1 The Bitches of Everafter

by Barbra Annino

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He approached her and offered the hand that wasn’t holding the screwdriver.

  Snow shook his hand and said, “That’s all right. I wasn’t expecting to hear a man’s voice.”

  “I’m Hansel. I’m the handyman around here.”

  “Snow.”

  “The newest recruit, huh?”

  “More like the newest prisoner.”

  Hansel smiled. “It’s not so bad. Granny acts tough, but she’s got a heart of gold.”

  “If you say so.”

  Hansel aimed his screwdriver at the door. “I’m here to fix the doorknob.”

  “Be my guest,” Snow said.

  “Are you sure? I can come back after you’re settled.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  Hansel grinned at her again. “Great.”

  He opened the door and swept his arm across the threshold. “Ladies first.”

  Snow thanked him and picked up her suitcase.

  “Let me get that for you.” Hansel reached for her luggage but Snow yanked it away.

  “I’ve got it, thanks.”

  Hansel furrowed his brow but didn’t protest.

  Snow wasn’t used to opulence or large living spaces, but this room was hardly bigger than a closet. A rickety white chair stuck out from beneath a desk fashioned from an old door that had been slathered with layers of paint. Shades of blue, pink, and mint green swirled across the edges where the white top coat had chipped. It was held up by four claw-footed legs that had likely come from an old dining table. There was a bed shoved up against the far wall below a small round window. It had been stripped of its comforts, leaving not even a pillow in sight. The walls were a dull grey color, the floor warped oak planks. Next to the desk was a closet. Snow set her belongings on the floor in front of it and peeked inside. The space was only about a foot deep and two feet wide. A single wire hanger hung limply from the bar.

  Snow shoved the suitcase and her bag in the closet and shut the door. She turned to find Hansel working on the doorknob, his concentration aimed at his task. A small dresser with three drawers stood opposite the closet. It had no feet and was missing a few knobs, but at least it would serve to stash her things.

  Snow didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. She settled on a heavy sigh and sat on the bare mattress.

  Hansel looked over at her, his face open and honest. She sensed that he pitied her. She hated being pitied.

  He stood abruptly and said, “You know, whenever I’m feeling blue, I find a lollipop helps.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cherry-red sucker and held it out to Snow.

  She looked at him as if he were mad.

  Hansel grinned, and Snow noticed his chin had a deep dimple. He waved the candy in her face.

  “It’s a fact of life that you can’t be sad when you’re sucking on a lollipop. Give it a try.”

  It was so absurd that Snow couldn’t resist. She accepted the sucker. “Thank you.”

  “There’s more where that came from,” he told her. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth. Although most of the other, er, residents don’t eat candy. Watching their figures, I guess.”

  Snow managed a small smile. “I appreciate your kindness, Hansel, but I’m awfully tired.”

  Hansel smacked his forehead with his palm. “Of course. I’m all done here, so I’ll get out of your hair. If anything else needs fixing, you just let Granny know. She’ll get hold of me.”

  Snow thought, my life needs fixing. Do you have a magic wand in that tool belt? Of course she didn’t dare say that. “I will. Thank you.”

  Hansel smiled, tucked the screwdriver into his tool belt, and headed for the door. He stopped and turned toward Snow. “You know, you seem like a nice person. Just...” he tapped the doorway with his fingers. “…remember they can’t take that away from you.”

  Snow watched Hansel leave wondering what in the world he meant by that.

  She stood up and closed the door behind the handyman. Then she pulled out Granny’s house rules list and read.

  5

  Beauty and the Beast

  Granny’s House Rules

  1. No alcohol

  2. No men

  3. No horseplay

  4. Complete all chores in a timely fashion

  5. Do not be late for community service

  6. Rooms must be kept tidy

  7. No mirrors

  8. Be on time for group therapy

  9. Be on time for Sunday supper

  10. No fighting

  11. No foul language

  12. Curfew is 9 pm

  13. Stay out of areas marked “Do Not Enter”

  14. Sleep in your designated room

  15. Lights out by 10 pm

  16. Clean the bathroom as indicated on the posted task list

  17. No loud music

  18. No visitors unless approved via the sign-up sheet at the designated hour

  19. No books

  20. Meet with your parole officer

  Failure to comply with these rules will result in severe punishment. Three strikes will result in expulsion from Granny’s house.

