Roses and Black Glass: a dark Cinderella tale (7 page)

“Of course. 
Step away.”

“I beg your
pardon?” Cindy asked with a shake of her head.

“Just step
back against the wall a moment.  Then we will begin,” Amanda promised.

Cindy was
hesitant about this. What was this strange woman asking her to do?  Skeptical,
though curious, Cindy consented to step closer to the wall, without directly
hugging it.  Amanda smiled at her uncertainty.

The woman
turned to face the window, looking out over the open ground.  A fog hung in the
air on this gloomy day, shielding the sun.  This appeared to be no problem to
the black-eyed woman, who stood without diversion in the room’s center.

Cindy watched
for a moment, wondered what she was doing.  She had a ritual to perform before
she sorted beans?  It was a tradition of hers to take in fresh air from the
window before doing a task?  It made no sense to Cindy. 

She was almost
ready to protest this entire action, but then something caught her ears.  As
she listened, the sound began to get louder.  She let her eyes trail to the
window.  The sound was at first nothing more than a light fluttering sound, but
it was now developing into a menacing hum.

Cindy directed
her eyes back to Amanda, who stood with her hands together in front of her,
eyes closed. The woman moved her mouth in a strange way, mumbling something
that Cindy couldn’t hear. The girl wished to step away from the wall to peer
out at the disturbance, but her legs were locked by fear.  The humming became
louder and louder until a strange wind began to blow through the window,
tossing Cindy’ hair.  She would have cried for the woman to stop were it not
for her interest, yet her fear kept her in place.

Soon, she
heard the screeching as well.  The calls ripped through the air, reaching the her
ears.  As she watched, she saw a small black object drift into the house by way
of the slowly growing wind.  She finally recognized the object as a black
feather which took its time, drifting leisurely to the floor.

As soon as the
feather landed softly on the floorboards, a gust blew into Cindy’s eyes and no
less than one hundred ravens burst through the kitchen window, lighting upon
the floor as Cindy’s hair and dress were tossed by the air of their fluttering
wings.  The ravens called out unyieldingly, filling the house with their
voices.

Not sure what
to think, Cindy stared at the birds, her knees locked.  What was going on here?
 What sort of witchcraft was this?  Looking on in shock, the birds began
scratching at the ground, eating the beans she had worked so hard to spread.

“No!” she
shouted. “Make them stop!”

Amanda simply
looked around as some of the birds lit upon her.  The birds would not stay on
the ground, but sat a moment and then hopped up to fly around the room before
they would land again.

Cindy was
beginning to wonder how she might drive them away, but after only a few minutes
passed, the birds all removed themselves from the floor and began to flood back
out the window.  As soon as the last birds left, Cindy shot to the open panes,
leaning out and looking to where the flock was headed back to.  Strangely, the
hundred ravens which had formed a black peppery cloud were nowhere to be seen.

Cindy turned
abruptly and angrily towards the woman who stood there in the middle of the
floor.  Amanda simply looked at her with a smile of innocence.

“What were you
thinking?” she cried. “The beans-!”

Looking down
at the floor, her eyes narrowed in mystification as noticed the bean sack.  She
had emptied it herself, but now it was full again.  Bending down, Cindy picked
up a handful of the beans and examined them – no rotting beans fell among them.
 Only the fresh ones were left.  The birds had picked them clean and put the
good ones back in place.

“How did you
do that?” asked Cindy, her anger fading into confusion.

“So, do you
believe now?” the woman asked victoriously. “That nothing is impossible?”

Cindy shook
her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

Amanda smiled.
“I will explain it all to you, now that you are ready to believe.  After your
sisters and step-mother leave this house tonight, I will tell you what you
truly wish to know.”

Amanda turned
her back and made her way to the door, stopping abruptly to turn, throwing her
voice into the room.

“Put some of
the beans back onto the floor as though you haven’t gone through many.  Do not
tell your family that you have finished.  There will be much to do after they
are gone and the time must not be cluttered with busy-work.  Finish all of your
other duties before they return.”

