The Dirty Dozen: Damsel Edition

by Kay Maree

  I turned back to my boyfriend, still picking at the cereal on a too-big-for-him-now eating tray. “Did you see Lily?”

  Colton shook his head. “No.”

  He knew exactly what I was asking. Yet, he didn’t elaborate. Assuming it was because he remembered, too, how they’d laughed at him and what they’d allowed Simon to do to me, I didn’t push it. We were starting anew and what had happened in the Kingdom of Exley was no one’s business. People would pay to see a flying lady and oddly sized man with fighting skills and that was all that mattered. Now, outside of fairyland, it was time to chase our happily ever after.

  Three months later

  Colton

  It was hard to think she’d be surprised. Hell, there was nothing I hadn’t been willing to do. I’d changed my size, given up my life and even run off to the circus with her. While it wouldn’t be forever, I’d certainly made it clear to Cassandra that, for her, there was nothing I wasn’t willing to do.

  Obviously, I couldn’t ask her father for his daughter’s hand in marriage. So I’d done the next best thing. Paying a visit to Lusus, I’d asked not only for her blessing but for keys to the menagerie and flying stunt tents. I’d propose to her well after the lights went down without the crowds or even clowns. It would be just the two of us and I was positive the girl known to the freaks and paying customers as Morgan Flutterby, the best flying act ever, would say yes. She’d agree to marry me but the proposal would come with conditions. I wasn’t spending my entire life in the circus. We’d give it a year or two but, eventually, I’d return to that forest to get my size back and, later, return to the real world to build my chosen profession as a travelling builder. This stop with the Lusus Naturae Circus was merely temporary; I’d insist on it. And, I didn’t think she’d argue. My soon-to-be wife was already complaining about the RV mattress.

  ~*~

  She’d known something was up when I pulled her out of bed at 2 a.m. and told her I needed to show her something. “Are you on crack? It’s the middle of the night,” she’d said. Yet, she hadn’t fought me. Instead, she’d thrown on her sneakers and followed me to the big tent…

  I flicked on the lights and smiled as the tent flooded with the colors of the show – purple and lime green. While it wasn’t my perfect place, I could see the magic in it and it was hers. I’d watched my wife fly rope to rope before big crowds enough times to understand why she loved it so. “Why are we here?” Cassandra asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  Panic wound its way from my gut to my throat, causing me to pause. Finally, after sucking in a burst of air that tasted of axel grease and stale popcorn, I dropped to one knee. “Cassandra Morgan Exley. Will you marry me?” I pulled a fantastical ring from my pocket and held the box toward her.

  It wasn’t that I feared she’d say no. I’d listened for years about true love and how she could have wound up with Zane. She’d told me a million times how she wasn’t some helpless damsel and that, should we ever seal the deal, our relationship would be one born on equality. But as she raised her fingers to her lips and involuntarily fluttered above me, I swallowed hard. “Well?”

  “Oh, yes! Yes! Please!” she said, her lips turning up as she floated gracefully to the floating concrete stunt floor to join me.

  In seconds, my wife-to-be was covering me in kisses and thanking me. And for the first time since the witches curse and that awful day in the forest, I felt like a normal, average height man even in the human world. Cassandra just had that effect on me. She was my everything.

  ~*~

  Present moment in the human world

  Cassandra

  “The one. The only. The fabulous Morgan Flutterby!”

  Cheers erupt from a packed Saturday matinee as I smile up at the crowd. To think it was only last night when Colton got down on his knee to propose to me feels surreal. I haven’t been able to stop staring at my ring since he put it on my finger. And now, even my chosen stage name does nothing for me as I fly above the crowd, ignoring jealous glares of other members of The Flying Moons 2.0. For the first time ever, and ironically, I feel like a real princess.

  I stand on the twenty-foot wooden platform that I’ll soon plunge from, waiting for the ringmaster to announce the rest of the troupe. Squinting, I’m able to make out the tiny spot of a man I’m sure is Colton. Waving, I wink at him, hoping he catches it. Like the purple glint off my two-carat diamond, there are things I’m sure the crowd will miss. Our history is one.

