The Very Little Princess: Rose's Story (6 page)

Again, he stopped.

A late-to-bed robin chirruped outside the window. The robin fell silent, too.

Rose nodded. It was so comforting to know that Sam had felt the same way.

“So,” Sam continued, “the next day I made up with Brian. Then I invited him to come
home with me after school. I wanted to let him see for himself.”

“And did he see?” Rose asked.

Sam shook his head. “When we got back here … there she was. She was sitting on the bed where I'd left her. And she was … nothing. She was just a doll again. You know? It didn't matter how hard I shook her. Or what I said. She wouldn't say a word.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Brian and I had another fight. He told me I was full of it, talking to a stupid doll. I punched him again.”

Rose let out the breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding. “Was that the last time?” she asked. “Not you and Brian. Princess Regina. Did she ever …?”

“Never,” he said. “That was the last time. And after that … not long after that, I guess, I gave her back to Mom. I told her the doll
was nice and all, but I didn't want her. Mom was kind of sad, I could tell, but she took her back. And I never saw her again.”

“Until now,” Rose said.

“Until now,” he agreed. “I even got to thinking I'd dreamed the whole thing. It was so strange. And it lasted such a short time.” He paused to study Regina, then turned his gaze to Rose. “It's really important that nobody knows about this. No other kids, no adults, either. Bad things will happen if people find out … bad things for
her.
” He pointed to the tiny doll.

What kind of bad things?
Rose wondered, but she knew. The world wasn't ready for china dolls that could walk and talk. Certainly the world wasn't ready for a three-and-one-quarter-inch princess!

“What do you think makes her go to sleep
again,” Rose asked, “after she's been awake?”

“I think she likes messing with us,” Sam answered without missing a beat. “I think she's prickly as a porcupine and likes messing with us.”

Rose laughed. That perfectly described what she'd already seen of Regina.

Apparently Princess Regina wasn't equally pleased with the description, though. She pushed herself off the toe of Sam's sneaker and stomped her feet in the carpet. And then, probably because feet that are only a quarter of an inch long make no sound at all when stomped in carpet, she tipped her head back and howled, “I am not prickly!”

Though, of course, you and I know better.

Now, I've never been a three-and-one-quarter-inch doll myself, but I'd guess being prickly would be easy if you were that small.
Think about it. You would be so tiny that people could pick you up and put you down wherever they chose … 
whenever
they chose, too.

Even worse, if they weren't paying close attention, they might not see you at all.

And perhaps that was why Regina needed to be prickly. Folks would be forced to pay attention.

So she stomped her foot in the soft carpet and howled, “I am not prickly!” And then she added, as though it explained everything—and perhaps it did—“I am a princess!”

Into the Green and Blooming Summer

And a princess she remained. But being a princess didn't keep her from having a good time. In fact, Regina couldn't remember ever having as much fun as she had with her new servant, as oddly unreliable as Rose was.

Rose could come up with the most amazing adventures.

One night, as Regina lay on the pillow next to Rose, bored with this silly sleeping business,
she was amazed to see the girl suddenly sit up. Rose studied the fat-faced moon peering through her window. Then she got out of bed, tucked Regina into the elastic of her pajamas, and crawled out her second-floor bedroom window.

Regina closed her eyes as Rose swung from the sill. “Remember,” she cried, “I break!”

But Rose just caught hold of the trellis leaning against the wall and climbed down to the moon-washed grass. Once there, she held the princess high in the air and danced and danced.

When she tried to climb the trellis to go back to her room, though, it broke under her weight. She had to go around to the front porch and ring the bell to get back in.

Rose's dad came to the door looking bed-rumpled and bewildered and even a bit cross. (Her dad was rarely cross.) Still, Rose giggled,
and Regina couldn't help but join in … very quietly.

Rose came up with adventures during the day, too. After school or on weekends, they explored the woods behind Rose's house again and again.

They climbed back into the attic to search for more treasure. (The closest they found to treasure was an old teddy bear, leaking sawdust. Regina was glad when Rose put him back into the trunk. He was awfully big. What if he decided to come awake … and bite?)

They checked out the town, too.

