"Charlotte, honey. Come into the living room. Something..." Her mother was unable to finish her sentence. Instead, she looked down to the floor, flooded with emotions.
Charlotte dropped her backpack and it landed with a dull thud onto the carpet in the middle of the floor. She knew it could only be bad news and her heart sank. This was how it began when she first learned that her mother was going to marry Brad. "What?" she demanded, She was a very angry young girl and there was only one thing left in her life that could make her cry.
"It's Arabel—"
"No, Mommy! No!" Charlotte threw herself onto the couch, scrunched over her knees. She wanted to cover her ears and sing, "La la la!" like she did when she didn't want to listen to her mother. Instead, she clenched her fists, her bitten nails digging into her palm, and glared at her mother.
"It's Arabella. I'm so sorry. I found her lying in the road. She'd been hit by a car." Her mother sat in the empty spot at the end of the couch to be there when Charlotte began to cry.
Charlotte didn't cry. "It can't be her! She promised me she would never go into the street! Only out in the yard and the woods. She promised!"
"Char, honey," her mother said in a soothing voice. "It is her. She was wearing her collar." She reached onto the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a pink collar. She held it so the bell tinkled as the bottom end swayed to and fro.
Charlotte jumped up, yelling, "You're lying! It's not her! You've always hated her! She probably ran away from you like Daddy did. No wonder dad ran away from you! You're mean and you don't listen and I hate you!" She took a deep breath to finish. "She promised me and I'm going to find her!"
Charlotte had never met her father. Anna never even told her his name, only that he ran away one day. "From me, not you. He was ready for you. But not me." Anna had cried, leaving Charlotte to ponder if she herself was supposed to be the parent.
Ignoring her backpack still lying in the middle of the floor, she stomped to the backdoor through the kitchen, flung the door open and ran down the tired wooden steps into the backyard.
"Arabella Allebara!" she called, using the cat's full name. When she did this, it meant she was very serious and Arabella should return home at once. There was no response.
She searched under the bushes in the corner of the yard where Arabella sometimes lurked, waiting for mice or birds to pounce on. If she did catch a mouse or a bird, she apologized and set them free again, telling them to be more careful. Charlotte fed her well, but she was a cat and she had to hunt. Hunting with the little bell on her collar made it all the more fun and challenging.
Charlotte looked back over her shoulder to see Anna, her mother, standing at the top of the back stoop with her arms akimbo. Anna wore the concerned look on her face that she used when she didn't know what to do with her wild daughter.
Anna, who was a latch-key kid herself, had raised Charlotte with no family to help. It was a constant financial struggle keeping her clothed in hand-me-downs from neighbors and fed with food scavenged from food banks and the land. Once Charlotte grew old enough to start school, Anna found a decent job. She had fastidiously worked her way up in the company and now was able to work from home when Charlotte was not in school.
With her meager savings and better salary, Anna was able to buy the house for cheap since nobody else wanted it. She didn't understand why. It was a perfectly lovely old saltbox farm house sitting on a small plot of land along a not-too-busy highway a few miles away from the city. Aside from a minor repair here and an update there, it only needed a new coat of paint and a family to live in it to make it into a cozy home.
When Charlotte first arrived at the new house, Arabella was there sitting on the front porch quietly waiting and daintily grooming herself with her forepaws.
"Mew!" Arabella said rather loudly, with a toss of her head, easily catching Charlotte's attention.
"Hello. What's your name?" Charlotte bent down on her knee to put her hand up to make friends and stroke the cat's cheek.
"Meow."
"That's a pretty name. Hi, Arabella. My name is Charlotte. Do you want to be friends?"
The cat purred and rubbed her cheek against Charlotte's hand.
Thus began their gentle friendship and a week-long battle with Anna to keep Arabella and let her into the house. Finally, her mother relented, seeing that Charlotte had someone to keep her company. There were no other children on the nearby farms to play with. The neighbors were older couples whose children had long grown up and moved away.
Anna stepped down the back stairs, sighing heavily and feeling broken. Charlotte finally getting her own room should have released the pressure of their strained relationship. The chaotic one-bedroom apartment they shared previously was a sardine can with the pair constantly bumping into each other like pinballs.
After Charlotte said goodbye to her friends in the apartment building with promises of visits, they moved into the new house, where their relationship only grew worse. She fought with Anna over the tiniest of things. Her mother believed Charlotte made up all the stories she told about the cat. Charlotte related the long conversations she had with Arabella. "I'm telling the truth, Mommy! You don't care about what's true. You just want me to be a good little girl and say what you want to hear." Charlotte's rage grew inside her more every day, festering inside her.
Anna actually liked the cat. Arabella was rather well-mannered, didn't claw the furniture, and did all her important cat business outside. The house didn't smell catty at all. Anna only insisted on belling Arabella so she could be heard in the house. She didn't want to trip over the cat by accident.
Anna was busy lately planning her wedding to her boyfriend, Brad, scheduled for the beginning of summer. It was no longer going to be just her and Charlotte, two lonely people who barely got along. Brad was going to join them in the farm house and help fix it up.
Charlotte never liked Brad and never told her mother why. When she found out she was marrying Brad, that was the final straw. She raged.
Charlotte spent all her free time at home with Arabella. If the weather was nice, they would play in the yard. If it was bad, they would play quietly in their room. She avoided Anna whenever she could.
Charlotte pushed the back gate open and exited onto the field behind their house, allowing the gate to swing back partially on its rusty hinges. She ignored Anna's pleas to return. Instead, before she was caught and dragged back inside, she ran across the field toward the woods. The forbidden woods.
She never understood why Anna wouldn't let her go there. She had sneaked over there many times to wander in, although she was careful to always keep the house in sight. Perhaps Anna knew something that she was not saying, but Charlotte wanted an easy escape. She needed a place of her own. She didn't care what sorts of danger might lurk inside the woods.
"Arabella Allebara!" Charlotte called out, her voice sweeping across the field. She looked directly toward her mother standing at the gate, now looking frantic. Anna was wearing her fancy work dress and shoes and didn't want to ruin them crossing the muddy field.
Charlotte smiled at Anna and stepped into trees.
She continued calling out for Arabella as she moved further into the woods. In her heart, she was dead certain that her friend was alive, a feeling that lived in the back of her consciousness, tucked away out of daily sight. It started at their first meeting and slowly grew until it was a tiny, fragile flame, a flame that now occasionally guttered, but yet burned. Soon, she could no longer see the house and could only catch a glimpse of the field. In a few more steps, she would be further into the woods than she had ever been.
"Arabella Allebara!"
Charlotte was only mildly nervous. "I'm thirteen years old! I'm a grown up." Her voice sounded flat to her ears. The trees absorbed her voice rather than echoing it back like she expected.
"Fine. I'll be thirteen next month."
For an hour, she continued her journey deeper into the woods. She took an inventory of what she carried. "Rats! I forgot my backpack!" It held held her half-eaten lunch along with her stupid school books. In her jacket pockets, she found a single homemade cookie her mother had packed for her lunch. She couldn't remember which day that was. She sniffed the cookie in its plastic sandwich bag and it still smelt like chocolate chips. "It's still good."
There was nothing in her other pockets but a crayon. "Where did this come from?"
"I can live off a cookie for weeks! Arabella!" ~~Okay, maybe a day.~~
"I hate her." Charlotte didn't really hate her mother, but didn't all teenagers hate their parents? "It's so mid in here," she sneered, trying to sound more grown-up, knowing there were no other humans around to hear her,
She became overly warm with walking and unzipped her coat. She listened carefully with her hand up to her ear. There was the buzzing of bees and the tweeting of birds, but she heard no meowing of cats.
Onward, she trudged with tired, rubbery legs. She couldn't let Arabella down. "I'm coming, Arabella."
Charlotte sat down under a tree. Her throat was dry and scratchy from calling out. She encountered no sign of any animal. "I am so noisy, they all ran away from me." She took the cookie from her coat pocket and held it up between her hands. She contemplated whether eating her only cookie was a sensible choice on her search. 'Sensible' was a word her mother often used to explain her choices. She told Charlotte that she should always be sensible, too. "Maybe it will help my throat. But I have no milk."
She clutched the cookie in one hand and it crumbled to pieces in the baggie. Her tears began to flow and she made no effort to stop them, despite her anger. "Arabella, where are you?" she whimpered.
"What's wrong?" came a soft and gentle voice.
Charlotte looked up to see a little faerie not a foot tall standing in front of her. She was dressed in a brown tunic and wore leaves on her feet for shoes and a leaf behind one ear to hold her mouse brown hair back. "Go away." Charlotte returned to her misery compounded by the bits and pieces of cookie jumbled in the bottom of the bag. "I hate you all!"
"I'm sorry your first encounter with us went so very badly. But you can't hate us all." The faerie sat cross-legged on the ground.
"Why not?" Charlotte took out a large piece of cookie, the one with the greatest number of chocolate chips and put it into her mouth.
"Do you hate all humans?"
"Yes! No..."
"Even if you met a really bad human, would you hate them all?"
"No."
"It's the same with us Fae Folk. Some of us are really good. Some of us are really bad. But most of us are in the middle somewhere, struggling." The faerie tilted her head, looking for signs of understanding.
Charlotte took out the next best piece of cookie and ate it, letting the chocolate melt in her mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm being terribly rude." She held out the plastic bag.
"No, but thank you. I don't want to ruin my supper." After a moment's pause, she continued. "Why are you so upset?"
"How come I can see you?"
The faerie laughed. "Once you've seen one of us, you can see all of us. It's the rules."
Charlotte put the bag back into her pocket. "You don't look like a faerie."
More lilting laughter, followed by a rustle of leaves from a gentle breeze. "Not all faeries have wings and wands with little pointed stars at the end. Do all humans look alike?"
"Thank goodness, no. What's wrong with your eye?"
The faerie flinched. "Oh, sure. Make fun of me!"
"I'm not. Sorry for being concerned." Charlotte looked away.
