CHAPTER 17
At breakfast, I gather berries with Pinocchio. We speak only through our eyes. Something inside each of us has changed. We’re happier, freer, wiser. I’m not even filled with dread when I report to my session with Shrink.
“So, Jane, let’s pick up where we left off yesterday,” Shrink says as she whizzes into her office.
Her entry takes me by surprise. Reclining on the chaise, I’ve been lost in thought about my night with Pinocchio. That’s something she’s never going to know about, though a part of me wants to tell her everything.
She zooms in close to me. “I reread your story. It ends rather abruptly. And there’s quite a big gap in time. The little girl stops dancing, then she’s all grown up and marries a king. What happened in between?”
My chest tightens. Reliving my past is no easier today. “My mother went out with a lot of men.”
“What kind of men?”
“Creeps. All of them. Even the rich ones.”
“What made them creeps?”
“They drank. Cursed. And stunk.” I scrunch my nose, still smelling the stench they left behind. A combination of stale beer, sweat, and semen.
“Did they ever—”
I cut her off. I know where she’s going. “No! My mother didn’t want me around. She kept me locked in a closet.”
“Was she jealous of you? Like how you were jealous of Snow White.”
I shudder. I never thought about my mother being jealous of me. Maybe it’s true. Like mother like daughter?
Hovering close to me at eye level, Shrink looks at me with intimidating intensity.
“Jane, I’m going to ask you a question, and I don’t want you to interrupt. Did any of your mother’s suitors ever touch you?”
The blood inside me rushes to my head. I feel like I’m going to implode. I can no longer keep it in.
“Snow White’s father came into my bed!”
If Shrink is shocked, she does not show it.
Tears flood my eyes as I relive the event that changed my life forever. “My mother had finally seduced a King. A widower with a young daughter. She was set to marry him.”
Shrink jumps in. “How did you feel about that?”
“I was excited about living in a big castle. And having a little sister. And now that my mother had gotten what she wanted, I was sure she would stop beating me—”
“And love you?”
Silence. How does she know?
“What happened?”
“We spent the night before the wedding at my castle. I mean, his.”
“You lured the King?”
Her hurtful question jolts me upright.
“No! Never! He was drunk and forced himself on me.”
My tears cannot blur the memory of his lustful assault. Hard. Harder. Heartless.
“Go on,” says Shrink, her voice still showing no emotion.
I find myself talking in present tense, the words crawling out like shell-shocked warriors.
“Suddenly, the chamber door slams open and a voice screams out, ‘How dare you wreck my life, you rotten little witch!’ My mother! Her bulging eyes fixate on me like a cobra ready to strike. The King rolls off me and—”
Crack! The sound explodes in my head. A razor-sharp pain rips across my chest. And then another loud crack, this one more agonizing. I clench the worn arms of the chaise, my body writhing.
“Jane, tell me, what’s going on?” Shrink’s voice cuts through the memory and pain.
“My mother…she’s whipping me with The King’s thick leather belt, the one he tore off his robe and flung to the floor. With every strike she hisses, ‘Witch! Witch! Witch!’”
Shrink lets me take a long pause, then asks, “What did The King do when your mother attacked you?”
The scene unfolds in my head as I recount the nightmarish events that follow. “The King, regaining his senses, struggles to wrestle the belt away from my mother. Then a tiny porcelain figure, lit up by moonlight, runs into the room and cries out, “Papa! Papa!” Snow White. The King’s precious three-year old daughter. To my horror, my mother swings the belt at her. Crack! The helpless child cries out in pain. The King, horrified, lunges at my mother to try and stop her, only to be whipped by her himself. Snow White wails louder, and I run to her side. To protect her. My mother charges toward me, wielding the belt. Prepared for the worst, I huddle over Snow White. But just at that moment, a large man bursts into the room and takes the blow for me. Saving me. His eyes meet mine, and I recognize him immediately. He’s the bearded man with the knife I encountered in the forest not long ago.”
“Who was this man?” asks Shrink.
“The King’s Huntsman.” I do not tell her about our previous encounter.
“The same Huntsman you sent to kill Snow White?”
I nod weakly.
“Jane, are you okay?”
The madness of that night swells in my head. I press my fingers against my pounding temples and muster the strength to continue. The scene plays on despite how much I wish I could pull the curtains on it.
“The Huntsman, undeterred by my mother’s wrath, pounces on her, knocking her to the floor. ‘Take her away,’ commands The King, holding the still sobbing Snow White in his arms. The Huntsman yanks my mother to her feet, gripping her by both arms. The enraged King confronts her: ‘If I ever see you again, I shall destroy you!’”
Shrink gets in a question. “How did your mother react?”
I close my eyes and knead the back of my neck. The memory of my mother fighting The Huntsman as he hauls her out of the castle fills my head. Kicking. Clawing. Howling. Foaming. She’s become a monster.
