Amazing what one can feel in the space of a few minutes. Elated, depressed, terrified, exhausted...it can hit at any time. Trying so hard, and still feeling like a failure. What's new? Same shit, different day. An old refrain, from a long worn out song, endlessly played from summer days passed. And other seasons as well. Knocked off the ladder, get back on. Run off the road, call Triple A. And where the hell did that sinkhole come from? Maryanne stood, hipshot, dusty hands on the knees of her faded jeans, tossing her sweaty dirty-blond hair out of her face. She could have sworn she had fixed that spot in the far corner of the yard. Remembered wheel barrows full of rocky dirt pushed up the hill for a whole afternoon. And still the ground caved in again. She swore, her soft southern accent harsh in the sultry heat of the still morning. Damnation! What a waste of time and money. Looks like it was time to call in the professionals. Just as she was about to turn away, she thought she saw something near the lip of the hole, and she headed towards it, swiping the back of one hand across her forehead, leaving behind a muddy streak. She swore again as her sneakers slipped on some loose dirt, then she righted herself, and strode towards the sinkhole. When she got with ten feet, she stopped and stared, then squinted, then shook her head. "Been out in this heat too damned long, woman. You're seeing things." She muttered. She moved a little closer, and bent forward a bit, shading her eyes, in case it was sun glare causing her vision to play tricks on her. But, no. There it was. Plain as day. She scratched her ear, then tugged on it. Then looked some more. "Now I *know* I've been out here too damned long." It was a body. Tiny, maybe two feet long, and mostly human looking. Though the pointed ears gave it away...that, and the iridescent wings lying limply down its back. It stirred weakly, then stilled again. Maryanne frowned, then shrugged, as if to say 'What the hell,' and knelt down. Gently, she lifted it in her hands, and headed back to the house, all the time, telling herself she was a damned crazy fool for doing this, after all, what would Grandmother Carrie say if she ever found out about this? They'd lock her up like they had Great Aunt Selma, over in the asylum across the county line. In the kitchen, she laid the tiny creature on the breakfast table, pillowing its head on a folded up dishcloth. She hesitated, then went to fill a small glass with some water, then fetched a damp washcloth as well. Back at the table, she carefully bathed the tiny face with the washcloth, then coaxed some of the cool water down its throat. Within moments, it revived, sitting up and sucking at the water greedily. Then it flushed with embarrassment, and managed to stand on shaky legs, and gave her a little bow. In a thin piping voice, it introduced itself to Maryanne. "Thank you ever so much for your kindness, dear lady. My name is Pipkin, and whatever I can do to repay you, I will do my best to fulfill it." Maryanne watched and listened in bemusement. "Yup, I'm as crazy as Aunt Selma. Must be it....that, or that heat has fried my brains but good these last few weeks." Pipkin frowned, then the tiny face brightened. "Ah, a disbeliever! Perhaps..." the creature made a graceful gesture, and a diamond the size of a robin's egg appeared on the table. It glittered in the late morning sunlight coming in the windows like a chunk of ice broken off from a winter's night. Maryanne shook her head. "Grandmother Carrie was right. Trying too hard, and doing too much. Should have asked cousin Harry to help with things." She sighed. 'Do figments of the imagination really talk to you? How do you get rid of one?" Pipkin seemed distressed. "Pardon me, but you seem to have a problem in believing me here. Trust me, I am what you see, and I can do many things. You saved my life, it's only fair I repay that kindness!" Maryanne folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She looked at Pipkin for a long moment, her solemn blue eyes weary and still bemused. "Are you the one who caused that sinkhole in my yard?" Pipkin fluttered its wings. They shone like a dragonfly's, translucent as rainbows. "Somebody blocked the exit to the Road. I thought I would *never* get through all that dirt." Maryanne nodded, as if agreeing with something, or someone. "Thought so." Then she started a bit. "What Road are you talking about?" Pipkin sat back down and crossed its legs, still fluttering its wings gently. "The Road to Yesterday. It opens only once every fifty of your years. I was traveling it, when someone dumped an avalanche of dirt and rocks down the exit. About buried me alive!" It looked so put out, Maryanne almost laughed, then remembered the endless wheel barrow trips she had made, trying to fill that hole in, and she sobered. "I was trying to fix it, so I could level out that corner of the yard...

