by Liz Delesus
“Yes,” Rose replied.
She suddenly felt very sad for Snow White. A lifetime of searching for peace, and she never got it. Bianca felt tears stinging her eyes…she silently cried for her. She wondered if Snow White found the peace she was looking for when she passed away…or did the magic follow her into the afterlife, too?
Bianca wiped her tears away and turned her attention back to the book. Inside the book were portraits and photographs of everyone in the family. But other than a birthday, number of children and date of death there wasn’t much more information.
“Why isn’t there more about her in the book?”
“In case it should fall into the wrong hands. We wouldn’t want anyone else knowing all of our most intimate secrets or our weaknesses,” Rose explained.
Bianca turned to the page that had Grandmother Alice’s photograph. The woman looking back at her had a hard face, almost as though she had never smiled a day in her life. Bianca made it her mission to remember the woman staring back at her. There were no pictures of Alice in her house. Her dark brown hair was gathered into a lose bun. She had thin, stern lips. Bianca marveled over the fact that her beautiful, caring mother had come out of someone who seemed so completely joyless.
Alice Phillips. Born October 11th, 1940 in Newark, Delaware.
Married Victor Phillips on July 14th, 1970 in Wilmington, Delaware. She bore him a daughter they named Rose Red.
Died April 25th, 1994.
“I think there should be more in this book besides birthday, who was married to whom, how many children he or she had and when they died. How can you put someone’s life into a single page like that? It just seems unfair,” Bianca said as she closed the book.
“That’s why the journals are kept in the safe,” Rose said.
“Journals? Did Snow White keep a journal?”
“She sure did.” Rose smiled.
“And everyone else in the family?”
“Some were more diligent than others, but yeah we have everyone’s journal. One of these days you can sit and read them all. I’m still working my way through them.”
“Wow.” Bianca was eager to read Snow White’s journal. She was dying to know the true story…what really happened to her. Were there really seven dwarves? What did the prince look like? Was he really handsome? Was he kind? What happened to her after happily ever after?
“Is that really the apple that almost killed her? I always thought it was a fake.” Bianca pointed at the red apple on display.
“Trust me…it’s real. Don’t worry though…lots of people think it’s fake.”
“But…how has it stayed intact for so long?” She stared at the bright red apple with a mixture of fear and awe.
“Magic. It’s a very good stasis spell.”
“Who cast it?”
“Snow White cast the spell the first time around. She wanted to keep it in order to remember how close she had been to death. She wanted to remind others that life was fragile. Of course, the spell wears off once you pass away, so the task of casting a new stasis spell falls on the daughter or granddaughter. The next in line to inherit this history, the museum, and all the trouble that follows along with it,” Rose said. The last bit she added with spite.
Bianca nodded, understanding the importance of the items in this room. This was her heritage and her inheritance. She stood up and took a closer look at the items on display in the Snow White Room.
In another display case, Bianca could see the poisoned comb. It was made out of fourteen carat gold. It was adorned with oval-shaped amethysts and emeralds. Each sharp tooth on the comb had been soaked with poison. It was the comb that the evil queen had used to try to kill Snow White.
How can something so beautiful be so deadly? Bianca wondered.
There was another glass case that had a small tree made of bronze wires. The metal tree was covered with ribbons. Their color had faded many, many years ago. They no longer looked vibrant and eager to be used. The ribbons hung limply on the bronze branches as though ashamed of the way they had been used.
Rose and Bianca walked to a different glass case. In it were seven little bowls, cups and eating utensils. Bianca was looking at everything with new eyes. These things before her were no longer just tiny and cute and possibly made in China. They were proof that there was true magic in the world.
“How much of the story is true?” Bianca asked.
“Almost everything except the ending,” Rose replied.
“The prince didn’t wake her up with a kiss?”
“There was a prince, but he woke her up with a spell, not a kiss. Although…I’m sure there was some kissing afterward.”
“The prince was a wizard?” Bianca giggled as she imagined the prince wearing a wizard’s hat.
Rose rolled her eyes. “No, but he found another very powerful sorcerer who could wake up Snow White and undo the evil queen’s magic. The kissing came afterwards.”
“Did they know each other?”
“No. The prince heard about her because of the dwarves. The seven brothers put her in a glass coffin because they weren’t convinced that she was actually dead. They took turns travelling across the country, searching for someone who could break the spell. Six of them stood guard while one searched. It was the seventh brother who found the prince who would eventually wake up Snow White from her slumber.”
“What happened once Snow White woke up?”
“Well…she was angry, to say the least. Mostly at herself for eating the apple. She felt very foolish. She, of course, went after Queen Mirabel and defeated her. To complete the humiliation, she forced her to wear hot iron shoes to walk herself to the executioner. Pretty gruesome, don’t you think? Forcing someone to drag their burned and blistered feet to meet their death?”
“But if she was powerful enough to defeat her, why didn’t she do it the first time around? Why did she run away at all?”
