Fairest of All (Whatever After #1) (7 page)

t
he next morning, before we set off, I ask Snow if Jonah and I can borrow some clothes.

“I don’t need anything,” Jonah says, looking at Snow’s dress with extreme panic.

“Um, yes, you do. We’ve been wearing the same pajamas for two days. We need to change.” We also need to shower, but the bathtubs here scare me. You have to bring your own water. Using the outhouse was terrifying enough.

Ten minutes later, I’m wearing a blue skirt, pink top, and a pair of sandals that belong to Snow. Snow also lent me a red ribbon that I wear in my hair like a headband. Jonah’s borrowed a pair of pants and a checkered shirt from Alan. Even though Alan’s the biggest of the dwarfs, the pants come down only to Jonah’s knees, and the shirt’s so tight the buttons are popping.

“I’m packing everyone stew sandwiches for lunch,” Snow calls out. “We had so much stew left over that I made sandwiches for everyone for the rest of the week. We have tons!”

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury: What is more disgusting? Stew sandwiches or smushed-banana sandwiches. It’s a close call, huh?

Jonah offers to carry the sandwiches in a leather satchel that he borrowed from Bob. It has two straps, so he’s wearing it like a backpack.

The dwarfs agreed with Snow’s plan and built a box for her. They have a spot they like at the top of a nearby hill, so they guess that’s where they would have put the box if Snow had actually been poisoned. Unfortunately, we don’t know for sure, so we have to make the best of it.

I’m not happy about making the best of it.

I would rather know exactly where we should be.

Once we carry the box up to the top of the mountain, the dwarfs wish us luck and go to work.

The plan is for Snow, Jonah, and me to wait all day and then leave at night before it gets too dark. It’s not like the prince is going to show up at night. I hope. Anyway, he wouldn’t be able to see Snow, even in the moonlight.

Snow climbs into the box. I plump her hair and then leave the box open. He needs to see her, right?

Snow pulls out a book. It’s called
Property Law 101
.

Hey! “Is that my parents’ book?”

She blushes. “Yeah. I borrowed it from the forest. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” If she marries the prince, she might be a queen one day. And queens should have a good education.

Crack.

“An animal!” Jonah cheers. “A dangerous animal!”

Growl.

My shoulders clench. It sounds like the animal from the other day! “What do we do?”

Growwwl.

“It’s coming from behind that tree!” Jonah exclaims, and before I can stop him, he charges toward it.

“No, Jonah!” I yell.

Growwwwwwwwwwl.

I make a mad dash toward my brother. I will save him! I will stop the evil beast from devouring my brother! I will do whatever it takes!

The growling beast pops out from behind a tree.

It’s a wild piglet.

“Growwwwwwwwwwl!”
the piglet cries.

“Hi,” Jonah says. “Want to play with us?”

The pig takes one look at us and scurries away.

“Boars are easily frightened,” Snow calls out.

“Can I go chase him?” Jonah pleads.

“No,” I snap.

“Please?”

“No.” I sit down by a nearby tree and motion for Jonah to do the same.

He stomps his feet, but does as he’s told.

We wait. And wait.

“When do you think the prince will get here?”

“No idea, Jonah.”

“In five minutes? Next week?”

He’s being SO annoying. “No idea, Jonah.”

I draw a tic-tac-toe board in the dirt with a stick and motion to Jonah to go first. He wins. Then I win. Then he wins.

“Let’s go exploring,” Jonah says five minutes later.

“Not now, Jonah. We’re waiting.”

“I’m bored of waiting,” he grumbles.

“I’m bored of you being annoying,” I grumble back. “I’m going to check on Snow.”

Her cheeks are bright red.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “You look hot.”

She rests the book on her stomach. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

“Snow, are you wearing sunscreen?”

Her face scrunches. “A screen for the sun?”

“I guess you don’t have ozone problems here.”

“Ozone?”

If only a modern-day dictionary had come back to fairy-tale land, too. Snow could study that.

