Beastly

by Alex Flinn

  “And you led me to believe you were blind. Things change sometimes.”

  Now Will was laughing, dancing around the room. “Yes! Things change! I can’t believe it. And Lindy? Is this you? Have you come back to Adrian, then?”

  “Yes. I still don’t understand it, completely, but I’m happy. So happy.” She hugged Will, and Pilot, who was usually well behaved, seemed to realize that his services as guide dog weren’t needed because he jumped up and down, barking and licking everyone’s hands. So Lindy hugged him too.

  When we finished jumping around, celebrating, I said, “Where’s Magda?”

  If Kendra was true to her word, something should have happened to Magda too. She should have been reunited with her family. But now I didn’t want her gone. I needed Magda, wanted her to stay. I ran down the hallway to Magda’s room, Lindy following me. I pounded on the door. There was no answer.

  When I opened the door, the room was empty.

  “No!” I practically crushed Lindy’s hand in my grip. She gave me a weird look, and I remembered what a great day it was, what a perfect day. Still, I said, “I didn’t get to say good-bye. She left without saying good-bye.”

  “Magda?” When I nodded, Lindy said, “Oh, Adrian, I’m sorry.”

  I started to leave the room. But suddenly I caught a glow from something on the bed. I walked toward it.

  It was a silver mirror, just like the one I’d smashed the night before on the subway. But this mirror was not smashed, and looking into it, I saw my reflection, perfect as I remembered—straight blond hair, blue eyes, even a tan. When I opened my mouth, perfect lips moved over white teeth. And at my side was the perfect girl, the perfect girl for me.

  I said, “I want to see Magda.”

  At once, Kendra’s reflection appeared.

  3

  “Where is she?” I said to Kendra.

  “Meet me on the roof,” she said. “The sun’s about to rise.”

  We went to the fifth floor. I hadn’t been there much lately. Now, being there with Lindy, I remembered all the lonely days I’d spent there, sitting on the sofa, and the day we’d been there together too. It was wondrous when life gave you a second chance. I opened the window and hoisted myself onto the roof. Then I put out an arm for Lindy.

  The roof was flat with a ledge around it, so we could walk. The sun was rising. New York City at sunrise is one of the most beautiful places in the world. People make a big deal about the skyline, but it’s nothing like watching the pink sun seep through the buildings, especially when you’re holding hands with the girl you love.

  I kissed that hand. “Look. Is this the most incredible morning or what?”

  But Lindy wasn’t looking at the sunrise, or at me. Instead, she was looking off to the side. I followed her gaze and understood.

  Kendra was there. It was the first time I’d seen her since the spell. She was beautiful, as she’d been that day, her hair flying purple and green and black around her face, her robes black. And behind her was a flock of crows, stretching across the sides of the roof, black and green and purple in the rising sun.

  “Kyle, you look great.”

  “Adrian. I prefer Adrian.”

  “Me too, actually. Suits you.” She stepped up to Lindy. Or rather, she floated. It almost seemed like she was flying. “And Lindy, we haven’t met, but I’m Kendra.”

  “Kendra, the…”

  I’d filled Lindy in on all the details of Kendra while we’d waited in the police station that night.

  “You can say it,” Kendra said. “The witch. I know what I am. There are some who would call me a wicked witch. I’m the one responsible for the spell on Adrian.”

  “And are you proud of that?”

  “A little bit. He’s a better person than when he started.”

  Lindy didn’t look so sure, but I nodded, knowing it was true.

  “But I’ll admit my previous spells weren’t as successful. In my youth, I tended to be impulsive—turn someone into a frog first, ask questions later. The other witches got on me, said that by using my powers too frequently, I might draw attention to witchcraft and set off a wave of witch hunts as big as Salem. As punishment, I was sent to New York City to work as a servant. I was told not to use my powers at all.”

  “But you did,” I guessed.

  She nodded. “I did because I was placed in the home of a teenage boy so horrible and insensitive that I felt I had to teach him a lesson. I cast a spell.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Beside me, Lindy squeezed my hand.

