Cinderella's Dress

by Shonna Slayton

  Kate dropped the paper like it burned her fingers. What would Elsie do when she saw the article? Adalbert faithfully read the paper every day. There was no way Kate could intercept it and explain herself first. She had school.

  “Is that the paper?” asked Mom.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, don’t stand there lollygagging—bring it in.”

  Kate closed the door and leaned up against it. She held up the paper for Mom to see. “Harmon-Craig made the front page.”

  “You don’t sound very excited about it.” Mom snatched the paper. “Let me see.” She brought it over to the table. “Oh, dear!” Her hand covered her mouth. “There was a fire last night? An arsonist?” She looked up at Kate. “Were you there when it happened?”

  Kate nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me when you came in?”

  “You were barely awake.” Kate pushed herself off the door. “I figured it could wait until morning.”

  “Well, that must have been exciting. I’m assuming Johnny took good care of you and Josie?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “And?” she asked. “How did the date go?”

  Nervy, then wonderful, then heart pounding, then tragic, all wrapped up in a cologne-infused blazer.

  “Hmm. It was a night to remember.” Her voice betrayed any excitement she should have felt over a first date.

  Mom raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

  Kate popped some bread into the toaster. Staring at it, she asked, “Have you ever done something you regretted?”

  After a slight pause, Mom answered, “Of course. Everyone has.” She started making her morning coffee. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  “Not yet.” The toast popped. “Do you have any idea why this necklace was so special to Babcia?” Kate fingered the amber.

  Mom set the percolator on the stove. She lifted the pendant from Kate’s fingers. “I wish I knew. Babcia used to get letters that would come in fancy envelopes with a crest embossed on them. The crest that’s on her jewelry box. She would throw them away and spend the rest of the day in a foul mood. Eventually, the letters stopped coming.”

  Mom straightened the necklace around Kate’s neck. “You asked about doing something you later regret. One day, near the end of the war, one of those same envelopes came here again. After all those years. Only this time it was addressed to the Oberlins. I carried it with me in my purse for a few weeks and eventually threw it out one night at the factory after I’d had a hard shift. Whoever was sending those letters only caused Babcia pain, and I wanted to punish them, I guess, by not letting them get their letter through.”

  The Kolodenkos! They had tried to make contact. Kate was about to scold her mother when she thought of the Cinderella dress lying in a heap of ashes in the display window at Harmon-Craig. The Oberlins would have been better off staying at the Mexican refugee camp and going back to Poland on the first ship out. A fine lot Babcia, Mom, and Kate turned out to be.

  …

  All day long, Kate could not get the vision of the burning dress out of her mind. It made her stomach sick. She pictured Elsie sitting at the kitchen table and looking up into the living room when Adalbert asked how her tea was. She would see the front-page picture on the paper he held up, and a memory would fire in her diseased brain. A thought she couldn’t quite grasp hold of. She would get up to look closer, and the memory would settle. She would fall into hysterics. Tell Adalbert what an awful niece they had. Then she would make him call the store and tell them the dress was theirs, taken without their permission and how dare they let it burn up! She would give Adalbert no peace until he called.

  Mr. G would fire her for sure. She could never show her face at Harmon-Craig again.

  After school, Kate sneaked into the store to meet her mother. She ignored the crowd gathered at the front window. She didn’t want to see how Mr. G “fixed” things.

  Mr. Oliver, head of Sewing and Alterations, spotted her on her way through Women’s Wear. He waved her over, almost as if he had been looking for her. “Kate, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve got a rush order. I need you to take this package to Adalbert and stay until he is finished, then bring it back.” He pushed some bills into her hands. “And take a cab. This is important.”

  “Oh,” she said, searching for an excuse. “I’m supposed to meet my mother—”

  “Already cleared it through her. Off you go.” He now waved her away.

  Kate swallowed hard. Not only did she have to face her worst fear that day, but she had to do it in a speedy New York cab.

