Edinburgh Orb

This is a story from Scotland but I figure Scottish and Irish Faeries are like cousins, right? So I’ll tell you anyway.

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Edinburgh

 

One night, not so long ago, me and a mate booked into a hotel in Edinburgh. We were in town to watch the Hibernian v Dundee game at Easter Stadium and didn’t fancy the drive home after, you know. The game wasn’t worth writing about (nil all draw) and we hit the town after.

So the boozer closed and we were well soused and found a van for a bite to eat and set off for the hotel. For the life of us, we couldn’t remember the name of our hotel or where it was. So we started walking and ended up in Holyrood Park, miles from the stadium.

We were sobering up and thinking of sleeping in the park when a circular light like an orb, appeared about 20 feet from us. The light alternated between white and green.

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Of course, we followed it and followed it, for we had no other thing to do, but no matter how fast we walked, or ran, it always stayed 20 feet ahead of us. We couldn’t catch it and couldn’t see anything surrounding it. It’s hard to describe, but the orb didn’t light up the space around it, just itself.

So we followed the orb until it stopped still in front of a gate. It was only then we caught up and saw it. Only it wasn’t an orb, but a small fellow, maybe four foot tall, with very dark, wrinkled skin and a big head, stood there smiling. He tipped his hat and said “Cheerio” and was gone. We were standing in front of our hotel, and sober.

James – Falkirk, Scotland

The Treehouse

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When I was about 10, my dad decided to build me a treehouse over the 4th July holidays.

Our backyard was fantastic, it was more like a meadow, with rolling grass, flowers growing wild along the fences, iron gates and unruly trees of amazing colours. A great garden for a kid to explore.

Dad was a carpenter and knew how to build, he was no hack, he knew wood, he knew trees and had the best tools, but no matter what he did, he could not keep this treehouse together.

He chose an old oak tree which stood right in the middle of the yard and began by setting the supporting beams in the ground with cement. He had no problems with that but when he moved on to the braces and platform, that’s when the trouble started.

The next morning he went outside to find the braces and platform on the ground and the screws (stainless steel) he had inserted in the tree pulled out and the threads flattened and un-useable.

He thought it was stupid kids messing around and vowed to finish the tree that very day. He worked all day and into the evening and, apart from the rails, got the basic treehouse built.

Next morning, same thing, only this time all the treehouse, except the supporting beams, was in a heap on the ground. Dad was seething. We couldn’t talk to him all day he was so angry. He rebuilt the whole thing again and this time, at nightfall, stayed up in the treehouse with a torch and waited to see if the kids returned.

Next morning, I came downstairs to find Dad sitting in at the kitchen table, face pale and hands clasped around a glass of Mum’s brandy. Mum sat next to him with her hand on his shoulder and shook her head at me as if to say ‘don’t ask’.

So I walked over and looked out the window at the backyard and there, all over the ground, were scattered the various pieces of the treehouse. The only thing standing were the supporting beams.

Not a word was said, but later that day Dad took the chainsaw to the beams and cut them off at ground level and stored the wood neatly under the house. All plans for a treehouse were abandoned.

Fast forward 6 years, at my sister’s wedding, Dad got rolling drunk and I asked him what happened that night in the treehouse. He told me that he had been visited, not by neighbourhood kids, but by 3 creatures.

They came at him not from the ground below but scurried across from the branches of other trees. They were covered in green fur and their eyes were big as plates. He said he shone his torch at them and they growled and banged their fists into the wood of the treehouse.

Dad was terrified and tried to grab the ladder to get down when they started tearing the treehouse apart, only not with their hands, but seemingly with their eyes. He said they stared at the joins and the screws and seconds later they just separated and fell to the ground.

Dad jumped to the grass below and stood watching the demolition in astonishment but not fear. He said, once he was on the ground, he felt no fear of them.

When they had finished, the 3 creatures lay their hands on the wounded parts of the tree and mumbled like some sort of ritual. Then they were gone. Dad didn’t see where they went, they were just gone from sight and his treehouse building days were behind him.

Dad grabbed me by the lapel of my tux and said “That old oak was a Fairy Tree, we got off light. Never touch a Fairy Tree”.

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And the tree? well, Dad built a (metal) fence around the tree so no-one can climb it or even touch it.

Sean – Pennsylvania

Welcome

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