"You really know nothing do you?" Her tone was softer. "It's its turn to rest. I'm taking devilweed for my, uh, affliction."
Charlotte turned back to watch the squinting eye try to open up and fail. "I'm sorry. I really don't know anything about faeries but the stories the other kids at school tell about the woods. What's devilweed do?"
After an agonizing moment the wee faerie replied, "It's to make me grow. I'm the shortest of all the fae in the forest." Her cheeks colored.
"I hadn't noticed." Charlotte had, but she thought faeries came in all sizes. She had seen drawings of pixies who were no larger than wrens. She abruptly changed the topic since her companion looked to be at such unease. "I'm looking for my friend, Arabella. She's a cat."
"Of course she's a cat. What else would she be? She is known to me. I like to think of her as my friend, too. Though she doesn't have much to do with us Fae Folk. I have not seen her today."
"She must be somewhere."
"Of course she's ~~somewhere~~. Otherwise, she'd be nowhere."
Charlotte stood, careful not to kick the faerie in the exhausted climb to her feet. "I think someone took her. She always comes when I call."
"If anybody in the wood catnapped her, it would be the grue. Stanley is a very evil grue." The faerie stepped to one side.
"What's a grue?"
"What's a grue? ~~What's~~ a ~~grue?~~" Her disbelief was genuine. "Even a child of two should know what a grue is," she admonished. "It's one of the very first things I learned. Where do you think the word 'gruesome' comes from?" With her good eye, she glared at Charlotte, who shrugged silently. "Well, they're creatures that hide in the darkness. They feel safe there. They're harmless, unless you wander into ~~their~~ bit of darkness. Then they eat you. They're not bad creatures. It's just what they do. So, we don't wander about aimlessly in the dark. But Stanley. He's awful and mean and evil. He steals lives from cats so he can continue being evil. He even lives in the light so he can do it.
"They have nine lives, you know."
Charlotte nodded absently. She thought about the type of creature who stole from others. Especially one who stole lives. Her anger returned, pushing away her fatigue. "Where can I find this Stanley?" Charlotte demanded. "If he has Arabella, then I must save her!"
The faerie's face fell into a dark pall. "He is far away. It's a dangerous journey and I can only take you to the doorway. I would be in big trouble if I went any further than that."
"Why?"
"It's the rules." The faerie turned and walked away. "Come along. It's not far from here."
Charlotte followed. She no longer knew where she was or how to get home. Since the faerie had short legs, it was slow going. "My name is Charlotte. What's yours?"
"Crystal," she said while looking over her shoulder. "Pleased to meet you and just up past this tree..." She ran and circled around to the left.
Charlotte reached the same place in a few steps and turned. There, in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere, stood a stairway crafted of wood, carefully polished until it shone. It was wide enough for three to climb up side by side. Two grand newels rose at the bottom with handrails running up either side, terminating where the top platform began. She counted thirteen steps to the top. At the top was nothing. "Why is this here?"
"It's a doorway that leads deeper into the wood," Crystal replied. "Most humans are never able to find it, which is probably a good thing. You must climb the staircase and at the top, turn and face back towards me. Up you go!" She waved her hands in an upward arc.
Nervously, Charlotte looked about. She stepped up the first step and stopped. "This is a trick! Just like that other faerie did to me."
"It's okay to be frightened. Going to find Stanley, you ~~should~~ be frightened. I wouldn't trick you about Arabella, though. Like I said, she is my friend and I wish her no harm. If I ever got into a trouble like hers, I wish I had a friend like you to come save me."
Charlotte took each of the next twelve steps up, one at a time. As she rose in height, her pauses grew longer. She looked about, waiting for something bad to happen, but nothing did.
"I wish you great Good Luck!" Crystal called up. She didn't finish her speech with "You'll need it" like she wanted to. She bit her tongue and only thought it.
At the top, Charlotte stood and carefully turned to face Crystal who stood at the bottom. "What now?"
"Stretch your arms all the way out to the sides, close your eyes and fall backwards."
"I knew it!" Charlotte's eyes flashed with anger. "It's a trick!"
"It's not a trick. Falling backward is the only way forward if you want to save Arabella. Please don't waste any more precious time. Go!"
Charlotte closed her eyes and pictured her friend in her mind. Arabella was smaller than other cats with a longer tail that whipped about when her moods changed. Her eyes were huge black pupils centered in golden fields. How Charlotte missed looking into those eye and seeing Arabella's love being reflected back! Her fur was a slate-blue color, more blue than gray. Her mother explained that the cat's breed was Russian Blue and she had never seen one so blue. "That makes her special, right?" Her mother had nodded in agreement.
Crystal waved goodbye.
She swallowed hard and gritted her teeth. "I'm coming!" With those words, Charlotte altered her balance and her body slowly tilted backwards. At the tipping point, she let herself fall free, scrunching her eyes tightly, waiting to land on the ground with the thud she knew was coming.
As she fell, a bright light flared behind her eyelids. It was not blinding. She immediately felt she had passed through a doorway, although she didn't see it. The wind whistled a simple tune in her ears. She hummed along since it was the prettiest song she had ever heard. When the song was done, she lay flat upon her back.
The pile of leaves broke Charlotte's fall as she landed more gently than she thought possible on the floor of the woods. Leaves flew up and away, swirling around in magical patterns. She opened her eyes and watched them float down onto her, playing in the sunlight. "That was almost fun."
She stood up and surveyed the surroundings. The staircase was gone, as was Crystal. She absently brushed away the debris from her clothes and picked stray leaves from her hair, considering her next move.
The woods looked the same, but felt different. Charlotte dismissed this thought as 'pure fantasy', as her mother would say. "I must pay attention."
There was but one path away from the little clearing.
"Arabella Allebara!" She heard no reply.
She ambled down the path, which soon looked less like a path. She occasionally called out. Her legs grew tired again, making it difficult to navigate. Twigs from low-hanging branches began to grab at her hair. The canopy grew more lush. blocking more of the sunlight. The birdsong changed from the part of the woods where she started. There, it was simple and free. Here, the birds told stories and warned others off Charlotte's presence.
Just when she thought it might be a sensible idea to be frightened, she encountered a hut in a little clearing. Smoke rose from a stone chimney. A woman's voice flowed from inside, but Charlotte couldn't make out any of the words.
She needed a rest and some water to help wash down her cookie, so she knocked three times upon the door. The voice inside stopped, the birdsong stopped, and the door to the peephole opened. A green eye appeared and stared directly at Charlotte. The eye was then gone and peephole shut again, followed by bumps and clatters and thuds. Finally, the door opened.
"Oh, look! Guests!" The woman at the door had the same green eye, although her other eye was Arabella blue. Wisps of her red hair, frizzy with labor, escaped from the bun she tied it in atop her head. She wore a stained smock over a long skirt.
"I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am, but I'm—" Charlotte had to stop and think of the word she sought. "I'm on a quest to find my friend, Arabella."
"A quest! Oh, how wonderful my quest was!" She clapped her hands together with glee. "You better come in. Sadly, I don't see many questants anymore." She stood aside and ushered Charlotte in.
"I didn't know there were people who lived in the woods." Charlotte stood in the middle of the room, astonished by the thousands of things it contained. Bundles of plant cuttings nailed to the beams hung upside-down, to dry. The fire set in the fireplace licked at the stones. A kettle, which hung from a spit supported by two fire-dogs, shaped like spaniels, bubbled over the fire. A long table with shelves overhead filled with hundreds of small jars and bottles lined the back of the hut from one side to the other.
"I'm not a people, I'm a Witch! My name is Ursula." The witch held out her hand.
Charlotte only now grew a bit afraid. Witches were never nice in the stories she read. She shook the hand on offer. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. I'm Charlotte. There are so many things in here. Where do you sleep?"
Ursula pointed upwards to a platform high above her table, built into the rafters. "So, what sort of quest are you on? This is so exciting!" She rubbed her hands together and stepped around the room randomly, searching for something. Finally, her eyes lit upon a bottle filled with yellow liquid. She picked it up and, after dusting it off with her palm, read the label. "You can never be too sure," she said with a wink. "Lemonade? I make it myself!" From another shelf, she took down two long-stemmed glasses and filled them halfway. She offered the glass in her left hand to Charlotte while she took a big sip from the glass in her right. "Please! Drink! You must be thirsty. Questants are always hungry and thirsty."
Charlotte took the glass and put it up to her nose. It smelt of lemons. She put it to her lips and took the tiniest sip she could manage to be polite. Lemon flavor flooded her mouth. It was not too bitter and not too sweet. When her tongue ceased to tingle, she replied, "I'm going to save my friend Arabella. She's a cat."
"Of course she's a cat! What else would she be?" Ursula raised her almost empty glass and twirled about, her skirts billowing out. "She's familiar to me. Since she ~~is~~ a cat, then there's only one being in the entirety of the wood who would catnap her. Stanley!" She spat on the floor. "Puh! I detest him!" She bent over and glared at Charlotte straight in the eye. She saw no hint of a lie in what had Charlotte said. "Then it's settled. I will help you on your little quest. Anything to annoy that pipsqueak. Stanley. Ugh." She shook her body from head to toe in disgust. "Drink up." She blithely drank the dregs in her glass and Charlotte finished hers in one go, praying her tongue didn't go permanently numb.
Ursula took the glasses and returned them to an empty spot different from their original location. "But there's one thing I will require in trade for my help. A small, teeny-tiny price to pay." She studied the little girl with an arm across her chest and the other hand under her chin. Then, that hand spiraled outward until the index finger pointed at the barrette in Charlotte's hair.
Charlotte didn't need the barrette to hold her hair, but it was her favorite and she loved to wear it to show it off. It was a plastic butterfly with glittery blue and purple wings and pink eyes. It was cheap, but she had picked it out at the store and her mother, who usually said no to such frivolities, bought it for her. Before she could even think of unclipping it to surrender it, Ursula's hand snatched it from her head. Charlotte's hand flew up. Ursula had opened the clip, pulled it away and closed the clip again all in one single motion, too swiftly for the non-magical eye to see. All without disturbing a hair.
