
Click here to start from the beginning.
Grouch came knocking the next day.
“I have a message from Mrs Maple to convey to you.”
“Why didn’t she tell us directly?” “
Because she thought you would be too half-witted to comprehend, so she asked me to translate into child speak for you.”
“Animals will sort.”
“Is that it?”
“She had more but decided to edit it to 3 words for your comprehension. Any hot chocolate going?”
“No, we don’t,” said Isla turning on her heel with a ‘humph’.
We watched with dismay as more and more machines and men came and started their path of destruction, leaving noise and mess and commotion in their wake. We felt helpless to this onslaught and could do nothing but wait and hope that the animals would come good.
When we discovered the atrocity of a poor dead badger, upturned by an ugly orange machine with claws, we had to get word to Mrs Maple. Freddie ran to Strawberry Tree haven to let the Pipps know. That evening, the Pipps and Mrs Maple gathered around as we sadly buried the badger.
“Poor Beatrice.” Mrs Maple tutted sadly, “She was the closest match I ever had at Scrabble, and a close friend too,”
“We can’t let this continue, we have to put a stop to it and soon,” Isla said miserably.
“Leave it to me,” Mrs Maple agreed as she swooped purposefully away into the night.
Then, day by day, the most extraordinary thing started to happen, animals began to emerge in droves to our corner of the wood.
There were deer, badgers, foxes, voles, mice, owls, butterflies, herons, mountain goats with twisted prehistoric horns, natterjack toads, and birds of all kinds. They were shy at first, keeping their distance, but Freddie was quickly able to put them at ease and encourage them closer. They all burrowed and camped around our oak tree. It was a regular party with everyone sharing and kindly. The Pipps joined too, and the Potts reluctantly, even the Pimplesticks eventually came to see what was going on.
Our gang sat up on our stargazing platform regarding the scene below with utter astonishment.
We spotted Wise Old Witch Hare in the crowd who gave us a conspiratorial wink. We looked from one to another.
Fern said, “an external event that brings us all together,”
“The magic, it’s working!” Isla cried.
“But what about the Pylon people? I knew this would come to no good. The animals are all going to get hurt or killed, just like badger, and it will be all our fault.” I blurted out in dismay.
Right on cue, the Pylon People returned with more bulldozers and diggers. They stopped in their tracks at the sight of so many animals together in one place. One of them pulled out his phone, indicating the others to turn off their engines and keep back.
“Bit of a situation here, Sir, might have a bit of an err conservation issue on our hands,” he shouted into his phone.
“Don’t tell me this plan is going to be derailed by some blooming toad or ant or irrelevant species!” came blasting out the other end.
“Irrrrrrelevant species, anyone else here feel irrrrrrelevant?” croaked the natterjack toad. In response, all the animals made their loudest bleat, croak, and squeak which came out as a deafening cacophony of noise.
The luminous yellow man with the red face dropped his phone and ran away as fast as he could in fright, and the machinery started up noisily and rapidly reversed out of the wood. The phone, lying on the ground kept shouting,
“Brian! Brian! Don’t you dare conservation me!!!”
Over the coming weeks, a different group of men and women began to arrive observing all the wildlife with astonishment, taking photographs and scribbling excitedly in notebooks.
“This is extraordinary. I have never seen so much abundant wildlife in one place.”
“What is the maximum conservation order?”
“Sixty years for an area of outstanding biodiversity.
“Well, there can be no arguing that this is certainly that. We must grant the maximum conservation order.”
We watched delightedly as the machines disappeared and the luminous yellow men. The trees and poor dead badger could never be replaced, but there was hope again for our wood: hope and happiness.
We worried that with the Pylon Project defeated, the Pimplesticks and Potts would return to their wicked ways, but the successful flight against the Pylon Project seemed to leave behind a shared respect that we all had some right to enjoy the beauty of the wood.
With the help of the animals and our newfound fairy friends, and acquaintances, and a little help from some magic, we managed to save our wood. The conservation people declared it an area of outstanding natural beauty and put a 60-year conservation order on the wood.
I looked at my seven grandchildren, all looking at me with astonishment.
“Those 60 years have now passed, which is why I have called all of you here today to share some important information with you. We have managed to buy the wood and have formed a trust in your names. We are bestowing the wood to you. You need to think carefully about this as it is a serious undertaking that will carry on past your lifetimes. If you feel you are up to the task, the wood will become your responsibility.”
“Yes yes, Pop Pops,” they shouted back in eager unison.
“We will look after it, we promise. Please, please can we go and play in the woods now?”
“Yes, yes, off you go. Please look after it, enjoy it, and whatever you do do not get on the wrong side of those fairies.”
I watched them scamper off into the woods, rainbow-coloured ferrets, ready to begin their own woodland adventures.
This ends the story of The Fairy Finders. We hope you enjoyed it and feel free to comment below what you thought of it.- Total nr. of readings: 364 Copyright © The author  All Rights Reserved. This story may not be reproduced without the express written permission of the author except for personal use.
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