Cluricaun Fairy Trick or Treat

Wildbeam Comes to America


“Did you ever hear of a Cluricaun in America?” Mr. Harris asked his guest, who had come all the way from New Jersey to Cork city. “These are a special kind of fairy. They live in manor houses and are devilish tricksters.”
Mr. Johnson, a wine merchant, laughed. “You’re just trying to spook me into giving you a better deal.”
“No, no.” Mr. Harris protested. “My Cluricaun lives in the cellar. He protects my wine stock from thieves.”
“You pay this rascal?” Mr. Johnson inquired.
“He eats and drinks more than he’s worth, but I can’t get him out of the house without bringing the Cluricaun’s curse on my head.” Mr. Harris replied.
“Master, are you all finished dinner?” The cook asked, interrupting their conversation.
“Yes Molly,” Mr. Harris replied. “Bring us brandy, and when you’re in the cellar be sure to feed Wildbeam.”
That rascal Wildbeam won’t be happy with these bits of herring and cold potato, Molly mumbled to herself as she descended the stone steps.
The Cluricaun fairy was slouched atop a wine casket, legs hanging by the sides.
“Asleep. You drunkard,” Molly spat. She took a sip from his whiskey jar and put the plate on the ground. “Don’t want to be around when he sees that dinner,” she muttered, grabbing three bottles of brandy and making her escape.
Wildbeam woke up at midnight.
“What’s this?” he roared looking at the plate. He raced to Molly’s room, dragged her from the bed by the heels, and pulled her down the stairs. With each knock of her head against the stone steps, Wildbeam would shout out --

‘Molly Jones -- Molly Jones --
Potato skins and herring bones!
I’ll knock your head against the stones!
Molly Jones -- Molly Jones’ --

Mr. Harris and his guest staggered into the hallway, gaping at the spectacle.
“That does it, Wildbeam,” Mr. Harris said through his teeth. “I’m told on good authority, that if I move to another house, putting running water between myself and a Cluricaun, I can be rid of you. Well hear this, I’ll put the whole Atlantic Ocean between us!”
When Molly recovered, they boarded a ship and sailed away to Americay. Neither noticed the stowaway!
Wildbeam had pulled the cork from a whiskey jar and eased his six-inch frame down, feet first. He sipped away ‘til his feet touched the bottom. He was up to the neck in Scotch whiskey!
I’ll be the first Cluricaun to set foot on American soil, Wildbeam said to himself.
They arrived at Mr. Johnson’s home at sundown, just in time for Halloween!
“This is my son, Paul,” Mr. Johnson greeted his friend “He’s ten, and a bit of a scallywag like your Wildbeam.”
“Don’t mention that name,” Mr. Harris groaned. “It’s been great without him around.”
Wildbeam peeped out of his empty jar! Well look at that, he said to himself when he saw Paul, dressed up as a vampire.
Soon Paul’s friends arrived. Wildbeam followed along as they made their way down the dark street. This is my kind of game, he thought gleefully.
“Trick or treat,” they yelled at every door.
He was amazed when they didn’t play a trick on skinflints who gave them nothing. They’re missing the fun part, he muttered to himself angrily.
They had come to a dark house.
“There’s no one here,” Paul said, moving on.
But Wildbeam could see a woman peering through the lace curtain. I’ll teach her not to turn off the lights, he thought.
The back door was open, and there was a bottle of brandy on the kitchen table!
He sneaked into the front room.
She was sipping brandy in the dark!
Wildbeam took twine from his red purse and tied one end around a vase full of flowers, the other to the back of a chair.
He then ran back through the kitchen, picking up the brandy bottle on his way out.
Soon he heard the woman scream and then a loud crash, and he skipped away down the driveway.
Wildbeam caught up to the kids as they were knocking on a big oak door.
“Hello Mr. Murphy,” Paul said. “Mr. Harris arrived today.”
“Great,” Mr. Murphy replied. “I need his advice right away.”
“What’s up?” Paul inquired.
“Last trip to Ireland, I brought back a Cluricaun lass that had nowhere to go when Lord Dunsinay’s mansion burned down.”
“Can I see her?” Paul asked.
“Not this one! She’s either wailing like a banshee in my cellar or breaking everything in the house. Lonely, she says!”
“I’ll solve your problem,” Wildbeam piped up cheerfully, stepping out in front of Paul.
“Cool,” a boy whispered when he saw the fairy trot up to the porch.
“And who are you?” Mr. Murphy asked.
“Wildbeam’s the name, Sir. At your service.” The fairy doffed his hat and bowed almost to the ground. “Allow me to speak to the young lady.”
Mr. Murphy stepped aside.
“Princess, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance!” Wildbeam greeted the fairy girl lying on her bed.
The blotched face lit up at the sight of her own kind. She ran to embrace and kiss Wildbeam. “Let’s celebrate,” she shouted.
“Hold your horses,” Mr. Murphy yelled at the door. “You can celebrate when you’re gone from this house!”
“According to Cluricaun law,” Wildbeam said softly, “I’m obliged to marry this young lady now that she has seen me. And you Sir, have no choice but to take me in or suffer the curse of a Cluricaun!”
“Oh no,” Mr. Murphy moaned, but being a keen businessman who could think on his feet, he thought of a way to best the mischievous fairy. “Listen here, young man. If I have to take you in, you two in turn will have to live by American rules!”
“And what do you mean by that, Sir.” Wildbeam asked belligerently.
“You can’t sleep all day and drink all night in this country, like you did in Ireland. You’ll work for your keep and buy your own booze like the rest of us!”
“Then we’ll not stay in this house,” Wildbeam responded, taking the girl by the hand. “We may be in America, but we’re Cluricauns. Work is absolutely out of the question.”
The couple marched out the door.
“Don’t worry girl, we’ll never be short of a dollar while I have my red purse.” Wildbeam said, taking it out of his pocket. Digging in two fingers he pulled out a large coin. “See this silver piece. A Cluricaun can spend it, and right away there will be another to replace it in his purse. So we can invest the same coin over and over again in this land of opportunity, and we’ll be rich in no time.”
“You know Wildbeam,” she nudged him with her elbow. “I too have a little red purse!”
“Then by god, we’ll be doubly rich,” he replied, giving her waist a squeeze.