Fairy Tales

by Margaret Noel

Jamie strolled through the tunnels with no particular destinationin mind. The gentle tapping of the pipes was the only sound thatbroke the silence. A smile flickered across her features as shethought of Pascal, the pipe master. If asked, Jamie was certainPascal preferred the rhythm of the pipes to human company orconversation. As she continued her wondering Jamie's thoughts turnedto other members of her tunnel family. Their backgrounds and storieswere as unique as the individuals who populated the tunnels. Like thethreads of a tapestry, they had been woven into the fabric of thecommunity she called home.

Looking about Jamie grinned, " Maybe more like a fairy tale." Hergrin widened as her thoughts conjured up visions of the tunnel's mostunique inhabitant. " Definitely a fairy tale."

With a destination finally decided on Jamie quickened her pace.Moments later she entered Father's study. Just as she had hopedFather was reading. Glancing about the warmly lit room she noted hisaudience consisted not only of the tunnel children. It seemed thatmany of the adults of the community had deemed listening to Father'sstories an enjoyable way to pass a Saturday evening. Even Catherinewas there, seated comfortably beside Vincent on a warn loveseat.

Jamie couldn't contain her chuckle when Father announced he wouldbe reading a selection of Fairy Tales. Her attention was drawn oncemore to the couple on the love seat. "They have no need of FairyTales," she mused. "They are a Fairy Tale come true."

Listening as Father read the tale of Cinderella, Jamie glancedonce more at everyone's favorite couple. Truly they were thepersonification of the handsome prince and his princess. "Will I everfind my prince charming?" she wondered.

The soothing sounds of Father's voice and her musings soon carriedJamie away to a world of her own imaging.

Jamie opened her eyes slowly, momentarily disoriented.

"Cinderella!" a shrill voice called again. "Cinderella, you lazy,ungrateful girl! Answer me!"

Realizing she was the one being addressed as Cinderella, Jamiefinally answered, "I'm awake!"

"Well it's about time. Get out here right now, there's work to bedone!" This demand was followed by the appearance of elderly womandressed in a long black dress. The severe bun in her hair accentedher stern features. Jamie was certain she had never seen the womanbefore.

Before Jamie even had time to react the woman had dumped a pile oflaundry on her bed. "These have to be washed and pressed beforetonight. Your stepsisters will need them for the ball."

"Ball?" Jamie repeated, utterly confused.

"Not only lazy but stupid too," the other woman snared. "Youremember the Ball. The one the Prince is giving tonight. He is goingto select his bride. All the single ladies of the Kingdom arerequired to attend."

Jamie brightened at this. "Maybe I'm dreaming," she thought. Tothe strange woman she replied "So I can go too!"

Cursing herself for letting too much information slip theStepmother nodded. "Provided you get all your chores completed and,"she added looking with distaste at the meager contents of Jamie'swardrobe, "provided you have something suitable to wear."

"Oh thank you Stepmother! I'll get dressed and start on thelaundry right away."

Without a backward glance the woman turned on her heel and sweptfrom the room. A moment later Jamie went to the entrance and lookedinto the hall. "It still looks like the tunnels," she said with ashrug. Certain her "stepmother" was gone she walked over to an oldrusty trunk. Lifting the cover she carefully removed a bundle wrappedin faded tissue paper. Inside the paper was a dress. It was old andmaybe a little out of fashion but to Jamie it was the most beautifuldress in the world. It had belonged to her mother and was the onepossession she had kept from the world above.

Rarely one given to flights of fancy Jamie decided to see wherethis fantasy would take her. "Who knows", she mused holding up thedress, "Maybe I'll meet my prince charming."

Dressing quickly, Jamie gathered the clothing that had been dumpedon her bed and headed for the laundry facilities. She was slightlybemused to note that certain tunnel dwellers had been carried intoher fantasy. William was the butler and Rebecca was the housekeeper.They all called her Cinderella. Hardest to accept were herstepsisters. They looked like Lena and Olivia, but that was where theresemblance ended. They were demanding, rude and mean spirited. Itseemed that nothing she did was good enough and each time she thoughtshe had finished her assigned tasks they found something else for herto do. Almost before she realized it, it was time to leave for theball. Jamie had not had time to get ready.

Taking in her dust covered clothing and dirt smudged face herstepsisters laughed. "I hope you're not planning on wearing that tothe ball," said one.

"Of course she is," snared the other. " She doesn't know anybetter!"

"It would appear you are not ready to go Cinderella."

Jamie hung her head, fighting back tears. "No Stepmother, I didnot have time to get ready."

"Well I did tell you the conditions under which I would allow youto attend the ball. If you failed to meet your obligations you haveno one to blame but yourself. Come along girls we must not keep thePrince waiting."

When they left Jamie ran back to her chamber. She flung herselfdown on her bed and burst into tears. "It's not fair," she sobbed."It's just not fair!"

