Hands raised, black lightning shooting from her fingertips, Grandma flew on her broomstick at Bobbi. Bobbi soared upward, wings flapping, and Grandma chased her.
Julie didn’t move. She’d nearly been . . . If Grandma hadn’t come . . .
Boots wound around Julie. “Unless you’re planning to burst into song, which I don’t advise, we should get off this stage,” he said under his breath so the microphone wouldn’t hear him.
Julie got to her feet. She couldn’t leave. The fact that Bobbi had tried to stop her . . . That meant she was on the right track. It meant that she had been right. She could affect the Wild! She had to at least try. Her hands shook. She wrapped them around the stalk of the microphone.
“Um, Julie?” Boots said. “Hostile mob? Remember? We should exit, stage left.”
“You have to listen to me!” she shouted into the mike. At that moment, above the castle, Grandma shot a shower of sparks into the night sky. Stunned by the sight, the mob fell silent for an instant. An instant was all Julie needed. She plunged into the silence: “I can tell you how to stop the Wild!”
Now that caught the crowd’s attention.
She took a deep breath. “I stopped the Wild six weeks ago. My mother and father stopped it five hundred years ago. My name is Julie. I’m Rapunzel’s daughter.” There. She’d said it. Her secret was out. And the crowd was listening.
Still under his breath, Boots said, “Zel is so going to kill you.”
Julie ignored him and kept talking. She told them how the Wild had escaped from under her bed, how she’d gone into the fairy-tale woods to rescue her mom, how instead she’d found her dad inside a castle with a magic door—a motel room door. She told them how she’d chosen to walk through the door to the wishing well at the Wishing Well Motel, even though it meant leaving her dad behind. Lastly, she told them about the wish she’d made that had returned the world to normal and had transformed the Wild back to a tangle of vines under her bed.
She finished, and the mob was silent. At least three news cameras swept the crowd, clearly taping, recording and broadcasting everything she’d just said.
Julie leaned into the microphone again. “This is how we defeat the Wild: we change it. Tell this story to each other. Tell it to everyone you meet. If it’s told often enough, then the Wild will be forced to include a door to the well in all of its castles. And then someone can walk through the door and wish this all away!”
Had she reached them? Did they believe her? Would they retell the story to each other? She hoped so. She had nothing else to say, and her secret was out. Either this would work or it wouldn’t. She’d done the best she could. She switched off the microphone.
The crowd began to murmur.
Above Space Mountain in Tomorrowland, Julie saw sparks fly like out-of-control fireworks, lighting up the night. Was Grandma winning or losing? She couldn’t tell, and there wasn’t anything that Julie could do to help her. “Come on,” Julie said to Boots. “Let’s go save Mom.” Taking a deep breath, she climbed down from the podium and walked across the stage toward the castle.
People stared, and then they parted for her. With Boots trotting beside her, Julie walked into the archway, past the police who held Sleeping Beauty, and up to the castle door. Now what? She had to get inside. She felt her back itch as she tried not to think about the thousands of people staring at her.
Boots rose up onto his hind legs. “Excuse me,” he said to the two men who had been trying to knock down the castle door. “Yes, you. Can you please open that for us? Rapunzel is inside, and we’d like to rescue her.”
The nearest man opened and closed his mouth twice.
“What?” Boots said. “I said ‘please.’ Oh, and can I have your hat? I’m feeling a little naked here, people.”
A policeman plucked the hat off the man’s head and tossed it to Boots. The cat swept him a bow and then placed the hat on his head over his ears. He gestured toward the door, and Julie stepped back.
The mob was silent as the men bashed down the castle door.
“That was brave,” Julie said to Boots. The mob could have panicked at the sight of a talking cat.
“I assume you have a plan for once we get inside?” he whispered.
“Not really, no,” she said.
Boots sighed. “I hate being your sidekick.”
Despite everything, Julie smiled. “Good to see you too.”
With a loud crack, the wood around the doorknob splintered. Leaning their shoulders against it, the men shoved it open. One of them started to step through into the castle, but the other grabbed his arm. “You don’t know what’s in there. There could be more of them.” He nodded over at Boots.
