Nothing was as it seemed.

Felicity discovered this quickly after moving into her new home. The property seemed like a steal when she put in her bid. It passed inspections with flying colors, the appliances were in good shape, and the roof was replaced in the last few years. Now…

“Water…pipes…‘thunk’…” she muttered, her pencil skittering over the notepad. Felicity sighed as she scanned the growing list of ‘fix-its,’ then glanced at her watch. 

“Shit,” she cursed. Ignoring the surge of nausea, she shoveled several bites of yogurt and granola into her mouth. Then she rose, bracing herself on the back of the chair. Grabbing her laptop bag, she headed toward the front door.

Just one meeting.

With any luck, she would be back at the house by noon, and could spend a couple hours subduing a section of the yard before her afternoon calls.

Scooping her keys from the bowl by the front door, she stepped outside. The door made a funny ‘whump’ as it closed and she paused, giving it a stern look over her shoulder. It stood ajar. 

“You’ve gotta be frickin’ kidding me,” she snarled, testing the latch. It did not engage. Frustrated, she jammed the key into the lock and secured the deadbolt. 

Her new house was cursed.

~

That afternoon, armed with tough leather gloves, a trowel, and pruning shears, Felicity waged war against the overgrown rose bushes. A particularly thorny run-in had just drawn blood when her trowel clunked against something hard. Muttering curses, Felicity tore foliage aside, revealing a small statue. 

“Jesus,” Felicity uttered with distaste. Round cherubic cheeks of a mottled pale pink with a flowing white beard framed lips puckered in an eternal jovial grin. The little man sported the bold blue pants and pointed red hat typical of its kind, tragically reduced by overexposure to sickly pastels. Reclined on its side, it gazed up at her with vacant eyes—a creature of exaggerated charm, reduced by long neglect to a thing of nightmares. 

Felicity drew an arm across her forehead, breathing hard and smearing gritty dirt-sweat as she studied the ruined statue. Maybe it was time for a break. She remembered some unopened paint pens in the garage and wondered if they worked on stone. It wasn’t like she could make the miserable thing worse.

~

Forty minutes later, paint pens lay sprawled around Felicity like a corona of color and the statue was lifted close to her face as she added final details. 

The gnome had come out…different. Pale chipped cheeks had been warmed to a nut brown, the beard streaked with silver. The vibrant red cap and cobalt coat were restored, now paired with eccentric pinstripe pants in alternating orange and purple. His saccharine smile had a certain wickedness, and his amber eyes gleamed a little too knowingly. 

Satisfied, Felicity set the gnome among the irises against the fence, then headed inside. Turning at the sliding glass door, she looked back and froze. For an instant, the little elf appeared to touch the edge of his cap, nodding at her. Felicity blinked. Of course, the statue hadn’t moved. 

~

The following morning, the water heater was on the fritz. 

After an ice cold shower, Felicity wandered out into the backyard to pick her next target. As she eased into the tarnished garden chair and surveyed the yard, she rubbed her hand in soothing circles over her belly. There was an answering pressure under her hand as a firm elbow or foot pushed inside her. 

“What do you think of extending the lawn over there?” she murmured, lifting her chin.

The backyard was divided into three sections: a concrete slab with an aged basketball hoop, a lush lawn with an orange tree, and an unsightly patch of dirt. There was a sharp delineation between the grass and the dead zone—the one humming with insects and moist earth; the other a dusty wasteland.

Felicity stood with a grunt and walked carefully over to the place where the grass ended. Easing down with one hand held out for balance, she eyed the dirt patch, then reached out and plucked something out of the dust. A long, rusted nail was held between her fingers. Almost at once, she spotted the head of another sticking out of the dirt. Then another. And another. 

“What the—?” Felicity surveyed the plot with growing horror. “It’s a frickin’ war zone back here.”

~

Later that afternoon, Felicity was back out in the yard, leather gloves and trowel at the ready. She scowled at the ominous dirt patch, then turned to the garden beds along the fence. A smile quirked her lips as the colorful gnome caught her eye. Then she frowned. There, resting against the gnome’s side, was a small glass bottle. It was corked and the glass was warped, like a trinket from an old-timey apothecary. It hadn’t been there yesterday. 

Felicity crouched, touching the ground with one hand for balance, and grabbed the bottle. There was something inside, almost indiscernible through the rippled surface. Curiosity piqued, she popped the cork and stuck her fingers inside to retrieve it. The paper was thick and yellowed, soft like it had been crumpled repeatedly, and rolled tightly. Setting the bottle aside, she unrolled the parchment and revealed—

THUNK!

“Ow!” Felicity fell onto her butt, rubbing her forehead and holding her belly protectively.

“Hands off!” a gruff voice snapped. Felicity’s eyes widened and her head swung around. Movement in her peripheral vision drew her gaze down to where a little fellow with hazelnut skin and a silver beard was glaring up at her. 

“Now you’ve done it!” the irate creature continued, shaking his fist. “I was just taking a shine to you, too. What’s it to be? Stump or stone?”

“Huh?” Felicity uttered. Something had short-circuited between her eyes and her brain. There could not actually be a furious gnome stomping among the irises, gesticulating at her with his pipe.