Ursula admired the barrette, "Such a pretty little thing," she said, looking at Charlotte. "I don't see many pretty things anymore." With a roll of her wrist, the butterfly was gone, her empty palm held out for Charlotte to see. "Now! Let's see. A quest ~~always~~ requires three gifts. Otherwise, it's not a proper quest!" She scanned her shelves and after a few seconds, plucked a glass flask with a stopper off a shelf. She held it up to show it off. "Now, pay close attention. I can only explain these gifts to you once." She peered through the bright pink liquid inside. "Them's the rules." She handed it over.
Charlotte turned it around in her hands. It was shaped like the ones in her science class, only much smaller. She looked through the liquid and Ursula took on a pretty pink hue.
"That one is for Strength. You must drink it. Be sure the stopper is in tight before you put it in your pocket. It would be tragic if you spilled any of these." She mugged a sad face.
Charlotte did as was requested while Ursula turned her attentions back to the riot of glass upon the shelves.
Ursula chose a little clear glass orb with a crystal stopper in the shape of a little cross. She cradled it in her hands and sighed. "Look at this beauty! I love the shape of it. 'Tis a shame, though. This one must be thrown and the bottle smashed to bits! Do ~~not~~ drink it." She handed it over.
"What does it do?" The orb was filled with purple liquid that was thick and didn't slosh about. It merely crept along the inner surface of the crystal with no purpose.
"What does it do? Why, it does— something. I know! It makes the most glorious stench!" Ursula looked upwards in reverence, batting her lashes and holding her clasped hands beneath her chin. "It is truly nasty."
Charlotte pushed the stopper in as tightly as she could before stowing it with the first potion in her jacket pocket. By the time she looked up, Ursula had the final phial, a perfume bottle, in her hands, holding it out in front of her.
"The final potion. For the life of me, I can't remember what it does. But I do remember this: it cannot be taken, only given. Repeat that back to me."
Charlotte took the bottle filled with shiny black, like liquid obsidian.
"I said, repeat it back to me!"
Charlotte startled and she stuffed the phial into her left coat pocket. "It cannot be taken, only given."
Ursula's sweet demeanor returned. "Very good, Charlotte. Now, take some stew. You will need to keep up your energy if you are going to complete your quest."
Two bowls of venison stew later, Charlotte held up her hands in defeat. "Please, Miss Ursula, I'm stuffed! I can't eat anymore."
"Excellent, my child. In a few minutes, you will need to continue your quest. I will point you in the right direction. The little path you take will lead to a wider path."
Minutes later, Ursula shoved Charlotte out the door with a wicked laugh. "Now, go! And I wish you great Good Luck." She muttered: "That Stanley... He deserves so much worse than a twelve year-old girl."
Charlotte waved back. "Thank you, Miss Ursula! Bye!" She headed down to where Ursula had pointed. It was barely a path at all, but she pushed on, fortified by lemonade and venison stew.
The woods were no darker than when Charlotte entered Ursula's hut. The sunlight had not faded, nor had the sun moved. Anna wouldn't let her have a cell phone and she didn't like to wear a watch. The other kids at school already teased her enough about her lack of phone. She had no idea how many hours had passed since she arrived home from school.
"I'm so lost! If I had no idea of how to get home before, now I ~~really~~ have no idea," she said to the trees dejectedly. For the first time since she entered the woods, she was not filled with anger. She was, however, filled with worry for Arabella to where her stomach ached. She called out for her once and received no reply.
The little path opened up onto a much wider and well-traveled path as Ursula had said. Charlotte breathed in fully, free from the oppressive trees, and looked both ways. They looked the same: a straight, narrow path lined with trees on either side. "Darn it! She didn't tell me which way to go once I got here."
She contemplated whether flipping a coin was a sensible choice for a quest. She lamented that she she carried no coins in her pockets.
Charlotte felt, more than heard, the beating of tiny wings in her ear. She swatted with her hand, but it brushed nothing but her ear.
When she looked up again, directly in front of her eyes hovered a butterfly. A butterfly with glittery blue and purple wings and little pink eyes, flapping away like a hummingbird. It didn't dart about, though. It bounced up and down, like it was held up by a string, to get her attention.
"Hello." Charlotte squinted at the butterfly to see if it was her barrette. ~~It looks exactly the same!~~
The butterfly dipped in towards her, performing a little loop, making her flinch backwards, and it dipped back, answering Charlotte's greeting in kind. It then turned about and bounced a bit forward.
"You want me to follow you?"
The butterfly bounced up and down with another loop before fluttering off to the left. While it could reach a greater speed, it limited itself to Charlotte's pace.
Charlotte followed. Squeak, squeak, squeak! went her shoes. "What?" She glared down with annoyance at her feet. She was happy with these shoes because they allowed her to creep in and out of the house without Anna knowing. She had purposely ruined her previous two pairs so she could get new, ~~quieter~~ shoes. It was with— ~~How did Crystal and Ursula put it?~~ —with great Good Luck that her mother bought these cheap shoes for her. "This is your last pair!" Anna had rebuked harshly. "You better not ruin them."
"That mean witch! Not only did she steal my favorite barrette, she also stole the silence from my shoes! Ugh!"
To help her ignore the squeak, squeak, squeak of her noisy shoes, she hummed loudly. After maybe five minutes, the butterfly veered off into the trees. There was no path here, but the floor of the woods was empty of brush and other greenery. "These trees sure don't like to share their part of the woods."
Just as Charlotte reached the end of her tune, a hill came into view. It was not a huge hill, it was more of a rocky outcropping and the trees dared not grow close to it.
The butterfly stopped in front of the mouth of a cave. It bounced up and down, performing several loop-the-loops to let her know she had arrived. It then flew away.
The cave mouth was large enough for Charlotte to walk into without crouching down. Out of it escaped the soft sounds of snoring. This made Charlotte curious and she went inside.
"Surely, that butterfly wanted me to go in." The cave floor was dirt, an accumulation of years of traffic. This made the going easy. "This seems like a nice sort of cave. Dry and roomy. Not all icky, damp, and full of bats, I wonder what sort of person sleeps in a cave."
"Squeak, squeak, squeak!" her shoes replied. She tried to tip-toe, but squeaks still echoed off the cave walls to compete with the snoring. She followed that sound, which grew with each step. When she came to a fork, she carefully listened to each direction. The snoring originated from the left fork. She came to second fork and the snoring came from the left fork again.
The sunlight grew dimmer the further she went. She contemplated whether going back was a sensible choice for a quest, but the snoring was quite loud now.
She took three more squeaky steps, expecting to find a bed with a sleeping person in it. Instead, it was a great, furry lump lying upon the ground against the far wall, growing and shrinking with each snore.
"Hm?" the lump rumbled. "Is it Spring?" the lump grumbled. A head popped up and looked about.
Charlotte and her squeaky shoes had woken a sleeping bear, deep in hibernation.
The bear yawned and smacked its lips as it lumbered to its feet. "I'm still so tired! It cannot be Spring yet," the bear rumbled. It looked about some more and saw Charlotte. "Who are you? You've woken me," he grumbled. "So tired." He yawned again, baring giant teeth and a long, red tongue.
~~Teeth probably made for eating little girls,~~ popped into Charlotte's head, bringing her no comfort.
The bear sighed and moved towards Charlotte. This was the first time on her quest that she was truly filled with fright. She stepped back and bumped against the cave wall.
After two steps, the bear roared feebly. "I'm too tired to eat you now. Remind me to eat you later when I wake up." However, the bear didn't lie back down, but stared at Charlotte, absently licking its chops and sniffing at his lunch.
Charlotte knew nothing of bears, but this one was many times her size and weight. She watched in horror as it sleepily reared up on his hind legs. His head brushed against the ceiling as he planted his back paws firmly upon the ground with two ominous thuds. She cowered down.
"Raaawwr!" he roared with more gusto than his previous roar.
~~How do I put a bear who wants to eat me to sleep?~~ "Mr. Bear, I'm so sorry I woke you from your nap. Let me sing you a lullaby. It will help you get back to sleep. I promise I'll still be here when Spring comes. You can eat me then." She crossed her fingers behind her back.
Her grandmother, her mother's mother, had taught her that trick. She said it made the lie harmless and it should only be used when being polite. Charlotte crossed her fingers more times than she could count on both fingers and toes and sometimes, late at night, she felt a bit guilty about her little white lies that were growing in size and losing their whiteness each day.
Her mind raced, trying to remember something—anything!—her mother used to sing to her when they shared the one bedroom in their old apartment. She was so terrified that all her memories of her mother fled.
Instead, using the tune she had heard while falling backward from the staircase into the wind and then hummed along the way to the cave, she sang words as they came to her in her panic. Uncertainly, with feeling, she sang: "Go to sleep, Mr. Bear. Like you have no more cares. You will soon be with the dream time bears. "
The bear yawned again and returned to all four feet. "That's nice," he purred. "But I'll surely eat you when I awaken in Spring."
"I'm not lunch. Please don't munch."
A furry, brown lump now lay on the floor, making little noises of appreciation.
"I'm not lunch. Please don't munch—"
The bear smacked its lips again and began snoring.
"—me..." Charlotte put her hand across her rapidly-beating heart and breathed a deep sigh of relief. She slid down against the wall until she sat on the dirt. She untied her shoes and slipped them off. With a shoe in each hand, she stood and peered about.
~~Why did that butterfly bring me here?~~
And there, behind the sleeping bear, in the almost darkness, she could just make out a little door that had been hidden until the bear moved. Cautiously, she tiptoed the long way around the furry, snoring lump, remaining as far away as the cave walls allowed her.
It was a wooden door barely as tall as her and it looked like it belonged in a castle and not in the back of a dark cave. She tried the knob on the door. It opened soundlessly and Charlotte slipped through, carefully pulling it shut behind her. "Sleep well, Mr. Bear. I hope you don't go hungry when Spring comes."
