1 The Bitches of Everafter (3 page)

4

Talking Clocks and Lollipops

Snow stood in the hall for a moment wondering what she was supposed to do now. No one had bothered to tell her where her room was located, so she decided to explore a bit of her new surroundings. She shrugged her bag off her shoulder and placed it on top of the suitcase. The entryway was wide and squat with paisley print wallpaper that was peeling off at the corners. Cobwebs cluttered the unlit chandelier, and a spider was busy making his home between the dull crystals. The staircase was covered with a pale blue carpet that had seen a lot of traffic over the years. Someone had recently vacuumed it, but the stains had taken up permanent residence and were in no danger of moving out anytime soon. A needlepoint chair sat next to the door, holding a stack of yellowing, torn magazines. Snow flipped through them and pulled out a title called
The Art of Charm
. Some of the articles were “How to Properly Cross Your Legs” and “Do’s and Don’ts on the First Date” and “You’ve Landed Your Prince, Now Keep Him.”

Snow cringed at that last one, although she wasn’t certain why.

The rest of the exploration would have to come later—she was exhausted. It had been a trying day and all she wanted to do was slip out of her shoes and rest.  As she gathered her things, Snow thought about what she had said to the doctor and whether she still meant it.

She did. She wasn’t sorry. It had been the right thing to do even if it was a crime and even if she was stuck in this creepy house with these strange women because of it.

Her eyes lifted to the winding staircase. She assumed her room was somewhere up there despite the fact that no one had indicated any such thing. Both Granny and the other woman—Punzie, was it?—had appeared from there.

The grandfather clock gonged as if taking a deep breath as Snow hoisted her suitcase up the stairs and it so startled her that she nearly toppled over.

She steadied herself, clutching the banister, and looked back at the clock with the eerie sensation that it had done that on purpose. It wasn’t the top or half of any hour.

The clock face was stone still, with only the second hand ticking around it.

“Get a grip, Snow,” she muttered.

At the top of the stairs was a long hallway with numbered doors along either side. There were ten rooms in all. She looked at the card Granny had given her, but found no room assignment.

Then she pulled out the house rules and saw her name scrawled across the top in a cramped cursive. Next to it was the number seven.

Seven. Why did that seem significant? Had Granny indeed told her which room she would be staying in and she had simply forgotten?

As she trudged down the hallway to the door with the brass number seven screwed into it, she wondered what she would do if it was locked. Granny hadn’t given her a key. Snow enjoyed her privacy, especially in the presence of so many women. Women didn’t seem to like Snow, and she never understood why. She supposed it was because she had little in common with most of the females she had met in her life. She loved the outdoors and the woods. She liked getting her hands dirty, liked digging in the dirt, and growing her own food. Her hobbies were fishing, bird watching, kayaking, archery, and taking care of sick animals, wild or tame. She wasn’t fond of fashion and didn’t care for cosmetics. She wasn’t interested in fame, fortune, or power like so many of the girls she had gone to school with, nor did she have much desire to date.

She liked men as much as the next girl. Men weren’t complicated and they avoided drama—two traits that Snow understood. Yet she wasn’t, as the article downstairs implied, looking for a prince. She was happily single and it had been her experience that many females couldn’t relate to that—were frightened of it even, as if being single were contagious, or worse. They feared Snow would steal their men away. Of course nothing could be further from the truth. Snow was fiercely loyal. Betrayal simply wasn’t in her nature.

Betrayal
. The word echoed in her mind.

Or had someone spoken it just now? She looked over her shoulder but no one was there.

As Snow reached for the doorknob to room number seven she had the sinking sensation that someone had—or would—betray her.

But whom? And how?

“Well, Snow, there’s a simple solution to that dilemma,” she said to herself. “Don’t let anyone get close enough.”

“Do you always talk to yourself?” said a deep voice.

Snow gasped and dropped her suitcase.

She turned to meet the man behind the voice.