“Stump,” the little creature repeated, pointing emphatically toward rotting remains in the corner of the yard. “Or stone.” He tossed one rich brown thumb over his shoulder at a large rock. “Which would you rather be for the next hundred years?”

“Um…neither.”

“That won’t do. You’ve peeked at an official missive.” The gnome nodded significantly at the unrolled paper she held. “I’d be remiss in my duty if I didn’t enchant you for the next hundred years.”

“It’s just a picture of…an acorn,” Felicity objected, still reeling at the notion of debating with her garden gnome.

“I’ll make you a stone if you can’t decide,” the gnome offered. “They don’t rot.” He took a deep breath of air that puffed up his cheeks, closed his eyes tightly, and pressed the pipe to his lips as if to blow.

Felicity paused. She was still uncertain whether she was having a hallucination. But a cursory look around the yard revealed several large stones…and more than a few stumps. Better safe, she decided.

She wracked her brain, trying to recall any fairy lore that she could bargain with. Wait, that was it! A bargain. Fairies loved to make deals.

“Wait! I’ll make you a deal!” she blurted. The gnome cracked one eye, giving her a leery look.

“What kind of deal?” he asked, suspiciously. 

“Isn’t there some kind of…favor I could do?” 

The gnome stroked his beard, considering for a long moment.

“Maybe…”

~

“Hi, Rob!” Felicity called, coming down her driveway. 

“Hi, Felicity!” Rob was sitting in his usual perch just outside his open garage door, waiting for neighbors to pass by or come out into their yards. He had running conversations going with everyone on the block and had been the first to welcome Felicity to the neighborhood. She liked to think of Rob as the mayor of the neighborhood, always canvassing his constituents. Rob also owned almost every home improvement tool known to man and was happy to lend them out.

“Look at you! Sure it isn’t twins?” Rob hooted as Felicity approached. She smiled with what she hoped passed as politeness.

“Rob, can I ask for a favor?”

“Anything! What’s up?”

“I was out back and there’s this dirt patch teeming with nails. Do you have a metal detector that I could borrow?”

“I can do you one better,” Rob replied knowingly. “What you need is a magnetic sweeper. I got one off my buddy after we got the roof replaced. Picked up all the nails in no time.”

“Oh man, that sounds perfect. Do you mind if I borrow it for maybe an hour?”

“I can do it for you if you want—” Rob started to rise from his camp chair, but Felicity held out a hand. 

“No, it’s fine. I…uh…have someone coming to help me.” 

Rob appeared dubious, but then shrugged.

“Okay. I’ll just go get it.”

~

“What’s with the acorn drawing?” Felicity asked. She had returned to the yard and was running the magnetic sweeper through the dust to pick up the nails. The gnome sat on a nearby stump, one brightly striped knee crossed over the other, and his amber eyes following the sweeper with fascination. 

There was no response and when Felicity glanced at the little man, she startled at the intensity of his indignant scowl. Then he released a deflated sigh. 

“Progress report,” the gnome replied grudgingly. “Nothing but acorns for ten years. Disgraceful. What I wouldn’t give for a sprout year.”

“What’s that?” Felicity pressed the button on the magnetic sweeper to release the dozen nails it had collected into a large plastic bucket. They plinked satisfyingly as they hit the others gathered at the bottom.

“Acorns are planting and wishing years—they’re expected now and then. Ten years is…” The little man made a flatulent noise with his lips. “Sprouts are things growing, on the rise. But the state of this place…I couldn’t even touch this plot. And you lot are no help. Too busy building your den bigger and affixing little buzzer-ringers and water-pumpers—”

“Hey, I just got here and I’m trying, okay?” Felicity defended. “I’ve been a little preoccupied with all of the random things breaking—” Felicity stopped speaking. The gnome shifted uncomfortably and seemed suspiciously intent to look anywhere but directly at her. 

“Wait a minute,” she muttered. “You broke the water heater? And the front door latch? And set the smoke alarms off at all hours?”

“Big people are nothing but trouble,” the gnome accused. “You steward the land for a while, then let it go straight to shit, smattering poison around and filling it with trash. I admit, I tried to clear you off before you could grow roots.”

“Wow. Thanks,” Felicity groused, shaking the sweeper violently over the bucket to dislodge more nails. “You know, if you’d just knock it off for a minute, I might surprise you. I’ve got plans for this yard.” She made a few more passes in fuming silence. When she had swept the entire area with no new nails, she set the tool aside.

“Here’s to the next sprout year,” Felicity snapped. She picked up the bucket of nails and dumped them in the trash. Then she grasped the magnetic sweeper and without another word to the grouchy fellow, she turned to go.

“Girl!” Felicity looked back at the gnome, who squinted one eye and puffed his pipe as he reclined among the irises. “I am fond of my new pants.”

~ 

Time passed and the garden flourished under Felicity’s care. A watering system restored the ancient dust plot to a verdant carpet of sweet-smelling grass, and a young avocado tree was planted. 

The flamboyant gnome did not deign to speak to Felicity again. But sometimes she spotted him from the window, chin tilted up so the sun warmed his face. And in the early morning hours while nursing, she sometimes heard a rustling in the irises, or the patter of tiny feet that could just be a stray… 

Then again…

Nothing was as it seemed.