"The light here is very strange." It was neither the light of day she had come from, nor was it the light of night under a full moon. It was steady and even, a light without warmth, like some blend of the two.
Charlotte sat upon a nearby boulder and put on her shoes, lacing them tightly. She bounced up and down to test the squeak.
"They're quiet again!"
"What are quiet again?" It was a male voice.
Birds circled around above their heads. "quietagainquietagainquiet..." they twittered over and over, a cacophony of screechy voices.
Charlotte looked overhead, more interested in the birds darting about. "What are they?"
"whataretheywhataretheywhat..." they chattered over and over.
"They're swifts. Not very bright, I'm afraid, but great at delivering short messages." The faerie was of Charlotte's rough height, dressed in green and brown. Pointed ears stuck out of his head, cleverly avoiding any hair that might try to cover them up. He carried a sheet of paper in his hand.
"shortmessagesshortmessagesshort..."
"Annoying, aren't they? I'm Clew, as in 'haven't got a...'" He swept down in a polite bow. "And you are?"
"andyouareandyouareand..."
Charlotte knew a lady should curtsey back, but she didn't know what one looked like. She had only read about them in old books. She offered her hand. "I'm Charlotte. What is this place? Why is the light so funny?"
"sofunnysofunnysofunny..."
"This place has no name, really. We only know it by the permanent solar eclipse."
"Eclipse?"
"eeklipseeklipseek.."
"When the sun hides behind the moon. Or, perhaps the moon stands in front of the sun, blocking his light because she's angry at him. Nobody's sure which it is. Maybe they are in cahoots together!" Clew looked up with admiration. The canopy of the trees covered the sky fully with no visible blue. "You'd have to climb the tallest tree to get above to see it. But I wouldn't recommend it. I'm afraid of heights."
"afraidofheaightsafraidofheightsafraid..."
"How long does it last?" Charlotte tried to see what Clew was looking at, but it all looked the same to her. Branches and leaves.
"Nobody knows. It was here when I got here. It will be here when I'm gone."
"whenImgonewhenimgonewhen..."
"Can't you make those birds go away?" Charlotte bristled. "Once or twice is cute, now they're just annoying."
"annoyingannoyingannoying..."
"'Fraid not. I would need to give them a message to send, but I have no message." Clew's shoulders slumped. He was as even more tired of them than she was.
"I have a message. How do I give it?"
"Just address them as the Speedy Swifts, give them the name of the recipient first then the message."
"Oh, Speedy Swifts!" she intoned, watching overhead. "Do you know Arabella?"
"knowknowknow..."
"They mean 'no'" Clew needlessly explained.
"Speedy Swifts, do you know Stanley?"
Clew grimaced at hearing the name.
"knowstanleyknowstanleyknow..."
"Tell Stanley 'I'm coming'."
"imcomingimcomingim..." As they repeated their message for anybody to hear, they formed a circle, spinning about. When the lead bird peeled away, the others followed and the circle unraveled into an arrow shape that rose into the sky and disappeared above the canopy. Their message slowly faded.
Clew began to tear up. "Thank you!" He dropped to his knees. "I have no friends to send messages to."
"Who sent you a message? Family?"
"No family, either. I think somebody wanted to get rid of them and thought they'd be better off if the swifts annoyed me instead."
"I'm sorry. What a mean prank! Well, you have a friend now." Charlotte stuck out her hand again, this time to help pull Clew up. "I always have messages to send. What's in your hand?"
Clew brushed the debris from the knees of his breeches. "A map. I made it to find my way out of here, but it's all wrong. And I have nothing to draw with."
"I have a crayon!" Charlotte fished around in her pocket and found it hiding below the black phial. "Here!"
"It's the perfect color of green! When it's done, then I can find another way out of here." Clew happily accepted it and set to drawing in trees on his map. "I have no clue what friends do."
"They help each other."
"You've helped me. Twice! How do I help you?"
"I need information. I don't know how long I've been awake in here. In these woods. Or, how to get out."
Clew pointed. "There's a door behind you. Careful not to wake Wilfred, or he'll eat you."
"I just came through there. He was definitely not happy that I woke him. I'm on a quest and need to find Stanley."
"I'll take you to the next door then. It's on the way to the grue's house." He headed off away from Wilfred's door. "Come!"
Charlotte followed. ~~I sure do follow a lot. When do I get to lead?~~ "How many doors are there?"
"It depends. How determined are you?"
"I'm very determined. I have to rescue my friend, Arabella. She's a cat."
"Of course she's a cat. What else would she be? Well, the more determined you are on a quest, the more doors there are."
"That's not—" A number of complaints formed in Charlotte's head all at once, leaving her unable to choose only one.
"That's not fair? It makes no sense? How very strange?" Clew stopped walking. "I don't make the rules," he commiserated with a shrug and palms stretched outward.
"I know, I know."
Clew and Charlotte marched on in the preternatural light until they stood before a giant boulder twice their height.
"The door is here, behind this rock." Clew stepped out of the way.
"What?" Charlotte's anger flared. She walked around the boulder, but on either side, there was only an inch of room to get through. "Why is this here?"
"The King put it there to keep the grue out of his lands."
"Maybe we can push it?"
"I doubt it. It took twenty of his strongest men, pushing and shoving with all of their might, to put it there. And don't think of climbing the walls. They are climb-proof."
Charlotte was not deterred. "Where is this King? What if his people want to leave?"
Clew merely shrugged again and motioned for Charlotte to follow.
The King held court in a clearing in the center of his lands. He was an older faerie, still strong, with streaks of gray in his beard. He sat upon a wooden throne woven of living branches with his Queen seated in a similar chair upon his right. Courtiers gathered in bunches forming a crescent shape in the clearing. A line of those who wished an audience with the King formed in the center.
Charlotte joined the back of the line, pulling Clew to stand with her. Clew whispered 'please, no' in quiet desperation.
"Don't be a 'fraidy-cat, Clew! What's the worst the King can do?" Charlotte spoke a bit too loudly and a gasp spread out through the crowd as the King stood from his throne and pounded his scepter thrice upon the ground, Thud, thud, thud!
"Who spoke?" The king looked out over the crowd as those in line ahead of Charlotte sidled away, their heads bowed down.
"You, human girl!" The King pointed directly at Charlotte.
Defiantly, Charlotte took three steps forward, the cringing Clew in tow.
"Your Highness—"
Clew let out a squeak of horror. "Your Majesty, your Majesty. You must address him as 'Your Majesty'!"
Charlotte began again. "Your Majesty. I am on a quest to rescue my friend from Stanley. I have come to request that you move that rock and let me through."
"Curtsey, curtsey!" Clew hissed.
Still unsure of herself, Charlotte stood strong and looked the King in the eye like she wanted to spit into it.
"You have spirit, human child. It will serve you well on your quest." He paused in thought for only a second before delivering his decree. "I cannot move the Great Boulder of Safety. It was put there to keep my people safe from the evil grue. If I move it to allow you passage out, what will slip in unnoticed? Perhaps his evil minion. Perhaps the evil grue, himself: Stanley!"
Murmurs and cries of terror from the crowd rose.
"Please no!"
"Your Majesty, you cannot!"
"I'm afraid of grues. That is why I moved here."
Thud, thud, thud, went the staff. "You must find another way, human child. This is my pronouncement."
"Please, your Majesty!" Charlotte pleaded. "He has Arabella!"
"Begone! Cats do not concern me! Begone!" the King roared.
Anybody who was not previously looking at Charlotte now stared at her with piercing eyes.
Clew pulled at her jacket. "Come, come! We must leave now. His Majesty is angry."
"Cowards," Charlotte spat. She pulled her jacket out of Clew's hand.
Reluctantly, she turned and followed Clew back to the boulder. She sat on the ground, leaning against the climb-proof stone wall which towered twenty feet in the air. "Darn it! Always silly rules." ~~I'm coming, Arabella.~~
Clew sat beside her. "I'm sorry. It's not grues I'm afraid of. It's Kings. They terrify me."
"It's okay. I'm afraid of spiders. Even when they're just doing their job." Charlotte put her head into her hands and contemplated whether crying was a sensible choice for a quest or not.
"If we only had a Strength potion," Clew whined.
Charlotte's head popped up and she struck it several times with her hand. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"
"What?" Clew was ready for tears himself.
"Me, not you!" She reached into her pocket and pulled out the pink flask. "I was so mad about my squeaky shoes and the King, I completely forgot! Look! A Strength potion!"
"This is marvelous news!" Clew jumped up and held his hands down to pull Charlotte up. "I doubt my map is going to work. I was waiting for Wilfred to wake up to get out of here, but now we can get out through the arch! I must get back to my dewdrops."
Charlotte twisted the stopper until the seal broke and it came free. "I think she said to drink this one." Without hesitation, she swallowed half the bottle before passing it to Clew. "Finish it."
Clew swallowed the last swallow and looked to Charlotte. "Do you feel any different?"
"I think I feel some tingling in my toes. But, no, not really. Maybe Ursula gave me a bad potion."
"Nah. She's the real deal and the best customer for my dewdrops. Let's give it a try. Help me push this boulder away."
They stood, feet firmly planted, a step away from the rock and put their hands out against it, leaning forward.
"On the count of three. One!" Clew began.
"Two!" Charlotte chimed in.
"Three!" Clew yelled as he pushed with ever fiber of his being.
Charlotte also pushed, and just when it seemed like the boulder wouldn't budge, it budged. With two more pushes, they slid the boulder far enough away to squeeze through the archway and leave behind the land of 'Eek-lips', as the swifts called it.
Clew cautiously hugged Charlotte as he couldn't remember the mechanics of it. He didn't recall ~~ever~~ being hugged before. "I have to run before my dewdrops are dried up and ruined. Come visit me! Ursula can show you the way!" He waved behind him, calling out, "I wish you great Good Luck!" He hurried off up the small path that ran along the side of the King's wall. Charlotte set her sights on the wider path that led straight away from the arch, ever further into the woods.
