The Autobiography of Mercutio Polinski (2 page)

I longed to see the writer again and to
listen to his beautiful tales about life and joy. That’s why one
day, I begged mum to let me out. In the end, after lots of
bargaining, she agreed. She ironed my trousers, buttoned my shirt,
and put a blue bow tie on my neck. She gently pushed me out the
door and wished me good luck that day. I don’t know why she acted
as if I was going on a long journey, but that attention somehow
inspired me. I stepped ahead on four legs, and being so excited I
ran to Rosa’s room. There I climbed onto the high bookshelf and
stood on the top of it. Hidden in the shadow of Andersen, I poked
my pink nose out and listened. But something in the atmosphere of
the room had changed. My two favorite people were there, but a kind
of deep sorrow had settled between them. I didn’t know at the time
what kind of sorrow that was, but instinctively I felt very sad. I
even wept, if I remember correctly, because sorrow has the habit of
coming inside anyone it reaches. I didn’t know why I was weeping; I
was just sad. The writer was holding a little book then, and he was
nervously turning over the pages with the tips of his fingers.
Immersed in his thoughts, he was turning the pages without even
looking at the text.

“
Dad,” I heard her clear
voice ring in the room. “Tell me the story of the brave king, who
roamed the world to find a cure for his cursed child. I like it
very much.”

Her father looked at her, startled, as
if awakened from a bad dream; then his look became gentler, and he
smiled at her. I still remember that tale, which I, just like Rosa,
liked very much.

“
In the far away northern
lands, among the snow and ancient ice, there once lived the coldest
prince of all time. He was a handsome, tall young man. with long
white hair and deep grey eyes. He was so cold and unemotional that
everyone in that ice-cold kingdom openly avoided him. The prince
didn’t know why no one wanted to be his friend. Therefore he often
sat alone, lamenting his fate. He wanted to cry, but something
inside wouldn’t let him do it. The sorrow turned into a heavy
burden in his gentle heart. One day, it became so unbearable that
it turned him into a boy who despised the whole world. Even the
king and queen, who loved him so much, were in despair because of
his great badness.

“
One day, the desperate
king decided to ask the Sun for help.

“‘
Tell me, Sun,’ he said,
looking at the sky, ‘do you know what curse has come upon my young
son, and why he is so downhearted and estranged?’

“
The Sun didn’t know what
to say and kept silent. But soon it got an idea.

“‘
Ask the Stars, fair
king. I can’t answer your question.

“
The king kindly thanked
the Sun and waited for nightfall. When it came, he questioned the
Stars.

“‘
Tell me, little
Fireflies, do you know what curse has come upon my son’s heart, and
has made him so cold and hard on me?’

“
The Stars didn’t know
what to say and remained silent. But soon, one of them twinkled
more brightly.

“
The brightest Star said,
‘Dear king, we do not know why your son is so cold, because we
ourselves are warm and gentle creatures. We do not understand the
evil that can be found in human nature. But listen; you could ask
the Clouds beneath us. They are so clever, and often roam here and
there. There isn’t a land that they do not know, there isn’t a
character with which they are not acquainted. It is only they who
could give an answer to your question.’

“
The king nodded and
looked at the greyish Clouds. They hastily replied with one
voice.

“‘
Greatest King, it is
true that we have been everywhere and have seen everything, but
never have we seen such a temper as your son’s. Do not look for an
answer among the creatures of the skies, if you want to reveal the
intentions of the human creatures. Look down at the ground you set
your feet on. The knowledge of your ancestors has flown into it.
Ask the Snow, gently covering all four quarters of the globe, for
he is the good landlord, who keeps the secrets of
mankind.’

“
The king thanked the
Clouds and the Stars, and stroked the snow under his feet. The
fresh, mild, blue Snow was pleased by this attention.

“‘
Tell me, my king, what
is bothering you? Why are you still awake in these dark
nights?’

“‘
My great concern is my
son, who used to be so kind and good to us and now he sees in us
nothing but eternal enemies. He lives in his own sad world where
the suffering has made him a slave,’ the king said,
sadly.

“
The Snow thought for a
while and said, ‘I remember when the prince was born, sixteen years
ago. He had fair eyes and beautiful hair. That was the happiest
event in these lands. I loved him there and then. I decided to take
care of him and protect him from all evil. But I couldn’t keep that
one away.’

“‘
Which one? What evil
could have come upon my son?’ the king asked urgently.

“
The Snow sank into his
thoughts for a moment, and then began telling the story. ‘It
happened one pitch dark night. The Witch of the Three Seas thought
no one could see her. She went all alone into the darkest caves of
the Great Kingdom. In those black caves, never touched by the
sunbeams, she found the coldest piece of ice. Hidden from the eyes
of other living souls, she carved a little blue heart from it. As
she carved, she chanted.’

“‘
A river of tears, of
tears

You shan’t be able to cry,

But with heart heavy of
fears

Away your closest you will
drive!’

“‘
She was singing this
devilish curse, and she infused it into the cold heart. She kept
repeating your son’s name while she was singing this. And when
everything was over, she came looking for the young prince in his
room.’

“
The king nodded. ‘Oh, I
remember that witch. When he was born, she said she wanted to marry
him. I didn’t give him to her of course, and she was furious. She
said she would do anything to take revenge.’ The king moaned and
started crying.