  “Kate!”

  She turned away from Mr. Oliver. It was Roy.

  “Quite a prank they pulled on us, huh? Mr. G said you saw it all.”

  Kate cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t call it a prank. The dress is gone.” Her voice sounded as pathetic as she felt.

  Roy’s brow wrinkled, and he scratched his head. “Don’t you know? We got it figured out it was someone from the Mercury Theatre trying to help out Mr. Day with his grand opening of the Phoenix. It all makes sense. A dress burning, only to come out of the flames like the phoenix.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Orson Welles! I took my gal to his show last weekend. We figure he snuck into the store and did that trick where it only looks like something burns but it doesn’t really. I thought of it right away. He and Mr. Day are old friends. It would be exactly the kind of stunt he would pull. You know what they say about him: one Orson Welles on earth is enough. Two of them would bring civilization to an end. Ten thousand, and the world would fly apart like an exploding bomb.”

  Roy wasn’t making any sense. There was no way the stranger was a sleight-of-hand magician. And he wasn’t a vandal like the paper implied. She saw the rage in his face. He was after the dress, not trying to put on a show.

  “Listen to me. By the time Mr. G got to the store around three a.m., the dress was back on Marge. Not a scratch on it and like nothing ever happened. Of course, no one is admitting to it since it didn’t go off as planned.”

  Without a word, Kate dashed outside and pushed her way through to the front of the window. The dress! How in the world? She had seen the man try to steal it. She saw it burst into flame. And she saw the pile of ashes at the base of the manikin.

  It had to be the magic. The dress protected itself. But how did it know?

  …

  Kate rode in the backseat of the cab in a daze. With no help from her, the dress was safe. She replayed the events, searching for clues. The dress was fine in her locker. When its wrapping ripped, there were no consequences. Kate was able to touch the fabric. It didn’t hurt her or itself. Later, when Roy touched the crystals, he was shocked. It was as if the dress didn’t want him touching it. When the stranger first grabbed at the dress, he acted like it gave him a jolt, too. Then when he got more aggressive, the dress burst into flame and destroyed itself, only to return after the danger had passed. Perhaps the dress only let women touch it. No, that didn’t make sense either because, what happened when Cinderella danced with the prince? Surely he didn’t get zapped.

  Slowly, Kate came to a realization. The dress didn’t need her. For all Elsie’s talk about heritage and privilege, the dress, if it had a personality, would be a cat. Somewhat independent and fickle. It was in charge, and if you wanted to play its game, great. If you didn’t, then off you go.

  The bigger problem in front of her now was how to deal with the New York Times giving her away. Too soon, the cab pulled up to the house. Taking a few deep breaths, Kate went over some excuses in her mind. None of them sounded very good.

  “This is it, gal,” said the cabbie, eying her in his rearview mirror.

  “Right. Thanks.” Kate paid him and got out of the car.

  Shifting the package in her arms, Kate took her time getting to the Oberlins’ door. Surprisingly, it was open an inch.

  “Hello?” Kate asked, pushing the door wider. Broken dishes and pa
pers littered the countertops and floor. The cupboards and drawers were open at odd intervals. A burning smell reached Kate’s nose, and she saw the kettle on the stove, boiled dry and the pot blackening. A robbery?

  Kate froze then started to back away from the door when she heard Adalbert’s quiet voice from the living room.

  “Hello? We’re in here.”

  “Uncle Adalbert? Aunt Elsie? Are you okay? Is it safe?” Kate’s heart pounded against her chest. She made ready to run out the door for help.

  “Yes, child. They’re gone. Come help us.”

  First, Kate lunged for the stove and turned off the flame. She stepped carefully around the broken plates and into the living room. An upended sewing table in the corner left an avalanche of fabric strewn across the floor. Adalbert and Elsie sat on the sofa, hands taped together and feet bound. Aunt Elsie had wild, startled eyes.