The sun was back in the sky, shining brightly, no longer locked in its dance with the pale moon. Snow covered the landscape with piles of it neatly lining the pathway. The air was not chilly like a winter's day, but cool like a summer's eve.
"This place is so strange. The woods back home are nowhere as huge as this." She shrugged and soldiered on.
Between Ursula's stew and her Strength potion, Charlotte didn't feel the slightest pang of hunger, nor thirst. She didn't even feel sleepy, although surely, it was long past her bedtime. She still had the last crumbs of her cookie in her pocket if she got desperate.
"Apple?" The old woman held out a shiny, red apple. She wore a red cloak and carried a woven reed basket filled with shiny, red apples on her arm.
"Oh, no thank you. I'm not hungry," was Charlotte's polite reply.
"Take it. It's a long road ahead."
Charlotte was wary, but didn't let on. "I have no more room in my pockets. They are full of cookies."
"Pity," the old woman cackled. "Perhaps you'd walk with an old woman, then. It gets lonely, sometimes. Such is the life of an apple-polisher."
"Of course. An apple-polisher? There's money in that?"
"Oh, no. The Fae don't use money. We mostly trade. I bring joy with my apples, but I trade news and information since I wander all over these woods."
"What is up with this snow? Why doesn't it melt?"
"The snow is always here. It never melts. It just gets piled into piles when it falls upon the path. Now, tell this old woman why a human girl-child is so deep in the woods. I am dying of curiosity!"
Charlotte took half-steps so the woman was able to keep up. "I'm Charlotte and I'm on a quest."
"I'm Kay. A questant! We see so few in the woods anymore. It's so sad. Some say the woods are in danger of dying. It all depends on what the humans do..." Her voice trailed off in despair. She pursed her lips and rallied her determination. "But a quest! That must be fun and exciting! Mine certainly was when I took it up. I doubt I was any older than you. I had to go into the human world. That was scary. Humans are so bellicose, fighting each other over the silliest of things.. But tell me of yours."
"I think Stanley took my friend, Arabella."
"She's that lovely blue cat who sometimes visits the woods, isn't she? I'm familiar with her from the titbits I've heard. I've never met her. But then, cats don't eat apples."
Charlotte giggled. She felt more comfortable now, although she was still wary of the very shiny, red apples. "I suppose not."
"Stanley's a mean ol' grue. Ever since he gave up his darkness, the whole wood has been sent into chaos." She gestured at the snow. "You came from the Eclipse?"
"Yeah." After some time, "Where is the next door?"
"Oh, there is no door. The snow just stops and then the ground grows things again." The woman stopped to stretch. Her bones made a grinding sound. "Ah, my poor bones! They will be flour soon at this rate. Such is the life of an old woman."
"How old are you? If that's not rude to ask."
"No, not at all. I've lost track, but surely I am more than a hundred years old. Are you sure you do not want an apple?"
"Quite sure, ma'am." Charlotte grew more nervous with each offer of an apple. "In fact, I do not really care for them. I prefer blueberries," she lied, holding her crossed fingers behind her back.
Kay saw through her deception, but only chuckled. She had told some whoppers in her lifetime without even crossing her fingers. "They are sadly too small and squishy-squashy to polish. Although they could do with a good one!"
"Maybe I can take it up as a career. But I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. There's probably something I'd be better at..." She couldn't think of anything she wanted to be.
"Don't worry, Charlotte. There's plenty of time. There's always plenty of time. As long as you do what pleases you and enjoy it, you won't go wrong. Tell me more about Arabella."
"Miss Kay, I'm ever so worried about her. She's my best friend! She loves me and never taunts or teases me like the kids at school. She hangs out with me all the time when I'm home. She even sleeps on the foot of my bed, on a warm little blanket my mother put there. Just for her. How far is it to the next place? Away from the snow."
"We're almost there." She pointed her wrinkled finger ahead. "You can almost see it."
Charlotte could indeed see a sharp line where the snow stopped and the ground was verdant.
Just two steps before the line, Kay grabbed hold of Charlotte's wrist. "Are you sure you don't want an apple? These are very sweet and juicy!" She held up an apple with her free hand, brandishing it in Charlotte's face.
"Miss Kay! What are you doing? Let me go!" She pulled her arm, but the witch's grip was too strong.
"You asked about the door. I ~~am~~ the door and it's been quite a long time since someone has refused my apples so easily. What is your secret? Tell me! I must know before my reputation is ruined." Kay stood up straight until she reached her full height. Her skin unwrinkled and her hair ungrayed. Her eyes shone with a frightful beauty.
"Every kid knows not to take poison apples from an old woman. Now, let go of my wrist." She grabbed her arm with her other hand and pulled so hard, using the last of the Strength potion in her blood, that she tripped over backwards and landed with a crunch into a snowbank. Kay's apple dropped onto the path with a little thud.
"My apples are not poison, dear girl!" Kay laughed wickedly. "They only make you feel better. You will forget about everything that worries you and keeps you awake at night." Kay's new voice matched her new young and beautiful form. "Now, eat one! It pains me to see you suffer so."
Charlotte got to her feet. "No! Arabella needs me!"
Kay laughed heartily as she watched Charlotte, with both fists up ready for another scuffle, back her way down the path until she crossed the line. "Farewell, dear Charlotte! You've done well so far on your quest. I'm sorry I'm like this, but I don't make the rules." She waved. "I wish you great Good Luck!"
Kay turned and walked back the way they had come. She muttered to herself, "I miss the days when I could just turn them into pigs." As she disappeared from view, her form hunched over again and she put up her hood to cover her gray hair.
To her side, a brownie raked out the hole where Charlotte fell into the snow. "Humans!" the it muttered repeatedly, with distaste, while it went about its work. When it was satisfied, it turned to face Charlotte and snapped, "Try not to be so clumsy! Oaf!" It picked up the fallen apple and took a bite from it before vanishing.
Charlotte could only watch with her mouth hanging open. The brownie looked very much like the one she had seen the first time she saw the Fae Folk. And it seemed just as cruel. "Are ~~all~~ brownies that rude and mean?"
She shrugged like Clew and managed a laugh before waving it off. She turned to study this new area and wondered what challenges it might bring.
"Finally, a normal, nice place." Charlotte admired the trees. They were evergreens, unlike the rest of the woods, which consisted of deciduous trees of many varieties. Beneath them, ferns and bushes dotted the landscape. "But it's out of place. Did Stanley cause all this? The eclipse? The snow?"
Flat stone lined the path, carefully set so a traveler wouldn't trip over the seams. Absent from the stones was any dirt or pine needles or any other debris Charlotte expected to find in a wood. "It's like they sweep every day!" This path curved through the trees, rising and falling gently with each few steps. It was laid out without cutting down trees or leveling the earth.
She strode with purpose at a good clip, hoping to make up the time she lost walking with Kay. "Arabella Allebara!" She didn't expect a reply, but she hoped that Arabella might hear her if she was close enough. "I'm coming!" Maybe Stanley would hear that and be afraid.
Charlotte's legs began to ache and tire. "The potion has fully worn off. I wish I had more." She found a patch of grass to one side of the path where she could sit. "My poor feet." She unlaced her shoes and took them off so she could massage her stocking feet.
"Halt!" demanded a voice.
"I'm not moving!" Charlotte looked about.
"Trying to disguise yourself with the smell of dirty socks. That's a good ploy, but I have discovered you in time!" A faerie stepped out from behind a tree. His left hand gripped a spear that was as tall as himself and ended in a sharp, pointy blade lashed on with kitchen twine. His black hair poked out from beneath his metal helm. His red tunic covered the chain-mail he wore.
"I don't understand."
The faerie put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle that pierced Charlotte's ears.
She clapped her hands over her ears, crying out. "Ow! That hurts!"
The whistle stopped and the woods were silent again. "You are under arrest. Now, put on your shoes and come quietly." He pointed the spear at her.
Charlotte did as she was told. She didn't want to find out how sharp the spear really was. "I really don't understand. What did I do wrong?"
The bushes rustled and five more fae appeared, similarly dressed and armed.
"Excellent catch, Milton!" one said. "Trying to sneak through our lands."
"I wasn't sneaking. I'm heading to find Stanley and save Arabella from him."
"Likely story, Miss," Milton mocked. "Now come along. I hereby arrest you under the FAF Act."
"FAF? I'm so confused. I've done nothing. I swear." Charlotte stepped out onto the path and all of the spears were now pointed at her.
"Faeries Against Flowers," a third one of them explained. "We hate them and don't allow them in our territory."
"Why do you hate flowers so much?"
One growled, "They're ugly and smell bad!"
Another stated, "We were born that way!"
Charlotte scratched her head. "But I'm not a flower. I don't have any flowers on me." She didn't mention her potions or her crumbled cookie, but she couldn't recall if any of them had a floral scent. ~~Maybe they have better noses than I do?~~
"Feigning ignorance will not save you. Human girl-children smell like chrysanthemums." Milton jabbed his spear closer to her. "Now get moving!"
"What? I can't even say 'Chris and the Mums'! See? I said it wrong."
"Sorry, miss. These are the rules," came a voice behind her.
"Which way?" Charlotte asked.
Milton pointed the direction she was already headed.
While she walked under forced march, the faeries surrounded her, some having to move backwards or at strange angles to keep her under guard. The faerie who shambled along was too small for his uniform continually tripped, almost falling.
"What's going to happen to me?"
"It's up to the Captain. He'll know what to do." Milton's tone carried a slight sense of dread with it, leaving Charlotte fearing the worst.
"I'm just passing through. Can't you just escort me to the next door?"
"Door? Are you on a quest?" Milton asked with interest.
"Yes! Please! I'm trying to save my friend Arabella. She's a cat."
"Of course she's a cat."
"What else would she be?"
Charlotte looked about to see who had spoken.
