by Kristy Tate
“You think the dwarfs are in the canyon?”
Brock eased off the gas as the parkway narrowed to a two-lane road and descended into the canyon. “Where else would they be? I can’t really see them staying at the Mirage Inn, and we know they’re close by. I bet they’re camping at the park, and if they are, I bet Jax knows about it.”
Although the Hearty Oak Canyon Road was less than three miles from the center of Santa Magdalena, the canyon looked like it belonged on a different planet. Gone were the groomed greenbelts with the perfectly pruned roses. Things, including plants, people, and animals, were wilder in the crevice between Saddlehorn Mountain and the rolling foothills. Oak trees formed an umbrella that sheltered the road from the sun. Bikers roared their Harleys from the Aliso Creek trail to the Santiago Canyon. Mountain bikers headed for the Wilted Ranch and hikers wandered off the trails. Campers and vagrants stayed in the Neal Ford State Park. The only place serving food was Jax Junction.
Grace had never been inside Jax because it was a bar, and Grandpa Hank believed that the only reason people went into the canyon was to deal drugs. Grace knew that last part wasn’t true, but she couldn’t help thinking about what Grandpa Hank would say if he knew she was spending a Saturday morning in a biker bar in the canyon.
But what would he say if he knew Heather was hanging out with fairytale characters?
Brock rolled the BMW off the road and parked it under the shade of a gnarled oak. When they climbed from the car, Kelly had Hans cradled against her chest.
“They probably won’t let you bring dogs into the bar,” Brock said.
Kelly took a look at the men dressed in leathers hanging out on the porch. “I think he’ll fit right in.”
“Same hairdo,” Grace muttered.
“I think Hans is better groomed, actually,” Kelly whispered.
They picked their way through the motorcycles gathered in the dirt lot. The smell of bacon mingled with pine and the smoke from distant campground fires tinged the crisp air.
Men lounging on the porch straightened as the trio passed. One of them dropped his cigarette and ground it beneath his boot, but no one pointed and shrieked, “Minors!” as Grace had feared.
Kelly tightened her hold on Hans as they went through the swinging doors. The floors and walls were made of the same wide planks of wood. The bar dominated one wall and Grace caught their reflection in the mirror behind it. They looked as out of place as she felt.
“Hail, young Brockbank!” The sturdy man behind the bar raised his arm in welcome, and his face cracked a wide grin.
Brock returned the smile. “Hey there, Jax. These are my friends.” He introduced Grace and Kelly.
Grace tried not to stare at the crumbs of food in Jax’s beard while Kelly shuffled her feet. A few of the men in the bar watched, but most went back to their conversations and breakfasts.
“What can I get you, man?” Jax asked Brock.
“We’re looking for her sister.” Brock motioned toward Grace.
“She look like you?” Jax asked her.
“Yes!” Grace felt a well of hope.
“Haven’t seen her. I would have remembered a pretty thing like that.” Jax braced his hands on the bar and leaned toward them.
“How about a guy with a French accent?” Brock asked. “A Prince Charming kind of guy?”
Jax raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t seen any pretty boys around here, either.”
“Forget pretty.” Brock asked Jax about the dwarfs.
Interest lit Jack’s eyes. “Now I can help you. Word is those guys are camping in the park.”
“I knew it!” Brock looked really proud of himself.
“What do they have to do with your sister?” Jax asked. “Want me to send some guys to corkscrew their arms?”
“No! Please.” Grace didn’t know who Jax would send for the arm-screwing, but she was pretty sure it wouldn’t be a fair fight. “We just want to know if they can find the prince…pretty boy.”
Jax seemed satisfied.
“They’re at the campground, huh?” Brock asked.
Jax bobbed his head. “You sure you don’t want me to send some heavy weight in there for you?”
“I’m sure,” Brock said. “Hey, thanks.”
They made their way back to the car and headed for the state park.
“It looks like a really big park,” Kelly said when they pulled up to the gate.
“And they’re really little guys,” Grace said.