  Snow read the rest of the information on the rules sheet and noted the relevant times and dates. Sunday dinner was six o’clock sharp and all the girls were to contribute in the preparation, presentation, and conversation of the meal. There would be a notice posted every Saturday night with tasks assigned to each resident.

  That didn’t sound so bad. Snow liked cooking, even cleaning, and she especially enjoyed making her surroundings beautiful. She looked around the dreary room that was her temporary home and wondered if she would be allowed to paint it—possibly hang some artwork or at least a curtain. Perhaps she would ask one of the other girls if that was permitted. She doubted she could make it as cozy and esthetically pleasing as her cottage, but anything was better than the depressing state of it now.

  Her community service times were also noted on the sheet. Three afternoons a week at the local animal shelter. That was the best news she’d had all day. There would be no problem fulfilling those duties, she was certain. She wondered what the others had been tasked to do.

  She set the sheet of paper on the desk and began to unpack. While most of the rules seemed fairly straightforward and reasonable, she couldn’t help but wonder about the ‘no books’ and ‘no mirrors’ rule. She wasn’t a vain woman, but it seemed odd to banish all looking glasses. And why no books? That was cruel and unusual punishment, especially with the atrocious selection of magazines in the parlor downstairs. Snow decided she would have to sneak in some reading time outside of the house. She suspected if she were to question Granny about any of her rules she would be met with hostility, and she didn’t need the grief. She would do her time, keep her nose out of trouble, and get through this as painlessly as possible.

  Exhausted as she was, Snow decided she should search for a linen closet so that she could make her bed and take a nap. It was the first Friday in a long while that she didn’t have plans. Although now, it wouldn’t be the last.

  She tucked her suitcase inside the closet and went to search for bedding.

  The bathroom was located at the end of the long hallway. Snow stepped inside to wash up and see if she could find sheets and blankets. The room was painted a pale pink, and someone long ago had stenciled a border of cabbage roses and vines in a circular pattern over the sink where it seemed a mirror once hung. A mirror that was no longer there. The tile and the tub were the same shade of pink, although rust stains traced the path of water from the shower head all the way down to the drain.

  There was a window on the far wall and Snow peered out of it. Below, she could see the faded outline of rows where a vegetable garden must have once been. There were garlic plants trying and failing to thrive, as well as chives and dill, but it hadn’t been cared for in quite some time. To her right, she spotted a lonely apple tree with a few sickly blossoms. This late in the summer, it sh
ould be hosting at least some small fruit. What a waste of good land, Snow thought. She imagined that Granny had grown too old or too arthritic to care for it, but she wondered why the old woman didn’t enlist the help of her charges to bring the garden—and what may once have been an orchard—back to life. Surely it would cut down on expenses.

  A scream pierced the bathroom door and Snow ran outside to see who owned it. It was Punzie, still wearing the green sequined top, although now with a tight black skirt over the matching bottoms. She wore platform heels taller than any Snow had ever dared and she was wrestling with what looked like a tiger.

  “Beast, let go right now!”

  Punzie was standing at the end of the hallway near the stairs. The animal, Snow realized, who had tiger-like stripes in black, orange, and tan, was in fact a dog. The largest dog Snow had ever laid eyes on, with a head like a watermelon, paws like dinner plates and ears that poked the ceiling.

  The dog tugged on Punzie’s braid, and Punzie tugged back.

  “I mean it, Beast. Let. Go.”

  Snow stood there, her mouth agape not sure what to do. Punzie was a bit more resourceful. She removed her shoe and threw it at the dog. It bounced off him like a rubber ball.

  The dog growled, still holding on to the rope that was Punzie’s hair.

