Ten Killer Fairies

Music and Lyrics by Jerry Joseph

She took his hand
Said apologies aren't necessary
You've been a faithful man
Love and Honor are your legacy

Like to fix my hair
And put on my pretty Sunday dress
Cook you breakfast
It's a shame to leave the house a mess
And the baby's crying
And I push his face into my breast…and

Sing to him softly
This is for the best
But it's hard to face the older children
They know enough to understand
They soon will be delivered
Into Jesus' waiting hands

And the ten killer fairies
Won't pull us apart
And I will hold you here forever
Here in my sacred heart

And if the neighbors would just stop screaming
And accept this as their fate
The comforts in the dreaming
Of the paradise that waits

So let's gather up the family
And let's cover up their eyes
This is only temporary
And no need to say goodbye
And the ten killer fairies won't pull us apart
And I will hold you here forever, baby,
Here in my sacred heart

Well out here in the courtyard
The reflection of the sun
Off emotionless sunglasses
And the barrel of the gun

And I can hear the people laughing
Down at the carnival
And I wonder if they'll remember how we lined against this wall
With dignity like soldiers
And forgiveness like the saints
Giving comfort to our children
With a silence like the martyrs and examples we've been made

And the ten killer fairies
Won't pull us apart
And I will hold you here
Here in my sacred heart
And our father who art in heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done
Today…today

Take my hand now baby
Let's look out to the sea
To the tuna boats and dolphins
Let's taste the ocean breeze
And I will not stop weeping
I promised I'd be strong
Just tell me that you love me
Hold me in your arms

And it's funny I remember when I was a little girl
How easy came the laughter
At the wonders of the world
And how one day I would marry
With a family of my own
But the time has come now baby
To take my family home

And the ten killer fairies won't pull us apart
And I will hold you here forever darling
Here in my sacred heart.

Ten Killer Fairies

The boy I was carefully tying the bandages on looked up at me, and smiled. No more than twenty, that was the most he could have been, and already embroiled in the wars of men, not the playing of boys.

So many times I could think of my dear Mother Superior telling me why it was so very bad to let any of the children play at war. Orphans came the most from war, and it was cruel, even to those who didn't know, to let them play at the things that had put them in our care.

I brushed his hair back away from his ashen face, so pale with blood loss. He smiled again, and whispered something to me, but I couldn't hear, so I leaned down, and whispered, "What, love?"

He smiled again, and now I could hear the thready whisper of his breath. "Don't waste bandages on me, ma'am."

I brushed my hand gently across his forehead again, and smiled at him, knowing that I couldn't hide the sadness in my eyes anymore than I could ever hide any other emotion I was feeling, and said, "You never run out of bandages with us around." My smile spread a little wider. "Why do you think I have such large skirts, if not for little children, and tying up the wounds of bigger ones?" He chuckled harshly, and I rose to my feet, to meet Father's eyes from across the large room of the chapel.

I could see the worry in his eyes, even from that distance. Duo had been gone too long, now. I set that aside, and went to the children, all of them lined up along the wall to the refectory, watching with solemn, too-old eyes, all the proceedings going on in their home.

I knelt down to meet their eyes better, and smiled, opening my arms. "Come, and we will do our prayers, and go to bed. Duo will be home soon, too."

David, as close to four as we could tell, still had to look up at me, his undernourished frame an echo of the others, all of them having had, at one point, lived on their own, on the streets. Mary held the little baby, now named Paul, but he was a fretful baby at the best of times, and now wasn't then. I stood back up, and reached out for him. When we'd taken in his mother, she'd made me feel so much older than I was, what with her being only fifteen, and already having done so many of the things I had never even dreamt of doing to stay alive.

I held Paul, and led the children back to their beds, and knelt with them as we prayed for all the things they knew already to pray for, from Duo coming home safe, and, according to Richie, without any holes, to praying for peace for the entire world, and even beyond that. So many solemn eyes, looking at me with so much faith, I felt the mother indeed, to all of them.

But as I was putting Paul down in his tiny little crib, there was a great commotion from the chapel. I looked into the frightened but calm eyes surrounding me from all the beds, and smiled, and said, "Hush, and go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning," and shut the door, feeling the swish of my long skirts as I went quickly back to the chapel, pausing in the doorway.

Soldiers. So many, for such a small space of hopeful peace. Again, I looked at Father, and saw worry, but this time, I knew it wasn't for Duo.

The officer in charge looked at me as I appeared on the threshold, and shouted out for men to search the rest of the church. My eyes closed, but I didn't dare to move, not with all the men around me with guns, ready to shoot me, when I knew that I had to stay still, because the children would be frightened when the soldiers pulled them from their beds.

So instead of rushing to the door they'd pushed me out of, I slowly sank down so I could hold the children when they appeared in the doorway, some of them crying, most of them not. They ran to me, and there was Paul, once more handed to me from Mary's arms.

I smiled at them, and quieted their cries, pulling them close to me, and met the officer's cold eyes. Behind him, Father was crying. He, too, was silent as he watched. I crossed myself one more time, and knew, from the rustling around me, that all the children were doing it as well.

My last prayer didn't come until later, after the fires had gone out, and my children had been given to the Lord. All but one, who came home later, safe, and whole. One more child to watch over, and I couldn't do it anymore, so I asked for God to. Perhaps my grace would follow him through the rest of his life, and let him find more in life than the war that makes so many of his brothers and sisters, and mothers and fathers.

Then I went home, to hold my children.