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Bono gestured excitedly, and Gavin followed his gaze. A blur of something white caught their eyes. It vanished from sight, however, almost as soon as they noticed it. Bono’s eyebrows raised devilishly, a very MacPhisto-esque pose. “Was I right, or was I right?” He clapped his hands in excitement. “My plan worked!”
Gavin laughed. “You know what Bono? Sometimes you really are too much.”
His pal simply grinned at this.
Gavin continued, “How do we know that was Adam Fairy and not one of the other three?”
“Were you not looking?” Bono said with mock-disgust. “Of course it was Adam Fairy! What other fairy would have that particular swank!”
The two walked back over to where Edge and Larry were talking with Adam. It sounded like they were still trying to convince the latter that he was still on his first drink. From the looks of it, Adam was definitely beginning to feel a bit woozy, as by now he had drank much more than the ¾ of a drink that it appeared that he had.
“Hey Bono, I was just telling Edge and Larry here that I think I ought to call it a night a bit early. I don’t feel so great,” said Adam.
“Aww, ya can’t go home yet. What if our fairies were to show up, and you were missing in action?” said Bono in that persuasive way of his.
Adam replied, “You mean your fairies. Mine obviously doesn’t give a shit about any of us.”
Bono hesitated, and then said, “That’s not true. I bet you right now that your fairy thinks about you more than you think he does.”
“How much you want to bet?”
“Oh I don’t know, how about all my earnings from the Elevation Tour?”
Adam’s red-rimmed eyes bulged. “All your earnings? You can’t be serious.” He paused, taking time to set his drink down on a nearby table to free his hands so he could light up a cigarette. “What do you know that I don’t? Wait, have you talked to my fairy?” The bassist was trying to sound nonchalant, but Bono could tell that Adam was anything but that.
“No…no, I haven’t talked to him…” said Bono slowly.
“No? Then why the cocky confidence there, my good Bono? You mind telling me that?”
Bono nervously ran his stubby fingers through his black hair. Gavin, Edge, and Larry stood behind the singer, each man wondering how much of the “secret plan” would be revealed in this argument of sorts.
Adam was clearly getting irritable. It had been a long day, and with the stress of the upcoming third leg of their tour nearly upon all of them, the bassist was unusually nerved. “Are you going to answer me or not? Where is my fairy?”
No one answered him. Everyone looked to Bono, but he seemed reluctant to speak. Just then, Bono Fairy appeared on the floor next to Bono’s feet, and Edge Fairy and Larry Fairy appeared shortly after him. By now, Bono and Edge had each been surprised so many times by the sudden appearances of the fairies over the past weeks, that now they barely twitched a muscle at their arrival. Larry rarely blinked at anything, and Adam was too drunk to think anything of their appearance other than what odd creatures these fairies were, and then the momentary thought of wanting to bash in Adam Fairy’s little fairy skull for failing to ever show.
“He’s over there,” said Larry Fairy, motioning to the passed-out small dark shape in the shadows of the bar tabletop. “Fairy tolerance for alcohol wears down pretty fast, and this would have been his first party night in a long while.”
Adam’s bloodshot eyes grew large. “My fairy is here?” he gasped, his eyes trying to focus in on the little body enveloped by shadows.
“Yeah, I’m here,” half-grumbled, half-mumbled the slightly inebriated fourth fairy, in-between gulps of drink. “What do you want?”
Adam was so shocked to finally meet his fairy, to the extent that now he was utterly speechless as to what he should say. Previously he had planned to either act too cool to talk to him, or perhaps threaten to squash the little fucker with the PopMart mechanical lemon. He was sure McGuinness could find a way to take the thing out of storage for such a special occasion. But now, he suddenly no longer had the heart to harm the little creature. So, scratch the lemon idea.
“Um, hey there, I’m Adam,” the bass player said awkwardly, extending his hand.
“Hey,” said Adam Fairy. “I know who you are and you know who I am, so let’s just cut the crap, alrighty?”
Bono’s eyes were twinkling. Nudging Adam he said, “Phew, quite the salty tongue on your fairy, eh?” He let out a good long laugh.
“Yeah, I guess so Bono,” said Adam slowly, still in shock. Of course, his “one” drink was having an effect on him as well, lending even more of a surreal feeling to an already surreal setting. “I dink I’ll jest take a seat ‘ere…” he said, but before he found a seat, he managed to crumple to the floor, thanks to the insane levels of drink he had consumed in a couple hours time. He was out cold.
