Synopsis
An inquisitive young man with a knack for botany disturbs the supernatural
balance of power in a rural Pennsylvania town.
In the tiny Pennsylvania town of LaPorte, most of the townsfolk deny that
there is anything extraordinary about the flora and fauna around them. One day, eighth grader Preston Goodwell
dared to notice, and found himself in peril at the hands of the Davydenko
sisters. On the surface, the sisters
were homely old ladies aged somewhere in their 60’s. However, if anyone checked county payroll records, they would’ve
realized the sisters had worked in town for nearly 70 years. Their longevity never occurred to anyone as
odd.
The sisters shared the same name, Oleana.
To avoid confusion, they split it up evenly based on birth order - Olly,
Lee, and Ana.
Olly drove the middle school bus.
Her withering glare through the rearview mirror kept the kids quiet and
seated. She drove the elementary school
once, but returned to the middle school after one run, all of the
kindergarteners were too afraid to board the bus.
Lee put the “cross” in crossing guard.
Speeding drivers, rough-housers, and jaywalkers all thought twice after
suffering the burning sting of her pointer finger aimed between their eyes.
Ana always smiled and smacked her lips loudly. She ran the middle school cafeteria preparing hundreds of
delicious meals daily with no helpers.
The only English words she ever spoke were, “You like?”, “Have more,”
“Must fatten up!” She delivered these
words with a thick Ukrainian accent.
The Curse of Lake Momoka was another thing that was dismissed as
unremarkable. Every generation, a
youngster disappeared near the lake just around the start of summer
vacation. It was usually that year’s
reigning middle school bully. These
incidents went under-investigated since few mourned these missing boys, even
their families.
Preston was a painfully awkward teen, determined to make his mark by
winning the school science fair. His
geeky weakling persona made him the favorite target of Brock Lansing, the alpha
bully of Sullivan County Middle School.
Brock exploited his peers’ weaknesses with merciless precision. Preston’s mom died when he was eight,
crushed to death at her paper plant job.
Brock taunted him with the nickname Pressed-Down Wellgood and said it
repeatedly until overcome with laughter.
Brock’s ugly freckled face and grotesquely fat body rolling on the
ground laughing was the stuff of Preston’s nightmares. Only Olly Davydenko’s death stare ever shut
Brock up.
On the way home from school one day, Preston fell getting off the bus, he
landed hard on the sidewalk, then rolled onto his neighbor’s unkempt lawn. Ingeniously, his shoes had been tied
together loose to get him to the exit, but tight enough to make navigating the
stairs impossible. Brock’s howling as
the bus rolled away made it clear who was to blame. Preston balled his fists in rage, tearing at the weedy patch
within his reach.
When he calmed down, he found his hands full of pearly clovers that oozed a
sparkling, sweet-smelling gunk. He
noticed that it made his hands tingle.
This was no ordinary plant! He
dug up samples of the plant and hurried home.
No amount of Googling identified the plant in his possession. He contacted the Penn State Agricultural
Department and sent them samples. Soon,
world-renowned botanists confirmed that he had found a new plant species. This would be a science fair winner for
sure!
Preston worked night and day until his finicky mystery plants thrived. He earned his coveted first Prize at the
science fair. He even got to name the
new species. He dubbed it “Loyalsock
Ivy” in honor of the local forest. The
Laporte Daily Review’s front page featured his discovery.
Home alone tending to his plants in the shed, he heard his father’s voice
outside. “Preston I need you!” He stepped out of the shed and everything
went black.
Preston awoke, hogtied and blindfolded, on a dirt floor with no idea where
he was. He struggled against the
bindings around his hands and feet. The
sound of creepy high-pitched giggling rang in his ears.
“Who is there? Please let me
go!” Preston said.
He squirmed enough to dislodge the blindfold. When his eyes adjusted to the firelight, he saw the interior of a
rustic cabin that reminded him of something out of Hansel and Gretel. A few feet away, stood a small group of
people no larger than Barbie Dolls. A
miniature teenaged- looking girl and stern man that resembled GI Joe approached
him.
“Hi Preston, I am Marja and this is Herzog. I speak English best, so my dad here wanted me to speak for
us. We are Fairies.”
“How do you know my name?”
Marja laughed. “I have been riding
your school bus since you started middle school! You just didn’t see me.”
“What am I doing here?”
“Sorry to say, but you have been chosen for the feast.”
“What?”
