Unfinished

Her fingers tapped the windowsill. She was watching, waiting. Waiting for her prince to come.

Adele paced around the tiny room. Her white gown and hair swished as she moved. Then she saw him outside.

            She squealed, and then remembered herself. With a slow grace, she walked to the window and opened it. He entered. Adele led him to the table. Her comportment was dignified, but she gave him coy smile as he sat down.

            “It’s wonderful to see you again, Henry,”

He smiled back at her.

Henry had dark, intelligent eyes. He was very careful about the way he dressed. His suits, always black, fit perfectly, and his shoes reflected the light. Adele loved the way he walked – like a dancer, tapping the floor as he went. Her hand reached out and she ran her fingers over his smooth, hard body.

            “Oh Henry,” she said, stroking the beetle, “how I’ve missed you,"

            They conversed for two hours – two blissful hours. She talked about literature; he talked about politics. Then suddenly she heard a scraping at the door.

            “She’s coming,” Adele hissed, “you have to go!”

He escaped out of the window just before the door opened.

            The witch entered with a bottle in her hand. Her hair was red and her nose looked like a mushroom. She squinted at Adele.

“Who were you talking to?”

“No one,” she said. 

            The witch didn’t know about her prince or the window. It was supposed to be impossible to open, but Adele had jimmied it two weeks ago.    

The witch grunted. She gave Adele a vial of magic potion. It was thick and tasted horrible, but Adele had to drink it every day. The witch said it was a special kind of medicine that would make Adele “feel better,” but it didn’t. After drinking it, Adele always felt dizzy and sleepy, and she couldn’t think very well. 

The witch watched Adele drink and smiled a nasty smile.

“That’s good,” she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow Kathleen,”

The witch never called her by her real name. She wanted Adele to forget she was a princess. That was why she gave her the forgetfulness potion every day, and that was why Adele vomited it out the window after the witch left.

            The hag closed the door.

Adele was alone again, alone to wait for her prince.

 

But he didn’t come. Not the next day, nor the day after. 

Adele grew scared. Perhaps he had fallen, or worse – he might have met someone else.

            She had to know. When he didn’t come the next day, Adele decided to go look for him. She pulled her shoulders out the window and scraped her hips through. It was a squeeze, but she managed it.

Adele was standing on a small ledge outside her cell. The ground was twenty stories beneath her bare feet. She couldn’t climb up or down, so she inched her way sideways. The rough brick hurt her toes.

She turned the corner and leaped onto the balcony of the building next door.

In front of her was an old man shuffling a deck of cards. He wore a grey bathrobe and white pajamas. They reminded Adele of the gown she wore.

“Good morning,” he said.

She smoothed her hair.

“Good morning. I’m looking for my prince,”

He looked at her.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t seen him,”

            She sighed.

“I didn’t know where else to look,”

“Where have you come from?” He asked.

She pointed.

            He peered at the building through his glasses.

“A witch locked me up in a tower,”

“How awful,” he said, “I know what it’s like to be locked up,”

“Are you a prisoner too?”

He chuckled.

“Yes, I suppose you could say that. They call it a “home,” but it’s nothing like one,”

Adele nodded, twisting her fingers. 

“If you’re looking for a prince, I suppose that makes you a princess,”

He was smiling at her. Adele wasn’t sure she liked that. She jutted out her chin.

“Yes. I am Princess Adele,”

            He gave a bow.

“I’ve never met a princess before,” he said, “It’s very nice to meet you,”

She said nothing.

He straightened and picked up his cards.

“Would you like to see some magic?”

Her eyes widened.

“Are you a wizard?” 

“A magician,” he corrected.

“A good one?”

“I’d like to think so,”

            The princess took a deep breath.

“O.K.” She said.

            With a flourish, he fanned a deck of cards.

“Take a card and memorize it. Then put it back into the deck. I won’t look,”

True to his word, the magician turned his white head away from her.

            Adele drew a card. She looked at it, giggled, and then slid it back.

The man tossed the cards in arcs and muttered various spells. As if by magic, the princess’s card appeared in his hand.

            Adele clapped her hands in delight.

“Do it again!”

The magician smiled and obliged.

            “My goodness!” Said Adele after he had produced her card five times.

“You must be a very powerful magician. I bet you could help me defeat the witch and find my prince,”

            He scratched his head.

“I’m not sure. This is your quest, so you’ll have to do it yourself. But I might be able to give you some advice. Tell me more about this witch of yours,”

TO BE CONTINUED...