The book doesn't look special. Yellow pages marked with time. Brown leather hardcover. Golden letters for the title. It is exactly what you would expect from a fairytale book. The first time I open it, I'm expecting the stories we all come to know: Snow White, Cinderella, Rumpelstiltskin, Pinocchio, etc. But after reading a bit of it, I realize the stories are different. Quite different. Similar to the ones Ms. Blanchard used to make up for me.
They mostly follow the adventures of Snow White and Prince Charming throughout an magical land called the Enchanted Forest, but there are points where every character collides with each other. It tells of Snow White's childhood, how she stumbled upon a secret she couldn't keep and the consequences that came from that. It generated a hatred between her and her stepmother, the Evil Queen, from which neither one of them could ever escape. That sort of dictates where the stories go. It's heartbreaking what happened to the Evil Queen's lover, a stable boy named Daniel, but I don't think Snow White should be blamed for that. If anything, it was the Evil Queen's mother's fault and no one else's. But at this point, the story kind of follows the original: the Evil Queen poisoning the apple and Snow White falling into a slumber, only waking up when Prince Charming gave her a true love's kiss.
There is a bit about Prince Charming as well, how he was born to a poor peasant mother, he and his twin, who was sold to a King who couldn't have children. The twin died, however, and Charming had to go take his place in court. It's around this time that he met Snow White. She was a wanted thief then, and was actually trying to steal his engagement ring. I can't help thinking Snow White is a badass in this book. She and Prince Charming don't need to spend much time together to know they were made for one another.
Which brings me to the strange feelings I'm experiencing.
See, the book didn't come from outer space, no. The new boy gave it to me. I've always had a thing for fairytales, but obviously I can't understand how he could've known that.
It happened like this: I found him in a park bench in the middle of the night. The book rested on the bench beside him full of promises of mysteries waiting to be unfold. Seeing him there, doing nothing specific, yet looking quite entertained, I couldn't help myself and I had to go see what he was doing.
"It's awfully frustrating not knowing, isn't it?" he teased me when I questioned him. "And to meet someone you know nothing about. Do you realize that it's like that for everyone, everywhere, all the time?"
His enigmatic answer held me on the spot. He was right. It is odd for me not knowing who he is and what he could be doing in Storybrooke. It is… intoxicating. Yes, that's the right word for it. It gives me a great need to discover more, similar to what I felt with Lily, but stronger.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to brush it off, but I don't think he bought it. "I was just wondering what you're doing here. Is that not normal?"
"You're gonna have to wait," he told me, dark-green eyes sparkling. "You're gonna have to wait a long time and watch me go around, headed to strange and mysterious locations. And with each passing moment, the mystery will become more tantalizing. Your imagination will inflame, but so will your frustration, never knowing, only guessing what I could possibly be doing in your hometown."
I held my breath as he spoke. How can he have this effect on me? He doesn't know me any more than I know him. But his eyes keep an intense gleam as he watches me like he can see right into my soul and that makes me nervous.
Like he can tell what is going on inside my head. Like maybe he's been made for me.
He leaned toward me and said, very softly: "Or you could go out with me sometime and I'll tell you everything you want to know."
Just remembering makes me shiver. I can't quite believe that has actually happened, that he's said that to me. I felt like I had missed a part of the conversation. "You wanna go out with me?" I repeated, surprised.
He didn't hesitate. "Yes."
"When?"
"Sometime."
"Tomorrow?"
That made him grin. "No disrespect, but you're not ready yet. You must read the book first." And that's when he gave me the heavy brown book called Once Upon A Time. This is just like him (I remember thinking) asking me out on a date and giving me homework. I don't know what came over me when I said yes.
Actually… maybe I do know. I guess I try to play it cool, to be more like Regina, but deep down I know I'm a hopeless romantic. That must come from my biological mother instead.
I can't tell if I'm so interested because I find him attractive or if I'm attracted because he's so interesting and must have the answers I seek. I'm not sure it makes much of a difference. But now that the days are new and unexpected, I feel alive with the endless possibilities. And he, being the one who brought change to town, has to be the one I've been waiting for, the only one for me.