  Snow rushed forward just as Punzie was about to remove her other shoe. “Wait, don’t hurt him.”

  Punzie glared at her. “Do I look like I’m hurting him? He’s about to eat my head, for fuck’s sake!”

  Rule number eleven. No foul language. Snow didn’t want to see anyone get in trouble. “Maybe I can help.”

  “See if Bella’s here. She’s the only one that can tame Beast.”

  Snow didn’t know who Bella was, nor where to begin looking for her, but she had a better plan of action.

  She calmly walked over to the dog. Punzie was dangerously close to the edge of the stairs, and she knew if Beast let go the woman would tumble down them, especially now that she was off kilter wearing only one shoe.

  “Stop pulling, Punzie. He thinks it’s a game. If you give up, so will he.”

  Beast slid a sideways look at Snow as if she had just given away his best-kept secret.

  “If I stop pulling, he’s going to chew my braid off. Have you seen the size of his teeth? I can’t lose my bread and butter.”

  Snow bent down and whispered in the dog’s ear. “How about I get you a nice bone to chew on. Would you like that?”

  Beast’s left ear twisted sideways, aimed at Snow. She could sense his hesitation. He was considering it. “Let go of the rope and I’ll get you a nice bone. And perhaps we can play fetch afterward.”

  Beast grunted and gave Punzie’s braid another tug.

  “Great plan, Princess.” Punzie pulled back. “How about you let go, Beast, and I won’t chop your nuts off.”

  “Punzie, stop pulling. I’m telling you he’ll stop if you do,” Snow said. To Beast she said, “I’ll throw in a nice long walk too.”

  The dog was a tough negotiator, but that did the trick. Snow could feel Beast relenting. Unfortunately, Beast was smarter than Punzie who gave her braid one last yank just as Beast let go.

  As the hazel eyed woman tumbled down the stairs, shouting obscenities the entire time, Snow was certain she saw the dog smile. He sat down.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” she scolded Beast. He pinned his ears back and lowered his head.

  Snow hurried down the stairs to see if Punzie was all right.

  She reached out to help her housemate peel herself off the floor. “Are you hurt?”

  Punzie’s response was, “I’m fine, no thanks to you.” She examined her bruised hip as Snow rushed back up the stairs to retrieve the shoe. Beast was holding it hostage in his mouth.

  “Drop.” Snow said and Beast obliged.

  She rushed down the stairs and handed Punzie the slobber-covered heel.

  Punzie held onto the railing as she slipped the shoe on her foot, testing out her ankle. It looked swollen.

  “That may be sprained,” Snow said.

  “It better not be or the asshole I work for will make me do lap dances all night.” Punzie rubbed her shoulder where another bruise was forming. “And then I will cut your nuts off, Beast, you hear me?”

  Beast chortled.

  “I tried to help,” Snow said.

  Punzie sighed. “Look, Princess, I get that you’re trying to fit into this house of horrors, but we all pretty much do our own thing around here. So don’t make nicey-nice, don’t suck up to Granny, and don’t think we’ll be braiding each other’s hair, okay? This isn’t fairytale land.”

  Snow put her hands up. “Fine.”

  Punzie grunted. Then she hobbled out the door to what Snow assumed was her job as a stripper.

  After a long talk with Beast, who she discovered was Bella’s dog, Snow made good on her promises. They walked, they played a few rounds of fetch with a log he found in the back yard, and afterwards she gave him a bone the size of a dinosaur leg she found in the shed near the weed-choked garden. Then Snow White, completely spent from the day’s drama, fell fast asleep in a bed that still had no linens.

  That night, she dreamed of a dark forest and a man brandishing a sharp ax.

  6

  Robin in the Hood

  Robin Hood used to love his job. He used to rise every morning with a smile on his face and a spring in his step because he knew that his work was important. Keeping folks who had lost their way on the straight and narrow and helping the less fortunate souls who came across his desk was a dream come true for Robin. Yes sir, being a parole officer was the life for him. He was born to do it. The satisfaction he got from turning a troubled person around and aiming him or her in the right direction was like a drug —a drug he could take every day of his life and never grow tired of. He used to walk down the street, head held high, knowing that each day he would make a difference. He was a cheerful fellow, an easy-going guy. Some even called him merry. But that all changed when Judge Redhood assigned him the case files from Granny’s Home For Girls.

