Ch. 2 – The Girl Named Ella

Cinderella was just about to resume scrubbing the floor when the strange boy came looking for her. She wondered where he had come from. His haircut was much different than the current style, hanging around his face, with a little braid in back, and the clothes he had arrived in had been a little strange as well. Plus, they had been filthy and even stranger, singed – as if he had been in a fire – but he had cleaned himself up and changed his clothes for some he had found in the wardrobe.

"Ella," he called, then stopped and looked apologetic. "I hope you don't mind," he said, gesturing to the clothes he was wearing that had once belonged to her father. "I don't have anything else."

She was kneeling on the floor, the scrub brush and pail of water beside her. "It's fine," she said with a smile. "Though they are a little big on you," she said with a giggle.

Jim frowned and looked down. "You're right. But that's why I was about to go into town. See, I'm going to see if somebody could fix up my clothes." He shifted the bundle in his arms of the dirty singed clothes he had arrived in. "I was wondering if you would come with me." Cinderella looked at him with a look of utter astonishment that Jim took as a negative sign. "You know," he stumbled, "to show me around, since I've never been there before. And I need you to show me the way," he clarified.

Cinderella's utter surprise came from the idea of anyone asking her to accompany them anywhere, as if for the pleasure of her company. Her stepmother almost never let her go into town, and certainly not along with her – the girl's ragged clothes would make her an embarrassment, and she had nothing else to wear. She had no friends at all, except for the animals around the house and grounds that she had befriended. She had not been on a pleasure outing with a friend since before her father had died, and that was so long ago it seemed like a different lifetime.

Maybe that was why she had opened up to this strange boy about her father, and even told him her real name – because he was the first person in years she felt she might be able to talk to as a friend. She looked at the boy in happy surprise. "I would be happy to join you." Her stepmother could not punish her for going into town with the boy, because he himself had asked her to, and her stepmother's orders had been to do whatever he asked of her.

"Great," Jim said happily. "Let's go."

"Oh, but I haven't anything to wear," she said dismally, looking down at her ragged skirt, and thinking that the boy would be embarrassed to be seen with her.

Jim took her hand and lifted her off the floor. "What are you talking about?" he said, pulling her toward the door and not thinking about what he was saying. "You're beautiful."

He did not see Cinderella's blush, and he didn't realize what he had said until a minute later. He also realized he was still holding her hand, and let go quickly, but opened the front door for her.

As they walked out the door, a leg-height four-legged animal trotted up to Cinderella and began licking her hands wildly; the animal startled Jim even more badly than the cat, and he jumped back in alarm.

"It's just my dog, Bruno," Cinderella said happily, petting the dog as it panted and lolled its tongue. "This is Jim, Bruno," she said, directing the dog's attention to the boy. Jim flinched as the dog turned to him and started licking him wildly, covering him in slobber, and causing Cinderella to laugh.

Cinderella told Bruno to stay, then led Jim down the road through the woods and into the city. Jim could see now that the people of this world were still far too primitive to have space technology. When Lady Tremaine had mentioned a port, she undoubtedly had meant a sea port, and not a space port. They drove carriages driven by the large four-legged animals, and if this was their main means of transportation then there was no chance they had yet launched into space. His heart sunk at this. There was still the chance, however, that ships from other worlds might visit this planet. He would have to find out if the natives had any contact with other worlds, but he would have to do it subtly, to not give himself away if they were unaware of such things. In the meantime, he felt strangely at peace just wandering the city streets with the girl with the strange name, Cinderella.

Jim stopped in front of a tailor shop and said, "Why don't I go in here, and I'll meet up with you later?"

"Alright," Cinderella said. "I'll wander off and come find you here in a little while."

Jim took leave of her and went into the shop. He had had to split up from her because of the unorthodox methods he was about to use to have his clothes fixed up. "Morph," he whispered to the small creature, still hiding quietly in his pocket. "Peak out real subtle-like and watch the man at the counter there. See what their money looks like?" Morph nodded, seeming to catch his drift. "I need you to shape-shift to look like their money, and then after I use you to pay, you need to slip away when no one's watching and come find me again. But make sure no one sees you! Understood?"

