Frightful Fairy Tales Page 6

  The next time the elves had a meeting and took her to the tree, she completely lost all vestiges of sanity. As the elves locked Ezmerelda in the tree, she began to hallucinate. She thought swarms of insects had infested the tree and ceaselessly crawled on her and stung her. She began to howl like a banshee. Her screams stopped abruptly when she heard a reply. A man’s voice called from somewhere near her feet. “Who is making that racket? Are you a spirit haunting this mine?”

  She looked for the source of the voice and saw a small tunnel al her feet. It was a hollow tree root. She called through the tunnel, “No, sir, I am unfortunately very much alive. The evil elves have imprisoned me inside this hollow tree! Please come let me out!”

  Silence was her only reply. Ezmerelda thought that perhaps, like the insects, the man was a hallucination as well. But she heard the voice again: “1 see you are speaking through this root,” it called back to her. “I unearthed it this morning while digging for diamonds. I am a miner. I will help you if I can. Where is this hollow tree?”

  “I don’t know,” she called back through the root. “They always put me in a cask.” Then she became more frantic. “I hear them coming now! Please help me!”

  “Before you go,” said the man in desperation, “what is your name? I am Lucian.”

  “Ezmerelda,” she answered. “Here they are! I must go!” Then the poor miner heard only silence.

  Lucian stood in the diamond mine holding his pickax in a daze. He was determined to save the lady whom he heard calling through the hollow root. Every night he dreamed of Ezmerelda. He saw her as a young woman in tatters, her beautiful eyes shadowed in grief, her long tresses falling like a dark waterfall down her back in glossy waves. Every day he went to the spot in the mine where he saw the hollow root and called for her--to no avail. He feared she had been injured or killed, and he would never hear from her again.

  Deeper and deeper he and the other miners dug into the mine in their search for diamonds. Once his pickax struck through a soft rock and made a hole through which light shone. He peered in and saw a kingdom that was inhabited by strange beings he knew must be the elves of which Ezmerelda had spoken. Perhaps this was the place she was imprisoned. As he watched, he saw several mortal servant girls, bound by the wrists in chains. They were clothed in exquisite maid uniforms, but their feet were bare. He stared endlessly but could see none of their faces. He couldn’t bear it. He felt insane. He covered the hole and turned back to his work, vowing to leave all these surreal experiences behind.

  Finally, one day after he had finished his work and was making his way out of the mine, he heard a lady crying. He ran to the spot where he had discovered the root and called to her.

  “Lucian!” she answered. “I’m so elated to hear your voice. Please save me! I am desperate!”

  “Dear Ezmerelda, can you whistle?” he asked her.

  "Yes, I can,” she responded eagerly.

  “Then repeat this signal: two long whistles, then a brief one. Do this loudly and I will know in which tree you are imprisoned.” He took an axe and went up from the mine into the woods. He moved carefully through the thick tangle of branches and fallen leaves, listening intently.

  Soon he heard the whistle, faint at first, but growing ever louder until he stood before a giant dead oak. The black branches clawed at the only small patch of gray sky that he could see. “Ezmerelda!” he called.

  “Lucian! I am here. Act quickly; there is no telling when they will return!”

  Lucian held the ax high and said, “Crouch low and I will cut it just above you.”

  At this he struck the tree with the ax, and a great stream of blood ran from where he hit. It bathed the earth in crimson, for it was an enchanted tree. He chopped it again and again, rivers of blood flowing from the tree and running over his boots, soaking into the ground. He heard Ezmerelda laughing inside, and with one last strong blow, the tree fell and she was revealed. Upon seeing her, Lucian thought she was more beautiful than he had ever imagined in his dreams, despite the fact she was covered in blood.

  He gave her his hand, and she stepped lithely from the tree. They ran toward his home, but just as they reached the edge of the forest, they heard a crowd of voices from inside the wood, screaming, “This is why it rained blood in the elf kingdom today! She must pay, severely pay!”