“Snow White was a little girl when she ran away. She was only twelve or thirteen years old when her emerging beauty caused the queen to go mad with jealousy. She lived with the dwarves for several years in hiding, practicing her magic and growing stronger.”
“Hang on…if Snow White defeated Mirabel, then who are we fighting now? Who have we been fighting all these years?”
“Ah. Good question. What Snow White didn’t know was that the queen had an apprentice named Tara who swore to avenge Queen Mirabel.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“Yeah, and ever since then, we’ve been fighting each other. Daughters of Snow White fighting against Tara’s daughters. Ruining each other’s lives.” Rose then sighed and added, “Such a waste.”
Bianca was a little depressed after hearing the true story. It wasn’t at all what she had expected, but then what seventeen-year-old expects to learn that fairy tales are real? Or that she was related to the most famous brunette in the world?
“Come on, I’ll show you something else. I think you’ll like this.”
Bianca nodded and followed her mother until they stopped in front of a seven-foot long lock of Rapunzel’s hair. It was the color of golden wheat, incredibly silky and thick. She knew this because her mother had let her touch it once when she’d been ten years old. When she was younger, she would take the hair out of the glass case, without her mother’s permission, and play with it.
“Rapunzel isn’t just some girl with really, really long hair,” Rose said.
“Who was she really? Was there really a witch involved?”
“Oh, yes, everything in the story of Rapunzel is one hundred percent true. The spell on Rapunzel’s hair never died after the witch cut off her hair.”
“Really?”
Rose unlocked the glass case and pulled out the long blond braid.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down your hair
So that I may climb
The golden stair.”
Rose chanted the spell and then threw the hair across the floor, and before a single lock of hair t
ouched the black and white marble floor, it grew four times in length.
“What the…?” Bianca’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Pretty cool, huh? I’ve climbed all the way up to the roof with this thing. Trust me, nothing can cut it. Not scissors, not a knife, and it won’t burn. It’s basically indestructible.”
“But how did the witch cut off Rapunzel’s hair if it’s supposed to be indestructible?”
“Magic, obviously.”
Rose chanted another spell. Bianca was lost in thought and didn’t pay any attention to what her mother was saying or doing. By the time she snapped out of it, Rose had put the hair back inside the glass case.
“What else is there?”
“Follow me.” Rose had that twinkle in her eyes that let Bianca know she was in for the night of her life.
Bianca followed Rose up to the attic.
“Why are we up here?” Bianca asked as Rose closed the door behind them. A tiny moth flew around Bianca’s hair. She gently swatted it away as she tried to find a place to sit in the tiny and cramped attic.
“It’s not wise to put everything we own out on display. Some things really should be kept secret,” Rose said.
“Oh.”
Rose opened a huge cedar trunk and pulled out several items. Among one of the items was a small jar filled with pumpkin seeds.
“Guess,” Rose said, holding the jar in front of Bianca for closer inspection.
Bianca took the jar in her hands and peered into it. “Umm…really old pumpkin seeds?”
“Please be a little bit more imaginative.”
Then it dawned on Bianca what the seeds were. She gasped and said, “Holy crap! Are these from Cinderella’s pumpkin? The one that the fairy godmother turned into a coach?”
“Bingo,” Rose replied with a wink.
“What do they do?”
“They turn into a coach when you put them on the ground. All you have to do is add water.”
“That is so cool.” Bianca dove into the open trunk and rummaged through it. “What else is in here?”
Bianca felt something so soft it made her gasp in surprise. What’s this? she wondered as she pulled out the item in question. It was blood red and made out of a rich velvet cloth.
“Is this what I think it is?” Bianca whispered.
Bianca studied the fabric and then she realized that what she held in her hands was indeed Red Riding Hood’s cape.
“Why isn’t this on display?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I think there’s a reason why it’s been hiding in this trunk all these years. I’ve left the museum pretty much intact. Not much has changed since my mother passed away.”
“Does it do anything? I mean, besides look really awesome?” Bianca asked as she tried on the famous red cape. She loved how it felt over her shoulders. Soft, but heavy, almost like armor. She understood why Red Riding Hood felt safe in the middle of the dark and dangerous forest. Why she felt brave enough to fight a wolf. Why she wore this cape everywhere she went.
“If I’m not mistaken—” Rose’s words brought Bianca back to the present “—I think it shows you which path to take. The safest and quickest way to your destination.”
“Awesome,” Bianca whispered as she took off the cape and carefully folded it and put it back inside the trunk. There were other things that caught her eye. Among the items in the trunk were a coat made of different types of fur, three dresses, and the golden ring.
“This coat smells weird.” Bianca wrinkled her nose and sniffed the coat.
“Yeah, it still smells a little like onions and soot. Nothing I can do about it though.” Rose shrugged.
Bianca pulled out a gold dress. It looked as though someone had beaten sheets of gold into a fabric so soft it made silk feel like bark from a tree. The dress shimmered and sparkled so much it would’ve put the sun to shame.
