Naughty Nelle

by L'Amour, Nelle

  “Men are attracted to women who think they’re beautiful.”

  What does this two hundred-pound bruiser of a woman know about beauty that I don’t?

  “And besides, there are other attributes far more important than mere physical beauty for attracting a man,” she continues.

  Now, she’s really got me curious. Elz is also all ears.

  “It’s simple. Be confident. Be playful. Be interested. Men are fascinated by women who find them fascinating.”

  What is she—some kind of seduction genie?

  “Winnie, how do you know all this sh…stuff?” I ask with a tone of distrust.

  “I landed a husband,” she says before forlornness edges out the pride on her face. “You know, I was thin once.”

  At breakfast, Elz flutters around The Enchanted Garden, singing her “lalalas” louder than ever.

  “Careful,” I overhear Winnie whisper to her. “Let him know you exist, but don’t be too obvious.”

  To my amazement, Winnie’s words of wisdom work like a charm. Hook strides up to Elz and checks out her pillar-like body. Even in flats, she’s several inches taller than him.

  “Elzmerelda, you’re looking particularly lovely today,” he says, flashing his pearly white teeth.

  “Really?” She sounds more disbelieving than flattered.

  He sneaks a wink at me. Asswipe! Fortunately, Elz is too enraptured to notice. I just don’t get what she sees in this pompous asshole.

  “Puh-lease!” comes a sarcastic voice nearby. It’s Sasperilla. She moseys over to us.

  “Captain, why are you wasting your time with her? Smiling coyly, she bats her eyelashes. “Everyone says I’m the pretty one.”

  Elz frowns but says nothing.

  Sasperilla twirls around to show herself off. Her frilly pink frock does little for her other than to expose the beveled edges of her rib cage.

  Hook gives her the once-over. “Babe, you should put some meat on those bones.”

  Sasperilla turns as pink as her dress and stomps off. I’m grateful for Hook’s brutal honesty despite how much I despise him.

  “So, Jane—” he says, moving closer to me.

  I cut him off. “Later. It’s time for morning meditation.”

  “I’ll be meditating about you, babe.”

  And I’ll be in some other world where he doesn’t exist.

  I head over to Shrink’s office for my session after morning meditation.

  Reclining in the chaise, I shift restlessly waiting for her to show up. Why do I always have to see bugface right after morning meditation and mess up the rest of my day? I mean, after meditation, I’m always so relaxed and empowered. After Shrink, I’m always so stressed and damaged. It’s not fair. I’m going to ask for a schedule change. I’ve been here long enough. Four forever days. I deserve it.

  “Today, Jane, we’re going to play a little game,” says Shrink as she finally flits into her office.

  Big whoop.

  “Did you ever play any games as a child?”

  Only one game comes to mind. When my mother was out with her latest male conquest, I would sneak into her room and dress up in one of her pretty gowns. Then, I would stand in front of her treasured mirror and pretend I was a beautiful princess, waiting for my handsome prince to come and take me away. Far away to a magnificent palace in a magical land. Far, far away from my mother.

  “I used to play make-believe,” I say, omitting the details of my childhood fantasy.

  “Perfect! Because that’s exactly what we’re going to play today. A game of make-believe.”

  Ha! This should be fun.

  “Jane, if you were an object, what would you be?”

  What kind of stupid question is that? I have no clue.

  “Jane, I’m waiting for an answer,” Shrink buzzes around the room impatiently.

  I survey my surroundings. “This chaise lounge,” I finally blurt out.

  “Why did you pick this chaise?”

  “It happens to be here, right?”

  “No, Jane. There must be a better reason. You could have picked the door, the clock, or your shoes. They’re here too.”

  She has a point. Where is she going with this mind game?

  Hovering above me, she looks straight into my eyes. “So, Jane, why did you really pick the chaise?”

  “Because it reminds me of myself.” Why am I’m saying this? I don’t look like a piece of furniture.

  “How so, Jane?” Shrink’s interest is stirred.

  I sit up straight and examine the worn out chaise. My eyes take in its elegant lines and graceful curves. It’s actually a shame it’s so tattered.

