"The Exploits of the Female Elfish Junior Journalism Society" by Anne Lee Zimmerman

“Will the meeting of the Female Elfish Junior Journalism Society please come to order!” Sandy squeaked unnecessarily loudly into her oversized bullhorn. The chatters, growls, squeaks, and gibbering that had been so loud before that the windows had vibrated in their frames, had faded down to absolute silence long before she had even fully raised the bullhorn to her mouth.

            “Thank you all for coming to this emergency meeting,” Sandy continued, “Now would you all please stand as we recite the pledge.” The motley crew, all female, magical, and under the age of approximately twelve, hovered, creaked, clacked, slithered, leapt, and wriggled to their feet. There were elves in this gathering, but there were also pixies, witches, mages, vampires, banshees, dwarfs, centaurs, nymphs, and even some aners, who aged backwards and therefore looked so old and frail at this early stage of life that they looked ready to blow away in the next breeze.

            Sandy , a very young purple pixie, flicked on an overhead projector and placed a copy of the words on top as everyone launched into a lusty recital of the Female Elfish Junior Journalism Society Pledge.

            “I solemnly swear

            To never pass up a story,

            Seldom falsify information

            And always share any juicy secrets with everyone.

            We are the Female Elfish Junior Journalism Society.

            We will print all blackmail that fits.”

            Once everyone had settled back into their chairs, Sandy spoke again. “I’m sure, by the absence of our madam president, Menthe, that at least some of you have guessed the reason for this meeting.”

            Murmurs arose, ranging from a simple yes or no to general confusion. “I knowww, Ssssandyy,” one goblin with snakelike features and slit pupils hissed, “Menthhe hasss gotten herssself an arranged marriage.” Cries of outrage arose. Finally after five minutes of trying to restore silence, a female dwarf with a delicately braided beard climbed to the speaking platform. “SILENCE!” the dwarf used her enormous lung capacity to shout above the noise. In the ensuing silence she added in a much quieter voice, “Now, I am sure that Sandy has an explanation for all of this, right?”

            “Yes, in fact, I do. Thank you, Helga.”

            “My pleasure.”

            “Now,” Sandy said, “As you all know, Menthe is most certainly of marriageable age. Fourteen is a little on the young side, but her family was in need of one of those high-elfish alliances, and she was next in line.”

            “But Sandy, Menthe knows that all boys are carriers of the yellow-spotted cootie!” a little brownie squeaked from the front row where she was sitting propped up on a high pile of telephone books.

            One of the older, and younger looking aners sighed in exasperation. “For the last time, Treekie. There is no such thing as a yellow-spotted cootie.”

            “Yes there is!” someone shouted from the back, “I did my article on it last week!” Just like that many very vocal debates sprang up in various sections of the room over the existence of the yellow-spotted cootie, which everyone knows is just something out of an old wives’ tale…Ouch! Alright, so there might be such a thing as a yellow-spotted cootie, but that is not the point. On with the story.

            Sandy grabbed her bullhorn again. “May I please have ORDER!” At her shout, everyone stopped fighting immediately, as though they were ashamed of what they had done. “Now I have no idea what has gotten into you all, but I promise that I’ll try to be short. Whether her future husband is infected with the yellow-spotted cootie or not is irrelevant, or even if they exist – yes, Treekie, I see your hand. I’ll answer questions in a minute – but there is the problem with the fact that she doesn’t know what she is getting into. The elf that she is being forced to marry’s name is Adonis.” She flipped on the projector once again and changed the picture to that of a handsome young elf who was seemingly perfect in every way. His skin was flawless; his eyes were crystalline blue; his hair hung down in perfect waves of light gold; his ears tapered to delicate points; the girls in that room had never seen anything more disgusting. Few dared to make any sound after the last outburst, but many shuddered visibly. Sandy nodded. “Now you see why we need to save her? If anyone has an infection of the yellow-spotted cootie, it is him. In case he is not worth a bag of butterfly manure, we need to gather enough evidence to be able to prove that before she gets married. That way she can undo that pesky betrothal and be done with it. Do I have any volunteers to lead a group to accomplish just that?” The hand of the aner that had spoken before shot up into the air. “Fine, the aner in the back. Your name is?”

            “Etta.”

            “Then you will chair this effort, Etta.”

A wail arose from Treekie. “I wanted to lead it!” A large tear began to trickle out the corner of one large brown eye.

“Well, Uh… You can lead it too, Treekie. How about that?” Etta began to open her mouth to protest, but Sandy held up her hand to stop her.

Treekie sat there considering the offer for a little while before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll do it.” Etta groaned audibly and got a stern stare from Sandy .

Sandy nodded. “You all have your assignments? Meeting dismissed.”

“So, what is our plan again?” Treekie asked Etta later as she skipped her way down the packed dirt street. The breeze had the crisp feeling of autumn in it, and that made her hyper.

Etta rolled her eyes and tried to avoid tripping over Treekie, who was now running circles around her. “We are going to go and map out Adonis’ house to make it easier to go after and take pictures of him in action. We are also to hit the underwear drawer and the bathroom.”

“What for?” Treekie grabbed a small stone from the side of the road and skipped it across a large puddle.

“Oh, just blackmail. I think this one is it,” Etta said as they stopped at one large, ornate house.

“It’s only this one?” Treekie squeaked in excitement.

“What, you wanted to search all of the houses up and down the street?”

“No. I’ve been in here.”

“When, in your dreams?”

Treekie shot her a dirty look that plainly said be quiet now or I will kick you, danger of blood clots or no. “No, I have cousins who work in here. And I can get us in, if you want.”

