Just another lamebrain idea. I’ll never get out of here.
***
Over lunch, Elz is eager to discuss our plans for the talent show. She’s surprisingly chipper given all she’s been through. Hook, who’s seated between us, probably has something to do with it. I’m still not sure I trust him even after his emotional breakthrough yesterday. In fact, I’m surprised he’s not wrought with anger after what Shrink and Grimm put him through. Maybe Elz is the quick fix he needs.
Elz tells us she’s going to sing; Winnie’s going to juggle, and Rump, who hasn’t stopped saying, “R-rumpelstiltskin is my name,” is obviously doing some kind of jig. He’s already practicing in the corner. The clickity-click of his clogs grates on my nerves.
“What are you going to do?” Elz asks me.
“I have no clue.”
Hook eyes me lustfully. “Maybe you and I can do a little number together.”
I’ve changed my mind. I definitely don’t trust him.
Elz, who’s missed Hook’s come-on, offers to sing along. A trio.
“I can’t sing,” I say. Honestly, I have one of the worst singing voices in the world. My “lalas” scare off forest critters.
“I bet you have some other secret talent,” Elz insists.
“Her only talent is trying to look like me!” says Sasperilla, pushing her way into our conversation. “Have you noticed how little she eats?”
I eat more than I’ve ever eaten around this place, but it’s not worth arguing with the skinny bitch. But she’s reminded me that I do have a talent! I can look like other people. I’m a master of disguise! I fooled my very own stepdaughter in those hag get-ups. Every one of them was brilliant.
“I’m going to do an impersonation.”
“Of whom?” asks Elz, dying of curiosity.
“It’s going to be a surprise.”
I smile wickedly. I’ve just hatched the perfect escape plan.
***
The talent show is right after dinner. I have less than six hours to get it together. To transform myself into Fanta and walk straight out the gates of Faraway.
Wasting no time, I obtain some green fabric from Flossie and ask her to help me design a frock that’s like the one she and her sisters wear. She helps me make the pattern, then hands me a needle and thread.
“Good luck, dear,” she says. “I must help Fairweather and Fanta set up the banquet hall for the show.” She flies off.
How dare she leave me! I don’t know the first thing about sewing. Now, I’m sorry I blew off her workshop.
Fumbling with the needle, I start sewing the pieces together. My stitches zigzag all over the fabric, and beads of blood are everywhere from pricking my fingers so many times. But somehow, I manage to finish. I hold up my costume. After all is said and done, it’s surprisingly quite good. Time to try it on.
Something’s wrong. Very wrong. I can’t get the dress over my head. Crap! I’ve sewn the edges of the neckline together. I rip them apart and slip on the dress. No problem--except for the sleeve I’ve accidentally torn off. The dress is ruined! And there’s no more green fabric.
I’m totally screwed. How am I going to disguise myself as Fanta if I don’t have a costume? Don’t panic! Think! Think! I can’t blow my perfect plan.
And then, the obvious comes to me. I still have a map of Faraway, the one Fairweather gave me when I first got here. I’ll check out where the three fairies sleep, sneak into their room, and “borrow” one of Fanta’s outfits. Frightening simplicity! Why didn’t I think of this before? Let’s just hope they don’t keep their room locked.
The fairies’ chamber is located on the second floor of the castle. Luck, for once, is on my side. The door’s unlocked. I slip inside. The room is small but fastidious with their three beds lined up in a row. There are two doors--one must be the closet. Eenie, meenie, miney, moe.
Bingo! The first one I open is filled with identical fairy outfits in red, blue, and green. Fanta won’t notice she’s missing a thing. I help myself to one of her cheesy green frocks and a matching bonnet. Then I spot a pair of wings. Why not go all the way! Who knows, maybe they’ll enable me to fly. I hide everything under my long skirt and split.
It’s time to get really creative. I find Fairweather in the Arts and Crafts room and ask her for some flesh-colored putty and gold paint along with a brush and black crayon. The busybody’s curious to find out what I’m up to. I tell her she’s in for a surprise. Wait till she sees me disguised as her sister!
