Unhappily Ever After: Fairy Tales With a Twist

by Anchor Group Publishing

  A minute later, several costume pieces appeared in the kitchen, carried in by the same house spider and the Bitzy’s who chattered and flew about her head in excitement.

  Trying on the costumes, she was thrilled that the gown, mask, and wing covers fit her to a tee. She once again thanked the house spider for its gift and blew kisses to the Bitzy’s.

  But how was she to get there? Her own webbing was secured, but it would take a lot of webs to get to the castle and she was not sure she had enough.

  Once again, the house spider came to her rescue. Several more spiders arrived at the house, and when she came outside she saw the webbing path they had made to the castle.

  She clapped her hands in joy! Bending down, she kissed the top of the head of the house spider in gratitude. Then she saw the house spider had put up a small web with the number twelve in the center. She had to be home by midnight.

  She agreed to the terms.

  When she arrived, the party was in full swing. She danced with anyone who asked, dancing several times with the same dance partner who seemed to always be cutting in on the other dancers. She could see her sisters and stepmother at the other end of the ballroom, casting dark glances at her, but she could not make her way over to talk to them because she never stopped dancing. With everyone wearing masks, she did not recognize her dance partner, but she recognized her family.

  When her frequent dance partner offered to get her a cup of dew, she gratefully accepted his kind offer. She decided to try to get to her sisters and mother, but the clock began to strike twelve.

  Her dance partner had gone to the other end of the room to get the dew, so she could not get his attention. However, she had to go. Racing to the exit, she left the room just as he turned to return with the cups of dew. He watched her spin her webbing as she left and raced after her.

  All he could capture was a piece of her webbing. Holding it close to his heart, he returned to the party vowing to find out who she was.

  When she returned home, her dress in shreds, Flutterby went to her pallet by the fire and fell into a deep sleep. She was so sleepy that when her sisters and mother returned from the party she barely woke.

  She heard them come in and one of her sisters say, “The prince was quite taken with her. I wonder who she was and why she left so suddenly.”

  Then she fell asleep dreaming of her dance partner’s arms around her.

  The next morning, as she collected the dew and floated from web to web, she heard the dance music in her head again. Her steps were quick and light, and she returned to the house just as the messenger from the palace arrived announcing the prince was seeking his dance partner, and that there would be a contest to decide who the prince would marry.

  “All the ladies of the land are invited to the palace today at one to demonstrate their web-making skills for the prince.”

  Noir looked at her two daughters and Flutterby, and thanked the messenger. Once they returned to the house, she told them to prepare for the contest. Flutterby was sent to Noir’s room to get the girls and Noir their finest gowns.

  When they arrived at the palace, Flutterby was sent to get them their tickets and cautioned to only get ones for her stepsisters.

  “You will be too busy assisting them to get one for yourself,” she told Flutterby.

  Flutterby agreed, and as she collected the tickets the man handing them out asked her if she wanted one for herself. “Oh no,” she said with a bright smile, “I am only here to assist my sisters.”

  The ticket man handed her the two tickets she requested and held one extra aside. Something told him he might need that one.

  Later, when they were all lined up—Flutterby was behind her sisters with her head down—the prince appeared and said he wanted each Spider Fairy to spin a web for him. “A small one is fine,” he said.

  Everyone handed in their tickets and spun their webs. The prince examined each one, but was not impressed. Most webs were fine and disappeared quickly when he blew on them. When he got to the ones belonging to the stepsisters, he examined them carefully. There were spots where webbing had been disconnected and rejoined with stronger webbing.

  “Who did this?” he asked the sisters.

  “I did,” said Blanche, proudly stepping in front of her sister.

  “No, that one is mine,” said Blau, pushing her sister aside to get closer to the prince.

  Both sisters started to argue. The prince caught sight of Flutterby and smiled at her.

  “And where is your web?” he asked her.

  Noir stepped in front of Flutterby and said, “This is my stepdaughter, Flutterby. She was not at the party, so there was no need to get her a ticket.”

