Beauty's Daughter
Not everyone recognizes how hard a Godmother works
The last thing the Godmother wanted to hear was the banging on her door. She'd been up all night at Farmer Cotton's attending his wife. The birth had been hard on the woman. "That baby was born to be trouble," the Godmother knew. She'd turned him right way round and then before the next contraction he'd gone and turned back. She'd had to use the forceps and people like the Farmer always crossed their legs and looked faint when they saw the tools of her trade.
Why he felt he had to be in the room when the baby was born was a mystery to the Godmother. She longed for the good old days when men stayed outside the birthing room and paced with the other men. As it was, she had spent twenty minutes explaining to the man that, "Yes, using tools was not 'natural childbirth' and as soon as he squeezed a watermelon out of his man part, he could tell her how to do her job." The only reason she allowed men in the birthing room was so they could see what the pain of childbirth did to the poor wife and maybe think twice before having another one. She'd got to get herself an apprentice soon, she scolded herself, she was getting too old for these long nights.
The world was changing so quickly. Tonight Farmer Cotton had driven her home in a motor car. She remembered the outcry when they first appeared. Farmers had tried to have them banned because they scared the livestock and left soot pollution on the crops. Now everyone had one and some even had two. While she appreciated the ride home, she'd held the door handle with both hands the entire way as she was convinced anything that moved that fast would eventually stop that fast and she was going to be flung out onto the road. No thank you, she'd let the younger generation have their electricity, motor cars and machines. She preferred her slow, silent way of life. It'd been good enough for the first seven decades of her life and she was sure it'd be good enough until the Goddess called her home.
The banging increased in volume as the Godmother forced herself to her feet and hobbled over to the door. "Someone using the front door?" she wondered. "Must be a stranger." People in the mountains never used the front door unless it was for funerals or weddings. Everyone else knew to go round back by the woodpile.
Kicking the cat out of the way, Godmother hauled the front door open. There she found a teenaged girl with her arm still raised in a fist to knock. One glance told the Godmother everything she needed to know about the child. The girl was short and stocky. Wearing black tights, a t-shirt with a skull and roses, black boots, six earrings in her ears and was that a stud in her eyebrow? How bored did you have to be to pierce that? Thick charcoal outlined the girls eyes making her look like a rabid raccoon. "Good hair, though, thick and long, shiny" thought Godmother, "too bad it's green."
Godmother pulled herself up straight and glared at the girl. The girl wasn't daunted though. She scowled at the old woman and snarled, "Are you the Hedge-witch? I have a bone to pick with you!"
"I am the Godmother of these parts yes," the old woman answered in a voice as cold as ice. "I am not a Hedge-witch. Do you see any dream catchers or crystals hanging from my windows child?" The Godmother sniffed. "Hedge-witchery is for silly little girls who think you can buy magic in pretty little trinkets. You won't catch me dancing around sky-clad in these woods. We got skeeters on steroids in these parts. What do you want?"
The girl looked confused for a moment working out, 'sky-clad' but she gathered her wits and bristling with righteous indignation she growled at the woman, "I want to know what gave you the right to curse my father! Who made you Goddess of all creation?"
That set the Godmother back. Cursed her father? She hadn't cursed anyone in years. The last one had been that vain young punk who'd refused to give her shelter from the storm. She smiled to herself. She was rather proud of that one. She'd made his outside match his inside. Last she'd heard he'd learned his lesson and broke the curse. He'd met a young girl, what was her name? Oh yeah, Beauty.
"You the Beast's daughter?" Godmother stepped back from the door and waved the girl in. "I'll put the tea on. You sit down and we'll talk." Godmother hobbled her way to the kettle on the hearth. She fished some newts out of the water barrel, filled the kettle and placed it on the iron hook over the fire.
"I don't want any tea thank you. I want an answer," stormed the girl as she made her way to the kitchen table. She yanked a chair out and thumped down into it. As she sprawled over the chair, legs out and arms crossed, the scowl on her face became a pout. The Godmother ignored her as she pulled the Brown Betty teapot out of the cupboard and started spooning tea into the tea-ball.