Brock pointed the BMW down the dirt road, passing ramshackle trailers, scarred pickup trucks, brightly colored pop-up tents, and blanket-swaddled people sleeping on picnic tables.
“We’re never going to find them,” Kelly moaned.
“I don’t think we’re in Orange County anymore,” Grace murmured.
“We are,” Brock assured them.
For the first time ever, Grace thought Grandpa Hank might have been right, as a man dressed in only a tight pair of jeans, cut off mid-thigh, crossed the road in front of them. He disappeared into a stone building that probably housed the restrooms.
Brock whistled.
“Oh my golly! They’re real!” Kelly exclaimed, pointing to the left.
There, in the shadow of a towering pine, the dwarfs had set up camp. They had strung two ropes between trees and draped a variety of brightly colored blankets and quilts to make a long, rectangular canopy. One man stood beside a struggling fire, poking at it with a stick. A few more were gathered around the table, stirring bowls with long-handled spoons, and chopping vegetables with wicked-looking knifes. One was doing jumping jacks and kicking up small puffs of dirt with his boots. Another stood in front of a mirror that had been hung from a tree. He had a razor in his hand and looked as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it. They all stopped whatever they were doing when Brock parked the BMW in front of their campsite.
Brock lowered his window.
The men peered back at him, suspicion lighting their eyes.
“Hey, guys,” Brook began. “How are ya?”
No one answered.
“Tough crowd,” Kelly whispered.
Hans growled, but no one took him seriously.
“We’re looking for Grace’s sister,” Brock said. “We think she might be with Prince Charming.”
The men drew closer to the car and collectively stared at Grace.
She waved at them, trying to act friendly.
“We’re looking for him, too,” Prof answered.
“Well, that’s not good,” Kelly muttered.
“That’s Prof,” Grace whispered to Brock and Kelly. “He’s the ringleader.”
“So you don’t know where he is?” Brock asked.
They all shook their heads. Then the smallest dwarf with the pointy ears leaned over to whisper to the guy who was always smiling.
“What?” Grace asked, hating people who kept secrets.
“Blanche Neige would probably know,” Prof said.
“Why would she? I thought you said they weren’t speaking,” Grace said.
“She’s his true love, duh,” an angry-looking dwarf said.
“So how can we find Blanche Neige?” Brock asked.
“We found her at the Mirage Inn,” the dwarf with the reddest nose said. “She’s driving all the maids crazy.”
Brock gave Grace and Kelly a look with the unspoken question, should we? in his eyes.
Grace had driven by the Mirage Inn a dozen times, but she’d never been inside. The hotel, with its cluster of bellboys and valets, was just waking up when Brock pulled the BMW onto the stone circular drive, past a two-story fountain. She felt as if the pair of lions flanking the wide glass doors were looking down their snouts at her. Their gazes said, You must wear Prada to enter here.
Kelly and Brock didn’t look like they shared Grace’s inhibitions. Brock, with his messed hair and square, unshaven chin, tossed his key to the waiting valet as if this was something he did every day. Kelly, dressed in pink pajama pants do
tted with panda bears in bowties, climbed from the car, clutched Hans, and padded into the luxurious foyer. In her jeans and hoodie, Grace felt completely out of place.
She tried to imagine how the dwarfs would feel. But as the little men rolled their big red van with the words go big or go home up to the curve, they didn’t look at all intimidated by the swank. They clambered from the van, swarmed into the hotel’s lobby, and marched up to the front desk.
“We need to see Blanche Neige,” Prof said.
The woman behind the counter blinked at all the dwarfs. “I’m sorry, is she a guest?”
“What are you sorry about?” the cranky one grumbled. “You don’t need to be sorry unless you’re in cahoots with her!”
“Calm yourself,” the shy one said, putting a restraining hand on the other’s arm. He winked at the woman behind the desk. “I’m sure this nice woman wants to help us.”
The nice woman opened her mouth to say something, but another dwarf interrupted her. “Found her!” He cocked his thumb toward the exit and all the dwarfs hustled his way.
