The Blessing

           If you've been reading the postings up until this point then you've definitely noticed a trend towards unbelievable supernatural insights (or psychosis, depending upon your point of view relating to the author's sanity).  This story was written as an example of a fairy tale for my Creative Writing class and might seem out of step with the other postings here until one realizes that my purpose in writing the story was to introduce my students to the idea of karmic responsibility.  At one time I renamed the story "Karma" but after sharing it with a class of 10th graders I found that there were some Fundamentalist parents who took offense at the name and the topic of karma in general.  After that, it was back to "The Blessing."

          I find it funny that anyone can complain about and deny the possibility of karma, but they won't be able to ESCAPE IT when the time comes to pay the piper.

Once upon a time there was a princess, not that this is such an unusual way to start a story, but this was a very SPECIAL princess.  Usually fairy tales start with wonderful, kind and generous girls, who are born into unfortunate circumstances and then are forced to endure an evil stepmother or the loss of their father or some such thing, all the while keeping their reputation and their character sterling, shiny and clean.

            This fairy tale doesn't start with THAT sort of princess.

            Maybelle means "The Belle of May," which is supposed to be a name of joy and celebration.  It seemed like such a wonderful choice for a child’s name, and it was, before she could talk, that is, well, no, there were some concerns even before then – well, OK, she was DIFFERENT right from the start, although the king, the queen and all of the assembled nobles seemed to have made a silent pact from the beginning to pretend that she was the sparkling twinkle of light and laughter that everyone had hoped for.  The king and queen had prayed fervently for a loving daughter, and at times they silently wondered what exactly had been delivered to their doorstep.  It was a baby-girl-shaped object, certainly, but beyond that, they weren’t sure. 

            The problem was that the entire kingdom had grown up on a relatively intense diet of unrealistic fairy stories that stressed NICE people in NICE surroundings rising up and conquering unpleasant people who had temporarily gained the upper hand through some devious twist of fate.  These unkind people would eventually be vanquished by some noble prince who would fall in love with the indisputable virtue of the NICE person who started the story off in the first place.

            Maybelle seemed like such a charming, cute and uplifting name back when she was born, but she eventually became known, first to her nannies (and there were many), then to her parents, and eventually to the entire kingdom and adjoining landmasses as "Princess May-Yell!" as in "this girl may lose it at any moment and ruin your day, week or life without giving it a second thought."

            She grew up to be THAT sort of princess.

            I could say that she was rare in her tempers and her shallow preoccupations, but I'd be lying.  In fact, the OTHER kind of princess, the eternally loving, kind and considerate-under-any-circumstances kind of princess is actually the rare kind.  Histories clean up the details by royal decree or court order or executioner's axe but in actual practice, most fairy tale princess characters are NOT based upon real people.  Cinderella – OK, she was nice, but she wasn’t actually BORN royalty.  Snow White was alright – a little bit flighty combined with a predisposition to sing with birds and the attention span of a magpie (Oooh shiny!), but still nice.

            Anyway, back to Maybelle.

            As an infant, her screaming was cute, that is until she really discovered how to use her diaphragm and PROJECT!  Without any operatic coaching she learned to rattle the windows in their frames when she required attention.  Then her screaming wasn't so much cute as an excuse to visit a different wing of the palace or the gardens or a distant relative in some adjoining kingdom.

            Talk was that once Princess Maybelle learned to use actual words, things should REALLY get interesting, and a general feeling of dread settled upon the servants and work-staff and all others who were in the unfortunate financial position of being unable to relocate at will. 

            And so the time came when the princess gained full use of her limbs, her mind, and her tongue.  Over the years, she exercised each in turn with due diligence and she learned the fine art of dueling with all three, for she loved to engage in activities that brought scandal to family and friends alike.  She was quick-witted and cunning and could always tell when she was just about to cross some unseen line and solicit an unkind reaction from her mother or father in protest to her interactive demeanor.

She became a master manipulator and politician.

Some smiled and said behind their hands that she became royal, but what they really meant was that she’d become a royal pain. 

