Princess for Hire

by Lindsey Leavitt

  I gulped. “Scissors?”

  “Unless you want me to do it the ancient way and pull out all of your hair strand by strand. You might want to rest during it too. Store up some energy for what’s to come.”

  What’s to come? Scissors and nudity. Here’s a philosophical question: If a sub yells in a rain forest and there’s no agent around to hear her, does she really make a sound?

  My mom was the beauty queen, my dad was the hardworking lawyer, Gracie was the living baby doll, and I…I was the perseverer. I didn’t quit. Even when I got the muckiest of muck jobs. Even when I didn’t make the school play in sixth grade, I thought, what the heck, I’ll try out again. It was for a role in Cats, so part of the audition was a feline gymnastics routine. I fell down in the middle of a simple cartwheel. Not a round off or a back handspring. A cartwheel. Everyone laughed, and I think the director even snorted. And at that moment, the moment where my body was twisted in all sorts of unflattering angles—my shirt flipped up and my ponytail barely hanging on—I was at least reassured with the knowledge that I could never again experience humiliation so awful.

  Of course, I hadn’t foreseen a workaholic princess agent sending me ALONE to the Amazon rain forest to have all my hair removed, my body covered in black paint and eagle feathers, and a whole village of expectant, indigenous people waiting for me to make my passage into adulthood by performing some sort of dance I didn’t know.

  Kopenawa led me to a crowded hut about half the size of my school cafeteria. A pit of fire blazed in the middle, with two half-naked men (more like three-quarters naked. Grass skirts don’t hide much) standing next to it. Even more men set up drums at the edge of the hut. They were talking about me—apparently neighboring villagers had traveled here just for this ceremony, to see if the chief’s daughter would make a good wife.

  Great. This girl’s whole future rested on whatever was going to happen next. If I messed this up, no guy would choose her for a wife. This was the kind of impact I was-n’t sure I wanted to be involved in. I turned to Kopenawa. “I can’t do this.”

  “You can, and you will make Chief Yakinomi proud. Do the dance well, and you can have any man out there as your husband.”

  “Really?” I asked, confused.

  “Oh, your father was just angry before. Once he sees how hard you try, he will give you a say. You’ll see.”

  “Right. But I’m still not clear what this dance is.”

  Kopenawa laughed again. “Really, you are too funny. You can do this dance in your sleep. You’ve had four months to prepare. Think of the traditions you’ve learned, the ancestors you follow. You dance for them as well. Make it memorable.”

  A guy a few years older than me, with nice biceps, broke free of the crowd and grabbed my hand. “Good luck, Ama,” he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. When we touched I got a tingling, warm, happy feeling, and wondered if it was my MP telling me something about this guy. Could he be the one for Ama?

  “Uh, thank you,” I said. Behind him, a muscled, middle-aged man with a stern expression and lots and lots of feathers frowned at me. The feathers gave him an air of importance, like he was the chief or something. Ama’s dad? Yikes. I shot him a peace-making “Hi, Dad” sort of smile, figuring it couldn’t hurt to ease the tension a little. A look of surprise crossed his hard face, and his eyes softened for a second. Then he pounded the ground with his staff, nearly scaring the MP out of me, and the drums began to beat. The next thing I knew, two men grabbed my arms and carried me into a circle, chanting in a soft hum. They led me to the fire and took a step back. I looked to Kopenawa for a hint.

  “Jump,” she whispered.

  I jumped over the flames, the heat licking my heels. The crowd picked up the chanting, which evolved into a song peppered with animal calls.

  Animal calls. That’s right. We watched an Amazon tribal ceremony video in World History last spring. We had to bring permission slips to watch it because of the revealing clothes. The video said animal calls were a good thing. Then again, some of the traditions involved guys sticking their hands in gloves filled with fire ants, and women piercing their faces. This ceremony had better stop with the fire jumping.

  “Jump again,” Kopenawa mouthed.

  So I jumped again. And again. And again. The noises grew louder and wilder, filling the hut, filling the forest. I jumped for what must have been hours, and as I did, villagers came and went, like it was halftime at a college football game. I saw the hand-squeeze guy having a solemn conversation with Ama’s dad.