He had ginger hair and a crooked grin. He was only a bit taller than Snow, with wide shoulders and biceps that his tee shirt could hardly contain. He was clean shaven and Snow could see from where she stood that a smattering of freckles covered his nose. There was a tool belt draped around the waistline of his jeans and he was holding a screwdriver.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He approached her and offered the hand that wasn’t holding the screwdriver.

Snow shook his hand and said, “That’s all right. I wasn’t expecting to hear a man’s voice.”

“I’m Hansel. I’m the handyman around here.”

“Snow.”

“The newest recruit, huh?”

“More like the newest prisoner.”

Hansel smiled. “It’s not so bad. Granny acts tough, but she’s got a heart of gold.”

“If you say so.”

Hansel aimed his screwdriver at the door. “I’m here to fix the doorknob.”

“Be my guest,” Snow said.

“Are you sure? I can come back after you’re settled.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Hansel grinned at her again. “Great.”

He opened the door and swept his arm across the threshold. “Ladies first.”

Snow thanked him and picked up her suitcase.

“Let me get that for you.” Hansel reached for her luggage but Snow yanked it away.

“I’ve got it, thanks.”

Hansel furrowed his brow but didn’t protest.

Snow wasn’t used to opulence or large living spaces, but this room was hardly bigger than a closet. A rickety white chair stuck out from beneath a desk fashioned from an old door that had been slathered with layers of paint. Shades of blue, pink, and mint green swirled across the edges where the white top coat had chipped. It was held up by four claw-footed legs that had likely come from an old dining table. There was a bed shoved up against the far wall below a small round window. It had been stripped of its comforts, leaving not even a pillow in sight. The walls were a dull grey color, the floor warped oak planks. Next to the desk was a closet. Snow set her belongings on the floor in front of it and peeked inside. The space was only about a foot deep and two feet wide. A single wire hanger hung limply from the bar.

Snow shoved the suitcase and her bag in the closet and shut the door. She turned to find Hansel working on the doorknob, his concentration aimed at his task. A small dresser with three drawers stood opposite the closet. It had no feet and was missing a few knobs, but at least it would serve to stash her things.

Snow didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. She settled on a heavy sigh and sat on the bare mattress.

Hansel looked over at her, his face open and honest. She sensed that he pitied her. She hated being pitied.

He stood abruptly and said, “You know, whenever I’m feeling blue, I find a lollipop helps.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cherry-red sucker and held it out to Snow.

She looked at him as if he were mad.

Hansel grinned, and Snow noticed his chin had a deep dimple. He waved the candy in her face.

“It’s a fact of life that you can’t be sad when you’re sucking on a lollipop. Give it a try.”

It was so absurd that Snow couldn’t resist. She accepted the sucker. “Thank you.”

“There’s more where that came from,” he told her. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth. Although most of the other, er, residents don’t eat candy. Watching their figures, I guess.”

Snow managed a small smile. “I appreciate your kindness, Hansel, but I’m awfully tired.”

Hansel smacked his forehead with his palm. “Of course. I’m all done here, so I’ll get out of your hair. If anything else needs fixing, you just let Granny know. She’ll get hold of me.”

Snow thought,
my life needs fixing
.
Do you have a magic wand in that tool belt?
Of course she didn’t dare say that. “I will. Thank you.”

Hansel smiled, tucked the screwdriver into his tool belt, and headed for the door. He stopped and turned toward Snow. “You know, you seem like a nice person. Just...” he tapped the doorway with his fingers. “…remember they can’t take that away from you.”

Snow watched Hansel leave wondering what in the world he meant by that.

She stood up and closed the door behind the handyman. Then she pulled out Granny’s house rules list and read.