Armed with all my materials, I head outside. All is need is a thick stick. I find one instantly and paint it gold. Ta-dah. My magic wand is complete. Maybe it’s not as magical as Fanta’s, but it’ll get me out the front gate.
Now, it’s time for me to work my magic. I hurry back to my room, relieved that Elz is not there. I undress and slip Fanta’s gown over my head. The dress hangs loosely on my thin frame as I expected. No worries. I crumple up a couple of hand towels and stuff them into my brassiere. Ha! I’ve got boobs! Big, sagging ones that hang down to my waist just like Fanta’s. Moving right along, I take my pillow and stuff it into my bloomers. I now have a butt as big as the Badass Fairy’s. It actually might be a little bigger, but come on, who’s going to measure?
Okay. Now for the challenging part that can make or break my disguise. Carefully, I apply the putty to my cheeks and my chin and blend it in with my skin. If only I had a mirror! I run my fingers over the surface of my face and crack a smile. My new plump cheeks and extra chin are works of art! I add a little putty to the tip of my nose and mold it to look exactly like Fanta’s upturned snout. Finally, I take the crayon and soften my arched eyebrows. As much as I wish I had one, I don’t need a mirror to tell me I’ve done it again!
I put on the bonnet, making sure it covers my snippets of hair, slip on the wings, and grab my magic wand. It’s showtime! And what do you know! The wings are magic! I’m actually flying out the door.
***
I stealthily fly into the banquet hall. No one notices me in the back of the room, hovering near the ceiling. All the better to make my grand entrance.
Dinner is over, and Hook starts off the show. “Yo Ho, Yo Ho, a pirate’s wife for me,” he sings with bravura. I have to admit his rich baritone voice is fantastic. Everyone, except Sasperilla, applauds wildly. Beaming, Elzmerelda gives him a standing ovation.
Next up is Rumpelstiltskin. Hopping from leg to leg, he recites:
“Y-yesterday I was b-blank, but t-today I knew
That once u-upon a t-time I used to spin
S-straw into g-gold for a s-selected few,
And the name I am c-called is R-rumpelstiltskin.”
Okay. He’s not going to win any awards for being funny, but he’s got everyone laughing, including me. Grimm was right. Once Rumpelstiltskin remembered his name, his memory would start coming back to him. And the other good news, he’s stuttering less.
Winnie, the third to go, performs an amazing juggling act, using muffins she ends up tossing into the audience. More claps and cheers. Elzmerelda follows her with a love song in her sweet soprano voice. From my vantage point, it’s obvious she’s directing it at Hook. The swine blows her a kiss. I hope he’s not leading her on.
“Sasperilla, your next,” says Fairweather, who’s been emceeing the show.
“There’s no way I’m participating in this freak show!” The skinny bitch makes a face. Ha! Her one and only talent. Ignoring a loud boo from Hook, she goes right back to playing with her food.
Finally, it’s my turn.
“Has anyone seen Jane?” asks Fairweather.
On cue, I swoop down onto the buffet. The landing’s a little rough, but I make it. Fairweather’s eyes pop. “Fanta, is that you?”
“I’m over here!” shouts a voice in the audience. It’s the real Fanta.
Fairweather does a double take and is speechless. In fact, everyone’s gaping with shock. I’m not sure if it’s because I can fly or because they’re seeing
double.
I get right into it. In my best Fanta voice, I announce, “For our evening meditation…” I’m stopped by laughter in the audience “… I’d like everyone to close their eyes and chant to the moon with me.” Waving my wand, I chant:
“We have all that we need,
Full blessed children of space;
Light shines full on our face,
Giving Love, Illumination, Peace.”
I suspend my wand in mid-air and take a bow to signal my act is over. There’s no applause whatsoever. Only dead silence. Everyone in the room is in a trance. My little chant has worked like magic. To be honest, it was more fun putting people to sleep this way than with a poison apple. It’s time to knock Snow White off her pedestal. Mirror, mirror, I’m coming home!
I take one last look at the dozing group of inmates and staffers. An unexpected melancholy descends on me. I’m going to miss this motley crew of losers and monsters. Especially Elz and Winnie. Maybe one day, we’ll see each other again.
