A Fairy Tale in Four Parts

I love fairy tales. They are the kind of stories that you read and think, "Huh, that was weird," and then continue on your way wondering why Disney is always making movies about fairy tales. Later, you're surprised to find yourself dwelling on it and you think, "Huh, that's weird," and, again, you continue on your way, this time wondering why the fairy tale you were told as a kid isn't the same as the one you recently read. Then, much later, maybe even years later, you find yourself thinking about it again and again. It haunts you (but not in a bad way...usually). It's like the fairy tale is a child shyly peeking out from behind the legs of some of your most looming memories and emotions; the ones that form a backdrop to your identity like the set design of a play. And the fairy tale whispers to you, but you can never quite make out what it's saying, never quite see it clearly. It never ceases to amaze me how disconcerting these deceptively simple stories can be. 

A page from my journal concerning fairy tales.

I wanted to have some fun and try writing in a completely different genre and style than I'm comfortable with. So why not a fairy tale? Besides, I thought it would be interesting to try and see if I could create that disconcerting effect I mentioned. I ended up with four fairy tales. I decided to share at least one of them on this blog. Because of its length, I broke it into four parts. I hope it entertains, inspires, and haunts you (in a good way...mostly).

Truenda (Part One)

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Truenda who was prone to mischief. She lived in a in a castle in the middle of a forest with her loving father and older brother. One night, when she was still much too young to be outside on her own, she slipped out of the castle on feet as silent as a moth. It was the first time she had ever seen the broad expanse of the starry night sky and she was awestruck. She looked up and wondered at the stars and then she wondered at the spaces between the stars. So entranced was she, that she immediately fell in love with the empty darkness she saw there.

Night after night, Truenda slipped out of the castle and looked longingly up at the vast emptiness and, after a while, the vast emptiness got inside of her so that she ached always with hollowness and hunger. One night, her chest ached with so much hollowness that she left her bed and climbed up onto the roof of the castle. From the top of the roof she reached as high as she could and still she could not touch the darkness. She looked and saw that there was a chimney that was still taller, so she climbed onto it and, wobbling slightly, stood up and reached for the spaces between the stars. She stretched out so much that she started to totter over and would have fallen if not for her older brother. He had heard her climb onto the roof and followed, catching her just before she would have plummeted to the ground.

The next night, the ache was back and the hunger was as intense as ever. Truenda slipped out of the castle again and wandered into the forest. She found the tallest tree she could and climbed to the top where the branches were small and flimsy. From the very top, she reached out for the spaces between the stars and thought that this time she just might reach it, when the branch she was standing on broke and down she fell. She would have certainly died if not for her older brother who had seen her sneak out and followed her. He caught her just before she hit the ground and took her safely home. 

The third night, the ache was worse than ever. Unable to bear it any longer, she crept from the castle in hopes of finding a way to grasp the darkness and fill the hole in her chest. She did not know where she was going or how she was going to do it, but the forest looked much darker than the cheerful lights of the castle so that is where she went. She wandered long into the night, deeper and deeper into the forest, and just when she was about to give up and go back home, she heard a voice ask, “What are you doing out here wandering in the forest so late at night little girl?”

Startled, Truenda looked about until she saw a black cat materialize out of the shadows. “I have fallen in love with the darkness between the stars,” Truenda told the cat, “and, since I cannot reach it, the emptiness has gotten inside of me and drives me from my bed aching with hollowness and hunger.”

“Ah,” said the cat, “I know how you can not only reach the darkness, but drink it up and fill the emptiness inside you.”

“How?” asked Truenda.

“Not far from here is a cave,” said the cat. “Deep within the cave is a well where the spaces between the stars drip down and pool up. There you can reach out, cup the darkness in your hand, and drink your fill.”

“Will you show me the way?” asked Truenda.

“I will lead you there,” said the cat, “but first you must pluck out your eyes. You can only follow the path to the cave if you cannot see the way back to your home.”

End of Part One.

I'll post Part Two tomorrow.