Authors: Pamela Ditchoff
"The Grimm psychologist vows Cindy's story is about virtue being rewarded, regardless of appearance.
Even a ten-year-old kid reading a storybook or watching the Disney flick knows deep in her pubescent heart, that the prince would never have loved Cindy while she was dirty and dressed in rags.
Are you sufficiently recovered to watch the big moment?"
Croesus wags his tail, and Elora waves her hand over the crystal ball.
Paul appears, his hands held up in a questioning manner.
Have you no other daughter?
Luther says,
No, except little Cinderella, daughter of my deceased wife, who cannot possibly be the bride.
Paul's eyes twinkle; he claps his hands together and shouts,
Fetch her!
Lavinia, sputters,
She is too dirty; I dare not let her be seen
.
He sidles up to Lavinia.
You're a sly one,
he purrs,
you're a little minx.
Let me see the dainty feet you're hiding under those petticoats.
Before Lavinia melts into a giggling puddle, Luther fetches Cinderella, tells her to wash up and meet the prince. Paul glances down at her wooden clogs and his lips twitch in a most uncharming manner.
Cinderella, eyes downcast, sits on a stool, and Paul hands her the gold shoe.
The wooden clog clunks to the floor and Paul gasps rapturously.
He falls to his knees, takes the shoe from Cinderella's hand and slips it onto her foot.
It fits to a shade, and Paul shudders with pleasure.
Lavinia, Sweetness, and Light turn purple with rage, and Luther slides out the back door.
Paul sweeps Cinderella off her feet and the pair rides away to begin their happily ever after.
Elora snaps off the crystal ball.
"The Grimm version of this tale says that after the wedding took place, the two sisters were smitten with blindness as a punishment for their wickedness. Wrong.
They were smitten by Mother.
Why would she punish the girls and not their mother, you may ask?
Because Mother wanted Lavinia to witness the undisguisable disfigurement of her daughters, to be compelled to wait upon them hand and foot, and watch as they aged into spinsters.
Quit shaking!
I'm not going to show you what happened.
I'll just say that when Mother finally lit on Cindy's shoulder that morning as she and Paul entered Charming Castle, her beak was stained red as a slaughterhouse floor."
*
*
*
Chapter Thirteen
Golden Slippers
It is nearing late August in the Charmed Kingdom, the dog days of a typically short, hot Grimm summer.
Queen Cinderella rarely leaves the palace during daylight hours, King Paul is sun-browned as a fresh fig, and Beauty is large with child.
She has searched every palace room for her mirror except Cinderella's own bedchamber.
Of course, Prince Runyon has not arrived.
Her patience wearing thin, Beauty persuades Cinderella to provide her an escort through the city to look for Runyon.
She climbs heavily into the royal carriage where Cinderella sits, cocooned in veil.
Mother clings to a golden perch on the roof.
No sooner does the carriage enter the city than charming citizens pour from cottage doorways and line the pink crystal road. The two coachmen hop to the road and walk alongside the carriage to discourage anyone from approaching the windows, from which Cinderella waves a gloved hand.
Beauty leans out the other window, searching the crowd for Runyon, but his face is not among the admirers. The streets grow shorter as they near the tip of the heart, and Beauty's heart grows tighter.
"Charming Cul-de-sac is the last street, Princess Beauty,"
Cinderella squeaks.
Beauty anxiously scans the circle for Runyon's wheat blonde hair and arrogant stance.
She sees only unfamiliar faces hoping for a rare glimpse of the queen.
However, as the carriage turns to head back to the castle, Beauty spies a narrow dirt lane running off the right curve of the circle.
Scuttling down the lane is an old woman, back bent, legs bowed, a walking stick in her right hand, and a red kerchief tied around her hair.
"Stop the carriage!" Beauty shouts.
"I must follow that woman."
"You don't want to go down that lane," Cinderella squeals, her veil aquiver.
"It's the entrance to Ash Grove.
Anyhow, the carriage won't fit."
"I'm sure that woman has special powers," Beauty protests.
"If anyone can find Runyon, she can."
Mother takes flight and flaps toward the old crone.
Beauty watches Mother descend, the old woman whirl about, aim her stick and freeze the raven in mid-flap.
With a cackle, she disappears behind a cider mill.
