April Fools

The town's water was yellow. Every well, pond and creek featured bright yellow water. The townsfolk were in shock, the water had been normal yesterday, clear and fresh. Beatrice fetched a jug of milk from the cold cellar to drink after finding the water in her own well was yellow. Her thirst quenched, she headed outside again to begin the days' tasks.

Her neighbour, Willard, was already out in his paddock, riding his brown horse around the perimeter to check the fences as he did every morning. Beatrice waved at him then headed to the cow shed to milk the cows and turn them out for the day. Her two farm dogs greeted her with wagging tails as she approached. She nearly shrieked as one of them lowered his head to lap at the water trough beside the shed. The dog showed no signs of illness, gave no sign that the water was different. Beatrice frowned and turned, jogging to the well in the middle of the yard. For the second time that morning, she pulled up a bucket of yellow liquid from the deep hole. This time, she sniffed it, dipped her finger in, shrugged and drank some from her cupped hand. It tasted normal. It was water. But why was it yellow? She dropped the bucket back into the well and hurried to milk the now-impatient cows.

When her morning tasks were complete, she packed a basket with fresh bread rolls, cheese, milk and butter. Smoothing her clothes and tying her dark hair in a ponytail, she left her house and set out down the country lane towards her grandfather's property. He lived in a little one-room cottage with a bustling garden surrounding it. At the back of his yard, nestled among the fruit trees and bushes, a small structure stood, three walls and a roof supported by poles of thick red wood. Along the back wall sat a long bench of the same red wood. A table was built into each of the side walls,each holding an oil lamp and several offerings of food, drink and hand-made trinkets. Beatrice knew about the offerings shed as she had visited it many times with her grandfather to refill or replace the offerings.

Bees hummed around her as she pushed open the old gate and entered the yard. Bright flowers danced among thick herb bushes that fought for space with vegetables and fruit. She followed the haphazard path made of cracked stones to the front door, which she pushed open, letting the spring breeze into the tidy room. The room was empty. Beatrice set her basket down on the small table and went out the back door, blue eyes scanning the jungle of plants for the familiar brown hat he always wore.

The old man was standing before the offerings shed, hands clasped before his chest, eyes closed as he muttered prayers.

'Grandfather?' Beatrice asked quietly, stepping up behind him and laying a hand on his shoulder.

'Bea, how are you, my girl?' he asked, turning to embrace her.

;Good, how are you? Why has the water turned yellow, do you know?'

'They are back. The demons. That's why the water's changed. Gotta make them happy again.' He returned to his prayers.

Beatrice sighed and returned to the house to sit and wait. She had grown up listening to her grandfather's stories of the demons. Creatures created by the flaws of humans. The stories came from his childhood. He claimed the creatures wreaked havoc and destroyed entire villages as they pleased. According to him, the one with colourful hair had plagued his village when he was a child; stealing away herds of livestock, burning crops, turning the churchyard a multitude of colours. Beatrice paused in her musings, her mind catching on that one detail. Perhaps her grandfather's stories had more truth to them than she had thought. Rising from her chair, she joined her grandfather at the shed, placing two bread rolls and some cheese on the tables.

Willard sat on the edge of the loft, legs swinging as he gazed into the barn below. A huge grin spread across his face. He had missed the prank wars with Chaos every year, and the yellow water this morning had filled him with excitement. It had been well over eighty years since the last prank and he had begun to think the Demons were locked up for good. He hadn't wanted to return to his homeland, had grown too attached to the Human World. He enjoyed watching them grow up and live out their lives. As a Shifter, he was easily able to pretend to be a father, a mother and a son, ageing each as the humans around him aged. He had practised drawing and now had a nice collection of “family” portraits in his house. The only part of him that never changed was his eyes, and he made sure to always wear coloured contacts around the humans. He also had to be careful to keep his electronics hidden, as the human world had not yet reached that stage of development. Electricity had yet to be discovered here, so his devices would have had him labelled as a witch long ago. He was under strict orders not to interfere with the humans, only to protect them from the Demons as much as he could. By participating in the prank wars, he drew Chaos's attention away from the humans. His small farm kept him busy between pranks. April first was prank day, as long as Chaos wasn't locked up. He knew the Demons were bad; selfish creatures who only cared about their own enjoyment no matter the cost to others, but he kind of missed Chaos. He had still set up pranks every year, traps and tricks waiting for the Demon to trigger them as he set his own pranks in motion. It was difficult to set tricks that the humans wouldn't accidentally set off, but he had quickly figured out that by watching the humans and learning their routines he could set his pranks in places they would not go. A cricket chirped in his pocket and he pulled out his mobile phone, unlocking it quickly to see what the notification was. One of his tricks had gone off, the small motion-sensor camera hidden nearby had been triggered and alerted his phone. A photo appeared on the display, a man with colourful hair stood in shock, covered in thick green sludge. Willard laughed, glad that the effort of collecting the algae from his pond had been worth it this year. He locked his phone and replaced it in his pocket. Stretching, he got up and climbed down the ladder from the loft. He still had tasks around the farm to do, his pranks had been set late yesterday and his phone would alert him if any others were triggered.