"Well you may not want tea but I've had a long night and I need a cuppa'." The Godmother was a firm believer in tea. When people came to her with troubles, the first thing she always did was put the kettle on. Others thought it was because a warm cup of anything always soothed frayed nerves but the Godmother used the time to marshal her thoughts and give the patient time to calm down.
She placed the teapot, milk and sugar on the table and creaked back to the wardrobe to get the spoons and cups. "Now, who are you and what's this all about?" she raised an eyebrow at the girl.
The girl straightened. "My name is Alyssa and this is about you cursing my father and turning him into a Beast!" the girl was almost shouting. "Do you know what you've done? My life is ruined and it's all your fault! I've been looking for you for years and now that I've found you I...I want to...Well I don't know what I want, I just want you to fix it!"
The Godmother groaned tiredly as she lowered herself into the other chair. "Well," she answered slowly, "It might be a bit easier to fix if I knew what needed fixing?" The kettle started whistling and the Godmother glared at the child. "These old bones ain't what they used to be. So if you don't mind, you can get the kettle and fill the pot thank you. Meanwhile you can tell me, calmly mind you, exactly what you think needs fixing. Last I heard, your father had turned back and was fine, even married your mother and is now the leading expert on manners and deportment. Wrote a book or something didn't he? Telling people how to dress and talk and such? Doesn't seem to be too bad of a fate?"
Alyssa rolled her eyes, "OMG, you really don't get it do you? Have you ever heard of DNA? It isn't what you did to my father that making me nuts. It's what you did to ME..." the last came out as a wail as Alyssa stormed over to the teapot and grabbed a towel to start pouring. The scent of the chamomile rose from the teapot as she poured. Alyssa sniffed as a tear started rolling down her cheek. In a watery voice and shaking hands she 'thunk-ed' the kettle on the counter and turned to the Godmother. "Can't you see what's wrong? Look at me!"
As the girl stomped over to the table and slammed down the teapot on the table, the Godmother gave her an appraising look. "Doesn't look like nothing's wrong with you that a bar of soap, some hair dye and maybe some fashion advice wouldn't fix. Taking those earring out might be a good idea too. That's a wrecking yard down the lane and I can see where the giant magnet truck might cause you problems."
Alyssa stopped for a moment with a blank look on her face. Then she seemed to gather her anger again and pointed a finger at the old woman. "Magnet truck? No look at me! Do you see this hair? Do you see how short and fat I am? Look at this nose! It's the nose of a beast and it's all your fault. Did it never occur to you old woman that to change someone into a beast you have to change their DNA? Haven't you ever heard of recessive genes? And my teeth! Look at these canines. I had to have to them ground down three times!"
The Godmother took a deep breath and reached for the teapot. She didn't answer right away as the girl jumped up and started pacing the cottage floor. "My parents are beautiful. My mother is tall, slim with skin like cream and honey and my father is a hunk and oozes nobility and charm. By all rights I should be tall and slim like them. I should have been born with blonde hair, glowing skin and perfect teeth and because of you old woman I look like a Rottweiler and I have the body of peasant grandmother! Now fix it!" The last was said with such force that the Godmother found herself leaning back away from the furious girl.
Gathering herself the Godmother sat up straight and her eyes narrowed. "Young lady, I see there is something we need to work out here but has it occurred to you that being rude to someone who can turn you into a frog might not exactly be the best idea? In fact, it was what got your father in this mess in the first place." She calmly added sugar to her cup, poured some tea and waited. She'd had a lot of experience with frantic people, in her line of work, every call brought her someone who needed to be calmed down before an emergency could be addressed. Frantic fathers of wives in labour, a mother with a sick child, they all expected her to wave a magic wand and make it better.
Beauty's daughter froze. The the fight seemed to leave her and she slumped back to take her seat. "Fine, she grumbled and began to pour tea into her cup.