5

Beauty and the Beast

Granny’s House Rules

1. No alcohol

2. No men

3. No horseplay

4. Complete all chores in a timely fashion

5. Do not be late for community service

6. Rooms must be kept tidy

7. No mirrors

8. Be on time for group therapy

9. Be on time for Sunday supper

10. No fighting

11. No foul language

12. Curfew is 9 pm

13. Stay out of areas marked “Do Not Enter”

14. Sleep in your designated room

15. Lights out by 10 pm

16. Clean the bathroom as indicated on the posted task list

17. No loud music

18. No visitors unless approved via the sign-up sheet at the designated hour

19. No books

20. Meet with your parole officer

Failure to comply with these rules will result in severe punishment. Three strikes will result in expulsion from Granny’s house.

Snow read the rest of the information on the rules sheet and noted the relevant times and dates. Sunday dinner was six o’clock sharp and all the girls were to contribute in the preparation, presentation, and conversation of the meal. There would be a notice posted every Saturday night with tasks assigned to each resident.

That didn’t sound so bad. Snow liked cooking, even cleaning, and she especially enjoyed making her surroundings beautiful. She looked around the dreary room that was her temporary home and wondered if she would be allowed to paint it—possibly hang some artwork or at least a curtain. Perhaps she would ask one of the other girls if that was permitted. She doubted she could make it as cozy and esthetically pleasing as her cottage, but anything was better than the depressing state of it now.

Her community service times were also noted on the sheet. Three afternoons a week at the local animal shelter. That was the best news she’d had all day. There would be no problem fulfilling those duties, she was certain. She wondered what the others had been tasked to do.

She set the sheet of paper on the desk and began to unpack. While most of the rules seemed fairly straightforward and reasonable, she couldn’t help but wonder about the ‘no books’ and ‘no mirrors’ rule. She wasn’t a vain woman, but it seemed odd to banish all looking glasses. And why no books? That was cruel and unusual punishment, especially with the atrocious selection of magazines in the parlor downstairs. Snow decided she would have to sneak in some reading time outside of the house. She suspected if she were to question Granny about any of her rules she would be met with hostility, and she didn’t need the grief. She would do her time, keep her nose out of trouble, and get through this as painlessly as possible.

Exhausted as she was, Snow decided she should search for a linen closet so that she could make her bed and take a nap. It was the first Friday in a long while that she didn’t have plans. Although now, it wouldn’t be the last.

She tucked her suitcase inside the closet and went to search for bedding.

The bathroom was located at the end of the long hallway. Snow stepped inside to wash up and see if she could find sheets and blankets. The room was painted a pale pink, and someone long ago had stenciled a border of cabbage roses and vines in a circular pattern over the sink where it seemed a mirror once hung. A mirror that was no longer there. The tile and the tub were the same shade of pink, although rust stains traced the path of water from the shower head all the way down to the drain.

There was a window on the far wall and Snow peered out of it. Below, she could see the faded outline of rows where a vegetable garden must have once been. There were garlic plants trying and failing to thrive, as well as chives and dill, but it hadn’t been cared for in quite some time. To her right, she spotted a lonely apple tree with a few sickly blossoms. This late in the summer, it should be hosting at least some small fruit.
What a waste of good land
, Snow thought. She imagined that Granny had grown too old or too arthritic to care for it, but she wondered why the old woman didn’t enlist the help of her charges to bring the garden—and what may once have been an orchard—back to life. Surely it would cut down on expenses.

A scream pierced the bathroom door and Snow ran outside to see who owned it. It was Punzie, still wearing the green sequined top, although now with a tight black skirt over the matching bottoms. She wore platform heels taller than any Snow had ever dared and she was wrestling with what looked like a tiger.

“Beast, let go right now!”

Punzie was standing at the end of the hallway near the stairs. The animal, Snow realized, who had tiger-like stripes in black, orange, and tan, was in fact a dog. The largest dog Snow had ever laid eyes on, with a head like a watermelon, paws like dinner plates and ears that poked the ceiling.

The dog tugged on Punzie’s braid, and Punzie tugged back.

