Strange Happenings (3 page)

"I'm afraid that's what usually happens. It makes retransformation nearly impossible."

"But you
can
do it, can't you?"

"Oh sure, but the point is, you have to get the two heads side by side. If one doesn't want to, and that one is a human, it isn't easy."

"I can arrange it!" Tom cried.

"How?"

"Follow me."

Tom led the way back to his own house. They reached it by two in the morning. Finding the window through which Tom had got out still open, they crawled inside.

Maggie looked about. "Nice place you got here," she muttered.

"
Shh
," Tom whispered. He led the way to his room, and by standing up on his hind legs—Maggie helped—they were able to push the door open.

Charley, head upon a pillow, lay fast asleep on the bed.

"Now listen carefully," Tom said to Maggie, "I'll get on the pillow right next to him and put my head near his. Give me a minute. Then, you jump on and do what you normally do. Just make the transformation."

Maggie giggled. "Someone's going to be surprised."

"That's Charley's problem. He tricked me into this."

"That's what you all say," said Maggie.

Tom leaped onto the bed and padded to his own pillow. Once there he lay down, tucked his paws under his chest, and nestled his head right next to Charley's.

Within moments Maggie followed. "Ready?" she whispered.

"Ready," Tom replied.

"Here goes," Maggie warned.

Tom closed his eyes and waited for the tap on his forehead. When nothing happened he opened his eyes and found himself staring right into the face of a gray cat.

Puzzled, Tom called, "Maggie?"

"The name's Charley," the cat said.

"
Charley
?" Tom cried, and looked down at himself. He was just the way he had been moments before—a cat. In a panic he turned. There, asleep, was a person who looked exactly like he had looked. As for the second cat, it looked just like Maggie.

"Hey," Charley—now Maggie—growled, "what's going on? How come I'm a cat again?"

"I'm afraid ... Maggie did it," said Tom.

"Maggie? The wizard-cat?"

"I think so. She did the transformation on herself and you. She's become...
us.
"

 

One week later, Tom—who had spent all his time prowling the streets—suddenly stopped. He was in a park not far from a bench. Sitting on the bench was a girl. She was not doing anything in particular, just sitting. Now and again she swung a leg back and forth. Then she yawned, looked at her watch, and yawned again.

Tom watched her for about fifteen minutes. In all that time the girl continued to just sit there, a slight frown on her face. She looked bored.

Tom went forward and sat down in front of the girl.

"What's happening?" he said.

The girl looked down at him. After a moment she said, "Nothing."

"Doing anything?" asked Tom.

"Nothing
to
do," the girl replied.

"Bored?"

"Always."

Tom got up, stretched, and then rubbed himself against the girl's leg. "You sound like my kind of friend," he said.

I
N THE LAND OF
S
OLANDIA
, it was a queen, not a king, who ruled. Some years ago it was Queen Isabelle—
not
King Alfredo—who was the reigning monarch. Hardly a surprise then that Isabelle wished to give birth to a girl so that her daughter might become the next queen. That said, the queen felt strongly that any daughter of hers
must
be very beautiful because she believed only beautiful girls could be happy.

The truth is, Queen Isabelle thought about having a beautiful daughter
all
the time. If you asked—and even if you did not ask—the queen could—and would—tell you what this hoped-for daughter would look like. What's more, the queen could—and would—describe this daughter's beauty in great detail for hours at a time. She even knew her name: Babette. The queen chose the name because she wanted her daughter—when she became queen—to be known as—Babette the Beautiful.

Unfortunately, there was no child. And time was passing.

One day a lady-in-waiting told Queen Isabelle about an old woman who had recently arrived in the city. The woman's name was Esmeralda. Esmeralda—so the lady-in-waiting claimed—had powers to enable women to bear
exactly
the kind of child they desired.

When the queen expressed interest in this Esmeralda, the lady-in-waiting told the queen where the old woman lived.