"Now," Godmother cleared her throat, "Let's start at the beginning. You are saying that because I changed your father into a Beast-which I might add he rightly deserved-you have good hair, good teeth but you ain't pretty enough? I really don't see how this is my fault. I didn't put a spell on you but if you keep glaring at me like that I just might."
Alyssa lowered her gaze and sighed, "Look, when you changed my father's physical form, you changed his DNA. It's how you change someone. It's the building blocks in your genes that makes your body know to have brown or blonde hair, blue eyes and stuff and that gets passed on to your kids. Don't you know even the basics of biology? How do you change people into other things if you don't rewire their DNA?"
The Godmother sniffed. "I just do. I think of what I want them to look like and there's this kind of, 'push' in my head. Don't know about this DNA blather. Never went to school me. I was taught by Mother Freely and she was taught by Granny Carter and she was taught by her mother. Got no use for this Biology and Physic garbage. Home learning was good enough for me and it should be good enough for you young people. I know how my world works, I don't need no schoolmarm telling me I have to know the gross national output of Babaria. It's useless information and makes people unsettled." Godmother blew on her tea and took a careful sip.
Alyssa sat open-mouthed. "So you go around messing with people's genes and DNA and you don't even have the courtesy of knowing the consequences. Goddess! You are more arrogant than I thought. You don't even understand what you've done, do you? Because of you I have to buy shampoo that not only gives my hair a beautiful shine but gets rid of fleas and ticks too. Because of you I go through hours of hair removal a month or I get a beard that would make a dwarf envious. Because of you I have to buy my clothes in the BBW section of stores. Because of you..."
A look of anger came over the Godmother. The air seemed to crackle and spark around her head and Alyssa's rant stuttered to stop. One look at the Godmother and she knew if she didn't shut up, her next words might come out in a "Ribbit."
"So it's my fault that you are so unhappy with your looks? It's my fault that you have good hair, strong teeth and rude health? Bet you're strong too. Bet you've never had any trouble getting along with animals? Ever been sick a day in your short life?"
"Well no," answered Alyssa lowering her gaze. "I don't get sick. I spend a lot of time outside riding and helping out around the castle. The arms-men are teaching me how to fight cause old General Smithers says, 'Women who don't know how to fight with a sword will die on one one day.'" The girl seemed to gather her wits. "It's not the point. The point is who gave you the right to change my father in the first place? Who are you to judge who gets punished and who doesn't? Who made you judge and jury?"
Godmother took a moment to refill her teacup and think about what the girl had said. "The girl had a point," she thought, "Who had made it her duty to judge and punish or reward?" She'd never really thought about it. Taking a deep breath she tried to answer the girl honestly.
"Well as I see it. Everyone did. The village, the farmers, the castle, it's always been this way. There has always been a Godmother and it's her duty to take care of those around here. When people get sick they call me out. When some woman sports one too many bruises from walking into doors, it's my job to have a chat with the husband. Otherwise the people would have to take matters into their own hands and that means mob justice. Can't be having with mobs. They make rash decisions and since the average IQ of a mob is the IQ of it's dumbest member that usually means ropes, trees and no one able to look each other in the eye for a few years.
Godmothers been taking care of the people for long as folks can remember in these parts. It's just always been that way."
Alyssa stared at the Godmother. "But my father has a court for people to come and ask for Justice. He is the Lord in this land. It's his job to try criminals and mete out punishment. He is the Law."
Godmother gave Alyssa a stern look and her lips became a firm line. Her chin raised and in a terrible voice that held thunder and lightening she demanded, "And when the Lord of the Land is a criminal himself? When he forgets that he is a servant of the people and believes that privilege, money and arms equals right? When he loses his compassion and humanity? When he refuses an old woman shelter from the storm? When he sentences a starving man to hang for poaching deer to fill the hunger of the childrens bellies? Who then is to judge? Who then will make sure that people are fed and housed? Who will make sure that the children don't cry themselves to sleep with empty bellies and women can walk safely out of their houses?
