The Folklore of the (hacked) Paradise
Episode 1 : Questions in Answer to the Question
Chapter 1: The Girl in the Tower
She opened her eyes to the sight of a ceiling covered in floral designs interrupted by patches where plaster was chipping off. She continued to lay for a while, not in particular wondering at it or anything else for that matter until her mind set in motion as if from a prolonged sabbatical — creaky, jerky, unlubricated. As she followed the patterns of the creepers leading to large, almost gigantic dandelions & lilies, suddenly thoughts started pouring into her mind. “Where am I?”, was the first question and as she noticed that she lay on soft satin sheets, with a down feather pillow, and a soft blanket over her, the next question “How long have I been sleeping?” popped up. She slowly sat herself up, and sights from around the room overwhelmed her.
The room was circular with walls made of large grey stones, besides a square window and a skylight there lay no other gaps in those walls. The room looked largely empty, besides a large chair on one side, some rolled up sheets of paper gathering dust, a little table on which lay a clock, a cup with no handle a crooked saucer, a little hourglass and what looked like a small hand-held mirror. “What is this place?”, she wondered, beginning to feel a little alarmed.
She got off the bed, and gently placed her feet on the stone floor — it felt cold and ticklish. Clearly, it had been a while since she had set foot on the ground. She tried hard but could not recollect any memory from the time when she had last been awake!
She looked around the room again, and noticed hiding in a dark corner, a wardrobe. Laying her blanket down on the floor, she gently stepped on it and walked towards the wardrobe. Inside it lay an array of stuff — a dress, some blankets, bedsheets, boots & slippers. Everything looked rather elegant and pretty, even the slippers, a pretty white pair adorned with pink flowers on the side. She put them on and walked over to the little table to look at herself in the mirror. As she turned it around, against the dark backdrop of the room, she saw the reflection of a woman, with pale skin, light delicate features, deep blue eyes, and auburn thick hair. She still did not know who she was, but now she knew for sure that she was beautiful.
The sight outside the window terrified her, as she realized she was cooped on top of a high tower and stretching miles into the horizon lay nothing but dense green forest. She had to find a way out of the tower, for whoever left her here, it did not feel safe to wait for his return. She looked back into the room and realized it had no door, the window was the only exit possible, but it was too high up to jump. She noticed the thick ivy and rose creepers covering the walls and wondered. As she tugged at them, they remained clinging steadfast to the wall, this could work but she would need more reinforcement. She went back to the wardrobe and pulled out the curtains and bedsheets and made an upholstered rope of them. Tying one end to her bedpost, she dropped the other end outside the window. She went back to the wardrobe, took out a shawl, the dress and a pair of walking boots and changed in them.
Exhausted by the activity, she sat on the bed for a few moments but then not wishing to lose any more daylight, she climbed on to the bed and from there to the windowsill.
“I can’t believe this was how it was intended to be…a damsel scaling down the wall of a tower with a rope made of upholstery”.
She took a deep breath and let go of the windowsill, now hanging by the rope and her boots planted firmly into the creepers. As everything held steady, she slowly started inching down. Fresh breeze brushed against her skin, the fragrance from the swaying roses welcomed her, her boots firmly dug into nooks of the stones and strong sturdy parts of the creepers, her palms firmly grasping at the curtains and the bedsheets, slowly she made her way down. Halfway down, fear gave way to thrill, the heaviness from the chest and hollowness in the pit of her stomach eased, she plucked a rose from the creeper and placed it in her braid. The last few feet from the ground had to be jumped off, there was no more rope left. She steadied herself and jumped landing on all fours. Brushing off the dirt from her hands she walked across the wild garden, towards the trees which bore fruits, in shades of red and green. She reached out for the ruby red one and as she bit into it, juice from the sweet fruit trickled down from the sides of her mouth. She took another big bite and felt the crunchy fruit and its sweet juice filling up the gnawing emptiness of her stomach. As she hungrily devoured the fruit in large chunks, a piece stuck to her throat and almost made her choke. She quickly coughed and as the piece dislodged from her throat, she felt relieved. “Oh, Lord, this is so delicious. It should be forbidden to eat it!”. She plucked a few more of them and tied them up at one end of her shawl.
The tower stood within a fruit orchard which lay untended and wild. The orchard was secured from all sides with a stone wall which had so much moss on it that it looked like a tall hedge — the wall must have a gate, she wondered. As if someone heard her, her eyes fell on a spot in the hedge that looked lighter than the rest. Coming closer to it, she noticed an opening covered with dense grass and creepers . She made way through the dense green wondering what sight would welcome her beyond it. A few steps forward before things got clear, they got much denser, she felt her foot getting stuck in a tangle of branches, the creepers tugging at her hair and the grass felt like damp fingers clutching at her. She could not wait to get out of it, not wanting to be held back in that barren loneliness.