Boots fluffed his tail and trotted toward the door. “Uh, thanks,” Julie said as she passed by them.
“Julie!” a voice called from the other side of the archway. She turned her head and saw Rose—Sleeping Beauty—still held by police. Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes were wild. “Watch out for spinning wheels! And swans!”
Spinning wheels? Swans? Poor Rose. Look what her fairy tale had done to her. She wasn’t even making sense. Please, Julie thought, let my plan work! “I’ll stop the Wild,” Julie called to her. “I promise!” She waved to her, the police, and the crowd as she and Boots stepped inside the Disneyland castle.
Chapter Sixteen
Sleeping Beauty’s Castle
Once inside, Julie came face-to-face with six-foot-tall presents with oversized ribbons on top, human-sized snow globes, and an apple as large as a beach ball. Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, and Goofy heads sat on shelves. “It’s like the inside of a giant toy box,” she whispered to Boots.
Trays of eye shadow, tubes of lipstick, canisters of hair spray, and dozens of combs were strewn across a counter. Glittering costumes hung from rows of racks. Fluorescent bulbs reflected in the mirrors. This must be a dressing room for the people who dressed up as Disney characters every day. She had expected something more, well, castle-like than costumes and makeup. She’d also been hoping for some sort of sign to where Mom and Dad were. Something like: “Dungeon This Way” or “Prisoners Here!”
Boots trotted across the room to a row of closet doors and sniffed at the bottom of the first one. At the third door, he halted. “Here!”
“You smell them?” Julie hurried across the room.
“Do I look like a bloodhound?” he said. “I heard a frog ribbet.”
Dad! “Dad, Mom, we’re coming!” She rattled the door handle. Locked! Julie looked around for something heavy to bash against the door, like a fire extinguisher or a mallet or . . . a spinning wheel?
Julie froze. In a dimly lit corner of the room, half obscured by costume racks, a woman sat at a spinning wheel. The wheel clicked as she pushed the foot pedal, and the wheel began to spin.
Uh-oh, Julie thought.
“Ribbet!” she heard through the door. Quickly, Julie grabbed the nearest chair and threw it against the door. “Boots, help!” She pounded the door again.
“How?” he asked. “Cats aren’t exactly known for their kung fu skills.”
When the wheel was whirring full speed, the woman stood up and stepped forward into the greenish fluorescent light. Seeing her face, Julie stopped and stared. The chair slipped out of her hands and clattered to the floor. “Linda?” she said. Linda the librarian? Shouldn’t she be in Northboro? Shouldn’t she be in the Wild? What was she doing in California inside Sleeping Beauty’s castle at a spinning wheel? “What are you doing here?”
“I am fixing what your mother broke,” Linda said. “I’m fixing the stories.” She smiled at Julie, her eyes shining. “Soon, everything will be as it should be.”
On the other side of the door, Julie heard frantic ribbeting and a soft splat sound—it sounded as if her dad was hurling his frog body against the door. She took a step backward. Dad wouldn’t be doing that if Linda was here to help. Julie had a very bad feeling about this.
“I had thought it would be enou
gh for the Wild to return temporarily, but it wasn’t,” Linda said. “All the new stories didn’t change the world enough.”
“Uh, Julie,” Boots said. “I think she’s evil.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” Julie said. Rumpelstiltskin had said that Bobbi had a boss. He’d said there was someone worse. Julie just hadn’t expected it to be someone she knew. Linda still looked like the perky, friendly children’s librarian that Julie had grown up knowing. She had plain brown hair and an ordinary round face with chipmunk cheeks. She wore a preppy brown sweater set and charcoal gray pants. What kind of villain wore a sweater set?
Linda looked offended. “I’m not evil.”
“You’re trying to take over the world,” Julie pointed out. “That’s classic evil behavior.” She tried to sound brave, but her voice shook, betraying her.
Linda laughed. “I’m not taking over the world,” she said. “I’m restoring it. I’m bringing back magic and wonder and justice and adventure and true love.”
“Evil and insane,” Boots hissed, backing up. “Always a charming combination.”
Linda frowned at Boots. “I know my actions may seem a little drastic . . .”
“A little?” Boots said sarcastically. “If by ‘little,’ you mean King Kong caliber.”