  My feet blistered from the heat. Faces appeared in the flames. Meredith, my parents, Celeste, Hayden, Kylee. It’s not like they spoke or gave me wisdom. They just stared with these blank expressions, like they weren’t sure if I’d succeed.

  A whole village watched, yet my motivation came from those faces. If those people were here—if they could see me now—well, first of all, they’d flip. But once they got over the shock of Desi Bascomb performing a tribal ritual on behalf of the chief’s daughter, they’d see I was made of something more solid than the smoke rising toward the jungle sky.

  Finally the drums stopped and a leathered elder, also painted black, extinguished the flames. You’d think things couldn’t get much worse than a fire dance, but then two masked figures appeared, circling around me and hissing.

  Kopenawa shook her head. “Dance.”

  I was desperate to rest, but I closed my eyes.

  Dance.

  The oldest dance I knew was the Pony, and that was only from the 1960s. Eyes still closed, I started with that, throwing in a few twists and twirls. I picked up the rhythm from the drums and coiled my body in ways it’d never gone before. I rolled my stomach like a belly dancer, then lifted up my knees like I’d seen on my mom’s kickboxing videos. Energy exploded from every pore. I WAS an Amazon princess.

  Until I opened my eyes and saw the alarmed expressions on the villagers’ faces. The drums stopped and someone coughed, which even in the depths of the rain forest meant I’d bombed the ceremony. The chief started toward me, carrying his stick, which had a spearhead…made of some kind of bone. I didn’t know what the punishment was for failing a Becoming a Woman Dance, but I wasn’t going to stick around and find out if the tribe resorted to cannibalism.

  So I ran.

  Chapter

  12

  There’s a reason sports bras are made out of tight-fitting Lycra and not eagle feathers. My chest hurt. My feet throbbed. But most of all, my head felt like it was going to explode.

  What was I doing? I’d just ruined this poor girl’s life—the only husband she was going to get now would be some foul-smelling reject who got kicked off hunting duty because he couldn’t handle a blow dart. Or worse, she’d be shunned and left to the dangers of the Amazon.

  But then again, if this was such a big deal for the girl, why’d she leave? Why leave some random substitute to perform a life-defining ceremony while you tour the world bubble-style? That wasn’t how a princess should act. She should face the problem, chin up. How could these girls not realize what an awesome responsibility they had? They couldn’t just run away from their problems like…well, like I just did.

  I stopped running and doubled over, gasping for air. Vapor was better than this. As my breathing slowed, it occurred to me that I was a scapegoat. The reason the princesses didn’t have to face these scary moments was because they had me. But I didn’t have anyone who could jump in and change everything for me. I was still alone.

  A startled bird squawked at me from a tree, reminding me that I was perfectly visible. I needed to hide until Meredith showed up, however long that was.

  The rouge! I had to find my stuff or I wouldn’t have a clue when the princess was on her way back. Scratch that. I had to make her come back. No way was I going to just wait here with bugs and jungle creatures eyeing me for lunch. But my hiding place could be anywhere. Everything looked the same.

  I sat down on a mossy log and pulled my knees to my chest. The bla
ck paint was already smearing where I’d sweat. I gave my armpit a quick sniff. Ew.

  “What are you doing?”

  A girl about my age, dressed in a short skirt and a HITCHING A RIDE T-shirt, stood beside me, holding a woven bag. “Aren’t you my sub?”

  “I am. Well, I was.” I rose from the log and towered over her.

  “You’re taller than me. I thought you’d be exactly my size.”

  She was right. I was taller. My body still looked like hers for the most part, but I could feel my limbs slowly stretching out. “I don’t have my compact, so I didn’t know you were coming back. Besides, I think my height is the least of your worries. I think I just kind of…messed it up.”

  “Did you fall into the fire pit? Every time I thought about doing the ceremony, the fire pit scared me.”

  “No. The dance did me in.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about the dance. It’s not as symbolic as the rest of it. The fire part proves I’m ready for adulthood. The rest is mostly for show.”