Beyond the hedge lay a forest, as she expected, she had seen it from the window in the tower. As she stood in the stillness of the forest, she wondered which way to go. It could take her days, nay weeks to cross these miles of forest, with only a few apples to survive on and legs which did not know how long they will last. As she stood there for a minute in contemplation, she figured that she had only seen one side of the forest from the tower, and that side was miles of forest for sure. What lay on the other side, would be a hopeful gamble.
She set her foot towards the West side and slowly started walking into the forest. The forest was dense and aside from the sounds of cricket and an occasional owl, it lay silent. She knew she had to get somewhere before dusk, but there was no telling how far that somewhere would be. Glad to have worn practical boots, she felt the choice of the dress was however an unfortunate one, it was heavy and kept tripping her every few yards.
It was impossible to tell how much she had walked or for how long, but she did feel a little tired and even in the cold surrounds, pearls of sweat appeared on her forehead. A little way ahead she heard a gurgling sound, possibly from a stream or a brook She made her way towards it. The brook was a sight for sore eyes, she sat beside it and drank a few large gulps of water, and then washed her face and neck in it. As she sat in the serene surrounding catching her breath, she noticed a sudden eerie silence fell on the brook. As she looked at it, right before her eyes it appeared as if someone or something was interrupting the flow of the water. She quickly looked around her, but there was no one there, not even a gush of wind to cause it. Startled she looked back at the brook and noticed strange symbols appearing on them. As her eyes strained on the symbols, her mind magically deciphered them — etched across the water surface was “No man ever crosses the same river twice….but you shall”. Standing alone in the middle of the forest, she suddenly felt like someone was watching her. Stuck by panic, she rushed her way across the stream and ran away from it. She must have run for several minutes before she paused, only to realize that she was now feeling rather faint. She sat down by a tree and decided to eat some more fruit. Between bites of the heavenly fruit, unfamiliar sound appeared. As the sound persisted, she fearfully looked in the direction it came from, and was thankful to be met by a pleasant sight of a horse grazing nearby. Did someone lose this horse, she wondered? She looked around in hope that someone would come to claim it and help her in the process, but no one did. She got up feeling decidedly better and walked ahead, to her surprise the horse followed her. She took another few steps, and so did the horse. Finally, she turned around and looked directly at the horse, he lowered his head and placed his muzzle on her shoulder. She stood there for a while, contemplating, and then decided to give it a try. She held tight at the reigns, checked if the saddle was firmly mounted and then heaved herself on the back of the horse. It felt surprisingly easy, somehow as if she had muscle memory of this act. Reassured from her ability to get on the horse, she decided to give riding it a try. As she patted his hind leg and tugged at the reign, the horse started galloping forward, slow at first and then gathering momentum. Before she knew it, her body automatically took to the rhythm of the horse’s movements and she was riding as if she had been doing so since forever.
As the horse galloped down the wilderness of the forest, the wind cut coldly across her face and ran its fingers through her hair. The forest continued to look unchanged, dense trees stretching ahead, grass, moss and weeds covering the ground and the same sounds of crickets and wind.
CHAPTER 2 : The Three “Blind” Mice
Right around sunset she managed to reach the edge of the forest, beyond it lay a grassy meadow and a little hamlet. Having ridden for hours through the forest, this place felt like a far-away land. She dismounted the horse and made her way across the meadow towards the cobbled streets of the village. The village was quaint and charming with cottages set in pretty gardens, smoke rising out of their chimneys and little picket fences separating cottages, each looking alike. Deep into the village, the sounds of crickets were replaced with that of cheering, music, and clapping. As she walked to the end of the street, she felt anxious at the thought of coming face to face with people!
At the end of the street lay an open area, a square space, at the middle of which lay a large fountain around which sat a group of men — all dressed alike in white shirts, beige trousers held up by suspenders, and check hats. Some men sang, some played instruments, some danced, and some did all three but not very well. Little boys and girls ran around the fountain playing catch. Around the square, there appeared to be a little marketplace, a chocolatier, a bakery, a cobbler, an antique store, couple of grocery stores, flower shops, pawn shops, a barber, a beauty salon & a tavern. In the dim light of the twilight, she could see a lady walking across the square with a torch, lighting up all the lamps in the square. The flame flickered but held strong in the wind, the nip in the air was getting icy now and the group of men disbanded from their merry evening — a few of them called out to their kids, those who defiantly ignored their father’s calls, got hurled abuses and promises of tight hidings. The kids ran into the various streets, while the men made their way towards the tavern for their evening drinks.