“She says one day we’ll all be sorry,” I say, reopening my eyes.
I’ll never forget the venomous look in her eyes as she hissed those words. Never.
“Did you ever see her again?” asks Shrink.
I shake my head. I was happy she was out of my life.
Shrink heaves a sigh. “I must admit it’s quite a page-turner of a story. What happened next?”
My sobbing subsides a little, and I switch over to past tense. “I married The King.”
“Why?” asks Shrink, a hint of surprise in her voice.
“I had no choice. I was carrying his child.”
“His second child,” notes Shrink. “What happened to the child?”
Sadness sweeps over me as I remember the pain, the blood…so much blood. “It was a very difficult birth. I survived, but the baby, he died.”
I sob heavily again, burying my soaked face in my hands. My poor little baby! I held him for only a minute. But I’ll never forget the touch of his dewy skin or his silky curls. Or the heartbreaking expression on his tiny face that cried out for life, not death, as the midwife pulled him away.
I don’t know long I’ve been crying when Shrink’s voice sounds in my head. “So, Jane, you lost The King’s son. His only heir. How did he feel?”
I raise my head slowly, remembering how much I wanted The King to hold and comfort me. Instead, he ranted, blaming me for the infant’s death. And then he punished me.
“He banned me from his bed.” My voice is hoarse from crying.
“That’s a lot for a young woman to handle. The loss of a child and spousal abandonment. Plus the trauma of your mother. How old were you?”
“Thirteen.” So long ago yet now it feels like only yesterday.
“You were practically a child yourself,” Shrink says with a gentle flutter of her wings. “How did you feel?”
“I felt nothing.” Sadness had numbed my heart.
“What happened to The King’s other child, Snow White?”
“She grew more and more beautiful every day. The King doted on her.”
“But he didn’t dote on you, his wife.” She’s getting tough with me again. “How did you feel about that?”
“I was jealous. I thought The King loved her more because she was more beautiful than me.”
“What did you do?”
“I was alone most of the time. I spent hours standing in front of my mirror—”
Shrink interrupts me. “What mirror?”
“My mother’s. She had ordered The King’s men to move it from our flat to the castle.”
“Ah, the mirror from your childhood. Remember, Jane, there was nothing magic about it.”
My stomach muscles clench at her words. I still don’t believe her. I go on, taking precaution to make her think I do. I so badly want out of this place.
“Every day, I stood before it, making myself as beautiful as possible, until I believed I was the fairest of all. The King still paid no attention to me. The more he ignored me, the more time I spent with my mirror.”
Shrink nods. “Of course. The more he ignored you, the more you felt unloved. Continue.”
While I’m sure I’ve fooled her, her words make my blood run cold. I take a deep breath before going on. “The King went off to war and left me in charge of Snow White.”
“How did you feel about that?”
“At first, I resented it. Then I saw an opportunity to bring her down. So I dressed her in rags and treated her like a servant.”
“Understandable. You modeled your parenting after your mother’s.”
Like mother like daughter. An image of Snow White on her hands and knees scrubbing floors flashes into my head. Singing no less! No matter how poorly I treated her, her beauty remained intact. In fact, with every passing day, her beauty was more evident. I was nervous that my little plan was backfiring.
“And tell me, what was going on between you and your mirror?” asks Shrink, interrupting my thoughts.
“My mirror continued to assure me that I was still the fairest of all.” I pause. “Then it gave me a scare.”
“How so?” asks Shrink sharply.
“On the day Snow White turned seven, it told me she would one day be fairer than me.”
“Correction.” Scowling, Shrink adjusts her spectacles. “Your mirror didn’t say a word. You were merely facing reality.”
“Right.” I nod like one of those bobblehead toys. Why can’t I believe that my mirror wasn’t magic?
Shrink gives me a fleeting smile. “How did you feel when you realized that Snow White could possibly be more attractive than you?”
“I panicked. I worked her harder. Fed her practically nothing.”
“You wanted her out of your life.”
I say nothing.
“Just like how your mother wanted you out of her life.”
“No! It’s not like that!” I shout back.
“I don’t understand, Jane. Explain to me what you mean.”
“I thought that if I could starve or work her to death, The King would finally love me.”
“In other words, Jane, you were still searching for love. Desperate for it, in fact.”
I’m so confused. How did this suddenly get back to love?
“What happened to The King?” asks Shrink.
“He died in battle.”
“How did you feel?”
“On one hand, I was glad he was dead because he didn’t love me. On the other, I regretted I never had the chance to make him love me.”
“How did Snow White react?”
“She cried a lot. She missed her father terribly.”
“How did that make you feel, Jane?”
“It made me hate her more.” More than anyone or anything.
“Why, Jane? The King was dead. It no longer mattered.”
