Cinderella Stays Late

by Joan Holub

  “What happens if we’re late returning things?” asked Cinda.

  “Late?” Ms. Goose raised her brows until they disappeared under her frilly cap. “You must never, ever be late.” Then she lifted off, calling back to Red, “Explain the rest of the rules to your friend, will you? If you girls need me, I’ll be filed under L.”

  “For Librarian?” asked Cinda.

  “Of course!” said Ms. Goose. “And for Literature, Lore, and Learning, too! Not to mention Lollipops!”

  Waving to the girls, the Grimmstone librarian whooshed away on her enormous goose.

  “Which do you like better?” Red asked Cinda a few minutes later. They’d found their way to the S section of the library, and she was pointing to two different pairs of red sequined slippers. One pair had buckles and the other didn’t, but otherwise they looked exactly the same.

  “Well —” said Cinda. But before she could say that both pairs looked nice, Red made up her mind.

  “I think I’ll choose these,” she said, picking up the pair with the buckles.

  “Perfect,” said Cinda.

  “What about these?” asked another voice. The two girls turned to see Snow walking down the aisle toward them. She was holding a pair of sparkly blue slippers with perky little bows on them. “For me, I mean.”

  “They’re cute!” said Red. Cinda nodded in agreement.

  “Let’s choose some for you now,” Snow told Cinda.

  “Shouldn’t we pick out our gowns first?” Cinda asked.

  “Slippers first. Our gowns will be made to match,” said Red.

  Picking shoes before one’s gown sounded a little backward to Cinda, but she didn’t say so.

  Red dipped the pointed tip of the feather pen Cinda had found into a small bottle of ink that sat in a special holder on the end of one of the shelves. Then she signed her name and wrote the reservation date on the tag attached to the red slippers she’d chosen. Still holding the slippers, she left the tag on the shelf where the shoes had been.

  “There’s a tag attached to everything that can be checked out of the library,” she explained to Cinda. “Whenever you want to check something out, you just sign your name on the sign-out tag, and leave the tag on the shelf where you found your slippers or whatever.”

  As Red spoke, Cinda heard odd sounds coming from a nearby S aisle. Snip, snip, snip. Seconds later, Rapunzel appeared. Her hair was only down to her waist now. She must’ve found some scissors in one of the S aisles and used them to cut it off!

  Cinda gasped in surprise. Rapunzel’s hair was so beautiful. Why would she cut it? Not that it wasn’t still beautiful. It was just, well, shorter.

  At Cinda’s gasp, Rapunzel eyed her a little warily. Snow and Red had shown no reaction to her shorter hair at all. Following their lead, Cinda quickly made her face a blank, pretending not to notice as well.

  Rapunzel seemed to relax when Cinda didn’t comment on her haircut. She even smiled at her.

  Glad she hadn’t accidentally said anything to offend the prickly girl, Cinda smiled back.

  “Like Ms. Goose said, artifacts must be checked back into the library by midnight,” Red went on.

  “By midnight of the same day they’re checked out,” Rapunzel added. She started looking through the slippers to choose some for herself.

  Red nodded. “With rare exceptions like the coming Ball. Books can be checked out for two weeks at a time, though.”

  “But nothing in the library can leave school grounds,” warned Snow. She’d pulled the tag off the blue slippers and was using the shared pen to fill it out. After she finished, she disappeared down the Slippers aisle to place the tag on the shelf. In a flash, she was back.

  “But what happens if you do return something late?” Cinda couldn’t help asking again.

  “Dire consequences,” the three girls chorused, as though it was a line they’d all memorized.

  Rapunzel picked up a pair of calf-height lace-up slippers with two-inch chunky heels. They looked more like boots than slippers. And they were black, of course. It seemed to be her favorite color.

  Cinda watched her pull the tag from the black boot-slippers. Snow handed Rapunzel the pen. After she completed the tag, Rapunzel set it back on the shelf, but kept the boot-slippers.

  “What sort of dire consequences?” Cinda asked. She knew she was probably being annoying, but she really wanted to know!

  “It varies,” said Rapunzel.