With those
words, Amanda walked away from the kitchen, leaving Cindy to prepare the sorted
beans and to ponder what the woman could be speaking of.  Cindy could indeed
think of many questions to which she wanted answers.  Perhaps the woman would
have them for her.

3

Four long
hours… 
This was how long it took to ready her sisters.  The time was split
between the two, each seeming to need more help than the other.  Cindy hardly
said anything throughout the time, tying up her sisters’ hair and strapping
them into their dresses with bodice strings pulled as tightly as possible. 
Though it was hard work, Cindy actually found it funny to listen to her
sisters’ griping and criticism.  It put the girl in good spirits.

Occasionally
she would mess the girls up and have to start over, but the extra time was
worth it to hear her sisters’ worried voices about the event.  It was almost
too funny for Cindy to keep inside, but she managed to do so for fear that they
would try to give her more work.

Finally, the
girls were prepared, along with their mother, and were ready to depart, having
rented a carriage for the evening with elegant white horses.  Isabella was
dressed in a champagne-colored dress with a bodice embedded with gemstones. Her
hair was half up and half down, spilling over her shoulders in ringlets and
accentuated by a lovely head ornament, the same color as her dress. Charlotte
was dressed in light cream. The outfit was brought together with lace gloves
and shoes with fancy buttons, topped off with a hair ornament of gold and
diamonds.  Both girls looked lovely, though Cindy wouldn’t want to admit it.  As
her sisters paraded themselves to the door, Amanda walked in from downstairs.

“My my!  What
lovely girls these are, madam,” she said to Anna.

“Thank you,
Miss Jefferson,” she said proudly.

Anna directed
her gaze to Cindy. “My servant girl will aid your every need.  She has nothing
else
to do tonight.”

Amanda bowed
slightly. “You are too kind, madam.”

With a proud
smile, Anna led her daughters out of the house and down the hill to the
elaborate carriage that awaited them. Cindy closed the door behind them and
looked back to Amanda.

“Did you
finish your chores as I instructed?” the woman asked hurriedly.

“I did.  Now
you must answer my questions,” Cindy said, crossing her arms.

“Very well,”
began the woman. “My true name is Cassandra, but you shall call me nothing
other than
Amanda
.  I knew your father and your mother, and they asked
me when you were just a baby if I would take responsibility for their child in
the untimely event of their death.  I have come here for you, to help you and
reveal things to you. I must, however, make the condition that you do not speak
anything that you have seen of me.”

“Because you
are a witch,” Cindy confirmed boldly.  She knew it in her heart that this was
true.

Amanda put her
finger to her lips slyly.  “We must not utter that word,” she instructed. “Now,
down to business.  Let’s talk about your young man.”

Cindy stared back
in disbelief, somewhat insulted.  “Is that what you have come all the way here
to speak with me about?  My
young man
?”

“Do you love
him?” Amanda asked, her eyes flashing with interest.

“I hardly know
him!” Cindy protested. “And he isn’t mine.”

“But there is
something there, isn’t there?  You feel it.  Don’t you?”

Cindy stood in
silence, bringing up her thoughts about Christian.  Of course she had felt
something for him.  They were the same.  There was a kindred spirit between
them.  She shook her head.

“Why does it
matter?  It’s not as though I could burst into the party and confess my
feelings.  How could I expect him to feel the same – for a servant girl, no
less?  He hardly knows me.”

“You’re
curious though,” Amanda stated, feeling the presence in her.  “You wonder what
he would say.”

“How could I
go there?  I would make myself into a fool,” she said, lowering her head.

“You’d only be
a fool not to try,” Amanda said. “I have seen things that you could not guess,
and I tell you that if you do not go tonight and make an impact on his life,
you will be condemned to work in your sister’s household as she claims the Charming
name.  You will be forced to wait on her and even to clean the sheets of the
marriage bed.  Your face will be scarred once, and then once more by your
jealous sister to hide your identity from her husband.  No matter how you might
wish for it, you can never tell young Mr. Charming that it is you, and he will
never recognize you.  As the years go by, he will forget about you until he
accepts his unhappiness – and murders himself.  Does that sound like something
that would make you happy?”