With a heavy voice, Milton said, "It's not that I don't feel for you, Miss. But—"
"I know, I know," Charlotte interrupted. "There's rules. Always rules. How far is it?"
She marched on in silence, fully surrounded by anti-flower fae. As long as she she was headed in the right direct, she decided not to try to escape.
"Look, sir! A lupin!" one of them cried out, pointing his spear at a green stalk poking up from the ground.
"Good catch, Ernest. Go and pull it up before it blooms. We'll eat well tonight!"
Ernest strode over and using his spear, he stabbed at the soil around the plant to break it up. Setting the spear aside, he dropped down onto his knees with a gentle thud and pulled the poor plant up by the roots. "Got it, sir!" He folded it in half and put it into a satchel hanging from his belt.
Charlotte had stopped to watch the entire show. "You're all mad!" she cried in exasperation.
"Each to their own, Miss." Milton brandished his spear head at her. "Please keep moving. We're almost there."
Five minutes later, they reached a permanent encampment in a field by the side of the path made up of a great pavilion surrounded by dozens of smaller sleeping tents. From the four posts holding up the pavilion flew red flags, each emblazoned with a foot crushing a flower.
"Into the big tent," Milton urged as he righted his spear in one hand and pushed Charlotte's back with the other. She stumbled a few steps as her feet caught up with the rest of her. She drew the canvas flap open and entered.
"Captain, we come bearing spoils," Milton announced.
The Captain stood beside a table looking at a map that was unrolled on the surface. The corners were weighted down by pine cones. He looked up. "A human girl-child! Splendid! I've heard rumors of one being in the wood. Does she have the smell?"
"She does, Captain. I sniffed her myself. She's quite malodorous, redolent of stench, full of fetor—"
"Milton!"
"To put it succinctly, she stinks."
"I do not!" Charlotte smelled herself. "Okay. Maybe I do, but not of flowers. I'm Charlotte and I'm on a quest to save my friend, Arabella."
"Ah! A questant! So rare these days. 'Tis a pity you won't be able to finish for a while. We must lock you up until you are of an age where you no longer stink of chrysanthemums." The Captain rolled up his map and inserted it into a tube for safekeeping.
"How old is that?" Charlotte demanded.
"Well, usually, it happens when the human reaches the age of twenty-two."
"Twenty-two? I'm only thirteen! I can't wait that long. Arabella needs me."
"Guards, take her away!" the Captain commanded.
Charlotte spun quickly about to see the pavilion was stuffed with the FAFers. "Stop! I know a solution." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the stink bomb. She held it over her head and put on a menacing look. "Don't come any closer!"
"She has a bomb!" one of the crowd cried out.
"Milton, did you not search her before bringing her in?" The Captain was quite peeved.
"No, sir. I didn't think a human girl child would carry such a thing." He moved towards Charlotte to prevent the explosion he feared. Before he could reach her, she threw the orb with all the force she could muster onto the floor of the pavilion. The orb shattered and the purple liquid inside immediately turned into violet gas that spread through the tent.
Sighs of relief came from the faeries who had ducked and shielded themselves. They looked curiously at the smoke and sniffed the air.
"What is that stench?" one of them asked, his eyes wide open in awe.
"It's awful!" another said.
"It's glorious!" the Captain exclaimed. "We love it!" He clasped his hands in rapture. "Thank you, young lady! You may go, but you must be gone before the daylight is done."
"Thank you, Captain!" She turned on her heel and pushed her way out of the pavilion. Nobody challenged her exit and the guards at the entrance caught the odor that followed her as she flew out of the tent. Instead of chasing her, they entered the tent and cried out in joy.
Charlotte re-entered the path and headed in the right direction, half-walking and half-jogging. Her feet were too sore to run.
She continued in this direction for several minutes before she reached the end of the paving. She stopped, panting, to look back. Nobody followed her.
"Great Good Luck! I have it!"
This part of the wood resembled the woods by her house. Charlotte knew she should rest while she was safe, but the thought of Arabella trapped in the grue's lair for a minute longer made her shiver. She kept imagining worse and worse things that Arabella might be suffering and she shivered even more. "Who knows what he's doing to her?"
An hour passed on her way towards Arabella. Finally, up ahead, she came upon a majestic stone archway. Moss had grown over it over in the time it stood guard here, alone. It wasn't part of anything else. It wasn't part of a wall or of a building.
"Where's the rest of it?"
To one side, some branches rustled. "That's all there is. That's all that was ever built." The voice was a creaky tenor, lovely in its own way.
Charlotte's heart sank. She had met too many people today. Some good. Some not so good. She was exhausted to the bone and felt like she needed sleep. And even if she did feel sleepy, she wouldn't stop.
Slowly, she turned. A tree that wasn't there before stood before her. But it wasn't really a tree. It had a trunk and branches, but no leaves. It's bark was black and glinted where the sunlight caught it. "Did you say that?" She couldn't make out a face on the not-tree.
"I did! How very perspicacious of you! Do you know what 'perspicacious' means? Most humans ignore me for another tree in the wood. But who can blame them." He held up two limbs and wiggled twiggy fingers. "I do look like a tree to the uninformed, but I'm so much more!"
"Sir, what are you? I have never seen or read about a faerie like you."
"Dear Miss, I am a Snap! And my name is Klack." He bowed.
"I'm Charlotte and I'm on—"
"Yes! Yes! The quest girl! I heard about you, but I was not so hopeful as to believe the news was true. I'm so happy I found you. I wanted to meet you." Klack rose up on two short limbs he used for legs and waddled closer, leaving a trail in the detritus of the forest floor. "Let me see you up close."
Charlotte knew she should be frightened of a Snap, whatever they were. The closer she came to the grue, the more the folk she met wanted to hurt her. Or, at least, prevent her from completing her quest. "Since you know all about me, tell me about you. What do you do?"
"Do?"
"I mean, to make a living. What do you trade?"
"Oh, I see. I trade in curiosities. The unusual. The charming. The anomalous. If I see something that appeals to me, why, I snap it up!" Klack laughed at his tired little joke. "You are certainly unusual, but I doubt anybody would trade for a human."
"I'm glad of that!" Charlotte still couldn't tell where Klack's eyes and mouth were, or if he even had them. "I'm afraid I have nothing of interest, though."
"Come, come, child! This can't be true. Surely you brought something from the human world that's rare here. Something I've never seen." Klack leaned in.
"Just a chocolate chip cookie, Mr. Klack, and I've eaten half of it. The rest is now crumbs in a plastic baggie."
"Pfft! Humans throw their plastic bags all over the wood. Everybody has one now. That's all you have? Let me see!" Klack suddenly thrust out four branchy arms with twiggy fingers, reaching out for Charlotte. The fingers clicked and clacked together, pinching like lobster claws. With one claw, he took hold of Charlotte's arm.
"Why do people keep grabbing me? Let me go!" Charlotte pulled, but the wooden fingers encircled her arm completely. Twice.
Three other claws patted down her jacket pockets. "Here is something!" Klack stuck his pincher in the left pocket and felt something. "What is this?" Releasing her arm, Charlotte stumbled onto her backside. He took a step back to admire his find. Held in his spindly finger-twigs was the last of the potions from Ursula. He held the phial closer to his unseen eyes and took another step back.
"Look at it! It's black and shiny just like me! It's beautiful! What is it?" He tried to pull the stopper out of the phial, but it wouldn't budge, even with all four claws working on it. Klack snapped his twiggy fingers in the air. "I know! My brothers will help me open it and we'll see what's inside."
"Please, Mr. Klack! I need that. I'm sure I need that." The other two potions were exactly what she needed, when she needed them, even in the order she needed them.
"I'm sure I need it more! Ha ha!" He held it up high and danced in circles on his stubby legs, watching the black substance inside catch the sunlight and sparkle. "This will bring me something far better! If I wish to trade it at all. Look at how we sparkle together!"
Charlotte leapt up to grab the phial, but it was held too high for her to reach and she didn't dare grab at Klack's arms. He might drop it and it might spill or break. "Please. I need it." Her exhaustion was complete. She was unable to stoke the usual anger that fueled her. All that was left was sadness. ~~What good is sadness?~~
"I can't give it back. I'm a Snap. We steal from others when they want passage. Those are the rules and this arch is mine. I'm off home to my brothers. What a discovery! I wish you great Good Luck on your quest!" Klack turned and ran, this time using his longer pair of legs. Too quick for Charlotte to chase after, he was out of view in a few seconds.
"Please. I need it." Her whimpering surprised her. Charlotte never whimpered, even to the face of the most daunting school bullies. "Please..." She collapsed onto the ground with a soul-crushingly dull thud, her legs splayed out.
"I'm so sorry, Arabella. I tried." Charlotte's tears flowed and she sobbed and wailed.
After she stopped her sobbing and wailing, she blubbered for a bit until she was all cried out.
She pulled the cookie from her pocket and ate the rest, pouring the final crumbs into her mouth. While she wanted to enjoy it, it tasted bitter to her, like defeat. She contemplated whether giving up was a sensible choice for a quest.
She stood and brushed off her pants and wiped at her tear-stained face, making a chocolate chip smear on one cheek. "Nobody defeats me! I ~~always~~ win!"
Feeling a renewed sense of purpose, she walked beneath the archway. Her jacket pockets were now empty, except for the empty plastic baggie she carefully folded up and put away in her left pocket. "I can't litter. Who knows? Maybe it will come in useful. Maybe grues are terrified of plastic sandwich bags."
"I'm ~~still~~ coming," she announced and stepped through to the other side. "Arabella Allebara! I'm coming!"
She pushed through her pain, both physical and emotional, as she marched down the narrow, unkempt path.
She expected it to grow darker the closer to Stanley's lair she came, but it was still the same bright, sunny day it was when she began her journey. The path, however, became more and more overgrown.
"I'm on a quest! La la la!" she sang to keep up her spirits. "To save Arabell-la-la-la..."