  I pursed my lips. My heart was still beating fast, but now it was from the anger welling inside of me. How could she be so casual about the whole thing? “Well, no offense, but if the fire hopping and everything else is such a big deal, why did you leave? I mean, you had months of isolation to prepare. How was I supposed to walk in and do a decent job?”

  “Well, you did it, right? It will work out fine. Besides, my father is chief. I’m not going to get punished because you could not complete your obligation.”

  “Whether or not I could finish the obligation isn’t what I’m talking about here.” I folded my arms across my still-bare chest. “Being royalty is a privilege you shouldn’t take lightly.”

  The girl tugged at her shirt before finally tearing it off. “How do you wear those clothes?” She poked through her bag, pulling out a pot of black paint, which she began smearing on her body to match me.

  “Look, I’m not trying to lecture you.” I analyzed my toes while she continued to paint herself. It’s hard to look someone in the eyes when they’re shirtless. “I know it’s not my place to say this, but running away isn’t going to solve the problem, you know? You left a huge mess for me to wade through.”

  Ama groaned. “I know. I didn’t mean to. I…got scared. After this ceremony, I’m an adult. I have to get married to whomever my father chooses, even if I don’t like him. I just wanted to see what else was out there before all these changes happen. Does that make sense?”

  More than you know. I swatted a bug on the back of my neck. I drew my hand back to see a squished mosquito the size of a rodent. Get me out of here. “Yeah. That must be hard. Wait—Kopenawa told me your dad was just mad when he said you didn’t have a choice.”

  Ama looked astonished. “Really? She said that?”

  “Yeah. And there was a nice-looking guy who wished you good luck. He talked to your dad.”

  “Did he have strong arms and a nice smile?”

  “Yep.”

  “That was Tereis. You saw Tereis talking to my dad?”

  “I think so. But then after the dance your dad came toward me with a spear. That’s when I took off.”

  Ama laughed. “My dad always has his spear. He was-n’t going to hurt you. He would never hurt me.” She glanced back at her village. “Look, my people are kind and forgiving. I’ll just go back and explain I had doubts during the ceremony, but a wise tree spirit enlightened me. You can’t argue with a tree spirit.”

  Tree spirit. Yet another title not in the job description.

  Ama brought out some scissors from the bag, and we got to work hacking off her hair.

  Our task was briefly interrupted by the most beautiful sound in the world. A humming that wasn’t a giant insect. A bubble appeared, barely visible behind a tangle of vines. It looked different—smaller—with an actual door.

  I raised my arms to the Amazon gods. Let there be bubble.

  “Hey, that’s like the orb I traveled in!” Ama said as I finished the final snips. “And the things I saw! Have you ever seen a car? And I had no idea there were so many kinds of food!” She sighed. “I’m glad I had a chance to see it, but now I’m ready to go back. So, thanks.”

  “Oh, you’re welc—”

  Something whirred by my head, and Ama jumped away. A dart had lodged in my bubble, which was now shooting neon-green sparks.

  “So much for the tree spirit,” Princess Ama said.

  “Huh? What?” Another dart pierced my bubble. “Why are they bursting my bubble?”

  “Two identical-looking princesses standing next to each other equals evil spirits.”

  “But they shouldn’t be able to see the bubble. Unless…Oh great. I bet you all have MP!”

  “Well, get out of here! Those darts are poisonous; you’ll be seeing evil spirits yourself soon.”

  “Okay, well…” I wanted to end this “Kumbaya” moment on a high note. “Peace be unto you.”

  “What?” Ama yelled.

  “Bye!” I pushed the bubble door open and stumbled in. Instead of Meredith’s office, there was a jetlike cockpit with flashing sirens and the sign EMERGENCY BUBBLE lit above.

  “Warning! Warning! Bubble malfunction!” said a robotic voice.

  “No!” I pounded the green GO button. “I have to get out of here! I don’t even have my manual!”

  The bubble choked and rose into the air, tossing me up, down, and around. It flew for about ten seconds before the voice said, “Bubble is unable to function and will self-destruct in ten seconds. Please vacate the bubble immediately. Your agent has been contacted and another bubble will be sent.”