You ask me what gave me the right to judge your father? Your father did! He forgot his place. He forgot that the reason he was a noble was to be noble. Did you know he raised taxes four times that year? Did you know that he had resurrected the right of, 'droit de seignior,'the right to first night? Do you even know what that means?
So you can complain all you want about what I did but I had the right to do it and if I had to do it again, I would. I'm sorry if you're unhappy with the way you look and I'm sorry you feel so hard done by but I did my duty. The duty passed to me by Mother Freely and duty I will pass on to my apprentice if I ever get around to finding one."
Alyssa deflated at the table. "Without the pout and the defiance she actually was a pretty girl," Godmother thought to herself. Get rid of the green hair and maybe wear some clothes with colour, she'd be downright attractive. Strong willed too," Godmother nodded to herself in approval. Must of taken some major courage to come to a known Godmothers house and confront her.
Alyssa seemed to be lost in her thoughts. Godmother pushed her chair back and went over to the cupboard to get some biscuits to give the girl time to think. As she returned to the table Alyssa looked up with something very close to despair in her face. "Does that mean you aren't going to change me back to what I was supposed to be? I'm stuck like this? Forever?"
Godmother felt sorry for the girl. Now that she really looked at the child she realized how young the girl actually was. It was the clothes and make-up that made her look so old and hard. "How old are you?" she asked.
"Fifteen." the answer came in a whisper.
"Hmph, fifteen. Hard time of life for a girl." godmother shrugged. "Ain't a child no more and ain't treated like an adult. Still growing but not fast enough to notice. Are you really so unhappy with the way you are? Did you not get the point of the story about your father. 'Beauty is as Beauty does.' Your strong and healthy and with a little care you would be downright attractive. Can't you be happy with that? What do you need to go changing for?"
Alyssa started sniffling again. "You wouldn't understand old woman. You've probably never been bullied or called names like 'Rotty' or had the boys laugh at you. You don't have a mother and father who are beautiful and seen the pitiful looks from people when they ask each other what could have happened to give such beautiful people such an ugly daughter. You've probably never sat on the sidelines at dances and balls watching the beautiful girls get asked over and over to dance by the boys while you try to become part of a wall." she grumbled.
Godmother was quiet. The girl was wrong. She did remember what is was like. She remembered a time before she was Godmother, when she was just plain Susan Jane Brown, going to the village barn dances and always being the one to be behind the refreshments table ladling out punch. She remembered looking on enviously as Ella Louise Carter wrapped all the boys around her finger with her giggles and blond hair, making Godmother feel too tall and thin and gangly. Ella Louise had a chest that was designed for having babies where Godmother's chest was often associated with fried eggs and boards that had never been nailed. She remembered the sleepless nights and fretful days when she tried to work up her courage to get John Mayhew to ask her to the fair. She also remembered the crushing humiliation when he'd laughed at her and called her "Stick girl" and gone off with his buddies to chase the prettier girls.
She wanted to be able to say something comforting to the girl in front of her but she also remembered the intense emotions of a teenager and how it hadn't mattered when Mother Freely had told her that looks didn't matter. Mother Freely had chosen her for an apprentice and now the Godmother was the most feared and respected woman in these parts. No one would dare laugh at her now. John Freely had gotten fat in his old age and now looked like an egg on sticks and Ella May had six children and looked like a sack of potatoes. None of that would have comforted her at fifteen so she didn't see how it could help the child in front of her.
"Well," Godmother stood up and took the cups to the washtub for washing. "I can see where you might feel that way. What's his name?"
Startled, Alyssa shot Godmother a questioning glance, "What's who's name?"
"The boy that makes you feel so ugly." Answered the Godmother with her back to the girl, "Seems to me a girl never worries about her looks until there's a boy in the picture."
Alyssa blushed. "Stephen."
"Yup, thought so." nodded the Godmother returning to the table. "This boy? He a nice boy? Handsome?"