Disguising herself—and telling no one where she was going—Queen Isabelle made her way to a dark alley in the oldest part of the old city. There she knocked on an ancient door. The door was opened by a little old woman with a twisted body. Her face was ugly, her hair sparse and gray. Her hands were gnarled, and ribboned with veins. Upon her frail shoulders lay a tattered blue-and-green shawl.

The queen, shocked by the woman's appearance, stepped back from the door. "I think I have made a mistake," she said, and turned to leave.

Before the queen could go three steps, the old woman cried: "Stay, Queen! I am Esmeralda, the only person who can help you to have the beautiful daughter you desire!"

The queen looked back at the woman. "How do you know who I am and what I wish?" she said.

"Because," said Esmeralda, "my powers are mirrors that reflect your desires."

"But how can you, who are so ugly," said the queen, "help me to have a beautiful daughter?"

Though she heard the insult, Esmeralda said only, "You must trust me."

Queen Isabelle laughed. "Do you really expect me to trust someone who is as hideous as you?"

Esmeralda's eyes gleamed with anger. "My queen, I have a large mirror which I will place between us. You can talk to me but only look upon yourself."

Though the queen was torn between wanting the daughter of her dreams and being revolted by Esmeralda's appearance, her desire proved stronger. "Very well," she said. "I shall allow you to help me." She stepped inside the hovel.

Esmeralda placed a large mirror in the center of her small jumbled room. This mirror was door-like—taller than it was wide. With a surface that fairly sparkled, it was framed by intricately carved wood—carvings of animals, birds, and flowers, crafted so well they seemed to be alive.

Esmeralda sat on one side of this mirror; Isabelle sat on the other, so that the queen gazed only at her own image. Though she had always thought herself beautiful, the mirror's image made her a picture of perfection. This pleased her greatly and she began to relax.

"Very well, my queen," Esmeralda called out from behind the mirror. "Tell me about this daughter you desire."

"My daughter Babette," began Isabelle, "must be the most beautiful girl in Solandia. She must be a child without so much as one blemish or irregularity."

"Why must she be so beautiful?"

"Why," said the queen, "the whole world knows that only the beautiful are happy."

"Ah then," said Esmeralda, "you wish her to be ... what is the word?"

"
Flawless,
" the queen said.

"Very well," said Esmeralda. "My powers can reflect that."

"Then use them," Queen Isabelle commanded.

"So be it!" cried Esmeralda. Then the old hag placed one hand on the top of the mirror, and the other hand on the bottom. She began to squeeze. Instead of shattering, the mirror collapsed into a glassy lump. Esmeralda compressed this lump until it became smaller and smaller. When it became perfectly round, and no bigger than the tip of her small finger, she turned it inside out with her thumbs until it became invisible. She then placed this invisible pill in Queen Isabelle's hands.

"Swallow that," said Esmeralda, "and you shall have a daughter who will appear flawless."

Queen Isabelle hesitated. But when she recalled that the invisible pill was made from the mirror—which had made
her
look so beautiful—she swallowed it down. She waited for something to happen. When nothing did, she became annoyed. "I suppose you now wish me to pay you for something I cannot see?"

"My queen," Esmeralda replied with a bow deep enough to hide the glint in her eye, "who am I to ask anything from such a beautiful and gracious queen? Let me be content in thinking that I've been able to make you happy by helping you have a ... flawless daughter."

Pleased by such a show of humility, Queen Isabelle flung a halfpenny at the woman's feet and hastened away.

But as the queen went on, she grew uneasy about this Esmeralda and what had transpired. Perhaps the ugly woman had been insincere in her parting words. Perhaps she would talk about the queen's secret visit. Perhaps she would mock her. Who knew what claims the woman might make?

By the time the queen had returned to her palace, she had decided it would be better to banish Esmeralda to the far reaches of the country—the Northern Forest. It was done immediately, but secretly. Not even King Alfredo or the Prime Minister knew about it.