  “Nonetheless, the proclamation stated all the ladies of the land were to be here to show me their webbing,” said the prince, peering around Noir to see Flutterby.

  “She has no ticket,” insisted Noir.

  “Here is her ticket,” said the ticket man, running up when he saw the prince had stopped by Flutterby. “I forgot to give it to her when she picked up the tickets for the sisters.”

  The prince stepped aside and bowed to Flutterby, motioning for her to show him her webbing. She nervously stepped up and spun a delicate, but sturdy, web.

  The prince drew out the piece of webbing he had preserved from the evening before and smiled when he realized it matched.

  Noir, Blanche, and Blau started to argue that she had not attended the ball and could not have been the one. Just then, their house spider arrived, dragging the mask Flutterby had worn at the ball and dropped it at her feet.

  Flutterby kept her eyes downcast, and tried to avoid the pushing bodies of her sisters and stepmother. The prince picked up the mask and then took her by the arm and said, “You were there, weren’t you?”

  Flutterby nodded and smiled at the prince, who smiled back.

  They were married a week later and lived happily ever after. Her stepsisters and stepmother were left in their tiny cottage, where they spent the majority of their time arguing over whose turn it was to collect the morning dew and set the traps for the insects that made up their evening meal.

  About the Author:

  Susan Burdorf hails from Nashville, TN where the Spider Fairies and Bitzy’s (in the shape of her grandchildren Tres and Shaiden) keep her busy with their demands to have stories written about them constantly. Grandma is happy to oblige. Along with writing twisted fairy tales, Susan enjoys writing about zombies and angels, and is currently working on several projects that she hopes to release in 2013. A recent honorable mention winner in the middle grade category of the annual Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators competition of 2012, Susan is completing edits on a steampunk adventure novel which she hopes to release soon. “Writing is an adventure. Every time I open my laptop I am happy to step in to a new world and brave its perils and live in its forests.”

  If you liked this short by Susan Burdorf, be sure to read some of her other work in volumes such as: First Time Dead Vol 3 from May December Publications, where her humorous look at a catfish farmer who encounters thieves in his tanks takes a dramatic turn when he realizes his “guests” are eating his inventory. The story is titled Catfish Ain’t Brain Food and is a humorous take on a mini-zombie invasion. Two angel stories appear in an anthology called Angels Among Us from Write More Publications. Releasing in April of 2013 will be her first novel, The Last Talisman, Book One of The Sisters of the Vein trilogy from Parthenon Press.

  Jack

  by Sarah D. Myers

  “Jack?” a tired voice called out. “Jack? Are you still in bed?”

  “No, Mother,” Jack answered with closed eyes. Knowing what would inevitably come next, he kicked off the blanket with a resigned sigh and immediately shivered as the cool morning air hit him. Reaching down with practiced hands, Jack grabbed a pair of pants and shrugged them on before sitting upright. His feet dangled over the edge of his bed, toes narrowly avoiding the cold wooden floor. He grabbed his
worn, almost threadbare, sweater and put it on in one fluid motion. Grabbing his shoes, Jack attempted to silently walk down the hallway, only to be thwarted by creaky floorboards as he made his way to toward the kitchen.

  He stood still, leaning against the doorjamb as he shoved his shoes on, all the while watching his mother hard at work preparing breakfast. His mind suddenly thought of all the years it had been just the two of them. Jack searched his memory but could only recall a hazy image of his father, who had died when he was only four. A dozen years had passed since then, and Jack tried hard to be the man his mother needed him to be.

  “Jack!” his mother called out again as she stood hunched over the large stove.

  “Yes, Mother,” Jack answered, trying to keep his voice soft, but still startling her.

  “My word, boy,” she sighed, turning around and wiping her hands on her apron, “you scared the living daylights out of me.”

  “Sorry,” he answered, eyes cast down. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Wow …” she said softly, staring at him for a moment. “You looked so much like your father just now.”

