by Deirdra Eden
Jacquine took me down a long flight of stairs, until we came to a doorway with steam billowing between the cracks. We entered, and Jacquine called out, “Maryweather!”
Out of the warm mist stepped a large woman with a round face and big, brown eyes. A cloth was wrapped around her head and covered her hair. Her expression was stern, but somehow, her apple cheeks made it seem like she was smiling.
“Maryweather, this is Auriella. She has come to stay with us. I am making the lass some new clothes, but, before I will let her wear them, she needs to be clean.”
Maryweather put her hands on her hefty hips and looked at me, shaking her head. “Well, we’ll have ta find a way ta scrub all that dirt off her face.”
“I will leave her in your care so I can begin my sewing.” Jacquine turned and left me alone with this new stranger.
Some of the other maids stopped doing the laundry. They giggled and pointed. “Hey! Maryweather, what a ragamuffin of a lass you have there,” one of the maids called in a ribbing tone. “Do you expect to get all that dirt off the girl?”
“I don’t think she has ever had a bath in her life!” another put in.
“We better get ta work. It’s gonna take some hard scrubbin’ ta get all the filth off you before dinner.” Maryweather scrutinized me with critical eyes. She didn’t dote over me like everyone else had. It was as if she could see into my soul and pull out my secrets. Perhaps she already knew I was a fraud. I couldn’t fool everyone.
Taking me by the hand, Maryweather led me behind a thin curtain to a small pool of water. It was the perfect place to try and drown me to see if I was a witch. Steam rose from the water and bubbles floated across the surface. Bubbles in water meant it was scalding hot.
“Get in,” Maryweather commanded, as if I didn’t have a choice.
It was true. She thought I was a witch and wanted to boil me! Someone from my old village must have recognized me and told her about my power. I recoiled toward the exit.
Maryweather’s firm grip clenched onto my wrist. I tried to pull away, but Maryweather held on tighter. “I don’t think so.” Maryweather’s face turned red. “You’re not leaving now.”
“No!” I screamed. “I’m human! You’re making a mistake.” I turned and bolted for the door. I tried to create my fire so I could protect myself, but nothing came. What a time for my power to leave. Maybe I used up the last of the fire when I fought the wolves.
Two laundry maids blocked the door. I tried to shove past them to the stairwell.
“She’s savage,” one of them gasped.
What were they talking about? I wasn’t savage. I just wanted to live.
Maryweather grabbed hold of my arm and dragged me toward the hot water.
I screamed. My voice came out high-pitched and panicky. I fought to free myself from the massive woman’s grip.
Maryweather called, “Emilie, Doris, Eliza, I need your help!”
Three more women jumped me from behind. Each grabbed a leg or arm and held on.
“I’m not a witch!” I howled and kicked. They carried me to the pool and tossed me in, clothes and all. I fought for my life as I sank to the bottom. Crystal-blue water swirled around me as I struggled toward the surface. I swallowed some water and resisted the urge to gasp, realizing I would just inhale more liquid. In the water, I was more vulnerable than in the jaws of a wolf. There was no light, no air, and no ability to heal or protect myself with fire.
The pool was only three feet deep, but I seemed to sink forever before I felt the bottom and stood erect. I sprang to the surface, coughing and gasping for breath. I slapped against the warm water and fought to get to the edge.
“Ladies, do not let her out of the water!”
They surrounded the pool, and every time I came close to the edge, they pushed me into the middle.
“This will never do!” Emilie shook her head. “She will never get clean this way. Here, let me get into the pool with the poor lass and show her how to clean herself.” Emilie took off her overdress and got in with me.
I stopped fighting and watched Emilie wade into the water. I popped a bubble floating across the surface. “It’s soap,” I realized out loud. They weren’t trying to kill me. My body adjusted to the warm water, and the heat actually felt nice.
“Yes, it’s soap. And you’re going to need lots of it,” Maryweather said. “Haven’t you ever bathed before?” From the side of the pool, she tossed Emilie a bar of soap.
“Of course I have! I just haven’t taken a swim while washing before,” I trailed off, feeling foolish as the women laughed in an uproar.
Emilie smiled and lifted the cream-colored bar. “Now, I don’t know what savage raised you, but you need to learn to clean yourself. Watch me clean myself with this soap.” She rubbed it on her arm, creating a lather of white bubbles, then slipped her arm into the pool and rinsed it off. The lather dissolved and she brought her arm out of the water. I couldn’t see any difference between Emilie’s clean arm and her dirty arm.
“Now lass, you’re not going to get out of this pool of water until you’re clean.” Emilie’s voice held a stiff warning. She dropped the bar of soap in my palm.