            When she entered her mid-teens, she spoke openly less and people learned to fear her more, for what she DIDN'T say in public could get a person killed – but that was just a nasty rumor started by rebels and insurgents scattered through the land.  Nasty rumors spread by them - or their remaining kin.  

            Eventually, the time came for her grand coming-out ball, which was to be held in May on her sixteenth birthday.  Every great leader from every adjoining kingdom was invited to attend and honor Princess Maybelle in her very public and expensive graduation from childhood to adulthood.  Countless invitations were sent out, but oddly enough, leaders and dignitaries from adjoining kingdoms and principalities were often unable to personally attend, indicating instead that they would be sending representatives, which in political-speak meant – servants, work-staff and others who were in the unfortunate financial position of being unable to relocate at will. 

     Just before the grand ball, disaster struck the kingdom in the form of "The Great Turnip Tragedy."  Although "official" details are sketchy, court records reveal that all four of Princess Maybelle's grandparents suffered a sudden illness and died, all on the same day.  A local newspaper reported that it was a conspiracy, pointing out that all four of the caskets were closed at the funeral service and that the undertaker, an unusually somber fellow, was seen chuckling into his handkerchief on several occasions.  The theory was that the four grandparents had staged their own demise and were now safely far away from the whirlwind of festivities that would soon come to be remembered by all as "May-YELL's Minuet."

            It was reported that the newspaperman who had suggested this conspiracy had become so consumed with grief over his own meaningless accusations that he had thrown himself down three flights of stairs. And then, with a broken left femur and a shattered right patella, had decided that he was STILL unworthy of life and, filled with incredible guilt, he climbed to the roof to throw himself off in despair.  According to the official report, he attempted to throw himself down upon the spear of a passing palace guard but missed all vital organs and should, someday, recover.  When inquiring minds within the kingdom started to question how a man with a broken left femur and a shattered right patella could MOVE, let alone climb to the roof, the details in the official records were ordered rewritten in more general, and some thought more suspicious terms. 

            The guard is recovering quickly from the “alleged” assault.  The offensive newspaperman is currently unavailable for comment, as is the rest of his extended family.

            The day of the ball finally arrived and Princess Maybelle was positively atwitter in anticipation of the honors and gifts that she was about to receive.  After what seemed like hours of speeches and tokens and blah, blah, blah, it was obvious that she was losing her patience, and all of the assembled masses shuddered at the possibility of what THAT might bring down upon the kingdom.

            And then, when the clock was just about to strike midnight, there was a ritual pounding from the end of the hall and the voice of a royal footman proclaimed, "Queen Mab of the Fae".

            Now the assembled masses had heard titles and names being ritually announced all evening, but the queen of the fairies arriving to this occasion brought a look of apprehension to every face as they bowed lowly and scooted as far away from the royal dais as they possibly could.  No one wished to be in the line of fire if things went awry.  It was true that there were a dozen of the biggest royal guards standing at attention around the royal dais, but who knew how they would fare if they came in conflict with a queen of magic?  The general assumption was that the royal guards in all of their shiny finery wouldn’t fare very well at all.

            Unlike the other people in the hall, Princess Maybelle's mood picked up immediately, for she had heard since birth fabulous tales of magical gifts bestowed by fairy folk upon humans at ceremonies such as this and she was determined to receive the most marvelous gift of any, so that in the future, small impressionable children would be forced to read about HER in their picture books.

            Queen Mab advanced through the hall slowly and gracefully, her garments made of flower petals held together and adorned with spider silk and morning dew, blowing in an unseen breeze, her bejeweled hair the color of polished copper.

            Princess Maybelle, even in all of her expensive finery, seemed small and insignificant by comparison, not that anyone would ever have the nerve required to say so.

            Princess Maybelle's mother and father, the king and queen, tried to fade into the woodwork as they quietly rose from their glittering thrones and skittered uneasily off the back of the dais and behind a curtain that concealed an emergency exit. 

            Princess Maybelle was so absorbed in her own thoughts of magic and glory that she neither noticed nor would've cared that her parents had left the stage.  The royal bodyguards swallowed deeply and prayed for a quick and relatively painless death if Princess Maybelle did indeed decide to bully the fairy queen.