  This urged the miner and the maid to move even more swiftly than before. Eventually, they got to his house, where, after locking the doors and windows securely, they bathed and slept in each other’s arms.

  Ezmerelda awoke from her deep sleep to find herself alone in the meager cottage. At first she couldn’t remember where she was, but she gradually got her bearings and recalled the kind miner who saved her from the elves. That day she did not leave the house for fear they would see her and take her again. Instead, she busied herself by cleaning the cottage and tending the fire, anxiously waiting for the miner to return. That evening he returned with a ring.

  When he asked her to marry him, she readily accepted. The small wedding was held the following week.

  Ezmerelda was much happier than she had ever been. She loved her husband and her new home, though at night she still had grandiose nightmares of the elf kingdom and awakened in her humble home, thinking heavily of the treasures there. She tossed and turned in her bed, holding the hematite key that still hung from a string around her neck.

  She devised a plan one evening and presented it to her husband. She knew where the door to the elf kingdom was; she showed him the key to unlock it. If they could get in without being seen, she could retrieve her golden wish shoes, and they could have anything they wanted forever.

  But it was a great risk. If the elves saw them, they would definitely kill them. Lucian thought about it. He thought about the mines, looked around the broken-down shack he could barely afford, and decided to take the risk.

  Ezmerelda knew when the elves would have their annual meeting, during which time all the halls were practically empty except for servants.

  It was at this time that they decided to break in. The next meeting would occur in two days. After waiting anxiously, they went to the stone in the woods that served as the entrance to the elf kingdom.

  Reaching for the hematite key around her neck, stolen from the Duke so long ago, Ezmerelda touched it to the stone. The keyhole appeared and she turned the lock. The door was revealed, and golden light from a hundred candles shone from inside the stone and illuminated the dark woods around them.

  Cautiously, they entered the temporary doorway and ran down the hallway toward the Duke’s chamber, where Ezmerelda had once been enslaved. As they reached the room, she heard a clamor in the hall. “Did you see her too? It was the Duke’s scullery maid that escaped. Perhaps she has come back to steal from us!” Footsteps echoed in the hall, coming nearer to the room.

  “There!” she cried to Lucian in a loud whisper and jumped on the floorboard under which her shoes were hidden. “Help me pry up this board.”

  Lucian wrenched the board loose, and Ezmerelda thrust the shoes upon her feet just as the evil elves appeared in the doorway. She grabbed Lucian’s hand and exclaimed, “I wish to disappear to an island on the other side of the world!” The elves leapt upon her and grabbed her other hand only to find themselves standing in the empty place where she and Lucian had just been, holding nothing but her ring.

  When Ezmerelda and Lucian reappeared, they found themselves surrounded by crystalline, pale blue waterfalls, fruit-bearing trees, and flowers of all kinds. The warm ocean lapped the white sand and wove a tapestry of mist along the coastline. She noticed that her wedding ring was missing and immediately wished for another. A ring finer than any she could imagine appeared. Then she wished for nine more, one for every finger. They all appeared, each becoming more lavish than the last. Ezmerelda then wished for a grand and beautiful home.

  Lucian was ecstatic. He never again had to work in the drudgery of the mine. As they watched the sun slowly sink beneath the waves, Ez
merelda thought of only one more wish that would make their lives perfect. She wished for her father. In an instant the old man appeared before them, crippled and half blind. He stared at his surroundings in confusion. “Have I finally died and gone to Eden?” asked Felix Worthy. “I’m very surprised if I have, because l assuredly thought I was headed the other way. I see the ethereal vision of my good daughter Ezmerelda, so heaven is where I must be.”

  “No, father. You are alive!” cried Ezmerelda happily through her tears. “All of our strife has finally ended. I suffered inhuman tortures at the expense of your vice. I see that you also have gone through pain. I forgive you, because I know it was hard for you as well, and you are the only father I have. You will be forever content and safe now, as will we all.”

