1 Dewitched (12 page)

“Jane,” she says at last, “I’ve never asked you about your mother.” 

“I don’t remember her,” I lie. The truth is I don’t want to remember her.

“Is she dead?” 

“Yes.” Another lie. Okay, it’s a half-lie. In my heart, my mother is dead. I don’t know what became of her. What’s more, I don’t care.

“I’m sorry, Jane.” 

Don’t be.
I tell Elz she needs to get some sleep. In fact, we both do.

“Sweet dreams, Jane.” 

“Sweet dreams, Elz.” How odd to say that after what’s happened tonight.

I’m lulled to sleep by Elz’s soft sobs and the rhythmic heaving of her body. In the middle of the night, I wake up screaming and drenched with sweat. I’ve just killed my mother in my dream.

CHAPTER 12

Lady Germaine is buried the next morning in a simple ceremony just outside The Enchanted Forest. Everyone at Faraway attends, staff and inmates alike. Winnie’s husband is also there. All activities, including therapy sessions, have been suspended.

Winnie and I flank Elz, holding her up by the arms for support. Her face is spotted, and her eyes are swollen-red from crying. She looks awful. Sasperilla stands by herself, twirling her curls. She looks bored.

 In his eulogy, Dr. Grimm calls Lady Germaine “a beautiful, kind woman who loved her daughters more than anything.” Maybe, he never met her.

 “Would anyone like to say something?” he asks at the conclusion of his tribute.

Elz bursts into tears once again. “Poor Cinderella lost her mother, and I was so mean to her. Do you think she can ever forgive me?” 

Sasperilla furrows her brows. “Puh-lease. She should be apologizing to
us
for screwing up
our
lives!”

Grimm smiles. Seriously, how can he be smiling at a time like this?

“Elzmerelda, by acknowledging your dysfunctional behavior and asking for forgiveness, it shows you’re on your way to a full recovery. You’ll be ready to leave Faraway soon.”

“I just want my mother back!” Elz wails.

“Get over it!” snaps Sasperilla. “Mother was a bitch, and you know it!”

 “How could you say that?” Elz croaks. “Everything she did, she did for us.”

Sasperilla breaks into jeering laughter. “You’re so pathetically naïve, Elzmerelda. Everything she did, she did for
herself!”
 

Elz presses her hands against her ears and sings “lalala” as loud as she can, attempting to drown out Sasperilla’s voice.

“I know you can hear me,” taunts Sasperilla. “Honestly, do you really think Mother wanted us to marry royalty so that
we
could live happily ever after?” 

Elz sings louder.

“Duh! She only wanted to keep herself out of the poorhouse.” 

Poor Elz is close to collapsing. I can’t hold back any longer. Someone’s got to protect Elz from her despicable sister.

 “You don’t really know what a self-centered, wicked mother is!” I lash out.

 “And you do, Miss Know-It-All?” sneers the skinny bitch. “Why don’t you tell us more about Mommy?”

I’m trapped by my own words. I don’t want to talk about my mother. Not now! Not ever!

But Grimm gloms on to the idea. “Yes, let’s talk about our mothers. Who would like to share?” His eyes jump from face to face before landing on mine.

A giant knot forms in my stomach. I’m
not
sharing.

To my relief, Hook steps forward. “I loved my mother.” His trembling voice surprises me. “She deserved a better life.”

“Why is that?” asks Grimm.

Hook’s eyes wander into space and grow watery. Can Mr. Macho actually be on the brink of tears? 

Shrink swoops in and looks straight at him. “You grew up in a noble house that seemed normal. But inside, it wasn’t, James; was it?”

Hook lowers his head. “My father drank.”

“A lot?”

Hook nods.

“And what did your father do when he drank?” she asks.

  Silence.

“Answer me, James.”

“He hit my mother,” he says at last, his lips quivering.

 “So, your father abused your mother. Like you do to others.” 

His voice rises with anger. “I don’t abuse anyone!”

Yes, you do, you swine!
I want to shout out.
Admit it!
The loving, compassionate look on Elz’s face makes me bite my tongue. Shrink jumps into the silence. 

“James, let me remind you. You’ve made countless people walk the plank. You kidnapped an innocent young Indian maiden named Tiger Lily and threatened her. You even tortured a helpless little fairy.” 

She must be referring to her twin Tinkerbell. Do I detect some feelings?

Hook fiddles nervously with his hook.

 “And let’s not forget the fact that you crashed your ship because you were drinking and almost killed your crew!” she adds.

 “Who told you that?” Hook barks.

“Your shipmate, Mr. Smee. You should thank him. He’s the one who you needed help and had you committed to Faraway.” 

 Hook’s face reddens with rage. “So that’s who landed me here. That traitor!” 

