My Name is Rapunzel

by K. C. Hilton

  Gretta looked him over from head to toe and laughed. “You mean, you don't know? You really have no idea?”

  He shook his head. “I need to know.”

  “It's your fault, you know.”

  Father’s head reeled back in horror. His face blanched. “My fault? What do you mean my fault?”

  “It's your family. An ancient glory passed down through generations of your bloodline—through the girl children in your family, to be exact. A gift stowed within them…until they have children, that is.” She eyed him closely. “Rapunzel has something I need. End of story. I will get it, and continue to get it, for as long as I live. Forever.”

  “Is there no way? What about the boy? Why did you have to take him from her?”

  “Rapunzel cannot marry and have a child. If she gives birth, the power is gone from her. Besides, I don't like to share.”

  Father sighed, his shoulders hunching over. He looked defeated. He was defeated.

  So that was it? Something with my blood. My presence? My touch? I slumped against the wall. What was I missing? I wound a clump of hair between my fingers as I thought.

  My hair. It had to be my hair. I reached up and felt the nape of my neck where my long braid dangled. It all made sense now. Memories of sitting on the stool in Gretta’s kitchen as she brushed my hair with a wooden brush, and sometimes as she cut it.

  But why my hair? What could she want with it? What if I refused to let her take my hair next time she wanted it? I could keep her going for years and years, desperate for access, but getting no relief. It was the only power I had.

  I looked at mother. “I'll be okay, mother. You have to stop him from doing something like this again. I couldn't bear it if she turned on the two of you. She will not hurt me as long as there's something she wants from me. Just leave it be.”

  Mother nodded, but her eyes had taken on a glint. I hoped she wasn't going to do something stupid.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  1778

  “William is a fine young man.”

  “No one is arguing that, Mother. William is a fine young man.” Not to mention well-stationed, moneyed, and handsome. Although, that probably was what Mother meant by fine. “That's not the point. It doesn't matter at all. I have nothing to offer him.”

  “You have everything to offer him. Your entire life, your entire future. In fact, you have more to offer William than any other human being on this planet.”

  “I wish you hadn’t invited him here.” Mother had meant well, but her meddling would do more harm than good. “You've got to just let it rest.”

  “I can't, Rapunzel. You must have love in your life again. You're too young to let it die with Henry.” Mother twisted the water from her dishrag and laid it over the washbasin. She turned to face me. “Your father and I won't be here forever, but it looks as if you will be, or at least for a very long time. You can choose to spend year after year, century after century, mourning a loss. Or you can move on and enjoy love throughout your lifetime. I vote for love.”

  It was a good thought, but it just wouldn't work that way. “You must realize that if I invite someone else into my life, he will find out about me. All it takes is one person to claim I’m a witch and, well, my existence would be much different than it would be if I remained private.”

  Mother sighed. “That's the only thing. That's the only part I haven't figured out.”

  “Well, trust me. I’ve given it a lot of thought. There is no other way. I must stay alone.”

  Father cleared his throat. He nodded at Mother.

  What was going on?

  “Your father and I, we had another notion. We've arranged a plan, of sorts. We think there might be a way out of this tragedy.”

  I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. “I can't imagine what it would be, but I'm listening.”

  “Well, it seems to me that in order to let you go, to free you, the witch would need a substitute. A sacrifice. With the right sacrifice, we might be able to get you back your life.”

  I didn’t like the sound of this. And my life back? A life without my Henry was no life at all. “A sacrifice? Where are we to find a sacrifice that would free me of her clutches?”

  Mother turned her back as though she could not look me in the eye with what she was about to tell me. “Your father and I…we are having a baby.”

  The earth fell out from beneath my feet. What was she saying? How could she be saying this? Did she mean… “I don't understand.” I reached forward, grabbed her shoulders, and turned her to face me. I had to see her eyes. “Are you saying…?”

  “Yes.” Mother let out a heavy sigh. “Listen, my dear daughter. Your father and I know you. We love you. We would do anything to protect you. And to save you from this life to which you've been sentenced…” She looked away and heaved a heavy sigh. “We will give birth to a baby. It will be a girl, or we’ll try again. We will never look upon it, we will never know it, and we will never love it. That witch can come and take it away and use it as she would have used you. It will have the same benefit to her that you do. Whatever that is.”

  I leaned against the wall, my legs no longer able to hold up my body. I slid to a heap on the floor. “How could it have come to this? How could it be that we'd even be talking about such a thing?” I shook my head. “There's no way I can allow this.”

  “It's too late. I’m already with child.”

  ***

  I watched as mother bent her body to do the wash, her form heavy. How must she feel? The baby moved within her just as I once had. It was a life created by her and Father…and God. If there actually was a God.

  Did she dread the baby’s birth every day? Was she having second thoughts? She should be. I wished she would end this madness.

  I wandered outside and around the house to the garden where Father bent over his tulips with his shears. “Father, may I speak with you?”

  He rocked back on his haunches and looked up at me, his whiskered face breaking into a grin. “Of course you can, my daughter. Sit with me.” He patted the grassy space beside him.

  I gathered my skirts around my knees and lowered myself to ground.