  “Because it’s long and lean like me,” I say.

  “Yes, Jane, it is.” She seems pleased with my answer.

  “At some time, it must have been beautiful.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “It has good bones. I suppose, if it were re-upholstered, it would be beautiful again.”

  “Jane, do you think you need to be re-upholstered?”

  “That’s a ridiculous question!” I laugh. Though when I think about it, I could use a new head of hair.

  “Fine, Jane. Then, answer this. What’s the difference between you and the chaise?”

  Okay, now she wants to prove I’m stupid. Anyone with a brain knows the difference.

  “Um…. I’m a person and the chaise is a piece of furniture?” I say with obvious sarcasm.

  “That’s right, Jane. The chaise is an object. What’s the difference between a person and an object?”

  Another stupid question! Who does she think I am—some dopey dwarf? Well, two can play at this game.

  “Duh! A person can see and feel; an object can’t.”

  “Jane, enough with the attitude,” says Shrink harshly. “Now, close your eyes and imagine the life of this chaise.”

  Reluctantly, I close my eyes and fantasize where this chaise once lived. For sure, it must have inhabited a beautiful palace, full of riches and regal people. Generation after generation lounged on it until it was worn out and ultimately given away.

  “It must have belonged to a royal family,” I tell her after opening my eyes.

  “Yes. It did. A queen once nursed her infant twin sons on it. They grew up to be kind, handsome princes.”

  In my head, I picture a woman cradling a baby boy in her arms. Her head is lowered, her lips pressed against his warm, silky skull. When she lifts her head, I see her face and jolt. The mother with the child is me!

  “Jane, I’m going to ask you again; what’s the difference between you and this chaise?”

  My lips quiver. “This chaise has known love.”

  “Jane, did your mother love you?”

  A painful knot forms in my stomach. I don’t want to talk about my mother. I can’t! Just in time, the chime sounds.

  “Jane, time’s up for today. I’ll see you here tomorrow.”

  Slowly, I peel myself off the chaise. I don’t want to leave it. Not today.

  At lunch, I have no appetite. And I’m in no mood for conversation. I half-listen as Elz picks Winnie’s brain about her next move with Hook.

  “Don’t forget to play hard-to-get. Remember, men are basically thrill seekers engaged by hunting instincts,” instructs Winnie.

  The conversation turns to me. “Jane, how come you’re so quiet?” asks Elz.

  “Was therapy rough?” asks Winnie.

  How does she know? She’s a relationship guru and a mind reader?

  “I thought therapy’s supposed to make you feel better.”

  “Actually, most of the time it doesn’t.” Winnie passes me a bowl. “Have some of my vegetable soup. This will make you feel better.”

  I sip a tablespoon of the warm, hearty soup. And guess what, it does make me feel better. I scoff down the entire bowl.

  By the time group rolls around, I’m back to myself. And contemplating an escape plan.

  In group, Elz heeds Winnie’s play-
hard-to-get advice and sits as far away from Hook as she can. I end up sitting next to him. Regrettably.

  “So, babe, how ’bout it tonight?” he whispers in my ear.

  Pressing his thigh against mine, he gives me his smarmy you-don’t-know-what-you’re-missing-out-on smile.

  I edge away from him before I punch him where it hurts and focus my attention on Grimm.

  “Today, we’re going on a group hike in The Enchanted Forest.”

  Fine with me. At least, I won’t be stuck sitting next to swineface for an hour.

  “We’re going to engage in a non-visual intimate encounter with trees,” Grimm continues.

  Great. This morning I had to pretend I was a piece of furniture, and now I have to hump a tree. Rehab is just all fun and games.

  “I have randomly paired you up. Winifred will be with What’s-His-Name; Elzmerelda will be with…”

  Elz looks longingly at Hook, hoping he’ll be her partner.

  “…her sister, Sasperilla.”

  “No way!” shrieks Sasperilla. “I’m not partnering with her!”

  Poor Elz cannot hide her disappointment.

  “…and finally, Jane will be with…”

  I hear his name before Grimm says it. My luck! I’m stuck with Hook!

