Fabled (11 page)

I went back in the living room and tried to wait patiently. I even caught myself twiddling my thumbs, a habit that I no doubt inherited in rebellion to what my grandma always said, “If you sit around twiddling your thumbs, the only thing you’ll ever get accomplished is reworking yesterday. Well, yesterday is gone and tomorrow isn’t promised, so do whatcha gotta do today.” She was right, of course, but there was something so nice about introspection and thinking about what was and what could be.

I heard a woman’s laughter as they both came inside.
 

“You know, I think we’re going to do just fine,” Rose said to Chester with a smile on her face. She looked much more pleasant with a smile than the callus demeanor she’d been wearing. Hearing their congenial exchange sent another jolt of jealousy throughout me.

“I think so too.” He grinned. He gave me a quick wink, when she wasn’t looking, and proceeded to sit in the adjoining chair.

“So what’s for lunch blokes? Anything in particular piquing your interests?” She was… bubbly. I silently wondered if Chester was a royal himself, being able to produce that kind of magic.

“I’d like some carrot cake, I think,” he said. “You’ve always made the best carrot cake, and perhaps you’d like some help from Rowena.”

“I’m not much of a cook.”

“Not to worry. I’m the best cook around, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve that I might not mind sharing,” Rose said with a laugh.

I, reluctantly, agreed. Within minutes I was mixing Mezzanine’s version of cream cheese frosting and feeling completely awkward at being in the same room as Rose. Her hands worked fiercely to prepare the cake of Chester’s choice. She attempted small talk.

“So where ya’ from?” she attempted small talk.

I hesitated. I didn’t know if I should tell her the truth, being as it was so dangerous to be from another world.

“I just escaped the Tresels’ castle. I was a servant there. I took care of their daughters.” I decided that would be an adequate answer.

“Oh, so that’s why the two of you needed a hideout, eh? Well, I’m sure you’re glad to be gone from there.”

“Yes. It was detestable.”

“What did you do before the lock down? Were you married?” she asked curiously.

“I’ve never been married.”

“Most folks our age were married. Mezz, even I was.” She snickered.

“You were? Where is he now?” My curiosity got the best of me, but instantly I regretted the intrusion.
 

“He was an old bastard, stuck in the ways of the old world. He decided shortly after the time-out that he’d side with the dark royals and try to find a way to open up the portals and restore magic to its rightful place in Terra. I, on the other hand, wanted to just live here in the quiet. I didn’t want any part of magic. There’s no good use in it; I’m telling you.”

She stirred the batter furiously with her pale hands. The beams of sunlight that broke through the kitchen windowpanes highlighted her beautiful hair.
 

“So he left?” I asked.

“Yeah, he left. He would sometimes trail in looking for a good time, but it’s been ages since he’s done that. There’s no telling what he’s up to. He’s probably been turned into the jackass he really was by now.” She laughed.

The thought of this young (seemingly young) girl being married to a much older man that came home for “a good time” made me realize how much I really did not fit into this world. I am inexperienced, really. Dashielle and I had kissed and maybe approached second base, but that was it. Even the time my mom freaked about us being in the room together, we were only “lightly” making out by most teenagers’ terms. We wanted to, but how can anyone
really
feel comfortable taking such risks at our age? With the rising number of diseases and knowing several girls in school who had been knocked up, there was no way I felt ready to take that leap. Not to mention that there was something romantic and charming about two people who waited to proclaim their love ceremonially before physically. Besides, we both knew that the fun is really in the waiting, not the conquering.
What if Chester and she had… you know…Question noted.

After completing the cake, she began preparing sandwiches for lunch. We sat and talked around the fire after eating. Chester and Rose were in unusually high spirits. He sat next to me. The mere proximity of his lips was torture. I followed them with my eyes every time he spoke. I mentally outlined them. Finally, Rose excused herself. He put his warm hand on my knee and gave it a light squeeze. We both smiled at one another but thought it best if that was all we did. There’s no telling how badly the situation could turn if Rose walked in on us kissing. He hurriedly removed his hand when she started to return.