“She wrecked my life!”
Like how you thought you wrecked your mothers?”
Shrink’s question brings on another round of tears. I’m unbearably sad and perplexed. What if I’d never slept with The King? What if he had married my mother instead of me? What if I had never talked to my mirror? The what-ifs pile up like dirt, burying me alive. Would things have turned out a lot differently?
Shrink’s voice cuts through the madness. “Jane, listen, to me. You didn’t wreck your mother’s life. She wrecked it herself.”
“I just wanted her to love me!” I cry out, from somewhere deep inside my soul.
“Your mother was sick. She was incapable of loving you.”
Shrink’s words swirl around in my head. They do little to console me. No matter what I did, I could never own a place in my mother’s heart. My chest heaves in pain as I cry uncontrollably.
Shrink gently brushes away my tears. “Jane, you have to move beyond your past and come face-to-face with the person you’ve become. But not in a mirror.”
The chime sounds. My sobs drown it out.
“Time’s up, Jane. I’ll see you here tomorrow.” Like a flash of light, Shrink disappears.
Unable to move, I realize my vanity had blinded me. It wasn’t Snow White’s beauty I envied. It was her knowledge. She knew what love was.
I’m practically a zombie as I do lunch set-up with Winnie. She, in contrast, is like a wind-up toy.
“Jane, I won’t be in group today,” she says cheerfully.
“How come?” I should feel a pang of jealousy, but I’m too worn out from my session with Shrink to feel anything.
“I’ll tell you later. I have a meeting with Shrink.”
She’s skipping a meal to see Shrink? I don’t get it. On second thought, maybe that’s how she’s been losing weight.
“Who would like to share today?” begins Grimm.
“I would,” says Pinocchio.
My heart skips a beat. Oh no! He’s going to tell everyone about last night!
He stands up. “I’m gay,” he announces.
Hook leaps up. “I’m not sitting next to some fag!”
Rage races through my bloodstream. “He’s a person! If you had half the heart he had, I’d find you appealing.”
Hook snarls. “So, that’s it, Jane. You like your men to be pretty boys.”
“Sit down, Hook!” orders Grimm.
Hook reluctantly lowers himself to his chair, sitting as far away as possible from Pinocchio.
I gaze at the beautiful boy-man. His nose has returned to normal size. It’s exquisite. As if someone sculpted it to perfection.
“Thank you for sharing, Pinocchio,” says Grimm, looking pleased. “Now that you’ve come out with the truth of who you are, you no longer have to live a life of lies.”
Pinocchio’s eyes connect with mine. We exchange a smile, knowing we’ll always have our unspoken moment of truth.
Grimm’s eyes rotate around the group, stopping on each of us. “We all hide behind protective screens. Each of you must come forward—like Pinocchio bravely just did—and face the reality of who you really are.”
Oz begins to sob. His face twitches; his body shakes.
“I’m not a great and powerful wizard. I’m a fake. My name is really Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkel Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs. I’m just a washed-up old magician.”
“Ha! You’re a joke!” snickers Sasperilla.
Grimm ignores her. “Oscar, getting old is difficult. Sometimes, we need to reinvent ourselves. Rewriting our lives is good as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
The wannabe wizard hangs his head low. “I’ve let down so many people.” His spasms lessen.
“Oscar, you’ve acknowledged your problem. That’s healthy,” says Grimm.
He addresses the group as a whole. “Sometimes we put a pompous title in front of our name like Wizard, Queen, or Captain to make us feel self-important. It’s a tell-tale sign of an addict. They tend to have a tremendous sense of self-importance and an extremely low sense of self-esteem.”
Hook and I exchange a nervous glance. It doesn’t take a genius to know Grimm’s referring to us.
“Are you implying I’m not important?” snaps Sasperilla.
“Sasperilla, have you ever thought you’ve sought to marry royalty to gain a title and self-importance?”
Sasperilla is taken aback. I have to admit Grimm is good. He’s really getting to her.
“You are important, Sasperilla.” The skinny bitch smiles smugly. “Except not as important as you think.” Her smile falls off her face like a scab.
“You suffer from an enormous amount of insecurity. You starve yourself to give yourself a sense of empowerment.”
Sasperilla fumes. “I’m not taking this bullshit from some dweeb who puts the self-important title ‘Doctor’ in front of his name. You’re as phony as the rest of us!”
Although I wouldn’t mind seeing Grimm come apart for once, he’s unfazed by her words.
“Sasperilla, I worked hard for my title; you, on the other hand, think you’re entitled. The truth is, you’re entitled to nothing. Not even to tomorrow.”
Grimm’s words shut Miss Bitchy-and-Entitled up.
“Would anyone else like to share?” asks Grimm.
“I would.” A giant lump forms in my throat. I’ve just uttered the two words I’ve most dreaded saying in group.
