1 Dewitched (16 page)

“Who was this man?” asks Shrink.

“The King’s Huntsman.” I do not tell her about our previous encounter.

“The same Huntsman you sent to kill Snow White?”

I nod weakly.

“Jane, are you okay?”

The madness of that night swells in my head. I press my fingers against my pounding temples and muster the strength to continue. The scene plays on despite how much I wish I could pull the curtains on it.

“The Huntsman, undeterred by my mother’s wrath, pounces on her, knocking her to the floor. ‘Take her away,’ commands The King, holding the still sobbing Snow White in his arms. The Huntsman yanks my mother to her feet, gripping her by both arms. The enraged King confronts her: ‘If I ever see you again, I shall destroy you!’”

Shrink gets in a question. “How did your mother react?”

I close my eyes and knead the back of my neck. The memory of my mother fighting The Huntsman as he hauls her out of the castle fills my head. Kicking. Clawing. Howling. Foaming. She’s become a monster.

“She says one day we’ll all be sorry,” I say, reopening my eyes.

I’ll never forget the venomous look in her eyes as she hissed those words.
Never.

 “Did you ever see her again?” asks Shrink.

I shake my head. I was happy she was out of my life.

Shrink heaves a sigh. “I must admit it’s quite a page-turner of a story. What happened next?” 

My sobbing subsides a little, and I switch over to past tense. “I married The King.”

“Why?” asks Shrink, a hint of surprise in her voice. 

“I had no choice. I was carrying his child.” 

“His second child,” notes Shrink. “What happened to the child?” 

 Sadness sweeps over me as I remember the pain, the blood…so much blood. “It was a very difficult birth. I survived, but the baby, he died.” 

I sob heavily again, burying my soaked face in my hands. My poor little baby! I held him for only a minute. But I’ll never forget the touch of his dewy skin or his silky curls. Or the heartbreaking expression on his tiny face that cried out for life, not death, as the midwife pulled him away.

I don’t know long I’ve been crying when Shrink’s voice sounds in my head. “So, Jane, you lost The King’s son. His only heir. How did he feel?” 

I raise my head slowly, remembering how much I wanted The King to hold and comfort me. Instead, he ranted, blaming me for the infant’s death. And then he punished me.

“He banned me from his bed.” My voice is hoarse from crying.

“That’s a lot for a young woman to handle. The loss of a child and spousal abandonment. Plus the trauma of your mother. How old were you?” 

“Thirteen.” So long ago yet now it feels like only yesterday.

 “You were practically a child yourself,” Shrink says with a gentle flutter of her wings. “How did you feel?” 

“I felt nothing.” Sadness had numbed my heart 

“What happened to The King’s other child, Snow White?” 

“She grew more and more beautiful every day. The King doted on her.” 

“But he didn’t dote on you, his wife.” She’s getting tough with me again. “How did you feel about that?” 

 “I was jealous. I thought The King loved her more because she was more beautiful than me.” 

 “What did you do?” 

 “I was alone most of the time. I spent hours standing in front of my mirror--”

Shrink interrupts me. “What mirror?”

“My mother’s. She had ordered The King’s men to move it from our flat to the castle.”

“Ah, the mirror from your childhood. Remember, Jane, there was
nothing
magic about it.”

My stomach muscles clench at her words. I still don’t believe her. I go on, taking precaution to make her think I do. I so badly want out of this place.

“Every day, I stood before it, making myself as beautiful as possible, until I
believed
I was the fairest of all. The King still paid no attention to me. The more he ignored me, the more time I spent with my mirror.”

Shrink nods. “Of course. The more he ignored you, the more you felt unloved. Continue.”

While I’m sure I’ve fooled her, her words make my blood run cold. I take a deep breath before going on. “The King went off to war and left me in charge of Snow White.”

“How did you feel about that?”

“At first, I resented it. Then I saw an opportunity to bring her down. So I dressed her in rags and treated her like a servant.” 

“Understandable. You modeled your parenting after your mother’s.” 

 
Like mother like daughter.
An image of Snow White on her hands and knees scrubbing floors flashes into my head. Singing no less! No matter how poorly I treated her, her beauty remained intact. In fact, with every passing day, her beauty was more evident. I was nervous that my little plan was backfiring.

“And tell me, what was going on between you and your mirror?” asks Shrink, interrupting my thoughts.

