Finding Out the Truth

By: Beth Cyprian

I was 6 years old and I was starting to question my faith in the Tooth Fairy. I had come up with a genius plan, I had lost a tooth that day, and was ready for my moment of truth. My mom had gone to the neighbors for a last minute dinner plan and had put my then 12-year-old brother, David in charge. After an argument over the cushy blue couch, facing the T.V. perfectly he was forced to sit in the harder red chair, across from the couch. As usual, he fell asleep to Everybody Loves Raymond, it was time to put the master plan into effect. I snuck out of the den and let my bare feet go from the warm rug to the cold wood floor and finally I felt my toe’s curl when they hit the black stone in my mud room. I grabbed my mom’s black leather purse with the gold buckle, which was snapped shut. I saw the yellow lights from my mom’s car gleam through the window and had to hide the purse quickly. I made a rumble apparently because a rather unhappy and sleepy brother came stumbling out of the room. We met in the dinning room and luckily he was tired enough not to notice the black purse clenched against my chest, he grunted and walked off to the kitchen. I ran upstairs on all fours and chucked the purse on my white shelf to join the dolls and fake jewelry. You might ask why a 6 year old was starting off stealing already, but, I had a reason. I thought that if I “borrowed” my mothers purse for a night and the Tooth Fairy still came I would know that the Tooth Fairy was real.

Luckily, I made it down to the last rough mesh carpet step just as my mom opened the red door. I smiled and jumped on her. She tried to talk to David as he grunted and disappeared into the computer room, slamming the door behind him. The house shook and my mom picked me up and I stuck my thumb in my mouth and nuzzled my face into her and took in a deep breath, smelling faint remains of her Aveda lotion. The previous run down the stairs had warn me out. She placed me in my bed and I hugged the Burt and Ernie pillow. Little did she know, my tooth and her purse were two feet away from each other. I gave her toothless smiles that remind her in a friendly little way. She gave me a comforting word about the Tooth Fairy coming. As soon as she left, I went to sleep with a sly smile on my face like a fox who just finished a hunt. Fortunately this fox had the comfort of my soft pillow and ratted quilt help me to fall asleep with all that was on my mind.

The next morning I checked under the pillow and I saw a fresh, green dollar bill! The Tooth Fairy was real! I ran downstairs to return the purse and gladly share with my mom the clever story I had concocted. She scolded me, but her dark eyes and sleepy face didn’t scare me, in my opinion, I was a genius. She shared with me how she was worried about her credit cards, while laughing at me for doubting my belief in the Tooth Fairy.

For the next two years I went on believing in the Tooth Fairy, until I, a very mature 8 year old confronted my mom on how I knew that the Tooth Fairy, Santa and the Easter Bunny where not real. She stopped dead in her tracks on the main street in Barre, in front of Lenny’s Shoes. I stopped too and told her again, “ I know I’m right mom, there is no use lying to me anymore. You and Santa have the same handwriting, and sometimes Ron and Santa do too.” She looked and me heartbroken. Speechless, but I could see in her eyes that she wanted to scream at me for ruining this for her, because I was the baby and now it was over. To her, this was the first step out of my childhood and she couldn’t bare it. But there was one question I needed answered, so I asked her, “Where did you get that dollar from, the night I stole your purse to see if the Tooth Fairy was real?” We had started walking again and she looked at me while she laughed. She then informed me that she had to pay David because he was being an demanding and had to find a dollar for me, so she took a dollar from David and then paid him with the Girl Scout cookie money I had raised. Then I was the one to stop dead in my tracks. I looked at her and said “YOU TOOK MY GIRL SCOUT MONEY!” she said not to yell, and that she paid it back once she got her purse back. I gave her the look to end all looks and got in the car. You know the glare those 8 year olds give. The one that makes you get shivers up your spine because the silent look, perched lips and “I can’t believe you” eyes just tells you that you have done wrong. This was to add to the cold sea from the autumn day, and the radio buttons where just as cold as I pressed number two on the preset for 107.1 Work FM. On the way back she kept blabbering on how I couldn’t tell any of my friends that the Toothy Fairy but more importantly Santa was not real.

Little did she know that about a week later I was standing in Kathryn Boynton’s parlor. We were playing with Barbie and Ken…they were about go on a date, but then I said “Hey Kathryn! Guess what…SANTA ISN’T REAL!” “What?” she said, “How do you know?” I responded, feeling even older with, “ My mom told me”. Her happy childhood face dropped down to a frown as she took in the fact that Santa was just her parents. I was on my way to making sure every parent would have to take the same dramatic step my mom had to live with, as there children stop believing in the one thing that represents your childhood best, Santa…and I felt brilliantly evil!