Morph nodded enthusiastically at him. Jim was greatly thankful for Morph's useful shape-shifting abilities. He asked the man at the counter if he could fix his clothes, showing him the bundle of dirty, torn, and singed clothing he had crash-landed in. The man disappeared into the back room and returned an hour later, with Jim's clothes washed and stitched up nicely, looking about as new as they possibly could after the wear and tear of space travel. Jim could have bought new clothes, but his old clothes were the one remnant of his old world he had left, besides the map, and Morph of course.

Morph shifted into the shape of a large pile of coins in his hand, which he handed to the man at the counter. "Is this enough?"

"More than enough," the man said, handing a couple of coins back to Jim. Jim walked away to the front door of the store with his bag of repaired clothes, and waited a moment. Eventually a pink blob came zooming around the clothes racks and toward his hand, and rejoined with the few coins left there to form Morph. The little creature smiled and squeaked happily, floating above his hand.

"Great job, buddy!" Jim whispered.

"Great job! Great job!" Morph parroted happily.

"Yeah, now quick, get back in before someone sees you. They might not know about aliens yet." Morph flew obediently back into his right pocket. The treasure map was hidden in the left pocket.

"This is working out nicely," Jim said, lifting his bag of clothes and wandering away to find Cinderella.

Cinderella had been shocked to wander into the central square of town and find a massive crowd of people all looking devastated. They stood around, some sitting on the cobblestones, a few crying softly with others comforting them. She wondered in bewilderment what had happened. Then she noticed a thin mustachioed man in a palace costume standing on the platform in the middle of the square. He was holding an official-looking scroll in his hand, and looked quite depressed himself. She realized that the scroll must be a proclamation from the King, and this man was the Duke, who always read the proclamations to the townsfolk in the central square. She wondered what the King could have possibly proclaimed that would make people cry.

"Excuse me," she said, approaching the Duke atop the platform. "Sir, I'm afraid I arrived after you read it. Could you tell me what's happened?"

"Oh, it's alright, miss," said the bleary-eyed Duke, sniffing horribly. "I'll read it again for you, shall I?" He held up the scroll in his hands, standing up tall, and read in a loud official voice that reverberated around the square:

"His Royal Majesty Your King regrets to inform his people that his eldest son and heir to the throne, Prince Charmant, on his return voyage home after many months abroad, has been regrettably murdered by pirates."

"No," Cinderella gasped.

"The attack on his ship occurred this very morning, when the ship was not far from the harbor. All aboard were killed except for three men, who had the courage to run to the castle and inform the King of his son's death. The King's last living son, Prince Chartreuse, is now proclaimed heir to the throne. Long live the King." The Duke rolled up the scroll and fell silent. Cinderella stood in a horrified stupor. She did not understand why she felt this way. It was tragic that the young prince had been killed, murdered, while on his way home. Such nice things had always been said about him, and everyone had looked forward to having him as their future king. But Cinderella had never met him before, never even seen him. So why did she feel as if a part of her heart had just died?

"There's strange rumors about," an old woman in the crowd murmured to Cinderella, who barely registered what she was saying.

"Those aboard the ship who survived the pirate attack – they say strange things. They say the pirates weren't even human. They were strange creatures of all sorts, some with too many legs or arms, or too few, some like humongous insects, some with parts like machines. Like demons."

Cinderella sat down on the ground. She could not explain it, but she felt as if she had lost something forever, something that had been meant to be hers. She felt devastated, but did not cry. After all, she had never even known him.

"Ella?" a voice said behind her, and it startled her to hear that name; it had been so long since anyone else had used it. She turned around to see Jim, holding his bag of clothes, and looking concerned. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"It's the prince," she said, rising back to her feet. "He's died."

"That's awful," Jim said.

A few people in palace uniforms appeared next to the Duke and lowered a large square object wrapped in cloth. They set it down and pulled off the wrapping to reveal a large painting of a handsome dark-haired young man.

Cinderella gazed in awe at the painted eyes of the young man. "The King has said that whoever would like to leave flowers or gifts in the prince's memory," the Duke announced, "may leave them here, by his portrait."

Jim was watching Cinderella stare intently at the portrait. "Did you know him?" he asked.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "But you know, I have the strangest feeling that I did know him somehow. I almost feel as if I did know him. But that's impossible. How would I have ever met a prince?" she said with a little laugh. "No." She shook her head sadly. "I never knew him."

"How did he die?"

"He was murdered, by pirates."

"Pirates?" Jim gasped.