  “Now, what would you like to speak with me about?” Father's kind eyes twinkled.

  Surely he knew. He must feel it, too. “You must stop Mother from doing this.” I had to convince him, no matter what.

  His eyes opened in surprise. “Surely you realize what we are trying to do. What we must do.”

  “Yes. I know your motivation. I know what you hope to accomplish. But we don't know that it will work. And really, Father, you are both risking your eternal souls to save my physical life—actually to end it, if we look at the situation truthfully.” I shook my head. “It's not a suitable trade. I'm not okay with this.” I stared into his eyes. “Father, that baby that Mother is carrying? That's my brother or my sister. I love that baby already. Just as I know you and Mother do. I would sooner sacrifice myself than have that baby sacrificed for me. Don't you understand?”

  Father's eyes filled with tears. “I do understand. I would give anything—my life, even your mother’s life—if we could save the two of you.” He looked down at his work-worn palms. Big tears fell into their emptiness. “Here we sit, helpless.” Those calloused hands had seen their share of hard work. But no amount of strength would save him from what he was about to endure.

  I took his hands in mine and squeezed them. “Can you stop her, Father? Can we stop this?”

  “It would take an act of God to deter her from her course.” He hung his head.

  “Then I hope you don't mind if I pray for an act of God.”

  ***

  “What was that?” My eyes flew open and searched the dark room. There it was again. A woman’s scream. I scrambled across my bed, untangling my legs from the covers, and reached to the floor for my robe. I slipped my arms into the sleeves and felt the floor with my feet for my slippers.

  There it was again. Who was screaming? Mother? The baby!r />
  “Magdalena. My love!” That was Father’s voice. He sounded frantic. I raced across my bedroom and pulled open my door. I scurried down the hall as fast as my slippered feet would take me. I practically slid into their bedroom and stopped short.

  The scene resembled that of a cow slaughter. Blood was everywhere. Doc Johnson stood beside the bed, bent over Mother’s panting form. “Magdalena, I need you to open your eyes and look at me. I want to help you.”

  Mother struggled to keep all local and focused. “I just need to sleep.”

  “No. Sleep is the last thing you need right now. Stay with us.”

  I searched the room for signs of a birth. Where was the baby?

  Molly, the midwife, huddled in the corner in the rocking chair. She held a tiny bundle. The baby? But the rocker, why was it still? I looked into Molly’s hollow eyes. The baby was gone. I turned my gaze immediately back to mother. She cried softly, her body heaving with blood loss.

  Oh God, please let my mother live. After all, he'd answered my prayers about sparing Mother from making the choice about the baby. Yet, this wasn't what I'd intended. I wanted the baby alive with us. Not like this. I turned to the midwife. Maybe I’d been mistaken.

  Molly shook her head and pulled the still bundle closer.

  I raced to Father's side and slipped my hand in his. He turned his face as though shocked to see me there. After a moment, recognition registered. “Oh, my daughter. What have we done?”

  I shook my head. “This is not our fault. We prayed for what was right. We wanted to spare Mother from…”

  Father surveyed the room. “From this. We wanted to spare her from this.” He'd come around. Father was a wise man. He'd realize that the best scenario would have been that we were all together. Second best was this. Far distant would have been to surrender the child to that witch. I couldn’t have allowed that. But…if only we could have known before it was too late.

  Mother's eyes fluttered. Pink had returned to her cheeks. She was coming back. “Where's the baby? Where's the baby?”

  Dr. Johnson leaned in close to Mother's ear. “I'm very sorry, but the baby is gone.”

  Father reached a hand out and squeezed his wife's shoulder. “The doctor did everything he could, precious.”

  Mother nodded like she’d expected the loss. “Boy or girl?” She closed her eyes.

  “It was a boy, my love.”

  They had done it all for nothing. They had wanted a girl to appease the witch and give me my life back. And now the baby boy hadn’t even lived. My brother.

  Mother turned her head away as a single tear escaped. She whipped her head back toward me and locked eyes with mine. “We will try again.”

  No! I shook my head and stepped forward to talk sense into her.

  Father grabbed my wrist and shook his head. He nodded toward the doctor.

  “No.” Doc Johnson shook his head. “I'm afraid with the trauma your body has endured, and the loss of blood, you will not be able to have another.”

  Mother nodded. No tears fell. It was as if she resigned herself to the inevitable. Finally, she lifted her eyes to mine once more. “I'm sorry, my love. I did all I could.”

  “I love you, Mother.” While I didn't understand what she’d been willing to do, I certainly recognized the sacrifice. I only hoped that I’d have the opportunity to love like that one day.

  ***

  Hmm. Maybe mother was right. William wasn't so bad. Maybe I could partner up with him for a few years, at least make Mother feel better. I could sacrifice myself to save her. It would be worth it. Really, it wouldn’t be that much of a sacrifice. But what if I fell in love with him? I couldn’t do that to Henry…or to myself.

  That was the problem. My biggest fear was feeling love and then having to lose it again. Would I love William? I glanced into the garden from the kitchen window to where he sat and spoke with Father. He looked up to my father. Everyone did.

