The Further Adventures of Gaston

As he plummetted into the chasm, the wind of his fall roaring in his ears, Gaston knew with absolute certainty that he was about to die, and asked himself why he hadn't stabbed the Beast from a more secure position. Before he could form an answer he felt a tremendous jolt, and thought that was that.

However, after a moment he realised that cold air was still rushing past his face, although less rapidly and harshly than before. He did not appear to be smashed to a pulp, but his belt was almost cutting him in two. He realised his eyes were screwed shut, and cautiously opened one. This afforded him an extremely unsettling view of the rocky landscape below. However, the rocky landscape below was not actually rushing towards him. He risked looking up, and gaped in astonishment.

Grasping his belt, and carrying him through the air, surely by magic, was a jaw-droppingly beautiful lady. If he hadn't been fairly sure she was dead, he would have thought it was Diane de Poitiers (whom he remembered chiefly because there had been a handsome coloured picture of her in the village school's shared history book). Her golden hair and green gown swirled around her in clouds of glory, and she gazed ahead with great serenity and purpose.

I'm saved, he thought with an inexpressible rush of relief. I must have a guardian angel, or a fairy godmother, and she's saving me from certain death. Everything is going to be fine. I needn't have worried. Of course I wouldn't die like that!

He attempted to utter a gracious merci, madame, but found that being carried by his belt did not allow him quite enough breath for speech. In fact, trying made him feel a bit sick and faint. As he lapsed into unconsciousness, he was vaguely aware of the distant pop of fireworks.

Birds were twittering and there was grass and earth under his face. Something heavy thumped onto his back and knocked the wind out of him.

'Gaston! Stir yourself, you miserable worm!' The voice was high and imperious. The object on his back was squirming and exclaiming, and as he pushed himself up with both arms and gasped for air, he realised it was Le Fou, who fell to the ground beside him and wailed wretchedly. Who in the world would call him a miserable worm?

He looked up, finding they were in a forest clearing, and saw the flying woman, standing with her fists on her hips and a face like thunder.

'Wuh? Wah?'

'Don't try to appease me. You disgust me! You almost ruined the denouement of a very complex redemptive curse. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to bring that off? Bah!' She kicked him in the shoulder, and although her foot looked small and delicate, it really hurt.

'Madame, I have no idea what you're talking about! I was disposing of a dangerous monster,' Gaston blustered. 'I'm a hero! Ask anyone!'

'He is!' Le Fou put in vehemently, nodding until his head blurred. 'Gaston is the biggest hero our town has ever had!'

'Shut up. You're an idiot.' The woman pointed one long finger at Le Fou and his lower lip wrapped itself over his nose. He blinked and swivelled his eyes madly, but seemed unable to move.

'Of course he is, but he's right.' Gaston smoothed back his hair and gave the woman his best disarming smile. 'I am very well regarded in the community, and can provide extensive character references.' He got up on one knee and attempted to kiss her hand, and was slapped so hard his ears rang.

'You are a brute and a bully and - and I hate to waste a good curse once I've thought of it, so take that!' She flung both her hands at him as if throwing a large ball, and although there was nothing to be seen, he felt something hot hit him squarely between the eyes, snapping his head back and dropping him on the turf. He was unable to move and every muscle in his body was suddenly gripped with the most painful cramping.

'As your heart is beastly, so shall be your form!' the woman cried out. 'As I will, so mote it be!'

'Can't we discuss this?' Gaston yelped, and then screamed as he felt the shape of his bones changing. His spine seemed to lengthen and shoot out of his backside. His knees, he was sure, were turned back to front. His nose attempted to surge ahead of the rest of his face and new teeth erupted from his jaws. Something terrible was happening to his fingernails. His screams became howls, then roars. He was vaguely aware of someone else squalling nearby, but had little attention to spare for them. Finally, the worst of the pain stopped, leaving him stinging all over, and he collapsed on the ground.

He lay with his cheek on the grass, panting, and was alarmed to see that some sort of wild animal's forepaw was lying just before his eyes. It was covered in thick black fur and had weirdly long, finger-like toes, each tipped with a sharp brown claw. He reached out to push it away and it moved away from him on its own. He drew his hand back and it came back. He pushed it away again and it moved away again.

He couldn't see his own hand.

It took him a moment, but he screamed in horrified realisation. What came out of his mouth was a roar like a lion's, which frightened him so badly he screamed again and wet his pants slightly. He scrabbled his way to his feet, tearing up the turf with his claws, fell on his backside and hurt his tail.

'What have you done to me?' Gaston wailed.