  At this, she ran to him and held him. That day was the finest of many fine days to come. From that day forward, no cloud of misery ever obscured the sunlight that shone upon the lives of Ezmerelda, her father, and her husband. From this, they learned the depth of loss and gain in grandeur one could endure by indulging in gambling.

  THE SALT MAIDEN

  Let’s turn back the clock to a time when clocks didn’t exist. The earth was an orb as it is today, but it had no water, and the creatures that now live in the ocean were clearly visible squirming around in the mud, flapping their long slimy tentacles pointlessly and in vain. High above all this mess shone the beautiful face of The Moon. As she danced in her orbit, she looked down with interest which turned to disgust and then pity at the pathetic loathsome beasts below. The Moon is made of moon dust and rock, but originally she was an egg made from smooth white salt that had not quite solidified. As she rotated, thin strands of moonlight wafted down upon the earth and entangled it like spider webs.

  Months passed and eventually the egg began to crack. It took time eternal as we perceive it, but to her it was but a few moments. From the crack slowly emerged a beautiful baby made entirely of salt. Her skin was white, smooth, and luminous and her hair lay flat and still against her head, for there was no breeze on the moon. In contrast, her eyes were deep, dark and black as the endless surrounding universe. Tiny glints of star light reflected in her eyes as her salt heart beat.

  The Moon adored her daughter and showered her with intricate diaphanous dresses made from thin sheets of pressed salt. She did this by gestating them inside her hollow shell then pushing them up through the surface where they grew like white upside down oversized flowers until plucked by The Salt Maiden.

  As The Salt Maiden grew, she grew more lovely and more bored. To break the tedium, she would peer down upon the Earth through her telescope, searching the landscape below and watching the creatures and the wildlife. As the wind blew, it formed deep yellow waves. The Salt Maiden longed to run through the grass. Her heart yearned to pick the fruit ripening in the twilight.

  One stultifying afternoon, she peered at the creatures in the mud pits. Her circle of vision ran up from the creatures in the mud to the land mass sporting an army of flora and fauna. Then she saw him. The Salt Maiden couldn’t believe her eyes. Seeing him increased her loneliness two thousand times. As she watched him moving through the underbrush, gazing up at the sky thoughtfully, his eyes seemed to meet the gaze of hers through the telescope and her salt heart broke. She longed to hold him and run her fingers through his dark brown hair. If only she could kiss his beautiful white neck and taste his little perfect teeth. She informed her mother that she would be leaving soon and began building a salt ladder so she could climb down to the center of the earth and be in the arms of the one she desired. As she built the ladder, she checked on the young man below, to see if he was intuitively preparing for her descent.

  One day he stood by the giant mud pit digging up clams with his toes. Another time he made a pile of everything flammable he could find and caused a gigantic fire she could almost see without the telescope. Finally, the day came that The Salt Maiden would make her escape. She bid her mother farewell and started down the ladder towards the earth. Her mother was very sad indeed, but kept a stoic face as she watched her only daughter descend. The Salt Maiden began to sing:

  Loneliness I leave behind me

  As well as my loving mother

  Will my life be good? I ponder

  For I have known no other.

  Will his arms be strong and stable?

  Will the Earth be kind to me?

  Is this all a mere: delusion?

  The future is unclear to see.

  She repeated the song as she twisted further into delirium until she reached the earth’s atmosphere. It was too much for her. Without lungs, she couldn’t breathe and began to suffocate. She tried to call to her mother for help but The Moon was too far up the ladder. Being too weak to climb back up, The Salt Maiden collapsed on the rungs where she eventually died. The Moon, upon seeing this, began to cry. She wept endlessly and bitterly in a seemingly never-ending torrent that washed over The Salt Maiden and the salt ladder.

