Chapter I

Isabella tossed and turned. It was after midnight now and she was tired, but the days’ events still haunted her. She didn’t know what to do, or what to think about what had happened earlier that day. Isabella was so sure about what she had seen and felt, heard, and even tasted, but it didn’t make sense, because as everyone knows, faeries don’t really exist.

Isabella began to think about the strangest day of her life, for the umpteenth time now, hoping that if she could somehow explain the days’ events that she would finally be able to sleep. The day had started like most others with Isabella waking early. It was her favorite time of day, when everyone else was still sleeping and the large house was quiet. Unlike most girls her age, Isabella wasn’t sleeping until all hours of the day, but still waking with the slightest peaking over the horizon of the earliest morning sun.

She’d quietly crept down the smoothly worn marble staircase, with her cat Linguini leading the way into the kitchen for his early morning breakfast. The old villa was at it’s most beautiful at this time of day, Isabella thought, with the light starting to whisper its way through the many large windows that lined the front of the large villa. The outer shutters, needing a healthy coat of fresh paint, still did their job helping to keep the heat out during the dense hot summers of Florence, and adding another layer of insulation against the Arno River’s damp chill that swept up into the surrounding hills during the short winter months.

On this morning though, the light took on a particularly beautiful shimmer as it made its way through the shutters and into the house. As her slippered-feet landed on the last step of the staircase she saw a sparkle of light move quickly past her in a way that didn’t fall into place with the rest of the streaming light. Linguini saw it too, leaping straight up into the air, taking a quick swipe at it, returning to the ground empty-pawed and a disappointed look on his face.

Isabella and Linguini continued down the wide hall and into the kitchen, which was set at the very back of the villa. The floor from the front entry and down the hall was made of an intricately laid rosewood and mahogany that wound their Greek-keyed way along the outer edges of the hallways and main rooms throughout the house. Isabella thought about the men that must have worked for days, even months cutting each small piece of wood and carefully placing it down next to its sister piece to create these masterful works of art that people were going to walk on for years to come. At first, it didn’t make sense to her; to work so hard to make a floor so beautiful, but she’d eventually come to realize that beauty has no boundaries as to where or in what form it will be appreciated.

As Isabella entered the kitchen, the light was even brighter now, with the large glass doors unshuttered and undraped allowing the morning sun to fill the room with its light and life-sustaining energy. Isabella took a long deep breath, slowly exhaling with a great sense of appreciation.

Isabella was tall for her age, and mostly all legs, making her taller than most of the Italian kids her age. Isabella didn’t think she was particularly pretty, but her Grandma always told her that she had beautiful eyes and when she smiled, she lit up the room! She thought she was just average looking, but her Grandma would continue in her complimentary ways and said; “Isabella, you have a special light inside of you that touches people in a way that most don’t understand. One day, I know that you will do something very special that only you can do.” Her grandmother was such a dreamer sometimes. I guess she was like a lot of grandmas, always thinking their grandchild is special and unique; maybe it’s a grandparent requirement to think this way.

Linguini was getting impatient now, meowing loudly as he rubbed against Isabella’s leg, insisting that his breakfast was next on the day’s agenda. Isabella went to the large pantry and scouted the shelves filled with the boxes of dried pasta and countless jars of the home made jams her mother was making by the dozens. Who did she think was going to eat all of this jam? There were fewer jars of her tomato sauce on the shelves, but plenty of American condiments they’d shipped over with the move. There were more bottles of ketchup than you’d see in the grocery store, and mustard, pickle relish, dill pickles, and countless other supplies her mother thought would be difficult to find in the Florentine shops. What her mother soon found out after their arrival though, was that no one in the family wanted to eat any of these sweet, syrupy, tangy condiments or packaged and over-processed foods any longer, except for the occasional weekend barbecue, when it was fun to throw some burgers on the grill.

The food of Florence was not something anyone was getting tired of yet, in fact, quite the opposite. Discovering the distinctive Florentine cuisine was a surprise to everyone in the family. The roasted chicken and pork roast from the nearby Rosticceria was the best she’d ever eaten, and the potatoes that accompanied it didn’t need a drop of ketchup to make them taste good, as the natural flavor with a little olive oil, rosemary, salt and pepper was perfetto as the Italians say, or perfect!

