Rapunzel Untangled (22 page)

Horror ran through Rapunzel. She looked up at the basket of six apples that sat on her countertop. With a rage born of realization she swept the basket of apples from her counter violently to the floor. Fane immediately reached out to touch her arm.

“Rapunzel? Are you okay?”

She looked at Fane but couldn’t speak past the revulsion choking her. She could only pick up the paper and thrust it at Fane. He read through it, his expression mirroring her own.

“Do you think this is you she’s talking about?” Fane asked. “It couldn’t be, right? I mean that would mean . . . that’s not possible. That would mean that she—”

Rapunzel spun away from him. She felt sick. It wasn’t bad enough that her entire life was a lie and that her mother had possibly killed her father but now maybe her mother wasn’t even her mother. Then . . . who was?

Fane came behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She turned and clung to him. She buried her face against his chest, squeezing her eyes shut, wanting to erase from her mind the words she just read. Fane led her to the couch and sat, pulling her next to him and holding her tightly. After some time, he spoke.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I have no idea what to do with this information. She’ll be home tomorrow. Should I show her what I found?”

“I wouldn’t just yet,” Fane said. “Let’s make sure that we have all of the information before we confront her.”

Rapunzel looked up at him. “We?” she echoed.

“Yes,” he said. “That is, if you want me to be here with you.”

Rapunzel laid her head against his chest again and nodded.

“It’s late. I better go,” Fane said reluctantly.

Rapunzel sighed. “I know.” She sat up and looked at him. “I’ll go through all the papers, kind of put them in order, and read them all.”

“How are you going to keep her from seeing them?”

She shrugged. “I’ll hide them under my mattress, I guess. She only comes into my room to brush my hair so it should be safe enough.” She looked at him. “Will you come back in a few days and help me decide what to do about all of this?”

“Of course,” he answered with no hesitation. “Try not to stress about it too much until then, okay?”

She nodded, knowing that was going to be a difficult task. But it lifted the burden somewhat from Rapunzel knowing that Fane would be there for her and would help her decide what the best course of action was.

Fane decided to brave the trellis rather than risk being caught. Rapunzel tried to talk him out of it, but he felt like it would be safe enough—with her help.

He held to the end of her hair as he climbed out and took the first tentative step on the trellis. It began to sag away from the wall and Rapunzel quickly pulled her hair tight, reeling him back in with a squeak. He smiled at her though she could see the panic and relief mingled on his face. Holding tightly to her hair, he slowly made his way down. Once he reached the end of her hair, the trellis seemed to be solidly connected. Before releasing her hair, he pulled it to his mouth and pressed his lips against it. Rapunzel could swear she felt the kiss up through the strands to her scalp. He released her hair, and she pulled it back into the tower.

 
^.*
*

R
apunzel was a baby. She lay in her crib batting at the mobile that swung above her head. A woman came into view but it was not her mother and yet this woman was more familiar than her mother, somehow. She had the same golden hair as Rapunzel and kind eyes. She reached down to pick up Rapunzel, but before she could reach her the crib melted away and Rapunzel sat in the black room surrounded by sixes.

There were six people in black hoods chanting, and Rapunzel was terrified. She didn’t know who these people were or what they wanted. She only knew that the feeling she got from them was cold and empty. She wanted to run but felt trapped by the circle drawn around her.

Suddenly, her mother was there, only instead of being comforted by her presence, Rapunzel’s fear spiked upward. As her mother stepped toward her, she said, “You are the key. Everything depends on you. My daughter depends on you.”

A man came forward and Rapunzel cringed in fear. He was tall and dark, his eyes black and lifeless. He too wore a black hooded cape. He lay his hands on her head and began chanting, the words foreign and strange. Rapunzel wanted to move away from him but was unable to.

Rapunzel’s hair began growing at an unearthly rate, surrounding her, binding her, choking her. She tried to escape but could not get free. She could no longer see the chanting people or her mother. She opened her mouth to scream but was stopped in her intention as her hair covered her mouth and pulled tightly.