There are other compelling characters in the book as well. Red Riding Hood is a shapeshifting wolf-girl that needs her red cloak to stop her from changing—that's a twist I never saw coming. Oh and one of Snow White's dwarfs, Grumpy, also has an intriguing past. Apparently, he used to be called Dreamy and was in love with a fairy called Nova, but the other fairies and dwarfs didn't think they should be together and separated them. Brokenhearted, he became brooding and grumpy.
There's Beauty and the Beast in here too, except this one is told from the perspective of Rumpelstiltskin which is another surprised to me. As ruthless and mean as he is, he came to truly care for the little maid (who used to be a princess before he imprisoned her) called Belle, who loved him in return, but he simply couldn't believe that anyone could love a monster like him. I guess that when it comes to it, we're the only ones standing in the way of our own happy endings.
Thinking I might be getting too involved, too fast, I close the book.
Ms. Blanchard (in an obvious attempt to bring out the best in us) has invited the high schoolers to visit the hospital because of some volunteer outreach program she has come up with. I guess we are supposed to give up on one of our summer days to dedicate ourselves to the less fortunate. I don't really mind—there's nothing to do in Storybrooke in summer—and besides, I always enjoy spending time with Ms. Blanchard even if it is in a hospital with sick people.
We are put in charge of helping the nurses change sheets and supply fresh flowers to the patients' rooms. It isn't as boring as it sounds; the nurses have some funny stories to tell and the patients who are awake to receive their flowers smile so brightly it makes the whole thing worth its while. Some of them have family over for visits and they too look pretty happy to see us here.
One guy, in the farthest room, catches my attention. There isn't anything special about him, much the contrary—it is the fact that he is completely alone that bothers me. He is a Joe Doe—I ask around and nobody knows where he comes from or how he ended up in a coma. He is another one of the mysteries that are popping up since the newcomers arrival.
The weird thing is… he looks a lot like the illustration of Prince Charming from my new book. I'm not usually this imaginative, but the resemblance is uncanny. I can't look away. Upon closer inspection, I find that he even has the same scar as Prince Charming. And maybe something about his face is familiar to me for some other reason…? I can't quite put my finger on it, but he reminds of… of…
"Hannah?"
I jump. Ms. Blanchard gave me a fright sneaking up on me like that. She is looking so pretty today, for some reason; I think her ebony hair is shorter, her lips are painted red as blood and her skin is looking white as… as snow?
Knowing where my mind is going with that, I give it a shake, trying to clear it. "Sorry," I say. "Did I wander off?"
"We could really use your help with the decorations," Ms. Blanchard says with a smile, "if you're not doing anything." It sounds like a question. She is intrigued by me being here.
I must have missed the briefing Ms. Blanchard gave out there because I can't think of whatever it is that needs to be decorated. I decide to play while I have the cards in my hand. "Do you know who this man is, Ms. Blanchard?" I ask. "Does anyone know him?"
"No," she says with a frown, sounding puzzled, like maybe she's trying to remember something about him. "I read to him sometimes, you know? I fear he might be lonely. Nobody should be… You could read to him, too, if you want, Hannah."
I think about the impressions I'm having of Prince Charming and Snow White and wonder if it's a normal thing to read to a coma patient. I can't quite relate the two things. "What's wrong with him?"
"Oh, I don't know," Ms. Blanchard says, voice kind. "He's been like this as long as I've been volunteering." A sad look crosses her pretty face and I know it isn't because of who Joe Doe might or might not be, or because the connection between Snow White and her prince. This is something entirely her own—an empathy she feels for all beings.
I envy her a lot, I guess. She is so pretty and kind. Good at everything she does. Delicate like a princess. Voice like a nightingale. A smile impossible to replicate. Everybody likes her, everywhere she goes. Nobody would ever think she's crazy. No parents would've given her away. I don't think she's much older than me either—nine, maybe ten years at most. Of course she has been like this for as long as I can remember, another victim of the time curse over our heads.