Beauty slowly steps out of the carriage and begins the long walk down the length of the lane.
She is surprised to find the lane is shaded not by ash trees, but by ancient oaks.
She passes under the suspended raven and looks behind the cider mill, but the old woman is gone.
When Beauty has waddled half way back toward the carriage, she finds Cinderella in a dither.
She has tottered to the spellbound Mother and plucked her from the air.
The queen cowers beneath her veil, emitting squeaks only dogs can hear.
Beauty does not attempt to comfort Cinderella; a lesson she learned in Snow White's company.
"Cinderella, the bird is alive.
Its chest is moving." Beauty says matter-of-factly.
Cinderella stops keening and peeps, "Are you certain?"
"Yes.
I
am
certain.
If you move your veil aside . . . "
"No!" Cinderella shrieks, stepping backward.
"They're watching me."
Beauty looks to either side of the road.
There are no charming subjects lining this lane nor charming white cottages trimmed in pink or red.
The homes are tall and stately, though weathered; no picket fences divide neighbors.
Rather than trim garden beds, stalks of corn heavy with ears stand alongside riotous sweet pea vines.
Broad shady front porches are populated by silver-haired subjects exclusively.
Cinderella whispers harshly.
"All the old people of Charmed Kingdom live in Ash Grove.
When Paul's parents died, and we became king and queen, we wanted to make the kingdom more charming.
The old wouldn't have it.
Did they appreciate the charming cottages we built and the charming laws we passed?" Cinderella squeaks.
"No.
They refused to move from their ugly old houses and . . ."
"Yoo-hoo," a voice calls behind them.
"Is that our little queen?
Yoo-hoo.
Cinderella.
It's Maisee."
Beauty turns toward the voice and is shocked as Cinderella suddenly shuffles her feet with enough speed to jerk Beauty forward three steps.
However, her speed is not sufficient to elude the woman who called from her porch, climbed down her steps, and is rushing to catch up.
"I can't believe it's Cindy," Maisee whistles through toothless gums.
The braids encircling her head are the yellow white of aged ivory.
She wears a sleeveless cotton dress and leather sandals.
Her face is as weathered and lined as her old house and is, Beauty thinks, the merriest face she has ever seen.
"Is this girl your daughter-in-law?"
Cinderella whines.
"I'm a visitor at Charming Castle.
My name is Beauty."
"Cindy and I used to jump rope together.
I still do it, but I jump with my grandchildren now," Maisee squints and peers at Cinderella's veil.
"Why don't you both come up to the porch for a glass of lemonade.
Dorothy and Florence are up there.
You remember them, don't you, Cindy?"
When the silence becomes too awkward for Beauty to bear, she says, "Thank you for your kind offer.
Cinderella has just had an upsetting experience, so I'm afraid we must decline."
"Oh, dear.
The bird, huh?
Saw it happen.
Don't worry, Cindy.
It'll be right as rain in an hour.
Just one of Elora's trifling spells.
I heard her curse,
Bricklebrit
."
Pieces of memory fall into place like tumblers on a lock: the old lady wearing a red scarf in the ramshackle coop who explained the menarche; the old lady who sold Snow White's father the magic mirror; the old lady wearing a red kaffiyah who rescued Rapunzel and her children; the old lady in a red wimple at Rosamond's christening.
Beauty grabs Cinderella's arm. "We must return to the castle now, where we
will
find my mirror."
*
*
*
Because she swooned three times on the way back to Charming Castle, Cinderella is carried to her chamber and placed upon her heart-shaped bed.
Mother is laid in a jewel-studded golden cage beside the bed.
The room is enormous and cluttered; hundreds of glass jars, pots and pitchers top dozens of dressers.
The centerpiece of the room, a vanity with a large convex mirror, holds a bottle labeled
Violet Water
, which Beauty decides will do to cool Cinderella's face.
Beauty searches the vanity top for a handkerchief with which to apply the water.
She opens the first drawer jammed with hair ornaments and the second drawer jammed with waxes and colored creams.
In the third drawer, she sees her own exasperated face staring back at her--her lost magic mirror!
"Uh-oh," Cinderella squeaks from her bed.
Beauty grabs the mirror and holds it before her face.
"Magic mirror, it's
a hassle
waiting here at
Charming Castle.
Show me now,