“I mean it, Beast. Let. Go.”

Snow stood there, her mouth agape not sure what to do. Punzie was a bit more resourceful. She removed her shoe and threw it at the dog. It bounced off him like a rubber ball.

The dog growled, still holding on to the rope that was Punzie’s hair.

Snow rushed forward just as Punzie was about to remove her other shoe. “Wait, don’t hurt him.”

Punzie glared at her. “Do I
look
like I’m hurting him? He’s about to eat my head, for fuck’s sake!”

Rule number eleven. No foul language
. Snow didn’t want to see anyone get in trouble. “Maybe I can help.”

“See if Bella’s here. She’s the only one that can tame Beast.”

Snow didn’t know who Bella was, nor where to begin looking for her, but she had a better plan of action.

She calmly walked over to the dog. Punzie was dangerously close to the edge of the stairs, and she knew if Beast let go the woman would tumble down them, especially now that she was off kilter wearing only one shoe.

“Stop pulling, Punzie. He thinks it’s a game. If you give up, so will he.”

Beast slid a sideways look at Snow as if she had just given away his best-kept secret.

“If I stop pulling, he’s going to chew my braid off. Have you seen the size of his teeth? I can’t lose my bread and butter.”

Snow bent down and whispered in the dog’s ear. “How about I get you a nice bone to chew on. Would you like that?”

Beast’s left ear twisted sideways, aimed at Snow. She could sense his hesitation. He was considering it. “Let go of the rope and I’ll get you a nice bone. And perhaps we can play fetch afterward.”

Beast grunted and gave Punzie’s braid another tug.

“Great plan, Princess.” Punzie pulled back. “How about you let go, Beast, and I won’t chop your nuts off.”

“Punzie, stop pulling. I’m telling you he’ll stop if you do,” Snow said. To Beast she said, “I’ll throw in a nice long walk too.”

The dog was a tough negotiator, but that did the trick. Snow could feel Beast relenting. Unfortunately, Beast was smarter than Punzie who gave her braid one last yank just as Beast let go.

As the hazel eyed woman tumbled down the stairs, shouting obscenities the entire time, Snow was certain she saw the dog smile. He sat down.

“We’ll talk about this later,” she scolded Beast. He pinned his ears back and lowered his head. 

Snow hurried down the stairs to see if Punzie was all right.

She reached out to help her housemate peel herself off the floor. “Are you hurt?”

Punzie’s response was, “I’m fine, no thanks to you.” She examined her bruised hip as Snow rushed back up the stairs to retrieve the shoe. Beast was holding it hostage in his mouth.

“Drop.” Snow said and Beast obliged.

She rushed down the stairs and handed Punzie the slobber-covered heel.

Punzie held onto the railing as she slipped the shoe on her foot, testing out her ankle. It looked swollen.

“That may be sprained,” Snow said.

“It better not be or the asshole I work for will make me do lap dances all night.” Punzie rubbed her shoulder where another bruise was forming. “And then I
will
cut your nuts off, Beast, you hear me?”

Beast chortled.

“I tried to help,” Snow said.

Punzie sighed. “Look, Princess, I get that you’re trying to fit into this house of horrors, but we all pretty much do our own thing around here. So don’t make nicey-nice, don’t  suck up to Granny, and don’t think we’ll be braiding each other’s hair, okay? This isn’t fairytale land.”

Snow put her hands up. “Fine.”

Punzie grunted. Then she hobbled out the door to what Snow assumed was her job as a stripper.

After a long talk with Beast, who she discovered was Bella’s dog, Snow made good on her promises. They walked, they played a few rounds of fetch with a log he found in the back yard, and afterwards she gave him a bone the size of a dinosaur leg she found in the shed near the weed-choked garden. Then Snow White, completely spent from the day’s drama, fell fast asleep in a bed that still had no linens.

That night, she dreamed of a dark forest and a man brandishing a sharp ax.