(Mira:)
I finish reading the paper and I notice you writing.
“What are you working on, sweetie?” I ask.
“An idea for a novel,” you tell me. “Nothing good, just a
sort of political thriller, something to try to make money.”
“Nothing wrong with that, darling. People do worse things
than that for money.”
“I know.”
“Sometime if you want to, maybe you could make up a
bedtime story to tell me. No one ever did that for me when I was little. I used
to read things for myself until they made me put out the light: fairy tales
from a book my favorite aunt gave me one year for my birthday. Cinderella and
Snow White, Beauty and the Beast and Red Riding Hood, all the famous ones. It
would have been nicer if someone had read them to me.”
(Jason:)
I close my notebook and put my arm around you. “You
wouldn’t happen to be dropping a hint for me, darling, would you?” I ask.
You give me a guilty little smile. “I don’t know,
sweetie. Is that something you might like to do for me sometime?”
“I could give it a try, I guess. I don’t know if it would
be any good. I’m better at writing than I am at talking, you know. You’re the
only one I’d even think of trying it with.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll love it whatever it is.”
“Okay then. Let’s see, how should I start? Oh, right.”
Once upon a time there was a little girl named Rita who
lived with her evil parents at the edge of a forest called Midnight Woods.
Rita’s parents were stooges of the evil Sheriff of Nothingham, who liked to
keep children locked up in his dungeon and commit unspeakable acts out of
everyone’s sight. One day it was Rita’s turn to go there, and her parents
locked her out of their house so the Sheriff could find her and carry her away.
But Rita knew what they were planning, and she ran into the Midnight Woods to
escape.
The woods were scary, dark and deep, and Rita wandered alone
for a long time without knowing where she was, getting tireder and hungrier
with each step she took. After a long time, she just sat down where she was,
unable to take another step. Immediately a pack of wild dogs surrounded her and
started to fight among themselves over which one would get to take the first
bite from her lovely neck. But thinking quickly, Rita told them, “If you eat me
up, I’ll be gone and I won’t be able to do anything else for you. But if you
let me live and bring me food now and then, I’ll scratch your necks and your
ears and rub your bellies whenever you want. And I’ll sing you sad songs so you
can howl along.” The wild dogs thought about this a little while and decided it
would make sense to do what she suggested.
And so it was that Rita was able to survive in the depths of
Midnight Woods. And besides the food they brought her, the wild dogs gave her
knowledge of the forest and showed her the hidden pathways that crisscrossed
all over the place.
Thus it happened one day as she was walking along, she came
to a place where two paths crossed. And sitting at the crossroads was a boy her
own age, surrounded by wild dogs and wolves who were fighting over who would
get to eat him.
But Rita commanded the animals to leave him alone. “Let’s
hear what he has to say for himself before you rip out his neck,” she told
them. “If he has nothing good to offer, then bon appétit.”
Then she asked the boy, “What is your name, handsome stranger,
and why are you here in this desolate place?”
The boy replied, “Thank you, oh kind and beautiful lady, for
saving my life, I’m forever in your debt. My name is Elmo of Dismalia and I’m
an exile from that dreary slough of despond. How I came to be exiled and why
I’m here is a tale that will take some time to tell, but I think you’ll find
it’s worth your time to hear it.”
“Very well,” said Rita. “We’ll hear your story, but keep in
mind, if you value your neck, don’t try to feed us any bullshit.” Then she and
the animals sat down and waited for Elmo to start.
“I come from a land on the far side of Midnight Woods, a
place so drab and dull that even the pigeons fly over without stopping. And the
reason for this dullness is simple: the people there have forgotten how to
dream. They spend all day making drab things for themselves, the same things
day in and day out, never dreaming they might try to make something different.
And they spend all night snoring, the same snores each night as the last one.
“The children are taught from an early age to keep doing the
same pointless things as their parents, and never to ask any questions. But
from the time I was born, an invisible angel went with me wherever I went and
joined me in everything I did. And wherever I was, whatever I did, whatever I
heard, this angel would always whisper one word secretly in my ear. And the
word was: ‘Why?’
