§ § § -- September 25, 1999
She ran till she simply couldn't keep going anymore; she was too winded to move by the time she finally stumbled upon what looked like a sprawling child's playhouse, complete with well-manicured lawn, window boxes filled with flowers, and even a tiny white picket fence. She stared at it, knowing it must be the home of the seven dwarves, but unable to go any farther for lack of oxygen. This is one heck of a big island, she thought. Although I still can't figure out how Mr. Roarke managed to change the character of the whole forest like that. Haven't seen a single palm tree since I started this fantasy.
Some ten minutes later, having finally caught her breath, she ventured across the yard and into the house, having to duck to enter. Once inside, she cautiously straightened up and felt the top of her head brush the ceiling; but at least she could stand upright. Only then did she take a good look around. The rooms were immaculate, the kitchen well-equipped, the living room very comfortable-looking. She let out a laugh at the widescreen television set at one wall. "Not exactly the original story," she said aloud. "I doubt Mrs. Grimm's boys ever sat down to watch Monday Night Football."
"Yeah?" said a surly voice. "Just because the queen chooses to live like a barbarian doesn't mean we have to." Caroline spun around and grinned widely. Seven small men had crowded into the room and were eyeing her with curiosity, surprise or distrust. The one who had spoken wore a deep scowl that looked permanently etched there. "What're you doing in here anyway? Come to steal our TV?"
"Told ya we should've installed a lock on the door," one of the other dwarves said.
"Hey, guys, calm down," Caroline interjected. "I just need someplace to stay for a night or two. I'm on the lam…the queen wants my heart on a platter."
"Oh, yeah, it's Snow White," said a third dwarf and giggled.
Another bobbed his head, released an explosive sneeze and croaked, "I've heard of you. Supposed to be the prettiest girl in the kingdom." He sneezed again.
Three of his companions shrank back in disgust. "I wish you'd let Doc treat that stupid cold already," complained one of them. "Next thing you know we'll all be stuck in bed while Happy reads to us out of his infernal comic books."
"Happy?" echoed Caroline, brightening. "So you guys do have the Disney names! It'll make it a heck of a lot easier to keep track of you. Let's see if I can remember everybody. Uh, which one's Happy?" The dwarf who had giggled waggled his fingers in the air, and she grinned. "Doc?" The dwarf who'd mentioned installing the lock gave her a wary nod. "And let's see, how about Grumpy." This was the first dwarf, who snorted in response. "I can see you're Sneezy, poor guy. Don't you have any cold medicine around here?"
"Are you kidding?" Doc demanded incredulously. "The nearest drugstore's fifty miles from here…and in case you haven't noticed, we don't own a car."
"Sorry," said Caroline. "I just figured you'd have some handy, you being Doc and all." At that moment the dwarf who had complained about Sneezy's cold yawned loudly, and she exclaimed triumphantly, "Sleepy!"
"Not at the moment," said the dwarf in question, rolling his eyes. "Just bored."
"Dopey?" Caroline ventured next, and a dwarf standing beside the door gave her a buck-toothed grin and tipped his hat. "And that must make you Bashful." This she said to a dwarf who looked decidedly younger than the others. Bashful smiled faintly and looked away, face turning red.
"Well," said Caroline, just to break the uncomfortable silence that descended. She visibly startled Bashful; Dopey blinked myopically at her.
"Well, what?" demanded Sleepy, predictably, just before Sneezy lived up to his name again and made Sleepy circle warily around behind Doc.
"Well, I don't suppose any of you are hungry," Caroline suggested weakly.
"I am," Dopey said eagerly.
Grumpy glared at him. "We just ate breakfast, you idiot. No thanks, Miss White. In any case, the cooking duties belong to Bashful here. He's got a nice brewery down cellar too, so we let him worry about the edibles. Try again, and you might stumble over some way to earn your keep if we let you stay."
"Would you really turn her over to that nasty queen?" Dopey asked, looking horrified. "I don't like her one bit. She called me an im…im-buh…she called me stupid." He folded his arms over his chest and repaid Grumpy the glare, with interest. "If you do, I'm goin' with her. She'll need somebody to protect her."
"I could keep house," Caroline offered.
"And take away my job? I should say not," declared Sneezy.