  “Usually, the borrowed item’s magic starts to go haywire,” said Red.

  “How about these?” Changing the subject, Snow picked up a pair of pale yellow slippers and held them out to Cinda.

  “They match your hair perfectly!” Red told Cinda.

  “Okay, I’ll get them,” said Cinda, nodding. The shoes were cute, but she didn’t much care which slippers she chose. Because, of course, she had no intention of actually going to the ball. She signed her name on the tag quickly with the date she would pick them up as the other girls had done.

  Borrower: Cinderella

  Pickup day: Friday

  She set the slippers back on the shelf.

  “No, bring them. So we can match our gowns. C’mon,” said Red. She led the way through the shelves, and the other girls followed.

  On the way from the S section to the G section, the girls went through the P section. Cinda spotted a big empty space on one of the P shelves. The sign above it read: PETER PETER PUMPKINEATER’S PUMPKIN. Which reminded Cinda of the little pumpkin she’d seen in her trunker that morning. Or thought she’d seen.

  “The pumpkin that goes there must be humongous!” she said, pointing at the empty place where it should’ve been sitting.

  Red glanced at the shelf and nodded. “Big enough for Peter to put his wife inside its shell.”

  “Why would his wife want to be inside a pumpkin shell?” Cinda asked as they walked on.

  “They’re magicians. It’s part of their magic act,” Snow explained. “Peter Peter Pumpkineater puts his wife in a pumpkin shell. And there he keeps her very well.”

  “Yeah, until he makes her disappear,” said Rapunzel. “Poof!” She flicked the fingers of one hand in the air. Then she added, “Their son, Peter Peter Pumpkineater Junior, goes to Grimm Academy. He brought his parents to my Bespellings and Enchantments class on Career Day last year to talk about being magicians.”

  “Do you think he made the pumpkin disappear, too?” Cinda asked. “Because there’s no sign-out tag on the shelf.”

  “When there’s no tag, it means an item is only for in-library use,” said Snow. “The pumpkin actually belongs to Peter Peter and is most likely on loan to the library. He must’ve put restrictions on it.”

  “Somewhere in the library right now, someone’s probably using that pumpkin for a report on magical fruits and vegetables or something,” said Rapunzel.

  As they turned onto another P aisle, Cinda and Red wound up walking in front of Snow and Rapunzel. A few feet ahead, Cinda spotted a box labeled PINCHES. Her eyes met Red’s, and she could tell that Red had noticed it, too.

  Cinda’s cheeks turned pink. Unable to help herself, she blurted, “I didn’t pinch Odette.”

  “I know,” said Red. “She pinched herself.”

  Cinda stared at her in surprise. “You knew?”

  “I figured it out. What I didn’t figure out is why she wanted me to think you had done it.”

  With a shrug of one shoulder, Cinda looked away. “We just don’t get along.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” asked Snow as they continued on.

  “That box of pinches we passed,” said Red.

  Cinda was glad when Red left it at that. She didn’t want to talk to them about her problems with the Steps. Even if this was the P section, where Problems probably belonged!

  When they finally arrived in the G section, Cinda’s companions kicked off their shoes. They put on the slippers they’d chosen for the ball, so Cinda did, too.

  There was a ti
ny mirror, no bigger than a three-inch square, hanging in the middle of a large, otherwise empty wall at the end of the aisle they were in. With thumb and forefinger, Red, Snow, and Rapunzel each tugged on the corners of the mirror’s silver frame and gently pulled outward at the same time.

  To Cinda’s amazement, the mirror began to stretch, getting bigger. In no time at all, it was taller than they were and wide enough so that all four girls could stand before it and see their reflections.

  “Why is a mirror in the G section?” asked Cinda.

  Red tapped her fingernails on the mirror. “Glass,” she explained. The rapping seemed to wake the mirror, and now it spoke:

  “What do you wish?

  You need only to ask,

  And I will complete for you

  Any fair task.”

  Red replied:

  “Mirror, Mirror on the wall,

  Please make us gowns for Prince Awesome’s ball.”