“My mirror continued to assure me that I was still the fairest of all.” I pause. “Then it gave me a scare.”

“How so?” asks Shrink sharply.

“On the day Snow White turned seven, it told me she would one day be fairer than me.”

“Correction.” Scowling, Shrink adjusts her spectacles. “Your mirror
didn’t
say a word. You were merely facing reality.”

“Right.” I nod like one of those bobblehead toys. Why can’t I believe that my mirror wasn’t magic?

 Shrink gives me a fleeting smile. “How did you feel when you realized that Snow White could possibly be more attractive than you?” 

“I panicked. I worked her harder. Fed her practically nothing.”

“You wanted her out of your life.”

I say nothing.

“Just like how your mother wanted you out of her life.”

“No! It’s not like that!” I shout back.

“I don’t understand, Jane. Explain to me what you mean.” 

 “I thought that if I could starve or work her to death, The King would finally love me.”

“In other words, Jane, you were still searching for love. Desperate for it, in fact.”

 I’m so confused. How did this suddenly get back to love?

“What happened to The King?” asks Shrink.

 “He died in battle.” 

“How did you feel?” 

“On one hand, I was glad he was dead because he didn’t love me. On the other, I regretted I never had the chance to make him love me.” 

“How did Snow White react?” 

“She cried a lot. She missed her father terribly.” 

“How did that make you feel, Jane?” 

“It made me hate her more.”
More than anyone or anything.

“Why, Jane? The King was dead. It no longer mattered.” 

 “She wrecked my life!”

Like how you
thought
you wrecked your mothers?”

Shrink’s question brings on another round of tears. I’m unbearably sad and perplexed. What if I’d never slept with The King? What if he had married my mother instead of me? What if I had never talked to my mirror? The what-ifs pile up like dirt, burying me alive. Would things have turned out a lot differently?

Shrink’s voice cuts through the madness. “Jane, listen, to me. You didn’t wreck your mother’s life. She wrecked it herself.” 

 “I just wanted her to love me!” I cry out, from somewhere deep inside my soul.

“Your mother was sick. She was incapable of loving you.”

Shrink’s words swirl around in my head. They do little to console me. No matter what I did, I could never own a place in my mother’s heart. My chest heaves in pain as I cry uncontrollably.

Shrink gently brushes away my tears. “Jane, you have to move beyond your past and come face to face with the person you've become. But
not
in a mirror.” 

The chime sounds. My sobs drown it out.

 “Time’s up, Jane. I’ll see you here tomorrow.” Like a flash of light, Shrink disappears.

Unable to move, I realize my vanity had blinded me. It wasn’t Snow White’s beauty I envied. It was her knowledge. She knew what love was.

***

I’m practically a zombie as I do lunch set-up with Winnie. She, in contrast, is like a wind-up toy.

 “Jane, I won’t be in group today,” she says cheerfully.

“How come?” I should feel a pang of jealousy, but I’m too worn out from my session with Shrink to feel anything.

“I’ll tell you later. I have a meeting with Shrink.” 

She’s skipping a meal to see Shrink? I don’t get it. On second thought, maybe that’s how she’s been losing weight.

***

“Who would like to share today?” begins Grimm.

 “I would,” says Pinocchio.

My heart skips a beat. Oh no! He’s going to tell everyone about last night!

He stands up. “I’m gay,” he announces.

Hook leaps up. “I’m not sitting next to some fag!”

Rage races through my bloodstream. “He’s a person! If you had half the heart he had, I’d find you appealing.” 

Hook snarls. “So, that’s it, Jane. You like your men to be pretty boys.” 

“Sit down, Hook!” orders Grimm.

 Hook reluctantly lowers himself to his chair, sitting as far away as possible from Pinocchio.

I gaze at the beautiful boy-man. His nose has returned to normal size. It’s exquisite. As if someone sculpted it to perfection.

 “Thank you for sharing, Pinocchio,” says Grimm, looking pleased. “Now that you’ve come out with the truth of who you are, you no longer have to live a life of lies.” 

Pinocchio’s eyes connect with mine. We exchange a smile, knowing we’ll always have our unspoken moment of truth.

Grimm’s eyes rotate around the group, stopping on each of us. “We all hide behind protective screens. Each of you must come forward--like Pinocchio bravely just did--and face the reality of who you really are.” 

