Mrs. Beast

by Pamela Ditchoff

  "As was told to me by my Mother . . . "

  Beauty shifts her weight, settling like a hen on eggs, pleased Scheherazade gives credit to her mother instead of starting with Once upon a time.

  After Gothel cut Mother’s beautiful hair, she hopped around the tower and chanted these words: Funnel form magical storm, whirl and curl about this girl, a ferocious wind for she who sinned, carry her within a twister, drop her where she will burn and blister.

  “Wind whooshed in the window and coiled around Mother. Up and up it swirled, gathering speed, sucking in dolls, cheese, apples and sausages. Up and up the whirlwind climbed.” Scheherazade’s arms writhe like two snakes and Beauty is mesmerized. “It exploded the roof—Ka—boom! Once loose, the wind whisked through the sky carrying Mother far from Grimm Land. The force was so great that by the time it set her down, her hair was once more flowing around her ankles.”

  “And the sand was so hot, her slippers burned away,” Omar interjects. Beauty knows if it were any other time of day, Scheherazade would snap at her twin, but she’s indulgent with an attentive audience.

  “A desert wasteland without pasture and without water. The ground was flat for miles in every direction with neither a bush nor a green leaf. No bird sang and neither snake nor a lizard cooled beneath a rock. The sun so was bright, Mother could barely see and the wind plummeted her body like the wings of a giant raptor. All her life she had been enclosed by walls.”

  Scheherazade lowers her voice confidentially. “Have you ever seen a cat, that has always lived indoors, be put outside? It hunkers in the grass, paralyzed and meowing, desperate for a hiding place from the terrible openness. There was no refuge for Rapunzel. Three days and three nights she wailed until her throat was raw. She wept and drank her tears until her eyes were dry and crusted. Finally, she wound her hair about her like a shroud and laid down to die.”

  Although Beauty knows Rapunzel survived the desert, she’s caught up in the tale and gathers a lock of hair to twist between her fingers.

  "As the sun set on her third day in the desert, the ground began to tremble beneath Mother. She had not the strength to raise her head, but through the slits of her swollen eyes, she saw them riding through the purple haze. Bedouins, nomads of the desert. The hooves of their war mares and racing camels thundered closer and closer, and a pair of muscular arms whisked her up onto a saddle." Scheherazade closes her eyes and pauses for effect. Beauty is on the edge of her pillow.

  "Her savior was Prince Fazel, the man who would be my father. His olive-skinned face was oval with a highbred, aquiline nose. His dark eyes were large and brilliant.”

  "I remember his face," Omar says. He picks up a wooden flute and blows a desert serenade.

  "Fazel smiled at her, showing dazzling white teeth beneath his fine black mustache. He wore a linen kaffiyah from which protruded two braids on either side of his head. Rapunzel hooked her fingers in his braids and pulled his lips to hers. Then Prince Fazel tilted back his throat, let loose a howl, and applied his heels to the mare. Riding into the thick of the camp, they were surrounded by throngs of ululating women."

  "You-you what?" Beauty asks.

  "Ululate, a noise made by shrieking while moving the tongue rapidly, not unlike the gobble of a turkey," Omar explains. "Mother often ululates at night. It's quite amazing."

  "Well, it frightened her then,” Scheherazade snaps. “Mobs of people, barking dogs, grunting camels, bleating sheep, an intolerable racket. Mother clawed at Fazel like a treed possum. He wrapped her in his cloak and carried her to the tent of his father, Supreme Chief Amir Nuri.

  “I must make clear, Scheherazade looks pointedly at Beauty, “Bedouin law affords safety to strangers, and women are never taken prisoner nor murdered on raids as men are. Fazel took her to the woman’s side of the tent where the Chief’s six current wives and twenty of his forty-seven daughters were gathered. He unfurled his cloak, Mother’s hair tumbled to the floor, and the woman gasped. Among Bedouins, a woman’s most valued ornament is his hair. Every young Bedouin man wants to marry a girl with long tresses. And, yellow hair is prized. Lots of Bedouin women dye their hair with yellow henna, their palms and nails too.”

  Omar sets the flute aside. “Their hair is not the same golden color as Mothers’.”