  “The other witches were appalled. I had cast a spell—a big, obvious one that could end up in an incident like…oh, say, a beast on the loose in the New York subway system. They were particularly concerned that I’d chosen the son of a news personality as my victim.”

  “Yeah, that sucked of you.”

  Kendra rolled her eyes. “So they said I would stay with him forever, in the form of that same family servant.”

  “Magda?” I got it. “So Magda isn’t real?”

  “She’s real.” With a wave of her hand, Kendra transformed. Now she was Magda. “She is I, I am she.”

  “Wow,” I said. “This is…I thought you…I mean, Magda was my friend.”

  “I am, my love,” Kendra, now Magda, said. “I cared about you from the first and wanted you to be happy. I could see the sadness in you that made you not see the true beauty of life. That was why I did what I did.”

  “And what about Will? Is he a witch too?”

  Magda shook her head. “No. I knew about Will, that he would be kind to you and teach what you needed to learn. And I, a humble servant, suggested to your father that he find a blind student to tutor you. Will needed a job and now, because of your unselfish wish, he has regained his sight.”

  “But there was another part to that wish. I wished you…that Magda could be reunited with her family.”

  “And so I was—at midnight, last night.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I wish you luck, Adrian.” She placed her hands on my shoulder and on Lindy’s, and I felt a bolt of electricity, like when you accidentally put your finger between an electrical plug and the socket. I wondered if she was putting a spell on us. I looked at Lindy to see if she was morphing into a hyena or something, but she seemed okay.

  “Luck?” I said.

  “Not that you’ll need it. You have earned your love far more than most couples your age. Unlike most, you really know each other and are thoughtful of each other. When you allowed Lindy to leave and return to her father, I knew it would work out.”

  “Wish you’d clued me in.”

  She ignored this. “And now, through your wish for Magda, I am reunited with my family.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can’t talk anymore. They are waiting.”

  She waved her arm and disappeared. At least, I thought she had. But Lindy pointed down, and that’s when I realized that a crow occupied the exact spot where Magda had been standing. It was a beautiful crow, large and sleek, with black wings reflecting purple and green in the rising sun. She hopped over and joined the others and, as one, they rose over our heads and east, toward daylight.

  “Wow,” Lindy said when they were out of sight. “That sucks.”

  “What does?”

  “I was waiting—politely—for her to stop talking. But if I’d known the nice lady was going to transmogrify into a crow, I’d have been quicker about making a request.”

  “What kind of request?”

  “Well, I’m really happy that we’re together, of course. But I loved you the way you were. Before. I thought Kyle Kingsbury was cute and all, but Adrian was the one I fell in love with. I didn’t see you as a monster, not after a while anyway. I saw you as unique. Special. I think I loved you almost from the first. I just didn’t know.”

  “So you want me to be a beast?” I said.

  She shrugged. “I guess that’s not really practical, huh? I mean, it is
easier to go to the movies and stuff with your boyfriend if it’s…um, not a news event.”

  “Easier to apply to colleges too.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So what’s the problem?” I said. “I’m the same, no matter how I look.”

  “I guess. But I was sort of thinking that maybe she could change a couple things about you, since she’s a witch.”

  “Like what?”

  “Basically, you’re tall, blond, and perfect.”

  “I don’t know about perfect.”

  “Ten out of ten shallow high school girls surveyed would agree you’re perfect.”

  I thought of Sloane. “Okay, let’s assume for the sake of argument that I’m perfect. So?”

  “That’s why I wanted the changes.”

  “Like what? You said I’m perfect.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. A bump on the nose, or maybe a wart. Twenty pounds in the gut or maybe a big zit on your forehead.”

  “I see.” I took Lindy’s hand. “And why would you want that?”

  “Because you’re perfect. And I’m…well, not. Guys who look perfect generally don’t go out with girls who are, you know, average. Maybe Adrian King loved me, but will Kyle Kingsbury stay around, or can he do better?”