“Excuse me! Where are you going?” the woman called after the retreating dwarfs. “You can’t just wander the grounds!”
No one paid her any attention. Kelly, Hans, Brock, and Grace ran after them.
“How did you find her?” Grace asked as she jogged beside Prof.
“Easy,” Prof said, pointing to a second-story window surrounded by birds. “See? Blanche attracts creatures.”
The dwarfs hurried over to the side of the building, away from the curious stares of the valets and bellboys.
Prof cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Hey, Blanche!”
The birds twittered and swooped around the window, but Blanche didn’t respond.
“What if it’s not her window?” Grace asked, glancing back toward the front entrance, expecting to see a security guard or a posse of bellboys coming.
“It is,” the grumpy one muttered.
“Maybe she’s still asleep,” Kelly suggested. “It’s only seven.”
“She’s always up at dawn,” one of them said, as if that was a perfectly insane time to be awake.
“Maybe she’s not there,” Grace said.
“Oh, she’s there,” Prof said. “Otherwise, the birds would leave.”
The little men exchanged glances, then, reaching an unspoken mutual consent, one climbed onto another’s shoulders.
“What are you doing?” Kelly hissed.
Grace watched, open-mouthed, as the dwarfs scaled each other, forming a weaving human tower.
“What if she’s in the shower—or naked?” Brock asked. “You’re going to get arrested!”
“Do you want to find the prince or not?” Prof demanded. He was number three on the dwarf totem pole, and his face was turning bright red. The littlest, the last to climb on, scampered up the human mast, using belt loops and shoulders to hoist his way to the top. Once there, he shooed away the birds and pounded on the window.
Seconds later, the window opened, and a woman with dark hair and fair skin stuck out her head. “Bonjour, Simplet. How lovely to see you. What brings you here?”
“We want the mirror, Blanche!” Prof called out.
All the dwarfs began to nod their heads, throwing the tower off balance. They swayed dangerously.
Grace backed away.
“I told you I don’t have it,” Blanche said. “Now, if you don’t mind. Please go away.” She started to close the window, but then she stopped. “Why, hello! What a lovely creature!”
Kelly stroked Hans’ fur. “Thank you. He’s a sweetie.”
Blanche looked momentarily confused, but her smile returned. “I was talking about you!” She pointed at Grace. “Who are you?”
“I’m Grace James.”
“Goodness. That’s a nice name. Why, I do believe you might be the fairest creature I’ve ever met!”
“Hmm, thanks?”
“We’re looking for Grace’s sister,” Brock said. “We think she’s with Charmant.”
Blanche huffed out a sigh. “That dweeb.”
“We have to find him,” Grace said.
“I’m sorry. I would like to help you, just because you’re so beautiful, but I’m afraid I can’t. I’m through with Charmant. He’s shallow and vain!”
A security guard rounded the corner. He had one hand on his gun at his hip and the other held a walkie-talkie to his mouth. He scowled at the towering dwarfs.
Simplet must have seen him because he grabbed the window and launched himself into the room.
Shrieks and scuffling sounded from the open window. The dwarfs dismantled in a series of summersaults and cartwheels.
“Don’t mind us,” Prof said to the security guard, as he climbed to his feet and took off running. The dwarfs scattered.
“You with these guys?” the security guard asked.
Kelly shook her head. “We’re just bringing my dog out to do his thing.”
The guard frowned at the dog and Hans growled in return.
Simplet stuck his head out the window. “Room 211. Come on up!”
Blanche shrieked again. Simplet disappeared momentarily, but quickly resurfaced. “I called the front desk. They’ll buzz you in!”
The guard looked at Simplet, the dog, and the three teenagers. “What’s going on?”
“I wish we knew,” Brock said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
For Grace, looking at Blanche Neige was like looking in a mirror, except for the clothes: Blanche wore a red striped skirt that hung to her knees, a white blouse, and a yellow sweater.
Blanche grabbed both of Grace’s hands, pulled her into the room and enveloped her in a tight hug. “I just know we’re going to be best friends!”