Rapunzel woke with a scream. She lay on her bedroom floor, bound in her sheets. When she realized that she was safe, and not in the room of sixes, she began crying, relief flooding her. She lay that way for some time before disentangling herself and standing. She sat on the edge of her bed and glanced down at the mattress. Beneath the mattress lay all of the papers that she had spent hours reading.

Some of the papers were harmless, historical records of the Gothel family. It was the other papers, the ones written by her mother, that disturbed her. Or rather, not written by her
mother
but by the woman who had kidnapped her and now claimed to be her mother.

Rapunzel’s entire world had jerked to a standstill and she barely hung on. She felt as though the only thing she was capable of doing was screaming. But if she started, she might never stop.

She stood and went into her bathroom, removing her sweat-drenched pajamas and stepping into the shower. The hot water was almost painful against her fragile skin. She turned it cold, and let the chilly water wash over her frayed nerves, numbing them.

After carefully making her bed and making certain that there was no evidence of the papers that lay beneath, she went into her main living area, picked up the basket and the spilled apples and replaced them on the countertop. She poured herself a bowl of cereal but was only able to eat a few bites before her stomach rebelled. She poured the rest down the drain and washed the bowl. Then, deciding under her mattress might seem obvious, she went back and gathered all the papers. She took them up to her exercise room and stashed them beneath the treadmill. She then sat on her couch and waited.

When her door handle turned, her stomach tightened. She didn’t think she could pretend as though her entire life hadn’t been entirely changed less than twenty-four hours ago. Gothel stepped into the room and it was all Rapunzel could do not to sneer at the woman.

“Rapunzel, there you are,” Gothel said.
Where else would I be?
Rapunzel thought, sarcastically. She stood as Gothel came near. “How are you? Did everything go well while I was gone?”

“Yes,” Rapunzel answered shortly.

“Good. I always worry about you so when I have to go away.”

“Do you?” Rapunzel asked disbelievingly. “Tell me, where did you go?”

“Uh, I went away for a work meeting, Rapunzel. You know that.”

“What work?” Rapunzel asked. “What do you do?”

“Why I . . . What’s with all the questions, Rapunzel? I’m gone for six days and I return home to receive the third degree? Is that any way to treat your mother? You were fine when I spoke to you on the phone last night.”

Rapunzel laughed, scathingly. She strode away from her mother and stopped on the opposite side of her kitchen counter.

“What’s with you today? You’re acting very odd,” Gothel said.

“Compared to what?”

“Rapunzel! I am your mother and I will not tolerate this disrespect.”

Rapunzel hadn’t planned it, but somehow found her hand closing around an apple, which she threw with impressive force across the room. Gothel’s jaw dropped in shock.

“You are not my mother!”

“What?” Gothel’s voice was soft with disbelief.

“I know all about you. I know you killed your parents. I know you killed your husband and I know that I am
not
your daughter. You
kidnapped
me. How could you do that? What kind of person are you?”

As Rapunzel watched, something in Gothel’s face changed. A look of evil awareness replaced the shock. She moved slowly toward Rapunzel, and Rapunzel realized her mistake. She should have waited for Fane. She was out of her element here. She’d allowed her emotions to rule her actions. She backed away from Gothel’s approach until her back hit the edge of the counter.

“You think you know me, do you?” Gothel said, her voice practically oozing from her. “You don’t know anything, Rapunzel.”

Rapunzel reached behind her, her hand closing on the drawer handle. She pulled it open, rooting around inside while keeping her eyes firmly locked on the woman in front of her, the woman who she’d thought was her mother but was now a stranger. Her hands closed on an item, and a small smile crossed her lips. She pulled the pair of scissors from the drawer, pulling her braid around front and placing the blades against the silken strands.

“No!” Gothel froze, hands held upward as if she could stop Rapunzel’s actions. She then continued moving toward Rapunzel, speaking soothingly. “Rapunzel, you know the consequences of taking such an action. Calm down, sweetheart. Put the scissors down.”

Fury ran through Rapunzel. “Don’t call me sweetheart,” she said through gritted teeth. She brought the blades together, cutting a slice in one side of her thick rope of hair.