“ . . . but we were never meant to live out of the Wild. We—your mother, your father, the fairy godmother, me—are all pieces of the Wild.”
Mom was not a piece of the Wild. She was herself. She was more than the fairy-tale Rapunzel. Even Dad had changed in the brief time he’d been here, though he hadn’t stopped chasing princesses. “That’s not true—” Julie began to object.
“Why else would the Wild shrink when we leave it? We’re part of it. We are meant to be in our stories,” Linda said. She looked so earnest that Julie shivered. Linda really believed what she was saying. “I tried to live in the world. I truly did. I even tried a wish in the well. But a temporary return of the Wild wasn’t enough. The Wild told me it wouldn’t be enough, and it was right.”
Linda had talked to the Wild? When? How? So far as Julie knew, she was the only one who had ever spoken directly to the Wild, when it had possessed her brother, Boots, and tried to talk her out of saving her mother. “You spoke to it?”
Linda ignored the question. “I want you to understand that this wasn’t my first choice,” she said, “and I know it’s not what you would prefer.” Not what she’d prefer? The world was being destroyed! All across the continent, people were losing their identities, losing themselves, losing their lives! She’d just seen what a fairy tale had done to Sleeping Beauty. Now—because of Linda—that was happening to millions of people! “But this is the only way,” Linda said.
Julie opened her mouth to object. It was not at all the only way. It was the worst—
Looking beyond Julie and Boots, Linda nodded.
“Uh-oh,” Boots said. “That’s a signal.” He spun around and yelped as two oversized swans waddled out from between the costume racks. Swans? For an instant, Julie could only stare. Linda’s henchmen were swans? Sleeping Beauty had warned her, but . . . swans? Of course, these birds weren’t ordinary. For one thing, they were taller than Julie. For another, they wore crowns. They’re the swan-men, Julie realized—fairy-tale princes who had been transformed into swans while they were in the Wild. And they were also Boots’s worst nightmare.
His fur fluffing out, Boots began to quiver and shake. “Giant birds! Nooo!” Fanning their wings, the swans hissed at Boots.
“Boots!” Julie cried, diving for him. One of the swans reached out his neck and snapped his beak at her arm. He pinched skin. “Ow!”
Spitting and hissing, Boots lashed his tail and drew his claws.
“Don’t you hurt my brother,” Julie said, grabbing the chair again. She hefted it up, ready to swing. She’d kick some swan butt if she had to.
“If the cat doesn’t meddle, he won’t be hurt,” Linda said. She sounded impatient, as if she thought they were being a bit silly. The mild tone made her words sound even more frightening. “Guard him, please,” she said to the swans.
The two swan-princes flanked the cat like sentries. How many fairy-tale characters did Linda have working for her? How many wanted the Wild to return? Julie’d had no idea that so many were this unhappy with the real world.
“There’s no need for unpleasantness,” Linda said. “Once the Wild is here, he’ll be back in his story, and we won’t have a problem. We’ll all be friends.”
“You won’t be friends,” Boots said to the swans. “You’ll be dinner.” He bared his teeth. “Swan à la king.”
One of the swans snapped his beak at Boots, inches from his tail. Julie stepped closer with the chair raised over her head.
“Julie, put the chair down,” Linda said.
She didn’t. “You have what you want,” Julie said. “The Wild’s coming. You won. Please, let my family go.” She didn’t want to face the Wild alone. What if her story didn’t work? What if the door to the well didn’t appear? At least they could be together when the Wild came. At least she could say goodbye before she forgot them forever.
“I will,” Linda said. “There’s no more need to keep them. Your father has performed as many fairy-tale moments as I could have wished for, and the Wild is now much too strong for your mother to stop.”
Julie lowered the chair. “You will?” Linda was going to let them go? Just like that?
“But you, my dear,” Linda said. Before Julie could react, Linda lifted the chair out of Julie’s hands. “I’m sorry, Julie, but you are a different story. No pun intended.” She smiled faintly and set the chair down out of reach. Julie backed away, reaching for something else to defend herself with. A swan-man snapped his beak at her again, stopping her. “As lovely as the tale you told was, the Wild and I have another story in mind for you.”
