1 Dewitched (10 page)

With all my muscle-power, I wrench myself from the monster. Right in front of me is an erect Hook, wearing a proud smirk on his slimy lips. The pig! I should have known!

 “Elz, it’s not what you think!” Oh, God! What have I done?

 “I may need glasses, but I have eyes,” she cries.

 “Yo, Ho, Ho.” Hook laughs snidely.

Game over! I slap him hard across the face. “I’d rather hug a one-eyed ogre than you!” 

Stunned, he rubs the bright red welt I’ve left on his cheek.

Elz runs off into the woods, leaving her twig-of-a-sister behind. 

 “Don’t leave me, you traitor!” shrieks Sasperilla. Still wearing her blindfold, she slams into a tree.

 “I think I broke my nose!” she wails. “Somebody help me!”

As I flee from Hook, I’m shaking like a leaf.

CHAPTER 10

 I usually dread my sessions with Shrink, but today I can hardly wait. It’s been an awful twenty-four hours. Elz has totally avoided me. She sat by herself at breakfast and refused to lead a chant with me during morning meditation. She didn’t even wish me sweet dreams last night. It’s as if I don’t exist.

Lying in the chaise, I grow impatient. Shrink is usually late, but not this late. After fifteen minutes or so, I decide to split. I’m furious with Shrink for not showing up. Of all days!

Rising, I notice Shrink’s bug-eyed spectacles peeking out from under the chaise. That’s strange. I bend over and pick them up. The rims are dented. Maybe, she crashed into something. Seriously, with all that fairy dust, it’s easy to be blindsided.

 Perhaps, she’s somewhere under the chaise. Stooping down to my knees, I run my hand beneath it. Uh oh! Something warm and fleshy. My heart skips a beat. A dead body? To my relief, it’s only a mouse. It scuttles away.

Taking a deep breath, I stand up. And there she is. Behind the chaise, sprawled out on her back. Her eyes are shut, and her little wings are outstretched. Her blond hair has fallen loose and cradles her shoulders. She looks like a fallen butterfly.

“Shrink, wake up,” I say, crouching over her.

She doesn’t move.

 “Shrink, wake up!” I shout. “Wake up!” I fold her wings up and down like an accordion, but she still doesn’t budge.

Oh no! Maybe she’s dead. A fat tear rolls down my cheek onto her teeny weeny body.

“Is it raining in here? How many times do I have to tell them to fix that damn leak in the roof?” 

 Shrink! She’s alive! Feistier than ever. 

“So, Jane, where were we?” she asks as she spirals into the air.

With a sigh of relief, I sink back into the chaise and talk about what happened yesterday with Hook. The words flow out of my mouth like a raging rapid.

“Why are you upset that Elzmerelda is not talking to you?” 

“It’s not fair. I didn’t do anything.” 

“That’s not really why you’re upset.” 

“Okay, I feel rejected.” 

“Yes, you feel rejected. But if Hook rejected you, you wouldn’t feel bad, would you?

“Hardly.”
I’d do a happy dance.

“Do you understand why you feel bad about Elzmerelda’s behavior?” 

I shake my head “no.”

“Jane, you feel bad because Elzmerelda is your friend.” 

Silence.

“Have you ever had a friend before?”

Another flashback. This one to a little girl who’s seen me at the window. She’s motioning with her hand for me to come outside and play with her. My mother isn’t home. An opportunity. I toss my dust rag, dash out the front door, and slam into her on the landing. My mother, her lips clamped as tightly as her fists. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Jane?” Before I can utter a word, she shoves me back into the house, with such force I tumble, scraping my knees on the cold stone floor. A warm river of blood seeps through my torn muslin skirt.

Tears burn my eyes as I shake my head. I never saw that little girl again.

Shrink adjusts her lopsided, dented glasses.

“Jane, let me tell you something about friends. Friends care about each other. You care about Elzmerelda. That’s why you’re upset she’s mad at you.” 

I take in what she’s just said. I miss Elz terribly. “Will she ever talk to me again?” I ask tentatively.

“Yes, because she cares about you. Tell her the truth and give her a little time.” 

The chime sounds.

“Time’s up for today, Jane. I’ll see you here tomorrow.” 

As I step out of her office, feeling much better, she calls out to me.