“No!” Gothel screamed again, rushing forward and tearing the scissors from Rapunzel’s hand. “You horrible, horrible, selfish girl,” she cried. She flung the scissors across the room, raising a hand high and bringing it down stingingly against Rapunzel’s cheek. Rapunzel was stunned by the action. She’d never been hit before. Gothel quickly bound her arms against her side with her own arms. Rapunzel struggled against a strength she hadn’t known her mother had.

“Stop it, Rapunzel! Stop it now!”

Rapunzel ignored the screeching of Gothel as she tried to get away. Something stung her shoulder just as she freed one arm. She stumbled, the room spinning and tilting wildly.

“Wha—” she said, finding it impossible to form a coherent thought as she fell onto her knees, one arm still held by Gothel. She tried to regain her footing but was unable as Gothel began dragging her. She saw the blurry vision of a syringe hanging from Gothel’s opposite hand.

Gothel dragged her out of her rooms, out the door, and down the stairs, not caring that Rapunzel’s spine dropped painfully from step to step. Blackness swirled at the edges of her vision. Gothel dragged her across floors and down more sets of stairs—some that Rapunzel and Fane hadn’t even found in their exploration. At least, she didn’t think so. She was having a hard time thinking clearly.

Finally they came to a dark, dank, cement room. The air was cold and damp. She dragged Rapunzel to the middle of the room and let her go. Rapunzel fell heavily to the floor.

“I swear, girl, if you’ve ruined everything with your stupidity, you’ll pay,” Gothel said, leaning down to thrust her face close to Rapunzel’s. She glanced down at her hand as if just remembering that she held the syringe. With disgust, she threw it to the side. She turned and strode from the room, closing the door behind her, leaving Rapunzel in the absolute darkness. She heard the sound of a key scraping in a lock.

She slowly pushed herself to her knees, wobbling. Crawling toward the thin line of light beneath the door, falling a few times on the way, she reached up and turned the knob. She knew it was futile, had heard the lock being turned. Still, the reality of it refusing to budge beneath her hand was too much. Rapunzel collapsed against the door as tears streamed silently down her face.

* * *

Time passed, though how much time Rapunzel was unsure of. Her eyes had adjusted a little so that she could see vague outlines of shapes in the room, but nothing clearly. She was thirsty. More thirsty than she’d ever been. She even considered licking the walls to try to get some kind of moisture in her mouth, but was afraid of what else might be on the walls that would end up in her mouth.

She wondered if Gothel would find the papers beneath her treadmill. If she did, Rapunzel might never find her real mother. If she could backtrack through the clues, she might be able to discover where she came from. She could prove that Gothel had done all of the horrible things she’d been accused of.

She fingered the slice in her braid that she’d made. The hair was stiff and prickly. In spite of the fact that she felt Gothel was probably crazy, she still worried about the prophecy. She’d been taught the prophecy her whole life. She’d never had reason to doubt it. Letting go of the belief now wasn’t easy even if intellectually she thought it was probably untrue.

The depth of despair surrounding Rapunzel felt insurmountable. The woman who was her
mother
, who had raised her, taught her to braid her hair, showed her how to cook, who was her only companion until Fane, was a lie. What did she have now? Nothing.

 
^.*
*

R
apunzel was cold. It hadn’t been bad at first, but the longer she sat in the dark without food or water, the colder she got. She wondered if Gothel would let her die this way. Didn’t that go against the prophecy?

She wished desperately for Fane and worried about him too. He’d snuck in before when her mother left, willing to take the risk just to see if she was okay. Knowing everything they now did, she had no doubt that he would try to get in once again for the same reason. Only this time Gothel hadn’t gone anywhere. Rapunzel feared what Gothel would do if she caught him.

She heard movement outside the door and tried to stand but was too weak. She pushed herself to a sitting position against the wall as the door opened. Gothel stood in the doorway, a tray of food in her hand. Rapunzel’s eyes dropped to the glass of water, unable to look away, never wanting something so much in her life.