  The rogue won’t leave me alone. As Grimm explains our tree game, his hook toys with the buttons on my dress. I inch away from him, only to have him move closer. Maybe some rabid squirrel will bite his nuts.

  “The way this exercise works is that one person is blindfolded while his or her partner directs them to a tree that fits their personality. Blah, blah, blah, blah.” I’m so distracted by Hook that I hardly hear a word Grimm’s saying. The next thing I know, we’re flipping a coin to determine which partner will be blindfolded first. It’s going to be What’s-His-Name, Sasperilla, and me.

  “What this exercise does is build responsibility and trust in a fun way,” says Grimm.

  Sasperilla plants her hands on her jutting hipbones and fumes. “Elzmerelda’s out to get me! I can’t trust her!”

  “You can trust me, babe.” Hook slaps my ass.

  Cripes! How am I going trust him when he’s out to get me?

  Grimm is such a liar. This is not going to be fun.

  Grimm has assigned us different paths so we don’t bump into one and other. Just as I thought, being alone—and blindfolded—with Hook in the middle of the forest is no walk in the park. I can hardly wait for this stupid tree-hugging game to end.

  “So, Jane, what kind of trees are you into?” asks Hook. “I bet you like them big and hard.”

  I’m not answering that question.

  “Have you ever felt the flow of life energy in a tree?”

  “No,” I reply dryly.

  “You’ve been missing out on a life-changing experience.”

  “Just tell me where to go.” I can sense he’s no longer standing next to me. His voice sounds distant.

  “Take ten giant steps ahead of you and then ten to the right. I think you’ll find your perfect tree.”

  I’m anxious. “Hook, weren’t you supposed to hold my hand and lead me to the tree?”

  “Babe, that’s a different game,” he chuckles.

  I admit I really wasn’t paying attention while Grimm was explaining the rules. The good news is that I don’t have to hold the asshole’s hand—his hooked one or good one. Cautiously, I take one step after another. As I veer to the right, I hear a howl and then…

  I’m thirteen again, somewhere in the middle of a dark forest, hunting for magical leaves that my mother uses to beautify her complexion. She’s been seeing a King and doesn’t want him to think she’s a day over twenty-nine. As I reach for a leafy clump, a voice startles me. “This is no place for a beautiful young girl to be by herself.” I whirl around. Facing me is a burly bearded man whose eyes are the color of evergreens. In his hand is the biggest knife I’ve ever seen—it’s at least two-feet long. He stomps toward me. My heart races. He’s coming after me! I bolt. As I run for my life, gnarled branches tear my dress and claw my skin. Vines wrap around my limbs, and thorns bite into me. The trees have become monsters, trying to gobble me up alive. And the heavy crunching steps of the knife-wielding man are close behind me. Fear propels my legs to run faster and to fight the burning sensation filling my lungs. At last freedom. And then home. Breathless, I swing open the front door, never so happy to see my mother. Her eyes narrow into slithers of glass. “Where are my leaves?” she hisses. I open my mouth to tell her about the man, but—whack!—a groan leaks out instead. She’s smacked me with my tin. My cheek stinging, I grab it and flee…

  “You’re almost there.”

  Hook’s voice whisks me back to reality. It sounds like he’s moved closer to me, but in my disoriented state, I can’t tell exactly where he is.

  “Only two more giant steps.”

  Eager for this game to end, I take them.

  “Now, wrap your arms around the trunk and press your lips against the bark.”

  I hug the tree. Its rough bark scrapes my face, leaving it raw and prickly; its sap burns my lips. I’ve had enough. But the tree wants more. It wraps its limbs around me, pressing my body against its hard trunk. So tight, I can’t break loose. The more I resist, the more it sucks the life out of me. Oh my God! This tree is a monster.

  A shocked voice screams out. Elz.

  “Jane! How could you do this to me! I thought you were my friend!”

  With all my muscle-power, I wrench myself from the monster. Right in front of me is an erect Hook, wearing a proud smirk on his slimy lips. The pig! I should have known!

  “Elz, it’s not what you think!” Oh, God! What have I done?

  “I may need glasses, but I have eyes,” she cries.