Oz begins to sob. His face twitches; his body shakes.

“I’m not a great and powerful wizard. I’m a fake. My name is really Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkel Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs. I’m just a washed-up old magician.” 

“Ha! You’re a joke!” snickers Sasperilla.

Grimm ignores her. “Oscar, getting old is difficult. Sometimes, we need to reinvent ourselves. Rewriting our lives is good as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

The wannabe wizard hangs his head low. “I’ve let down so many people.” His spasms lessen.

“Oscar, you’ve acknowledged your problem. That’s healthy,” says Grimm.

He addresses the group as a whole. “Sometimes we put a pompous title in front of our name like Wizard, Queen, or Captain to make us feel self-important. It’s a tell-tale sign of an addict. They tend to have a tremendous sense of self-importance and an extremely low sense of self-esteem.” 

Hook and I exchange a nervous glance. It doesn’t take a genius to know Grimm’s referring to us.

“Are you implying
I’m
not important?” snaps Sasperilla.

“Sasperilla, have you ever thought you’ve sought to marry royalty to gain a title and self-importance?” 

Sasperilla is taken aback. I have to admit Grimm is good. He’s really getting to her.

“You are important, Sasperilla.” The skinny bitch smiles smugly. “Except not as important as you think.” Her smile falls off her face like a scab.

“You suffer from an enormous amount of insecurity. You starve yourself to give yourself a sense of empowerment.” 

Sasperilla fumes. “I’m not taking this bullshit from some dweeb who puts the self-important title ‘Doctor’ in front of his name. You’re as phony as the rest of us!”

Although I wouldn’t mind seeing Grimm come apart for once, he’s unfazed by her words.

“Sasperilla, I worked hard for my title; you, on the other hand, think you’re entitled. The truth is, you’re entitled to nothing. Not even to tomorrow.”

Grimm’s words shut Miss Bitchy-and-Entitled up.

“Would anyone else like to share?” asks Grimm.

 “I would.” A giant lump forms in my throat. I’ve just uttered the two words I’ve most dreaded saying in group.

 “What a joke!” snorts Sasperilla. “The selfish, self-centered bitch is actually going to share?”

Pinocchio springs to his feet. “You’re wrong! Jane is a beautiful, sensitive woman.” 

 “Like you’re an expert on women!” snickers the skinny bitch.

Poor Pinocchio looks like a hurt puppy. I want to rescue him.

 “Sh-shut up, Sasperilla!” roars Rump as in her face as he can get without touching her.

She cowers in her chair.
Thanks, Rump.

Slowly, I stand up. I clear my throat to free the words. “I have a problem. I’m addicted to beauty.”

I’ve finally said it.

“Puh-lease. That’s a problem? Every woman is,” sneers Sasperilla.

Pinocchio gazes at me with his soulful eyes. He gives me the courage to continue.

 “My addiction to beauty drove me to do terrible things.”

 “Can you elaborate?” asks Grimm.

 “I tried to kill my stepdaughter Snow White. I was jealous of her,” I say tearfully.

 The entire group is in a frozen state of shock. Except for Sasperilla who leaps out of her seat. 

“I’m getting out of here before she does something terrible to me!” she shrieks.

Grimm shoves her back onto her chair. “Don’t move, Sasperilla!”

She shrivels like a child who’s about to get spanked.

Grimm refocuses his attention back on me.

“Jane, are you sorry you tried to kill Snow White?” 

If he’d asked me that question when I first got to Faraway, the answer would have been a loud and clear “NO!” Now, I’m unsure.

 “Well, Jane, yes or no?” 

 “YES!” I finally blurt out, sobbing uncontrollably. “I wouldn’t be here! Would I? I wouldn’t be so fu…” Sobs trump my words, and my voice trails off.

 “Jane, you’ve made a tremendous breakthrough!” Grimm steps behind me and gently squeezes my heaving shoulders. “Group’s over for today.” 

One by one, my fellow inmates follow him out, staring at me as I weep. All except Pinocchio who sits down beside me and holds my hand. My misery gives way to an unexpected lightness of being. Peace.

***

At dinner, I tell Winnie about my breakthrough. She’s all ears, and I’m surprised how much calmer I am. I feel closer to her than I ever have. After a proud hug, she eagerly tells me her news.