I wish I could be more like Ms. Blanchard and Snow White.
When volunteering day is over, Ruby and I leave the hospital agreeing that what we both need is a big plate of pancakes. We head down toward Granny's when my strange new friend makes another appearance. He looks even better in this afternoon light, his intense dark-green eyes sparkling, his bright easy smile and the leather jacket that fits him to perfection.
"I've been meaning to bump into you," he says agreeably, eyes searching my face for something I can't begin to guess. "Matter of fact, I was hoping you might want to hang out with me."
Ruby gives me a very distinguished nudge. I try to ignore her. "Is that you asking me out?" I ask. "Finally?"
His shoulders contract slightly as if bothered by the way I phrased that. "Well, if putting a label on it makes you more comfortable, sure," he says. "Let's call it a date."
I'm not sure what to make of that. He sounded interested before, but now he seems to be putting the brakes down. "My mom taught me not to go out with guys who won't tell me their names," I say, playing for time and also because it's past time he tells me. "It weeds out the ones who like to keep secrets, she says, like storing body parts in their freezers." When he doesn't answer, I feel my temper rising. I can't believe he doesn't want to tell me something as basic as his name.
I try to walk past him, in no mood for his games, but he holds me by the arm. Somehow he manages to do that in a delicate and firm way.
"Rider," he says, letting me go. "Flynn Rider."
That almost makes me roll my eyes—even his name is cool.
"So there goes your reason for not going out with me. Hop on," he gestures to his bike which is parked a few feet from where we stand.
It is my turn to hesitate. "You want me to get on the back of that bike?" I scoff.
"That's what 'hop on' means."
"Uh… How about we walk?" I suggest. I am perfectly aware of the amount of witnesses around that will gladly tell my mother about this, should I choose to ride this boy's bike. Regina will flip, bite my head off.
"How about a leap of faith?" When Flynn smiles, it takes my breath away. I can hardly remember the reasons for my reluctance. "Come on, hop on," he insists.
"If you don't, I will," Ruby says, pouting her lips.
Flynn Rider is still grinning and I know I won't say no even if I wanted to. I take the helmet he is offering me and follow him to the motorcycle. The entire time he drives, I feel electrically aware of the touch of his leather jacket against my skin. It is a good feeling—one that I wish would've lasted longer.
However, the bike comes to a stop in a clearing, near the woods, where there is an abandoned well in which I used to play when I was little. It's been years since I've been here last. Once more I'm left wondering how the hell he could've know about this. The answer, obviously, is he didn't. This must all be a coincidence.
"This is where you planned to bring me?" I tease, approaching the well, trying to calm my absurd feelings.
He moves with ease around me like he has not a worry in the world. He is ultra-confident, charming, witted, good-looking. I'm in awe of him. "Is that bad?" He has to repeat the question at least two more times for it to enter my bewitched brain.
"I don't know," I say with honesty. "I thought dates were supposed to be… with candlelight and champagne."
That amuses him. "You want me to get you drunk?" he provokes me.
"No." I answer it a little too quickly. He seems to like that, too.
"Maybe next time," he says.
"Oh, you are optimistic."
The sky is turning a bright shade of violet. I watch as Flynn rounds the well. Why in the world would he bring me here? What could this place mean to him?
"They say this well is special," he says, again, like he can read what's in my mind. "There's even a legend about it."
"I know," I say, gathering enough courage to stand right beside him. "They said that the water from the well is fed by an underground lake which has magical properties, blah blah blah." I cross my arms over my chest to show how very unimpressive that is to me.
"So this legend," he goes on, ignoring my cynical attitude, "says that if you drink the water from the well, something lost will be returned to you."
"You know an awful lot about this town for being a stranger."
"And you know very little for someone who grew up here."
"I know literally everything about Storybrooke." I don't know why I'm defending myself to him. He can be quite arrogant when he wants to. "The little there is to know, I mean. And for a place filled with legends about magic, here is where people look down on you if you believe in any of it."
