The Priceless Tooth

The jagged and familiar New York City skyline flickered beneath twinkling stars. The frosty air shimmered with falling snow. But there was something else more magical moving through the darkness, given away only by the glint of wings catching the pale moonlight. The tooth fairies’ race had begun.

The steady beat of wings blended with the low hum of lazy midnight traffic. Delicate as the petals of a rose in everything but their thorny temperament, the fairies drifted unnoticed among the snowflakes. They flew past windows and doors, their gaunt white faces obscured by black hooded cloaks. The tiny clawed hands of these riders of the night clung to wands made from splinters of rowan wood. They moved swiftly as, one by one, each fairy separated themself from the pack. Tooth fairies operated alone. It was every fairy for themself — the more teeth, the more gold.

Losing the other fairies was not hard for Alura, who was slower than other fae folk. She usually found herself trailing the others as they zipped through the night. Her features were set less harshly in her pale, round face and she allowed her thin lips to smile once in a while. Her eyes were not jet black but a soft maroon. She even blinked occasionally, unlike the soulless stare characteristic of her kind.

When the other fairies were out of sight, Alura brought out her wand to whip up the map of lost teeth awaiting collection. Teeth shaped marks glowed brightly like lamps on the map of New York City which shimmered into existence in front of her. As she examined the map, a few of the marks vanished indicating that the teeth had been successfully collected. Alura scowled. Collecting teeth in this city required a certain greediness, a deceptive, strategic nature. Alura didn’t understand why they couldn’t all share the teeth and gold between them. She picked a flashing mark and set off.

It was difficult work, darting between snowflakes. She had almost arrived when one wiped her out, sending her spinning towards the ground. Regaining her balance, she shook the water from her wings. Shivering, she floated up towards her chosen window. Unsurprisingly, a fight had broken out between two fairies just outside.

“I got here first,” screamed Oren.

“So?” Blossom replied. “I got here second.”

Oren pulled down Blossom’s hood and twisted his claws into a chunk of her hair, pulling sharply. Blossom retaliated by kicking a gnarled foot into Oren’s stomach. Alura edged closer to the windowsill and quietly slipped inside. This was how she collected most of her teeth, sneaking in whilst the others fought.

A boy lay in bed, his chest rising and falling with the wonder of childhood dreams. Alura stopped and watched him for a moment, hoping that her own children slept with the same care-free expression. Maybe, in their dreams, they could escape from their harsh reality for a while. She prayed that she could bring back even one tooth tonight, that there would be one meal on the table, that —

Her thoughts were interrupted as she was unceremoniously yanked back by her ankle and thrown into the corner, where she rolled into a crumpled heap.

“You’re a sneaky little snake, aren’t you?” Oren hissed as he pointed his wand under the pillow.  A smooth and shiny white tooth zoomed towards him. He strapped it to his back, ready to take it back to the Fairy Queen. She would exchange it for gold as well as the human token that he’d need to put back under the pillow. Oren whooshed out the window and slammed it shut behind him.

The young boy stirred in his sleep as a tear rolled down Alura’s cheek and dropped to the floor. It shimmered and distorted, forming an image of her own children, both asleep in one tiny bed. Alura’s stomach rumbled, distracting her from the picture dissolving into the floor.

With new resolve, she brought up the map again to find another house to target. There was a mark flashing on the opposite building. She gently opened the window and slid out. Directly ahead, she could see that there was already a swarm of fairies around the window, hanging in the night like hoverflies. She thought about finding another less-contested tooth, until she noticed that none of the fairies seemed to be going inside. Alura flew across the street, almost colliding head-on with Blossom, who was flying diagonally thanks to an injured wing.

“Watch it,” Blossom muttered, brushing the place Alura had touched in disgust. She noticed the direction Alura was flying in and smirked.  “I wouldn’t bother going up there.”

A heated discussion amongst the crowd grew louder as Alura reached the window.

“In all my years, that is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“I don’t get it.”

“Did you see the tooth?”

Alura jostled with the others to peer inside. She had never seen a bedroom like this one. It was completely white and undecorated. A bed on wheels stood in the middle of the room. Various tubes and machines filled the room and fed into the person asleep on the bed. But the strangest thing of all was that it wasn’t a small child in the bed, but an elderly man with wrinkles so deep, Alura could have easily hidden between the folds of his skin.

The crowd had almost scattered now.

“What’s going on?” Alura asked Cleantha, one of the last fairies still peering in.