Another story? Julie’s eyes flickered to the spinning wheel. Slower now, the wheel still whirred, and the spindle turned. The tip of it, she noticed, was bright silver and very sharp.
“You’ll sleep for a hundred years in this very appropriate castle,” Linda said, “and then you’ll wake to your prince’s kiss in the final moment of the Sleeping Beauty story.” She grabbed Julie’s wrists.
“Hey!” Julie struggled. “Let go of me!”
The frog, her father, started ribbeting frantically behind door number three.
Linda pulled her toward the spinning wheel. Oh, no, no, no, Julie thought. Linda continued in a calm and reasonable voice, “And then, of course, you will forget that you were ever once a girl who walked through a door to a wishing well. It won’t matter if there’s a door to the well in every castle. You won’t know to walk through it. You won’t know what wish to make.” Julie dug her heels into the carpet. Linda, a foot taller and significantly stronger, dragged her across the floor with ease. “You’ll be Sleeping Beauty forevermore. Won’t that be nice? You’ll be a princess.”
“I don’t want to be Sleeping Beauty!” Julie twisted her wrists and tried to yank away. “Even Sleeping Beauty doesn’t want to be Sleeping Beauty!” It was, as Dad had said, one of the worst fates in the fairy-tale world. Sleeping Beauty was, in essence, denied a fate. She was forced to miss life. There was no hope for escape in the Sleeping Beauty tale. She was exiled from her family, she slept for a hundred years, and then she woke. That was it. The end. If Julie were caught in her tale, she would never have the chance to break free. “Please, not Sleeping Beauty!”
Boots howled. The swans spread their wings around him, and he scratched and bit, defending himself. Imitating him, Julie kicked and scratched and hit Linda.
“Shh, now,” Linda said. “It will only hurt for a moment and then you’ll be happily-ever-after. Really, this is better for everyone.” Julie yanked at Linda’s hair. She bit Linda’s arm. Linda simply tightened her grip and continued to drag her across the room. The spinning wheel was now only a yard away.
Think, Julie, she told herself. Think!
“Please, don’t!” Julie begged. “Why are you doing this? I don’t believe it’s just because you like stories!”
“It’s because I like my story,” Linda said simply. “Your mother took it from me, and I lost my happily-ever-after. I want it back. I want him back.”
She had a story? She was a fairy-tale character? “You’re from the Wild?” Who was she? She had to be a villain. An evil stepmother, a wicked queen, an angry fairy . . . “Let go of me!” she said, continuing to struggle.
Linda clamped her hand around Julie’s wrist hard enough to bruise the skin. She stretched Julie’s arm toward the spinning wheel. She was one foot from the spindle now. “I’m sorry,” Linda said in a frighteningly calm voice, “but I am not like your mother. I cannot live without my true love. I have to return to him, no matter what the cost.”
Him? Him who? Return to him . . . She mentioned a happily-ever-after . . . She’s not a villain, Julie realized. She had a happily-ever-after. She’s a heroine. Like Mom. Like Cindy. Like Snow . . . She’s a heroine who was separated from her love.
Instantly, Julie knew. It’s my fault, the Beast had said. I should never have sent Beauty away. Linda was Beauty. And Beauty wanted her Beast back.
As Julie struggled, Linda pulled her hand closer and closer to the silver tip of the spindle. One inch from the spindle. “It won’t work!” Julie shouted. “When you enter the Wild, the Beast won’t be there!”
Linda stopped. “What?”
“You’re Beauty,” Julie said. “Aren’t you?” She had to be right. She had to be! “I met the Beast in the giant’s castle in the clouds. He’s fighting the Wild. When you go into your fairy tale, he won’t be there.”
All the blood ran out of Linda’s face. She began to tremble. Julie yanked her hand out of Linda’s grip.
Linda shook her head violently. “No, I don’t believe you. If you’d really met him, you’d know that he is just as miserable in this world as I am. He’s a virtual prisoner in his castle in the clouds, along with all the others who couldn’t adapt to this world. He didn’t want me to have that life. He sent me away out of love. But I found a way for us to be together again!”
Out of the Wild Page 14