  “Do I?” Jack asked, curious to learn more. He absently ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, hoping his mother would elaborate more, but was only met with silence as she turned back to a boiling pot.

  “Jack, breakfast won’t be ready for a few more minutes,” she said while stirring the contents of the pot. “Please go milk the cow before we eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered, pushing off the doorjamb to head outside. His sweater was no match for the cool fall morning. Pulling his arms around himself, Jack bolted for the barn, quickly steering inside before the cold became too intense. The barn walls provided some warmth from the brisk morning.

  “Hey, Lucy. How’s my girl today?” Jack said softly, gently rubbing the family cow on the head. The cow mooed in response before Jack settled down next to her on a stool. He clapped and vigorously rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up a little. “Sorry, my hands are going to be a little cold this morning.”

  For the next several minutes, Jack tried in vain to milk the cow, however the pail remained empty. He stood up and rubbed the cow on the head before trudging back toward the house. Knowing his mother would be unhappy, he braced himself for her reaction as he reentered the house.

  “How many pails did Lucy give us today?” Jack’s mother asked as she pulled a pan out of the oven. Jack stood quietly by the door, debating how to tell his mother the bad news.

  “Well, out with it, boy,” she said, exasperated. “How many pails did she give us? We need milk and we’ve been out of butter for days.”

  “None,” Jack whispered.

  “What was that?” she asked, turning to face fully with her hands on her hips.

  “None,” Jack replied slightly louder.

  “That’s it then,” she answered, turning back to the stove. “After breakfast, you’re to take Lucy to town. If she can’t produce milk for us, then she’ll produce a few meals. You best be sure to get a decent price for her.”

  “What?” Jack gasped. “Mother, we can’t get rid of her. She’s practically a part of the family.”

  “Jack,” his mother sighed as she began dishing up their breakfast, “she’s an animal. She’s not producing milk anymore. We can’t afford to feed ourselves, much less a pet. Don’t give me any sass. Sit down, eat your breakfast, and afterward take the cow to town and sell her.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jack replied dejectedly. They had owned Lucy for as long as Jack could remember, even before his father died. He slowly picked at his breakfast, trying to delay finishing, all the while attempting to formulate a solid argument to keep the cow. His heart felt heavy as he ate the last meager morsel on his plate.

  “Don’t be long,” Mother commanded as Jack placed his plate near the sink.

  “Do we really have to get rid of her?” Jack pleaded. “Maybe I could find work somewhere. Please, Mother, we just can’t just sell her.”

  “We don’t really have a choice, Jack.” Mother sighed. “We’ll starve if we don’t, son.”

  “Please!” Jack tried one more time.

  “No, son,” she answered a little more sternly. “Now go, market will be opening shortly and we have too many chores to do for you to be gone long.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jack replied solemnly as he grabbed his worn jacket from the hook by the door. The trip to town was long, so a jacket was necessary. Wordless, Jack slipped out the door and headed back to the barn. His heart felt heavy as Lucy let out a low moo when he came around to her stall. He reached over, removed a rope from the wall, and gently looped it around her neck.

  “Come on, Lucy,” Jack nudged, “let’s go for a walk.”

  Lucy let out another low moo and slowly followed Jack out of the barn. Jack kept watching his feet as he led Lucy to town. He knew the route to town even blindfolded, and it pained him to have to give up Lucy.

  Jack and Lucy had just crested the last small ridge before town when movement caught his eye. Between them and the wall circling the edge of town was a covered wooden cart. The canvas cover snapped back, startling Jack, as a man thrust his head through the opening. He smiled a toothy grin as he spied the young man and cow nearby.

  “Why hello there!” he bellowed as he climbed down from the cart. “Who are you and where are you going with such a fine looking animal?”

  Jack stood there for a moment, dumbstruck. A heartbeat passed before he spoke.