“Let’s move the box to the shade,” I say. “We forgot water.”

“I know,” she says. “Sorry. I should have remembered. And I’m sorry for bothering you. I’m fine.”

“Snow! It’s not a bother. We don’t mind. We want you to be comfortable. Come on, get out.”

Snow climbs out and stretches. There’s no way it’s comfy in there. The three of us heave the box a few feet to the left so it’s under a tree, and she climbs back in.

“So what was it like being a princess?” I ask her.

“Oh, you know,” she says with a shrug.

“Not really. Did you go to lots of balls?”

“A few,” she says.

“Did you have a crown?”

“Yeah.”

“Lucky,” I say.

She sighs. “You’re the one who’s lucky.”

“Me? I never had a crown.”

“You have a brother.”

I snort. The girl who lives in a fairy tale is calling
me
lucky? Because of my brother? My oh-so-annoying brother?

I look over at Jonah, who’s building a tower with sticks. He has a very determined look on his face and his lips are doing that twisty thing.

He must feel me staring at him, because he looks up and gives me a big smile. An adorable smile.

Aw. He’s a cutie.

Sure, he can be annoying, but I’m glad he’s here with me. He makes Zamel — and every place, really — a little bit more fun. “Yeah,” I admit. “I guess I am lucky.”

She nods. “I wish I had a brother. Or a sister.”

“I wish I had a sister, too,” I say. I look at her from the corner of my eye. “Hey, Snow?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know how to make a French braid?”

She shakes her head.

Hmm. “Do you know how to do a handstand?”

She nods.

“Will you show me?”

She sits up. “And leave the box?”

“I don’t think you need to stay in there the whole time. We would hear a horse coming.”

She practically jumps onto the ground. “Let’s do it,” she says.

Snow teaches my brother and me how to do handstands. Jonah learns right away. It takes me a little longer.

We’re having so much fun that we barely notice when it starts to get dark.

“We should go home,” Snow says, her cheeks flushed with happiness and handstands.

So we do.

It’s the next day. My watch says it’s almost three
A
.
M
. in the real world. We have four real-life hours left. We have four Zamel days to get home.

We hike back up to the clearing. This time I carry a big canteen of water. Snow packs more gross stew sandwiches in Jonah’s borrowed bag.

As we reach the clearing, Snow points at the box. “Oh, look! A pillow! How nice.” She skips ahead.

“I should have brought a pillow,” I say. “Then I could have taken a nap. I barely got any sleep last night.”

“Really?” he asks innocently. “I slept amazing.”

“You certainly took up enough room.” It wasn’t just his fault I didn’t sleep. I can’t sleep when I’m worried. And I
am
worried. About finding a way home. About saving Snow’s story. About saving Snow’s life.

Wait a sec. I turn to Jonah. “Did you bring a pillow?”

He shakes his head.

“I didn’t bring a pillow,” I say. “If you didn’t bring a pillow, and I didn’t bring a pillow, then who brought a pillow?”

“One of the dwarfs?”

Or … “Evil Evelyn!” we yell at the same time.

“Don’t lie down!” I yell as we run toward Snow. “Poisoned pillow, poisoned pillow!”

Snow screams. Crumbs! It’s too late!

Snow pops up, the tips of her hair burnt off like she stood too close to a fire. “Ow, ow, ow!”

I run toward her, lift the canteen, and dump it on her head.

Her hair fizzles. “Ow, ow, ow,” she whimpers.

“Evil Evelyn is spying on us!” Jonah exclaims. “Creepy!”

“Are you okay?” I ask, shivering.

Snow nods.

“You’re still the fairest of them all,” I say.

“Sometimes I really wish I wasn’t,” she says with a sigh.

m
y stomach is a tangle of knots. We’ve been waiting for two days.

To help pass the time, we teach Snow how to play tag.

“Have you heard of freeze tag?” Jonah asks. “It’s really fun. My new school friends taught it to me.”

I glare at him. “Regular tag or nothing.”