" Pipkin jumped to its feet. "You almost killed me!" Maryanne spread her hands. "How was I supposed to know? I thought it was just a damned sinkhole." Then she felt ridiculous. Arguing with a heat-inspired imaginary little being. She really shouldn't spend so much time in the sun. Pipkin sighed. "I guess I should have known you wouldn't know about it. After all, the last time I came through, the poor lady I talked to went off into hysterics and collapsed. I wonder whatever became of her?" Maryanne had a sudden suspicion, and she put a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beat a little faster. Could it be...? Then she thought of some of the stories she'd heard as a small girl, coming to Grandmother's house long ago summers, listening to her Grandfather spin tales and stories straight out of the air. And fifty years ago...Selma got sent to the asylum, or so the whispered tales went, overheard from grownups thinking she was in bed. No one talked much about crazy old Selma, Grandmother Carrie's sister. "This...Road to Yesterday, where does it go?" Maryanne murmured, though for her benefit, or Pipkin's, she wasn't sure, and she suddenly wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer. Pipkin's large liquid eyes fastened on Maryanne's face. "The Road toYesterday? Why, it leads wherever one wants to go. Back, or forwards, or sideways. It can change dreams, or change the past, or change the future, depending on one's needs." Maryanne, by now convinced she was having a sun-induced hallucination, almost missed that last part. Then she sat forward. "Change the past? It can change the past? How is that possible?" Pipkin shrugged, making its wings flutter faster. "I don't know, I only know it works, if one has the key, and knows the turns." A feeling came over Maryanne then. An intense longing, a deep sadness, she felt like laughing and crying at the same time. Like when she knew Grandfather was dead, and all the emotions became mixed up, and she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. "Does it work for...for people like me?" She hated herself for the hopeful, almost desperate, need she suddenly felt, but she forgot about this being a hallucination, and waited for Pipkin's reply. She had leaned forward, elbows pressing almost painfully into the table top, eyes shining with focused intent. Pipkin frowned. "Weeeellll, that depends. My kind can move freely between, because of our nature, but humans? It does strange things to them..." Maryanne waved it off. "Show me." The need, the longing, had become almost painful by now. She felt...energized, depressed, elated, scared, she didn't know what all, but underneath, she felt that maybe, just maybe, if this wasn't a hallucination, that Pipkin was real, and this Road was real, and it could do what Pipkin claimed...then maybe, just maybe, she would have a chance to change her life. And she knew exactly at what point her life had begun its downward spiral. If she could really go back and change that...she didn't dare think of the possibilties that could result, but she suddenly knew she had to try. Pipkin tugged at its long pointed ear, then stared at its feet, then heaved a deep sigh. "I'm gonna get into a lot of trouble for doing this...but, you *did* save my life, and I guess it couldn't hurt *that* much...after all, I did say I would repay you for your kindness." It fluttered its wings a little harder, and floated up off the table, staring intently into Maryanne's eyes. "I can see you have a need, dear lady. That is the Key. And something tells me, you would know the right turns to make, and so wouldn't become lost. All right, come with me, and I will put you on the Road to Yesterday. I hope you find what you are looking for...and whatever happens, remember me with kindness."

Maryanne stood up, and followed Pipkin back out in the hot sun, though she no longer felt the heat on her skin, nor the sweat that immediately drenched her hair and dripped into her eyes. There was a growing brightness in the back of her mind, the closer she got to that hole in her yard, and to her, it held a wealth of promises, the possibility to change her life, to take the roads once ignored or forgotten, or lost in the pressures of other choices. She thought briefly of Grandmother Carrie, and Aunt Selma, and Grandfather...and stepped into the hole, following Pipkin's bright form, and the brightness in her mind expanded greatly, and for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace with herself. Whatever happened thereafter, she had, at long last, made the right choice for herself, she knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt. I hope you all enjoyed this little story, Please share your thoughts and feelings with us, we would love to hear from all of you, Is there a hidden meaning be hind it? Do you think Maryanne was just seeing things? Do you belive in fairies?