  Beauty nods; she can’t imagine anyone who has ever lived having hair more beautiful than Rapunzel’s. She also believes she detected a caustic tone to Omar’s voice. No mistaking Scheherazade’s irritation as she continues.

  “When Mother turned to the women, they thrust their yellow palms outward, hid their faces, and ran from the tent. Chief Nuri, who had been outside inspecting the stolen livestock, came in to see what the commotion was about. One look at Mother and he knew. For the next hour, the Chief and his four eldest of twenty-two living sons discussed what should be done with mother. A beautiful woman is a good omen, and they all agreed she was a beauty. However, Bedouins believe green eyes can bestow the evil eye. Was she a Jinn who had lived underground? With such white skin, pale and large eyes, and the strange tongue she speaks, what powers might she possess? Chief Nuri decided Mother should be entrusted to Fazel’s care since he had rescued her. Prince Fazel erected a tent for Mother, and the courtship commenced, but not without obstacles.”

  Omar leaps to his feet. “I’m bored with this old story. I’m going to bed,” he snarls.

  “He harbors resentments and is still a bit afraid of those days,” Scheherazade whispers. “Mother wasn’t afraid anymore, for she had fallen in love with Fazel and wanted to belong to his huge family more than anything she had ever wanted. To please the tribe, and especially Prince Fazel, she was determined to learn the Bedouin ways. A dutiful Bedouin woman prepares meals, sews, collects camel hair to weave into garments, and bears children."

  Scheherazade shrugs her shoulders. "What did Mother know about domestic duties? Gothel had given her the bare necessities and taught her nothing but how to wait. The Bedouin women wouldn't help; they shunned her. So she sat in her tent, waiting. When hunger cramped her stomach, and no one brought her food, she followed a group of women to a grove of date palms. She watched one shinny up a tree and throw dates into the apron of another below. Then, the woman in the tree saw Mother, and she pointed to a tree that held more dates than any other did. Mother ran to the tree and stepped directly on the beehive at its base. The women laughed as the bees chased her all the way back to camp."

  Beauty sighs with empathy.

  "By the time she staggered into her tent, she was lumpier than Uele the giant's head and very sick. Ah," Scheherazade winks, "but this was also when Mother first suspected that her affection for Prince Fazel was mutual. During her recuperation, she'd wake to find gifts piled at the entrance of her tent: a beautifully sewn robe, a necklace of red coral beads, black glass elbow rings, copper ankle bracelets, a plate of pressed dates, a bowl of fresh camel's milk, a basin of wild honey with dabs of sour sheep butter floating on top. In truth, Fazel had fallen deeply and secretly in love with Mother. Omar and I were born nine months later."

  "Did the tribe know you were Fazel's children?"

  "Sure they did, but the events that transpired between our conception and our birth made that fact of little importance. Fazel's three older brothers were killed during raids. The elders pressured him to choose a cousin for marriage and get busy procreating Bedouin sons. He loved Mother, but his duty to kinsmen was second only to Allah. He married, and a few months later, he was made Chief. The night we were born, Fazel left his wife's tent to help us into the world. No one else would."

  "Does a woman need help?" Beauty asks, feeling stupid, hoping Scheherazade won't laugh at her.

  "Of course, you're right," Scheherazade replies, assuming Beauty's comment was an attempt at sarcasm rather than a question. "Remember though, Rapunzel had lived a life of seclusion. She had not seen anything born, not an animal, not a brother or sister. It's easier if someone helps, but she did birth Kurt and the other five by herself."
<
br />   "The other five?" Beauty's eyes pop.

  "Three girls and two boys were born after Omar and me." Scheherazade holds up her hand and counts on her fingers. "The twin girls were fathered by Saul, the Jew Among The Thorns, before he was hanged. Yunka, brother of The Three Black Princesses fathered one boy and one girl, before he was boiled in oil. Lewis the leper fathered the other boy before he was stoned to death. Mother hasn't told us who fathered baby Kurt."

  "Where are the other five children?"

  "The witch who lives in a candy house ate the twin girls. The other girl was grabbed by the Black Forest Demon right after she was born. One boy stepped on a poisonous snake, and the other was born blue, never drew a breath."

  The color drains from Beauty's face.

  "Fazel cut the cords. . . cleared our mouths . . . buried the placenta. . ."

  I'd never imagined my baby could die.

