Witchy Tales: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fairy Tale

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Are you afraid of heights?” Thistle asked.

  “Of course not,” Sam scoffed.

  Even from twenty feet beneath him we could see his nose twitch.

  “I hate this stupid fairy tale world,” Sam grumbled.

  He wasn’t the only one. After a few minutes of watching Sam, Landon slid his eyes in my direction. “Are you really jealous because I was going to climb up there to get Clove?”

  Was I? It seemed an irrational reaction. Still … . “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe it’s this place.”

  Landon slung an arm over my shoulders and pulled me closer, tucking me in close. “You know you’re my only princess, right? Man, there’s another sentence I never thought I’d say out loud.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I have no idea why I’m jealous. I can’t explain it. I just … am.”

  “You were right to say something,” Landon said. “This is Sam’s job.”

  I pursed my lips but remained silent. I could feel Thistle’s stare burning into me, and I didn’t want to have this discussion in front of her. As if reading my mind, Thistle shuffled a few feet away. “I’m going to check the back of the tower and make sure there are no surprises waiting for us there,” she said. “You two keep talking about your … issues.”

  “We don’t have issues,” I said.

  “You’re having some serious issues right now,” Thistle said. “Don’t worry. I get it. If Marcus volunteered to be Clove’s prince I would be spitting nails right now.”

  I’d forgotten about Marcus. “Are you worried about him?”

  “Right after we get Clove out of here, we need to start looking for him,” Thistle said. “I’m not worried, but I am concerned.”

  “He’s our next priority,” I said.

  “Don’t worry,” Landon said. “We’ll find him. I promise.”

  “I know,” Thistle said. “I have … faith.”

  The second she said the words something happened. A sparkly mist enveloped her, descending on the pink dress. Within seconds the mist dissipated to reveal Thistle in her usual jeans and T-shirt. The look on her face was almost comical. She ran her hands up and down the shirt, a genuine smile on her face.

  “Thank the Goddess,” she said. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be out of that dress!”

  “We’re all happy you’re out of that dress,” Landon said. “I guess trusting the turtle to get you across the pond wasn’t enough.”

  “You had to have faith at the same time,” I said. “There are lessons built into all fairy tales. We have to figure out what they are.”

  “Well, you two get started on that,” Thistle said. “I’m still going to check the area behind the tower. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Marcus could be waiting for me right over that hill.”

  I watched her go, relieved things were going well for one of us. When I shifted my attention back, I found Landon studying me. “What?” I felt a little self-conscious.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I just … I don’t want you to be upset.”

  “We’re trapped in a fairy tale world,” I said. “I don’t think I have a choice but to be upset.”

  “You can be upset with our circumstances, but I don’t want you angry with me,” Landon said. “You really are my one and only princess.”

  I scowled. “I know. I said I was sorry. I have no idea why I was so jealous. It was stupid.”

  “I think it’s this place,” Landon said. “It’s amplifying the bad parts of our personalities. The flaws, as Aunt Tillie would say. I think that’s part of the curse. If we all work together, we’d figure a way out of this too quickly. She needs us to waste as much time in here as possible. That’s what all the petty bickering is.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. “That would be like her,” I said. “That makes me feel a little better. I don’t generally think of myself as a jealous person – that whole Lila Stevens nonsense notwithstanding.”

  Landon grinned and leaned over to kiss my forehead. “You’re not the only one being affected. Aunt Tillie was right. I’m bossy and I yell. Apparently I also have a hero complex.”

  “I like your hero complex,” I said, resting my head lightly on his shoulder. “There’s comfort in finding normality in a surreal world like this.”

  “We need to try really hard not to argue,” Landon said. “I know I’m guilty of doing the opposite, but now that we know what’s going on we can’t let our emotions get the better of us. If we feel something coming on, we ... just need to take a step back and breathe.”

  “That’s easier said than done,” I said. “Sam is climbing Clove’s hair and his nose grows every time he says anything sarcastic. That’s pretty dangerous when you’re in our situation.”

  Landon chuckled. “I think that’s kind of funny.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Sam was lying when we first met him,” Landon said. “It’s as though it’s … karma … coming back.”

  “I thought we were over that,” I said. “Sam is a good man. He put himself in danger to protect me.”

  “I know,” Landon said. “I still find it funny.”

  “Is that another personality flaw?”

  Landon shrugged. “Maybe. I guess you’ll just have to keep an eye on me.”

  “Somehow I think I’m up to the challenge,” I said.

  “Somehow I think you’re right.” Landon gave me a light kiss. “Just out of curiosity, who was your favorite princess?”

  “That’s a weird question.”

  “Don’t all girls have a favorite princess?”

  “I never really identified with the princesses,” I said.

  “You didn’t like fairy tales?”

  “I guess I did,” I said. “I just never pictured myself wearing a crown and a fancy dress.”

  “Maybe that’s why you stayed in your regular clothes,” Landon mused.

  “I don’t think that’s the reason,” I said. “I just don’t think the dress was necessary for my story. We’ll have to wait and see.”

  “I guess,” Landon said. He shifted his gaze to the tower window. “He’s there.”