  The Moon’s tears eventually reached Earth and rivers and streams began to form. Water rushed over the ladder and The Salt Maiden, dissolving them in the Moon’s tears which now filled every mud pit. The creatures began to gleefully swim and splash in their newfound habitat. The young man looked towards the heavens in surprise, as the ocean filled up before his eyes. As he saw the white moon reflected on the ocean’s surface, he was moved to tears for reasons unknown and realized his tears were as salty as the newly formed sea.

  THE TUMULTUOUS LIFE OF RAPUNZEL’S PARENTS

  Conception. Consumption. Conviction.

  Rapunzel’s father was a carpenter and her mother did everything else but carpentry. They lived on a small hill surrounded by lilacs in spring and snow in winter. Their home was modest but beautiful, built by the capable and talented hands of her father and decorated by the silken hands of her mother. Sometimes they would open the shutters and peer out of the window, careful to hide themselves behind the lace curtains as they watched their neighbor working in her garden full of lettuce.

  Their neighbor would always wear a deep green dress with a pattern of sparkling lettuce printed on it, gardening gloves, and a green wide brimmed hat with a veil to block out all traces of sunlight. She wore this apparel because the pattern of the lettuce on her dress would lure the growing plants to life. She couldn’t make it come up any other way…she was a witch!

  The couple would watch her and make little jokes about her crazy antics and the way she decorated her yard and home. Even though they had animosity towards the witch, their jokes never went so far as to say an evil thing about her. Whenever they tried, they bit their tongue, sometimes so hard it bled. Hanging on a silver nail in the witch’s house were scissors, put there to prevent evil things to be said about her behind her back. The scissors are a hex to clip the tongues of any malevolent neighbors. Rapunzel’s parents laughed and talked about how amazingly old the witch must have been.

  One evening while visiting their friends across town, the couple drank five bottles of homemade wine and decided to run through the mud as they hit each other with cattails growing by the side of the creek. They remember frolicking this way the night Rapunzel was conceived.

  Soon, the carpenter’s wife began to feel very sick and all she could think about was the witch’s lettuce. Rapunzel’s father tried to get her mother to eat but she wouldn’t. She would break down sobbing, then vomit, and plead for the witch’s lettuce.

  At night she would stay awake with her fists clenched and all her muscles strung like a wire. She stared at the ceiling as she tossed, trying to find a comfortable position. Keeping her husband awake, she constantly pleaded for him to get her the witch’s lettuce.

  After work one day, he entered his newly dark life of a messy house as his crazy pregnant wife stared listlessly out the window at the lettuce. Her once nubile body was now thin and gaunt save for her bloated abdomen. Her once shiny, long golden ringlets were now a mess of faded corn silk.

  Her eyes which were once brigh
t blue had turned lightless. It was too much for him to take. He disliked being reduced to stealing the witch’s lettuce but he decided that night to sneak into the garden for his ailing bride. The witch’s property was surrounded by a ninety foot tall wrought iron fence . Silver cupids danced their frozen minuet in exact patterns throughout the intricate swirls and iron leaves.

  Every so often a jewel would gleam at him from the pattern entwined in iron. The crescent moon looked like a discarded fingernail but was his only light source. The shadows the fence cast were long, black, ominous, and seemed to be ever-changing. Crickets chirped in the bushes all around him. Breezes tossed his hair ever so slightly and horses snorted sleepily in the

  pasture nearby. Behind the witch’s fence, everything was still and silent, seeming waiting with baited breath for his intrusion.

  The carpenter took his shovel and dug under the fence, praying all the while. The soil on the witch’s side of the fence was rich and black and made his internal organs feel like they were being smothered by a warm wet quilt. Despite this, he was able to run to the lettuce patch and throw as many as he could fit into the pillowcases he had brought. He then scurried under the fence like a rat and threw the dirt back into the hole he created. The witch’s soil he dug earlier was now dirt. Only the witch’s garden contained rich soil; he and everyone else had to make do with dirt.