  "He ran to the nearest camel, kicked it in the hip to make it rise, massaged its right flank until it peed . . ."

  What if I can't get to Elora in time?

  ". . . collected it in a pail and baptized Omar into the sacred fellowship of the wilderness . . ."

  What if I'm alone in the forest when the baby comes?

  ". . . swathed him in plaster of dried camel dung and rags . . ."

  I should have stayed with the dwarfs!

  "I was put to Rapunzel's breast. Beauty, are you listening?"

  "Yes, I'm listening. What happened after you were born?" Beauty asks, diverting attention, masking her fear, and silently praying for Rapunzel's swift return.

  "I don't remember much about our time with the Bedouins, except that we weren't accepted any more than Rapunzel. The children taunted us, saying: Thou wilt come to nothing for thou art only half Bedouin. The blood did not mix well; you resemble your mother's kin. Twin, twin, kin of jinn. I think there's a loaf of Hutzel Brod in the hamper. Are you hungry too?"

  * * *

  Chapter Eight

  No Hearts And Flowers

  Croesus whimpers pitifully, staring into the crystal ball, his pupils the size of grapes, as Scheherazade and Beauty spread butter on thick slices of Hutzel Brod.

  "I have one nerve left, and you're getting on it," Elora warns. "Half an hour until midnight and the fast ends. If I hear one more whine, you'll be spending that thirty minutes in Beelzebub's corner of Hell with a note around your neck that says, Thanks, your pet rat was delicious."

  * * *

  Beauty takes a bite of the bread, then asks Scheherazade. "How did you come to live in Stromberg?"

  "We were five years old when Prince Fazel was struck with a lance during a raid. He was brought to camp, very near death. Mother dashed to his side."

  Tears spring to Beauty's eyes. She's visualizing her Beast lying still as death in the rose garden.

  "Don't get sentimental on me. Rapunzel can't bear to see or hear pain. She rushes to the aid of anybody, anywhere who is in distress. Fazel spat on her and shouted, Out of my sight, whore! Bring forth my wife. Before I meet Allah, let my final vision be the blessed woman who carries my only child within the holy temple of her body. Praise Allah!"

  Beauty hangs her head and a tear runs down her pert chin.

  "At the sound of Fazel's death rattle, the tribe fell to their knees weeping and beating their breasts. Mother rushed back to our tent, picked us up and fled, knowing they could murder us before the burial. Nobody followed. Why bother? They were sure we would die in the desert."

  Beauty shivers, and Scheherazade adds a shovel of coal to the fire.

  "It seemed like forever we walked over burning sand. Then, in the distance, we saw a rocky ridge that would provide shade, but our legs gave out and we could not travel a step further. The heat was unbearable. Mother sat down and said, We'll wait here for something to happen.”

  "What happened?" Beauty grabs a lock of hair and twirls it between her fingers.

  "A howling wind blasted out of nowhere carrying sulfurous sand clouds that knocked us off our feet. Sand blew under our clothes, into our noses, ears, and eyes. Gasping for air, we crawled for the ridge, unable to see where we were going, and, wham!" Scheherazade claps her hands together and Beauty jumps.

  "We ran into a big, fuzzy object, huddled against it, and buried our faces in the fur. The storm finally passed and a cackling voice called, Haul yourselves up here. I have food and water.

  We looked up and found we'd been clinging to a huge white camel. Upon its back was a travel litter, finely carved from acacia wood, and peering out from its drapery was an old woman. She called again, Come on; she's gentle as a lamb. Right then, the camel decided to stand. The old woman tumbled from the litter onto the sand and yelled, Bricklebrit!"

  "Did she wear a red scarf on her head?"

  "A red kaffiyah. She snatched the camel's tail and yanked until it knelt. Oh, and the delights that awaited us inside! We ate and drank until our tummies were round as yours. After we finished the meal, Rapunzel was so happy, she started singing."

  "Does she sing as beautifully as you?" Beauty asks.

  Scheherazade breaks into peals of laughter. "Five notes and the milk curdled. Ten notes and the camel howled in misery.”

  Scheherazade pushes a curl off her forehead, and her countenance becomes dark. “In the blessed silence that followed, we heard another voice, a pitiable, parched voice crying, Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair.