“By the way, Jane, thank you for finding my spectacles. No more triple air flips for me.”

***

For the rest of the day, Elz continues to give me the cold shoulder. She won’t sit next to me at lunch and avoids me in group. When I join her in Arts and Crafts, she switches to sewing. Finally, we’re forced together for dinner prep.

In the kitchen, we hang out at different ends. I prepare the salad while she handles the main course. She’s still not talking to me. I sing a few refrains of “lalala,” hoping that’ll break the ice, but it’s as if she’s deaf. She completely ignores me.

Fine! Let her be an ice queen; two can play at this game, and I can play it better. I’ll just pretend she’s not here.

Singing louder (okay, so I’m deliberately being annoying; she deserves it), I tear up greens and slice tomatoes. A sudden sharp pain makes me yelp. Shit! I’ve sliced my finger. The cut is deep; blood is gushing out all over my hand. A rush of nausea passes through me. I can’t stand the sight of blood. It sickens me. That’s why I never had the courage to plunge a knife into Snow White’s heart myself and had to send that worthless Huntsman to do it for me.

My finger won’t stop bleeding. To tell the truth, I haven’t seen this much blood in my entire life. Except for the time I lost my child. A bed full of blood, my body soaked red. The painful memory stays with me as I gaze down at the scarlet puddle that’s spreading by my feet. I’m getting woozy.

Elz rushes over to me. “Oh my God! You’re bleeding to death!”

She’s right. I’m seeing stars. My life is almost over! 

Elz grabs a dishtowel and presses it firmly against my wound.

“Jane, hold this tightly against your finger!” 

Wincing, I do exactly what she tells me. The cut’s so deep that blood seeps through the thick cloth. I turn my head away.

My finger throbs. I’m getting woozier and woozier. I don’t think I can hang on much longer. “Am I really going to die?” I ask Elz, knowing full well it’s only a matter of time.

Elz is too busy to answer me. She’s feverishly tearing her white petticoat into long, ragged strips. Removing the blood-soaked towel, she begins to wrap them around my finger until it’s mummified. I take a deep breath as she ties the ends of the last strip together into a neat little bow at the base.

“I think we’ve got it under control,” she says, grinning proudly at her handiwork.

“Elz, you saved my life!”

“You weren’t
really
going to die,” she singsongs.

What! She tricked me into thinking I was going to die! What a mean way to get back at me! And for something I didn’t even do. 

 I glance down at my big-bandaged finger with its silly little bow. My rage melts into relief.

 “Elz, thanks for being there for me.” 

 “It’s okay. You’d do the same.” 

Would I?
I wonder as she finishes making the salad for me.

 I need to know. “Elz, why are you so nice to me?”

“Because you have a big heart.” She smiles.

No one has ever told me that. In fact, during my trial, the tabloids called me cruel and heartless. I’m on the verge of tears.

 “About yesterday--” 

She doesn’t let me finish. “Forget it.” 

Does she know what really happened? Right now, it doesn’t matter.

“Friends?” I say.

 “Best friends!” she beams as tears trickle down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying?”

“The same reason you are.”

I do something I’ve never done before. Not to anyone. I hug her.

CHAPTER 11

 “Rise and shine, Jane!”

It’s great to hear Elz’s wake-up call again. Yet, it’s still a struggle for me to get up and face the sunshine despite being here almost a week. And truth be told, I’m still not one hundred percent over my caffeine addiction.

 “Hurry! I need your help!”

 I blink my eyes open. Elz is more cheerful than ever.

 “What’s going on?” I ask.

 “It’s Visitor’s Day. Mother will be here for dinner. I can’t wait for you to meet her.” 

 I’m confused. I thought she wanted to get away from her mother.

 “Jane, will you help me pick out something to wear? I want to look my best.” 

Okay. I’ll help. She’s thrilled with the dress I choose. Another version of the hideous Snow White costume she always wears.

“I wish I could see myself in a mirror!”

“Pretend I’m your mirror.” In a deep, put-on voice, I tell her she looks beautiful.

“You’re the best friend I could ever have!”

I think about my magic mirror and silently curse it. Why couldn’t it be there for me?

A hug from Elz brings me back into the moment. I’m happy how things turned out between us. Shrink will be proud of me.

