+ + + + + Remembering
Emma had come by the Pawn Shop early Thursday morning and sure enough, saw Sister Lillian diligently working on the flower garden. She was dead-heading flowers, picking out stray weeds, generally attending to overall appearance of the flower bed.
"Hello, Sister Lillian," Emma greeted her.
"Sheriff Gold or is it Mayor Gold?," the little nun greeted her with a small smile.
"Sheriff for the moment. This flower bed gets prettier every week,"
"Thank you," Lillian did not turn to look at her, actually appearing quite uncomfortable with Emma, with the conversation, with where she was.
"Listen, just so you know. Gold had told me that after the bee sting he couldn't get you any ice, so I've had him put a small fridge in his workroom. He'd been set up with a hot pot to heat up water for his tea but nothing to chill anything. I guess it's the Brit part of him."
"Thank you, but I doubt there will be a repeat of the bee sting. I'm hoping that was a one-time occurrence."
"I hope so too," Emma replied.
"Sheriff," Lillian seemed very reluctant.
"Yes, Sister."
"You've said that Gold has not told you anything about me."
"That's right," Emma lied through her teeth. "Please, call me Emma."
"I don't know that you will want me to, after. . . after I've told you what I need to tell you."
"Whatever could you have to tell me that would make me feel that way?"
"Well," Lillian stood. "After I had begun on the garden, I began to have disturbing dreams, violent dreams, strange dreams that involved . . . your husband."
"Really?" Where was this leading?
"I confessed this to your husband and told him that I felt that somehow, some time I had caused him great grief and I begged his forgiveness. Silly, very silly, I know, but he was gracious enough to grant it. I was so relieved," Lillian was obviously having difficulties continuing her story, "I gave him a very little kiss on his cheek." She looked down at her feet. "It was very bad of me, I know. Please, please forgive me."
Emma thought that was it? "Lillian, many women kiss my husband, some of them are not little kisses, some are not on the cheek and some of these women rub themselves against him like a cat in heee. . . like an affectionate cat," she finished.
"You aren't angry with me?"
"Not unless you plan to make a habit of it."
"Oh no, it was a silly impulse. I was just so grateful. And I have slept better since I got his forgiveness. "
"Hey, I know you've been working hard. His isn't the first garden you get to in the morning. Why don't you come in and get a soft drink. I've got a stash put away in that little fridge."
Lillian hesitated. "Is. . . is Mr. Gold here yet?"
"No, he's dropping Henry off at school this morning and the baby with Ms. Ashley. He'll be in shortly."
"It would be all right then, I guess, for me to come in."
The two women entered the empty pawn shop. Emma turned on the light. He kept the place so darn gloomy. Maybe she should get some track lighting installed or floor lamps or something.
"It's in the back room," she led Lillian through the back curtain into the workroom.
"I've never been in this part of the shop before."
"It's amazing," Emma shared. "There are so many incredible things back here. Some he's working on before he puts them out in the shop. There's neat stuff and junk and stinky stuff. A lot of the stuff back here I think he's probably forgotten about," she opened the fridge. "Cola, lemon-lime, or ginger ale?"
"Lemon-lime, please," Lillian took the can and began to look around. "There are so many things here."
"Absolutely," Emma agreed.
Lillian began to idly open boxes and gingerly look over some of the things sitting on the table and the shelves.
Emma began to open stray boxes herself. So much interesting stuff, most of it appeared to be junk, but every so often there would be something of obvious value tucked away, a tiara, a red velvet cloak, silvery shoes, etc.
"What is this?" Lillian asked. She had found a box on a shelf. It was half-opened and something golden gleaned from inside. "Would he mind if I looked inside?" she asked.
Emma was oblivious. "Nah, Paige and Henry come in here all the time and poke around. As long as you don't start climbing the shelves or pulling stuff down on top of you, you should be fine."
Lillian pulled a length of chain from the box. It was connected to a golden collar. "This is interesting. Is it meant to be jewelry?"
Emma glanced over and caught her breath. "That looks like one of the antiques that he picked up. He has some really odd pieces," Emma moved in to replace the gold collar and chain, about to take it away from Lillian but saw that the little nun had frozen in place.
Very slowly, Lillian began, "This is meant to be worn around someone's neck. It's worn around the neck of someone who is viewed as property, like a slave. I know this piece. I've seen. . ." she stood absolutely still. Emma waited, still holding her breath.
"It's been around my neck. I remember. I remember. Your husband, Emma, your husband. . ." Lillian looked at Emma. "I have to go." She turned and quickly left the backroom and was making her way out the store just as Gold came through the front door.
Lillian stopped to look at him. He could immediately tell that there was something different about the little nun. "You have no power here," she told him. "You cannot hold me. You cannot hurt me." She carefully stepped around him and out the door.
Emma stood in the curtained doorway. "I took her back here to get a drink and she found a box with a golden collar with an attached chain. What the hell were you doing with something like that just sitting in a box right out there where anyone could open it? She identified it as having been around her neck and said that she remembered."