'And to meeeee?' blubbered his trophy hunting bag, which for some reason was lying where LeFou had been and flailing its corners like four stubby legs.

'It suits you,' the woman said, smirking cruelly. 'Know that you have fallen afoul of a powerful enchantress. You shall remain in this form until you have redeemed yourself - if, that is, you can redeem yourself in time.' She reached out and touched the top of Gaston's head in two spots, where two hot prongs of pain immediately erupted.

'You'll like this,' the enchantress said. 'I've given you antlers! You'll need to scrape the velvet off, but you'll get used to that.' She took hold of the antlers and waggled his head from side to side as he gaped at her in horrified astonishement. 'Now, each antler just has one point to begin with. In a year's time, you'll shed them and grow new ones with two points, and so on. If, by the time you shed your ten-point rack of antlers, you have not redeemed yourself, then you will remain a beast for the rest of your life.' She let go of the antlers and patted him rather hard on the head.

'No! Please, no. I'm sorry! I apologise! You have no idea how sorry I am!' Gaston fell on his face and did his best to grovel at her feet; he had never grovelled before, but had a clear idea of how it was done from watching others.

'Gaston, I'll remove the curse and restore your human form if you can tell me clearly what you're apologising for.' The enchantress plucked her skirts away from his clutching paws.

'I... er... I made you angry?' Gaston ventured.

'Typical.' The enchantress rolled her eyes upward and tossed her head. 'Well, I've finished here for the day. If you'll excuse me, I have a lot to do.' She flourished a wand and disappeared.

'Wait! Wait! How do I redeem myself? You didn't say how to redeem myself! Do I go to confession or what?'

The enchantress reappeared. 'Oh. Didn't I say? True love. That's usually it.' She disappeared again, with an air of finality. Silence fell in the glade, relieved only by muffled grunts from the trophy bag, which was trying to roll itself over. After a moment, Gaston gave it a helping nudge, and found that its other side had grown a face quite reminiscent of Le Fou's.

'Thank you!' said Le Fou, and lay there panting for a while as Gaston collected his thoughts. This did not take long, as they were few and chiefly very bewildered and indignant.

'How dare she?' he bellowed, and uprooted a small tree which he hurled like a javelin into the underbrush.

'Well, she's a powerful enchantress. I think they pretty much just do what they want,' Le Fou offered. He managed to push himself up on his corners and waddled around in a circle. 'But it doesn't matter anyway, does it?'

'What do you mean, it doesn't matter? Look at me! I'm deformed!' Gaston clawed at his face, then realised he didn't know exactly what it looked like. 'A mirror! Where's a mirror?'

'Right here!' Le Fou quickly pulled a small square looking-glass from within himself, and helpfully, also offered a comb.

'Thank you, Le Fou - you idiot.' Gaston threw the mirror and comb at his head. 'This is too small. Find me a pool.'

It was the work of a few minutes to locate one with a suitably reflective calm surface. Gaston reflected, with some satisfaction, that he did at least know the local forest like the back of his hand. Matters would have been much worse if he were dropped somewhere totally unfamiliar. Crouching on the bank, he held his breath, closed his eyes, leaned out and very carefully opened one eye. The most horrendous creature squinted back at him, a hulking beast-man with a head that suggested a wolf from some angles, a boar from others, and a hasty retreat from anyone encountering it. His juvenile antlers looked small and stupid, and he picked fretfully at the velvet covering, which was not quite ready to come off.

'I don't know, I think you can make it work,' Le Fou remarked, peering over his shoulder, having clambered up his massive ridged back. He did not seem particularly distressed by his own transformation, but then, Gaston reflected, he was never much to look at and was always sort of bag-shaped. 'You've still got great bone structure.'

'I've got tusks,' Gaston mumbled, and tears dribbled down his cheeks, making wet tracks in the black fur.

'Strong white tusks!' Le Fou pointed out optimistically. He patted Gaston's shoulder reassuringly. 'There there! Courage!'

'What do you mean, it doesn't matter?' Gaston asked, sniffing back the watery snot of despair.

'What?' LeFou paused in his efforts to comb the thicker hair between Gaston's antlers into a pompadour.

'Before, you said that the curse doesn't really matter. I know you say a lot of imbecilic things, but what did you mean by that?'

'Oh! Well, that's easy. Gosh, it doesn't take a smart guy like you to figure that out! You can get rid of the curse any time. Tons of people love you! Why, I love you, you know that!' He hugged Gaston's bullish neck with his floppy bag-body.

'We agreed not to talk about that,' Gaston muttered. 'And it's not helping.' He flopped down on his front and blew the failed pompadour out of his eyes.