  As he sat in his rusty Pinto in front of the rustier iron gate, Robin sipped bitter coffee from a Styrofoam cup and wondered for the umpteenth time how a man of his caliber and courage, someone who had fought against injustice in Everafter for as long as he could remember, could wind up like this.

  He cracked his neck, cringing at the pain from the shoulder injury he had sustained during his last parole meeting with Aura. She had just been about to enter the house when Robin tapped her on the shoulder. Before he knew what hit him, she had his arm twisted up behind his back and was slamming his face into the concrete.

  He still had the black eye, although it was more of a yellow shade now.

  The car thief insisted she hadn’t known it was him. That he had startled her. That may have been true, but he couldn’t help but think these women had some sort of backdoor wager in place to see who could make his life most miserable.

  Robin dunked a frosted doughnut into his coffee and bit into the sugary sweetness. He never used to indulge in such confections—he viewed his body as a temple and kept in shape with fencing, running, and weight lifting. But that was twenty pounds and several bitches ago. He would never ordinarily refer to a woman in such a vulgar manner—it’s just that they were so mean. They didn’t respect Robin, the badge he stood behind, or the important work he did. They saw him as an obstacle. A man who stood in between them and their freedom. As if he wanted to catch them doing something wrong so he could add another black mark to their records. But that wasn’t his intention at all.

  All they had to do was stay out of trouble and Robin would be more than thrilled to sign the paperwork that would turn them loose on Everafter. They would no longer be his problem. They would be the town’s problem.

  So far they had technically kept their noses clean, but their antics and the way they taunted him were grating on his last nerve. It kept him up nights, wondering what sor
t of prank they might pull next, and which body part would be broken or bleeding the next day. When they might decide to tamper with his car or his computer or his cell phone. They were crafty, those women, that was for sure. Except that he could never prove it. It wasn’t like he could discipline them for their smart mouths—they had the same right to speak their minds as anyone else in the eyes of the law. And injuries like the black eye he’d carried around for a week couldn’t be counted against them either. If Aura swore she was only defending herself, fearing he was an ax murderer sneaking up behind her, then all he could do was take her word for it. After all, his visits were designed specifically to surprise the parolees.

  The impromptu drop-ins were not Robin’s idea. They were ordered by Judge Redhood, who, truth be told, wasn’t very different from the women on his roster. She had a nasty streak, that one.

  He took another bite of his doughnut, dreading his first meeting with this newest criminal. She looked harmless enough, with her doe eyes, modest attire, and shiny black hair, but looks, Robin had learned, could be deceiving. As an extra precaution, he was wearing a cup today. He’d learned that lesson from Punzie. She was a kicker.

  He drained the rest of his coffee, tossed the cup in the back seat, and got out of the car. The Saturday morning meetings were planned. He met with all of the women as a group to collect their community service sign-offs, to ensure they had followed all of Granny’s house rules, to check the therapy progress reports, and to answer any concerns they might have.

  He did a quick scan of his appearance. His shirt seemed clean enough. No coffee stains this time, but it had escaped from his pants so he tucked it back in. The waistband was a bit snug. He would have to ask Marion to let the waist out again.

  Sweet Marion, who was like soft rain on a summer afternoon. She was everything to Robin. She was the one thing he looked forward to every day. When he came home at night after a long day of abuse, he found comfort in Marion’s arms. Often, she asked about his work, asked what troubled him, and every time he insisted it was business as usual. He didn’t want to worry his bride, and more importantly he didn’t want to complicate his life any more than it already was. Marion was fiercely protective of her loved ones and quick with a bow, so Robin decided it best not to tell his wife the sordid details of his latest cases, lest she take matters into her own hands.