  William looked like a nice man, good-looking, even, but my heart didn't do with William what it did with Henry. Maybe it was incapable of that ever again. Maybe that kind of standard was an impossible one. But if mother thought I could be happy, if she thought that I would learn to live in love again, maybe she’d manage to let go of the fear and dread she carried on her shoulders with every waking breath. I would try for her.

  I dusted my hands on my apron, then reached back and yanked the tie. I caught the apron before it fell and looped the ties across the doorknob. I glanced into the mirror beside the front door and tucked an errant strand of blond hair behind my ear. I squeezed my cheeks until they pinked and walked outside.

  “So, what are you all doing around here? What’s the topic of the day?” I pasted a sunny smile on my face. William’s eyes twinkled. Joy lent truth to the assumption that Henry and I had broken up. It hid the fact that my life had shattered when he disintegrated before my eyes.

  Could that be pride on Father's face? He seemed to be enjoying my rapid change of heart. But it was for my mother I even tried to approach William. I would do anything to pull her out of her pain. Hopefully one day soon, my heart would catch up with the duty I felt to move on with my life.

  In the meantime… “So, William, how was hunting season this year?” Hunting season? That was the best I could come up with?

  William’s eyes brightened. “Oh, the dogs we have this year? They are trained so beautifully and almost sense what they need to do. It's a miraculous thing to watch them at work. We had a wonderful season. Probably the best ever. Thank you for asking.” His eyes flitted about. Certainly searching for something to keep the conversation going. Men were no good at such things.

  “And your holiday?”

  “Holidays at Cheshire Manor…well, you know.” William grinned and allowed me a moment to conjure the memory.

  Yes, I knew them well. “My family has been visiting Cheshire Manor at Christmastime since I was a small child. Did your mama make some of that hot apple cider we kids loved so much?”

  “Of course.” William winked at Father. “There's something you don't know about that hot apple cider, Rapunzel.” He looked at Father conspiratorially. “Shall I tell her?”

  Father chuckled. “I sure wouldn't want to be the gentleman that tried to keep a secret from Rapunzel. You best be telling her, boy. Posthaste.”

  William laughed. “I can see by the fire in her eyes that you're right, sir. Well, Rapunzel. That hot apple cider? The secret ingredient was brandy.”

  I felt my jaw drop. I must act like a lady, but the shock was too great. “Brandy? We were children!” And here I thought I’d been a teetotaler my entire life. Who’d have imagined I got tipsy as a young girl.

  “Yes.” William laughed. “We were children. Children whose parents wished us to fall asleep at an early hour so they could play billiards.”

  I gasped in shock then laughed as I turned to my father. “Oh, the stories come out now, don't they?”

  “I understand your surprise. My parents didn't tell me until last year.”

  “No wonder we liked that stuff so much.” It was nice to laugh.

  “I'm sorry to say that I fully intend to do the same thing with my children one day.” William grinned and hitched his belt.

  My heart sank into my stomach. Children. Why hadn't I thought that through? Of course he would want children. Why wouldn't he? It was one thing to marry a man for companionship, knowing you're going to lose him, but to have children knowing they would live and die in circles around you? That would be worse than losing Henry…if that were possible. I couldn't do it. But what was the alternative? I could marry William and never have his baby. But that would be as unfair to him as this life I was living.

  No. A life with William could never happen. I had to end it now.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  1808

  “Shh.” I patted Mother's face with a damp cloth. “It's going to be okay. It's okay.” I blinked back tears. I hated to see her suffer, but it was so hard to let go. Th
e doctor had come and gone already. He said she was holding on for me.

  For me. What could she do for me now?

  He’d said I needed to release her, but how could I let her go? Eternity stretched on before me. First Henry. Now Mother.

  I glanced at Father, slumped in the hard backed chair in the corner. He dozed, though he would deny it later. He didn't want to miss a moment of his wife's remaining days—now, perhaps only hours. I should tell her. I should free her from her prison of pain.

  I kissed her feverish forehead. My lips singed with the heat of death. Her body wanted to go. It longed for the other side where she’d be free from worry and pain—if there were such a place. But even nothingness would be far better than the suffering she endured.

  Her eyelids fluttered, and she searched the space around her. I moved closer so she could focus on my face. I clenched her hands gently. “I'm here, Mother. It's okay.”

  She shook her head, her eyes frantic with fear.

  “Don't be afraid. Please, don't be afraid, Mama.”

  “I’m…not…afraid to die.” She gasped for oxygen. “I'm…afraid to…leave you. I need to know…”

  There it was. She was asking me to release her. She needed to know I would be okay. It was my duty to assure her, though I still needed assurance myself.

  “I love you so much. You've been a wonderful mother. My best friend. Your beauty, your grace, and your strength have shaped me into the person I am. I will miss you every single day for as long as I live.”

  Mother's eyelids fluttered. She closed them for a brief moment. Then forced them back open. She needed more.

  “I will take care of Father. He will be okay.”

  Mother gave a barely perceptible nod. Her eyes searched mine for more.

  “And so will I. I will find a way to navigate this strange existence. I will find a way to be happy. Mother, close your eyes.” I gripped her hand a bit tighter. “It’s okay for you to let go.”