“Great idea Bono,” said Larry sarcastically. “You can go explain to our fans when the tabloids get a whiff of this story.” Just as luck would have it, the flash of a camera blinded them seconds after Larry closed his mouth.
Bono rolled his eyes as if to say, okay guys, maybe I did push the envelope too far this time…but it was fun while it lasted though, wasn’t it? “Well, I think the press is probably more interested in the whereabouts of Osama Bin Laden then they are to hear about U2’s latest escapades…but I guess maybe it was a poorly planned out scheme. So what do we do now?” asked the U2 frontman.
“You tell us, as after all it was your brilliant plan that has gotten us once again into trouble,” said Edge.
“Gee man, I already admitted it was a stupid idea. Lay off!”
The four Irishmen fell quiet for a moment, just staring dumbly into space and at Adam who was still passed out on the floor. All four of them had forgotten about the fairies being there as well.
Bono heard a whisper in his ear. “What was that?” said Bono, straining to hear the little voice.
Bono Fairy spoke up louder in order to be heard over the din of the Irish pub. “Bono, you guys need to bring Adam home, and his Fairy too. Adam Fairy passed out right when your band mate did.”
“What’d he say?” asked Gavin. Bono told the group, and soon they had managed to reach Bono’s Mercedes with the two inebriated Adams in tow.
A couple weeks had passed, and U2 was now busy re-elevating the American crowds. An audience whose hearts perhaps welcomed the Irish band’s inspirational music more than ever. It was a special time for the group as well. They felt needed here. Perhaps without fully understanding it themselves, they had to return in the wake of uncertainty, had to help heal torn hearts and for a couple hours create a refuge in which all attending were at a church of sorts, something utterly unexplainable, as it seemed to encompass something greater than the powerful music alone. Even the Fairies were unable to give voice to this “elevation” when questioned by Bono. Perhaps faith could best explain it here, and for all those believers who have experienced such spiritual feeling while at a U2 concert might see it that way first and foremost. Whatever it was, it was there in full force like always, but with a new intensity that seemed to surprise even the band members themselves.
Grace. It was a concept most welcomed by Bono. These were the ideas of grace over karma, the release of redemption, the freedom of fresh starts, and of the liberty of Love. Only grace, it seems, could look past the highly cynical lemon extravaganza that was the Pop era, could forgive errors of character, could move beyond any faults whatsoever and see that which was the truest light inside each of them. It was extraordinary.
Wham! A football bounced off of Bono’s right shoulder. The singer looked up from his laptop, clearly startled. Edge laughed and said, “Ready to take over the Super Bowl come February?”
Only pretending to be irritated by the interruption, Bono replied, “Yeah, but first I’d like to finish this… I had the idea to write a book about U2, anonymously. No one would ever guess!” He smiled broadly. He was clearly proud of his idea, yet his eyes also asked for Edge’s feedback.
Edge leaned over Bono’s shoulder to read what was on the screen. “Just don’t get too carried away,” he said when he finished, but he said it in a supportive, almost paternalistic fashion.
“Do I ever?” Bono said, grinning.
“Oh, hey, hold on a second though… Look there.” Edge pointed to a passage on the screen. “You’ve mentioned the Fairies. Are you sure you’d want our fans to know about them? Or the press? The media could make us out to look like a quartet of Irish fools.”
“Hmmm…you are right, as always. I didn’t even think about their inclusion as out-of-the-ordinary. Isn’t it funny how they have already become a standard in our lives? Even my kids have been befriended by the little buggers.” Edge nodded in agreement.
“Perhaps we won’t be able to hide them from the public eye forever, but I definitely think that for now it is best for no one but us and our closest friends and family to know anything about them. It would just come off as a bunch of Irish superstition otherwise, a silly fairytale concocted by rock stars making a mockery out of their fans’ intelligence. We don’t want to start alienating our fans.”
“Yeah,” Bono conceded. “Well, I guess I will just have to edit a few parts of my narrative then. No big deal.”
“You sure?” Edge asked, knowing fully well that Bono’s normal inclination was always to speak the unspeakable, and do the undoable. Anything considered taboo was generally fair game for the charismatic singer.
“Well, yeah. You don’t believe I can actually shut up about something?” he said jokingly, and then stopped. Laughing he said, “Well, I guess we both know I can’t!”