Caroline stared at him. "You mean, you're the one who does the dusting and vacuuming around here? No wonder you sneeze all the time. You're probably allergic. Some doctor you are." This last she directed at the claimant of the appellation. "The whole lot of you think the poor guy's got a cold, when for all you know, he's allergic to the dust you're making him clean up."
"You done yet?" snapped Grumpy impatiently.
"I haven't even started, buddy," Caroline retorted. "Since you won't let me cook and you're bent on making poor Sneezy suffer, then maybe I could do yard work. Landscaping and weeding and planting and whatever."
The dwarves looked at one another; several of them shrugged. "Suits me," Sleepy said. "I usually do that, but I'm trying to write a novel and I never have any time because I'm always out there mowing the lawn. Hey, girlie, thanks for the break." He grinned broadly. "I'm off to the computer, fellas. Don't call me till lunchtime." He scuttled off into another room and banged the door shut.
"Okay, then, in that case, out ya go," Doc said. "We've got a whole garden that needs weeding, and since you volunteered…"
"What an incredibly friendly bunch of guys I've met up with," Caroline said sarcastically to the ceiling on her way to the front door. "They've all been just so nice and sweet and warmhearted…more than willing to offer a hunted girl a little sanctuary…" She rolled her eyes for emphasis and squeezed out the door.
"What a sad story," Happy remarked cheerfully. "Y'know, I could use a change of company myself. Hold up there, Miss White, I'll come help you."
"I think I will too," said Bashful unexpectedly, in a soft, shy voice, and trailed Happy out in Caroline's wake. She smiled gratefully at the two.
"Thanks, guys," she said. "Okay, so where's the garden?"
They'd been weeding for some time, with Happy chattering nonstop and Caroline and Bashful mostly just listening, when there came the sound of horseshoes clomping across hard-packed earth, and they all paused and looked around. After a moment, a pure white horse emerged from the forest, bearing an impossibly good-looking man dressed in silk, golden cloth, and leather, with a long royal-purple cape hooked across his shoulders and draping over the horse's flanks. He reined in beside the cottage and looked the trio over, while Caroline stared at him, mesmerized.
The prince straightened a purple felt tricornered hat with an ostentatious white feather attached to it. "Well…a nice day for slave detail, I see."
"Yeah, isn't the weather grand? We thought it was going to rain, which would've been great for the garden here, but not so much for the weeding…and speaking of weeding, this is Miss Snow White. She's staying with us for a few days while she's on the lam," said Happy excitedly. "That wicked old queen wants her heart for dinner."
"Is that so? Perhaps she'll invite me," the prince said thoughtfully. "I do so love roast heart. Haven't had any in eons. I'll have to wear my good clothes…these rags just won't do for an audience with the queen." He brushed at imaginary dust on his clothing, whipped a comb out of some unseen pocket and began to carefully groom his hair.
"Excuse me," said Caroline loudly. "Didn't you pay any attention? It's my heart you're looking forward to partaking of, Prince."
The prince paused and peered at her as if she were an unusually intelligent parrot. "Oh, was that you talking? Actually, roast human heart is the best kind. You really should try it sometime. Have we met? Prince Charming."
"Snow White," muttered Caroline, reluctantly sticking out her hand. Charming gave it a couple of vigorous shakes before letting go and resuming his meticulous hair combing.
"Do you need some help," ventured Bashful, "or are you just passing through?"
"Hm? Oh," said Charming, putting away his comb and extracting a hand mirror. "I was bored, so I just thought I'd stop by, see if you fellows needed some company."
"We have some," Bashful told him, gesturing at Caroline.
"Some intelligent, stimulating company," Charming clarified, making Happy giggle loudly. Bashful rolled his eyes, and Caroline began to fume silently. "But, well, if you'd rather settle for her…" He shrugged and scrutinized his image in the mirror. "I really must schedule a facial. My pores look closed. And oh no, is that the beginning of a zit on my forehead?" Charming's expression grew horrified. "How dare that presumptuous little pimple mar my perfect countenance!"
"Well, since you're here," Happy said loudly, "how about some coffee?"
"Great heavens, no…it'll stain my beautiful white teeth," Charming exclaimed, making a revolted face. "Though if you happen to have some Evian around…"
"We can't afford that stuff," Happy said with a bright grin, "but our tap water is the clearest in the kingdom. Really, you can't tell the difference."