  “There’s flying darts out there. Where do I go?”

  “Out is a good option. You have five seconds. Four, three…”

  I crawled through the bubble door, not knowing how far I would fall. I flew through some tree branches and thorny leaves before crashing onto the forest floor. Oy. Ow. Ouch. One of those snapping sounds on the way down wasn’t a branch. It was a rib.

  The floating bubble was just visible through the hole my body had made in the branches on my descent. The pitch of the bubble’s hiss increased, piercing my eardrums. Just when I thought the sound couldn’t get any higher, there was a soft popping and the bubble disappeared, leaving a puff of purple smoke.

  I sucked in short gasps of air, clutching my side. “Help!” I sobbed. “Please, mighty tree spirits, if you can hear me! Help!”

  Chapter

  13

  “Tree spirits? Oh, please.”

  I squinted through the agony. My super-understanding and empathetic agent had come to save me.

  “It’s one rib. Maybe two.” Meredith wiped some slime from her brown crocodile boots. Her green A-line skirt, white blouse, and enormous sunglasses were more New Yorker than Amazon adventurer, but the heat didn’t faze her. “Once, I broke both legs in a malfunctioning bubble crash. Here.” She plucked a gnarled stick out of her green briefcase and waved it over me. The pain eased.

  “Magic wand?” I spit out a bug.

  “Amazon healing stick. Useful little souvenir.” She pulled me up and led me into her bubble. It was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen, although I could have done without the chartreuse. I’d gone greener than Greenpeace in that jungle.

  “You can sit at my desk.”

  “I’d rather lie down.”

  “Fine. But try not to bleed or throw up on the upholstery. It’s Italian and I just got it cleaned.”

  Ignoring her, I collapsed onto the couch. “I hope I earned a break before the next job. Where are we going anyway?”

  “We aren’t going anywhere. You are going home.”

  “Really? When’s my next assignment?”

  “You really think I’m giving you another job after that disaster? Leaving the gig before I got there is bad enough, but destroying an emergency bubble is in clear violation of Item Six of your contract. Oh, and I found your manual and rouge. Anyone could have, thanks to your arrow, which would
have been yet another mess to clean up.”

  “Um, hello? I was naked! No private, safe places. What did you want me to do with my stuff? And I didn’t destroy a bubble! It malfunctioned! They were shooting blow darts at me. The contract said mortal danger is an exception, remember?”

  Meredith fixed me with a hard stare. “But you did run out of that village early. Got spotted with your client. True, you didn’t have your timer, but that emergency bubble got there fast enough. You would have been fine if you hadn’t hung around chatting. Luckily, the villagers believed you were a spirit, and you got off without a Sub Spotting on your record. But the blow darts wouldn’t have happened if you’d done your job. So it’s on you.”

  On me. On me? I’m a responsible teenager. I got a job before I’d even started high school. I do my homework every night. I help old ladies cross the street. I brush AND floss. I am willing to accept when I make a bad choice, like the time I wore leggings with my SPROUTVILLE SUPERHERO shirt and everyone called me Captain Toothpick for a week. But I was not about to take responsibility for this.

  “So we’ll agree to disagree on the bubble thing. I still think…I want to stay, Meredith. Please.”

  “You’re a liability, Desi. Shaking things up for Simmy, and now running away from the village and right into your client? Talking to her?”

  “Of course I ran. You said we don’t do major life moments, and there I was doing a Becoming a Woman tribal dance.”

  Meredith looked up and rubbed her chin. “That was a translation error. We thought you were going to a trivial dance.”

  “What? No! I had the whole village there. And based on what Ama said, I probably did it right. Which is pretty tough considering there was fire! And—”

  “Stop. You made mistakes. Big mistakes.” She shook her head. “I’m going to have to think about this. I still haven’t made up my mind about you. I’ve got to go back to the agency now and sort out this bubble business. In the meantime, I’m putting you on probation. Go home and think about the rules and see if this is something you can really do. I’ll be in touch and let you know what I’ve decided, but don’t get your hopes up.”