“I wish he’d quit with the damned shoe already,” Stella complained.
“I know,” laughed Maggie, “He’s tried to put it on me three times already.”
“Maybe he likes you,” Stella rolled her wheelchair forward a few inches so she could see better. Ash, unaware of their gossip, was trying to flag down another co-ed on her way to class. Stella watched amused, as Ash chased the woman, waving a stiletto heel in the air.
“Riiiiight,” Maggie frowned, then sighed, “You really should have come, Stella. I’ve never been to a dance like that before. No one knew who anyone was.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Stella usually went to all the dances, but this one had struck a sour note with her. A masquerade ball, with full face masks sounded like fun, unless you were the one person everyone would recognize anyway. Annoyed, she had told Maggie she wasn’t going; even while she was buying a ticket and shopping for a dress. The dress still hung in her closet, its blue sateen shimmering even in the darkness, a single shoe parked underneath it.
By now Ash had spotted them. He crossed the courtyard towards them, a smile on his face. “Hey, Maggie, Stella,” he hugged each of them.
“How’s the search for your mystery woman going?” Maggie smirked openly.
Ash shook his head, “Even when the shoe seems like it should fit, it doesn’t. It’s like it’s magic or something.”
“Or a curse,” contributed Stella, “It could definitely be a curse. Why else would she run away at five minutes to midnight?”
“Maybe she didn’t want him to know who she was,” Maggie shrugged, “I thought about that. You know, wouldn’t it be kind of cool to skip the unmasking and never know who you were dancing with?”
Ash held out the shoe to Maggie.
“For the last time, Ash, it’s not me,” Maggie huffed, “You wanna know who I spent the whole night talking to? Some kid named Griffin Dore. No really, that was his name.”
Stella laughed. “How was it when you met him after the dance?”
“Uh, I didn’t. He’s not my type.”
Stella gave Ash a pointed look.
“I’m not that shallow,” Ash crossed his arms.
“Hey!” Maggie interjected, “I just know what I like.”
“So do I, like, you know, a good personality . . . Someone I could talk to all night . . .” Ash’s head snapped up as the choir class filed out of their classroom, “Gotta go, wish me luck.”
The two women watched him flag down a cluster of musicians. They giggled in C major while he explained what he was after.
“Can we just tranq him until the next dance?” Stella glanced at her watch. Chemistry was starting in seven minutes.
“What would we do with his body though?”
“I’ll take it,” Stella answered without thinking, “I mean, I have my own room, so no one would know.”
“Your cheeks are red! Oooooo!” Maggie’s eyes flashed with glee, “Stella and Ash, sitting in a tree, c-a-s-h-i-n-g.”
“Cashing?” Stella pushed her chair towards the edge of the courtyard.
“It rhymes with Ash,” Maggie followed her, “You don’t really have a thing for him, do you?”
“Let’s put it this way,” Stella paused at an intersection, “magic happened and it ruined everything.” She continued straight towards the Johnson-Southward building, while Maggie hung a right. “Last time I listen to someone who claims to be my Godmother,” she muttered as she navigated the ramp.
Ash was waiting for her as she exited Chemistry. “Hey, Stella,” he fidgeted with satchel, as if he was carrying a live animal inside of it.
“Quit with the shoe,” Stella intentionally rolled over his foot.
“Ow! You tryna break my toe?”
Stella ignored him, queuing behind some other students for the elevator.
“I really think maybe you did break my toe,” Ash stood on one foot, grasping the other in his hands, “and here I thought maybe you were . . . maybe you . . .”
“Maybe I what?” Stella watched the elevator open without really seeing it.
Ash put his foot back down and winced, “You said something about five minutes to midnight. How did you know what time she left?”
“It was a guess, Ash,” Stella pushed the elevator button again. “It sure is taking a long time,” she thought.
Ash reached in his bag, pulling out the shoe, “Then you don’t mind trying it on, do you?”
“You’re being silly and ableist. Go away, Ash.”
“I’m not-“
“Please, I just want to be alone,” Stella turned her face away from him, blinking rapidly. Instead of leaving, Ash hovered over her awkwardly.
Stella waited until they exited the building before unloading, “Do you even listen to yourself when you talk?”
Ash shook his head.
“Or think about what other people might be going through? Seriously, Ash, I don’t have the emotional reserves to try on your stupid, ugly shoe. What would you do if it fit me? Did you ever think about that? The lights are on, Ash, but I don’t think anyone’s home.”
“Are you done?” Ash’s face was turning red.