Beatrice was dozing on the bench in the shed, her grandfather had returned to the house earlier, leaving her praying. When she opened her eyes, an unfamiliar man was staring at her from the open entrance. His hair changed constantly, a swirling mixture of every colour in the rainbow. His eyes matched his hair, unnerving her as she found herself mesmerised.

'Who are you?' she asked, dragging her eyes from his.

'Who are you?' he responded, a smile on his face.

'Beatrice. This is my grandfather's property. Who are you and why are you here?'

'Nice to meet you. This is a nice property. I like the things your grandfather leaves for me. Are you an offering, too?'

'What? No! Of course not. I just fell asleep.' Beatrice leapt to her feet as the man chuckled.

'Aw, you'd be a nice offering for me to take home. But I guess kidnapping you would get me in trouble again. I only just got my freedom, don't wanna lose it again yet. Maybe I'll come back and get you another time.' He grabbed a bread roll from the closest table and bit into it, moaning appreciatively. 'You didn't happen to notice anyone carrying around green sludge lately, did you?'

'Um, no, sorry. Did you change the water to yellow?'

'Yeah. You like it?' he chuckled.

'It's alright. But I prefer it clear. Just what I'm used to, I guess.'

'It'll change back tomorrow, no worries.'

'Oh. Good. Thank you.'

The man shrugged, grabbed the other bread roll and vanished into thin air. Beatrice rubbed her eyes and checked the tables to make sure she hadn't been dreaming. The bread rolls were gone. The man had been there.

Willard scrolled through the photos on his phone, grinning like a child. Pond slime, orange sand with powdered chilli, feathers, deep purple juice from berries that stained everything it came into contact with, the classic off-milk, Chaos had fallen for quite a few of his traps this year. He had been silly enough to clean himself off after each practical joke. Willard shook his head and replaced the phone in his pocket so he would have both hands free to lock up his goats. When he looked in the paddock, he froze. Where he usually kept four goats, there were now five. Five fully grown goats grazing quietly in the paddock. Willard jumped the fence and walked over to them, trying to figure out where the fifth had come from. They looked up at his approach and began slowly walking towards the gate, knowing it was bed time. The fifth goat went along with the others, peacefully plodding along. Willard opened the gate and the goats filed through into the smaller yard, heading for the shed that housed the oat trough and water trough. Willard locked the gate and scratched his head, deciding he would have to ask around town if anyone was missing a goat. They were known to be cheeky and intelligent, perhaps this one had escaped it's home and made friends with his goats. He turned for the house but was stopped in his tracks by a voice.

'Had a good day?'

Willard turned to face the man standing in the goat yard. 'Yes, yourself?'

'Oh, you know, not bad. Liked your traps. The itching powder was good, as was the berry juice. Real hard to get rid of,' the man replied, holding out his hands to show they were still lightly stained purple.

'Itching powder? Oh, the chilli powder. Thought that would burn.'

'It did a bit, then it was just itchy. Must be due to my skin. I'm used to heat.'

'Was the water your only prank?'

'The water, I stuck all the chairs to the ceiling in the school and the church, I was going to flood the town hall but your feathers stopped me, oh and of course the goat.'

'Where is the goat?'

'You're looking at him. I can change my shape, too, Shifter.'

'Goats are chaotic?'

'Of course, you keep them, you should know they have a penchant for mischief.'

Willard chuckled. 'Yes, they do. So, same time next year?'

'I look forward to it. And I will be prepared. I thought you would have left by now. I will get you back.'

'Shaking in my boots, demon.' They grinned at each other, Chaos tilted his head in a slight nod then vanished, leaving Willard to plan his pranks for the next year.