“So, Rowena, do you have parents here?” she asked.

“Umm… no. I don’t have anyone here.”
 

“Well, we
do
have something in common, eh?” She smiled. I shrugged and smiled in reply. “How did the two of you meet?” I saw Rose’s happiness fading at the realization that Chester wasn’t into her anymore.

“We met in the woods one night. I was lost, and Chester offered me a place to stay until I could find my way back,” I said. She sent Chester a sharp look but broke it with a false smile.

“It was the next day Hans and Greta kidnapped her and took her to Tresels’ castle to become yet another of their slaves,” Chester said.

“You never did tell me where you were from?” Rose questioned. It was obvious that something aroused her suspicions.
 

“Cassel,” I blurted without thinking. It was the only place I could think of, the place that Madeline had told me she was from.

She was silent for a moment. “I’m not familiar much with Cassel.”

“Not many people are,” I forced a laugh and shrugged it off like it wasn’t important.
 

“Oh, but I do know Jenny Babble. Do you know her? I’m sure you do. She’s the town’s gossip. Everyone knows Jenny.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” I mumbled.

A moment passed, and she pursed her lips.

“There’s no such person! I knew you were lying! What aren’t you telling me?” she screamed. I pushed myself back in my seat, frightened by her outburst.

“That’s enough!” Chester yelled and stood between her and me. “No more questions for tonight!”
 

She sank back into her chair and glared at the fire. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I just want to know what I’m getting into harboring the two of you.”

“I’ve escaped from the Tresels’ castle,” I reminded her.

“And that’s all?”

“And that’s
all
,” Chester added.

Later, we had a quiet supper and ate cake, but the day’s sweetness had most certainly passed.

Chapter 10

Dashielle

The phone rang. It was the most dreaded sound in my universe since Halloween, especially when the caller ID said “Rowena’s mom.”

“Hello?” I answered with hesitance.

“Hi, Dashielle. How have you been?”

“Fine, I guess.”

“How’s the job going? Are you still loving it?” she asked supportively.

“I’d love it more if Rowena were here.”

“I know…” her voice trailed, “Listen, are you free tonight for supper? We’d like to have you over. I know it would do you good to get a home cooked meal.”

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

I wanted nothing more than to decline her offer, but I didn’t feel right about it. They’d lost their daughter, and even though I couldn’t understand how it could be more painful than losing your girlfriend, I’ve been told numerous times that it was. All I really wanted was go to work and go home. School was getting difficult too. I couldn’t focus like I used to. Life was without meaning without someone to share it with.
 

Even work was hard at times. All I thought about when I first got the job was how much Rowena would be happy for me, how she had suffered through my rants about my dreams as a radio personality. Ironically, her loss helped create the radio personality/real personality of the new me — Grim. On the show, I interviewed people who have had experiences with the afterlife, with ghosts, with exorcisms, and so on. If it’s something spooky, I covered it. Life took on this whole new fearful aspect. The realization of how easily things could change made me want to avoid loss by also avoiding gain. I hadn’t dated since she disappeared. Every beautiful woman made me think of her. Her features, her personality, her laugh, and her body were what I
really
wanted.
 

She consumed me. I constantly replayed what happened that night and the following days. She simply disappeared, without a trace. There hadn’t been any witnesses, suspects, or solid theories. Everyone assumed she ran away, except me. I knew she wouldn’t do that.
 

As I left work and got in my car to drive home, something bizarre happened. My lips burned a little, just for a moment. Then they burned again. I flipped the never-before-used visor mirror down to look at them. They weren’t red, chapped, or anything.
Bizarre.
I couldn’t help but think about Rowena and fantasize kissing her again. Her lips were full of warmth, and nothing turned me on more. I pushed the thoughts out of my mind, and proceeded to park my car in the parking lot of my cheap apartment. I threw my keys down on a small desk, which served as the dining, computer, and bill area. I sat on the slouchy leather couch in the middle of the room. The trash reeked from the kitchen, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was getting tonight over with and lounging on the couch before ten.