Marja continued. “Well, you know
the Davydenko sisters? They are Baba
Yagas and get hungry for children sometimes.” Marja started giggling in a way
that made Preston’s blood run cold.
“Ok, I know what a fairy is, but what is a Baba Yaga?” Preston asked.
“Baba Yagas are a kind of witch famous in Eastern Europe for healing
potions and eating children.”
“Wow, this is weird. How did I get
to Europe?”
“Oh, no, Silly, you are right down the street from your house.” Marja giggled again, but now more like a
girl and less like a creepy thing.
While Marja spoke, Preston had continued to struggle against his
bindings. He was pretty sure his one
arm was almost free. Maybe if he could
lure the girl close enough, he could grab her and use her as a hostage to
escape. He remembered he had some ivy
in his shirt pocket.
“Marja thanks so much for talking to me.
I have a flower in my pocket for you.”
Marja crept up closer to him. Just
before she was within his reach, his bindings suddenly pulled tight.
“Silly boy, do you think I don’t know your thoughts?”
“What? But I really do have a
flower. Check the pocket on my shirt!
Herzog climbed onto Preston using his hair as a rope. He slid down his neck and onto his arm until
he reached the ivy in Preston’s pocket.
“Svyate Derʹmo!” Herzog
yelled. Marja echoed in English, “Holy
Shit!”
Herzog presented the Loyalsock Ivy to the fairies standing in the distance. Excited Ukrainian words were exchanged.
“Preston, where did you find this plant?”
Marja said
“If I tell you, will you let me go?”
Marja ignored the question and returned to the place where the fairies were
talking. Things suddenly went black again.
Preston awoke to Herzog shouting.
“Vhy des boy? Because he grows
da LilyVort?
A hoarse voice growled. “Vhat do
you care vhat boy? Dis is not your
business. You get boy ve say. No question!”
“I won’t grow it! I won’t grow
it! I promise!! Let me go!
Please?” Preston cried out.
The smiling cafeteria lady walked up to him and peered down into his
face. She squeezed his upper arm;
Preston realized he was being examined like a piece of meat.
“He’s stringy. Fat, bad boy has
more meat.”
“Ana, shut up!” growled the same hoarse voice.
“Olly, I cook boys only once in 12 years, I vant to cook a good one. Dis one not so good!”
Lee, the crossing guard, walked up and fiercely stomped on Ana’s foot. “Dis is boy you cook!”
Preston surmised that the fairies and cafeteria lady were trying to save
him to no avail.
“Get out of dis home you stinking fairies or we von’t take you to market
tomorrow!” Olly hissed.
Moments later, a door slammed. The
three homely old women talked amongst themselves, ignoring his presence.
“Ana, do you remember vhen rotten fairies didn’t need us? Ve had new boils or bunions every day just
for their amusement” Lee said. “If
fairies get Lilyvort, there will be no end to their mischief.”
“But dis boy too stringy, not good for stew. He’ll boil away to bones in a day, hardly a morsel! Nasty, fatty Brock would be delectable.”
Just then, Olly noticed him, “he avake?”
She walked over, kicked him in the back, and then muttered
something. As he lost consciousness, he
heard Ana agreed to fatten him up in the root cellar for a few weeks.
He woke up in their pitch-black root cellar and started to cry.
“Finally, you’re awake!” said a voice in the darkness, it was Marja. “I have been waiting for you, don’t cry.”
“How about getting me out of here?”
Preston pleaded.
“Sorry, the cellar is enchanted, I can’t.
But I’ll keep you company until they eat you.”
“Gee, that’s a comfort.”
“Oh, don’t grumble. I’ll help you
pass the time. Fun fact - I was born
600 years ago in the Carpathian Mountains.
We lived in a village with other supernaturals. The grownups were always fighting! One time, my father caught a young gypsy
child who entertained us with his flute.
The music annoyed the Baba Yagas so they ate him. My dad was so mad, he gave the Baba Yagas
raging hemorrhoids for 50 years straight!
Next door were these horny wood nymphs.
Nymphs look like hot human girls.
They lured local huntsmen to their hut and kept the whole village awake
all night. We forgot all of our
squabbles when the Russian army came through in the 1940’s and took all the
beech and hemlock trees. We had to
leave behind our beloved mountain, because we had nowhere left to hide.”
“The nymphs had the ability to live anywhere and found easy passage to
safety because of their womanly charms.