“
The Snow continued, ‘But
wait a minute, my king, let me finish. Black as a midnight ghost,
with hair scattered in the dark air and fetid breath, she then
secretly slipped into the room of our newborn lord; her aim
remained unknown to me. And when she came out of there, she was
holding his dear, live heart in her hands. She hid this heart under
her dress, and disappeared with a burst of ominous
laughter.’

“‘
Oh,’ cried the poor
king, ‘is it possible that the witch had exchanged his pure heart
for the one made of ice?’

“
The Snow did not answer,
because it was such a burden for him to tell this sad story that
he’d fallen asleep before he knew it. The king went back to his
palace and told his wife the whole story. The queen started crying
when she knew the truth.

“‘
May she be cursed!’ the
queen screamed. ‘Because of that pointless feud, she took my only
child from me, and made him cold and rough like her own
heart.’

“
Just then, a little
titmouse perched on the windowsill of the hall where they were
standing. It had heard about the king’s sorrow from the Clouds high
in the sky. The bird had come down because it wanted to help
him.

“
It tweeted to get the
king’s attention and said, ‘Do not be sad, my King, for I have good
news for you. A few days ago, I was in the witch’s castle and saw
your son’s heart. It is alive and beating, but it is still very
small, because there was no human chest in which it could ripen. It
is in a high, remote tower that has neither entrance nor exit. Only
a little window above it illuminates its high pedestal and golden
lid during the day. Spring flowers have grown around it, and birds
gather there to whisper gentle words to it in daytime. And since
that little heart is so kind and good, and full of love, it listens
to every single problem they have and gives them good advice. These
birds love it so much that they would certainly be glad to help
save it from the evil witch. Should there be someone to hold the
heart in their hands, they will manage to carry it out of the
window.’

“
The king was so moved by
this news that he immediately asked the little bird to take him to
the castle of the black witch.

“‘
But we have to be very
careful in order not to wake her up,’ the bird warned the king,
‘because this is the time when she likes to sleep.’

“
The king put on his heavy
armor, said goodbye to his queen, and headed off with the little
titmouse on his shoulder, through boundless frozen lands toward the
castle of the witch…”

When the writer finished reading his
story, I was fast asleep. I woke up when I heard Rosa’s
voice.

“
I like this story,
because in the end the king manages to save his son from the
curse.”

“
That’s right,” her father
agreed. He was looking at her lovingly, while stroking her
forehead. And that inexplicable sorrow emerged from nowhere,
spreading into the room again. It reached me and wafted around, as
if it was a light wind in my chest. Something happened at that
moment—I myself don’t know what, but my heart started bumping so
sadly in my chest that I started crying at once. With my head
lifted up toward the sky I cried selflessly and bitterly, until the
tears wetted my feet and I sank into a little pond of salty water.
Meanwhile, Rosa and Paul, who had heard me crying, started
searching through the books and found me. At that moment they were
looking at me with such an enormous interest that it seemed as if
they wanted to devour me with their eyes. The writer was standing
opposite me, bent over the bookshelf, and Rosa was looking at me
from her bed. I was so embarrassed that I ran to hide as fast as I
could.

“
Don’t be scared,” Paul
tried to calm me down, and stretched out his hand toward me. I
sneaked deeper among the shadows of the books, but he reached to
pet me on my back. I shivered with pleasure when he touched me. The
writer picked me up with one hand under my belly, and carried me to
Rosa’s bed. When she saw me, she was so happy that she started
clapping.

“
This is the loveliest
little mouse I have ever seen.”

I stood and put on an air of
importance. I lifted my head and puffed off my chest.

“
What’s your name?” Rosa
asked.

“
My name is Mercutio,” I
declared proudly, and drew my paw over my longest
whisker.

“
What a grand name for
such a small mouse,” Rosa laughed.

“
I may be small, but my
heart is grand.”

“
That may well be so,” she
smiled at me. “You have beautiful eyes.”

“
Thank you.” I was a bit
embarrassed. “You have beautiful eyes, too. They look like the
chocolate cookies that my mother makes every Saturday
morning.”

Rosa laughed with a jingling, clear
voice. I thought she was the most beautiful princess in the world.
I turned twice around myself and curled up to lie on the pillow
next to her. I yawned. I was so tired I fell asleep immediately.
When I woke up, Rosa was still there.

“
So I wasn’t dreaming,”
was my discovery for the day; or in that case, for the
night.

IV
.

On How I Learned to
Read…

I put my paw on Rosa’s nose to wake
her. She stretched and yawned.

“
Good morning, Mercutio!”
She gave a euphoric cry and briskly rose from her bed. The writer
was just coming into the room.

“
Great! You’re awake. Get
ready for school, your breakfast is waiting.”

Rosa nodded, stood up, and opened the
doors of her little wooden wardrobe. A pile of disorderly clothes
came down and covered her up to her knees.

“
I simply can’t get on
with that wardrobe! So many times I’ve told him to put my clothes
in order, but he refuses to. What a disobedient wardrobe!” she
complained, and suddenly started laughing. I couldn’t see anything
funny in that, because my wardrobe was also of the disobedient kind
and didn’t follow my orders, so I had to fold my clothes by
myself.

“
Mercutio, when I come
back, we’ll play, won’t we?” Rosa turned toward me while she was
trying to pull a dress from the pile of clothes on the floor. “Do
you go to school?”