I opened the closet to change out of my jeans and black shirt (I dressed the part at work). My eyes caught the Halloween costume I had on that night. I furiously pushed it to the corner of the closet and refused to look at it again. I grabbed a shirt that Rowena gave me for our one-year anniversary and painfully put it on. I couldn’t stand to look at myself for more than a second in the mirror. Everything reminded me of her, but I knew I had to somehow move on with my life. The only questions were — when and how?

I got in my ol’ VW Cabrio and drove to Rowena’s house. The two story brick split level sat in a cul-de-sac ominously overlooking the woods behind it. I focused on the front door and anxiously made my way up the steps. I hesitated, then knocked.

“Coming!” I heard Lil yell. I hoped the night would fly by, and I’d be on my way back home before long.

“Hey, Dashielle!” she happily greeted then flew her arms around my neck.

“Hi,” I said flatly.

“I’m so glad you decided to come. Mom is making beef stew. She remembered it was your favorite.”

She was right that it was my favorite, but it was only my favorite because it was Rowena’s favorite.
 

Lil led me into the living room and joined me on the couch.
 

“So, what have you been up to? I’ve been listening to your show every day. It’s really awesome,” she said in an unusually high and particularly annoying voice.

“Thanks,” I muttered. I glanced around the room and noticed that Mrs. Snow had undergone a semi-remodel. The curtains were different, there were new coffee and end tables, the walls had been painted, even the family pictures had been re-framed. I walked to the mantle to take a closer look and to escape from Lil’s personal bubble invasion.
 

“Where’s Rowena?” I asked while scanning the pictures.

“Umm… well… Mom’s therapist suggested that taking down her photos might help with her difficulty getting over what happened.” I gave her a you’re-kidding-me-right look. “Temporarily,” she interjected.

The absurdity and cruelty of her mother erasing Rowena from the house made me want to walk out right then, and I almost did until I saw an apparently overlooked remnant of her. Rowena had dabbled in quilting for only a month before she gave it up, and she only completed one throw pillow. And there it sat on the Victorian chair that had once been her grandmother’s. I traced the hand-stitched outline of the squares, remembering her focused and sometimes frustrated face as she weaved the thread in and out.
 

“It’s ready!” Mrs. Snow yelled. She walked into the room. Her brown hair was freshly dyed, not a gray in sight, which was a rarity for her. She wore an apron I had never seen her in before. To be honest, she looked prettier than I recalled.
I guess the house wasn’t the only thing undergoing a remodel.

We all sat at the table, with Mr. Snow sitting silently at one end, Mrs. Snow on the other, and Lil and I on either side. The constant smiling face of Lil increased my agitation, but I tried to ignore it.
 

“I’ve heard that your radio show is doing well?” Mr. Snow asked, attempting to start conversation.

“Yes, sir. It’s being turned into a podcast now. Everyone at the station is pretty excited at the public’s interest.”

“That’s wonderful. I know Rowena wanted it so badly for you…” Mrs. Snow’s voice trailed. Mr. Snow coughed.

“It’ll be the only other podcast I listen to besides Jacob and Wilhelm’s. It would be so cool if you ever got to meet them someday. You’d have to bring me along.” Lil smiled.

“I’m not even sure where they broadcast from, so…” I answered. “I see you’re remodeling…” I directed my attention to Mrs. Snow.

“Yeah. The doctor thinks it best, but I don’t really know that it’s working. Nothing
really
works. I just take it one day at a time. What about you, Dashielle? How are you taking things?” Her voice grew concerned and serious, which made me a little anxious. My own mother hadn’t even asked me that. No one had, for fear I’d actually answer. Most people just avoided her name and anything that may steer my thoughts in her direction, as if they needed help going there anyway.

“I’m okay,” was all I could get out.

“I think it will just take time.”

Mr. Snow changed the subject to sports, even though he knew I had no interest at all in anything involving a ball. I tried to amuse him the best I could since the awkwardness would be worse if we weren’t talking.

After dinner, Mrs. Snow asked us to sit in the living room while she prepared coffee and pie. Mr. Snow shortly excused himself and went to the garage outside.