They stopped at the empty school playground. Rose would sit on a swing, wind it up, then let it spin until even Regina was dizzy.

They peered through the windows of the grocery store and the drugstore and Kathi's Kut and Kurl.

But better than anything else were their visits to the hardware store. It wasn't the bins of screws and the cans of paint that drew them. It wasn't even the balls and scooters and dolls that never woke. It was the dollhouse sitting all by itself on a shelf in the back of the store.

The instant she saw it, Regina fell in love. How could she not? Everything about it was sized for her!

Upstairs the house had a bedroom and a bathroom, though, of course, Princess Regina did
not
need a bathroom.

Downstairs held a living room and a kitchen. She didn't
need
a kitchen, either, but Regina rather liked this one anyway.

Rose wouldn't let Regina go inside, though, no matter how much she begged. “Someone might come back here and see you,” she'd whisper. “And then there'd be trouble.”

Regina knew Rose was right, but that didn't keep her from begging again the next time. She had never seen anything more wonderful than that little house, and by rights it should have been hers. She'd certainly not seen any human in town that it would fit. And what good would a little house be to any of those sleeping dolls that sat on the shelves nearby?

They talked about the dollhouse so much that even Sam went with them once to see it.

“If I had that house, I'd be happy forever,” Regina said.

“Would you?” Sam asked, giving her a considering look. “Even if Rose wasn't right there every minute, paying attention?”

“Of course,” the princess said. She tossed her golden hair. “Why would I need Rose if I had my own house?”

But that was the problem. Regina didn't have the little house, and she did need Rose. And while Rose was wondrously fun, she didn't always pay attention. In fact, sometimes she would set Regina down and forget her completely!

Sooner or later Rose always came back, but the princess found the wait annoying … even terrifying. “Someday,” she warned Rose again and again, “you're going to come back and I'll be gone.”

What she meant by
gone
she was never entirely sure. She knew only that what she said was true.

Then came an afternoon when they were sitting on the couch in the living room watching television. Regina didn't know why they were watching television. It was a beautiful blue day outside, and as far as she could tell, Rose wasn't paying any more attention to the TV than she was to her. She just kept flipping channels. She didn't even notice when Regina tumbled off her lap and dropped between the couch cushions.

“Get me out of here!” Regina cried. But
Rose didn't seem to hear her. Maybe Regina's voice was so squashed between the cushions that it couldn't escape.

Or maybe Rose was lost inside herself.

To make matters worse, Hazel called Rose to set the table for dinner. And off she went.

“My servant will come back for me,” Regina promised herself. “She always does.”

Regina was wrong, though. This time Rose didn't come back. Not even after supper.

The house grew heavy with silence. Princess Regina, in the cramped dark between the cushions, grew heavy, too. First her arms, then her legs seemed to fill with lead. If she'd been a breathing creature, she would have been struggling for air in the tight space. Fortunately, china dolls, even walking, talking ones, don't need air. But they need, as we all do, to be noticed.

The silence and dark pressed down on her
like a stone until she was herself a stone. She couldn't have moved or called out if Rose had suddenly plucked her from between the cushions into the bright air.

And that was when she fell into the empty place again.

Into dark silence.

Into nothingness.

Regina woke to find Rose crying all over her again.

“I'm sorry,” Rose kept saying. “I'm really, really sorry. I thought I'd lost you forever. If Sam hadn't found you … I don't know what I would have done. And when he brought you back, you were gone. You were asleep. I was sure you were asleep!” And on and on.

Princess Regina wasn't just furious. She was disgusted. How could this girl be so careless,
so thoughtless, so completely irresponsible?

“Why do I have to wake to such drama?” she asked. “Do you see me crying? And I'm the one who was wronged!”

(I must pause here. If you've read the first Very Little Princess book, you know more about this story than the story knows about itself. Which makes this moment rather awkward. I'll simply have to trust you to stay mum.)

For a while afterward, Rose kept Princess Regina close every moment. She was full of energy. She came up with new and wonderful games like dodge the raindrops. Regina loved that. Of course, she was better at it than Rose. But then, inevitably it seemed, the moment came when her servant forgot once more.

And then she forgot another time