 “Hook, you’re in denial,” says Grimm, taking over. “Your deviant behavior is a natural progression. You learned it from your father.”

Like father like son. A horrible thought occurs to me. Like mother like daughter? Am I just an extension of my wicked mother? Nausea slithers through me as Grimm perseveres.

“What happened to your mother?” 

Hook descends into darkness. “She died when I was ten.” 

“How did she die?” 

A tear escapes his eye and rolls down his swarthy face. “She jumped into a river.” He swallows hard. “A crocodile attacked her.” 

That explains Hook’s morbid fear of crocodiles. It goes way beyond his missing hand. More tears spring from his eyes. I almost feel sorry for him.

Grimm pushes on. “How did you feel?” 

Hook’s eyes turn to steel. “I wanted to kill my father!”

Sasperilla suddenly interrupts. “This is all so fascinating, but can’t we wrap things up? It’s cutting into my grieving time.” 

 “Shut up, Sasperilla!” shouts Winnie, ready to pounce on her. 

Sasperilla crinkles her bandaged nose and winces.

John proudly puts an arm around his outspoken wife. The Badass Fairies give her a collective thumbs-up. Thanking her, Grimm plows ahead with Hook.

“Who do you see when you make people walk the plank?” 

Hook’s face contorts. “Who do you think, you idiot? My father! He destroyed my mother. The bastard deserved to die!”

I’m eager to find out if Hook’s father is still alive, but Grimm takes his questions in a different direction.

“So, why did you want to destroy Peter Pan?”

“Because he cut off my hand.” Hook bitterly flings his iron claw at Grimm. “What does Peter Pan have to do with my mother?”  

“Dig deeper, Hook. Why did you
really
want to kill Peter Pan?”

 Silence. Hook’s anger dissolves into despair.

“I wished I could be a boy like him. And have Wendy,” he says at last, his voice hoarse and tearful.

“Yes, Hook. By eliminating Peter Pan, you could have Wendy for yourself. To take care of you like a little boy. Admit it, Hook, you wanted Wendy to be your mother.” 

“It’s true,” he says, choking on his words. “I wanted her to be my mother.” 

“And when she rejected you, you tried to kill her.”

 “Stop it!” Hook breaks down in tears, his shoulders heaving. I feel his pain. We’re cut from the same cloth.

Elz dashes over to the broken pirate and hugs him. “Thank you for sharing. You wanted your mother back. Like me.” 

Hook bawls in Elz’s arms. Like a little boy.

Sasperilla’s veins pop with jealousy. “I’ve had it with all this nonsense!” She stomps off.

“Mama, mama!”

What’s a baby doing here? Wait a minute! I recognize that voice. It’s What’s-His-Name. He’s crawling on the ground like a one-year old! 

 “Me R-rumpelstiltskin,” he says in a baby-talk voice. 

Can it be? What’s-His-Name has remembered his name! Grimm and Shrink exchange a smile. We’re free to go.

Hook spends the rest of the day with Elz. Winnie spends it with her husband John, who must go back to their children in the evening. Rumpelstiltskin spends it telling every living and non-living thing alike his name. And I spend it hopelessly plotting my escape.

Thank goodness, I didn’t have to talk about
my
mother. It’s only a matter of time before I’ll be forced to expose everything. Every painful thing! I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to!

CHAPTER 13

 Sunday. A day of rest. There are no scheduled activities or therapy sessions. Thank goodness. After the past two days of breakouts, breakthroughs, and breakdowns, I’ve had enough. Finally, I can focus on my escape plan.

At breakfast, Fairweather reminds us that today is talent show day. “The show must go on!” she declares.

Dragonballs!

“We all feel it’ll be therapeutic. What everyone needs right now is a little fun!” says Fanta. Flossie adds that the three of them will be available to assist anyone who needs help with their act.

The only act that interests me is making myself disappear. I’ve been here almost a week and still haven’t come up with a single idea that works.

As I pop a boysenberry into my mouth, I have an unexpected breakthrough of my own.
Boysen. Poison.
Duh! I’ll find some poisonous berries and feed them to Shrink, Grimm, and those three blubbery fairies. Kind of like my old Snow White trick! Why didn’t I think of this before? With all the berries around this place, there’s got to be a few lethal ones; I mean, I only need five of them. Oh, yeah, and one for that armed guard Gulliver.

My eyes dart from bush to bush. How will I figure out which berries are poison? It’s not like I can go on a tasting spree. With the way my luck’s been going, the first one I sample will be poisonous, and I’ll be the one to go. I know. I can try them out on Sasperilla. The skinny bitch deserves to die. There’s just one big problem. Sasperilla won’t eat a thing!

 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.