We play regular tag. It’s not that much fun with only three people. But I’m sure freeze tag would be even less fun. Then we get bored. Snow returns to reading
Property Law 101
.

“Learning anything good?” I ask.

“I am,” she says. “I’m learning about wills.”

“What’s a will?” Jonah asks.

“It’s a legal document that tells people who gets a person’s possessions when she dies,” Snow says. She taps the cover. “According to this book, a wife automatically inherits all her husband’s belongings after he dies. But not if it says otherwise in his will. So I’m wondering: Did my dad have a will?”

“Wouldn’t you know if he did?” I ask.

“I guess,” she says with a sigh. “It was just an idea.”

We go back to playing with sticks. Then we get bored again.

“Abby, what if the prince doesn’t come today?” Jonah asks.

“He’s going to come soon,” I say. He has to.

My brother fidgets with a stick. “But what if it takes him months to come? What if it takes him years? Mom and Dad will be really mad. I don’t want to miss Hanukkah. And I definitely don’t want to miss my birthday. I’m getting a new scooter!”

I glance at my watch again. It’s after three at home. We don’t have months to wait. Even if fairy-tale months are only a couple of days in real time, we can’t let my parents think we’re missing. They’ll call the police! They’ll hang missing-kid posters around town with our pictures on them. They’ll be sick with worry. I roll a twig between my fingers. “I know we should wait for the story to unfold. I just wish we could hurry it along.”

“So why don’t we just bring Snow to him?” Jonah asks. “We’ll go to his kingdom and introduce them.”

I shake my head. “I think we should keep the story as close to the original as possible. That way we won’t mess anything else up. I think it’s better if he sees her in the box. The less changes from the real story, the better.”

“What if we bring the box to the palace?” Jonah asks. “We’ll put it outside his door. Then when he goes outside, he’ll trip over it and the story will go back to normal.”

I snort. “We can’t carry the box all the way to Camel.”

“Gamel,” Snow says.

“Whatever.” Oh! Oh! “I have an idea! We could send the prince an e-mail asking him to come here!”

Jonah laughs. “An e-mail?”

I blush. “A letter. I meant a letter. We send him a letter that he’s wanted somewhere else, and we get him to come this way. Then he rides by and sees Snow in the box, just like in the story.”

Snow bites her lower lip. “If he’s going toward my old house, he would have to ride by here. We could tell him that he’s wanted at the palace.”

“Perfect!” I squeal. “Then he meets you along the way and the rest is destiny!”

In fairy-tale land, mail is sent by mailmen on horseback. We write and send a letter to the prince, telling him to come to the Zamel palace pronto, and then we wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Bor-ring.

Two days later, my watch says it’s five o’clock back home. And I’m still sitting cross-legged on the forest ground, waiting.

Two more nights of Jonah’s feet in my face.

Two more nights of eating Snow’s gross porridge and stew.

Two more nights away from my mom and dad.

I like spending time with Snow, and I like hanging with the dwarfs at night, but I miss my parents. I miss my bed. I might even miss Smithville. I definitely miss my couch. All this sitting in the forest is making my butt sore. I don’t even want to discuss the ants trying to crawl up my legs.

I look over at my brother, who’s scowling at a group of rocks. Even he’s starting to get a little, well, antsy.

I know I have to try to fix Snow’s story. It’s the right thing to do. But we can’t wait too much longer. We have to figure out how to go home.

B-bam, b-bam, b-bam.
There’s a thundering in the distance.

My heart speeds up. “That must be him!”

“Finally!” Jonah says.

Snow sits up. “
Him
, him?”

“
Him
, him! Places, everyone!” I yell. “Places! Go, go, go!”

Snow is supposed to run to the box. Jonah and I are supposed to climb a tree. Yes, one of the skills I’ve mastered while twiddling our thumbs in the forest is tree climbing. Jonah knows how since it’s kind of like rock climbing, but easier. Snow wouldn’t try it. She’s afraid of heights. At least she’s not claustrophobic. That would be bad, considering she’s had to spend most of the past few days in a box.

