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When did it get so hot, she asked herself, removing an old red rag she kept tucked in the waistband of her ankle-length denim skirt and swiping it across her forehead. Sweat and dirt had pasted her sleeveless white cotton blouse to her body, and clammy wetness ran in cold streams down her back. Her silver hair lay hot and damp around her face and neck. She pushed up the brim of the straw hat she wore on her head, and peered up at the cloudless blue sky.

Margarita Grump hobbled unsteadily along the row of cucumber and squash she was weeding, moving the step stool she used as a seat along behind her. She settled herself back down on the low seat and bent to resume her task. Every minute off the 75 years of her life could be measured in the creaking of her joints and the aching stiffness of her old muscles.

The day was as still as it was hot. Birds sang dimly in the trees, as if conserving their energy to endure the 105 degree heat. Not a breeze stirred the leaves of the trees, or the vegetation at Margarita’s bare feet.

“Granny! Granny Grump!” The call came from the house to the east.  Margarita lifted her head and raised the brim of her hat to see who was calling her. The heat rose in waves from the scorched ground, and at first she could see only a vague shape through the liquid ripples. Then a form began to materialize, and Margarita saw her neighbor, a young mother in her mid thirties walking toward her through the pole beans, an infant on her hip and a child of about three in tow.

“Granny, have you seen Goody?” asked Joanna Jakes, looking around anxiously as she spoke.  Little 8 month old Abel, naked except for the disposable diaper that sagged on his little bottom, sucked noisily on a pacifier as he squinted in the heat. Bella, finding herself free of her mother’s restraining hand, toddled over to the tomatoes, plopped down on the ground and began pulling the yellow blossoms off the vines.

“Why, have you lost her?” Margarita asked, trying to place in her mind the child in question as she removed here gardening gloves and slowly hoisted herself to a standing position.  She recalled a five year old, dark pigtails and darker eyes, a solemn expression on her face as she picked strawberries from Margarita’s strawberry frames.

“I was hanging out the wash, and Bella and Goody were under the big oak tree with their dolls,” the frantic mother began. I looked up, and Goody was just gone. Bella didn’t know anything; she just said Goody went to get the tea.”  Joanna stopped for a moment, to wipe a tear from her face, just to have it followed by several others on a dirty track down her face. “I went to the kitchen, but the tea pitcher is full, she couldn’t have lifted it out of the refrigerator without spilling it. I don’t know what to do. I can’t seem to find her anywhere.”

As the young mother turned in a 360 degree circle to survey the area, she stopped suddenly. Facing north. Directly at the rancid water of the bayou that ran along all the properties on this side of the county. “Oh, my God, no!” she cried, a stricken look on her face.

“Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Margarita Grump said, picking up her stool and her gardening basket full of tools, and walking toward her back porch. “Just let me put these down and we will see if we can’t find the little one.” As she passed Bella, she reached down, lifted the child away from the tomato vine the child was decimating, and pulled her out of the garden.

“I am going to call 911,” Joanna said. “If you could look around too, I would really appreciate it,” Joanna said, starting back toward her house. “And could I leave Bella with you for a few minutes?”

Looks like you already have, Margarita said to herself, as she hobbled painfully up to the shaded bench located under a large maple tree just off the back porch. She set her tools down on the bench, and then wiped her hands and her forehead again with the damp red rag.

“Well, little girl, what say we go down and look at the water?” The toddler pulled the grimy skirt of her dirty yellow sundress and wiped her dirt-and-sweat streaked face with it, then lifted her tiny hand for Margarita to hold. Granny picked up the wood cane that leaned against the maple tree with her right hand, and took the little hand offered to her in her left, and the two waddled slowly down the incline to the edge of the bayou.

Wildflowers bloomed in abundance around the edge of the stagnant water, and the smell of fish and rotting vegetation hung thick in the heavy air. Granny looked at the surface, walking from her property to the Jakes property and beyond along the bank of the water. A thick moss grew over the entire surface of the brackish water. A few submerged weeds poked through the muck, but the moss chocked off most of the growth. Insects skittered across the surface of the unbroken blanked.

Margarita removed her hat and scratched her dank hair. “Hummmm,” she muttered, watching as Bella picked up a stick and tossed it into the water. No ripples were created, so thick was the moss, but where one end of the stick broke the surface, a small hole was formed in the otherwise unbroken mossy surface. Margarita placed the hat back on her head, the ties knotted and hanging down the back of her neck.

“Nothing been in this water any time recently. Little girl, come on now, show Granny where you and sister were playing with your dolls.”

Bella took Margarita by the hand, and pulled her up toward the Jakes home. The house was newer than Margaritas by a good 30 years. It was a single story wood frame structure, with a screened in porch and a brick patio. A clothesline partially hung with wet laundry was located about 20 feet off the side of the patio, the half full laundry basket on the ground under the line.