"Yes, but that woman was telling me that they weren't normal pirates," Cinderella said vaguely, still staring at the portrait. "She said they didn't look human; they were like monsters, some like giant insects, some with machine parts," she trailed off.

Machine parts! Jim knew that could only be the cyborg, Long John Silver. Cinderella did not notice the different expressions that passed over Jim's face. At first he felt immensely relieved, because the monster pirates must be his crewmates, and that meant they had survived their crash landing, and Silver himself had survived too, which was the greatest relief. And they were not too far away from him. But his relief faded quickly to horror that his crewmates had murdered the young prince, and, maybe what was worse to Jim, they had affected this girl in this way. Silver himself had been among them, maybe even led the attack. At that moment he couldn't believe he had ever called Silver his friend; he had looked up to him, even admired him, like a father. And now he saw that in truth he was a wicked murdering pirate. Then he felt ashamed that he had consorted with such pirates, called them his mates, and sailed with them. He himself could be called a pirate if he was honest with himself. Was he no better than them? He hoped Ella would never, ever learn of his past as a pirate, or his connection to the pirates who had murdered the prince; he intended to never let her find out.

"Here," Jim said, producing a bouquet of flowers from his bag. "I bought these for you," he said awkwardly, "but I think maybe you'd like to give them to him instead." He nodded to the portrait of the prince. He had purchased them with the same cheating way, having Morph shift into the form of money, but he had no intention of letting her learn about that either.

"Thank you," she said, smiling sadly, and taking the bouquet. She walked up to the portrait and lay the flowers gently before it. She took one last look into the prince's eyes, feeling they would haunt her forever, and then she turned back to Jim and walked away with him.

As they meandered the city streets, glancing in shop windows, Jim could tell that the death of the prince was troubling Cinderella, which was strange because she had never met him, and this troubled Jim for reasons not yet clear to him. They passed a shop window full of dresses and ball gowns, and Jim saw Cinderella's eyes linger on the window. "Come on," Jim said, laying a comforting hand on her arm. "Let's go look inside."

He watched her admire dress after dress, looking quite out of place in her sullied servant girl clothes. "Pick out your favorite," Jim said to her.

"Oh I couldn't possibly; they're all so beautiful." She stopped before a book lying on the counter, full of dress patterns. "Oh! I have this book at home! It was my mother's. I used to look through it when I was little." She flipped through it and stopped at a picture of a dress bedecked with ribbons and bows. "This was my favorite when I was little. My mother was going to make it for me someday." The sadness returned to her face.

"Is your mother with your father?" Jim asked gently, because she had not mentioned her mother before. Cinderella nodded sadly, and Jim felt horrid, imagining how he would be able to manage without his own mother. Being deprived of one parent was bad enough, but at least then there was still one left with you. He could not imagine having both taken from him.

"I'll buy this dress for you," Jim said eagerly, looking at the picture. "Pick your favorite color, and I'll have them make it for you."

"What?" Cinderella looked at him with startled eyes. "No, I can't pay for it."

"I just said I'd buy it for you! You don't have to worry about paying."

"But," she said in confusion, "why would you do that?"

"As a present," Jim said with a shrug.

"I couldn't accept," she said. "I have nothing to give back to you."

"I think you're missing the point of a gift," he laughed. "I don't want anything back for it."

"That's very kind of you, Jim, but I'm afraid I couldn't accept a gift like that." She lay the book down on the counter and walked away, flustered. Jim subtly took the book and approached the man at the counter.

"Sir," he said, showing him the picture of Cinderella's favorite dress. "Could you make this dress for my friend over there? As a surprise."

"Certainly," the shop owner replied. "In what color?"

Jim grimaced and tried to think like a girl. "Uh, pink," he answered.

"Yes, pink," the man said pensively, stroking his moustache. "With white trimming. It will look lovely. Shall I deliver it your friend when it's finished?"

"That would be great."

"Write down the name and address." He slid over a pencil and notepad to Jim. He wrote down "Ella, The Tremaine house," and hoped he had spelled it right.

"I'll have it finished in a few weeks," the man said. "And then have it delivered. As for price…"

Jim felt Morph in his pocket morphing into the biggest pile of coins yet, and pulled out the heap to show the man. "This should cover it," he said firmly, for he really didn't have much idea about the worth of their money. "Keep the change, and I expect an extra good job for it."