Snow runs back to the box. I give Jonah a boost and he climbs to the top of the tree.

We hear the hooves of horses pounding in the distance.

I see a young man on a brown horse. He has blond hair, looks tall, and is really cute. He’s wearing a crown and a red cape. It must be the prince. He looks like a prince. Not that I’ve ever seen a prince in real life, but he looks pretty prince-y to me. “It’s him!” I cheer. “It’s really him! Our plan worked!”

He’s riding right toward the box. Now he’s about a mile away! Now half a mile! He’s a few yards away! He’s slowing down! He’s looking at the box! Any second now! Any second now, he’ll see Snow and fall in love with her! The story will continue the way it’s supposed to!

Wait. He’s not stopping. Why isn’t he stopping? He’s speeding up. He’s leaving. He’s galloping away. Huh?

Dust flies everywhere as he gallops right past us.

I hold on to a branch, and as carefully as I can, I jump out of the tree. “Stop!” I yell at him. “You’re supposed to stop!”

But he doesn’t hear me. What, is he listening to an iPod or something? No, they definitely don’t have iPods here. A Walkman, maybe?

I know it was him. It had to be. So what happened?

“That’s it?” Jonah asks, sliding down to the ground. “He’s gone?”

“It can’t be!” I cry. “He saw the box. He looked right at it. Why didn’t he stop?”

We hurry closer to the box. It’s empty.

“Hello?” I call. “Snow?”

No answer.

No Snow.

“Snow!” I yell louder. My heart slams against my chest. Where is she? Did Evil Evelyn do something to her? Oh, no. Poor Snow!

Squeak.

Huh? What’s that? Jonah pulls on my arm and points to a tree. A white sleeve peeps out from behind the trunk.

“Snow?”

Squeak.

“Snow, why are you hiding behind the tree?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets out another squeak.

“Snow, are you okay?” I approach her and put my arm around her shoulder. “What happened?”

Her cheeks are pink. “I hid.”

“I guessed that,” I say. “But why?”

“I don’t know!” she cries. “I got shy.”

“You got shy?
You got shy?!
” What am I going to do with this girl? Now what? The prince — as well as the opportunity — passed us right by. And now that the prince didn’t find Snow in the box, he’s not going to fall in love with her. Her story is going to be totally different! What about destiny?

I glare at my brother. “This is all your fault.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“It’s your fault she didn’t eat the apple!” I shout. “And why did you have to play in the basement in the middle of the night? Why couldn’t you just go to sleep like a normal kid?”

He kicks a rock with his shoe.

“And you —” I turn to Snow. “I’m doing everything I can to help you, and you’re messing everything up! Don’t you want your happy ending?”

She pales. “Maybe not. Not if it’s with some meanie.”

“Throwing a rock when he was two doesn’t make him a meanie!” I yell.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “It doesn’t make him nice.”

I stomp my foot on the ground. I am mad. So mad. Instead of going home to my family, I am sharing a bed with my brother and living in the middle of the forest so I can try to help Snow. And she doesn’t even want to be helped. If she doesn’t care about getting her happy ending, why should I? I shouldn’t. I should just go home. It’s almost morning! And what if time hasn’t slowed down at home? What if my watch is just broken? Broken as in malfunctioning, not as in stopped. What if Mom and Dad have been looking for us for days? What if they’re so worried they get
really
sick and have to go the hospital? “Forget it,” I say. “We’re not helping you anymore. We give up.”

Jonah’s mouth drops open. “We can’t give up!”

“Yes, we can,” I snap. “It’s time to go home.” Sorry, Snow. I tried, I failed, and I’m sorry.

“You’re right,” Snow says, nodding. “We should be focusing on getting you home. Forget about me. I don’t want to marry some rock-throwing meanie anyway. Even if he is a prince. I’m fine living with the dwarfs. We should go.”

“Go where?” Jonah asks.

She takes a deep breath. “To my stepmother’s.”