To our disadvantage, Wood Fairies and Baba Yagas needed forests to live
in with specific kinds of trees. We had
to go our separate ways. After a
tearful goodbye and a heck of a good party, we disbanded our village.”
“Lilywort or Loyalsock Ivy, as you call it, brought us to the only place in
the world just like our forest, Loyalsock State Park. Many generations ago, a vengeful witch made all fairy wings
shrivel up. Lilywort was our only means
of transportation. We’d stand in a
Lilywort patch, make a wish to be some place, and there we were.”
“We settled into our new home in 1944.
No sooner were we safe, but our petty fighting resumed. A bored fairy is a mischievous fairy and
cranky Baba Yagas are terribly fun to pester.
The sisters covered up their pointy ears and went into LaPorte to escape
our shenanigans. As luck would have it,
word got around that the mayor suffered from rheumatism. The Davydenkos supplied him with healing
ointments, in return for jobs in the newly built middle school. From then on, they were part of the
community. Just to be safe, they cast a
spell over the town to maintain that acceptance indefinitely. Their jobs provided them with a whole
smorgasbord of youngsters to choose from whenever they developed a craving for
tender human flesh.”
“So that explains the Lake Momoka Curse!”
Preston interrupted.
“Now you are catching on.” Marja
said.
She continued. “Not long after we
got here, the Lilywort mysteriously died out and we became dependent on the
Baba Yagas. Some fairies think the
sisters killed the plants. Nonetheless,
our leaders made a pact with them. We
keep our hexes to ourselves and harvest a child every 12 years or so. In
return, they provide us with transportation and supplies. Some of us work in the cafeteria with Ana
just to stay busy but that’s not part of the deal.”
“How do harvest children?”
“We lure them and knock them out with fairy magic, then keep them
entertained while they season in the root cellar for a few weeks. Ana slow cooks them a whole week for the
Summer solstice eve feast. It’s quite a
party!”
“I don’t see me making a very good stew, why me?”
“Well, we all had bets on Brock Lansing.
But the sisters are mad at you for messing up their fairy pact by
discovering Lilywort.”
“Ah, so how do I get out of this?”
“Just don’t gain weight. Maybe you
can talk them into setting you free somehow?”
Preston followed her advice, forcing himself to puke very meal Ana forced
fed him. Marja’s tales from the past
and present helped pass the time.
“Preston, everyone misses you! They
never looked for the other kids the way they are looking for you. The garden club is selling pots of Loyalsock
Ivy in your memory. Now all the fairies
are traveling around by people’s flowerpots and garden beds. It’s so nice to be free!”
The day finally came when the Baba Yagas dragged him up to the kitchen for
his slaughter. Despite Ana’s best
efforts, he hadn’t gotten any fatter.
“Did you really feed that child?”
Olly accused Ana when she saw that he was still so scrawny.
“I fed him every night and day.” Ana replied.
It was now or never for Preston to speak up.
“Ladies, I am very sorry I didn’t gain weight for you. I have a nervous stomach, being in that
cellar really upset me. I didn’t know
growing Lilywort would cause such a problem, I’m sorry. I met those fairies and can see what trouble
they are. But, have you considered the
bright side of having Lilywort back?
You could go anywhere. Maybe
back to your homeland, the war’s been over a while?”
The sisters’ eyes grew wide, why hadn’t they thought of that?
“We could, couldn’t we?” Lee
said. The other sisters nodded in
agreement.
“But not without a meal!” Olly
added.
“Oh, I bet there is someone in town much tastier than I who could fill you
up, don’t you?”
Before Preston knew what happened, there was a flash and he found himself
on his porch. “Boy Botanist Returns!
Lost in Forest, Finds Own Way Home” read the headlines of the next day’s Daily
review. A short article on the second
page detailed the mysterious drowning of Brock Lansing. Sullivan County Middle School administrators
placed a full- paged ad wishing the Davydenko sisters a happy retirement.
On summer solstice eve, after a huge meal of Brock Lansing, all three
Oleana Davydenkos walked onto a newly planted bed of Lilywort and wished their
way to the restored forests of the Carpathian Mountains.
Since the Baba Yagas left, Preston is now grown up and works as a forest
ranger at Loyalsock State Park. He and
Marja remain best friends; she lives in a lovely birdhouse in his garden. Momaka Lake hasn’t claimed a boy in 15
years, but has become a potent warning against schoolyard bullying.