Cold and shivering, she made her way towards the tavern — through its windows she could see a brightly lit fire by the side, warm lamps hanging from the ceiling and piles of food coming in from the kitchen. She held out her hand to open the door but got interjected. On a little wooden stool guarding the gate sat three mice. Each one with a little walking stick, a tiny hat and black shades covering their eyes.
“Hello miss. Where do you think you are going?”, said one of them.
She looked down at them, unsure if she was dreaming or were mice supposed to be talking?
“Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
“Cat? Where? Where?”, gasped the other mouse and fell off the bench in start
“Shut up, Thaddeus. There is no cat around.”
“Then why did you say “Cat”. You know it spooks me, Leland”, responded Thaddeus offended
“It’s a figure of speech you idiot. Man up, for once.”, responded Leland, in a bossy tone
At his brother’s innuendo, Thaddeus immediately straightened his back, puffed his chest — manned up and in a deliberately deep voice asked the woman by the door
“Yeah lady. Cat got your tongue? What do you want?”
“Uhm”, she cleared her throat, “I..I am not sure…but are mice supposed to be talk?”
“Huh”, all three brothers look up at her in horror, “Yeah. Why not? You never heard a mouse before?” asked Leland
“She is a woman. They talk more, listen less.”, responded Thaddeus. Leland and Thaddeus laughed, the third one just granted a smile lazily and dozed off.
She looked offended.
“It’s a pub, lady. Women not allowed in.”, Leland says firmly.
“Why?”
“What do you mean Why?”.
“Gentlemen, I am cold, tired and very hungry. I must seek refuge. I cannot stay out in the cold, now can I?”
The three mice look vexed. A pub was not a place for a woman to get into. Unable to deal with the peculiarity of the situation, they decided to ignore her. But as soon as she tried to make her way in again, Leland prevented her.
“You cannot go in miss. Women don’t drink at pubs”
“I don’t wish to drink. I wish to seek work in exchange of roof at the Tavern”
Upon hearing this, Thaddeus seemed to suddenly lose his mind, he jumped off the bench and started randomly running around in circles, as if chasing his own tail.
“Look what you have done to my brother. You are causing him anxiety.”, cried Leland
“What did I do?” she asked perplexed
“Miss, women don’t work”, tired of all this chatter, the third brother finally chipped in. Behind him through the glass panes, she could see a lady behind the bar counter pouring out mugs of beer for tipsy sailors.
“What about her?” she said to Leland pointing at the lady
Leland threw a cursory glance in, and looked back at her, “What about her?”
“You said women don’t work. She is working.”
He looked irritated “Crazy”
“Well…If you cannot explain, then you must let me in. I shall speak to that lady myself. Thank you”
And before Leland could think of a befitting reply, she had entered the pub.
CHAPTER 3 : The Lady at the Tavern
The warmth of the tavern felt like a welcoming embrace, but not the sights of befuddled men who now stared at her. She took off her shawl and in contrast to what she felt in the woods, her choice of shoes now felt unfortunate while she was glad for the dress she was in. The sight of her startled the lady behind the counter, but she was quick to disguise it. She beckoned at her and thrust her an apron.
“Would you get started on those glasses, if you please?”, she said, pointing to a pile of glasses in the sink.
“What’s your name, lassie?”
“Huh?”
“I am Aunt Gertrude, everyone calls me Auntie. What about you?”
She stared blankly at Aunt Gertrude –plump, flaming red hair, freckled skin with wrinkles beyond her age, a face that wore bold features like the large mole by her stodgy nose, a wide toothy mouth and a twinkle in the eyes that disclosed her mischievous bright nature. Aunt Gertrude in turn stared back at her in a manner which felt like she was reading something inside of her.
“What’s your name beautiful” came a slurry voice from the side. She turned her gaze from Auntie to now a middle aged, bald, man, unkempt, potbellied with a smile so disturbing that she knew not if to return it.
She stared blankly at him, part not knowing what to respond and part how to deal with such a situation.
“That’s Rose — my help.”, came Auntie to the rescue.
“Ah, pretty. Just as a Rose”, he slurred as saliva leaked from the side of his mouth.
“Whaaat?! Why she is pale as pasty flour, no colour man.”, cried Auntie
“Well, I like her.” His eyes still fixed at her, now making “Rose” rather uncomfortable.
