Faery Tale

Table of Contents

 

 

 

“I really didn't want to be entranced. I didn't want to be enticed into yet another world of strange fantasy beings. But with Signe Pike's
Faery Tale
—I was. Honestly. Thank you, Signe, for making us all more aware of the hidden dimensions of our earthly existence—for ‘helping people believe in magic again'—and for showing us how such spirit-world magic can transform the perceptions of our own lives.”

—David Yeadon, author of
At the Edge of Ireland

“A beautiful book, wide open and shimmering, full of enchantment, pain, and sweetness. And Signe Pike is warm, open, funny, thoughtful, vulnerable, wise—reading her is like sitting over tea or around a fire with your best girlfriend, listening to her wildest tales.”

—Carolyn Turgeon, author of
Godmother

“There's passion, excitement, and playfulness in Signe Pike's adventures as she plays with time and space and people . . . and words. If you allow yourself to hear what she hears and see what she sees, some of that magic will seep into your today.”

—Rita Golden Gelman, author of
Tales of a Female Nomad
and
Female Nomad and Friends

“
Faery Tale
is more than just a refreshing romp among waterfalls, searching for that shining, hidden race of spirit people. It's Signe Pike's answer to a grief-sick heart. Whether you use the words
faith
or
faeries
,
God
or
magic
, Pike's thirst for belief is both moving and inspiring. She has a wild willingness to reach through her grief and abandon herself to life's adventures, and I felt so lucky to be along on her journey.”

—Jeanine Cummins, bestselling author of
A Rip in Heaven
and
The Outside Boy

“Anyone who's ever seen something curious out of the corner of their eye, heard the million whispers of trees, or checked under their bed looking for more than dust bunnies will thrill to Signe Pike's
Faery Tale
.”

—Cathy Alter, author of
Up for Renewal

“Youthful and sparkling with lots of pizzazz sums up Signe Pike's book
Faery Tale
. For questers of faeries and just plain magic in the world, you will have a most enjoyable read.”

—Tanis Helliwell, author of
Pilgrimage with the Leprechauns
and
Summer with the Leprechauns

“Magical and beguiling, tender and heartbreaking,
Faery Tale
is the work of a fiercely talented new writer.”

—Michael Taeckens, author of
Love Is a Four-Letter Word

“Sweet, unsettling, and wise,
Faery Tale
tells the enchanting story of one woman's quest to make peace with the unseen. Signe Pike is searching for faeries, of course, but along the way she comes to terms with the ghost of her father, the steadfastness of her patient, adoring husband, and her own enormous heart.
Faery Tale
is a book for anyone who yearns to understand the invisible, by which I mean everything that turns out to be right in front of our noses.”

—Jennifer Finney Boylan, author of
She's Not There
and
Falcon Quinn and the Black Mirror

“Finding happiness is an adventure that everyone should take, and
Faery Tale
inspires you to go on that journey.”

—Lucy Danziger, editor in chief of
Self
and author of
New York Times
bestseller
The Nine Rooms of Happiness

“Do fairies exist? There is a certain innocence in the belief that they do, and a certain magic in that innocence. With considerable humor and flair, Signe Pike asks us to return to the awe and innocence we knew as children. It's a worthwhile journey.”

—Sharman Apt Russell, author of
Standing in the Light

“Faery Tale
is enchanting. I don't believe in tiny magical creatures, but I do believe in a good story, and Signe Pike has given us one of those.”

—A. J. Jacobs,
New York Times
bestselling author of
The Year of Living Biblically

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While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2010 by Signe Pike

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

PERIGEE is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. The “P” design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

 

Pike, Signe.

p. cm.

“A Perigee book.”

Includes bibliographical references.

eISBN : 978-1-101-44492-4

1. Fairies. 2. Pike, Signe—Travel. I. Title.

BF1552.P55 2010

133.1'4—dc22 2010023602

 

 

 

This book describes the real experiences of real people. The author has disguised the identities of some, and in some instances created composite characters, but none of these changes has affected the truthfulness and accuracy of her story. Penguin is committed to publishing works of quality and integrity. In that spirit, we are proud to offer this book to our readers; however, the story, the experiences, and the words are the author's alone.

 

Most Perigee books are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotions, premiums, fund-raising, or educational use. Special books, or book excerpts, can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write: Special Markets, Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

All experiences in this book are factual. In some cases, names have been changed to protect those who wished to obscure their identity, at their request. As with any memoir, dialogue and conversations have been re-created where required—if only I had known to carry a tape recorder on me at all times at age eight, my job would have been so much easier!—with the essence and authenticity being of paramount importance. In some places, time has been condensed in the interests of narrative length and pacing.

Throughout the ages there have been a variety of spellings for the word
faery
. For the sake of consistency, I've chosen to use the spelling seen in Edmund Spenser's sixteenth-century work
The Faerie Queene
. However, in this book,
faery
represents the singular use, while
faeries
refers to the collective or plural.

If you find yourself yearning to embark on your own adventure on the very same faery trail, and I truly hope you do, I'd only ask a few things.

Please tread lightly and with respect. Leave each place better, in some way, than when you came, and most important, be prepared to see everything—not just the faeries—with a grateful and open heart.

Your Fellow Adventurer,

 

Signe L. Pike

When my father is gone I will remember his voice
deep and charged with music
like falling water
my ear to his chest
each word a smoky pearl
his thick weathered fingers
would trace his progress across each page . . .

I
WAKE up every morning with a sense of purpose: I am a tastemaker. As a book editor in New York City, I think about it constantly: What do people want to read? What will they want to read in one year? What about two? Mostly I acquire books that entertain women, that engulf them. When I think about the reader, I think about you. I buy books that I hope will make you smile, make you believe in the magic of love at first sight—I buy books that I hope will heal your heartbreak. I read all the time, big, thick manuscripts. It's part of the job. Each night I take home chunks of pages in an extra shoulder bag. I read on the treadmill. I read while I'm eating my take-out dinner. I read before bed, propped up with a pillow, my glasses slipping down toward the tip of my nose. I'm beginning to wonder if carrying all the paper is the reason my right shoulder feels like it's filled with marbles.

In the morning I get up and I flip on the radio. NPR and a cup of coffee. I'm always running late—I can never figure out what to wear. I'm almost twenty-eight years old and I'm always trying to look older. I hate blazers and button-up shirts. I hate walking the streets of New York in high heels; the men gawk and the concrete wears them down until the metal pokes out the bottom. I lock the door and say goodbye to the cat, hoping for her that today, there will be pigeons.

I read on the subway, pressed up against a big man whose breath smells like rotten eggs and stale coffee. Next to me is a fat, middle-aged stockbroker, staring over the top of his
Wall Street Journal
at the gap between the taught fabric of a blond woman's skirt. He has a slim gold wedding band on, and I wonder if the woman who gave it to him believed in love at first sight.

The train shoots underground and the faces around me look ashen in the yellow lights. I close my eyes for a moment, and everything, the lights, the people, the rapidly receding subway walls, slips away and I am rushing out into the bright sunshine. I walk up a long dune that leads to the beach, where I can hear the sound of the ocean. It sounds like a sigh. I open my eyes to see people looking back.