Gold closed his eyes and rubbed his head. "I've been meaning to put it away but just hadn't gotten around to it. I didn't know you were going to take her back there." He took a breath. "She seems more pissed than traumatized."
"Yeah. I guess we could be hearing something soon. Isn't Sister Giselle your contact at the convent?"
Gold nodded, "She is."
"You may want to give her a call and give her a heads-up."
+ + + + + Flight
Jefferson could hear Ray screaming as several monkeys lifted him and carried him across the poppy field. Ray had tried to insist that he would be able to walk across the field, but Jenny had been as equally determined that he stay with herself and Jefferson and cross with the monkeys.
Jefferson would have to agree with the scarecrow that the ride was not comfortable, but, at the same time, he found the flying experience exhilarating. He could see Jenny's face and could tell that she also was finding the ride more exciting than terrifying.
He glanced over at Ray again. The scarecrow was still screaming. He kept losing straw. Poor thing. Maybe he had good reason for resisting the flight. Of course, him thrashing about and trying to hit at the monkeys didn't help his plight.
The passage wasn't long. The poppy field only stretched maybe a quarter of a mile. The monkeys dropped to ground, still some distance from the city. They released the three and, without further contact, they lifted off and flew away.
Ray had collapsed.
Jenny rushed over and was trying to attend to him, but he was moaning, "Too skinny, too skinny." He had indeed lost much of his straw. She looked over at Jefferson.
"Do you think it would be possible to pull some straw out of that hat of yours? I don't think he's going to pull through without it."
Jefferson nodded in agreement. "I'll give it a try," and reached in.
His first attempt yielded odd results. He brought out strand after strand of a soft, thin golden thread.
Jenny was at his elbow and was examining the thread, "That looks like real gold. I've never seen anything like it. It looks like it's been spun. Why would you get gold thread when you were thinking straw?"
"I have no idea. I was thinking 'straw for the scarecrow' and this is what came out," Jefferson was shaking his head. "I told you the hat is unreliable. I'll just think 'straw' this time."
The second effort was successful and Jefferson ended up pulling out what initially appeared to be a small bale of hay that, once freed of the hat, became a full-sized bale. He and Jenny began rapidly re-stuffing the scarecrow, mostly with the straw, but sometimes with the soft golden thread.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," Ray was effusive in his appreciation. "Now I can move. Now I can sit up. Now I can walk. Now I can dance," and he sprang up, grabbed Jenny and did a round of dance steps with her. They all ended up laughing.
Reluctantly, the three looked at each other and began the final leg of their trip to the gates of the green capital city, the Emerald City.
+ + + + + Severing Ties
Sister Lillian was sitting alone in one of the convent gardens. She had been sitting there on a wooden bench for several hours. She had felt alternately like crying and then, like screaming.
It was Sister Giselle who found her. "Lillian, are you all right? You seem upset."
Lillian looked closely at the other nun. For a long time she just stared and said nothing. Finally she spoke in a low quiet voice, "You knew, didn't you? You knew. You knew what he had done to me. You knew what he was, what he is. And you did nothing."
Giselle didn't respond right away. She sat next to Lillian on the bench. "The man has great power in this world and has held the rights to our home over our heads. And I have only just begun to remember myself, Lillian. I remembered what he had done to you, but I also remembered what we had done to him. You suffered greatly, but you're still here. But the man's son is still gone."
"I'm only still here, because he didn't want me to die. I would beg him to kill me. I would try to kill myself, but he always stopped me and then he would punish me. He would punish me, sometimes in ways that caused great pain, breaking my bones, rupturing internal organs. Then he would heal me. And sometimes he would begin again."
She wiped away tears and continued, "The worst was when he would punish me in ways that caused great pleasure, forcing me to respond to his touch. He particularly liked me to beg him not to stop, but sometimes he would. . . stop." She took a deep breath and went on. "He used me sexually in every way a man can use a woman. This went on for years and years. I don't know how long he kept me alive and bent me to his will."
Giselle made no response.
"He liked to humiliate me in front of others, parading me as his slave, his obedient, compliant slave. And I was that, I was so that. Anything to avoid punishment." She had large tears flowing down her face. "I wanted so badly to die, but he wouldn't allow it, he would not allow it. I dared not consider killing him, but I wanted him to die too."
"Of course you did, Lillian. What he did, all that he did, were atrocities."
"But has he been punished? Will he be punished? I think not. He is too rich, too powerful, as you said, even in this world. He will just get to go on with his life. Look at him now. Married to a woman who seems to adore him, two lovely children. And quite the position in the community he's made for himself. He thinks he is untouchable. "
Lillian stood. "I know what I have to do. I've been thinking all afternoon about what I can do." She looked back at Giselle. "I know I wouldn't get away with shooting the man, and that would be too quick for him. I want him to hurt as much as he has hurt me."
