Often there is little explanation for the way the human mind bounces back. Or perhaps I should say that there is little explanation for the way the human mind accepts the normalcy of a mental institution. Because after lunch, I was back in the Headquarters of Fairy Godmothers. I marched through that door, waved and smiled to Mary before hopping up onto her desk, ready for a chat.

I don't think anyone had done that in the office before, but Mary only stared a second before clearing her throat and returning the smile. "So... you like the place?"

I gave one of the practically computerized nods that still stuck with me into the realms of shock. "Yes. After careful consideration, I have decided that I'm perfectly okay with this job. Oh, yes. It's great and it's wonderful and by golly, it's interesting!"

Another stare, longer than before. "Did you just say 'by golly'?"

"That I did!" I laughed, probably sounding like a crazy person. Which I evidently was. This was all crazy, and I was okay with it. I wasn't sure what other choice I had in the matter. "I felt it was a time for a good old-fashioned 'by golly'." I reached into my purse and pulled out an emery board. My special one. Yellow with pink lemons. I liked to file nails when I was nervous or freaked. But I wasn't nervous or freaked. I was dealing with this, wasn't I?

I was probably freaked I was accepting this.

Mary continued to watch me, no doubt bewildered that the new employee––the new fairy godmother––was perched on her desk. "Is... is there anything I can do for you?" It was like listening to a mouse.

I shook my head. "I'm fine. I really do like this job. It's definitely one that's interesting. I mean, it has to be fascinating enough just doing the secretarial assistant stuff. Is it? I mean, how long have you worked here?"

A casual question, I had thought, but a slow blush spilled its way over Mary's face, and her eyes dropped. There was no smile.

I hopped from the desk, taken back. "Mary, are you all right?"

She slowly nodded, and her head lifted. She might have spoken a reply if I hadn't been grabbed just then.

"Tansy Bryner, right? Excellent. Though I should know that, after our training this morning. But I'm prone to be forgetful like that; you'll get used to it, I promise. Come with me." And the mysterious voice dragged me away from Mary and down the hall.

I twisted my head, desperate for a look at my attacker. Linda. My trainer of that morning. Though admittedly I hadn't gotten much of an experience with her, what with the terror of the morning. She was awfully pretty, either late twenties or early thirties. Her dark brown hair hung in think waves at her shoulders. Her pink dress clung to her waist, and for the first time I realized she was pregnant.

"We're not done with training?" I asked.

"You're going to watch me in action," Linda replied. "And we have to start quick because my husband is probably going to have to work a bit later than intended, and someone has to pick up the twins from kindergarten. So I asked Mr. Maser if I could leave early, and he said yes, but it's my appointment and you're going to observe it, and then we can both be out of here!"

She dragged me into the Salon, as I was beginning to think of it, and made her way over to a new door, something smaller, different from Snow White's. For one thing, it was round, a circle barely touching the floor. A ring of seashells decorated the circumference, giving out a distinct aroma of fish.

"Get ready to meet Pearl," Linda said with much less enthusiasm and she opened the door.

One second later I was drenched. I had no time to see the wave of heavy seawater that leapt through the door onto me. I screamed and shoved water from my eyes. The water was cold and stinky and gross and... and I think there was something clinging to my arm.

Linda stood there, hand on the door, even more soaked than I was. Her face was frozen in an expression of neutrality, mascara running down her cheeks.

"What was that?" I whispered.

"Bad day on the ocean. Sorry about that."

I needed a hair dryer. I needed a hair dryer now. We had to stop and fix ourselves up before we stepped through that door. There was no other way. I felt the filthy water draining into my skin.

Except that Linda was already going through. "Follow me."

She had to be joking.

She poked her head through, waves gone from her hair. "You'll probably get much wetter. Just come on."

But I looked horrible.

"Come on," Linda repeated.

At least the water had convinced me I wasn't dreaming.

The door led to a stretch of rocky beach. No, hardly beach, more like a rock just stuck there. Linda was balanced precariously on it, on her knees to protect her belly, pink gauze flying every which way. Water leapt everywhere. The sky was faintly grey. I slowly leaned next to her.

"Pearl!" she called loudly in the same voice she had used to drag me off. "Pearl!"

I didn't ask for whom she was calling. I had a sick feeling that I already knew.

And then she came, popping out onto the surface with even more fountains of water. "Hi! Did we have an appointment?"

A mermaid. Why wasn't I surprised?

Linda sighed, the patient sort of laugh usually reserved for children. "Yes, Pearl. We have an appointment."

Pearl giggled and used a hand to whip back a soaking mess of greeny-blue hair. The stuff was everywhere. Was this not Rapunzel instead? "Sorry. But at least I was nearby. Because I thought we had an appointment but I wasn't too sure."

