The Widow’s Curse

by Lucas Flores

  Blackheart chuckled. “Well, you do indeed stand out.”

  The two stood side-by-side when the queen’s arrival was formally announced. Applause and cheers erupted from the vast assemblage of white hair as the queen strutted into the room through a veil of red curtains.

  The planner gasped and covered his face with his hands.

  “Haaa!” Blackheart burst into laughter.

  The queen wore the exact same outfit as the planner. The only difference was that her body was the polar opposite of his. While he had too much to hide, the queen didn’t have enough. She over-exposed her shriveled body in front of the crowd, but the people were wise enough to not notice.

  Everyone but the planner applauded. “Maybe no one will notice,” he whispered to Blackheart.

  She stifled her laughter. “There is no way anyone could not notice.”

  * * *

  Smiling, the queen waved to the crowd. The princess, outfitted in a white frilly gown, was carried in by a ceremoniously dressed servant and tucked into a bassinet near the throne.

  “Why haven’t I done this sooner,” the queen said as she took her seat. She soaked in the praise from the crowd. Their enthusiasm filled her with the confidence she had carried before the curse overtook her.

  A steward announced the names of families present. One by one, each family approached the throne and adorned the princess with gifts. They shoved the previous family’s gifts over to make room for theirs. After a short while, the bassinet could hardly be seen. Mountains of ornately wrapped boxes towered over the baby.

  When no more names were called, the queen stood and surveyed the room. Her gaze shifted from one table to the next, smiling and nodding at the attendees. One of the tables in the back of the room, however, caught her attention. An odd-shaped object sat near the glass centerpiece.

  “Planner, you’re the closest. Bring that gift to me, please.”

  “That’s not mine,” the planner responded from behind a nearby flower arrangement.

  “Well, of course it’s not yours. Bring it to me.”

  A whimper escaped his lips. He stepped out from behind the arrangement, looked around the room, and took a deep breath. With the object in hand, he lifted his head high into the air and strutted through the tables to where the queen stood.

  “The gift you’re carrying appears to be the last one,” she said with her arms stretched out before her. “I wonder who it’s from,” she mumbled as she fondled the large, decorative egg plated in gold and encrusted with jewels. It definitely stood out from the mundane gifts that circled around the princess’ bassinet.

  Attached to the egg was a card that read “Princess” in dark red print.

  “What’s wrong with you?” the queen asked, narrowing her eyes and glancing down at the planner. “You’re pouring sweat out of every inch of your body.”

  “Oh no . . .” the planner stuttered. “I .. . . I . . .”

  “I’ve never seen someone sweat so much!” the queen continued. “Even your fat little toes are sweating!” The crowd roared with laughter.

  “My toes, Your Majesty?” The planner ran his hand across his wet forehead and looked down at his feet.

  “Yes, your toes,” she said. “It’s hard not to notice your little piggies. They’re practically popping out of your girlish sandals!”

  With a nervous smile, he remained quiet.

  “Go on and show everyone how you look,” the queen ordered.

  The planner pivoted to face the crowd. He walked across the room in front of the queen’s throne. The people laughed and teased in the midst of applause.

  The queen broke into laughter as well. “You’re done here, Planner. Get your cheap jewelry and fat ass out of my sight! Go and eat a cake!”

  The following morning, the queen ordered guards to open and organize the gifts by type. Rows of perfumes, jewelry, and clothing sat atop tables—most of the gifts were obviously meant for the queen, not the princess. However, the back table was covered with dolls. Each one was more lifelike than the other. Each wore a perfectly molded and painted smile and quietly stared out into the room.

  The queen passed through every setup and picked out what she wanted. Soon, her hands and arms were loaded down with rings, gold necklaces, and the egg. She walked beside the table of dolls without even glancing at the soulless toys. Before she turned away from the table, an older servant quickly approached carrying a pile of dresses and expensive fabrics.

  “Don’t forget to look through these as well, Your Majesty,” she said from behind the mountain of fabrics.

  “Watch where you’re going, you fool!” The queen took a step back to avoid colliding with the servant and instead bumped into the table with the dolls. They toppled over and shattered into large pieces when they hit floor.

  “You there, oaf with the fabrics, take everything in here up to the Princess’ room. And clean up this mess that you caused.” The queen looked down at the mess. Six doll heads were all that remained intact. “Hmmm,” she said. “Give these heads to the young girl who now occupies Marie’s room.”

  The servant unloaded the fabrics onto a nearby table and looked down at the mess.

  “You do know which girl I’m talking about, correct?”

  The servant nodded.

  * * *

  Red jumped off her bed when she heard a knock at her door. Who could it be? No one had ever knocked before. Everyone just barged in and told her about something she did wrong.

  When Red opened the door, one of the older servants stood outside in the hallway. “May I come in?” she asked. Her face was worn. She looked tired.

  Red looked around and nervously tugged at her ear. “Um .. . . okay.”

  The woman laughed as she walked inside and closed the door. “Don’t worry, dear, I’m one of the good guys around here. Look.” She held out one of the doll heads in the palm of her hand. “This was left from the princess’ shower last night.”