Giselle continued to listen. Lillian looked hard at her and asked. "I won't be getting help with this from my sisters, will I?"
Giselle hesitated before speaking. "While we abhor what was done to you and mourn the loss of our two sisters at his hands, we have come to recognize that what we did to him was just as heinous, just as abhorrent. We have managed to come to a tenuous truce with the man."
"Then you have made truce with the devil. He has not changed, just shed his skin for now." Lillian slowly made her way out of the convent gardens.
Giselle watched her. She found herself crying. What had happened to Lillian was so unfair, she absolutely agreed. But what would be served by going after the man now. She could not ignore the culpability of the fairies. They had begun the confrontation.
Giselle called Gold.
"I don't know where she is going, but she is leaving the convent. She is severing her ties with her sisters," she told him. "Watch your back."
+ + + + + Meeting
Jefferson was able to meet with Paige at the Diner. They had agreed to meet one time a week after school. Paige had shared with him that her adoptive parents were wonderful and she didn't want to do anything to upset them. She actually didn't think they knew they were adoptive parents.
Jefferson would buy her a soda and some other treat. He suggested they have Henry join them. Jefferson was acutely aware of appearances and wanted to avoid the appearance of anything untoward. He also thought that, at some point, he would want to introduce Ms. Dodgson to his daughter.
That first afternoon, when it was Paige and Henry, Jefferson quickly saw the relationship between the two children. They were attentive to each other and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. They were a lovely (very) young couple, but were not even really aware that they were a couple, not just yet. He didn't have Gold's precognition, but he could sense that they could very well have a destiny together.
Both of them sparkled with latent magical energy. Different talents, for sure, but talent, nonetheless. Henry was an amalgam of both his parents, the sheer depths of his abilities staggered Jefferson, precognition, telepathy, transporting, telekinesis, the list went on and on. Now, Paige, or Grace as he always thought of her, had bubbles of raw energy, like those her mother would access, and something else he didn't recognize. It was like a peculiar awareness of time and space. He realized with a jolt that this was his magic. Not being strictly tied to any one time continuum, to any one dimension, was what had enabled him to remember his previous life when the curse was enacted. Grace, too, had inherited skills from both parents.
Grace had never asked about her mother and he wasn't going to bring her up.
+ + + + + The Offer
Gold and Miss Blanchard were meeting with the board from The Daily Mirror. She was very nervous and would often touch him on the sleeve for reassurance. For himself, Gold was in his element. A Deal. He still loved making deals, he still felt compelled to make deals.
The board obviously assumed that he was there to assist in their buy-out of Mary Margaret's little newsletter. They were joking and relaxed.
Eventually, they officially began their meeting and proposed an inordinately high amount to buy her out, higher even than the last amount they had last given Mary Margaret.
"That is a very generous offer," Gold began. "We all know that it is considerably more than her little paper is worth. One cannot help but wonder what the driving force behind this offer might be."
The board members became quiet and it was awhile before one member finally shared, "We appreciate Ms. Blanchard's base of readership. While she doesn't constitute a threat right now, we recognize that there is a potential to draw off our subscribers. As much as we are offering, we do feel that it will ultimately be to our benefit. We bear no ill will towards Ms. Blanchard and feel that this money would go well toward her re-establishing herself in another career."
"Excellent," responded Gold. "Another career is something she is looking forward to."
"Then we can sign the papers," the board was clearly ready to sign and go.
"Not exactly," Gold said and waited until he had everyone's attention. "Ms. Blanchard has a counter-proposal."
The board members were all puzzled. What ever could he mean?
Gold slid a contract before them. "She proposes to buy you out. This is our offer. There will be no negotiations. Take it or leave it." He sat back and waited.
The board members were flabbergasted and many began talking at once. "Buy us out?" "This is a very generous offer!" "What does she know about running a newspaper." And so forth.
"Perhaps," Gold began. "We should give you some time to consider her generous offer." He motioned for Mary Margaret to get up and follow him. He then gestured for her to go in front of him. As he walked out the door behind her, he turned. "This is a limited time offer, gentlemen. We expect to hear your response in twenty-four hours." He glanced at his watch as if giving himself a reminder of the deadline they would be working under.
They made it to the elevator before Mary Margaret threw her arms around him and gave him a warm, firm hug. "You were magnificent. I would have crumbled. I would have caved. Thank you, thank you."
Gold was a bit startled when she began to hug him and struggled not to go off-balance. He pulled back a little from the pretty brunette. "Ah, but this deal benefits me greatly, my dear. Don't think for a single moment that I'm doing this as a personal favor. Having a newspaper at my disposal for those occasions when it's needed has been a personal goal of mine for a while."
"Whatever. This is also what I want. I will owe you."
"Actually if this goes through, then for all intense purposes, I will own you." He smiled at her and had the satisfaction of seeing her give a slight shiver. "It's a nice feeling, my dear."
Next: The Emerald City
Lillian asks for help
Ms. Dodgson
The Wizard is revealed
Regina seeks out Gold