"I can," Charming pronounced blackly, eyeing the dwarf down one side of the very same aristocratic nose that Caroline was seriously considering introducing to one of her fists. "It's Evian or nothing—I deserve no less than the best. Since you claim to have none, I think I'll just be on my way." He stuffed his mirror back into whatever pocket he'd removed it from, wheeled his horse around and cantered out of sight.
Caroline blew out a loud breath and stared back and forth between Happy and Bashful. "How on earth do you two stand that pompous jerk?" she demanded incredulously.
"Believe me, it's not easy," Bashful said, slowly shaking his head.
"I just bet," Caroline agreed. "I'm going to have to have a very long and serious talk with Mr. Roarke. I was supposed to find my Prince Charming here, and instead this egotistical clown trots in and insults everybody in sight."
"Who's Mr. Roarke?" asked Happy.
Caroline caught herself. I really have to watch what I say when I think out loud, she noted ruefully. "Oh…just my…uh, travel agent," she said. Happy shrugged acceptance, but she thought she saw a skeptical glint in Bashful's eye. When he noticed her watching him, he gave her a half-smile and bent to the weeding once more.
‡ ‡ ‡
After lunch—a delicious meal of rich tomato soup, garlic bread and salad with (of all the ironies) apples for dessert, all whipped up by Bashful—Caroline went back out to inspect the newly-weeded garden, hoping there might have been a few they'd missed earlier. Frankly, it was really only an excuse to get away from the other dwarves. Grumpy lived up to his name every bit as much as Sneezy did; Doc was gruff and curt; Sleepy was still holed up writing his book; and Dopey and Happy had become a little tiresome with their endless chatter. Even Bashful had taken himself off someplace, and he was the only one Caroline could really tolerate for long. She began to find the solitude peaceful, and after awhile just settled down beside a flower bed, inhaling the heady fragrance of the various blooms.
"Well, you look blissed out," observed an amused female voice.
Caroline looked up to see Leslie standing there watching her with a grin. "Oh, hi there," she said. "Yeah, well, you oughta meet those dwarves. Most of them are impossible to be around. I just needed some space." She sat up suddenly. "Hey, since you're here, I want out of this fantasy."
"No can do," Leslie said, "sorry. Remember what Father said before you started? We can't do anything now. There's no way for him to halt or change the fantasy, so you have to see it through to the bitter end. Why do you want out?…the queen?"
"No, her I can handle. It's that dippy Prince Charming. Where'd you get that moron, anyway? The guy's so full of himself I kept expecting him to explode. That's not what I had in mind when I came here for this fantasy," Caroline informed her.
Leslie grinned and said, "Oh, an egotist, huh?"
"And how!" said Caroline with emphasis. "That's not fair, you know. He was the whole reason for this fantasy in the first place. I mean, come on…how else is this fairy tale supposed to end?"
Leslie regarded her for a moment before saying, "Any way you want it to end. It's your fantasy, Caroline. If the prince isn't your type, then look for someone who is. Oh, and by the way…you might want to keep a couple of things in mind. When you get the poisoned apple, bite into the bruised side—"
Caroline interrupted, "I don't think I even want to bother biting into the apple at all. Not if it means I have to have that obnoxious, vain prince kissing me to wake me up."
Leslie laughed. "Just trust me," she said. "Bite into the bruised side of the apple, as I was saying, and keep an eye out for your ally."
"My ally?" echoed Caroline blankly, staring at her.
"Yep, your ally," Leslie said, nodding. "Since you've developed an intense dislike for His Royal Haughtiness, you've already altered the normal predictable course of the fairy tale. But you aren't alone in this—you do have someone on your side, so watch for him."
Caroline squinted at her in perplexity, then let her gaze stray to the little house. "Well, it can't be the cannibal queen, obviously, so it has to be a dwarf by default. But heck if I can figure out which one—" She turned back, only to forget what she had been saying when she realized she was completely alone in the garden. "That's the fastest vanishing act I ever saw," she mumbled. "Those two have to be magicians or something."
"What magicians, Miss White?" Caroline looked around at this and saw Dopey standing at the other end of the garden, almost in the same place where Leslie had been just a moment before. "Can I see 'em? Are we havin' a magic show?"
"Sorry, my friend, you just missed it," Caroline told him lightly, climbing to her feet. "How about let's watch a little TV? There ought to be a decent old flick on somewhere."
