Mrs. Parks shook her head. "We took her to the vet. He told us that there's nothing wrong with her, but he didn't believe that she was from the same litter as the rest. He said she's biologically too young to have been born at the same time as the others, and that she's most likely a stray. That explanation would have satisfied us for one of her littermates, but not Flame. Her marking is too distinct."
That fit with the reports of missing time from twenty years ago. So far he hadn't heard anything that couldn't be explained rationally, with a bit of effort, but added to the previous evidence that had been filed and forgotten, it made a convincing case that something was going on. "Show me your fairy ring."
She appeared slightly embarrassed. "I wouldn't exactly call it that. My kids came up with that description."
He grinned to ease her discomfort. "Hey, don't worry, I clapped for Tinkerbell."
She answered his smile with one of her own. "All right. Follow me outside."
The two went back out to the porch, setting the kittens free. The young animals promptly scampered out of sight. Mrs. Parks pointed to a hedge of flowers lining the other side of the driveway. "Behind there."
"Thank you. I'll check it out." Mulder started down the sidewalk toward the indicated area while she went back in the house. He stepped around the hedge of daffodils and tiger lilies that hid the small clearing from the driveway. The space was bordered on each of the other three sides by a tree. Paralleling the hedge on the opposite side of the clearing was the fence that separated this property from that of the neighbors.
The fairy ring was plainly demarcated, even without toadstools. In the center of the clearing was a circle roughly the size of a child's wading pool in which the grass was an inch shorter and violets were sprinkled among the blades.
He began a variety of simple tests, using materials at hand. He tossed several foreign objects into the circle, pebbles and leaves. None of them seemed to have any effect and they stubbornly refused to vanish before his eyes. He plucked a twig off the ground and waved it in the air over the ring. Nothing.
He pulled out his handy stopwatches, made sure they were synchronized, and allowed one to dangle inside the circle. When he removed it five minutes later, the two watches still matched time exactly. No automatic time loss, then.
He sat back on the grass and gave the problem some hard thought. If, by some remote chance, aliens were using this as a contact spot, it might only be at specific intervals. In that case, the probability of actually catching them at it was practically nil. If Scully had come, she would be thoroughly bored and attempting to convince him to give it all up as a bad job.
But then he wouldn't have such a wonderful opportunity to relax. She no doubt enjoyed sitting in a stuffy hotel ballroom, listening to panels discuss horribly deadly, exotic diseases, but that wasn't his idea of a good vacation. On the other hand, here he was in a secluded spot on a pleasant day, the sweet perfume of lilacs in the air, children laughing in the background, delightful music, no pressure...
He paused. Music? He distinctly heard a tune drifting toward him, a melody he could only describe as lilting. He stood and turned to peer over the hedge at the children, but the boys were busy pushing each other on a tire swing hanging from a branch of the maple tree that grew beside the back door of the farmhouse. None of them appeared even slightly interested in playing music.
The song abruptly became louder and he spun around to check behind him. There in the middle of the violets sat a young girl playing a wooden pipe with four holes. She wore a crown of chained dandelions upon her brown hair and her clothes had the look of hand-me-downs from an older, male relative.
When she noticed him watching her, she stopped playing and lowered her pipe, smiling. She had beautiful green eyes that, accentuated by dark lashes, formed the focus of her heart-shaped face. She had an adorable dimple on her right cheek.
He knelt down at the edge of the ring to bring himself closer to her level. She must be another of Mrs. Parks' children. "Hi there. My name's Fox Mulder. What's yours?"
She said nothing, but she widened her smile.
He tried a different tactic. "You play very well. You must practice a great deal."
She nodded and shifted her pipe to her left hand. With the other she reached up and dragged the crown from her head, holding it out to him.
"For me? Thank you." He leaned over to take it from her.
Just as he was about to touch the circlet of flowers, she dropped it and instead grabbed his wrist, jerking him off balance. He fell forward, completely inside the fairy ring.