  “Yo, Ho, Ho.” Hook laughs snidely.

  Game over! I slap him hard across the face. “I’d rather hug a one-eyed ogre than you!”

  Stunned, he rubs the bright red welt I’ve left on his cheek.

  Elz runs off into the woods, leaving her twig-of-a-sister behind.

  “Don’t leave me, you traitor!” shrieks Sasperilla. Still wearing her blindfold, she slams into a tree.

  “I think I broke my nose!” she wails. “Somebody help me!”

  As I flee from Hook, I’m shaking like a leaf.

  CHAPTER 10

  I usually dread my sessions with Shrink, but today I can hardly wait. It’s been an awful twenty-four hours. Elz has totally avoided me. She sat by herself at breakfast and refused to lead a chant with me during morning meditation. She didn’t even wish me sweet dreams last night. It’s as if I don’t exist.

  Lying in the chaise, I grow impatient. Shrink is usually late, but not this late. After fifteen minutes or so, I decide to split. I’m furious with Shrink for not showing up. Of all days!

  Rising, I notice Shrink’s bug-eyed spectacles peeking out from under the chaise. That’s strange. I bend over and pick them up. The rims are dented. Maybe, she crashed into something. Seriously, with all that fairy dust, it’s easy to be blindsided.

  Perhaps, she’s somewhere under the chaise. Stooping down to my knees, I run my hand beneath it. Uh oh! Something warm and fleshy. My heart skips a beat. A dead body? To my relief, it’s only a mouse. It scuttles away.

  Taking a deep breath, I stand up. And there she is. Behind the chaise, sprawled out on her back. Her eyes are shut, and her little wings are outstretched. Her blond hair has fallen loose and cradles her shoulders. She looks like a fallen butterfly.

  “Shrink, wake up,” I say, crouching over her.

  She doesn’t move.

  “Shrink, wake up!” I shout. “Wake up!” I fold her wings up and down like an accordion, but she still doesn’t budge.

  Oh no! Maybe she’s dead. A fat tear rolls down my cheek onto her teeny weeny body.

  “Is it raining in here? How many times do I have to tell them to fix that damn leak in the roof?”

  Shrink! She’s alive! Feistier than ever.
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  “So, Jane, where were we?” she asks as she spirals into the air.

  With a sigh of relief, I sink back into the chaise and talk about what happened yesterday with Hook. The words flow out of my mouth like a raging rapid.

  “Why are you upset that Elzmerelda is not talking to you?”

  “It’s not fair. I didn’t do anything.”

  “That’s not really why you’re upset.”

  “Okay, I feel rejected.”

  “Yes, you feel rejected. But if Hook rejected you, you wouldn’t feel bad, would you?

  “Hardly.” I’d do a happy dance.

  “Do you understand why you feel bad about Elzmerelda’s behavior?”

  I shake my head “no.”

  “Jane, you feel bad because Elzmerelda is your friend.”

  Silence.

  “Have you ever had a friend before?”

  Another flashback. This one to a little girl who’s seen me at the window. She’s motioning with her hand for me to come outside and play with her. My mother isn’t home. An opportunity. I toss my dust rag, dash out the front door, and slam into her on the landing. My mother, her lips clamped as tightly as her fists. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Jane?” Before I can utter a word, she shoves me back into the house, with such force I tumble, scraping my knees on the cold stone floor. A warm river of blood seeps through my torn muslin skirt.

  Tears burn my eyes as I shake my head. I never saw that little girl again.

  Shrink adjusts her lopsided, dented glasses.

  “Jane, let me tell you something about friends. Friends care about each other. You care about Elzmerelda. That’s why you’re upset she’s mad at you.”

  I take in what she’s just said. I miss Elz terribly. “Will she ever talk to me again?” I ask tentatively.

  “Yes, because she cares about you. Tell her the truth and give her a little time.”

  The chime sounds.

  “Time’s up for today, Jane. I’ll see you here tomorrow.”

  As I step out of her office, feeling much better, she calls out to me.

  “By the way, Jane, thank you for finding my spectacles. No more triple air flips for me.”