  Surrounded by freaks of every background, talent, and even criminal history, it’s not impossible to believe that this is the one place we are able to be ourselves. Spotting the token damsel in distress, Marlow Winston, who spends most every Sunday afternoon spinning on the Wheel of Death, I chuckle to myself. Wondering what her story is, I can only hope she someday gets the hint. Royal princess or not, I managed to get out.

  We won’t be here forever. Colton has dreams of his own. Like the pea they all expected me not to know about, I’m also aware that the show always goes on. Someday, I’ll work as a therapist, learning the stories and tales that brought people to their respective circumstances. I’ll hear about princes and princesses whose kingdoms of origin just didn’t work out. I’ll listen with eager ears to the hopes, dreams and plans of others who’ve finally had the courage to make their ways in the world all their own.

  “And now, with no further introductions, I give you the Flying Moons!”

  It’s my cue. And without forcing anything at all, I spread my translucent wings and fly wide and proud above the entire tented stadium. I am home. Gone are the cuts, the sins of Mom, the stocks and even the atrium. It’s my time now. It’s time to give them all the world’s greatest show!

  One year later

  Weeks before the less-than-royal wedding

  I could never go forward without first going back. I knew enough from the mandatory monsters and freaks therapy sessions, where I’d become something of a counselling carnie surrogate, that the only way to move forward was to face the past. While I didn’t need my father to walk me down the aisle, I had to at least make peace with my sister. She would have been my matron of honor…

  Back in Exley, no longer known as fairyland

  I can’t say I’m surprised when Lily tells me she’s miserable with Zane. What is surprising, though, is that it almost feels as if she’s fishing to leave Exley. She won’t come outright and say it. Lily has never been great at admitting when she’s wrong. But after two hours in the palace garden playing catch up, something’s surely off.

  “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out. Thanks for listening.”

  I consider telling her I get paid to listen. I’m curious about what my half-sister would say about my chosen, outside world profession as not only a circus star but also a monster therapist. I feel like Finley, stuck in between skin shifts and not quite sure what to think of it. Before coming to the forest I hadn’t realized how strange it would be to return in the light of day again; where I can’t really hide. But I don’t trust Lily. It’s impossible to forget the things she did to me and why I left the kingdom in the first place. She hasn’t earned the right to know about my new life.

  I run through the stages of differentiation: self-awareness, connectedness and boundaries that I spend so much time reading about on the road. I have all these things. Maybe the past is not something I need to tangle with. But it occurs to me that what’s missing is that connectedness. While I have it with Colton, Lusus, and the circus monsters, I don’t have it with my family of origin. If I can find a way to get that back without losing my self-created identity and while holding my boundaries, things will be different. At the same time, I can help set an example for Lily.

  “I like listening. It’s what helped me to know and understand Colton. It’s how I manage with the humans.”

  Lily laughs. “Oh. Your little man. Are you still with him?”

  I nod. I refuse to let her rip on him ever again. Raising
my eyebrow, I take a chance, “Yes. Twelve fairy years now and no looking back. He’s my everything.”

  Instead of picking on me or the stranger she once tried to have killed, she smiles. “I’m glad for you. I wish things were like that for me and Zane.”

  I feel horrible for her. “Yes, but you have the kingdom. Love isn’t everything.”

  “I suppose.”

  “You know, you could leave.”

  She shakes her head from side to side. Then, picking at her large, bluish wing, she tells me she’s made her decision.

  “You’re self-aware,” I say, forgetting my place. “That’s a great thing. I mean, you know where you are and have made a decision. That’s basically the first step in being happy.”

  It occurs to me that I’m not entirely wrong. It might even be possible that in my sister’s maturity, she’s found some sense of happiness—even if it doesn’t include Zane. In being the first in line fairyland heir now, she has achieved something she’s always craved. Maybe, now, where I’m not a threat, she doesn’t hate me.