Even her little brother, Gianni didn’t ask for ketchup, which was a miracle in itself. It looked as though most of those bottles of condiments would go out of date before they were used up. Isabella looked out onto her new backyard. It was the largest and most beautiful back yard she’d ever seen, and it belonged to her. When they’d arrived in their new home just three months ago, she’d expected a big yard, as her parents had described to her what their new home was like, but no one could have prepared her for this! She couldn’t believe it at first. Isabella was always a girl who loved nature and being outdoors, even in Los Angeles, where there was more concrete than grass and trees. But she’d always loved nature and found a way to be close to it.

So, when she first laid eyes on her new back yard, she was speechless, which was a first for Isabella. Never one to talk too much, or bore you with too much detail, Isabella was known for speaking her mind; she said exactly what she meant and meant what she said. She eventually did speak one word after a very long gaze upon her new yard; “Wow.” That was all she could say and then she slowly walked out onto the patio and just stared at it all, for a good long while.

The pair of large arched glass doors opened wide out onto the large brick patio. A long wooden table looking to be at least a hundred years old sat to the left side, and despite their age, two long, solid and sturdy benches sat along each side of the table. Her parents had kept the old table that had been left by the family who had sold them the old villa, saying that there must be so many good memories of family celebrations, summer evenings of great food with great friends, that the table would continue to provide the same support for more of the same for their family, and so, the table stayed exactly where it sat for countless years before their arrival. Isabella didn’t really like the table at first, with its rustic worn look, but she was slowly beginning to appreciate the idea that the table held not only memories of the families’ happy times, but surely some secrets as well. Now, if only that old table could talk, she thought to herself.

On the outside edge of the patio, two very large canvas umbrellas stood to shade the intense Mediterranean sun as it began its late day descent across their back yard. To the far right, several large and colorfully painted pots held lemon and lime trees, bushes of rosemary, sage and basil. Now that spring was upon them, the many other natural and fragrant herbs filled their dinner table most every night as their mother explored her newest passion of preparing the latest Tuscan culinary delights.

The back yard expanse beyond the patio confines was bordered by what looked to be very old stonewalls. Isabella thought about the first time she saw just a little part of the old wall as they pulled into their new driveway that first day of arriving at their new home. She could see how each stone had been carefully placed; fitting together perfectly; like a five thousand-piece puzzle. One stone stacked on top of another, resting next to each other as they stood firmly together and wrapping their way around the enormous back yard, marching up along the side of the villa and down the long driveway to the outer reaches of the property.

The tall cypress trees grew alongside the wall down into the furthest reaches of the great yard. Running behind the back of the immense yard’s wall, large, gnarly-branched trees provided shade over the old wall, where mossy green lichen grew in small-pillowed patches. Isabella took a long deep breath at her lovely new back yard. It really was something special compared to what they left behind in sunny California. But what lay beyond that ancient stonewall was something else altogether. It looked more to her like a beautiful painting of a magical land. Just over the old wall the ground quickly sloped steeply down reaching an olive grove below.

The grove ran the entire length of their property to the waiting stream that wound its way from beyond the hills to the south and then disappeared from sight. Her father was most enthusiastic about this part of their new property, talking about how they would all collect the fall harvest of green olives and press them into their own virgin olive oil. Isabella and her younger brother Gianni just looked at each other in disbelief when they heard this idea. In the not too far distance stood a large grouping of very tall and woodsy trees, more like a small forest really. To the right side of the forest and beyond, lay patches of purple, which she knew must be meadows of lavender. The neighboring fields lay empty now, but Isabella knew they held within them the Summer’s promise of large sunflowers that grew as tall as six feet or more, certainly taller than most people.

In the distance beyond the fields, the Apennine Mountains stood silent, still with a bit of snow on their tops. After her first three months of living in Italy, and what had become a whole new world opening up to her, Isabella had to admit, it was better, much better than she could have ever imagined. She smiled to herself as she looked out onto her beautiful, big back yard.