  I watched as Clove latched onto Sam’s shoulders and pulled him in through the window. Sam tumbled inside, taking Clove down to the floor and out of sight. They didn’t immediately return to the window.

  “What do you think they’re doing?” Landon asked.

  “Kissing.”

  “Maybe Clove is transforming,” Landon suggested. “Sam finished the task.”

  “They’re still in the tower,” I said. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

  As if on cue, Sam and Clove reappeared in the window. “Now what?” Sam asked.

  That was a very good question. “I have no idea,” I said. “Now all we’ve accomplished is trapping both of you in the tower.”

  “Sam can always climb back down,” Landon said.

  “I’m not leaving Clove.”

  Another memory niggled the back of my brain. “We can cut Clove’s hair off,” I said. “Do it from up there. Use it like a rope. Tie it to something and you can both climb down.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Sam said. “I’ll see if I can find something to cut her hair.”

  “That is a good idea,” Landon said. “How did you come up with it?”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “Aunt Tillie did … twenty years ago.”

  “What?”

  “Ah-ha!”

  I jumped when Clove shouted. Instead of fear, though, her face resonated with rage. “You scared the bejeezus out of me.” She reached out and smacked someone. I was surprised when Thistle stepped into view.

  “How did you get up there?” Landon asked, surprised.

  “There’s a door on the back side of the tower,” Thistle said. “It looks as though it was hidden on this side.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sam said. “I thought I was supposed to save Clove. She’s my princess.”

  “Oh, crap, does this mean Thistle is
my prince?” Clove looked horrified.

  “No one wants that,” Thistle said. “I still suggest cutting your hair before we go down the stairs. They’re narrow. You’ll trip. Plus, you can’t drag that hair through the woods.”

  “Fine,” Clove said. “Just don’t make it uneven .. and I don’t care what happens, I’m not kissing you. I’m not that kind of princess.”

  “Yes, because that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted you to give me a big kiss. Stop wriggling! We’ll be down in a minute.”

  Every frog could be a prince. If you’re going to go around kissing them, though, you’re going to have a dirty mouth. Always carry mouthwash in your purse. Not only does it make your breath smell better, if you’re really in a pinch, you can throw it in someone’s eyes and burn them if they get mouthy.

  – Aunt Tillie’s Wonderful World of Stories to Make Little Girls Shut Up

  Seven

  “What happened to her dress?” I asked, looking Clove up and down once the three of them rejoined Landon and me on the ground. “Did it poof like yours did?”

  Thistle nodded. “The second I cut her hair the dress started dissolving.”

  “And what happened to Sam’s short shorts? I kind of miss them.”

  Sam scowled at me. “That’s not funny.”

  “I wish we had our cell phones so we could’ve taken pictures for Facebook,” Thistle said, grinning.

  “Sam’s outfit disappeared once he climbed through the window,” Clove said. “Everything went all sparkly and the next thing I knew he was in his normal clothes.”

  “I wonder why,” Thistle mused.

  “Because he fulfilled his fairy tale,” Landon said.

  “How?”

  “He was brave and true, just like the cricket told him to be,” Landon said. “He climbed up the tower without regard for his own safety. He cared only about getting to Clove.”

  “And you were going to steal my princess,” Sam grumbled.

  Landon shot him a look. “Don’t go there.”

  “What is he talking about?” Clove asked

  “Landon was going to climb up the tower for you because he thought he was stronger,” Sam said. “He stopped only because Bay was jealous.”

  “I was not jealous.”

  Thistle pressed her lips together.

  “I was not jealous,” I said.

  Landon rubbed my shoulder to soothe me. “Listen, we have to talk about a few things before we go anywhere else,” he said. “We figured out something while you guys were getting Clove out of the tower.”

  “Did you figure out that I’m as manly as you?” Sam asked.

  “Not even remotely,” Landon said, smirking.

  “We figured out that the curse is keying in on certain … personality traits,” I said. “Our personality faults, if you want to be more precise.”

  “Oh, crap,” Thistle said. “That’s why we’re arguing nonstop.”

  “You’ve been arguing nonstop?” Clove’s eyes widened. “That’s horrible.”

  “This is bad,” Thistle said. “This means Clove is going to be even more of a Pollyanna than usual, Bay is going to be more insecure than usual, Landon is going to be more bossy than usual and Sam is going to be … huh … what’s your biggest personality flaw?”

  “I don’t have one,” Sam said.

  “He’s got the ego thing with Landon,” I said.

  “Hey,” Landon said. “I thought we decided to call it a hero complex?”

  “Sorry, honey,” I said, smiling at him before rolling my eyes in Thistle’s direction. “This also means that you’re going to be more … bitchy … than usual. Can you say that word in a fairy tale land? Probably not. You’re going to be more whiny than usual.”

  “I am not whiny,” Thistle said.

  “You’re totally whiny,” Clove said, laughing. “I’m not a Pollyanna, though.”

  “You’re a total Pollyanna,” Thistle said.

  “Don’t listen to her, sweetheart,” Sam said, slipping his arm around Clove’s waist and pulling her close. “She’s trying to get under your skin the way she always does.”