“Well…”

“Come with me!” Treekie grabbed her by the arm and tried to drag her towards a small side gate. Seeing that it was futile to resist, and that if she did, Treekie would only drive her crazy if se didn’t come, Etta decided to be led.

An hour later she was regretting that decision. “What am I supposed to be again?” Etta asked as she plucked at the slipshod costume that Treekie had pieced together.

“A brownie, of course, silly.”

Etta looked down at Treekie, who barely reached the top of her kneecap, and raised one incredulous eyebrow.

“You’ll be my grandmother.”

“Sure, like they’ll believe that, especially since it takes about twenty brownie uniforms sewn together to even cover me adequately.”

“But it’s pretty good for what we had to work with,” Treekie whined. “Just act like you belong here. You’ll be fine. Got your camera?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go then.”

They entered through a side door into one of the most splendid residencies in town, but all of the beauty was lost upon them in their haste to find Adonis’ room. Treekie said that se had never been in that part of the house since Adonis’ normally didn’t require his room to be cleaned.

“That tells us that he probably has something to hide.” Etta almost rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

“Or he is just naturally clean,” Treekie muttered behind her back.

“Ah. Here we are,” Etta remarked as they came to a door that wasn’t marked with any sort of design to denote ownership or special instructions for the army of brownies that it took to run a house of that size.

“Are you sure that that one isn’t just the broom closet?”

A loud burst of off-key singing could be heard coming from the room behind the door. “Perfect timing. We might not even need to come back. Sounds like we might have caught him in the water closet.” They nudged open the door and came to a halt at the sight of the room that lay beyond. It was an enormous suite that, true to Treekie’s prediction was scrupulously clean. It was very tastefully decorated as well, to a fault.

“He has curtains to change to match the seasons? What sort of joker does this guy think he is?” Etta whispered as she snapped a picture of these objects. That was when Treekie motioned her over to the closet.

“He doesn’t sort his clothes by color. That’s a good thing.”

Etta spied a dresser over in one corner and began searching through it. “One thing that he lacks talent in,” she remarked over the state of this piece of furniture, “He can’t fold clothes, but I see no ladies’ underwear. That’s no worry at least.”

Treekie let out a wild squeal at that moment.

“Hush! Do you want to get caught?”

Treekie took up a red leather book and waved it over her head. “I found his journal.”

“Let me see!”

Etta flipped through it, her hopes falling by the minute for any juicy secrets. “Just some junk about parties and dances that his mummy made him go to. Evidently she was the one who came up with the themed curtains as well. Any girls… Wait!” She clicked her camera at one page. “This one mentions Menthe. I’ll just allow Sandy to read it when we get back. There’s no time now.”

“You’re telling me,” Treekie said, “The singing stopped.” Just then they heard the doorknob beginning to turn, and Etta practically flew under the bed. She had no idea where Treekie went.

That was when the highlight of her journalism career occurred. Adonis, the most perfect elf, appearance wise, came out of the bathroom in an Asian silk bathrobe, a mint julep face mask, and curlers. Etta bit her knuckle to keep from laughing and took the rest of her roll of film.

Two days later Sandy sat at her desk with all of the pictures laid out in front of her. All of the perfectly worthless ones, the underwear drawer, the messy closet, and a couple of mess-ups were away in a stack in one corner. Then there was the curler series, as she liked to call them, laid out in a neat row. In the middle she had put the picture of the curtains, simply because she found them amusing, but one pf the pictures out of an entire roll bothered her. It had taken two high-resolution scans to get it big enough to see clearly, but it was completely worth it. Two pages of a journal told her one-thousand times more than all of those pictures combined.

A quiet tap at her door pulled her out of her reverie. “Come in.”

The unmistakably high-elfin face of her friend poked around the corner. “ Sandy ?”

“Hi, Menthe. Where have you been? I sent you a message three days ago. Then I found out what had happened to you and sent out a search party.”

“Oh no. Sandy, you didn’t do anything drastic, did you?” Menthe asked as she emerged the rest of the way into the room.

“Why would your father do something like that to you?”

“I agreed to it. It was my choice at the end, but you really don’t understand him, Sandy.”

“Who? Your father, or Adonis, because I have most certainly studied the latter for long enough. You trust me, don’t you?”

“By my blood – .”

“Don’t start that with me. I’m a little too low class to abide by such superstitions, and you know it. It’s enough to say yes.”

“Fine, I say yes.”

Sandy gathered up all of the various pictures, except for the rejects, and handed them to her. “Look through those later, but that’s not what I really want you to see. This is.” Sandy pulled a huge scroll out from underneath her desk and spread it out over the now clear top. “This is a copy of two pages from his journal. Before I read this, I want to ask you something. Do you really like this guy? Will you be able to stick with him for the rest of your life?”

Menthe looked down at the first picture in the stack, one of the ones of him in the curlers. A small smile curved at the corners of her mouth. “He is from a much better family than mine. Along with that and his looks, he could have had anyone in the world, but he chose me. Is that enough? I also see something in him, some goodness that made him not totally care just for himself, like so many others that I have met. I do not love him yet, it is too early for that, but I think that he is the sort of person who will be able to look at me and really see who I am other than just a high-elf.”

Sandy gave her a smile in return. “I probably will not be allowed to see you again once you are married, since you will be expected to stay at home. It’s been great Menthe, and I will surely miss you, but I guess that you are a very good judge of character.” She gave a small curtsy as she handed her the scroll. “You have earned him.”