"Agreed, good man," the shopowner said enthusiastically, taking the heap of coins that was not really what it seemed to be.

Jim meandered away through the shop and stood hidden behind a rack of dresses, and waited a few minutes until the shopowner had stowed the heap of coins in a drawer and disappeared into a back room. In that moment, the drawer opened by itself and a pink blob zoomed out. It spotted Jim, flew over, and dived into his pocket, where he felt it doing somersaults and gurgling happily to itself.

"Thanks, Morph, " he said. Morph squeaked. "Well, I do feel a little guilty actually," Jim replied, "but I guess I am a pirate, after all. But I plan on paying him back. You'll see, I'll stop by one day and put some real money back in that box. With interest. That should clear my conscience."

He walked out of the shop to find Cinderella admiring several carts where food vendors were showing off their delicacies: cheeses, strings of sausages, candied apples and cakes. Using the same trick, he bought enough food for both him and Cinderella to have a picnic lunch, and Morph managed to find his way back to Jim's pocket without any bystanders noticing. If they did notice, they would dismiss the flying pink blob as a trick of their imagination. Jim was grateful sometimes how dismissive and unimaginative adults could be; they wouldn't notice the strange and unusual if it ran up their leg and bit them.

Though she wouldn't accept such an expensive gift as a dress, Cinderella was happy to be treated to lunch, and thanked Jim profusely. They sat themselves on the edge of a trickling wishing fountain in one of the city squares, and split the food equally between the two of them. Cinderella playfully scolded Jim for biting into his candied apple before the main course, and Jim flushed and set it back down only to then look up and see Cinderella biting into her caramel apple with a huge grin on her face. They both laughed. Jim found it strange that this girl on an alien planet light year away from his home was the first person his own age who he had felt able to talk to in years.

They were halfway through their meal and chatting happily when Jim heard familiar voices behind them, and grimaced. "Mother, mother, look," a girl's whiny voice was saying. "Is that – Mother, is that Cinderella? Out in the town?"

"And in those clothes?" and equally whiny voice said. "Oh, what a disgrace!"

"Cinderella," a woman's scornful voice called over the fountain, and Jim watched Cinderella's smile disappear as she turned and saw Lady Tremaine, accompanied by her two daughters, laden with bags full of new clothes. They were clearly out on a shopping trip.

Cinderella rose to her feet quickly as the woman stood before her.

"Cinderella," the woman said in a voice so low it was frightening. "What are you doing out in public, looking like this-" She batted the girl's ragged skirt in disgust. "Have you no shame, child? And surely you haven't finished your chores already." Jim could tell that the woman was holding back the full blunt of her anger while they were out in public. "I give you nourishment and a roof over your head and this is how you repay me," the woman said very quietly and dangerously. "You will go straight home this very instant, and, so help me, when I get back home I will have such a list of chores for you -"

"Please, ma'am," Jim said, forcing himself between Cinderella and the tall terrifying woman. "She's only here because I asked her to accompany me. I ordered her, in fact. I needed someone to guide me into town, and you did say that if I needed anything, I should ask her. So you see, she isn't disobeying your orders at all."

"Oh," the woman said, taken aback. "Well, I see, Mr. Hawkins. Please forgive me. I hope you're enjoying your visit to our town."

"I was," Jim retorted.

"Well, we'll see you back at the house for dinner, then?"

Jim nodded curtly. "Yes, thank you."

"Wonderful. Come along, girls." Lady Tremaine glided away. Her two daughters followed behind her, while looking back at Jim, waving and giggling, batting their eyelashes conspicuously. Jim was steaming furiously, and didn't look back at Cinderella until the awful trio had disappeared around a corner. The girl looked very distraught.

"Don't worry about her," Jim said. "She has no right to treat you like that. In fact, if I was you, I would quit working for her and go find someplace else to work. I doubt anybody could be as awful as her to work for."

"Maybe you're right," Cinderella said quietly. He could feel she was holding something back, but he didn't pry.

Jim decided on his next course of action. "If we go home now," he said, "I can show you something that will cheer you up for sure."

Cinderella looked at him, and he saw the sparkle had returned to her blue eyes; it was so hard to find sometimes, but when it shown it shown like starlight. "I can't wait," she said, and they made their way back to the Tremaine house.