"Good."

For a moment there was silence.

Then Pearl finally noticed me. "Hi! You're not a mermaid."

"No, I'm not," I said. There wasn't much else to say.

She studied me a moment, then shrugged. "Oh. Then have you met Linda? This is my fairy godmother, Linda. Linda, this is..." She didn't know my name.

"Tansy Bryner," Linda said sharply. The child-patient mother was gone. "She works with me, you don't know her. But now you do. I'm training her. She's a new fairy godmother."

Pearl stared a moment, then nodded. "Oh! Okay, Tansy! That's a pretty name! Tansy, this is Linda. Linda, this is Tansy."

Linda and I exchanged looks.

"She's not very bright," Linda whispered. "Good thing she has the looks." She pasted on a smile and turned to Pearl, who still clung to the rock, her body bouncing up and down in the waves, smiling like an idiot.

Yes, she was quite lovely. Even with the hair. Though I supposed it had an 80's punk look to it.

"So, Pearl," Linda said sweetly. "Have you been using that conditioner?"

The only answer then was another wave that nearly knocked the two of us off the rock. Good thing we were kneeling.

Linda swore.

"Conditioner?" Pearl asked. She hadn't noticed the wave.

"The stuff I gave you last week, dear." Linda was no longer smiling.

I tried not to laugh. Didn't work.

And another wave came.

"Oh! The stuff in the bottle!" Pearl giggled again. It was getting annoying.

Like we cared while we were clinging to a rock in the middle of the ocean.

"Yes! The stuff in the bottle!"

"I gave that to my sister for her coral necklace. See?"

She wasn't wearing a necklace.

"Beautiful," I said. "You have excellent taste."

"Thanks!" She whipped her tail over the surface, spraying me. Not that it mattered anymore.

Linda touched my shoulder. "Let's get out of here. I can pick my kids up early and take them to McDonald's. Pearl, let's reschedule. I'll bring more conditioner. Do you mind that?"

Pearl shook her head as she stroked her invisible necklace.

We stepped back into the Salon, lakes following each step we made.

"And that's a normal day with Pearl!"" Linda announced as she wrung out her hair. "I hope you have seen me in action. If Maser asks, say we examined how the new conditioner is improving the structure of her hair and is keeping it from drying out from the salt––though with her home I doubt we will ever see it dry. And we also have her some scale lotion for her tail. Got it?"

Worked for me. I decided I liked Linda. "Got it."

She twisted her hands around her hair and wrung it out. Water drizzled over her dress, along with a small piece of seaweed. "Ah, well. Back into my sweats. I love being pregnant. I can wear whatever I want. I'll shower later. My husband won't care."

"Does your husband know what you do?"

She nodded. "Of course he does. Though we tell the neighbors I just do make-up for the news teams. Corey... he's in marketing."

"How normal."

She grabbed a towel from the closet and wrapped it around her head. "I know. Isn't it great? I mean, this fairy godmother thing is a great mom job––makes some play money that we can always use. I'll probably quit when this one pops out. Well, you can leave now, though I suggest you take advantage of the Salon right now and get yourself fixed up. You look––"

"A mess," we said together.

The Salon was incredible. I even found a shower in the back. After sampling every little beauty good kept around, I came out into the hall feeling and looking so much better.

The place seemed to be in the middle of closing. I would just say Linda and I took forever. But half the lights were off, and Mary has cramming some things in a brown leather purse, talking to some boy.

Ooh. So Mary did have a guy.

Except, as I drew closer, they didn't seem to be flirting. No kisses, no winks, no smiles.

And then the guy turned away from the desk and started in my direction.

I gasped. He was gorgeous. Tall, very tall, and nice and thick where it was good and comfy on a guy. Sort of that tough teddy bear look––I had always found that appealing. And a red-head. Few guys could pull of red-hair. But it worked very well on him.

He finally noticed me and stopped. "Hi."

Good thing I had fixed myself up. I turned on the charm and stepped closer. "Hi yourself. I''m Tansy Bryner."

"I know." The smile was returned. It was great smile. "Miss Cromwell over there just told me. So how was your first day?"

"Wonderful. I really like this place."

"Glad to hear it. Hope it stays up. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm really in a hurry. We must catch up when I stop in next." And then he stepped around me and continued down the hall.

I stood where I was, confused. He hadn't exactly been rude or offish, or even overly polite. Not rude at all. Just... I wasn't sure. It was an odd sort of reply for a first meeting.

"Don't mind him," Mary called. She was pulling on her coat. Black. She didn't look good in black.

"Who is he?"

"A Maser. Mr. Maser's son, in fact."