“Meow, meow” Linguini’s whine pulled Isabella’s attention back to his increasing impatience with the continued delays for his breakfast. “Okay, okay, Linguini, I’ll feed you now.” Isabella said reassuringly. “Now, let’s see what do you want this morning, tuna or leftover roast chicken? Okay, tuna it is, Linguini. I don’t know why I even bother to ask you. You always want tuna!” “Come on, Linguini, let’s eat our breakfast on the patio, I think it’s warm enough to enjoy sitting outside. I just love that early morning smell here.” Isabella said to Linguini as he devoured his newly delivered tuna on a plate. “But first, let me get some juice and a brioche for me, and maybe a yogurt too.” Isabella replied while looking into one of the small narrow refrigerators they’d bought after arriving. “Okay, I’m ready, let’s go Linguini.”

Isabella opened the heavy wrought iron and glass door, which opened out onto the patio, placing her breakfast down on the old table. Facing the old wall, she sat down to enjoy the early morning and her peach yogurt. It was delicious, Isabella thought to herself. Not as sweet as the American version, and certainly much creamier, which made it much more enjoyable to eat. She always liked to save her brioche for last, savoring its scant sweetness with the slightest lemony flavor for its unmatched deliciousness to any American donut or pastry. Licking the last of the brioche’s flavor off her fingertips, Isabella got up to take her regular morning back yard foray exploring spring’s newest blooms. There seemed to be the most interesting blossoms and plants growing along the edge of the old stonewall at the farthest reaches of the yard.

Linguini had joined Isabella again now, and the two started walking towards the edge of the wall nearest to the south side of the villa. Two small lizards ran across Isabella’s path, one chasing the other, startling Isabella and catching Linguini’s attention enough to chase after them. It wasn’t long before Linguini returned with nothing more than a wiggling tail in his mouth and a confused look on his face. After countless attempts and more often than not ending up with nothing more than a tail to show for his hunting efforts, Linguini still couldn’t understand how he could grab the tail and the rest would escape. Isabella could only laugh and show her appreciation for the gift as Linguini dropped the lizard tails for her each time.

“Let’s take a walk along the wall and see if there’s anything new this morning Linguini.” Isabella expressed with hopeful anticipation. Reaching the wall, Isabella turned to walk along the south border of the yard. The ancient looking trees that stood behind the wall created a tall fortress barring any noise or peering eyes from the neighbors next door. They really weren’t so much next-door, but more like the next- block-over neighbors. Still, the old trees did their job well, creating a sanctuary of peace within the defining borders of their property.

Walking alongside the wall, Isabella peeked and prodded her way until reaching the large knotty tree in the corner of the large yard. The tree was almost as wide as it was tall, with full green leaves filling in every gap of space in between the branches, until there was not a speck of light or blue sky that could peer through the thickly leafed tree. Unusual as this was, the blossoms on it were even more unusual, producing iridescent pink blossoms, something that looked like a cross between a magnolia and a cherry blossom. Most people would just say it was a hybrid of some kind, dismissing its uniqueness in every way. But Isabella, was more than intrigued and continued to scour the library for books on trees, flowering, fruit and otherwise, but had yet to discover its true nature.

“Look Linguini, there are some new blue flowers here this morning!” The unusual blue color caught Isabella’s eye as she was completely behind the huge tree now. “They weren’t here yesterday and look how unusual they are! I’ve never seen these before, and I’ve never seen such a strange blue color on a flower either. More like a periwinkle really, I wonder what they are? I’ll have to check the book later, but I’m sure I’ve never seen them before.” Isabella exclaimed with surprise. Linguini came over and rubbed against Isabella as she crouched down near the ground to get a closer look at the unusual flowers. Linguini pointed his nose at the flowers but got no closer than an inch away when he jumped straight up in the air with surprise! A sudden spray of periwinkle iridescence squirted out from within the flower surprising both Isabella and Linguini! The waft of sweet aroma that reached both their noses was also surprising, and something Isabella also did not I recognize.