“What a joke!” snorts Sasperilla. “The selfish, self-centered bitch is actually going to share?”
Pinocchio springs to his feet. “You’re wrong! Jane is a beautiful, sensitive woman.”
“Like you’re an expert on women!” snickers the skinny bitch.
Poor Pinocchio looks like a hurt puppy. I want to rescue him.
“Sh-shut up, Sasperilla!” roars Rump as in her face as he can get without touching her.
She cowers in her chair. Thanks, Rump.
Slowly, I stand up. I clear my throat to free the words. “I have a problem. I’m addicted to beauty.”
I’ve finally said it.
“Puh-lease. That’s a problem? Every woman is,” sneers Sasperilla.
Pinocchio gazes at me with his soulful eyes. He gives me the courage to continue.
“My addiction to beauty drove me to do terrible things.”
“Can you elaborate?” asks Grimm.
“I tried to kill my stepdaughter Snow White. I was jealous of her,” I say tearfully.
The entire group is in a frozen state of shock. Except for Sasperilla who leaps out of her seat.
“I’m getting out of here before she does something terrible to me!” she shrieks.
Grimm shoves her back onto her chair. “Don’t move, Sasperilla!”
She shrivels like a child who’s about to get spanked.
Grimm refocuses his attention back on me.
“Jane, are you sorry you tried to kill Snow White?”
If he’d asked me that question when I first got to Faraway, the answer would have been a loud and clear “NO!” Now, I’m unsure.
“Well, Jane, yes or no?”
“YES!” I finally blurt out, sobbing uncontrollably. “I wouldn’t be here! Would I? I wouldn’t be so fu…” Sobs trump my words, and my voice trails off.
“Jane, you’ve made a tremendous breakthrough!” Grimm steps behind me and gently squeezes my heaving shoulders. “Group’s over for today.”
One by one, my fellow inmates follow him out, staring at me as I weep. All except Pinocchio who sits down beside me and holds my hand. My misery gives way to an unexpected lightness of being. Peace.
At dinner, I tell Winnie about my breakthrough. She’s all ears, and I’m surprised how much calmer I am. I feel closer to her than I ever have. After a proud hug, she eagerly tells me her news.
“Jane, I’m going home tomorrow! Shrink and Grimm think I’m ready to start my post-rehab apprenticeship.”
My heart sinks like a cannonball. I should feel happy for her. But I don’t. And, it’s not jealousy. It’s sadness. An awful eat-your-heart-up-alive sadness. First Elz. Now, Winnie. I’m losing another friend.
“That’s wonderful!” Finding my voice, I give her a perfunctory hug. “What will you be doing?”
“Shrink won’t tell me until the very last minute.”
My eyes grow watery. “I’m going to miss you, Winnie.”
“The same,” says Winnie, wiping away my tears. “You’ll be released soon too.”
The tears keep coming. I haven’t cried so much in one day since the loss of my child.
“Will you come to my birthday party after dinner?”
Birthday party? That’s odd. She’s never mentioned an upcoming birthday.
“It’s not really a birthday party,” she continues. “It’s more of a going away party, but there’s a birthday cake because you’re starting your life anew.”
“Of course, I’ll be there.” I force a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
After dinner, we all gather around a mammoth, candle-lit chocolate cake the Badass Fairies have baked in honor of Winnie and sing “Happy Birthday.” A big smile spreads across every face in the banquet hall, except Sasperilla’s.
“I should be getting out here, not her!” she snivels.
The day she gets out of Faraway is the day I’m checking myself back in. That is, assuming I make it out of here.
“Make a wish, Winnie, and blow out the candles,” says Fanta.
With a smile, Winnie closes her eyes for a few seconds. When she re-opens them, she inhales deeply and then extinguishes the candles with one big breath.
Cheers and applause. She’s radiant. I bet she wished for something good for her kids.
Fairweather cuts the cake and then hands out a slice to everyone.
“No thank you,” says Winnie with all the will power she can muster.
I notice how baggy her dress is. She’s lost a ton of weight since her husband’s visit.
“Winnie, you’ve got to try it!” I insist. “Have a bite of mine.”
She caves in. “Okay, just one teeny weeny bite.”
I feed her a forkful of my cake. Then I take a bite. The two of us moan in ecstasy. I’m reminded of the night she, Elz, and I devoured her secret stash of chocolate. The memory makes me smile wistfully.
Sasperilla loiters over to us. “Winifred, I have a going away present for you.” Smirking, she thrusts her plate of cake at Winnie.
“And I have one for you,” says Winnie.
Before I can blink an eye, she smooshes the cake plate into the hollows of skinny bitch’s smirking face.
Sasperilla shrieks, unable to get her chocolate-covered jaw to close.
“I’ve always wanted to do that!” grins Winnie.
God, I’m going to miss her.