Bianca caressed the dress with her fingertips. She couldn’t believe the story was true, yet…here was the proof. She pulled another dress out and this one was made entirely out of silver. It was just as soft as the golden dress, if such a thing were even possible. It was as bright as the full moon on the midnight sky. The third and final dress was made out of dark blue velvet, and upon closer inspection Bianca could see tiny diamonds stitched into the velvet fabric.
“This is beautiful.”
“I think those all belonged to Allerleirauh,” Rose explained.
“Who?”
Rose smiled and repeated the name slowly. “Allerleirauh, it means All-Kinds-of-Fur or Thousand-furs. The story is a little similar to Cinderella except that Allerleirauh’s father tried to marry his daughter, and there was no fairy godmother to help her out of that sticky situation…also no glass slipper. She was a clever girl and used her own wits to save herself. I like her story.”
“Interesting,” Bianca muttered as she found another item that tied the three dresses and the fur coat together. It was a thick gold ring. Bianca studied it and found that there was something engraved inside the band.
“I do,” Bianca read aloud.
“Hmm?”
“It says, ‘I do’ in this ring,” Bianca explained as she handed the ring to her mother so she could see.
Rose smiled as she looked at the engraved words.
“So?”
“So what?”
“So…what’s the story behind this ring?” Bianca asked, eagerly waiting for her mother to answer her question.
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“Come on, Mom. You can tell me.”
“I’m not kidding. I don’t know why it says ‘I do’ in this ring.”
“What a rip off,” Bianca muttered.
Rose chuckled and told Bianca there was no way for one person to know every story ever written in the world. Bianca was still disappointed that her mother didn’t know about the ring.
“What’s this?” Bianca pulled out a maroon colored brick out of the trunk.
“Ooooh.” Rose’s eyes widened with surprise. “Follow me.”
Rose grabbed the brick with one hand and with the other, she took Bianca’s hand. Rose pulled Bianca up to her feet before she could utter a word in protest. They walked out of the museum and went to the backyard. Bianca looked up at the sky; it was starting to get dark. She could already see some stars beginning to peep through. It was one of those rare, cool summer nights.
“Okay, you might want to take a few steps back,” Rose warned.
Bianca frowned, but she knew better than to ask too many questions and followed her mother’s instructions.
“Not by the hair of my chiny, chin, chin,” Rose chanted the spell. And right before their eyes the brick turned into a small brick house.
“What the what?” Bianca walked around the small house. “What is…I mean…seriously? A brick house?” she stammered.
“Not just any brick house. This was the house of the third little pig.”
“Awesome.” It was very simple house with one window and one door. “Can I go inside?”
“Yeah, just a heads-up though, only the person who cast the spell can open the door. No one else can come inside unless you allow it.”
“Not even if you huff and puff?” Bianca joked.
“Not even if you use a machine gun. Trust me, my dad tried it once. Nothing will go in.”
“That’s so cool.”
Rose opened the door and together mother and daughter stepped inside the small brick house. There was a tiny bed, a rocking chair next to the fireplace, and a small stove. Everything a person could need. Bianca was amazed by its simplicity.
“Um, where’s the bathroom?” she asked when she noticed the lack of a toilet.
“Back in the day, they did their business outside or in a latrine if they were lucky,” Rose explained.
“Ew,” Bianca said. “How come there’s only one bed?”
“The brick thinks I’m alone. You have to hold hands with the person or people who are with you.”<
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“The brick thinks?”
“You’d be surprised what else it can do.” Rose chuckled.
“How do you make it go back to being a brick?”
“Watch and learn.”
Rose plucked a single strand of red hair from her head and tied it around the doorknob. In the blink of an eye, the small brick house reverted back to its original form.
Bianca’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Well…I don’t have hairs on my chin, thank God…so this is the best I can do and it works which is all that matters. Anyway, I think this concludes Part One of the museum tour.”
“Aw, man,” Bianca whined.
“Don’t worry, we can go over some more things tomorrow,” Rose promised.
“Okay.”
Rose checked the time on her watch and gasped. “Holy mackerel, it’s getting late. Come on, let’s go home.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s a quarter after seven. Hungry?”
“Starving,” Bianca admitted.
“Come on. We’ll get tacos on our way home.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Bianca was halfway done eating her chicken burrito when she said, “You know…I’ve been thinking. I can understand where the Snow White stuff comes from, but…how do you explain all the other items in the museum?”
Rose chewed her food and then swallowed before answering Bianca’s question.
“When the museum opened its doors in 1929, all we had were the items you see in the Snow White Room and a few of the things in the Wicked Wing. Little by little, people sold or donated items to the museum. A lot of people thought the items were cursed so they were happy to get rid of them. Lucky for us, Great Grandpa Francis was very good at calming the items down.”
“Calming them down?”
“Well, you can’t disenchant them because then they wouldn’t be magical. All he did was put the more dangerous items in a magical form of sleep. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Anyway, Francis opened the museum. I’m sure you skimmed through his picture in the book I showed you this evening. But I have a box full of old photos; you can also see what the museum looked like when it opened its doors.”
“I don’t understand. Why not keep all of this secret? Why put these things out on display at all?” Bianca asked.