“Yeah,” Stella crossed her arms, “I’m done.”
“I do think about other people,” Ash said quietly, “That really hurts my feelings.” Ash scuffed the ground with his foot, “I think it would be great if it was you, I mean, we’re already friends and to find out that maybe we have some sort of deeper connection . . . I think that would be really neat.”
Stella made a series of incoherent sounds before her mind caught up with her mouth. “How do you explain the fact that your mystery woman could walk?” She managed.
Ash swallowed so hard, Stella could see his adam’s apple move in his throat. “I, uh, well,” he cleared his throat, “I’m a prince of an enchanted kingdom.” Stella’s jaw dropped so low, she thought it would scrape the ground. “I know it sounds strange and you probably think I’m crazy. Most people think I’m crazy,” he bit his lower lip.
“I’m gonna stop you there,” Stella held up a hand, “Things have been . . . stressful lately, and maybe it’s been a little too much. There’s people you can talk to in the guidance office . . .” Stella started rolling towards that exact building. She would take him there if she to clothesline him and drag him behind her chair by his bag strap.
“Hey,” Ash kept pace with her, a disappointed look on his face, “I thought you at least would understand. I mean Mariposa said she knew you, so I thought you’d be at least a little open-minded.”
“What?” Stella stopped so fast that her chair skidded sideways, “How do you know Mariposa?”
Ash shrugged, “She’s my mom’s stepmother’s cousin.”
“So everyone in your family is weird.”
“Magic.”
“Right,” Stella gave her wheels a push, “Magic.”
Stella had just entered the library when Maggie appeared. “I haven’t seen Ash in a few days,” Maggie’s forehead creased, “I wonder if he’s sick.”
Stella tried to look innocent, “I heard he was sent to the hospital for an evaluation.”
“Wow,” Maggie’s eyes widened, “Meningitis?”
“Uh, more like mental health stuff.”
Maggie’s mouth formed a silent O.
“He uh, has, what’s it called? When you think you’re someone famous?” Stella fidgeted with the strap of the bag slung over her chair.
“Instagram?” Maggie made a wry face.
“Hah,” Stella rolled her way over to an accessible study carrel. Maggie followed her, taking the carrel next to her and reluctantly opening a text book. Stella hunched forward, cautiously pulling the notebook out of the bag. It looked like every other notebook, wire-bound, plain black cover, lined paper inside. But no other notebook was like this one. She opened the front cover, reading the writing as if it was the first time:
It was cheesy and badly written, but it didn’t matter. It woke in her a longing for the impossible that was so strong, she could taste the bitterness in her mouth. Next to her, Maggie crossed and uncrossed her legs.
“Psst,” Maggie peeked around the carrel wall, “I’m starving.”
“Shhhhhhh,” hissed a student behind them.
Stella jammed the notebook in its satchel and followed Maggie outside. “Bet you’re bummed,” Maggie held the door for her.
“About what?” Stella tried to remember what they had been talking about. “Food,” she thought to herself, “Instagram, Ash. Oh, Ash.”
“I thought you had a thing for Ash. If he’s locked up in some psych ward, you can’t really make any progress with him. Although I guess the shoe thing was kind of a problem too.”
“That’s not the worst of it. I think we might be related, too,” Stella tried to remember how he said he was related to Mariposa. She wasn’t sure if she could remember how she was related to Mariposa.
“Woah,” Maggie stopped walking, a horrified look on her face. “You know what they say,” Maggie’s face smoothed over as she shrugged, “That sort of thing’s normal in other countries. I bet a lot of people accidentally marry relatives anyway.”
It always started the same. First, she could hear the scritch-scratching of mice in the walls. Then, they would appear, dressed in little jackets and nightcaps. As if that wasn’t disconcerting enough, birds would start to peck at the windows. Crows and bluejays, dressed in ties and top hats. Reluctantly, Stella opened the window. It was better than dealing with the holes they would leave in the screen. Let them fly around her room sewing for awhile. Yes, sewing, for that’s what they did, stitching together magic cloth with their beaks while the mice spun straw into golden thread. Stella sat glumly in her chair, “You all are the ones who started this anyway. Things were fine before I was enchanted.”
“Were they?” Mariposa poked her head in the window, “I seem to remember someone crying to me about a dance.”
“I was just being silly. I should have never listened to you,” Stella crossed her arms, her bottom lip trembling.
Mariposa hefted herself through the window, then sat panting on Stella’s bed. “This gets harder every year. It may be time I retire,” Mariposa fanned herself with her wings, “You know, time before this, the Prince Charming wanted me to teach Cinderella etiquette. He found her too backwards. Eventually I just told her she’d be better finding someone who loved her for who she was.”