'Well, I guess it can't, since I'm under the curse too. That'd cancel it out.' Le Fou considered it a little, combing as he thought.

'Scratch behind my ear,' Gaston grumbled. 'So you can't do anything. In that case...' He sprang to his feet, not particularly noticing that he was on all fours, and almost dumping Le Fou in the water. 'Well, of course! True love! This will be one of those spells broken with a kiss! It's obvious! And I know exactly where to get one.'

With Le Fou clinging to his shoulders, he raced through the forest towards the outskirts of the little town. Here it became necessary to sneak and slink through outlying fields and gardens, which was not easy at his current size, even larger than he was used to. He thought he might top seven feet if he stood fully upright. After a few near brushes with discovery - although many of the people he saw on his way appeared somewhat bruised, battered and unwilling to stick their necks out this morning - finally he made his hide in the trees at the bottom of one particular garden, and caught his breath. At length, a pretty young woman with blonde hair came out of the house with a basket of damp laundry, which she carried down to the clothesline strung across the rear of the lawn and began to hang up.

'There she is,' Gaston whispered to Le Fou, finding that even his whispers were alarming rumbles. 'What's her name again? Annette, Janette or Nanette?'

'I think it's Janette,' Le Fou whispered back. 'Janette's the one who parts her hair in the middle, right?'

'Either way, I know she's in love with me,' Gaston replied. 'I mean all three of them are. So this should be easy. Go in, explain, get kiss, break curse. I'm not missing anything, am I?'

'Nope, sounds good to me.'

'Am I wearing pants? In all the excitement, I lost track. Oh, good.'

'You might have to marry her,' Le Fou said warningly.

'Well, she's a respectable second prize, and at least she's not a raving lunatic.'

'I have to say, Gaston, I think you dodged a bullet with that Belle.'

'I'll say.' They rolled their eyes in commiseration. 'Here goes.' He smoothed back his hair with a paw and stepped forth from the foliage. 'Janette!'

Janette turned, screamed, jumped backwards and fell into her laundry basket. Gaston hurried over to lift her out and was kicked in the snout for his trouble.

'Damn it, Janette, stop fighting, I'm not trying to hurt you.' He managed to hold her up by the back of her dress and direct her swinging fists and feet away from himself.

'Beast! Monster! Demon!' Janette yelled, squirming like an eel.

'I'm not a monster, I'm Gaston!' he protested. 'I mean, I'm Gaston inside.'

'You ate Gaston!' the girl shrilled, and managed to swarm up his arm and bite him quite painfully.

'Ouch! Stop that! Will you just listen to me? I am Gaston. I'm under a spell. Only true love - ow!' With a final mighty kick, Janette broke free and ran up the garden path, shrieking to her parents about cannibal monsters, a plague of beasts, the end of the world, leaving him winded under a pile of damp sheets. Recalling that Janette's father was a gunsmith and almost as good a shot as he, Gaston decided that perhaps he was looking for love in the wrong place, and beat a hasty retreat through the fields back to the forest, trailing laundry and Le Fou.

'Well, that was unexpected,' Le Fou said, wrapping a bandage around the bite wound. He seemed to have an assortment of useful objects stashed in his bag-belly. 'Do you want to try Annette's place next?' Gaston threw him into a bush.

'All right,' he continued, clambering out and returning to his task, 'so those girls are no good. Dumb blondes. Who needs 'em. We'll find someone else to love you! How about the baker's daughter? She always gave you free croissants.'

'She's cross-eyed!' Gaston said indignantly. 'What are you saying, that I should lower my standards?'

'Well, if it gets the job done...'

'Shut up.' Gaston slumped wearily onto his side and exhaled a great sigh. 'It's no good. Even cross-eyed Mademoiselle Boulanger wouldn't want me in this condition. I'm a monster. A freak from a menagerie. Nobody will ever, ever love me.'

'I love you.' Le Fou bobbed up in front of his face, smiling loyally.

'You don't count!' Gaston rolled over and brooded heavily. 'My life is ruined.'

'It doesn't have to be...' Le Fou said. 'I mean... that other beast, it seemed like he was doing all right with Belle...'

'Well, some beasts are lucky enough to have huge palaces to impress girls with! What do I have? Torn pants!'

'I can mend those.' Le Fou proudly produced a needle and thread.

'Don't bother. What's the use.' Vast tears trickled from his eyes and, as he lay on his side, ran into his nose and made him sneeze. The watery snot of despair was reasserting itself.

'Well, if you let yourself go...' Le Fou muttered, and began mending the rip over his knee regardless. Gaston lay and moped until he fell asleep.

TO BE CONTINUED.