“What was that?” Isabella exclaimed to Linguini. He looked quizzically at Isabella as he sat a few feet away.

“Oooh, didn’t that smell beautiful?” Linguini just starred at Isabella, sitting a safe distance away from the unexpected squirt, still not convinced it was safe to return to Isabella’s side. “Come on Linguini, it’s okay.” Isabella coaxed. Linguini was not budging from where he stubbornly sat. Isabella took a closer look at the flowers, trying to identify where the iridescent spray could have possibly come from. As she bent down to get a good look, a sparkle of blue light flew past her nose and disappeared into the stonewall! “Now, what was THAT?” Isabella exclaimed.

She took a step closer to the wall and looked for evidence of where the blue light had gone. Isabella saw there was a small smudge of iridescent blue powder just on the edge of a stone as it creased into another stone next to it. Isabella touched the blue powdery substance and inspected it closely in the early days’ light. When she looked at it more closely, it was like she was looking at a thousand tiny stars that lay on her fingertip, all made of not just that periwinkle color, but she could see pink and purple and silvery white and even some deep ruby red! Isabella blinked hers eyes open and shut a couple times, thinking it must be the sunlight hitting the blue powder just the right way to make her see what she was seeing.

She rubbed it between her index finger and thumb to get a feel of the texture, and as she did this, tiny little sparkles swirled up from where the blue powder sat on her finger, twinkling in the air just a few inches from where they lay a moment ago, and then disappeared in a poof, like tiny little fireworks exploding in the air! That smell again! Like blueberries with a hint of tangerine at the end, fresh and clean yet with a hint of sweetness to it. The strange aroma filled the air and wafted its way up to her nose, making it tickle all the way up to her forehead. Isabella sneezed. “ Aaahhhchooo! Aaahhhchooo! Whew, that one got me Linguini! What is this strange little flower?” Isabella looked over to where Linguini had just been sitting but he had moved from his spot of safety and disappeared from the yard. Probably found a sunny spot to take his morning nap, Isabella thought to herself.

Isabella looked around the edge of the wall for more of these strange little flowers, hoping to catch another sparkle of light escaping into the wall. There were more of the flowers that reached the width of the tree, but no further. At the edge of the large tree, lay the last little blue flower, safely hidden behind the tree.

As Isabella searched for more flowers beyond the great tree, it wasn’t more than a foot more when she first noticed something was out of place. A small stone, maybe only four inches wide and about the same in height, had fallen out of its place in the wall and was lying on the ground, inches below. Strange, Isabella thought. How could this little stone fall out of its place? She knelt down to pick up the small stone and looked to see how she could carefully place it back into its rightful place. As she lowered herself to the ground, trying to get the proper view to place the stone back into place, again and for the third time this morning, something strange and unexpected caught her attention, but it happened so fast, she was sure that she was seeing things!

She could have sworn she just saw a little person run past as she was about to place the stone back into the hole in the wall! The surprise of it caught her off guard and she lost her balance and fell backward onto her butt! “What was THAT?!” Isabella said out loud with surprise! She was really perplexed now and rubbed her eyes this time. She peered back into the small hole again to make sure she wasn’t just imagining things. “There, another!” she caught her self saying out loud, even though there was no one around to hear her or respond. Another appeared suddenly, and then another! One by one, two by two, then there were three tiny little beings running past her!

It looked as though there was a small tunnel that ran through the old stonewall! Isabella blinked hard again, closing her eyes and reopening them again...to take yet another look...there! She saw one again, and then more all at once, running past her. She sat there in disbelief at what she knew she was seeing clearly with her own eyes! There were little beings of all sizes, but not one that was more than three inches tall. There were little people that looked like men, and women and even little children, all dressed in vividly colored clothing. Isabella noticed something else about the vast array of colors; that they all had a similar look and feel to them; in fact, they looked just like the colors of the flowers, blossoms and leaves of her yard.

There was something else about these strange little people that Isabella kept seeing but couldn’t quite make out as they ran past her in a flurry of excitement and uproar! Isabella said out loud, not quite realizing she was actually speaking to these little creatures. “Are those wings on your backs?”