Stella looked up at her in surprise, “You mean I’m not the only one you’ve done this to?”
“Oh no, Honey, I’ve got a full quota of Happy Endings to meet. I had one Cinderella who wouldn’t wear anything other than tennis shoes,” Mariposa removed a handkerchief from the front of her glittery gown, “Kids these days.”
“I don’t want anymore of this,” Stella waved her hand around gesturing at the gown the mice and birds were basting together.
Mariposa blotted her face, “First let me tell you about the position. Hours are pretty flexible and pay isn’t that bad. Best of all, you get wings.”
“What? Are you . . . asking me . . . to be a Fairy Godmother?”
“You obviously aren’t happy being a pursued woman, so why not take a job that gives you independence and travel? See the world, you know?” Mariposa tucked her hankie back into her bosom.
For a moment Stella could envision herself floating, her chair aloft, the campus in miniature below her. Suddenly she remembered Ash, and even in her imagination, she fell, her wings useless. Before she could wet her dry lips enough to ask about him, there was another tap at her window.
“Mari- Oh! Sorry Stella, I didn’t realize this was your room,” Ash popped his head back out the window. Baffled, Stella watched him hover on luminescent wings. Once she recovered she started laughing and couldn’t stop. He was wearing a sparkly green leotard that hugged his form in a way that was almost obscene.
Almost, although if she was honest, it was the best thing she’d seen all week.
“I know,” laughed Maggie, “He’s tried to put it on me three times already.”
“Maybe he likes you,” Stella rolled her wheelchair forward a few inches so she could see better. Ash, unaware of their gossip, was trying to flag down another co-ed on her way to class. Stella watched amused, as Ash chased the woman, waving a stiletto heel in the air.
“Riiiiight,” Maggie frowned, then sighed, “You really should have come, Stella. I’ve never been to a dance like that before. No one knew who anyone was.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Stella usually went to all the dances, but this one had struck a sour note with her. A masquerade ball, with full face masks sounded like fun, unless you were the one person everyone would recognize anyway. Annoyed, she had told Maggie she wasn’t going; even while she was buying a ticket and shopping for a dress. The dress still hung in her closet, its blue sateen shimmering even in the darkness, a single shoe parked underneath it.
By now Ash had spotted them. He crossed the courtyard towards them, a smile on his face. “Hey, Maggie, Stella,” he hugged each of them.
“How’s the search for your mystery woman going?” Maggie smirked openly.
Ash shook his head, “Even when the shoe seems like it should fit, it doesn’t. It’s like it’s magic or something.”
“Or a curse,” contributed Stella, “It could definitely be a curse. Why else would she run away at five minutes to midnight?”
“Maybe she didn’t want him to know who she was,” Maggie shrugged, “I thought about that. You know, wouldn’t it be kind of cool to skip the unmasking and never know who you were dancing with?”
Ash held out the shoe to Maggie.
“For the last time, Ash, it’s not me,” Maggie huffed, “You wanna know who I spent the whole night talking to? Some kid named Griffin Dore. No really, that was his name.”
Stella laughed. “How was it when you met him after the dance?”
“Uh, I didn’t. He’s not my type.”
Stella gave Ash a pointed look.
“I’m not that shallow,” Ash crossed his arms.
“Hey!” Maggie interjected, “I just know what I like.”
“So do I, like, you know, a good personality . . . Someone I could talk to all night . . .” Ash’s head snapped up as the choir class filed out of their classroom, “Gotta go, wish me luck.”
The two women watched him flag down a cluster of musicians. They giggled in C major while he explained what he was after.
“Can we just tranq him until the next dance?” Stella glanced at her watch. Chemistry was starting in seven minutes.
“What would we do with his body though?”
“I’ll take it,” Stella answered without thinking, “I mean, I have my own room, so no one would know.”
“Your cheeks are red! Oooooo!” Maggie’s eyes flashed with glee, “Stella and Ash, sitting in a tree, c-a-s-h-i-n-g.”
“Cashing?” Stella pushed her chair towards the edge of the courtyard.
“It rhymes with Ash,” Maggie followed her, “You don’t really have a thing for him, do you?”
“Let’s put it this way,” Stella paused at an intersection, “magic happened and it ruined everything.” She continued straight towards the Johnson-Southward building, while Maggie hung a right. “Last time I listen to someone who claims to be my Godmother,” she muttered as she navigated the ramp.