"What do you believe in?" With a hand over the well, he leans toward me disrupting my focus.
"I—I don't believe in magic, if that's what you mean." The lie sounds almost like a plausible truth this time. Dr. Hopper has been trying to convince me of that for years.
"Water is a very powerful thing," Flynn says and somehow he manages to make it sound like a normal conversation between couples. "Cultures as old as time have worshiped it. It flows throughout all lands, connecting the entire world. If anything has mystical properties, if anything have magic, well, I'd say it'd be water."
He stops, waiting, assessing my response.
For the first time in his presence, I feel a little on edge. I guess part of me is afraid that he might be joking with me. Sometimes it feels like a test—one that I'm destined to fail because, underneath all the pretense, I am the crazy girl who thinks her hometown is cursed.
"That's asking a lot to believe on faith," I answer carefully.
He's still watching me. "If you need evidence for everything, Hannah, you're gonna find yourself stuck in this place for a very long time." His voice is soft, low, accusing, and I don't like the sound of it. I already feel stuck in Storybrooke. I don't need him condemning me.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
He changes the subject. "Did you read the book?"
"Yes. And you didn't answer my question."
"Did you read all of it?"
"Of course not. It's huge—over a thousand pages."
He sighs. "Then you didn't get to the part where you come in." He's upset now, but I can't tell if it's directed at me. "This won't do, Hannah. You need to read the whole thing."
"Uh, you lost me."
"Not for long. The answers you seek are there," he tells me. "You just have to believe it."
The logical part of my brain tells me this getting out of hand. "You need to take me back now," I say. "I wanna go home."
Flynn looks lost in thoughts. He stares into the well. "Would you believe me if I told you there is a curse in this town?"
My heart almost leaps out of my chest. "Yes!" I shout, breathlessly. "That's what I've been saying for sixteen years! I mean, until you got here, you and your friend, that is, time was frozen. I was the only one getting older and… they lived the same day every day like it was normal. And nobody can leave because something… something prevents them—us. I don't know what but…" I stop myself, afraid I might have said too much. Next thing he will call me crazy and leave me here in the woods by myself.
Flynn's face has changed. There is a gleam in his eyes like I've said exactly what he wanted to hear from me. "Yes," he agrees. "Exactly that."
"You believe me?" Without realizing, I take one of his hands. I feel so utterly connected to him right now—maybe because we are the only two people in this world who knows about the curse. I never had someone with whom I could be honest about this, not even Ms. Blanchard (not that I think she would judge me or anything, but I guess I didn't want to put her in that position). It is such a relief—it is a dream come true. "Wait. How do you know about the curse?"
"Oh, I've known about it for a while now," he says dismissively. "But that's not everything, Hannah. You see," he squeezes my hand before saying, "every story in the book I gave you has actually happened."
I wait for the punchline but it never comes. I let go of his hand and take a step back. "So we're back on that," I mutter, thoughtful.
"If you had actually read the book, this conversation would be easier," he says.
"I read the—"
"Maybe you did, but you weren't looking, Hannah." His voice turns passionate, urgent. "You need to open your eyes. You need to see the truth. You need to see them."
The way he says that, with such emphasis, makes me think of the impressions left on me today by Joe Doe and Ms. Blanchard, how I couldn't help but compare them to the characters in the book. I wonder if that's what Flynn wants me to do.
"The Evil Queen cast a curse," he persists. "She sent everyone from the Enchanted Forest here, to this world without magic. And now they're trapped—"
"—frozen in time and stuck in Storybrooke, Maine." My voice sounds cold, detached. I can't think straight.
"None of them remembers who they are. That's where you come in," he steps in front of me. "You must make them remember, Hannah. You have to break the curse. You're the only one who can."
I feel something hot streaming down my face. When did I start crying? I don't know. I also can't tell if these are tears of relief or shame. Relief that someone has finally believed me or shame because I'm well aware this can't be happening, this can't be real. Maybe I'm having an episode or something. Maybe Flynn never took me out today. Maybe I should call Dr. Hopper.