Cleantha shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe he’s one of those robots we’ve heard about? Either way, his tooth is one of the worst I’ve ever seen. No way I’m touching that.” She flew off, leaving Alura alone.

Curiously, Alura eased open the window with her wand and flew inside. The machines beeped aggressively as various liquids zipped through the tubes. She watched as they sped into his arms. Surely this was some type of magic. In contrast to the young boy earlier, this man looked deeply unsettled, his eyelids twitched restlessly even though they remained closed.

She held her wand up to collect the tooth under the pillow, but it wouldn’t move. Alura tried again, wondering if there had been some mistake when suddenly, she was hit by something so large, it knocked her over.

Alura sat back. Her eyes goggled as they roamed over the massive, bumpy off-white surface. Down the middle, a huge lightning bolt shaped crack split the huge structure in half. Her tiny fingers ran over the grooves, each one telling its own story.

A wisdom tooth. There was no doubt about it. She’d heard rumors of their size and beauty but she’d never seen one herself.

Then, something else caught her eye. A note peeked out from underneath the pillow. This wasn’t as unusual — a lot of teeth came with notes. But Alura had a feeling that this one would be different. She pulled it out and opened it up, smoothing it out with her wand. It read:

Dear Tooth Fairy,

This is my Grandpa’s tooth. It fell out today when he ate an apple. I put it here as he is very sad. Grandma died last week. Then his heart stopped. I think it is broken. He also can’t remember me or mummy or anyone.

Can you help?

Sincerely,

Brett, Aged 8

How unlucky to have both a broken tooth and a broken heart, Alura thought. She knew what the Fairy Queen would say: there was no value in such an old and broken tooth. But still, Alura had to try. For Brett.

She heaved the tooth onto her back and tied it on with the loop of vine she wore as a belt. The tooth weighed her down so heavily that it took her several tries to jump off the bed and fly out the window. Finally, she made it out the window and into the night sky.

The Fairy Queen lived in the trunk of an old tree in Central Park, which was as wrinkled as Brett’s Grandpa’s face. Ten times the size of an average fairy, she was eerily striking, her skin so translucent that you could see purple blood coursing through her veins. Unlike the fairies’ gnarled skin, hers was smooth and taut. She wore a black dress made from the most beautiful velvet which hung off her thin frame, her disproportionately large lace-like wings creating an intricately patterned backdrop. Her crown was made from the purest white enamel which sat atop her waist-length jet black hair. Her eyes sparkled silver as she surveyed her tooth fairies’ offerings.

Alura joined the line of fairies exchanging their teeth for gold and human coins. All the other teeth were pearly white and shiny.

“What on earth is that?” Oren laughed.

Cleanthra gave Alura a small shove which ordinarily wouldn’t have had any effect, but the weight of the heavy tooth meant Alura toppled over easily.

“Enough of this,” the fairy queen spoke in a quiet voice that could still silence a crowd. “What do you have for me, Alura?”

Alura unstrapped the tooth and presented it to the Fairy Queen.

The Fairy Queen blinked which made her silver eyes sparkle even more.

“You know very well that there is no monetary value in this old, broken tooth,” the Fairy Queen said. Alura looked at the ground as the other fairies chuckled. The Fairy Queen beckoned to Alura with an unnaturally long finger and leant in so that only Alura could hear her words.

“But that doesn’t mean there is no value in it at all,” she whispered. “And something tells me that the owner of this tooth doesn’t want any money.”

Alura dragged the tooth back into her tiny home at the base of the smallest tree. She stared longingly at the heart-shaped knocker on her door, carved out of the purest enamel. A reminder of better times. Her husband had made it for her and it was one of the only enamel pieces that she hadn’t sold. But now, she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep it. Especially if this tooth was worthless.

She pointed her wand at the door and the edges of it expanded so that it filled the base of the tree. She heaved the tooth through it, huffing and puffing.

The tooth took up the entire room, reaching the edge of the bed where her children slept.

“Wow,” the tiniest one, Tiana, exclaimed. She stretched out her little wings as she woke.

Alura put her fingers to her lips so Tiana wouldn’t wake Marin, who was a much deeper sleeper, even though Tiana was the biggest dreamer.

“That must be the gigantic-est tooth in the entire world!” Tiana scrambled to sit on top of it. “Can it be my castle?”

Suddenly, the lightning crack in the tooth flashed an emerald green. With an almighty crack, the tooth split right in half. Tiana screamed as she fell through it, hitting the ground with a thud.

“You know you can fly, dummy,” Marin said, now wide awake.

The whole family looked in awe at the huge tooth halves which were now emitting a green smoke.