“Ya, now that aint gonna be so when ya know she is a-chumming, mister”, quipped Auntie firmly
That broke his lusty gaze, he gave a disgusted frown and stumbled back to his mates.
“Rose?”, she smiled looking back at Auntie.
“Hey lassie, that’s all I got going in my head — I see that rose in your hair and burnt colour of ya hair. I say to meself, yeah she be a Rose or a Burn…. Rose was a kinder”, and while she said it all warmly, that look of puzzlement didn’t leave her eyes.
A gush of cold wind blew in as the tavern door opened and in walked two gentlemen. Auntie looked up at the new arrivals, paused for a few seconds and then turned to Rose.
“Eh, lassie, you leave them glasses to me. You go and get yourself some soup in the kitchen. Gotta’ get some colour on those pale cheeks, you!”
Surprised at this sudden offer, but grateful nonetheless, Rose grateful left for the kitchen.
“Hey Arnie. Long time no see. You forgot your old Auntie!”, Auntie cried out. The leaner, shorter looking gentleman broke into a smile and hugged auntie from across the counter.
“No Aunty. Been to town on business. Let me present to you Prince of Danmork, Charming!”
“Ah, your friend?”
“Ah no.. Aunty I escort the prince. He arrives into our village only but this moment. He is enroute on his journey. He spends the night here while his horses rest and then continues”
“Ah, welcome Prince.” She bowed in gratitude, “Here I pour you some of my finest rum. Warms your tummy and your heart”
“Thank you, Auntie.”
“Do you stay here a while Prince?”
“I must halt for a day. My horse must be reshoed, and get some rest.”
“Do you travel from far?”
“Yes all the way from Kobenhavn,” Auntie gasps in surprise at the answer
“And do you go far?”
“A few scores & yards for sure. But I have some way to go, my compass and map tells me two days and a quarter eastwards.”
Running out of conversation, and busy with too much work, she decided to drift him to others “Ahhh, you travelers. You see so many lands, you drink from many-a river, you slay lambs who graze on grass so varied, how charming is thy existence. You deserve to get some rest and time of humor and jovial. Me be glad to put thy highness in company of men of honour and jovial in the village.”
Auntie let out a piercing whistle and from a remote end of the tavern, someone in a fedora and cowboy boots juggling three forks and two spoons for the amusements of the guests, bowed to mark the stop of the act, collected the pennies & rushed to the counter stealthily.
“Prince, This is Puss”, the cat clicked the boots and with a tip of the hat bowed at the Prince
“Puss, meet Prince Charming of Danmork. Take him along to the bridge table. Ill send along a keg for you and the fellas to share, Prince”
Puss escorted the Prince to the village men. As the keg followed, the men cheered and nodded approvingly at the Prince. They all filled their mugs and sang “He is a jolly good fellow..”
As the night proceeded, the noise levels rose, each one became a note higher in their voice, laughed a tad bit louder on the jokes and sang at a pitch more feverish than before. Aunt Gertrude looked at the clock, it was an hour to midnight. It was clearly going to be a long night, the Prince’s arrival had pumped adrenaline in weary dull veins of these village men. There was no closing the pub for next couple of hours.
Puss arrived back and made self comfortable on the counter.
“Here lovely. This one’s for you — get yourself some jewelry”, said Puss imitating an air of a haughty gentleman tossing a gold coin on a grateful maiden.
Auntie looked at Puss with mischief, “You fleeced that of the poor Prince, now did ya?! Now, that’s not very lady-like, is that ma Puss?”. Her eyes sparkled as she pinched a raw nerve of Puss’
Puss scowled, clicked her boots, and got off the bar counter. She tipped her hat at Auntie
“I bid you good night mistress”, and left with an air of dignity.
Auntie got back to clearing the bar counter. She then went into the kitchen where Rose was helping the scullery maid clean up.
“Hey lassie. What ya going that stuff for? You leave that to ma maid. You gotsa be tired”
“Can I stay here Auntie? I have nowhere to go, I can learn and help at the tavern.”
Auntie looked at her, with a look of care & concern. Rose could sense it, but was glad that Auntie asked her no questions, for she had no answers.
“Ya, ma lassie. Of course. You sleep here in the attic, it’s got a nice little couch, fit you well it will. And some shelves for your clothes and a basin to wash your arms and face in.”
The lassie looks relieved and grateful.
“Now, now you must be tiring. Here, you go up there into the attic and catch some sleep.”
“Thanks, Auntie. But I’ll stay and help Sally clean up. I don’t need sleep. I have been sleeping for long.”
EPISODE 2: https://readmedium.com/the-folklore-of-the-hacked-paradise-3e649e8317a9
