Chapter 2

1984

Being Mayor was fun. It was kind of like being Queen, but rather than it all being about goblin wars and chests of gold and who might be marrying who, it was sanitation and the school board and things that her constituents actually needed. Who was it had thought about those things in the Enchanted Forest? Each for their own, she guessed.

There were stressful days; like when the accountant (who actually enjoyed it when she had accidently referred to him as 'the Bean Counter') told her that there wasn't enough money for her plans, or when she made a fool of herself over failing to know how to use some piece of machinery, or the discovery that, as beautiful and practical as they were, the red rubber boots on her back porch were not intended to be worn indoors.

In the evenings she read the magazines she found in the newsagents and learned a lot about dressing, and about the workings and morals of this new world. She was learning to cook as well. It turned out that there was as servant who came to do the garden. Her name was Michelle - although Regina had an inability to not call her Mistress Mary - and she showed Regina how to work the appliances in her kitchen with no payment other than slices of pie and bowls of soup.


Michelle (must remember to call her that) intrigued Regina. Regina couldn't say that she'd ever really had a friend before, and now, here was this woman who came into her house and sat in her kitchen and ate her food, and laughed with her and taught her things, and told her about her own life, and appeared to want almost nothing in return. Michelle, it turned out, had a girlfriend, rather than a boyfriend. From her reading, Regina was aware that while some people in this land frowned on that sort of thing, it wasn't actually unusual.

"What a fantastic world this is, that we can be so happy," said Regina one rainy evening, as Michelle dried off in front of the fire before making preparations to go home.

"It's odd you say that, Madame mayor, because I don't really know if I agree with you or not."

Regina cocked her head, and handed Michelle another towel.

"You were obviously talking about me and Betsy, and I sure I am glad that I don't live in another time, or in pretty much any other country on earth, but although I have so many things that should make me happy, sometimes I have this odd feeling that there's something missing; something I'm not seeing, or something really big that I should know. Do you know what I mean?"

"No," answered Regina truthfully.

"For instance, what about your childhood?" asked Michelle.

"What about it?" answered Regina, "There's not much that I need to remember from it."

"That's the thing, exactly," said the gardener, "I feel like I had this fairytale childhood full of summer and roses and singing, but when I try to recall the details there aren't any. Sometimes everything seems very foggy."

"It sounds very pleasant, if you ask me," said Regina.

Michelle took some sort of exception to Regina's reply;

"You might be fine with saying that, but I hardly think it's pleasant that I feel like I didn't really have my past at all."

"Then maybe you should see a doctor," said Regina. Sitting back in her chair, her mouth suddenly hardening. "It doesn't seem normal."

Michelle, her dried hair now tied up, and her boots on ready to leave, turned back to her friend, who was sipping her cider and looking out the window. "That's hardly a friendly thing to say, Regina. I don't need a shrink. I need understanding – from a friend."

"Well, I don't understand, so I don't know how I can help."

"Okay. Be like that." Michelle picked up the last of her things and headed for the door. "I'll see you next week at the same time. Remember, don't go cutting the blossoms off the apple trees no matter how pretty they are, or you won't get fruit."


Regina stayed where she was, sipping her drink and feeling the alcohol sink into her brain. Was Mary really upset about not having clear memories of her childhood? How could it matter that much to her that she'd walk off in huff? What happened in childhood anyway? Lessons, scoldings, endless hours of being told not to talk because adults were. Why would anyone want to remember all that with any sort of clarity. She would gladly lose her memories of childhood and have them replaced with the sunny pastel imagery that Mary had.

The biggest thing on her mind though, wasn't childhood, but the Curse. Of course, she had carefully worked with Rumplestiltskin to make sure that everybody who was a 'victim' of the curse wouldn't remember anything. That had kind of been the point. She hadn't factored in that anyone might be upset by their inability to remember the past. What more could she do, that what she'd offered Mary/Michelle; counselling. There was a psychiatrist in town; she'd see his plaque. He'd be able to make people feel better about the reality they faced. Then again, if no one other than herself remembered their childhoods, then normal was just the experience of the majority, wasn't it? It was she, Regina, who most likely needed the help of a professional, if she was going to go through 28 years of having to pretend to be like everyone else.