  Lily and I spend the next hour or so playing more catch up. Not once does she slam me or even complain more about Zane. Instead, she tells me our father will soon turn over the reins and that there’s been a heap of restructuring with the kingdom. I do my best to act interested, even when she fills me in about Piper and Bella’s marriages, never dropping eye contact and nodding in all the appropriate places, but my mind drifts back to the circus monsters.

  Things change. People change. And everything happens for a reason. These aren’t exactly things we learned in online therapy school; something Truly insisted I sign up for so we have a plan when we finally leave the road. They’re just universal lessons any species or breed is bound to know. In some way or another, we are all connected. And, as Lily talks about Exley, I realize the same has happened with Lusus Nature Circus. For as silly and zany as my new gang of carnie creepers are, they are no different than me. And, the Freaks Matter Too movements are quite the parallel to Lily taking over the kingdom. It’s Lily’s turn now…For the first time since leaving home, I know exactly what to do. I can have my happy ending in both the human and fairy worlds. Best part? I’m the one saving myself and will never again be a damsel like the kind you read about. History aside, if she wants, Lily can have that too.

  The happy ending, after the curse and into the future

  An average day in the life of Morgan H. Flutterby, Psy D, LMFT, former fairy princess, damsel and, later, circus freak

  Status: Fully integrated into the human world

  “Everyone settle down! We can’t be making introductions until the yammering stops. Don’t give our new friend a bad impression,” I say, trying not to roll my eyes. Pulling my wings tight to my back and wishing my hoodie wasn’t so loose, I smile at the group as my clients—monsters and freaks—take their seats.

  After a decade of the same old midnight group therapy, it never fails to fascinate me how much seating reveals. Like a fortune teller’s crystal ball or even tarot cards, where my monsters land is always step one on my compass to treatment plans.

  Jasmyn, the new girl, of course, plops in the only empty seat by me. I wonder how long it will last and what Mason—our resident, socially awkward ghost—thinks of that. Mason, who still hasn’t had the courage to appear to us, will later gripe to me about being sat on. They’ve become as predictable to me as my own quirks and mannerisms—things I’ve learned to hide from them only to keep the group moving.

  Still standing, I extend my hand to Jasmyn, who drops her hand from her mouth to shake it. Her grip tells me nothing—not too limp, not too firm. “Welcome to Coming Out Monster,” I say, pulling my hand back and taking my seat.

  I spend the next ten minutes acclimating our newest group member to the dynamics. Running through the basic rules—treating others with respect, only offering feedback when asked, etcetera—I can’t help but wonder what her problem is. Normally, I can pick it up immediately. If I had to guess, she’s a vampire. The way she carries herself, how she has not once parted her lips, and the tightness of her skin tell me this. But I don’t ask. It will come out when she’s ready. Rule 48. Hell, not much different than it is for the carnies either. Everyone has a right to their secrets.

  “Okay, with that out of the way, who’d like to check-in first today? Brenda? Any luck with the curse?”

  Witchy Brenda, who never speaks first and has been working on her confidence, smiles shyly.

  “Um. Okay. I guess,” she says. “I can go first, I mean. Not the curse. The curse is going horribly. I can’t seem to get it. And it’s not memorizing it. It’s the whole concept of—”

  My God, Regina would have a field day with her. I wonder if she’d be willing to help… Out of the corner of my eye, I see Joe sliding out of his chair. If I don’t stop him, he’ll be on Jasmyn like a dog in heat—literally—before she’s had a chance to speak two words.

  “Joe! No! Don’t do it. We’re working on that!”

  “Yeah, you promised!” Reece says, glaring.

  Joe, our resident co-dependent, dual axis diagnoses werewolf, who’s been here the longest, has never made it more than twenty minutes through a session without humping. A worse sex addict than our one regular visible ghost with a toy obsession, he makes me want to quit my job—daily.