  “Mine should be made of red satin with a big velvet bow around the waist,” she went on. “Oh, yes. And velvet sleeves.” She gestured with her hands to indicate how she wanted the dress to look and fit.

  When Red was done, Snow stepped forward a little. “I’d like one that’s pale blue with a wide skirt, and sleeves to my elbows,” she said. “And some sparkles here and there.” After she spoke, she stepped completely away from the mirror so it wouldn’t show her reflection anymore.

  Noticing Cinda’s curious glance, Snow murmured, “Mirrors weird me out.”

  “Black, please,” Rapunzel told the mirror next. “Long sleeves that go all the way down past my wrists onto my hands. Scoop neck. And a narrow skirt with a slit up to one knee. No sparkles.”

  “Oh, come on,” begged Snow. “Sparkles are fun!”

  “Okay,” Rapunzel said, quickly giving in. “Add sparkles. But only around the neckline.”

  The three girls all looked expectantly at Cinda now. “Your turn,” said Red.

  Although Cinda didn’t know the first thing about designing ball gowns (if she had, she wouldn’t have sewn bells to the hem of the gown she had on), she closed her eyes and tried to imagine the prettiest dress she could think up. Then she opened her eyes and described it.

  “It should be yellow to match my borrowed slippers. Scoop neck, with puffy sleeves and a full skirt.” She looked at Snow and grinned. “And sparkles, of course!”

  “Sounds adorable,” Snow said in a happy, dreamy voice. She was obviously really into fashion.

  Suddenly, there came the sound of dozens of small flapping wings. Bluebirds were flying toward the girls from across the library. Probably coming from the B section, Cinda thought.

  Their beaks were hanging on to bedsheet-size pieces of fabric, which billowed out behind them like colorful sails. There was a bright red piece, a soft blue piece, a black piece, and a buttery yellow piece.

  The birds dropped down beside each girl and got to work. They wrapped Cinda in the yellow satin cloth. The color matched her candle-flame hair exactly. More birds followed, overlaying the satin skirt with see-through yellow fabric.

  “Shouldn’t we take off our other gowns first?” Cinda asked the others. “My hem’s a little dusty.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Red. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Okay.” Cinda trusted her new friend to be right.

  Snip! Snip! Pairs of birds opened and shut little silver scissors. They darted here and there, working two by two to snip away fabric where it wasn’t needed.

  As Cinda’s dress began to take shape, the old one she was wearing underneath magically faded away. She was startled to feel it disappear. Ms. Goose had said they couldn’t take the ball gowns from the library today. So what was she going to wear when they left?

  With threaded needles in their beaks, some of the birds began sewing. Others flitted around, chirping at the stitchers, as if offering them fashion advice in birdspeak.

  Minutes later, all four girls stood before the mirror again to admire their finished, elegant gowns. Ribbons were tied just so and the tiny sparkles on their bodices and skirts winked in the chandeliers’ candlelight from overhead.

  “Wow!” Cinda said softly. She turned from side to side, studying herself in the glass and enjoying how the skirt of her gown swayed and swished. The color and style were exactly as she’d imagined and described them to the mirror. She looked, well, beautiful!

  Longing filled her. It really was too bad she wouldn’t actually get to wear the gown. No way was she going to that ball, though. She’d make a fool of herself if she had to dance. She’d just have to come up with some excuse to get out of going.

  “We’d better hurry,” said Red. “I think I hear some other girls coming. They’ll want to use the mirror to make their ball gowns, too.”

  The minute Cinda took off her new gown, her old one reappeared. So it wasn’t gone forever, after all. Which was definitely a good thing, since she couldn’t very well walk around the Academy in her underwear!

  The girls quickly hung the new gowns on a long, empty rack and tagged each one with their names and the date they would pick them up. Cinda had to admit that this visit had been fun, even if she wasn’t quite as much into fashion as her companions. Trying on new outfits could be surprisingly entertaining with cool girls like these, who weren’t always critical like the Steps.

  They all took off their chosen slippers and placed them in net bags as Rapunzel waved over some geese flying above them. Four flew down, took the bags in their beaks, and flapped away with them, heading for the S section where the slippers would stay until they were picked up on Friday.