I narrowed my eyes and scrubbed at my arm. Of course I would show them I could clean myself. This was no different than cleaning Hazella’s pots, but, unlike the pots, I wasn’t Hazella’s property anymore, and I didn’t want any of Hazella’s dirt on me. I scrubbed harder, as if trying to scrub bad memories of Hazella away.
Dirty, brown lather foamed under the bar of soap on my skin. I slid my arm into the pool and scrubbed some more. I pulled my arm out of the water and stared at my skin. Stripped of the dirt, my left arm glowed like pure ivory.
The maids on the side of the pool let down their guard. They looked relieved and not as vicious as they had before. Even Emilie looked more relaxed, “Now, off with your clothes so you can clean your whole body.”
I peeled off my old nightgown and handed it to one of the maids.
The maid took the nightgown to Maryweather and whispered, “What should I do with this?” Maryweather wrinkled her nose, frowned, and pointed to large fireplace in the corner of the room.
I rubbed myself with the bar of soap many times, as streams of muddy water trickled off me. Emilie helped me clean my feet. I jerked away, giggled, then slipped under the water and allowed myself to float. It almost felt like flying through warm clouds and soft wind. Fully immersed, I felt like I was washing away the old me who was filthy, uneducated, and afraid, then resurfacing a clean, bright lady who could take on the world.
Emilie interrupted my reverie. “You need to wash your hair now.” I had never washed my hair like this before and didn’t know what to do. Seeing my confusion, she said, “Come here and let me help you.”
I waited while Emilie lathered my ravaged hair and rinsed it in the water. We washed my hair not only once, but a half a dozen times. “Oh, I will never ever get this hair untangled!” Emilie declared, “It is all matted into a knotted mess! We are going to need a comb and shears to make your hair look better.”
“Cut my hair?” I asked. I forced myself to be calm. I’d overreacted too many times already. “All right,” I agreed.
Maryweather handed towels to Emilie and me as we stepped out of the pool of water. Emilie retrieved some shears and a comb, then worked over my hair. Emilie pulled at my hair, trying to separate the locks with the comb. She had to cut out a lot of the tangles. I gritted my teeth every time Emilie pulled at my hair and each time a lock of red hair fell to the floor.
Emilie gasped and dropped her arms to her side. “Oh, no!”
“What is it?” I asked. Obviously, from Emilie’s startled reaction, something was afoot. This couldn’t be good.
It seemed like an eternal moment of wondering what abnormality Emilie found before she answered. “You have some little bugs crawling around in your hair. I will have to cut it short so all the bugs will go away. You will need to wash and comb your hair every day
for the next few months.”
I hated Hazella’s dirt on me. I was even more horrified that Hazella’s bugs had made a nest of my hair.
After an hour of combing and cutting, Emilie finally finished. I looked like a new person. Only about two inches of curly hair remained on my head. My milky white skin contrasted the brownish dirt color that previously covered me.
The laundry maids draped a long nightgown over my thin, clean body. Emilie escorted me to my room. At the door, Emilie bid me a good evening before departing.
When I entered my bedroom, Ruburt and Cassi were there. They looked like they had been waiting for me. Ruburt smiled. “You look different.”
“I know. I’m clean, and my fire curse is gone,” I said, thinking about how I had used the last of it up on the wolves. “I really am human!” I drifted toward the glass window to see my reflection. The sunlight touched me. The colors of lavender, gold, jade, and rose shimmered iridescently off my skin. I jerked my arm out of the light.
“What’s wrong?” Cassi asked.
“Can you see this?” I pointed at my arm.
Ruburt came near and examined my arm. “I don’t see anything.”
I stepped into the sunlight streaking through the window. Light reflected off my arm and shimmered like the fairy kingdom.
“I don’t see what you’re talking about.” Ruburt lifted one eyebrow. Cassi shrugged her shoulders.
“I look like an overgrown fairy!” I couldn’t live in Oswestry like this. Everyone would know something was wrong with me. I put my hand to my forehead. I was doomed to life as a hermit—like Hazella.
Ruburt pulled a small inspecting glass from his goldsmith bag and held it to my skin. I rolled my eyes. Was he just trying to make me feel better?
“Your skin is glistening. It looks like you’re made of opals.”
I pulled my arm away and dropped onto my bed. “What is wrong with me?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. No one is going to notice unless they get close to you in the sunlight.”
The door flew open. Cassi dove into Ruburt’s beard. Three cooks entered the room, carrying a large tray of apple cobbler. Four maids followed the cooks, and they smiled and curtsied when they entered. The charade was over and I was in trouble. They were bound to notice me, sparkling like an opal fairy now that I’d scrubbed all the dirt off.