Just past the line was a huge oak tree, and under the tree was spread a flowered sheet, covered with dolls, doll clothing and a plastic tea set. Just beyond was a small copse of hardwood trees that inhabited the entire back two acres of the property. As Margarita and Bella approached the tree, sirens could be heard in the distance. Margarita could see the dust cloud raised by the approaching emergency vehicles as they sped down the dusty country lane. She counted two police cars, a white truck with a row of red lights strobing across the top, and several regular vehicles with dashboard emergency lights flashing.

The first of the patrol cars pulled up as she reached the tree, and the sirens were silenced as brakes screeched and dust rolled over the lawn. She reached down and held little Bella’s head close to her skirt in an attempt to keep her from breathing as much of the dust as possible.

“Humph!” she grunted in disgust, shaking her head as the uniformed men and women piled out of the emergency vehicles. They were met by Joanna Jakes, still carrying the half naked baby on her hip, and now actively bawling. As the search and rescue unit, who occupied the red-lighted truck, began unloading a flat bottomed fishing boat from the top of the truck, Margarita leaned down and took Bella’s face in her hand.

“Now, child, we need to find your sister,” she said, looking the toddler directly in the eyes. “Where did Goody go?”

“Her went to get tea for our dollies,” the little voice rang as the child nodded her head, a sober look on her face. “It was a special kind of tea. Just the fairies can make it.”

“And where might we be finding those fairies?” Margarita asked, meeting the little girl’s grave look with a serious expression of her own. “Can you show me where Goody went to get the tea?

By now the back yard was full of people, carrying equipment, shouting orders. A team entered the house, Granny thought probably to do a preliminary search before searching the premises. A dog team arrived, and someone came out of the house with an article of Goody’s clothing.

“I can’t tell,” Bella said, her face scrunching into an even more serious expression. “Mama said she would tan my hide, Goody’s too, if we go into the woods by ourselves.”

“Mama may have said that, but I did not,” Margarita said, still looking into the child’s deep brown eyes. “Besides, you won’t be going into the woods by yourself, Granny will be with you. Mama left me to take care of you, so if I say you can go with me into the woods that is all right. Now, show me where Goody went to get the fairy tea.”

The little girl thought about this for a minute, her brow furloughed with the effort, before she nodded in agreement. “Shouldn’t we tell mama where we are going”” she asked, moving slightly behind Granny’s skirt as the general chaos of the scene moved closer to them.

“No, for now lets just let it be our secret,” Granny said, “but we had better hurry if we are going to keep Goody from getting in trouble for being in the woods alone.” This seemed to make sense to Bella, who pushed her tiny hand back into Margarita’s wrinkled hand, and pulled her gently towards the cooler-looking shade of the trees.

The cool appearance of the shady area within the copse was illusory. The thicket was dense around the edges, trapping the oppressive heat below the steaming canopy of dense hardwoods. Margarita pushed through the thicket, wishing she has taken the time to put on a pair of shoes. The ground was cool with a matt of decaying leaves and detritus, and it cushioned their steps as they walked further into the woods.

“Are the fairies in the trees,” Margarita asked, trying to get a directional bearing. Bella nodded, pointing to the center of the woods. “There is a fairy fountain, just like in my books, and the water makes a rainbow,” she said, her voice hushed with the wonder of a shared magical secret.

Margarita began to understand now. She pulled the little girl along more quickly, feeling her way with the cane so as not to lose her footing and fall. At the center of the copse of trees, the suddenly came to a clearing where the sun managed to squeeze itself through the overhead branches, falling in drops and splashes on the leaf-strewn ground. And there, at the center, was a small rock pile, about three feet high, lower on the far side where the rock had collapsed. And in the center a concavity, containing a pool of about an inch of water, the oil from the decomposing woodland mulch creating a prism of colors from the splatters of sunlight on the water.

And deeper in the concavity, a small hole, about 8 inches diameter, led down into the ground.

Margarita released Bella’s hand, and hobbled over to the abandoned well. She lowered herself down on the cushion of leaves, joints groaning in complaint as they settled into a kneeling position. She placed her hand on the lip of the small hole. The dirt was moist, but firm, and it was clear the collapse had been recent.

“Goody, child, are you down there,” she called into the darkness. As she listened closely to the responding silence, she was sure she could hear soft sobs coming from the hold.

Bella had her hand in her dirty brown ponytail, her yellow skirt hiked up around her waist and twisted in her other hand. When she heard her sister crying, she began to sob as well.

“Why did the fairies take Goody in the ground?” she wailed, her tiny face scrunched up with fright.