  Since the girls were still in the G section, Cinda asked, “Are the Great Books of Grimm here in this section, too?”

  “Sure, want to see them?” asked Snow.

  “Yes!” Cinda said excitedly.

  A few turns later, they were inside a room lined with bookshelves and stuffed with things belonging to the Grimm brothers. Dozens of portraits hung on one wall, including seven in carved golden frames that were grouped together in the center. For some reason, one of those seven was covered with a drape so the painting couldn’t be seen.

  Cinda’s eyes went wide when she noticed that objects were moving around the room under their own power. A deck of cards shuffled itself and then settled onto a polished antique desk in four even piles. An umbrella in the corner leaped upward, opened, twirled around, and then shut itself again.

  “It’s the most magical room in the library,” murmured Red.

  “In the whole of Grimmlandia!” Snow agreed.

  When a swan-shaped paperweight lifted from the desk and headed Cinda’s way, she started to duck. But it seemed to know she was there, because it circled around her and gradually came to rest on a shelf.

  A sign on that same shelf read:

  Protected here are the writings of the

  Grimm brothers, Charles Perrault,

  Hans Christian Andersen, L. Frank Baum,

  Lewis Carroll, Andrew Lang, Edmund Dulac,

  Mother Goose, and other great works of

  fairy tale, folklore, and nursery rhyme.

  “Ms. Goose is an author?” Cinda asked in surprise.

  The others nodded.

  “Rhymes are her specialty,” said Rapunzel. “She thinks up most of the trunker combinations we use.”

  “Hey, I’m getting hungry,” said Snow. “Is it okay if we head out now and come back some other time? We don’t want to be late for dinner!”

  “Sure. Thanks for showing me all this.” As Cinda followed the three girls to the door, she glanced over at the ornate desk, where the cards were now flipping themselves face up in some kind of game. Above the desk hung a splendid coat of arms, which looked like a big shield with various gold emblems on it. Probably it was the Grimm brothers’ coat of arms, Cinda thought, since most everything in this room related to them.

  As she stared at the shield, something changed. All at once, a small, roundish area of the coat of arms went mist
y and foggy. Transparent, almost!

  And then … what was that … was there a nose showing through? Cinda blinked. When she looked again, an eyeball seemed to peek out at her through the hazy circle of mist.

  “Eek!” Cinda shrieked. Clinkety. Clink. Clink. The bells on her hem jingled wildly as she dashed from the room. Spooked by her outburst, the other girls sped up, too.

  When they were all back out in the hall again, Red asked her breathlessly, “What was that about?”

  “I saw … I mean, I thought I saw an eyeball peeking out of that coat of arms by the desk! Just for half a second. Then it disappeared,” said Cinda.

  “Good,” said Snow, looking freaked out. “I mean, it’s supposed to be a coat of arms. Not a coat of eyeballs!”

  When the other two girls exchanged looks that seemed skeptical, Cinda was instantly sorry she’d said anything. Did they think she was lying? “Maybe I only imagined it,” she said quickly.

  It had been a very long day, after all. And she wasn’t used to magic. Maybe the novelty of it was messing with her head!

  As they left the library, the girls heard the Hickory Dickory Dock clock bong nine times. “Nine o’clock!” said Cinda. “How did it get to be so late?”

  “Oh, no, we missed dinner completely!” said Snow. “Time flies in the library,” she explained to Cinda. “Once I was in there for ten hours, and thought it was only ten minutes.”

  “Time can also drag in there, though,” said Red. “Back in first grade, I got lost and thought two days had passed, but it only turned out to be two hours.”

  Rapunzel nodded. “Never knowing how the hours are passing can make it hard to get things checked back in on time!”

  The Grimm girls headed up to the twisty stairway that led to the three dorm towers.

  When they reached the door to the stairs, Rapunzel opened it for the others, but she didn’t go up. “Night,” she told them softly. Then she turned back the way they’d come to head down the grand staircase again.

  Where was she going? Didn’t she sleep in the dorm tower, too? Cinda wondered.