  “I’m Jack, and this is Lucy,” he answered, nodding his head toward the cow.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Jack,” the man answered as he extended his hand. “I’m Claude, and owner of this fine trader establishment.”

  “You’re a trader?” Jack asked with a slightly dazed feeling.

  “Been trading for better part of forty years now.” He grinned with a twinkle in his eye. “Why, I bet I have something to trade you for that fine, fine looking animal of yours.”

  Jack could feel himself being mesmerized by Claude’s voice. His defenses started to fade as he glanced back between Lucy and Claude.

  “What could you possibly have to trade?” he inquired. “You don’t seem like you’ve have anything I could use.”

  “Why, my boy! I have exactly what you need!” Claude answered, drawing closer to Jack. He wrapped his arm around his shoulder and whispered in his ear, “I have something that would solve all your problems.”

  “What could you possibly have that would solve all my problems?” Jack’s face was shrouded with confusion.

  “These,” Claude announced, opening his hand and revealing a few dried beans in his palm.

  “Beans? The answer to my problem is beans?” Jack choked out, trying to pull away from Claude.

  “These aren’t any beans, boy,” Claude cooed, drawing Jack back in closer again. “These are magic beans.”

  “Magic beans? What’s so magical about these dried up beans?” Jack asked with hesitation.

  “These beans will make your wildest dreams come true,” Claude answered with a calming voice.

  A million ideas suddenly exploded in Jack’s head. Any doubts he felt about Claude and the beans immediately disappeared. Claude’s smile deepened as he slowly poured the meager beans into Jack’s hand.

  “So, do we have a trade?” he asked, gently closing Jack’s hand around the beans.

  Seeming almost hypnotized, Jack nodded in agreement and handed Claude the rope tethering Lucy. Claude quickly took the rope and stepped away from Jack, so suddenly Jack blinked in surprise.

  “What just happened?” Jack asked, grabbing his head as a wave of dizziness started to overtake him.

  Claude smiled again. “You were just telling me about the magic beans you have there.”

  “I was?”

  “Yes, you were telling me about those beans when you stopped suddenly mid-sentence,” Claude replied. “Perhaps you best be running back home, boy. You’re looking a little pa
le.”

  “Yeah, maybe I’m coming down with something,” Jack mumbled, slowly turning back toward the road he had just traveled on. Shoving the beans in his pocket, he slowly started the journey back to his home. His head still felt dizzy until he crossed the threshold of the front door.

  “Jack? Is that you?” his mother’s voice sang out. “I’m in the kitchen. You’ve been gone all day! Did you fetch a good price for Lucy?”

  “What?” Jack asked, shaking the last of the dizziness away as he entered the kitchen, seeing his mother still hard at work at the stove. “What about Lucy?”

  “Don’t be silly, boy, what did you get for selling Lucy?” she demanded, turning around to face Jack with her hands on her hips.

  Jack absently reached into his pocket and pulled out the small group of beans. His mother’s eyes went wide in astonishment.

  “Don’t play around, Jack,” she growled. “What did you get for Lucy?”

  “I got beans, Mother. Magic beans,” he answered robotically, looking from his hand to his mother. “They’re going to solve our problems.”

  “What?” she yelled in horror, snatching the beans from his hand. “Instead of fetching money we direly needed, you received a few beans for our cow?”

  Jack could only stand there ashamed as his mother walked toward the window and hastily tossed them out. He could see the anger in her face and couldn’t help but feel the disappointment emanating from her.

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” he answered softly.

  “Go,” she replied. “Just … go … go to your room, go to bed, go somewhere, just … get away from me for a while.”

  Jack watched for a moment as she sat down wearily in a chair by the table. Dejected, Jack left the kitchen and shuffled back to his room. Even with the stupid stunts he had pulled over the years, Jack had never seen his mother as upset as she was now. He flopped down on his bed and laid there, restless. Mother was moving methodically throughout the house, which left Jack wondering if she was looking for other items he would have to sell in the morning.