  Adalbert looked down at the olive-drab duck tape around his wrists. “Could you cut this off?”

  “Of course.” Kate dropped her package on a side table and rushed in to help. Looking around, she reached for a pair of sewing shears to cut through the thick tape.

  “Not those, Kate, those are my good ones. Get a pair from the kitchen.”

  She carefully stepped back around the broken glass until she found the scissors.

  “Has anyone been to your place or to the store looking for us?” asked Adalbert. “Like those FBI agents again?”

  “No,” she said as she worked through the tape. It took several seconds, as she was being careful not to nick their skin.

  “Good,” he said as he pulled off the rest of the tape, leaving behind a white mark. “Elsie, are you all right, my princess?” He carefully and gently pulled the tape away from her thin skin. “Can I make you some tea?”

  Aunt Elsie rubbed her wrists and nodded. Then she looked at Kate. “Thank you, young lady,” she said in Polish. “God bless you. Those Nazis will stop at nothing. It’s a good thing our valuables are so well hidden.” Then to Adalbert she said, “They’ll be back to take you away. We should go.”

  Kate smiled weakly. Elsie looked well enough. Whoever did this treated her somewhat gently, at least.

  “You settle here,” said Adalbert, helping Elsie to the sofa. “They are gone now, and we have plenty of time.” He wrapped her in a blanket and helped her lie down. He gently lifted her feet to rest on the sofa. She curled up and closed her eyes.

  Adalbert gently stroked her cheek. Once she was settled, he went into the kitchen and found a saucepan to set on the stove for Elsie’s tea.

  “What happened here?” Kate followed him back to the kitchen.

  Adalbert got a broom and began sweeping up the kitchen floor. “Two men came looking for…something.” His eyes flickered to meet hers then looked back at his sweeping. “It was not here, so they left.” He set the broom against the wall before collapsing onto a kitchen chair. He sighed heavily.

  So he didn’t know yet. He was still trying to protect her, when she was the one who caused all the trouble. It was time to confess. She stood awkwardly at the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Aunt Elsie’s shoulders gently rose and fell as she slept. When Kate turned back around, she spied the offending newspaper lying on the kitchen table underneath the debris. She reached for it at the same time Adalbert picked it up.

  “What is this?” he asked, pulling the paper toward him. He studied the picture, then opened the paper to read the article. His lips moved silently with the words.

  Kate held her breath.

  “My child.” Adalbert stared up at Kate. The newspaper trembled in his hand. “What have you done?”

  She raised her hands, palms out, in a stop motion. “The dress is fine. The papers didn’t get the whole story.” Even as she spoke the words, Kate knew things weren’t okay. She had started an awful chain of events and didn’t know where it was going to stop. “I-I couldn’t resist looking when Elsie gave me the package. I’d never seen such a dress in all my life.”

  She paced back and forth, wringing her hands. “It was window night, and things weren’t working like we wanted them to. The ball gowns at Harmon-Craig weren’t fancy enough for the theme we had chosen.” She looked down at the floor. “I didn’t think Elsie would see the dress in the window, since she never comes to the store, and you haven’t been in weeks. I thought I could borrow the dress and put it back before anyone, I mean, you two, knew it.”

  “Nie! Not that dress, Kate.” He jumped up from the table and paced the room. His mouth was set in a determined frown. He turned to face Kate full-on. His hands folded over the picture in the paper, as if trying to make it go back into hiding. “You knew that the dresses were not ours, and still you allowed the Cinderella dress to go on display?” His voice was taut, controlled.

  Kate looked away. That’s not exactly what happened, and yet it was. She had been dreading this moment, and now that it was here, she was relieved, but oh so shamed. Yes, she had known what she was doing. She didn’t deserve to inherit her family legacy.

  “They saw the paper,” he said, his voice barely audible. “That’s why they were here.” His face drained of color. The water began a heavy boil, but Adalbert made no move to stop it. “Do you know who they are?”