 

It was not very much later that, with great joy, Queen Isabelle announced she was going to have a baby. The baby was a girl. At least, Queen Isabelle had no doubt the baby was a girl. The moment the child was born, the hardworking and distracted midwife automatically wrapped the baby up in a sweet-smelling blanket, then handed the precious bundle to her mother, the queen. Eagerly wishing to look upon the infant's perfections, the queen pulled aside the blankets and peeked at the baby's face. For a brief moment—a very,
very
brief moment—Queen Isabelle saw
nothing.
However, it was impossible for the queen to believe she had given birth to an
invisible
child. After all, the bundle had a lusty voice. It smelled like a baby. It wiggled and wriggled
just
like a baby. Certainly she had the appetite of a baby. In addition—there could be no denying it—the child had not a single noticeable blemish!

After that one brief frightening moment—when Queen Isabelle had seen
nothing
—the
next
second she was convinced she was looking at the most beautiful baby girl in the world, the very child she had long imagined and always wanted. Of course, she named the child Babette.

With Babette secure in her mother's arms, the midwife stepped outside the delivery room, where King Alfredo was waiting anxiously.

"How is my wife?" he asked.

"Everything went splendidly," said the midwife.

"Wonderful! And the child?"

"A perfect girl."

"Better than wonderful! May I see them?"

The midwife led King Alfredo to the queen's bedside. There Queen Isabelle said, "Here, husband of mine, is Babette, our new daughter, the future queen of Solandia. Isn't she every bit as beautiful as I desired?"

The king peeked inside the bundle. For just the very small part of a very small second, he saw...
nothing.

"Not so much as one blemish, has she?" said Queen Isabelle.

The king hesitated. "What," he said, "do you like most about her?"

"Exactly what I expected to like," returned the queen. "Her clear blue eyes and blond hair. Just like her mother's."

King Alfredo looked again, and this time he saw the beautiful daughter his wife had so often and vividly described. So he said, "Yes indeed, her eyes
are
quite splendid."

Then he added, "But I confess, it's her delicate nose, and noble forehead—which she gets from my side of the family—that
I
admire!"

"You are as perceptive as ever," said the queen.

Because the birth of Princess Babette was important news in the queendom of Solandia, the king went to the Prime Minister and told that wise gentleman how well everything had gone.

The Prime Minister asked, "Is the princess as perfect as her Queen Mother desired?"

"The girl is truly flawless," said King Alfredo. "Just what was wanted." In great detail he described Babette.

The Prime Minister went to the Lord High Information Officer and told
him
the happy news.

"We must send out a proclamation at once," said the Lord High Information Officer. "With," he added, "an appropriate portrait of the princess!"

The Prime Minister agreed.

"Of course," said the Lord High Information Officer, "to do so I must know what Princess Babette looks like."

The Prime Minister provided him with the king's description, adding some details from what he recalled as to the way Queen Isabelle had spoken of her much-desired child.

The Lord High Information Officer went to the Royal Court Artist and asked him to do a portrait of the new princess so every citizen in Solandia would know her likeness.

"Can you describe her to me?" said the Royal Court Artist.

"Of course!" said the Lord High Information Officer, and he gave a fine verbal portrait of Babette—-just as
he
had been told.

The Royal Court Artist—who was famous not just for his skill but even more for his ability to create art that satisfied his clients' high ideals—made the portrait. Because there was no one he wished to satisfy more than Queen Isabelle, he painted a stunning picture of the new princess.

When Queen Isabelle saw the portrait, she said, "That's her—exactly!"

Very soon thereafter, a royal proclamation—complete with a portrait of beautiful Princess Babette—was distributed to every person in Solandia. The citizens, seeing the sweet face of the new princess, their future queen, were very proud. How satisfying that Solandia had a princess without so much as one blemish.

Long live Solandia! Long live Babette the Beautiful!

Of course, when the people actually
saw
Princess Babette, they did experience a brief and puzzling moment of confusion because nothing
seemed
to be there. Nothing to worry about! All they had to do was glance at the proclamation portrait to tell them
exactly
what Babette looked like. Besides, the image they saw was indeed
perfect.

One other thing of importance happened: Shortly after Babette's birth, Queen Isabelle banished all mirrors from Solandia.