“Who’s coming to visit you?” asks Elz cheerfully.

“No one.” I shrug. “I’m not allowed yet. I haven’t been here for a full week.” Though it feels like a lifetime.

“Look on the bright side as Winnie would say. Next week, you can have a visitor.” 

Yes, maybe next week, that dumb-ass dungeon guard will show up. Or that whack-job judge. Of course, how could I forget?
Snow White and
the
Seven Dwarfs!
Come on! Who am I kidding? I have no one to visit me. No one!

Hold on. With any luck, I won’t be here next week. The thought of escaping brightens my spirits. Slightly.

***

The first person I encounter at breakfast is Hook. I’m still furious with him for pulling that stunt in The Enchanted Forest. Behaving as if nothing happened, he notices my bandaged finger.

“Yo, babe. Can I kiss your boo-boo and make it better?” 

It happens to be my right middle finger. I shove it into to his face. He smirks, but I think he’s gotten the message. He turns his attention to Elz. Good. 

 “Elzmerelda, I must say you’re looking mighty fine this morning.” His eyes travel down her beanpole body with a few unnecessary stops. “What’s the occasion?” 

 “Mother’s coming! I’d love for you to meet her.” 

“Wait till Mother hears what you did to me the other day!”

It’s Sasperilla. A thick bandage covers her swollen nose, and under her bloodshot eyes, she’s all black and blue. I bite my lip hard not to laugh.

Winnie, carrying a basketful of berries, lumbers over to us.

 “My husband’s coming,” she sighs before popping berry after berry into her mouth.

Our resident expert on relationships is clearly dreading his visit. “Are your children coming as well?” I ask. 

She lowers her eyes. “No, I don’t want them to see me here.” She polishes off the berries.

 “Dr. Grimm thinks it’s a good idea for my husband to join us in group,” she says at last. “I’m not so sure.”

I’m actually looking forward to meeting him. If he’s not nice to her, I’m going to take him out.

***

I’ve been eager to meet with Shrink all morning. I couldn’t even focus during meditation.

Proudly, I tell her that Elz and I made up. We’re best friends again. Everything’s better than ever.

 “Good,” she says flatly.

Is that all she can say? I thought for sure she’d do a single flip. And doesn’t she at least want to know what happened to my finger?

Clenching a rolled up sheet of parchment that’s twice her size, Shrink hovers over me and scowls. I don’t get it. Have I done something wrong?

“Jane, you lied to me yesterday,” she says angrily. “You told me that you never had a friend. But on this assessment, you wrote that you not only had a friend, but a best friend.” 

What is she talking about? I can hardly remember anything I wrote on that stupid questionnaire. It seems like a hundred years ago.

“It says right here that your ‘magic mirror’ was your best friend.” 

“Give me that!” I wrench the assessment away from her and read it. Damn it! She’s right. We even briefly talked about my mirror in one of our first sessions. How could I forget?

“Jane, why was this mirror your best friend?”

 “It talked to me. It said nice things about me. What’s wrong with that?”

 “Were you alone when you talked with it?” 

 “Yes.” 

 “So, you talked to it when you were lonely.” 

 “No! When I was alone.” I hate it when she puts words in my mouth.

 “Fine. What happened to your mirror?” 

 ‘That kiss-ass looking glass betrayed me.” Hatred courses through my veins. “The traitor!”

 “Friends don’t betray each other. Especially best friends.” 

She’s playing with my head. And I don’t like it. Not one bit. 

She flutters closer. “Jane, the mirror wasn’t your friend. It was a thing. A thing that couldn’t really see, feel, hear...or talk.”

What is she saying? That my mirror
wasn’t
really magic? But I heard it talk. I swear I did.

“Jane, the voice you heard was your subconscious talking.”

I squirm. More Shrink-speak. What the hell is
she
talking about?

“This inner voice told you things you craved to hear.”

“Like how beautiful I was?”

“Yes, Jane. And things you feared to hear.”

“You mean…”

“That some young girl was fairer than you.”

My blood is bubbling like the evil potion that sent me here.

Shrink looks hard into my eyes.

“Jane, you may have played a game of pretend with your so-called magic mirror. But it played a game of reality with you.”

Anger mingles with confusion. I hate Shrink! And I don’t believe a word she’s just said. My mirror
was
magic!