Kelly and Brock trailed in after Grace. The suite consisted of a tiny living room with a sofa, a couple of wingback chairs, a fireplace, and a TV. There was also a nook of a kitchen and an adjacent bedroom and bathroom.
Simplet leaned out the window and called instructions to his brothers. Seconds later, Prof dropped into the room. The others quickly followed.
“They’re scaling the wall,” Kelly said.
Blanche puffed out a sigh. “They’re like little boys, and I love them, except when they’re telling me what to do.” She sat down hard on the sofa. “I wish they’d just leave me alone!”
“Alone to do what?” Grace asked, hoping she didn’t sound rude.
“Well, when I first got here,” Blanche said, “I tried to do some housekeeping, but that got squelched.”
“You think it needs cleaning?” Brock looked around the spotless suite.
“No—it’s not messy! There’s nothing to scrub!” Blanche screwed her lips together and lowered her eyebrows as if reliving a painful memory. “I tried to straighten up some of the other rooms, but I guess that’s a big no no.” She glanced at the men one by one invading the room. “These guys didn’t mind when I tidied up their place, but I guess not everyone appreciates a good polishing like they do.”
“So what do you do now?” Grace asked.
“Oh!” Blanche bounced on the sofa. “I discovered the most amazing thing!” She picked up the TV remote and turned it on. The image of Daniel Heartwood, star of the Sherwood Channel’s teen dramedy, flashed on. “I’m absolutely in love! See, this is Carlton Walden and he’s in love with Chelsea Smith, but she thinks he’s smitten with Layla Lewis who’s so passionate about her work rescuing pugs that she can’t see that Joshua Judd is absolutely obsessed with her!”
Grace tried to look interested, but after listening to the program’s rundown, she wanted to put her head in her hands.
“Wait.” Brock sat down beside Grace. “Are you in love with the show or Daniel Heartwood?”
“Both!” Blanche smiled at him. “If you could see how sweet he is with the pugs, you would love him too. And, you know, pugs aren’t pretty dogs. They’re just not. But he doesn’t care that they’re ugly and yappy, he’s—”
“What if I could introduce you to Daniel Heartwood?” Brock said.
Blanche jumped to her feet and placed both hands over her heart as if it would fly out of her chest if she didn’t restrain it. “Oh my stars!”
“You know Daniel Heartwood?” Grace asked Brock.
“I know someone who knows him,” Brock said. “So do you.”
Realization hit. “Gabby?”
“Yeah, her cousin is the photographer to the stars.”
“But Daniel Heartwood?”
“And it just so happens that he’s having a party tonight!” Brock beamed at Blanche. “Want to meet him?”
“I’m sure they don’t just let anyone into his parties,” Grace said.
Brock kicked Grace’s foot.
“Oh my! Oh my!” Blanche twirled around the room, a smile splitting her face. “Fairy tales really do come true, even in this the Everyday World!”
#
Back in the BMW, Grace turned on Brock. “What are you thinking? We can’t crash a Daniel Heartwood party.”
Brock smiled but didn’t answer. He wanted to see Grace glammed up at a Hollywood party.
“Am I right?” Grace turned to Kelly.
Kelly just shrugged. “Hey, if I get to go to a Hollywood party and meet Daniel Heartwood, I’m so there!”
“You don’t even like Daniel Heartwood.” Grace jabbed a finger in Kelly’s face. “You think he’s too pretty!”
“I don’t understand you,” Kelly said, swatting at Grace’s hand. “You’re the one who wants to find your sister.”
“Yes, b-b-“ Grace stuttered.
Brock shot her a quick glance, while shaking his head. “How can you believe in Snow White, Prince Charming, seven dwarfs, and a magic cupboard and not believe we can get passes to a Daniel Heartwood party?”
Grace opened her mouth, but couldn’t seem to find any words. After a few beats of silence, she said in a small voice, “Do you think the magic cupboard could conjure up something for me to wear?”
“We don’t need a magic cupboard. You can borrow something from the shop,” Brock said.