One of the cooks set the cobbler on the table next to my bed. “Just look at her!”
I clenched my nightgown in my fists and tightened my jaw.
“You can see the lass’s face, now that all the dirt is gone.”
“The lass is prettier than a bright red apple!” another cook commented.
While the cooks examined me, the four maids tore the old linens from my bed and replaced them, topping the bed with fresh new pillows and a warm quilt.
“Oh dearie, if you are still hungry after you have eaten this food, come to the kitchen, and we’ll make you a snack.”
The cooks and maids hadn’t said anything yet about my appearance. Could they not see I was a monster?
Ruburt gazed at the apple cobbler like there was nothing to worry about. Cassi peered out through Ruburt’s beard where she hid and licked her lips.
“Thank you.” I tried to curtsy like the maids had done. My legs shook awkwardly. Maybe Ruburt was right and I could get away with yet another abnormality. If the fire came back it would be easy to hide and if no one but me could see my strange skin, then I could be normal.
The cooks and maids curtsied in return and left us to enjoy dessert.
As soon as they were gone, Cassi flew full speed toward the food, spinning and flipping in somersaults through the air. “Cassi could eat a whole Skipobottomoss!” She grasped several handfuls of food and gobbled it in big bites.
“A Skipobottomoss?” Ruburt raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What in the world is a Skipo….”
Cassi started to answer, but Ruburt shook his head to cut her off. “I don’t want to know,” he said, before he piled food onto his plate and started to eat.
I was hungry, too, but I couldn’t quit looking at my skin.
“They didn’t see it,” I sighed in relief.
“See what?” Ruburt asked with a full mouth.
I shook my head. He was too preoccupied by the dessert.
“Nothing, I guess.” Maybe I could fit in, and why not? After all, I was human.
My door swung open. “Good morning!” Jacquine sang out and pulled back the curtains. Blinding rays of sunlight flashed into the room. I tossed the blankets over my head. I wasn't used to this much light and had no idea if my skin was still acting strange.
“Come now, it’s time to rise. Your clothes are finished.”
I peered out from behind the quilt. Jacquine placed several dresses at the foot of the bed.
She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head as she eyed me. “Oh, I know what you’re hiding.”
She did? Did Jacquine know about my strange fairy-like skin?
“Don’t worry, your hair will grow back soon enough." Jacquine lifted a pretty, blue dress. "Let me help you get dressed.”
I lowered the blanket. Obviously, Jacquine couldn’t see the abnormal skin either. I brushed my arm, then lifted my nightgown and stared at my glittering legs. Apparently, I was the only one who noticed this new change.
I moved slowly, keeping my head down, but I couldn’t resist reaching out and touching the clean, crisp fabric of the new dress. “You made this for me?”
“Yes. All for you.” Jacquine tossed the dress over my head and tightened the laces on the gown. I squirmed back and forth, trying to get used to the feel of clothes that actually fit.
"Now, a surprise." Jacquine held her hands behind her. “We had a cobbler make something special for you.” Jacquine pulled a pair of brown leather slippers from behind her back. “What do you think?”
“Shoes!” I gasped. “I can’t believe it. They’re beautiful. Are you sure?” I reached for the dainty-looking slippers, but stepped away. “I can’t.”
“Just put them on,” Jacquine insisted.
She set them on the floor by my feet. I hesitated before slipping them on. I wiggled my toes against the cushiony surface and felt like dancing and running. I couldn’t help but giggle.
I stretched out my arms and spun around to show the entire ensemble, then threw my arms around Jacquine. “Thank you. This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”
Jacquine’s eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh dearie, it was my pleasure.” She stepped back to admire the dress on me. “It's perfect and just in time. Lady Hannah would like to meet you after breakfast.”
I was excited, but nervous to meet Lady Hannah. I quickly ate then followed an escort down a long mahogany hallway to Lady Hannah’s room.
When I entered Lady Hannah’s chambers the escort shut the heavy polished door and the brass handle clicked behind her. I squinted to examine the intimidating, dim room. The windows were covered in dark navy curtains. The only light came from an oil lamp at Lady Hannah’s bedside. The noblewoman sat in her bed with pillows propped behind her. Her gray hair was tucked into a nightcap, and her face was scarred with lines of age. Lady Hannah looked more fragile than a dried flower petal. In a weak, but stern voice, Lady Hannah commanded, “Come here.”
I stepped near the bed and smiled my prettiest smile.
Lady Hannah lifted a magnifying glass and examined me from head to toe. I froze in place. At least the curtains were drawn, blocking out the sunlight that would reveal my unusual skin under the magnifying glass. I stood tall and wondered if I should speak, curtsey, or try to do something to impress Lady Hannah.