“When I was too young to know better, I would repeat this
word out loud to my parents and teachers and friends, whenever they told me what
I should be doing, whenever they told me to stop doing something else. ‘Why?’ I
would say, and they’d all get angry and yell at me. ‘Because it’s what we
always do!’ ‘Because it’s what we know how to do!’ ‘Because I say so! Now just
shut up and do it!’
“But even worse, at night when everyone else was snoring at
full blast, this angel would whisper more things in my ear: stories of places
I’d never seen, of people I’d never met. And I’d see them before me as real as
life, and I’d go everywhere and do everything just as the angel’s story said.
And somehow I knew this was what people call dreaming.
“I didn’t dare tell anyone about my dreams – I knew if I did
they’d cut off my head. But knowing about it was driving me mad, watching the
others go through their repetitious routines was driving me mad – everything
around me was driving me mad.
“Then one night I had a particular dream that I knew right
away was the answer to all my questions. In this dream I’m walking alone in the
woods, not knowing where I am or where I’m going. But I’m on a trail, and the
angel’s voice is telling me to keep going this way. And before long I come to a
huge clearing, and there in front of me is a gigantic palace, glowing like
sunlit gold, its highest towers touching the clouds, and a sound like a massive
choir singing mournfully echoing from the walls.
“I find the great gateway unguarded and I walk right in, and
the angel leads me to a great hall full of statues of gods and heroes, all
smiling as if they’re welcoming me.
“At the end of this majestic space I see two golden thrones
speckled with jewels sitting on a raised platform. But the thrones are empty,
and somehow I know this is bad: it means there’s some kind of curse on this
kingdom lost in the forest. And I ask, ‘Why are the king and queen not here?’
“My angel answers, ‘The young prince and princess have never
been crowned, they were carried away in the night by dark jealous powers who
surrounded this palace with the Midnight Woods so the rightful rulers could
never find their way here. And outside all is chaos now and endless night, and
so it will stay until someone with a pure heart finds the princess and prince
and helps guide them home.’
“Then in a flash I’m transported away from the palace and
out into the darkest and most trackless waste in all of the Midnight Woods –
deserted by my inquisitive angel and as lost as anyone can be. Since then I’ve
been searching for a way out, and it was only today, just a short time ago,
that I finally found a path – this path that led me to this crossroads where
you and I just met a moment ago.”
Rita and the animals considered this strange story for a
while. At last she told Elmo, “Your story is very strange and hard to believe,
but considering that we’re sitting in Midnight Woods and surrounded by talking
animals, I’m not going to dismiss it out of hand. What I’d really like to know
right now is what you think our meeting here might mean.”
At that Elmo smiled. “I believe with all my heart, lovely
Rita, that you are the princess whose coming the kingdom awaits with such
longing. Yes, I have guessed your name, for my angel has returned and stands
ready to guide us to the lost palace where you can now take your rightful
place.”
All of a sudden Rita and Elmo were swept up and carried away
as if by magic, and in an instant they found themselves in the grand throne
room. Then Elmo offered his elbow to Rita and conducted her to her queenly
throne. She took her seat and at once was adorned with a fine dress of gold and
silver threads and a golden crown studded with emeralds of the deepest green.
“But where is my prince to take his seat beside me and be
the long-sought king of this land?” asked Rita, looking forlorn.
At that moment a bright light flashed, and in an instant
Elmo found himself sitting on the other throne, regally dressed to match Rita
and bearing a crown of gold like hers. They reached out and joined their hands.
Then a marvelous power surrounded the palace and swirled
like a whirlwind around it, sweeping away the chaos and darkness and shadows.
In drab Dismalia everyone suddenly threw away their tools and started dancing
just because it was something they’d never done before. And in Nothingham, the
Sheriff and his helpers melted into puddles of piss and the dungeon doors
sprang open and all the hurt children came out into the light, where they were
comforted and loved as never before.
And the young king and queen were wed and together ruled
wisely and lovingly over the land from that day on. And they all lived happily
ever after.
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