Mrs. Beast by Pamela Ditchoff

Author:Pamela Ditchoff
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Stay Thirsty Press - a Division of Stay Thirsty Media, Inc.
Published: 2009-03-21T13:00:00+00:00

* * *

Beauty jolts from sleep and scans the indoor pavilion for the pint-sized Gargoyle whose ravenous eyes kept her alert and writing in her diary until 2AM. There's not a soul in sight, but one compartment is secluded by lowered netting. A flutter of movement behind the pink curtain prompts Beauty to cough delicately, hoping to draw attention without being obvious.

"You're awake! Come in."

Beauty recognizes the voice as Scheherazade's. She draws the curtain aside to discover the girl writing in the red vellum diary. Her mind forms the words, That's mine! She doesn't speak them because fairy tale beauties are extremely polite and because she remembers Snow White's red lips spewing similar words. Scheherazade's a child, and it's not Beauty's responsibility to scold her. "Where is your mother?" she asks.

"I don't know," Scheherazade replies and continues writing.

"May I ask why you're writing in my diary?"

"Gosh, is this your diary? I didn't read it, cross my heart." She draws an X over her slender chest. "I couldn't find any other paper. I'm writing a note to you from Mother. There, I'm finished." Scheherazade jumps up and hands the book to Beauty.

Beauty's heart skips. What catastrophe had caused Rapunzel to depart in such haste she couldn't stop to write a note? She scowls at the open page, trying to decipher the flourishes of ink. "I can't read this," she says and notices a stack of paper on the third shelf of Scheherazade's bookcase.

"Silly me. I always write in Arabic."

"Are you certain she didn't write a note?" Beauty asks fretfully.

"Yes. I know this for a fact because Mother can't write. She could learn if she wanted to. Some of her friends have been our teachers: poets, artists, musicians, dancers, and scholars." Scheherazade places a silver-ringed finger on the page and reads aloud: “Beauty, I have gone to exchange the changeling for baby Kurt. Please watch the twins. Thanks. Rapunzel.”

"Food's here!" Omar shouts, dashing in from outside, arms laden with loaves of bread, links of sausages, and a basket of strawberries.

Beauty can't move; her legs feel as if they're rooted to the ground. The twins stand at the hearth, stuffing their mouths with berries. Rapunzel said she wanted to be my friend . . . some friend! I should be on my way to Elora's . . . to get my Beast back . . . I've never taken care of children . . . they're teasing, playing a game . . . the mirror . . . She quietly draws the mirror from her satchel and whispers:

"Magic mirror, I'm all a jitter,

left here as a baby-sitter,

in one way or in another,

please locate these

children's mother."

An image appears and Beauty blinks her eyes three times. She can't make sense of the picture she's seeing or the words she's hearing.

"Che fica!" A masculine voice growls breathlessly from the mirror.

"Ich komme!" A female voice answers.

Beauty recognizes the voice as Rapunzel's, and she also knows the meaning of her words she had heard the dwarf children shout

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