Brambles grabbed at her pants and jacket, slowing her progress. Snap-like branches scraped at her face and tore at her hair, forcing her to swat them away with a visceral disgust.
Her singing dwindled and was replaced with the grunts of struggle as she fought with the woods to make it through. She wasn't even sure if she was still on the path. The skin on her hands and cheeks was scratched up. Her hair was a rat's nest.
Finally, she stepped out into a clearing. She took a moment to prepare herself and comb her hair with her fingers before examining the surroundings. Hemmed in on all sides with thick, overgrown underbrush, the clearing revealed a few stumps dotting the empty land where trees were cut down.
An enormous stone house stood in the center, three storeys tall with a thatched roof and French-pane windows. The entire structure reflected the sunlight, glowing white, in a weird manner that Charlotte was unable to put words to. The house should have been beautiful, but it was not. It was not inviting at all.
She saw no door to gain entrance.
Charlotte edged around the outside, ready to dive into the brush at the first sign of danger. The door turned out to be on the fourth side of the structure. "If only I'd chosen the other direction... But this ~~feels~~ like the right place." Charlotte whispered. "I hope this is the place. I hope Arabella is here."
She stood up from her crouch and moved forward to the door. "It's now or never..."
Charlotte had never known such blind fear.
The front door creaked louder than her shoes squeaked. Even the gate at the back of her yard was not as loud as this. "Next quest, I'm bringing an oilcan." She stopped pushing and whipped her head around to make sure nobody was sneaking up behind her. Her heart pounded and she paused to take a deep breath before turning her attention back to the inside the house where nothing moved or made a noise.
Throwing caution to the wind, she flung the door wide open, like ripping off an old bandage. The inside was a single room, piled from floor to ceiling with broken, faded junk. The junk was cemented together with filth. A singular narrow path ran from the door through the walls of trash to somewhere in the back.
Charlotte expected to see bones from all the creatures the grue had eaten, but there were none. Perhaps they were upstairs, but the things she could identify were human-made things: old bicycles, car tires, scraps of carpet, anything that might be thrown away by a careless—or uncaring—human. She refused to touch any of it. The filth didn't reveal what is was, nor what it might have once been. Any windows that decorated the house's facade on the outside were blocked by the garbage, letting in little light,
She shut the door behind her and gloom returned. If Stanley was out of the house, then he would announce himself with door creaks. Holding her hands in front of her face and torso and elbows tucked in, she inched down the little path left through the mess, a mockery of the woods outside she would have enjoyed if she were not consumed with worry for Arabella.
At the end of the path, a staircase slackly wended its way up to the next floor. It was wide enough to allow two Charlottes to ascend, side by side. "Or, perhaps ~~one~~ grue." She kicked herself mentally for forgetting to ask more about grues. What they looked like and how big they were. Did they have a lot of sharp teeth? If they ate unwary wanderers whole, they must have mouths like lions. ~~Or, sharks!~~
With each step, the tread squeaked. "Are those my shoes again? This is making it really hard to be sneaky."
The second floor was stuffed even more full of junk and filth of the same type. Only this time, there were no paths, just a great wall with no more room for junk and maybe room for just a bit of filth where there were chinks.
Charlotte crept creakily up the final stairs on the final leg of her quest. "Either she's here, or she's nowhere."
This room was filled with useful junk strewn about on tables and sat on shelves, reminiscent of Ursula's hut, only made more sinister by the grue. Light streamed in from the windows, all of which were unblocked and uncovered.
A walkway ran to either side. She picked the right-hand direction and tiptoed further into the room. She stopped several times to inspect the little contraptions in various states of repair. Clocks, box traps, lamps, toasters, every manner of human device Charlotte could imagine.
She skirted along the outside wall of the house, lined with tables and workbenches, also scavenged. In the center stood something taller than her. A single thing, half-built, half-working. It was made up of car fenders, car wheels, car headlights, and other metal parts she couldn't identify. "What does this do?" she whispered in growing dread. On this side of the great machine hung a massive scoop, like the kind she had seen on the giant machines used to dig holes and clear land to build on. In the background behind it hung knives and scissor blades like Klack's fingers. In any other context, she'd admire it as an art piece, some commentary on modern progress. The great machine was dormant for now and she definitely didn't want to see it in operation. Her imagination caused a shudder up her spine.
She couldn't bear to look at it any longer and turned her attention to what lie ahead of her. In the corner, opposite the corner she entered from, hung a golden cage from the ceiling.
As Charlotte approached, something stirred in the cage. Furry and blue, it raised its tail in the air and crouched back. It's guard hairs shot up erect, making the creature look twice bigger than it was. It let out a terrible hiss meant to frighten things bigger than itself.
"Arabella?" Charlotte was not frightened at all. She was filled with sympathy for her friend, catnapped and caged alone in this awful place.
The cat relaxed and crept forward to the bars of the cage. With wide eyes, glistening with tears, she said, "Mew?"
"Of course it's me. I'm so happy I've found you. This is the strangest place and it took forever. Now, let's see about getting you out of there."
Arabella purred and pushed her nose between two bars. Charlotte put her finger out and stroked the furry, blue muzzle. Both sighed at their reunion.
"Ha ha! I've finally found it!" The gruesome voice came from the stairs, along with the sounds of squeaky footfalls of somebody running up them. "I can finish my Great Device! Ha ha!" Charlotte didn't recognize the pattern of thuds on the landing below, but it was the jig of a happy grue, as happy as grues can ever be.
Thuds now headed up the remaining staircase and around the room towards the cage.
Panicking, Charlotte's fingers sought whatever mechanism was used to lock the cage. Arabella hissed again, ready for a fight.
It was when Stanley came into view that Charlotte saw her first grue. He was a strange fae. His skin was blinding white, like a fresh sheet of notebook paper with no lines. He had the same rough features of a human, but his hands and feet were big and flat connected to arms and legs that were too long. The only hair to be seen grew out of his ears and nose. The only thing he wore was a pair of Madras plaid walking shorts he had stolen from a golf course late at night. They were triple-extra large to hike up over his huge, white belly.
Stanley grinned an evil grin, gnashing his teeth. They were sharp, crooked and about the same number a human would have, except for a missing incisor. Grues were afraid of only one thing and that was dentists.
"Ah! You must be Charlotte." He held up the lead pipe with a U-bend on one end, shifting it back and forth between his hands. "I got your message."
Charlotte was afraid, but she saw in her mind the successful completion of her quest now that she had found Arabella. She only had to get themselves back home. This renewed her stamina and her resolve.
Arabella hissed again in blind rage.
"You must be Stanley. Not quite what I expected." Charlotte turned back to searching the cage for the release.
"And neither are you! I was told you were a mere human girl-child of only twelve—"
"Thirteen!" ~~I've surely grown at least a year after what I've been through!~~
Stanley chuckled an evil chuckle. "Thirteen, then. As you wish. Either way, I will grind you down to the filth you are and fill in the gaps down below." He advanced forward at Charlotte a thud at a time. His flat feet didn't bend and this made his gait more of a waddle like a duck. He gripped the pipe in his left hand and held it over his head.
Frantic fingers felt at the cage bottom, searching for the latch.
Stanley was within two steps when Charlotte's finger caught the clasp and pulled it.
Thud! One step away.
Arabella heard the cage unlock and with one terrifying leap, her nose pushed the cage door open and she flew out of the cage.
Thud! Stanley tried to bring down the pipe upon Charlotte's head.
Charlotte threw up her arms and cowered down. Arabella 's flight shocked her, but her heart leapt up that Arabella was free and could escape.
But Arabella didn't flee. She had aimed herself directly at Stanley. With a hiss, she landed on his face and brought out her claws.
Stanley dropped the pipe and used his other hand to strike at his attacker. With one sudden, swift motion, he batted at Arabella and knocked her away.
Arabella was cast against a wall where she struck with a sickening thud. The impact forced the air from her lungs, causing her to emit a yowl of pain.
"Arabella!" Charlotte could only watch in horror.
Stanley also yelped in pain a few seconds later as blood seeped from his cheek. Arabella had gotten in one good swipe before he had knocked her away. He put his flat hand up to the wound. "What?" He looked at the deep, dark red blood on his fingers. "You evil creature!" he spat, turning round to face Arabella's inert body lying on the floor. "You ~~evil~~ creature! You scratched me! I'm going to get cat scratch fever. Oh, no..."
Stanley coughed. "I can feel it spreading..." The white of his cheek had turned dark and the pall was indeed spreading. Stanley slumped to the floor, supporting himself with the hand that wasn't glued to his cheek to stem the bleeding. The fire in his red eyes dimmed to a faint glow. Soon, his face was black and his chest was becoming dark as well. "I am undone!"
Within a minute, Stanley lay on the floor, a blackened heap wearing brightly colored shorts.
Arabella lay on her side, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. She panted in short breaths and it was obvious to Charlotte that her spine had been broken from the angle of her hindmost end.
"Arabella..." Charlotte knelt down in tears. "Please don't die." She dared not touch her friend for fear of causing her more pain. "I'm so sorry. I tried to save you..."
"Meow..." Arabella's words were weak and raspy.
"I love you, too! I struggled so hard to get here and save you. There must be something I can do. But all I have is a plastic baggie left. I had another potion but Klack stole it from me. What can a baggie do?" She thrust her hand into her left pocket to pull out the bag, but her fingers were blocked by something hard and glassy. "What?"
Charlotte gripped hold and pulled out a phial filled with black liquid, shiny like liquid obsidian. "This is impossible!" She held it up so Arabella could see. "It's back! What did Ursula say? It can't be taken, only given!" The tears started to flow from the pangs of hope that welled from within. The phial wanted to be opened, demanded to be opened, and she easily twisted off the stopper.
Arabella's eyes had faded far from their usual brightness and slowly began to shut. Her panting slowed to just a shallow breath every few seconds.
"Arabella, please hang on!" Charlotte tipped the phial so the contents would pour into Arabella's mouth. Instead, the black liquid took a sharp turn and moved across Arabella, spreading out in a fine mist which soaked into her fur.