——
Ash was waiting for her as she exited Chemistry. “Hey, Stella,” he fidgeted with satchel, as if he was carrying a live animal inside of it.
“Quit with the shoe,” Stella intentionally rolled over his foot.
“Ow! You tryna break my toe?”
Stella ignored him, queuing behind some other students for the elevator.
“I really think maybe you did break my toe,” Ash stood on one foot, grasping the other in his hands, “and here I thought maybe you were . . . maybe you . . .”
“Maybe I what?” Stella watched the elevator open without really seeing it.
Ash put his foot back down and winced, “You said something about five minutes to midnight. How did you know what time she left?”
“It was a guess, Ash,” Stella pushed the elevator button again. “It sure is taking a long time,” she thought.
Ash reached in his bag, pulling out the shoe, “Then you don’t mind trying it on, do you?”
“You’re being silly and ableist. Go away, Ash.”
“I’m not-“
“Please, I just want to be alone,” Stella turned her face away from him, blinking rapidly. Instead of leaving, Ash hovered over her awkwardly.
Stella waited until they exited the building before unloading, “Do you even listen to yourself when you talk?”
Ash shook his head.
“Or think about what other people might be going through? Seriously, Ash, I don’t have the emotional reserves to try on your stupid, ugly shoe. What would you do if it fit me? Did you ever think about that? The lights are on, Ash, but I don’t think anyone’s home.”
“Are you done?” Ash’s face was turning red.
“Yeah,” Stella crossed her arms, “I’m done.”
“I do think about other people,” Ash said quietly, “That really hurts my feelings.” Ash scuffed the ground with his foot, “I think it would be great if it was you, I mean, we’re already friends and to find out that maybe we have some sort of deeper connection . . . I think that would be really neat.”
Stella made a series of incoherent sounds before her mind caught up with her mouth. “How do you explain the fact that your mystery woman could walk?” She managed.
Ash swallowed so hard, Stella could see his adam’s apple move in his throat. “I, uh, well,” he cleared his throat, “I’m a prince of an enchanted kingdom.” Stella’s jaw dropped so low, she thought it would scrape the ground. “I know it sounds strange and you probably think I’m crazy. Most people think I’m crazy,” he bit his lower lip.
“I’m gonna stop you there,” Stella held up a hand, “Things have been . . . stressful lately, and maybe it’s been a little too much. There’s people you can talk to in the guidance office . . .” Stella started rolling towards that exact building. She would take him there if she to clothesline him and drag him behind her chair by his bag strap.
“Hey,” Ash kept pace with her, a disappointed look on his face, “I thought you at least would understand. I mean Mariposa said she knew you, so I thought you’d be at least a little open-minded.”
“What?” Stella stopped so fast that her chair skidded sideways, “How do you know Mariposa?”
Ash shrugged, “She’s my mom’s stepmother’s cousin.”
“So everyone in your family is weird.”
“Magic.”
“Right,” Stella gave her wheels a push, “Magic.”
——
Stella had just entered the library when Maggie appeared. “I haven’t seen Ash in a few days,” Maggie’s forehead creased, “I wonder if he’s sick.”
Stella tried to look innocent, “I heard he was sent to the hospital for an evaluation.”
“Wow,” Maggie’s eyes widened, “Meningitis?”
“Uh, more like mental health stuff.”
Maggie’s mouth formed a silent O.
“He uh, has, what’s it called? When you think you’re someone famous?” Stella fidgeted with the strap of the bag slung over her chair.
“Instagram?” Maggie made a wry face.
“Hah,” Stella rolled her way over to an accessible study carrel. Maggie followed her, taking the carrel next to her and reluctantly opening a text book. Stella hunched forward, cautiously pulling the notebook out of the bag. It looked like every other notebook, wire-bound, plain black cover, lined paper inside. But no other notebook was like this one. She opened the front cover, reading the writing as if it was the first time:
Mostly, it was the way she looked at me . . . I mean, you can’t really know someone after spending so little time with them, but - she looked at me with such obvious affection. I guess that’s what it feels like to be loved . . . Here I am, right in the middle of a major depressive episode and I’m just desert dry and barren. She looks at me and I’m overwhelmed and I can’t absorb all of it . . . it’s a flash flood of emotion.
It was cheesy and badly written, but it didn’t matter. It woke in her a longing for the impossible that was so strong, she could taste the bitterness in her mouth. Next to her, Maggie crossed and uncrossed her legs.
“Psst,” Maggie peeked around the carrel wall, “I’m starving.”