  Red hesitated before taking a closer look. It was unlike a servant to think of somebody else in the West Wing. Although they worked in pairs in the palace, all of the servants acted like strangers and didn’t seem to care about one another. Interactions between servants usually consisted of arguments over food and water.

  She reached out and touched the top of the head with her fingertip. Since being taken to the palace, she hadn’t had any toys or a doll to play with. Her life consisted of nothing but work, waking up every morning and scrubbing the floors until after sunset.

  “Take it, girl,” the servant said. “I can’t stand here all night.”

  Red hesitated. Though she wanted something to call her own, she knew better than to trust the servant.

  “I got more in my pocket,” the older woman continued. “I know you want these pretty little things. They’re just scraps, but these heads are so precious and you could play with them. Every girl has to have something nice to play with.” The servant placed the heads on Red’s bed. “You see, they’re so pretty, for a pretty little girl like you. I’ll give them to you. All you have to do is bring me some food. I’ve seen how easy it is for you to slip in and out of the kitchen.”

  “I don’t go into the kitchen.” Red knew better than to tell the truth when it came to food.

  “Listen, sweetheart, I’m not mad that you do it. There isn’t enough food to feed everyone in the West Wing. You understand what I’m saying, right?” The servant paused and scratched at her head, then smiled. “In fact, I’m happy that you do get some. Just bring me some food when you go and I’ll give you these dolls. If you don’t, I’ll have to tell the foreman that you’ve been sneaking into the kitchen and stealing the queen’s food. And you know what they do to little girls who steal the queen’s food, right?”

  Staring at the dolls’ heads, Red shook her head.

  “They cut their pretty little heads off, like these dolls,” the servant answered. “Just listen to Auntie.”

  Red stared at the dolls and was reminded of he
r mom’s twitching headless body. Tears filled her eyes.

  “Oh no, don’t do that.” Auntie said. She kneeled down and whisked Red’s tears off her face. She picked up the girl and sat down with her on the bed. “Now, now, my dear. Stop that. Everything will be all right. Be a good girl and both of us will be all right.”

  The comfort of the servant’s words and motherly touch extinguished Red’s hesitation and anxiety. Longing to have the affection she lost, Red unwittingly wrapped her tiny arms around Auntie. “When you come back tomorrow night, you’ll have your dolls to play with,” the old woman said with a smile.

  Red couldn’t help but smile back. Six doll heads! Now she’d have something to do every night, things to play with. And with Auntie, she could have something of a family, like the way it used to be before she was taken to the palace.

  Red worked harder than ever the next day. She trudged from room to room with her pail of soapy water and brush and scrubbed the marble floors. She looked forward to the end of the day when she would return back to her room.

  At sunset, the palace rooms were bathed in gold, purple, and reddish hues. Red enjoyed this part of the day the most because the marble floors reflected the setting sunlight that poured through the windows and marked that the day was almost over. More so than previous days, Red shook her tiny feet in anticipation of the shift change.

  After twelve hours of work, the bells rang. Their meals were ready for them back in the West Wing.

  Red, in her damp cloak, ran away from the crowd of servants and headed toward the kitchen. It was easy for her to sneak in. The staff barely noticed her. They were too preoccupied with preparing the queen’s meal and running plates, forks, spoons, cups, and glasses upstairs to the queen’s personal dining room. When the kitchen was empty, Red snagged a turkey leg off one of the turkeys and took two dinner rolls from the bread basket. No one would notice the missing food. Blackheart usually demanded a full spread of food, enough to feed a party, so the chef always prepared a lot.

  Red ran down the halls and back to her room.

  “Well, what did you bring?” Auntie asked.

  Red pulled the food out from her pockets. A little smile peeked across her face.

  “You even wrapped it in towels!” Auntie exclaimed. “How did you .. . . Oh, my dear God!” She unwrapped the towels and saw the turkey leg and two dinner rolls. Overwhelmed, she dropped to her knees and hugged Red.

  In turn, Red softly wiped away her tears.

  “You’re an angel!” Auntie exclaimed. “We have ourselves a meal, my sweet child.”

  * * *

  Elsewhere in the palace, the queen and Blackheart were escorted into the dining room. The two sat at opposite ends of the table. A feast that could easily feed ten people stretched out on silver platters between them.

  The chef stood quietly by the queen’s side and waited for her approval. The queen nodded and waved her hand nonchalantly. He bowed and turned to leave the dining room.

  “Wait,” Blackheart called out from her seat.

  The chef froze and turned around. “Yes, Your Grace? Is everything okay?”

  “No! Everything is not okay.”

  “I prepared everything you asked for,” the chef replied.

  Blackheart grabbed her glass of wine and threw it at the chef. “Are you blind? Have you lost your ability to see? Otherwise, you would have noticed that one of my turkeys is missing a leg!”

  “That’s enough, you whiney cow,” the queen said from across the table. “It’s not like you can eat all of this.”

  “Just because you barely eat doesn’t mean I don’t, little cousin,” Blackheart snapped. “Just go back to pretending to eat. I want my turkey leg.”

  “The leg probably fell off, Your Grace,” the chef said. “Please forgive my error.”