"Please, take me home," I ask him and I sound so tired, so wounded, that he doesn't argue.
I desperately need someone to talk to, so I go look for Ms. Blanchard. She isn't home which, I guess, I should've expected. She is a teacher, not a nun; she obviously goes out from time to time. After aimlessly wandering around for a while, I end up in the hospital without a clue as to how I got here. I feel like something is pulling me, calling to me. I remember what Ms. Blanchard has said about how she often comes here to read to Joe Doe and how I am welcome to do the same. Maybe I should. Maybe that's what got me here.
Inside, I find a commotion near where his room is.
"What's going on?" I run towards it, my previous troubles completely forgotten.
Ms. Blanchard is here, along with the Sheriff, Dr. Whale and, unfortunately for me, the Mayor.
"Is he alright?" I ask, my eyes on Ms. Blanchard, who gives me a slight shake of her head.
"He's missing," she informs me.
I'm not entirely sure I heard her correctly. "Missing?" I say. "How can he be missing? He was in a coma yesterday."
"I came to read to him last night," Ms. Blanchard explains. "I don't know why, I just thought... This time, it was like…" She can't finish her sentence.
"What?" I urge her on.
Ms. Blanchard's eyes lock on mine. "It was like he heard me," she whispers. "He touched my hand." She has a strange dreamy look in her face. "And now he's gone."
Regina comes toward us. "What are you doing here, Hannah?"
"What happened to Joe Doe?" I ask her, ignoring her question. "Did someone take him?"
Sheriff Graham's the one who answers. "We don't know yet. His I.V.s were ripped out, but there's no sign for sure there was a struggle."
"Will he be okay?" Ms. Blanchard asks Dr. Whale.
"Okay?" he says. "The man's been on feeding tubes for years, under constant supervision. He needs to get back here right away or, quite honestly, 'okay' might be a pipe dream."
"Well then, let's start looking," I tell them. "We can't leave him to—"
"That's what we're doing," my mother cuts in. "Just stay out of this, dear." She turns to the Sheriff. "Graham, find Joe Doe. You heard Dr. Whale. Time is precious. Hannah, I'll see you at home. Don't be late." And then she is off like she has bigger concerns to worry herself with.
There is a moment of silence before Graham turns to Whale. "Doctor, how long between your rounds since you last saw him?"
"12 hours or so."
"Then that's what we need to account for."
With Ms. Blanchard and I following him around, Graham goes to the security room where we watch the recording of Joe Doe leaving the hospital on his own. That is good, I think. At least he hasn't been abducted. If he is awake, it means he doesn't need medical supervision. That must be good news.
The bad news is that he has left the hospital toward the woods.
After some begging and some nagging, the Sheriff allows both Ms. Blanchard and I to go with him as he looks for Joe Doe. Graham has always been nice to me, probably because of my mother. We search the woods until nightfall, following some track only Graham can see. He stops then, saying the trail has ended and that there is nowhere else to go from here.
I glance around. We are near the troll bridge. Mind racing, I think about the fairytale book and how Prince Charming and Snow White fell in love in a troll bridge. Could that be another coincidence or is this what Flynn referred to when he said I need to open my eyes and see things as they are? Why else would Joe Doe be searching for that place? Isn't a crazy explanation better than no explanation?
This whole thing is giving me a headache. Everything that Flynn has told me… Actually, it isn't the things he's told me. These things I've known—I've lived it. What bothers me is the fact that he knows them—he, a newcomer, someone who isn't affected by the curse. How can he know? Unless… Unless it's the book. If the book tells the story of the curse, Flynn might have learned it from there. I just have to find out where he got the book from.
Now, let's say I accept that, the book is magical and it tells everything that happened to the point where everyone was cursed. What then? Does it automatically mean that Joe Doe is Prince Charming? And if it does... what the hell is he expecting to find?
The answer hits me like a ton of bricks. My eyes fall on the woman beside me. Snow White. Of course. She was reading to him. Time moved forward. He woke up and went after some memory, some dream that connects him to his old self.
The crazy part is how much sense it all makes.