  She nodded. “The ones you warned me about. The descendants of the stepsisters.” She took the pot off the stove and poured it into the teapot. She would do any little task to make up for what she had done.

  Uncle Adalbert stood and gripped her arm. “We haven’t much time. They will find out about you and your mother.” He shook his head. “They probably already have.”

  Kate looked down at Adalbert’s hand. His bony fingers dug into her arm. She was suddenly fearful.

  Her voice shook as she glanced about at the torn-apart kitchen. “They already know the dresses are at the store. What else could they be looking for?”

  Adalbert let go of her arm. “They want the third dress.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  “T-the third dress? But there were only two in the package.”

  Adalbert’s mouth curled up into a half smile. “The third we call the Ever-After dress. As in the phrase happily ever after. It is the wedding dress. We hid it in your hope chest.”

  “My hope chest?” Kate’s voice squeaked. She thought back to the day Adalbert and Elsie moved out of the apartment. Her mother had given her the hope chest, but Elsie said their friend had helped with the refurbishing. An old friend who used to make hidden rooms.

  Adalbert slumped back in his chair. “There is a secret compartment, a false bottom in your hope chest. The dress is well hidden, so I doubt the Burgosovs will find it.” His focus took in the destruction around his house. “But now you are in danger. They will try to force you to give them the dresses.”

  Kate was too busy wrapping her mind around the idea of another dress at first to register the danger. “A third dress? In my hope chest this whole time?” What did Cinderella’s wedding dress look like? She wanted to see it.

  Uncle Adalbert reached for the phone. “I must call your mother to make sure she is all right.” He listened to the ringing. “There is no answer. I hope she is still at work.” He pressed down the receiver before calling a different number. “I am calling your friend Johnny, the boy who is back from war. He has made several deliveries for me since he came back. He can go with you.”

  Johnny? After last night’s fiasco, would he think she was too much trouble to bother with? It’s not every day a night of dancing turns into witnessing a car accident and a dress going up in flames. What if he preferred a girl who didn’t attract such odd events? One he could take to a soda shop and actually drink a malt with in peace.

  Adalbert spoke quickly, then hung up the phone. “Johnny will be here soon.” He wrung his hands. “One more thing, please, Kate. Do not tell your mother about the dresses.” He said it almost apologetically. “It is best we tell as few people as possible.”

  Mom already knew a little a
bout the dresses. After all, she’d seen the crowd gathered around to admire them. But she’d never asked Kate about them. Maybe the rumor mill hadn’t gotten to her yet, and she didn’t know Kate had been the one to offer them to the store. It wouldn’t take much for her to figure out where the dresses ultimately came from if she took the time to notice. And then the questions would start.

  Adalbert readied the tea. Two sugars, the way Elsie liked it. “Funny,” he said. “Before the war, she did not care for sugar in her tea, but ever since rationing stopped, she asks for a little bit of sweetness.” He smiled. “Do you want a cup?”

  “No, thank you.” She was too edgy. “Why shouldn’t the dress be on display?” she asked. Aside from the obvious.

  “I am unsure what form the magic will take when it is unleashed. Elsie says it can be”—he paused, searching for the word—“unpredictable.”

  Kate giggled. Unpredictable was an understatement. “It set itself on fire.”

  “What?”

  She laughed outright, releasing some of her fear and bitterness. “Last night, I watched it completely burn up. Then today it was back as if nothing had happened. A cruel joke.”

  “That is…unpredictable.”

  “One of them was trying to steal it. The paper says he purposely set the dress on fire. But he didn’t. I watched. The dress burst into flames by itself, and he tried to stop it.”

  Adalbert waved his hand at the mess in the room. “They followed you on one of your deliveries, maybe? They have been watching us, wondering…”

  “The man I saw had been watching the store, but he never followed me anywhere. I checked.” She searched her memories for anything else unusual. She thought of the man she saw standing in the rain. “There was another man. I saw him once on your street.”