  “Accept the man’s apology or you’ll wake up tomorrow morning in a room full of turkeys,” the queen joked and started to laugh. “You’ll probably wake up with turkey scat all over your face. You could eat that if you’re still hungry.”

  Blackheart puffed out a mouthful of air and looked away. “You may leave, Chef! This should never happen again, do you understand?”

  “Yes. Yes, Your Grace,” the chef stuttered. He let out a sigh of relief and bowed to Blackheart. Then he bowed to the queen before darting out of the room.

  “What has gotten into you?” Blackheart asked.

  “Just shut up and eat your turkey,” the queen replied.

  CHAPTER 9

  The next morning, Red woke to the booming sounds of the morning bells. She only had a few minutes to get ready and check in with the foreman, but woke up feeling a little heavy, still full from the night before.

  The last thing she wanted was to get out of bed. She turned to her side, stretched, and yawned. She wiped the sleep off her face and fixed her gaze on the six doll heads that sat perfectly still in front of her. She grabbed the biggest one. It was as delicate as a rose and as beautiful as the princess in the stories her mom used to read at bedtime.

  “Hello, Princess,” Red said as she picked up the head.

  “Good morning,” Red replied, playfully disguising her voice to sound like a dainty princess. “How are you today?”

  “I’m fine, Your Majesty,” Red replied. “How are you friends?”

  “My friends are great, thank you,” the doll responded.

  She turned the head to the right and then to the left as if the princess was looking for something. Then she tilted the head and asked, “Where is your family, child?”

  “I don’t have any family,” Red replied.

  “Do you have any friends?” the doll asked.

  “None,” Red answered.

  “What?” the doll asked. “You mean to tell me you have no family or friends?”

  “No, none,” Red replied.

  “Well, my friends will be your friends if you like,” the doll said.

  Red giggled. “But your friends look funny. One of them is a rabbit and the other has a giant hat.”

  Red turned the princess toward the doll heads and playfully said, “She doesn’t mean that. She’s just not used to having friends around her.”

  Just at that moment, the foreman kicked open Red’s door and stormed into the room. “Damn you, stupid girl!” she shouted. “I am not your babysitter!” The foreman pulled Red out of bed and poured a pail of cold water over her. “There. Are you awake yet? Dry yourself off and get your tiny ass ready. If Blackheart finds out you’re not at your station, she’ll have my head.”

  Red trembled. Her mom and dad were always soft-spoken and gentle with her. She dried off as quickly as possible and changed into her work clothes.

  “You’ll be scrubbing the court floors in the mornings this week,” the foreman said. “You have to be done and out of the courtroom by the time the queen meets with the governors. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” When she was done getting dressed, she stood in front of the foreman for inspection. Red’s cloak nearly covered every inch of her body. All anyone could see was the tip of her nose.

  The foreman grunted as she made sure Red was properly dressed and ready for the day. “Well? What are you doing standing around here for? You’re already late.”

  Red ran out of her room as fast as she could. But, before she left the West Wing, Auntie grabbed her and pulled her aside.

  “Where are you running to?” she asked.

  Red pulled herself away. “I’m late. I’m late!”

  “Well, don’t forget about tonight. Bring me back something good, okay?” Auntie said loudly but in a sympathetic tone.

  “Okay,” Red agreed before darting down the hall.

  Red gathered buckets of water from the laundry room. She carried the buckets, one by one, across the palace to the courtroom until she had enough water to clean the floors. She then poured soap into the buckets and swooshed the water with her brush until it foamed. Watching the water turn into a cloud of white froth was one of
the more enjoyable moments of her day.

  Red stuck her hands into the foam, scooped up a small amount, and smashed her hands together. The foam splattered in all directions and floated to the ground. Was this what clouds felt like?

  Red dried her hands and got back to work. She only had a couple of hours before the courtroom filled with people. She took the pail of soapy water and carried it to the far end of the room, grabbed her brush, and started scrubbing the floors. Slowly she cleaned her way to the door. When done, she used a wet cloth to wipe up any soap residue that was left behind before starting all over again in a different room.

  It was the same routine every morning. Sometimes the days were a blur of white-speckled marble because that was all Red saw until the evening bells rang. But now she had something to look forward to – dinner with Auntie.

  Each night, Red did as she was told and snuck into the kitchen. She grabbed a few things and easily ran out with dinner for two.

  One evening, when she got to the West Wing with her pockets loaded with food, a servant grabbed her. “What were you doing in the kitchen, you little rat?” She patted Red down and looked for anything to prove her suspicion. “Tell me.”

  “Help! Someone help! She’s dying!” Red screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Arguing and fighting was a normal occurrence in the West Wing. Everyone had to fend for themselves to keep what they had or to take what they needed. But when a servant died, their belongings went up for grabs. Finders keepers.

  A swarm of women filled the hallway to look for themselves. “Is she really dying?” one woman asked. She and the others pushed themselves between Red and the snoopy servant to make sure. Some reached into the servant’s pockets to grab what they could while others ran straight to her room to claim her possessions.

  The mob easily pushed Red away and allowed her to run back to her room where Auntie was waiting for her.