            Queen Mab stopped at the foot of the dais and stood, gazing up at the innocent-looking young girl with the golden hair and the disconcerting smile.

            "I am the Queen of the Fae and the humans call me Mab," she said, after an uncomfortably long pause.  "I am told that Princess Maybelle wishes to be honored on this, her most special day."

            "I do indeed, Queen Mab, and although I have never met anyone who has seen you face-to-face, I'm told that you are ancient and wise and generous."

            "I have been wise and generous, if the circumstances have merited being so, and as for ancient, well my age I'll keep to myself," replied Mab.

            Princess Maybelle rose from her demi-throne and gestured for Mab to ascend the stairs.

            "Come, join me, my Queen, for we are all honored by your presence," Princess Maybelle cooed.  "May I present…," looking around her, she noticed that her parents were mysteriously missing, "…my parents, King…how odd.  I wonder where they've toddled off to?"

            "There is time enough to meet them later.  Right now, I am here to honor you and you alone," Mab interjected.

            "I have heard many wonderful stories of fairy blessings and I am filled with happy anticipation at your unexpected gift," Princess Maybelle announced, holding her arms wide apart as if inviting a hug.

            "Your highness honors me greatly," Queen Mab replied, allowing herself to be embraced by the obviously self-centered child.

            "Bless me," Princess Maybelle whispered into Mab's ear through her smiling lips and gritted teeth, "bless me or you and your kind will know nothing but my wrath for as long as you live within my domain.  I shall seek out and destroy your fairy mounds and your mushroom rings and your ancient stone circles.  I shall pluck up, tear down and burn away every scrap of your existence until not a single soul is brave enough to remember when you were once revered.  I shall carve your image out of the hearts of the people and you shall vanish into the mists of never-seen, never-touched and never-dreamed.  This I promise to do if you refuse to bow down and bless me before this audience."

            Mab withdrew slowly from their embrace and stared into Princess Maybelle's eyes without the slightest sign of emotion, without the slightest hint of concern. 

            Quietly, she asked Princess Maybelle, "Why do you desire my blessing?  You have hundreds here to bow and acquiesce and do you honor.  What possible difference will my blessing make?"

            Princess Maybelle smiled more intensely, if that was indeed possible, and added, "You will bow down and bless me here and now so that all will know that my power and authority are supreme and shall never be challenged, even by the Fae folk, whom the simpletons speak of in hushed whispers.  Do it now or know the boundless limits of my rage."

            Mab replied in an even more quiet and reserved voice, "Why princess, you are unusually candid with me, for I was told that your ways were more silent and deadly.  If the crowd could hear you now, wouldn't they be surprised to hear you threaten me, an invited guest who has come with no other purpose than to honor you publicly.  I have heard tales of your rage and I have been shown the remains of some playthings that you have discarded that were never intended to see the light of day again."

            "So you know that my word is true, and I shall do all that I have promised if your blessing does not please me.  Do not trifle with me for someday I shall rule here."

            "I shall give unto you the most powerful blessing that I know."

            "Excellent.  Kneel before me and be quick about it."

            "Mine is a blessing best delivered standing," the fairy queen said, and then leaned in close so that not even Princess Maybelle's closest chamber guards had any chance to read her lips.

            From the audience, what happened next defied the casual observer's ability to adequately describe. 

            Immediately, the princess was caught up in a series of extreme convulsions that seemed to lift her from her throne and throw her down upon the dais in agony.  It seemed as if Queen Mab had cursed the human princess and that she was now in the throes of a violent death, yet there was a strange, otherworldly quality to her writhing.  There were the sounds of popping joints and splintering bones, but strangely, no blood. 

            The expression on Princess Maybelle's face seemed to change instantly from pleasure to pain and back, over and over and over again.

            Queen Mab stepped nimbly out of the way, yet continued a strange, one-sided conversation with the princess.

            "Do you remember Fluffy, your first hamster?"

            Princess Maybelle continued to defy gravity and physics with impunity. 

            "And what about that time you brought your bowl of goldfish down to the kitchen for some fun? You were always such an imaginative, creative and energetic child."

            A disconcerting sizzling sound filled the hall.