  “Better?” I went from holding her hand to hugging her. “Lindy, you loved me when I wasn’t even human. You kissed me when I had no lips. You saw what was deep down inside me when I wasn’t even sure about it myself. Believe me, there’s no way I could do better. I think you’re perfect.”

  “Oh, if you say so.” But she was smiling.

  “I do. I’ll look whatever way you want me to. But do you think this happens to everyone—being turned into a beast, then changed back because of true love? Most people wouldn’t even believe it could happen, but it happened to us. Magic. For the rest of our lives, we’ll go to school and have jobs and eat breakfast and watch TV, but we’ll know that even if we don’t see it, there’s magic in the world. Face it, this is happily ever after, true love like in fairy tales.”

  I kissed her again. She kissed me back. We stood there, kissing, until the sun was fully up in the sky and the morning sounds of the city had begun.

  Then we went downstairs and made breakfast.

  EPILOGUE

  Senior Year

  “Hey, your name’s on this.” Lindy’s tone is derisive as she passes back copies of the Tuttle homecoming court ballot.

  Yeah, Lindy and I went back to Tuttle. It took some string pulling on Dad’s part to get us back in, but our classmates welcomed us back into the fold—that is, if whispering behind my back that I’d flunked out of boarding school, been involved in a scandalous affair with the headmaster’s daughter, or had a nervous breakdown can be considered welcoming back. At Tuttle, it probably was.

  “He must have had a nervous breakdown,” I heard Sloane Hagen say one day when Lindy and I passed her in the hall. “Or maybe he took a blow to the head. Why else would he go out with a nothing like her?” Apparently, she’d been serious about my calling her if I transformed back. She’d mentioned several times that she was waiting for a call. She was still waiting.

  Now I look at the ballot. Sure enough, there’s my name. “Must be a typo.”

  “Right.”

  “I haven’t seen these people in two years. Why would they nominate me for homecoming court?”

  “It couldn’t possibly be based on looks, right?”

  “Maybe so. Whatever.” I crumple the ballot into a ball and try to score a basket with it in the trash can. I miss and head to the front of the room.

  But the teacher reaches it first. “Mr. Kingsbury, I believe this is yours,” he says. “In the future, there will be no three-pointers in my AP English class.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “There’s no special treatment around here, Kyle. For anyone.”

  “Yes, sir.” I salute, then shove the ballot into my pocket and head for my desk. “Jerk,” I whisper to Lindy.

  Lindy looks at the teacher. “What Kyle means is, he’s very sorry, and it won’t happen again.”

  Around us, people are giggling. I notice that hardly anyone’s filling out their homecoming ballots. I count three wastebasket basketballs, waiting to be thrown as soon as the teacher turns his back again, two paper airplanes, and one origami piece, not including the people who are just letting the ballot sit while they text-message. “We don’t have to go to the dance, by the way,” I tell Lindy. “It’s pretty lame.”

  But Lindy says, “Of course we’re going. I want a real corsage from you—any color rose you like—and I have the perfect dress.”

  The teacher must have decided we’d spent enough time not filling out our ballots because he starts class, and we go over an hour of English lit that Lindy and I, at least, already know from our years of homeschooling with Will.

  On the way out, I corner the teacher. “Nice guy, ragging on us.”

  Mr. Fratalli shrugs. “Hey, you wouldn’t want people thinking I was showing favoritism just because we happen to live in the same house.”

  “I wouldn’t mind.” But I’m joking and put my hand up for a high five. “See you later, Will?”

  “Much later,” Mr. Fratalli—Will—says. “I have school tonight. Don’t want to have to teach little snots like you forever.”

  Will’s going to school too. Grad school, so he can be an English professor. But I made sure my dad wrote him a great recommendation to teach at Tuttle for now.

  “Oh, yeah,” I say. “Well, we’ll keep the pizza warm for you.”

  “I’d think you’d be studying too hard to have time even to order pizza.”