  “Which means that’s going to be amplified while we’re here,” I said. “We all have to make a concerted effort to control ourselves. Think before you speak.”

  “Does that go for you, too?” Thistle challenged.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m the one who had the huge bout of jealousy when Landon wanted to climb up after Clove. I’m also the one who had the big jolt of insecurity when I woke up in the bear cabin alone.”

  “You didn’t tell me about that,” Thistle said. “What did you think? Did you think Landon got up in the middle of the night and abandoned you?”

  My cheeks burned under Thistle’s studied gaze. “I … .”

  “Oh, this really is a cluster of crap,” Thistle said. “Everything we hate about ourselves is going to keep popping up. You hate that you still worry about Landon walking out again, so that’s exactly the first conclusion you jumped to when you woke up alone. Clove has a persecution complex, and she’s going to spend the next … however long we’re stuck here … thinking we’re talking behind her back. This is officially a nightmare.”

  “What do you hate about yourself?” Landon asked.

  “We’re not going to talk about that,” Thistle said. “We need to figure a way out of this before we all implode, though. If we’re not careful, we’re going to do a lot worse than we usually do when we start arguing.”

  “Speaking of nightmares, are we sure this isn’t a dream?” Clove asked. “Just because we’ve never messed with dream magic before, that doesn’t mean Aunt Tillie wouldn’t risk doing it now.”

  “She might,” I conceded. “That was one of the few rules she really drilled into us, though. I think it’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been giving that some thought,” I said, pushing my hair from my forehead and exhaling heavily. “I remembered something when Clove was in the tower. That’s how I knew her hair had to be cut off.”

  “What did you remember?”

  “Aunt Tillie’s Wonderful World of Stories to Make Little Girls Shut Up.”

  “What?” Landon sputtered, chuckling heartily.

  “What is that?” Sam asked.

  “Oh, no,” Thistle said. “You’re right. Oh, son of a … . That’s exactly what this is.”

  “I think I’m missing something,” Clove said. “What are you guys talking about?”

  “It’s the book she used to read to us when our mothers put her in charge of our bedtime stories,” I reminded her. “Mom always told her to read fairy tales and children’s books to us after she caught her reading that V.C. Andrews book in our bedroom one night and almost had an aneurysm.”

  “That was the incest book, right?”

  “That you remember,” Thistle muttered. “You don’t remember Aunt Tillie’s Wonderful World of Stories to Make Little Girls Shut Up, but you remember the really creepy attic sex between a brother and a sister. Nice.”

  “The only reason I remember it is because they had those movies on Lifetime a few months ago,” Clove replied, defensively. “I’m not some creepy pervert.” She glanced at Sam for support. “I’m not.”

  “I don’t care how perverted you are,” Sam said. “Tell me more about this book Aunt Tillie read to you guys.”

  “Once she was caught reading that book our mothers made her promise she would read us only fairy tales before bed,” I said. “The problem is, Aunt Tillie doesn’t like fairy tales. She thinks they’re stupid.”

  “They are stupid,” Landon said.

  “They’ve survived and thrived for a reason,” I said. “Most of them have little lessons wrapped in pretty stories about fairies and princesses and talking bears. Aunt Tillie never liked them, though.”

  “She took the traditional stories and altered them,” Thistle said. “She even created a book so she would have something to read when she was stuck with bed
time duty. I’ll bet you she cursed us into that book. We’re not asleep. We’re in the book.”

  “Altered them how?”

  “She put her own spin on them,” I said.

  Clove clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh. I’m remembering them. The Rapunzel one had something to do with cutting your own hair off instead of waiting around for a prince to save you. She said only someone truly pathetic would spend years in a tower when she could get herself out.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “The moral of the three bears in the house wasn’t that they offered comfort to a stranger. It was that you were supposed to remember not to touch other people’s property. If I had stayed in the cabin any longer, the bears would have tried to eat me if I touched any of their stuff in front of them. I got lucky. I was too afraid to touch anything.”

  “What about the mermaid?” Landon asked.

  “Aunt Tillie was convinced that anyone who swam around with a seashell bra had to be loose,” Thistle said. “I think that one was pretty self-explanatory.”

  “What about the turtle?” Landon pressed.

  “I don’t remember that one,” Thistle said.

  “It obviously had something to do with having faith,” I said. “I can’t remember that one either.”

  “What other stories are we looking at here?” Sam asked, worried.

  “She made up a new one every night,” I said. “I can’t remember all of them, but I know some were all takes on the classics, while others were figments of her imagination.”

  “I remember Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty – but mostly because those were my favorite stories,” Clove said.

  “You always did like the ones where the heroine danced and sang,” I said. “I forgot that about you.”

  “I remember the Wonderland one,” Thistle said. “I always loved that story and Aunt Tillie completely ruined it for me. All that talk of creepy tea parties and talking rabbits. I’m still terrified of that bunny they trot out at the mall every Easter to take photos with the kids.”

  “What was the point of the Pinocchio one?” Sam asked. “Why was the dude in the store so creepy?”

  “Aunt Tillie said anyone who spent all his time whittling wood and dreaming about little boys wasn’t really father material,” Clove said. “I remember that one. I’ve been afraid of puppets ever since.”