“Now, hush child, so Granny can hear herself think,” Margarita admonished softly, settling into a sitting position and gazing into the woods around her. At first she could see nothing that could help her; then, her eyes settled on her wooden cane. She reached over and picked the stick up by the curved end, and very slowly and carefully pushed the straight end into the earth, not really expecting to be able to reach the girl. To her surprise, the cane reached an obstruction about two feet into the hole.

“Goody, child, can you see Granny’s cane?” she spoke into the hole. There were a few seconds of silence, and then a tiny voice replied, “Yes ma’am.”

“Can you take hold of it?” she asked. Almost immediately, she felt a tug at the end of the stick. “Yes,” came the reply.

“Hold on to the stick with both hands, and Granny will pull you out,” Margarita said, raising herself back up on her old knees with some difficulty. She pulled on the cane, but it did not budge.

“Are you holding on with both hands?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am, but I think I am stuck,” came the tiny voice, wavering a bit this time.

Margarita thought for a moment, then turned to Bella, who had stopped sobbing and was standing behind her, eyes wide, watching. “Bella, child, listen to Granny carefully,” Margarita said, removing here straw hat and laying the cane on the ground. “I want you to take this hat. Take it, do you hear? That’s a girl. Now, I want you to go back to the house, give this to your mother, and tell her Granny has found Goody. You tell your mama, and then you bring her back here, do you understand? Can you be a big girl and do that for Granny?”

Bella began crying in earnest now. “But mama said she would whoop me for coming in the woods alone,” she wailed, tears making a multitude of dirty lines on the dust covered little cheeks.

“That is why you are taking her Granny’s hat,” Margarita said patiently, smiling at the toddler and smoothing her hair back away from her tiny face. “So your mama will know you were not a bad girl and you did not come in the woods alone. Do you understand? Can you do that for me, and for your sister?”

Bella hiccoughed several times in her attempt to stop sobbing, and smeared her fist across her face, leaving a wide red mark. She nodded solemnly, and took the hat. She hesitated for a moment, and then turned and ran out of the woods.

Margarita turned back to the hole. “Goody, Bella is going to get your mama,” She spoke to the little girl in the well. “Are you hurt anywhere, or just stuck?”

“Just stuck, but it’s dark and I can’t move my legs, and my arm hurt,” Goody whimpered in reply. “And mama is going to tan my hide for coming in the woods alone.”

“Honey, I am sure she is not going to be worried about that,’ Margarita said, trying to calm the little girl. “She is just going to be relieved to have found you. Now, you best just hold on to Granny’s cane with both hands, and we will get you out in just a few minutes.”

As she spoke these last words, she heard them coming through the trees. As they caught sight of Margarita, the group of searchers broke into a trot, kneeling beside here and helping her to her feet. A pair of paramedics came through the trees with a stretcher and a wheelchair. They helped Granny to her feet, assisted her into the wheel chair, and pushed it off to the side out of the rescue area.

Bella and her mother, baby still gripped to her side, burst into the clearing. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” Joanna repeated as she ran up to the well. A police officer intercepted her, embracing her and moving her over next to Margarita.

“Why don’t you just watch from over here, and we will get her out as quickly as we can,” the officer said, holding Joanna firmly by the shoulders as he spoke to her. Bella moved away from her mother and clambered up onto Margarita’s lap, where she curled up and turned to watch the rescue.

The rescuers had ascertained that Goody was only about three feet underground, having slid into the earth at a slant. They instructed her to hold on to the came, and began digging a second tunnel down and then sideways into the tunnel in which the little girl was stuck. It took less than 15 minutes, and then the dirt around her crumbled away and Goody was pulled from the hole, dirty and frightened but unharmed.

She was placed on a stretcher and carried out of the woods, her mother and the hermetically connected infant walking alongside. A police officer pushed Granny out of the woods, her cane now lying across her lap, and Bella still on her knee. As they emerged from the woods, a man began walking and then ran to the stretcher, taking Goody’s face in his hands and kissing her on the forehead.

“Daddy!” Bella squealed, wiggling off Margarita’s lap and running to him. The man whisked Bella up in his arms, and then turned to Margarita. “Thank you,” he said, choking back a sob. “Thank you for my little girl.”

He turned as Goody was placed in the back of the ambulance. He took Abel from his mother, and Joanna climbed up into the ambulance with Goody just before the doors were closed. The ambulance pulled onto the dirt road, lights strobing, and headed back toward town.

Margarita stopped the officer who was pushing her wheelchair, and with some difficulty pushed herself back to a standing position. She pointed at her straw hat, which had been tossed aside and forgotten and now lay on the brick patio. The officer bent and picked it up, brushed it off and handed it back to Granny. With a flourish, she replaced it on her head, and then hobbled her way back to the bench under the maple tree, where she picked up her tool basket and her stool and returned to her garden, wiping the sweat from her face with the damp red rag on her waistband.