“What’s that?” Marin asked. “Look!”

Sure enough, the green embers were forming into figures and, like a television screen, the inside of the tooth flashed with images of a young man and woman.

“That looks like Brett’s Grandpa,” Alura muttered to herself.

The children sat cross-legged in front of the tooth, watching the stories play out in front of them. Various stages of Grandpa’s life flashed across the tooth: traveling around the world with the young woman, their first home, two children and then their grandchild. A young boy smiled out with a toothless grin.

“Who’s that?” Tiana asked.

“Brett,” Alura murmured.

“He looks happy,” Marin said.

The children reacted with amazement at all the memories until the last, which caused tears to fall from all eyes in the room; Grandpa held the woman’s hand as she lay in a beautiful wooden-framed bed and slipped into the next world.

“That’s like what happened to dad,” Marin said.

“Sort of,” Alura said. “Your father was very ill.”

Marin and Tiana sighed as their mother put her arms around both of them. Suddenly, Tiana jumped up.

“Look!” Tiana screamed. “The memories! They’re escaping!”

Green mist swirled upwards from the large tooth and started to evaporate into the surroundings.

“We have to keep the memories!” Tiana said.

Alura knew she was right. It was no wonder Grandpa couldn’t remember anything — all his memories were inside this tooth.

“I can fix it,” Tiana offered.

Tiana had no interest in being a tooth fairy — she wanted to be a crafts fairy. She’d watched her father carve enamel for many years and had worked alongside him, picking up his skills.

Alura took one side of the tooth and Tiana and Marin the other as they pushed the two halves together. Then, starting at the base of the tooth, Tiana pointed her tiny wand at the crack and followed it around to the top and all the way down to the other side. Nothing changed.

“Let’s try all together,” Alura offered.

With the power of the magic from the three of their wands, the crack slowly started to seal up.

“Should we get rid of some of the grooves?” Marin asked.

“No, I think we should leave those just as they are.” Alura smiled.

Alura reached Grandpa’s room just as the sun was rising, the fixed tooth strapped tightly to her back. She peered inside to see a man in a long white coat making notes on a clipboard. When he left the room, Alura edged the window open and flew inside.

Reaching the bed, Alura prized open Grandpa’s mouth, managing to squeeze inside just before it closed again, leaving her in pitch black darkness. She shook her wand until it lit up like a torch and padded along the soft tongue towards a large hole in the back of his mouth.

Alura peered into the hole, a seemingly bottomless void waiting to be filled with his wisdom and memories again. She unstrapped the tooth and positioned it in the hole, sealing it with a flick of her wand. The tooth glinted in the light of her wand.

Suddenly, a huge stream of water nearly swept Alura away as she clung on with all her might to the new tooth. Grandpa’s throat threatened to gulp her away as she found herself slipping closer towards it.

But then, he spoke.

“Brett?” Grandpa said.

Alura took her chance and flew out the side of Grandpa’s mouth.

“You remember me?” Brett asked.

“Of course, my dear boy!”

Alura flew to the windowsill where she sat to watch the family reunited. In the corner, Brett’s mother stood, tears filling her eyes.

“Dad?”

“My darling Laura,” he replied, eyes shining.

She ran over and flung her arms around his neck. “I missed you.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” he said, chuckling.

“And you remember about mum, right?” Laura asked, choking back tears. “She’s… She’s gone.”

“What are you talking about?” Grandpa replied.

Laura sighed and opened her mouth to speak but Grandpa continued.

“She’s right here.” He pointed to his heart. “And here… And here…” Grandpa pointed to both Laura and Brett’s hearts. “Right where she has always been.”

Alura smiled. Her work was complete. Somehow, this was worth more than all the gold in the world. She turned to leave through the open window, but a gust of icy wind picked up, blowing her backwards.

Laura turned to Brett. “Darling, would you mind closing the window please?”

Brett ran across to the window. Alura hid behind the blinds, but Brett looked directly at her as he spoke. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ve been saving all of these up over the years for something special. For you.”

The small bag Brett placed on the window ledge clinked with the unmistakable sound of milk teeth.

Alura’s eyes widened. She flew out onto the ledge and peered in at the pearly teeth. She placed her hand over her heart as she bowed her head with gratitude at Brett.

He nodded and closed the window and, with one last gap-toothed grin, returned to his family.

Alura smiled. She wouldn’t need to work again for some time. But rather than the gold, it was the image of the heart-shaped enamel knocker that filled her mind. It would be able to stay on their door for a while longer.