Then, there was silence. Charlotte looked at the phial, but there was no black left inside. Arabella's eyes were closed and her breathing stopped.
"Oh, Arabella Allebara!" Charlotte wailed and put her her hand onto the lifeless body, sobbing uncontrollably. The fur was warm and soothing. And she felt a heartbeat! Then another, each as strong as the last. Arabella stirred, spreading her body out to its full length in a cat stretch.
"...mew..." she said, barely audible.
Charlotte didn't quite catch what she said.
"Meow mew moww!" Arabella opened her eyes, bright and loving as ever.
"You ~~are~~ back. How are you feeling?"
Arabella sat up and casually groomed away any traces of the grue still stuck on her foreclaws.
Cheeks stained with tears, Charlotte rejoiced. "Come! We still have to get home."
Arabella leapt up on Charlotte's shoulder. She was small enough to be a shoulder cat, but this was not her preferred spot. However, she was able to nuzzle up against her friend's neck and know that she was safe.
Charlotte stood and turned to leave when another fae rounded the corner. She was the size of a grownup human. "Stanley?" She came forward to kneel ay Stanley's remains. She looked at Arabella. "It was you."
"I did it!" Charlotte stated firmly. Arabella had been through enough for the day.
"But only a cat scratch can hurt a grue." The faerie looked up with perplexed eyes.
"It was me. I killed him. I borrowed her claws." Charlotte waited for the faerie to attack her and exact its revenge.
Instead, the faerie said, "I am Hench. It means 'workhorse' and it was a name given to me well after I was born. I do not recall the name my mother gave me. My master is dead and now you are my new Master. I belong to you now."
"But— But people don't belong to other people," Charlotte stammered, confused and frightened.
"I do. Those are the rules. I must serve you now." Hench stood to her full height, awaiting orders.
"I can't have a servant. What would my mother say?" Charlotte thought long and hard on what to do. "I know how to keep you busy for a while. I want you to dig a hole outside and bury everything in this house. Bury it deep. You can put Stanley into his own grave if you want. But bury everything!"
Hench's eyes widened. "But that will take... Forever!"
Charlotte smiled, patting Hench's shoulder. "Take all the time you need."
"Yes, Mistress." Hench bowed her head, both in respect and in defeat.
"Mew mew Moww meow." Arabella gave her the cutest look she could muster.
Outside, Charlotte said, "I can't agree. I don't think she's good or bad. She just has to do what she's told. Don't worry. It must be a curse or something. I'll see if Ursula can help. Later, though."
The house's glow was gone and now it looked like a sad, lonely stone house sitting alone in an empty clearing, devoid of life. Cracks showed in some of the window panes and weeds grew around its foundations.
"It's an ordinary house again."
Faeries cut through the thick underbrush which no longer offered up resistance. Charlotte and Arabella were surrounded by faeries bowing to them on one knee.
"Thank you, Charlotte!"
"Thank you, Arabella!"
Their names were known. Hands offered up little cakes and bits bits of meat, cups of water and other concoctions.
Charlotte accepted a cup of water and and drank. She took another and Arabella lapped away until she also was sated.
Hench exited the house with shovel in hand and ignored Charlotte and the other faeries. She crossed to the other side and found a spot to start digging.
When the underbrush was mostly gone, torn away and trampled by gratitude, Charlotte spoke. "Please, stop bowing! It's not necessary. We need to get home. My mother is probably worried about me." Arabella nuzzled her cheek. "Us. Can somebody show us the way?"
A pathway through the crowd opened up as the faeries bowed away.
As Charlotte maneuvered through, one faerie addressed Arabella by name. "Miss Arabella! We will sing songs of your heroism for ridding our kingdom of evil!"
"Meow meow mew Moww Moww."
"Yes, we know. The evil will return. It always does. You can't have an enchanted wood without some evil in it to balance things out. But it will be a while until it chooses its new shape and makes itself known. We are hopeful it will take a few years."
Charlotte felt a fluttering at her ear over the shoulder not currently occupied by a cat, Then, a gentle touch on her hair and the beating stopped. She put a hand up and felt her plastic butterfly barrette had returned and clipped itself back onto her hair. "That's the wrong side!" she laughed. "Welcome back though."
When she was ready to leave the clearing, Ursula appeared. She put her hand on Charlotte's cheek. "You did good, kiddo. Better than good. You both did great!" As she withdrew her hand, the scratches on Charlotte's face—and hands—blended away into her skin.
"Thank you, Ursula."
"Meow!"
"Yes, I said you too, Arabella." Ursula scritched the fur between the cat's ears. "We are all grateful to the both of you."
Arabella purred.
"Now, how do we get home? We're so far away." Charlotte absently put her hand up to connect with Arabella to prove to herself that she was still there.
"Come. I know a shortcut."
"A shortcut?" Charlotte's anger didn't flare this time. Instead, she just said, "Rules."
Ursula nodded wisely and led the way.
"Hey! I can see my house from here. Thank you, Ursula."
The witch had stopped to allow Charlotte and Arabella pass and get ahead and now that Charlotte looked back, she was gone. Ursula couldn't allow herself be seen by other humans. It was the rules.
"Thank you anyway!" Charlotte called to the trees. To Arabella, "I think you're down to eight lives now. Do be more sensible from now on!" She grinned broadly and kissed the end of Arabella's nose.
"mEW!"
Charlotte laughed. "Apparently, cats ~~are~~ capable of sarcasm."
When she reached the field, there was her mother halfway across, stepping gingerly in her fancy work shoes.
"Mom!" Charlotte called out, waving. She ran across the field to meet her mother in the middle. "Mom!" She hugged her mother, who held her tightly.
"Meow!" Arabella stood to her full height, still on Charlotte's shoulder.
"Arabella? But how?"
"I found her, Mom. I found her!"
Anna petted Arabella, who purred back. "I'm so glad to see you. Our house wouldn't be a home if you weren't there."
When Anna opened the backdoor to the little farm house, Arabella jumped down, landed with a petite thud, and scampered inside to catnap on her special blanket at the foot of Charlotte's bed. "moww moww moww" ~~Surely, I've earned it!~~
Anna didn't go inside the house, but instead said, "If that's Arabella, then what did I put in the shoebox in the garage?"
Charlotte followed to see, too.
The garage was a separate single-car structure that leaned a little to one side. Anna used it for her potting shed and never parked her car in it. Fearing it might collapse, Brad promised he'd help her shore it up.
Inside, on the workbench, rested a cardboard shoebox, the hinged lid shut. Anna kept it at arm's length and considered it with curiosity for a second before flipping it open.
Anna's face scrunched up her face in disgust. "It's a rat! Somebody dyed a rat ~~blue~~ and put Arabella's collar on it. How could I be fooled by this?" She slammed the lid shut, crushing the box a bit in her haste. "I'll bury this tomorrow. For now, we celebrate."
Charlotte hugged her mother again. "I'm not in trouble?"
"You're safe. Arabella's safe. And I was so stupid."
Back in the house, after Anna had removed her shoes and left them outside the backdoor to clean later, she pulled a pair of pizzas from the freezer and started the oven. "It's a two-pizza kinda day," she announced cavalierly.
"You were not stupid, Mom. Somebody ~~wanted~~ us to think Arabella was dead." She was sure Hench had done the dirty deed since Stanley was not very human-looking and in danger of being clawed. Hench must have placed a spell on the rat that vanished when her ownership was transferred to Charlotte. "We only see what we want to see, I guess."
"But why did I see that?" Anna sat on the edge of the built-in bench in the eating bay to face her daughter. "I really adore Arabella. I mean it! She ~~is~~ a part of this family. She even likes Brad and he likes her back."
"I guess you were scared." ~~Scared for me.~~ "Is Brad coming over tonight?"
"No, not tonight."
Charlotte recalled something Kay had said about humans and the woods. "Mom, who owns the woods?"
"Didn't you know? Brad's family does."
"What? You never said..."
"I'm sorry. There's a lot of things I never tell you that I probably should. I keep trying to keep you safe, but it's only torn us apart. From now on, I'll try to tell you everything."
"Thank you, Mom." Charlotte had again earned her teenage status early. "I promise I'll still let you worry about me. Once in a while. Tell me about the woods."
"Well, Brad's family have owned them forever, since they first came here from Europe. Someone in the family, some uncle way, way back, set up a trust to keep it safe and pay the taxes on it. You know what a trust is?"
Charlotte nodded, rapt in the story.
"That's how I met Brad. He came to the law firm to hire a lawyer. His brother, Stanley, is trying to break the trust and sell the woods. He's a wastrel and squandered all the money he inherited. The law firm handling the trust has sided with Stanley, which is so wrong, by the way. Brad needed us.
"He was the one who told me the woods can be dangerous. Sometimes, homeless people try to live in there, but they don't stay long. Maybe the stories about strange things in the woods are true and they get frightened off.
"But Brad loves the woods. I can tell it's probably a bit more than he loves me, but I don't mind. He's a good man. When he moves in with us, he said I can go back to school so I can finally be a lawyer, too! I'm sorry it's been so difficult for you and I never made it easier, did I? Never sharing my worries with you. The same as my mother did..."
The dam behind Charlotte's heart broke and the tears flowed again. She fell into Anna's arms. "Mom, I'm sorry I've been so mean. I didn't want to move here at first. I liked living in our apartment. It had plenty of room. I don't hate you. I don't hate Brad. I'm sorry for all the mean things I said and I'll be nice to Brad next time I see him. I promise! And if we hadn't moved here, I wouldn't have found Arabella."
Anna didn't understand the change in her daughter or where it came from, but she was, at her core, content. Their relationship would be much improved now.
Charlotte laughed, wiping away the tears. "And don't worry about Stanley. I don't think he'll win."
Arabella jumped up on the mission table. "Mew!"
"You want pizza, too?" Anna asked.
©K.J.Donaldson 2025