  “Fine,” he pouts, crossing his hands over his chest and moving back up in his chair. “Fifteen minutes. You said the goal is twenty-five.”

  “Thirty,” I say, “An extra five for almost slipping. You said you respond best to cognitive behavioral; not that I’ve seen it yet. Besides, we have a new visitor today. Be good.”

  Sometimes, it’s more like babysitting than anything else. I look over at Jasmyn whose eyebrows are raised and can’t seem to stop looking at the clock. “He’s fine. He’s a werewolf. He humps things. It’s a problem,” I say, as if it doesn’t sound entirely crazy.

  “Jasmyn, what are you?” Brenda asks, the first to take any opportunity to get the subject off her.

  “You were going to tell us about the curse,” I say, redirecting.

  But Jasmyn answers as quickly. “A vampire. A horrible one. I’m afraid of blood.”

  Christ. It’s gonna be a long night. I wonder what Colton’s up to.

  Finley—our resident shape shifter and today, feline—raises her paw, nearly jumping out of her seat and yelling, “Oh! You’re like Brenda! Brenda’s afraid to curse! And not just swear. She can’t cast a spell either. She’s totally useless!”

  “Finley! Words. We talked about this. Words matter! Be careful what you say. Brenda is not useless. Joe, give me another word Finley could have used instead,” I plead, remembering Finley back in her days at the Lusus Naturae show.

  “Sexy. Brenda is sexy,” Joe spits back. Then, he growls.

  Fuck my life. I shake my head. While he’s generally articulate, once he gets a humping craving, well he’s impossible to deal with.

  “Brenda is struggling might have been a better word for this context. Experiencing challenges, having a hard time with, working toward being able to—any of those would be nicer than ‘useless,’ don’t you think?”

  Finley glares at me. Her cat eyes turn a full shade of yellow, brighter than the sun as I tell my wings to chill out. The bitch looks rabid. If I don’t keep control, I’ll be flying over the entire room to knock her out. Fae can be vicious, and I am a retired royal fairy princess—not that anyone knows. “I stand by my word,” Finley says. “Useless. Brenda is totally useless at what she does.”

  “Brenda? How does it make you feel to hear that word in reference to your inability to curse?”

  “She’s right,” Brenda says, sighing. “I am useless. I’m the worst witch in the world. I’m letting my entire coven down!”

  “Yes! Me too,” Jasmyn says. “I can’t even feed without a sippy cup for God’s sake! What kind of vampire is that? I’d have been better off as a ghost or something
. The blood thing just isn’t going to work. Even as a human, I refused to go to the doctor because I was so freaked out by blood.”

  Tibby nods, but I can’t acknowledge her and her melting skin.

  “Don’t do it,” I hiss under my breath as Joe inches his way, legs splayed, closer to Jasmyn. “Thirty minutes. Not a second sooner. And even then, we’re striving to be better. If you need to leave, you can excuse yourself.”

  “Feed?” Brenda asks. “What does that mean?”

  I nearly miss the entire therapeutic alliance forming between our pathetic witch and newest phobic member as Joe flips me the bird. Ignoring him, I turn toward Brenda, waiting for Jasmyn to answer. Next week, they will be sitting next to each other. I can bet on it. Anyone could.

  “She means kill people by sucking their blood,” Tibby Johnson, our vegan zombie says, frowning. “Don’t they have another source? The vampires, I mean?”

  Tibby is looking at me but the entire point of group therapy at Coming Out Monster is to get the members comfortable with working together. Since the Freak Lives Matter too movement, we’ve even been able to secure federal funding—as long as we stick to the billable mandates. I refuse to lose funding.

  I turn to Jasmyn. “You can answer that or not, but you should know that Tibby is a vegan. It’s not personal.”

  Instead of biting Tibby’s decaying throat, Jasmyn smiles at her too. I can see the problem. For a vampire, she’s pretty darn likable, and I can’t fathom her doing anyone harm. Tibby will be sitting on the other side of her too.