Chasing Fairies

Chapter 2

Jet lag was an understatement. The flight to Glasgow was exasperating. It was dark outside; the sun starting to tip upon the horizon as it greeted the airport terminal. It took me an hour to get my bags and another hour to get Doubloon from customs.

I knew there had to be bags under my eyes. I must look like a zombie. My skin was probably grey and who knew? There may be a chunk out of my chin from the way I was being stared at.

Then again, my hair was in a sumo bun on top of my head. I was sure walking around in your pajamas was frowned upon in any part of the world.

I was too tired and emotionally exhausted to be excited that I was, for the first time, in Scotland. I had always thought uncle would be next to me, but now staring at my side. It was emptiness.

I could almost see him, his shadow, smiling beside me and inhaling. The emotions were messing with me. I reached out to swipe at the air and the mirage of my imagination wavered and floated away.

Nothing.

Doubloon let out a whimper in his crate. I had both him and my two bags of luggage on a pulley cart. I pulled my coat tightly around me. It was mid-spring and still so cold. I shivered and tried to let the cool mist of morning fill my lungs to wake me up. But I needed something more than that. I needed the sweet nectar of life. I needed coffee.

I opened the packet I had grabbed. I needed the train station for the last leg of the trip to Gargunnock, which was a two-hour trek by train. The closest station seemed to be on Paisley Gilmore Street, which was a short leap by taxi.

I was so ready to sleep for days.

***

I worried about Doubloon the whole time. Yet, the taxi from the train station to my uncle's cottage was short according to the driver. The jostling of the taxi had me smacking my head against the glass pane. Rubbing it roughly, I heard the driver cackle, and I scowled. The clouds outside swirled in angry wrath, ready to spill their agony upon the hills. The road lined with old fence posts, moss and vines growing up the ancient pieces.

I felt like I was in a place where hobbits and dwarfs would poke their heads from the shadows any minute.

"Have seen no one in this place." The driver told as he turned the car down an old dirt driveway.

The cottage was on the outskirts of town behind a cluster of trees and woods. "It was my Uncle's. He passed away almost three weeks ago."

The drivers' eyes shot up to the rearview mirror, older grey eyes watched me. "Oh, sorry lass."

I gave a sleepy smile but no response. The thin row of trees on either side broke into a small, lush field where a cottage sat on the edge. Large hills swelling up behind it.

Once the taxi came to a stop, I opened the door. The man rounded the car to open the trunk and took out the two luggage bags. Too tired to lift the large kennel awkwardly in the back seat. I opened the cage door to allow Doubloon out of the cramped space.

He shot across the stone driveway into the field.

"Thank you." I dug in my pocket for some cash, but the old taxi driver gave me a pat on my shoulder.

"It's okay, you look like your tired off your arse. I'm sorry about your Uncle." He whispered. Squeezing my shoulder once more before getting into the taxi and driving away. I watched as the dust from the length of the driveway. Eventually engulfed by the line of trees that hid the cottage from the main road.

Did I look that bad? I must, to achieve a free fare from the taxi driver. I rubbed my sore neck, finally taking a moment to look at the cottage behind me.