            The guests couldn't hear what Queen Mab was saying and stood transfixed, staring at the spectacle before them.

            After a time beyond measure, considering the surreal aspects of this supernatural spectacle, Princess Maybelle at last came to rest, if rest can truly be considered her state. Perhaps it is best to say that she merely stopped twisting and flipping.  She lay there in a heap that little resembled a human being, her body distorted and her limbs twisted in impossible states, as if she were a porcelain doll that lay shattered on the tile.

            The crowd gasped in horror for certainly no human being could be contorted so and still live without screaming endlessly in agony, but Princess Maybelle merely lay there, looking at Queen Mab with frightened, teary, pleading eyes.

            A deathly silence fell over the hall and every foot yearned to flee while every ear strained to hear what Queen Mab would now say to the unexpectedly humbled royal child.

            "You have demanded my blessing and I have given it, Princess Maybelle.  I have blessed you with all of the joy that you have brought to others, and you have felt the power of my blessing.  You have felt the joy of ripping the wings off of butterflies and you have felt the agony of having your wings ripped off.  You have relived the part of the aggressor and learned the meaning of being the victim of your own energies sent out into the world.  You have felt the shins that you've kicked and the arms that you've bitten and the innocent animal lives that you've snuffed out as casual entertainment.  Your body now bears the burden of your selfish and malicious childish pleasures and it is broken in ways that no soul could normally endure.  This knowledge of good and evil I give unto you, knowledge of energies that you shall never again consider sending out into the universe."

            Queen Mab knelt down close to the quivering body of a once-ruthless ruler and continued, "As you can see, I have done exactly as you have commanded of me.  And now, before I restore your body to health, I leave you one last thought to ponder long and hard.  What you have experienced this day has been nothing more serious than a few days of hateful recreation plucked from the distant mists of your childhood."

            Princess Maybelle shuddered involuntarily, adding nothing more than the tiniest whimper to the moment.

            "Pray that I never feel the urge to bless you again, for I fear that not even my great magical arts could stick what would be left of you back together into something that resembled a human being." 

            She snapped her fingers and a tiny gnome appeared at her feet as if by magic.

            "I leave with you one of my most trusted servants in case you ever have need of my healing talents again. His name is Ganarg and his job is to make sure that what you have learned today won't ever be forgotten."

            With that Queen Mab closed her eyes and passed her hands over the distorted shape that was once a healthy, powerful body, which now lay before her, a shapeless mass upon the floor, almost hidden in a twisted, bundled mess of expensive fabric and jeweled bric-a-brac.

            "This re-sorting will take a while to complete and, I'm sorry to say, will be quite unpleasant, but you will, after a time, be returned to your former physical state."

            Queen Mab placed a kiss upon the gnome's head and then turned quickly and strode toward the great iron-banded entrance doors of the hall.  Everyone was silent, as if afraid to breathe.  Even the motionless banners overhead seemed anxious to see what might happen next.

            "Live long and in peace, or I shall return to finish the lesson that I have begun today. Oh, by the way, I told my cousin Maleficent of your ball.  If I were you, I'd pray that she doesn't decide to show up for she's NOT as kind-hearted as I," and with that she turned and strode through the doors, leaving a mass of quiet, humbled, fear-filled humans in her wake.

            Princess Maybelle did indeed recover, but not without a lot of sobbing and wailing. She became increasingly sensitive to the use of the phrase, "Bless you," and whereas once she would've severely punished anyone who purposefully or inadvertently blurted out the phrase, now her face showed nothing but quiet panic when it was spoken.

            As a person her change was nothing less than miraculous and the people eventually forgot about the period of cruelty that had seized her in her youth.  She became tolerant and giving and patient and, dare I say it – loving to others.

            Eventually, she married a prince from a nearby land, as seems to be the destiny of every princess whose name has found its way to the written page.  The wedding ceremony was a fabulous affair and everyone had a wonderful time, including, according to the archbishop, Ganarg, the little gnome man who had been the constant companion of the princess since her ball, AND the little gnome woman whom, it was discovered, was a constant companion to the prince!

            After the wedding they lived happily ever after.

           

The End