Candle in the Attic Window(12)

I hate Princess Earwig. Why would anyone want to be a princess? All day, living under glass. Waiting to be saved or married. Only to be expected have children the minute they are freed. They have no rights, only responsibilities. I completely understand why Alisandre and the Prince of Butterflies acted the way they did. They wanted a relationship of equalities.

I wonder if such a thing is even possible. In any world.





Friday: English Lit





Mister Harvey has a stack of books on his desk. The class moans. He is wearing his glasses and his patched-up smoking jacket. That means what he is about to say is serious. Is deep and intellectual. This is the uniform of his rank.

“Class, I know you are bored in the evenings. A lot of you are. I have certain obligations to your parents – to make sure nothing (cough) happens. So, I have a stack of books here. You are each to take one and to read it tonight until you fall asleep. Understand? I expect a full book report.”

He crosses his arms. His eyes look at each of them, meet each eye. The sword girls giggle. I cannot help it, but for some reason, I blush and I think he saw me blush. After a moment of silence to show how deadly serious this all is, he commands us to line up single file and get the books.

I wait and get into the end of the line.

It is so much easier to be invisible from the back.

Each person grabs a book. I see them from where I stand. Big, weighty tomes. Classics. Works that do not involve love and knights and the Prince of Butterflies. Books that are not about the magical land of Iblio.

When I get up – right there, after everyone else is seated and they can all see – Mister Harvey reaches behind his desk and pulls out a book wrapped in leather, with a rope that ties it shut. He puts it in my hand, laying his hand over mine.

“This is for you,” he says, “I set it aside just this morning. I think you’ll like it.”

His breath smells like vanilla and cocoa. His hand is rough over mine, and large and meaty. I want to faint. The moment lasts forever, his eyes staring into mine, his hand over mine. The sword girls giggle, and one of the boys hoots and whistles.

Mister Harvey’s hand moves; his eyes move.

I sit back down, but I still feel it. His hand over mine. His eyes staring into mine.

I untie the knot, carefully. Unwrapping the leather around it. It feels soft, smooth, like skin. I am flush, remembering the stray flesh last night, rubbing against mine.

The book.

It is Victorian. On the cover is a naked woman, leaning over a dwarf. The title is “The Tunnels Beneath the Castle of O”. This might be a promising read, after all.





Friday: Algebra





I cannot pay attention to the equations on the board. Every time I try and focus, my mind swims. Outside is a wall of ice and snow. Inside are the tense bodies, a roomful of trapped teenagers. The teacher sees their stare, tries to avoid their animal gazes.

I open my new book. The pages are thick, heavy. There are no words. Only pictures. They follow a sequential order, telling a story. I blush as I flip through it, closing the book as quickly as possible. I do not want the teacher to see what I am reading. I do not want her to see what Mister Harvey has given me.

They are line drawings, and in each of them someone is performing some sexual act with someone else. Always in the background, hidden in the walls of the castle, in the shadows of the tunnel. Leering at the main characters.

I am not sure how I feel about this.

I open up Stone Dogs and read. The teacher’s voice drones on in the background. I read about Princess Earwig’s glass face. I read about her hair made of gold. I read about her dresses, 230, in all, and no two of them alike. I read about her heart, kept in a box on her stepmother’s throne.

And I read about the magic she uses to try and capture the love of Alisandre. Pictures burnt. Words whispered into seashells and buried in a box of mirrors. Blood smeared across the walls and the howls of misery ringing through the castle.

I picture Princess Earwig. And I see her looking like one of the girls in the shadows of the Castle of O. Her face twisted, her mouth wide open. She is screaming. That is what Princess Earwig looks like. A twig of a girl in a castle of sex.

I hardly even hear the bell ring. One of the sword girls shakes me out of my book, out of my trance. She giggles when I come to, giggles and runs off with her triplets. I want to cut her open. Display her glass organs to the world.

I run outside, into the hall. I see Geoff and wave. He waves back, I see scars along his fingers. Cut into rings around his knuckles.

He talks to a boy. A new kid? I don’t know. I don’t recognize him. He has purple hair and a trenchcoat. He’s cute. His features are very pretty, very feminine. He talks in a thick British accent. He reminds me of a fox, somehow.

Geoff introduces him. The boy’s name is ‘Nogitsune’.

“He climbed in through the third floor window. He’s here to save us.”

I smile my best smile. “Really? How come we’re still in here, then?”

The boy shrugs. “Because I lied to Geoff; that’s why. Although, I did sneak in through the third floor. But I’m not here to save anyone. I’m hiding out. Someone is chasing me.”

Geoff sighs. “How could you lie to me?”

The boy puts his hand on Geoff’s shoulder. Geoff melts beneath his fingers. “I’m sorry. You just seemed so excited and I just fed you what you wanted to hear.”