Enough. There’s no more time to reflect. I’ve got to stick to the plan and leave while they’re all still asleep. Tossing my “magic” wand, I leap into the air and take flight.
***
Flying is not as easy as it looks. Or as fun. Because the moon is a mere sliver, it’s hard to see anything in the dark of the night. I’m also not used to avoiding things like treetops, stars, and flying objects. I almost crash into an oncoming bat and narrowly miss catching my wings on the tip of a tree branch.
Finally, I get the flying thing down. And because I studied my map, I have some sense of where I’m going. Good. I can see the fortress wall in the distance. It’s just beyond The Enchanted Forest. All I have to do is get past that stupid armed giant at the gate, and I’ll be free!
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a blast of heat scorches my backside. A shooting star? A thunderous roar tells me this is not a cosmic phenomenon. I twist my neck and look behind me. My eyes make contact with a pair of angry, yellow, glow-in-the-dark ones. Two outstretched wings that must span fifty feet flap as madly as my heart. A monstrous, fire-breathing dragon is after me!
Unable to fly any faster, I zigzag across the night sky, hoping to lose the beast. Or at least tire it. No luck. The dragon chases me in hot pursuit. Panic sets in as the monster gains ground on me. It lets out another fierce roar. Something’s burning. Oh no! My wings have caught fire! I’m doomed.
My high-speed flying is reduced to a crawl. Then to a dead halt. Fanta’s magical wings have completely lost their powers. The dragon flies away, satisfied with its victory, as I tailspin toward the earth.
This was so not part of the plan. My life is over. I squeeze my eyes closed, not wanting to see the ugly end. A loud, ripping sound jolts them open. My crash-and-burn fall has been intercepted by a tree limb. Hanging by the sleeve of my dress, I’m dangling like an ornament on a Christmas tree. Fanta’s wings, now smoldering, are mere gossamers of what they once were.
How am I going to get down? A thought. Maybe if I shout out to that giant guard Gulliver, he’ll hear me. I bet he’ll be able to reach up and bring me down to safety. A strange splintering sound steals my attention. Crack! Crack! Snap! The tree branch is breaking off. Just when I thought I could smell freedom, I’m freefalling to Earth, clinging to a branch. For the second time tonight, I can kiss my life good-bye...
Or not. I land hard on a soft pile of compost. What good luck! And thank goodness for all my padding. I’m sore all over, but otherwise okay. I pick myself up, wipe off the yucky mulch, and yank off my tattered wings. They’re of no further use. I have no choice but to travel by foot.
When I take my first step, a sharp pain shoots up my right ankle. I wince. I must have sprained it. If this is nature’s way of stopping me, forget it. I break off a limb of the branch. Using it as crutch, I take off.
Despite my injury, I hobble through the dark forest with its monstrous trees and unknown sounds at astonishing speed. My childhood fears have come back to haunt me, so the quicker I can get out of here the better. My eyes dart left and right, watchful for thorny branches that will whip themselves around me, evil spirits who will jump out from nowhere and attack me, and that fire-breathing dragon. Who knows where it’s lurking. Fighting the pain in my foot, I pick up my pace.
At last, I reach the guardhouse. Gulliver waves to me. I hold my breath.
“Why good evening, Fanta. What brings you here?” he asks.
Either he’s dumber than he sounds or I’m a genius. Whatever it is, I’ve fooled him. He thinks I’m Fanta!
“Oh, I thought I’d take a little stroll.” I falter for an excuse. “You know, it gets so claustrophobic being inside that castle.”
The giant gawks at me. My heart hammers. Maybe he doesn’t understand the word “claustrophobic.” Worse, maybe he’s questioning my Fanta voice. It ultimately doesn’t matter. He unlocks the gate with a large key and lets me out. “Have a nice walk,” he says and then relocks the gate.
Yes! I’m out. Free at last! I want to jump for joy. But wait! The drawbridge is up! I can’t cross over to Lalaland! My body pulsates with anger and frustration. What am I going to do? Don’t panic. Think, Jane! Think!
My pulse rate slows down, and my emotions settle. I survey the dark, swampy moat. It’s about a half-mile wide. I have no choice. I know what I have to do. Jump into it and swim across to the other side. I’m a strong swimmer. I can do it! I’ve got to!