  “Mother screamed, Johann, and was out of the litter like a shot, running toward a strange man. His hands groped the air, his eyes were solid white, and his clothing hung in rags. Mother flung herself on his neck and wept. Then two miraculous things happened. As soon as her tears touched Johann's eyes, they became clear and he could see as well as ever. The air shimmered with rainbow lights and orbs of translucent colors soared upward from beneath the sand playing music like a thousand violins! When the balls disappeared, the music stopped, and the lights faded, the four of us stood at the entrance to Prince Johann's castle in Stromberg."

  "Wow," Beauty whispers and bites into the Hutzel Brod. "What happened next?"

  * * *

  Croesus rolls his eyes into the back of his head and his legs crumple. "Enough with the ham bone hysterics," Elora groans. "Only fifteen minutes to go, so I won't prolong your agony with the sight of Beauty eating hazelnut bread." Elora snaps her fingers and the crystal ball darkens.

  "I'll tell you the rest of Rapunzel's tale, and when I'm done . . . hmmm, Osetra caviar, Nicoises olives, and a bottle of Beaune Teuron '59 for starters."

  Croesus bounds onto Elora's lap and licks her face.

  "Hey-Haay! Get down this instant. Don't you dog me."

  Croesus jumps to the floor and strikes an RCA Victor dog pose.

  "Women can't stand being dogged," Elora says firmly. "Beauties fear it and your average Grimm woman won't tolerate it. Which brings us back to Kronus Castle after I spelled them out of the desert. Johann kissed the ground and cried: I thought I'd never see home again. He jumped up and said, Rapunzel, light of my life, you restored both my sight and my home. I'll love, honor, cherish and worship you until death parts us. Marry me now and we'll live happily ever after in my castle. Uh, who are these children?

  Croesus' ears fall and his eyebrows rise.

  "Didn't matter at first. Johann hustled Rapunzel to the altar. Omar and Scheherazade were treated royally: they wore royal duds, played with royal toys, and ate royal grub. Four years had passed since Rapunzel had done the wild thing, and she was . . . receptive. I'll go for understatement and say Johann was happy, clanked, but happy. Then his pecker drooped. Guess how the royal physician treated Johann's ailment?"

  Croesus pretends interest while he sneaks a peek at Elora's watch.

  "He applied leeches to Johann's legs and ordered Rapunzel out of the royal bed for thirty days. Yeah, right. Johann couldn't bear to have Rapunzel out of his sight, and she couldn't bear to sit bedside without handling him. Rapunzel bores easily. On the fifth day, she reached her lim
it and said to the twins, I'm bored, let's play. They rode the royal ponies, shot croquet, and swam in the royal fountain.

  "From his bed, Johann watched them cavort and with each day, he got more jacked. Whenever Rapunzel hugged, tickled, or cuddled Omar and Scheherazade, Johann's guts churned with jealousy. After ten days, he cooked up a scheme to get rid of the twins. He was rapturous, imagining how Rapunzel would cling to him in her sorrow, sob on his chest, and he would be her sole comfort. He paid his servant Adolf to take the twins deep into the Black Forest and make them disappear. Sound familiar? However, on his way to the forest, Adolf stopped in at The Bloated Boar Tavern.

  “Back at the palace, Johann played pocket pool under the covers while Rapunzel searched high and low for the twins. She hit the streets and gravitated toward the loudest music and most raucous laughter, which emanated from The Bloated Boar. Adolf was already half-crocked when Rapunzel came in, and she bought him an ale in appreciation for tending the twins. When his head hit the bar, Rapunzel, Omar, and Scheherazade returned to the castle and a ball-faced Johann."

  Croesus manages a feeble "Marf."

  "Yup, the beginning of the end. Not because Rapunzel got wind of his scheme, it was trouble of another sort. Rapunzel dug the street life, the sounds, the smells, the shops, the gifts men gave her. She started strolling Stromberg every day. As soon as Johann was strong enough, he followed her, wearing disguises, clinging to walls, hiding in shadows and scribbling notes like some cheap gumshoe. Then at night, Johann would whip out his notes: The flower vendor gave you a bouquet of violets today and the baker gave you a gooseberry pie. No money changed hands. What did you say to them?

  Thanks, Rapunzel replied.