It wasn’t my idea. I was lying on the grass behind our house with this book my weird aunt had bought me, but all my thoughts were focused on my birthday. In two weeks, well, two weeks and three days, I was going to be seven years old. Imagine that! In three more years I’d be ten.
I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be getting my dearest birthday wish which was a pony, but maybe I’d get some pretty new shoes. I’d have a party and invite all my friends, but not Theresa Mackie. I wasn’t going to invite her to my party even if her mom and my mom are best friends.
I was soaking in the luxury of hating Theresa Mackie when I realized that one of the pictures in the book my weird aunt had given me had come to life and was standing in front of me.
“I’m the book fairy,” she said “And I need your help.”
Well, I knew my aunt was weird, my dad had said so often enough, but this was even weirder.
Yet I could tell this was a book fairy even though I’d never seen one before. She was pretty much like any other fairy, delicate and graceful but she had faint book printing all over her dress and her dainty wings.
“What’s the matter?”
I thought it would be some simple thing like she’d torn her filmy dress and needed someone to sew it up.
“It’s the princesses” she said. “They’re fighting again and this time it’s getting serious. I need someone to stop them.”
I don’t know why I didn’t back out right there. Anyone with half a brain would have turned the other way and pretended they were deaf. But I was an only child and I lived in my imagination much of the time. A book fairy and fighting princesses were interesting but not wildly unreal to me.
“What are they fighting about?”
“Oh, it’s that stupid prince thing. Every last one of those princesses wants to marry a handsome prince. They’ll do anything to get a tall, handsome, rich prince.”
“Like what will they do?”
“Some birdbrain came up with the idea that the world’s most handsome prince has been turned into a frog and he’s waiting for a beautiful princess to kiss him and release him from the spell. Well, you should see the princesses – they’re all down in the bog fighting over the frogs. Come on, I’ll show you.”
She took my hand and the next thing I knew I was in the middle of the bog. I’ve been down to the bog before. It was silent and green, covered in plants and moss with lots of black, peaty puddles.
Now I didn’t recognize the place. It was full of princesses screeching and yelling at each other. They were all in full princess outfits, ball gowns with huge crinoline skirts and puffy sleeves, their hair straight from the beauty shop with diamond tiaras on top.
I take that back. Some of the tiaras had fallen off and were sinking in the mud as their owners frantically searched for frogs and stole frogs from other princesses.
Everywhere was trampled mud. Princesses were heaving logs out of the way and ripping up plants. Most of them had lost their delicate slippers and their wife poufy skirts hung straight down with the weight of the mud.
I saw one princess deliberately shove another face down into the bog. One in a blue dress elbowed another in a pink dress just as she bent down to pick up a frog, so the frog got away from both of them. They began clawing at each other and one pulled the hair of the tallest princess who had actually caught a frog. She kissed it and when it didn’t turn into a prince three others tried to catch it in case their spit was any better at undoing spells. Any frog with any sense had long ago hopped well away.
“Stop all this and I’ll grant you any wish you want” the book fairy said.
So I jumped on top of a tree stump. “Stop!” I yelled. “Stop!. It’s all a lie!”
Slowly one by one they stopped and looked at me, most of the princesses of Europe, mud covered and perspiring, their hair hanging in strings.
“It’s all a lie!” I yelled again, although I had no idea whether it was or not. “There is no prince. There is no spell. You have to go take your chances finding a handsome prince just like everyone else.”
“How do you know?” one of them asked. The others started muttering together as if they didn’t believe me.
“If you enjoy mud wrestling go right ahead” I answered. “I’d have thought it was more fun going to balls and parties with real princes rather than chasing frogs in this muck. Look at you, you look disgusting, all of you”
Disgusting is what my mother calls me if I even spill a bit of chocolate ice cream on my top. I don’t know what she’d say if she saw the mess these princesses were in.
They nodded and began to look a bit ashamed. One or two of them tried to wipe the mud off their face. Slowly they picked up their tiaras and began to make their way out of the bog. The book fairy looked at me admiringly.
“You were wonderful” she said, “What wish can I grant for you?”
I thought about it. I wanted Theresa Mackie to drop dead but it seemed a bit harsh. “I’d like Theresa Mackie to have a big zit on her nose..”
“Done!” said the book fairy and suddenly we were back on the grass at home.
Darn. I should have asked for the pony.
Valerie Fletcher Adolph 