“Shhhhhhh,” hissed a student behind them.
Stella jammed the notebook in its satchel and followed Maggie outside. “Bet you’re bummed,” Maggie held the door for her.
“About what?” Stella tried to remember what they had been talking about. “Food,” she thought to herself, “Instagram, Ash. Oh, Ash.”
“I thought you had a thing for Ash. If he’s locked up in some psych ward, you can’t really make any progress with him. Although I guess the shoe thing was kind of a problem too.”
“That’s not the worst of it. I think we might be related, too,” Stella tried to remember how he said he was related to Mariposa. She wasn’t sure if she could remember how she was related to Mariposa.
“Woah,” Maggie stopped walking, a horrified look on her face. “You know what they say,” Maggie’s face smoothed over as she shrugged, “That sort of thing’s normal in other countries. I bet a lot of people accidentally marry relatives anyway.”
——
It always started the same. First, she could hear the scritch-scratching of mice in the walls. Then, they would appear, dressed in little jackets and nightcaps. As if that wasn’t disconcerting enough, birds would start to peck at the windows. Crows and bluejays, dressed in ties and top hats. Reluctantly, Stella opened the window. It was better than dealing with the holes they would leave in the screen. Let them fly around her room sewing for awhile. Yes, sewing, for that’s what they did, stitching together magic cloth with their beaks while the mice spun straw into golden thread. Stella sat glumly in her chair, “You all are the ones who started this anyway. Things were fine before I was enchanted.”
“Were they?” Mariposa poked her head in the window, “I seem to remember someone crying to me about a dance.”
“I was just being silly. I should have never listened to you,” Stella crossed her arms, her bottom lip trembling.
Mariposa hefted herself through the window, then sat panting on Stella’s bed. “This gets harder every year. It may be time I retire,” Mariposa fanned herself with her wings, “You know, time before this, the Prince Charming wanted me to teach Cinderella etiquette. He found her too backwards. Eventually I just told her she’d be better finding someone who loved her for who she was.”
Stella looked up at her in surprise, “You mean I’m not the only one you’ve done this to?”
“Oh no, Honey, I’ve got a full quota of Happy Endings to meet. I had one Cinderella who wouldn’t wear anything other than tennis shoes,” Mariposa removed a handkerchief from the front of her glittery gown, “Kids these days.”
“I don’t want anymore of this,” Stella waved her hand around gesturing at the gown the mice and birds were basting together.
Mariposa blotted her face, “First let me tell you about the position. Hours are pretty flexible and pay isn’t that bad. Best of all, you get wings.”
“What? Are you . . . asking me . . . to be a Fairy Godmother?”
“You obviously aren’t happy being a pursued woman, so why not take a job that gives you independence and travel? See the world, you know?” Mariposa tucked her hankie back into her bosom.
For a moment Stella could envision herself floating, her chair aloft, the campus in miniature below her. Suddenly she remembered Ash, and even in her imagination, she fell, her wings useless. Before she could wet her dry lips enough to ask about him, there was another tap at her window.
“Mari- Oh! Sorry Stella, I didn’t realize this was your room,” Ash popped his head back out the window. Baffled, Stella watched him hover on luminescent wings. Once she recovered she started laughing and couldn’t stop. He was wearing a sparkly green leotard that hugged his form in a way that was almost obscene.
Almost, although if she was honest, it was the best thing she’d seen all week.
AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER
------------------------------------------------------------
I've been sick off and on for the past month, which has made sleep and coughing a bit of a priority in my life. Writing, not so much. Actually pushing the button to post something I've already written, not a priority. Finally, while taking the littles to the indoor playground, I parked next to an abandoned high-heeled shoe. I tried to ignore it, but the kids kept pointing at it. "Someone lost it?" They asked me, "Someone lost their shoe?"
I hacked for a while, then had to agree, "Yes, someone lost their shoe." I had intended to take a picture of a shoe for this story, but I don't own any actual heels. Now here I was, standing in front of a solitary shoe, abandoned by Cinderella herself, for all I knew. So I did what any reasonable person would do, and snapped a few pictures with my phone. They look dark and gritty, but so does the city this time of year.
Even though I haven't been writing much lately, I should mention that I recently posted the penultimate chapter of Egregious. There's only one chapter left to post and then I'm going to see if I can convert the whole thing into ebook format so people can read it, you know, like a book. Google docs tells me that I actually did work on Midas and the Three Behrs this week (I did?), and at some point hopefully I'll actually finish that. Maybe.