"Of course it's not fair child," a soothing voice responded,"That's why I'm here."

Looking up, Jamie could hardy believe her eyes. The woman who hadspoken stood beside the bed. Her flowing white gown seemed to glowwith a luminescence all its own. For a moment Jamie was bereft ofspeech. "Mary?" she finally managed to utter.

"Oh no child I am your Fairy Godmother. I am here to see you getto the ball. Come we must hurry. The evening is passing quickly."

Jamie tried to interrupt. "But my dress isn't"

"Your dress isn't what?" asked the Fairy Godmother indicating tothe dressmakers dummy in the corner. Jamie's dress was beautifullydisplayed, as pristine as the day it was bought.

Before she could utter "bibbidy, bobbidy, boo" Jamie was dressedand on her way to the ball. She had expected Pascal, dressed in fulllivery and acting as her guide, to lead her above but he led herinstead to the doors of the Great Hall. As she approached the doorsswung open. The interior was illuminated by thousands of candleswashing everything in a soft glow. Couples were swirling about thedance floor to the lilting tones of a stringed quartet. In the centerof the floor were the King and Queen. Jamie vaguely registered thefact the couple were Catherine and Vincent.

As she entered the room all eyes turned to her. The dancingcouples parted and the music faded away. The Prince walked towardher. "My Lady" he said with a courtly bow. Reaching out he took herhand.

Jamie's eyes widened in shock, "Mouse!"

"Jamie," Mouse repeated, shaking her shoulder. "Wake up."

Jamie was momentarily confused. Regaining her senses she pushedMouse's hand away. "Stop shaking me. I'm not asleep."

"Okay good. Okay fine." Mouse muttered as he walked away. "Mousedidn't want you to miss the stories."

As Jamie watched him walk away she briefly reflected on herfantasy. "Mouse as Prince Charming, ridiculous--- isn't it?"

Looking at the faces around her she wondered if Father's FairyTales had triggered flights of fancy in any of the other tunneldwellers.

As the evening progressed and Father grew tired of reading othermembers of the tunnel community took his place. Even Mouse eagerlyshared an animated version of his favorite tale, "Ali Baba and theForty Thieves"

Catherine, seated comfortably in the circle of Vincent's arms,looked around the room, her thoughts echoing those of Jamie's. Thisragtag assembly had become her family. They were as vital to her asthe air she breathed. Since the death of her Father these times spentwith the tunnel community had become increasingly important. Theyserved as a reminder she was not alone that she had a home here ifshe desired it.

Before Vincent, and the events that had brought him into her life,a Saturday evening spent listening to Fairy tales would have beenconsidered ludicrous by her circle of friends. Smiling, she studiedthe profile of the man seated next to her. He was her savior and herreason for living. Because of him her life had taken on the qualityof the very stories they had been listening to.

She knew that to the people living here they were thepersonification of a fairy tale. She was their princess and Vincenttheir handsome prince. He was her prince charming of that there waslittle doubt. Privately the fairy tale she felt best-describedVincent was one by Hans Christian Anderson, "The Ugly Duckling". Inher minds eye she could see Vincent as the child he had been, raisedin a community where he was so obviously different. Just like theugly duckling, he wanted to fit in, to be one of the group, tobelong. Her heart ached for that sad child. Seeking to give comfort,Catherine squeezed his hand.

Vincent smiled. Sensing her flicker of sadness he asked, "What'stroubling you?"

Shaking off her melancholy Catherine stared into the caring blueeyes she loved. She smiled back. "It's nothing. I was just thinkinghow sad it is that ugly ducklings don't know they will grow up tobecome the most beautiful swans."

Vincent gave her a questioning look but she did not elaboratefurther. She settled herself once more against his chest. Unable tosee her face he rested his chin on the top of her head. His attentiondrifted from the stories being told once more by Father. He hadpolitely declined the request by the children to tell the tale of"Beauty and the Beast." While he knew his tunnel family consideredthe love he and Catherine shared to be that story come to life, itmade him sad. Yes just as Belle had accepted the beast and loved himin spite of his differences, Catherine loved him. Her love, however,would never change him into a handsome prince; he would remainforever a beast. Some things truly only happened in fairy tales.

Vincent sighed. He did not see himself as a handsome prince ifasked he would have compared himself to Victor Hugo's Quasimodo in"The Hunchback of Notre Dame." He could easily relate to people'srepulsion and fear. Just like the hunchback, he believed he was acreature best hidden from view. Vincent also understood thehunchback's willingness to do whatever was necessary to protect thewoman he loved even if it meant exposing himself to danger but thenwasn't that what all prince's did for their beloved?

Mentally he shrugged maybe he wasn't so different from pricecharming after all. Kissing the top of her head Vincent gatheredCatherine more snugly against his chest. Yes there were similaritiesand while some things could only happen in fairy tales Vincent wascertain that he and Catherine would live happily ever after.

THE END