"He's gorgeous," breathed Alyssa. "He's really tall and he's got muscles everywhere and he can ride anything on four legs." Alyssa's eyes began to glow with a fervour. "He's also the best at archery and the mace and he wields the longest sword." Alyssa didn't notice Godmother's choke of laughter.
Godmother hobbled back to the table and looked the girl in the eye. "But is he nice? Has he got a sense of humour? Is he smart? What's his chances for a good future for his wife and family when he has one?"
Alyssa looked startled, "I don't know." she stammered. In a mumble, making rings on the table with her finger. "I haven't really talked to him you see. He's really popular. Like, the most popular boy in the castle. He seems nice though. Everyone admires him."
Godmother nodded. Just as she'd thought. The girl didn't even know the boy and hadn't the confidence to try to get to know him. Defeated before she'd begun because she figured that he wouldn't even want to get to know her. It was a sad thing.
"Well," Godmother got up and began to clear the table. "I can't do anything for you girl. Until you learn to be happy with yourself and likes what you sees in the mirror, there's no reason anyone else should. I can't do miracles you know."
Alyssa jumped to her feet and the chair dropped to the floor. "What do you mean you can't do miracles? You do them all the time and you did it to my father." the scowl was back.
The Godmother gave her an appraising look. "No, what I did was magic. Magic only works if there is a reason for it to work. Your father needed to learn a lesson. I just helped it along. Where would the world be if Godmothers went around just changing things willy-nilly with no reason? Nope, I can't help you and you are just going to have to live with that. Now I've been up all night and I'm tired so you just toddle on home and take a good hard look at yourself in the mirror. There's nothing wrong with you and that's the end of the matter."
Godmother pulled the back door open for the girl and waved at her. "Go on."
Alyssa was speechless. She gave the Godmother one last despairing look and threw her hands up in the air. "Fine!" she stormed, "I'll find a real witch and get her to put it right, old woman. Who needs you?"
As Alyssa stormed down the path to the road the Godmother stood at the door looking after her and squinting. She looked for the aura around the girl. She was really surprised to find that other than the girls temporary anger shooting in red the girls aura was almost pure bright green. "Hmm," she thought, "Green aura means kind, smart, brave, compassionate and sensitive. Beneath the hard exterior the girl was really a nice child. There was no sense of black or blue in her aura which would have indicated a vain or evil person. There was no orange meaning the girl didn't have a selfish bone in her body.
Godmother left the door open and hobbled to the kitchen drawer. She pawed through the soup spoons and leftover screws and nails, the pieces of paper with scrabbled numbers and various notes to herself. Deep in the back of the drawer her hand wrapped around her wand. It had been so long since she used it, there was dust and grime trapped in glitter. She rubbed the wand against her dress, trying to get the worst of the dirt off. Returning to the door she mumbled to herself and pointed the wand towards the retreating figure.
"See the truth beneath the mask
See the good and caring soul
Beauty is as beauty does
Let others look and view the whole."
A sparkle of stars seemed to run from the wand and surround the girl on the lane. A gentle wind set the leaves to murmuring and if someone had been listening very carefully they might even had heard a tinkle of bells.
The Godmother turned and met the cat's eyes. He was sitting in the middle of the floor calmly watching her. She stabbed the wand through her belt and stared him down. "Okay, fine, I was interfering but she really was a brave girl coming here and all and I never did believe the sins of the fathers should be met on the child. Besides, it's the same spell. I didn't change how she looked, I just made it so's people will see the inside matching the outside. It's up to her now. That's justice and that my job."
The Godmother returned to the fire. She seemed to be lost in thought as she automatically refilled the kettle with water and replaced it on the hook. She went and sat in her rocking chair and stared out the window. She could just make out the tiny figure of the girl in the distance. "Oh for goodness sake." she muttered and went back to the door. Opening she took out the wand again and pointed. She muttered some words under breath and when she turned back to the cat she met his glance defiantly.
"Okay she's gonna find her shirts a little tight now and she may be top heavy at her swordplay but when it all comes down to it, boys are so visual."