"I know where he is," I tell the others. Two curious pairs of eyes fall on me, but I have no time to explain. I bolt. I can feel them on my trail, but I don't slow down until I reach the bridge.
I come to a halt. There he is—unconscious, near the water. I'm not sure what to feel at that discovery. The book has led me here as much as it has led him. But I don't believe in the book. Do I?
"Oh my God!" Ms. Blanchard exclaims when she catches up to me.
The Sheriff has his radio. "I need an ambulance at the old troll bridge as soon as possible." He and Ms. Blanchard cross the little stream to where Joe Doe lies. They pull him out of the water onto the shore.
I feel as if I'm watching a movie unfold in front of me. When they get him down again, Ms. Blanchard knees beside Joe Doe, her hands cupping his face.
"I found you," she whispers to him. Or did she? I might have imagined it. "It's gonna be okay. Come back to me." She leans over and her lips touch his as she tries to give him a mouth-to-mouth.
Next thing he starts coughing and spluttering. Their eyes meet and he says his first words: "You saved me."
Did you ever doubt I would?
Voices in my head… Yep. I'm finally losing it.
Now that he is awake, Ms. Blanchard seems more like herself and less of a character from a book. She asks him who he is, but Joe Doe says he doesn't know. He looks confused and lost. We can hear the ambulance sirens in the distance now. Ms. Blanchard assures him he is going to be okay and, for whatever reason, that is enough for him. He believes her.
Why can't I?
Things aren't so nice after that. Soon after we reach the hospital, Regina shows up again, this time accompanied by a strange woman, Kathryn Nolan, claiming to be Joe Doe's wife. His name is David Nolan, she informs us, and they have had a fight a couple of years ago and, as far as Kathryn is concerned, he disappeared on her. She is glad to know now that he hasn't done that on purpose.
The disappointment I see both in Joe Doe and Ms. Blanchard's face, again makes me wonder if I am imagining things. Why should they care unless they are Prince Charming and Snow White? Why else would it look like they are connected somehow? It hardens my belief.
When it comes to impossible things, curses and soul mates is something I can definitely see happening. Now lies… That really grind my gears. I mean, this wife of his can't be telling the truth. David Nolan has been in a coma for almost two decades. It hasn't been just a couple of years. Unless they can't be aware of that, just as they aren't aware they have been frozen in time.
"It's something of a miracle, really," Dr. Whale tells us. "Physically, he's on the mend. Um, his memory is another issue. It may take time, if at all."
"But," Ms. Blanchard ventures, "what brought him back?"
"That's the thing," Whale says. "There's no explanation. Something just clicked in him. He woke up and he was delirious, and… his first instinct was to go find something, I guess."
"Someone," I correct him, unaware I'm thinking aloud.
Ms. Blanchard catches my eye and I can tell that, even if she doesn't understand what happened here tonight, she can feel it, the heavy truth of my words.
"Hannah, let's go," Regina calls me. As I follow her down the hospital's empty halls, she adds: "I had hoped you would look more pleased. True love won out. If it wasn't for you finding him—and me finding her—they would've lived their lives completely alone." She stops so she can look at me and I see, for the first time, the shadow of something malign, some bad intention underneath her words. I look over my shoulder and I can just make out the outline of Ms. Blanchard, sad and alone. I look back at my mother. Has she done this on purpose? To keep Ms. Blanchard and Joe Doe apart? Why would she…?
"Which reminds me of something oh so very important," Regina says, a smile playing on her lips.
"What?" I wonder.
"How grateful I am to have you."
I watch her attentively as words I have never heard her speak, works I have only seen in that wretched book, echo inside my mind.
You promised you'd keep my secret. You promised, but you lied. She ripped his heart out because of you! Because you couldn't listen to me! Now your body will be your tomb.
I take that apple and you let him leave? That's the deal you want to make?
With all my heart.
Then congratulations. You've won.
Regina, the flesh and bone Regina standing in front of me, continues her speech: "Because not having someone, Hannah, that's the worst curse imaginable."