Cindy closed
her eyes in pain.  “These event you have just told me – they will surely
happen?” she asked.

“If you do not
make an impact,” said Amanda. “Which means, if you do not go tonight, these
things
will
surely happen.”

“So you are
telling me that I must go?  How am I to do that?  I have nothing to wear and no
way of getting there!”

“Dear child,
still you question me?” asked Amanda with a shake of her head. “I have the
power to send you there, but you must bring me eleven red roses from the garden
and I will need the blood of a venomous snake.”

“And what are
you to do with those things?” Cindy asked, horrified.

“Retrieve them
and I will show you,” Amanda promised.

Taking a deep
breath, but unable to hide her curiosity, Cindy pulled open the door to head
out into the garden. 
Eleven red roses…
She hoped she could find that
many in the unattended garden.      

4

Cindy looked
throughout the garden, seeking any roses that may have survived the autumn
weather.  Roses were good in the cold, but most plants in the garden were dying
from neglect.  She alone simply wasn’t enough to care for everything.  It was
hard enough keeping the house looking decently clean.  Luckily, a large gate
and stone wall hid the grounds from public view.

Walking to the
south garden wall where the roses grew, Cindy was discouraged to see the wall
covered with dead vines which held sharp, petrified thorns.  She peered around,
distraught at the realization that there were no flowers at all in the garden.  Her
heart fell at her failure.  Perhaps there was something else Amanda could use
as an alternative.

Turning to go,
a small fleck of color happened to cross the girl’s eye.  She turned back,
examining the spot until finally she reached her hand to it.  Enveloped in a
mass of brown vines, a deep red color made its presence known.  Pulling away at
the vines, she cut her finger on one of the sharp thorns but did not stop.  Wincing,
she continued her work, removing the vines until more color emerged.

After a bit of
work, a deep red rose was revealed to her and she quickly took it in her hand.  She
plucked it and ran the fragrant blossom under her nose, drawing out the scent.  The
flower smelled as fresh as if it had just bloomed.

Looking back
to the spot where she had removed it, she saw more red color peeking out at
her.  Ripping more vines away and accepting more cuts and pricks, more roses
let themselves be seen.  She plucked them quickly, as though they might
disappear, and when she gathered what was surely all of them, she counted.

Eleven… 
One short of a dozen.

Cindy looked
over the roses that rested in her apron.  As she looked, there was something
else she noticed.  The rose petals were the same color as the blood rolling
down her hands.  When her blood touched the rose, the color blended together
perfectly.

Finally
tearing herself away from the thought, she made her way back to the kitchen
where Amanda was waiting for her.  When she entered, she nearly dropped the
flowers at the sight before her.  Amanda had dumped a copperhead snake upon the
table.  In her hands, she held two knives and her large black eyes were empty,
as though she was not present inside her body.

The snake
hissed as it crawled across the surface, trying to get away.  In a fast
movement, Amanda struck down with the knife, catching the snake straight
through its head of soft cartilage.

The serpent
writhed as its nerves began to buckle in death. The knife in the woman’s other
hand came down and sliced the snake into two even pieces. Cindy watched,
absorbed as the blood spilled across the table and began to drip off the edge
and onto the floor.

“Bring the
roses now!” Amanda commanded, waving the girl nearer with a blank stare.

Cindy was
hesitant, but obeyed nonetheless.  She dropped the roses hurriedly into the
blood and quickly stepped back.  Amanda moved her hands over the flowers and
began to breathe deeply.

“It is
coming,” she said, closing her eyes.  “Hold out your arms, Cindy, and embrace
what is yours.”

Cindy held her
hands out to the sides obediently, though unsure of what she should expect.  As
she looked on at the table, the stems of the roses dried and disintegrated,
leaving only the blood red petals.  Amanda began to move her mouth slowly and
speak in a tongue that was unknown to Cindy.  As she chanted, the petals rose
from the table and began to spin through the air in the gentle circles of a
whirlwind.