  “Then you’d think wrong. This class is easy compared to what we used to do.”

  After school, Lindy and I usually take the subway to the house in Brooklyn where we still live with Will. My dad offered to move me back into his Manhattan apartment after my transformation, but I think we were both relieved when I said no. I wanted to have someplace for Lindy to stay. So now we all stay together.

  “Do you want to walk over to Strawberry Fields?” I say to Lindy as we leave Tuttle. We do that some days, to look at the garden.

  But today, Lindy shakes her head. “I want to go see something at home.”

  I nod. Home. It’s still such a bizarre and beautiful word for me, to have a home where I can come and go, a place where people actually like me.

  When we reach the house, Lindy disappears upstairs. Her room is still on the third floor, and I hear noises from above. I pick up the mirror we always keep in a place of honor in the living room, the repaired mirror that Kendra brought the day the spell was broken. “I want to see Lindy,” I tell it.

  But as I knew would happen, I see only my own face. The magic is over, but its effects will live forever. There was definitely magic in Lindy and me getting together.

  Lindy comes down a few minutes later.

  “Where is it?” she says.

  “Where’s what?” I’m polishing off a box of Cheetos and a glass of milk. I’ve finally figured out where everything is in the kitchen.

  “Ida’s dress,” Lindy says. “I’m going to wear it to the dance.”

  “That’s what you want to wear?”

  “Yeah. What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing.” I take another handful of Cheetos.

  “Is it because it’s not new?”

  I shake my head, remembering my comment to Kendra. “Around here people buy new dresses for a dance.” I want to slap that guy except—oh yeah—he was me. “It’s just…I’m not sure I want other people to see…to know about…never mind. It’s fine.”

  “Are you sorry you’re not going with some homecoming queen girl or something?”

  “Yeah, right. No. No. Stop asking me stupid questions. It’s fine.”

  She smiles. “Then where’s my dress?”

  I look away. “In my room, under my mattress.”

  She gives me a funny look. “Why would it be there? W
ere you wearing it? Is that why you don’t want me to wear it?” She’s kidding, but even so…

  “No.” I start downstairs to get the dress. I don’t expect her to follow me, but she does. I walk through my rooms, past the rose garden, then lift the mattress and take the green satin from the space between it and the box spring. I remember the days when I used to smell her perfume, though I would never tell her about it in a million years. Still, I remember the first day I saw the dress, the first day I saw her in it, being so afraid to touch her, but hoping maybe she’d love me. “Here. Put it on.”

  She examines it. “Oh, it has a few beads hanging. Maybe you’re right about not wearing it.”

  “You can get it fixed. Take it to the dry cleaner. But first put it on.” Suddenly, I very much want to see her in it again.

  A moment later, she’s wearing it, and it is exactly as I remember, the cool green satin contrasting with the warm pink of her skin. “Wow,” I say. “You’re beautiful.”

  She examines herself in the mirror. “You’re right. I’m gorgeous.”

  “And so modest. Now I have to ask you something.”

  “What’s that?”

  I hold my hand out to her. “May I have this dance?”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  There are many animal bridegroom tales from different countries and cultures. In them, “the Beast” is presented, variously, as a snake, a lizard, a lion, a monkey, a pig, or a creature with body parts of various animals, such as a winged snake. He has angered a witch or fairy and been cursed in this way until he finds true love, or a wife. In most versions “Beauty” comes to live with, or marries, the Beast because her father has stolen an item (usually a flower). The Beast is kind to Beauty and she realizes she loves him more than she initially believed. Her realization of this causes the curse to be broken. In one version, the courtship of Beauty and the Beast is through letters, and presumably, the Beast is an impressive writer. But typically, he is a simple man/beast. In several versions, including one by the Brothers Grimm, the Beast is human by night but an animal by day, and in this way, the tale is similar to the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche, where Psyche marries handsome Cupid, but since he only comes to her after dark, her sisters persuade her that he is a monster. Cupid and Psyche is perhaps the earliest variant on this tale.