Wasting no time, I toss my makeshift crutch and dive into the black, stagnant water. It feels thick and warm like a blanket, but the stench is nauseating. A few minutes into my swim, a massive, rancid blob of flesh and fur assaults me. A monster! I frantically wrestle the muddy beast until I realize it’s only a dead boar. As dead as the boar whose heart The Huntsman stole. It floats away, and I swim on.
With each sludge-squeezing stroke, I grow more fatigued. Every muscle is cramping from the strain. Finally, I reach land. Heaving, I drag myself out of the muck and struggle to my feet. Dripping wet with scum, I stink. I’m exhausted. And I’m in agony. But I’m free. Really free! At last! Next stop: a real spa for a little beautification and then home to my castle. And my magic mirror.
“What are you doing here?”
The voice, a familiar one, startles me. I spin around and face a strapping, bearded man with unforgettable green eyes. The Huntsman! What’s he doing here?
There’s no way I’m letting him get in the way of my freedom this time with all I’ve been through. I make a run for it, hobbling as fast as I can. The Huntsman races after me. Every step is more painful than the one before, but pure willpower keeps me moving. The crunching sound of his heavy footsteps grows fainter. He must be losing steam. I run faster. Suddenly, I find myself tumbling to the ground; something--a rock?--has tripped me. As I scramble to get up, The Huntsman tackles me from behind. Kicking and screaming, I try desperately to free myself from his grip. I’m no match for his brutal strength.
Holding me down with the weight of his body, he pulls something out from his satchel.
My eyes widen. It’s his two-foot knife, and he’s pointing it my way!
“How would you like me to cut out your heart?” he breathes down my throat.
“Ha! You don’t have the courage.” I spit at him.
I’m wrong. Dead wrong. Without blinking an eye, I watch him lower the blade to my chest. Fear grips my insides. My life is over. This time for sure. I squeeze my eyes shut. An image of myself as a child reaching out to my mother flashes into my mind. They say you never know what you’ll see when you’re about to die.
One, two, three...I’m counting the seconds to my last breath. On the count of four, I’m yanked to a standing position.
The Huntsman throws me over his broad shoulders. “You belong at Faraway.”
CHAPTER 14
Feverishly, I twist and turn. Nightmare after nightmare assaults me, each one more frightening than the one before it. Dragons torch me. Monstrous trees strangle me. Sea serpents drown m
e. And giant knives cut me apart.
Periodically, I wake up, drenched with sweat. Sometimes it’s pitch-black. I’m terrified and scream. Other times it’s bright. Oh, how the light hurts my eyes. Objects and people float by me, but they’re all a blur. Not knowing where I am, I drift back into unconsciousness to escape the pain.
The horrific dreams won’t stop. One, in particular, keeps recurring. I’m a child again. An ugly witch holds me prisoner in a rat-infested cell. What am I doing here? I’ve been good. “Let me go! Please!” Howling with laughter, she sears me with her branding iron. Oh, the pain! But I don’t let her see me scream. I can’t! Biting my trembling lips, I reach deep into her pocket and wrap my fingers around the large metal key she keeps there. Do it! In one swift move, I stab the cold metal into the thick green vein that snakes up her neck. “You, bitch!” she shrieks as a fountain of blood spurts out of the puncture. Soaked with her blood, I quickly unlock the cell door. I run faster than I ever have, only to have the raving mad witch chase after me. My lungs burn as much as my seared skin. Finally, I can run no more. I’ve come to the end of the earth. And so has she. I have no choice but to jump off the edge into the gray sea miles below. Splash! I stroke furiously. I’m free! But, free to do what? The sea never ends. My tears mingle with the salt of the cruel sea as I wonder: Will I be swimming forever?
“I’m so tired!” I cry out, desperately hoping the sea will take pity on me and carry me back to land.
“Of course, my dear, you’re tired,” says a sweet voice.
The sea has heard my plea and now seems so nice!
I slowly pry open my eyes, one at a time. Yes, I’m on land! I can smell flowers. People are clamoring around me. My vision is cloudy. I can’t make them out.
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