Once Upon a Time: New Fairy Tales Paperback(44)

Jack Reynard had disappeared from the table without any human noticing before Angelica invited Puss to sit beside her.

4.

Julian tried not to worry about hallucinations and nervous breakdown or to panic about what he was going to do next. He’d avoided looking at his phone. But when he opened his palm and saw the number of messages, Julian sat up.

Many were from names he didn’t know. One of the first was the tour guide/filmmaker who hardly spoke to him in person.

“IS THIS YOU?” it began. Pasted in was a quote from a recent Tales That Fairies Tell update. “Simplicity is today’s meme. And Julian is the name.” With it was the drawing of the girl and the cat.

Other messages followed. One stood out: From Jack Reynard at Fox Productions. “Your name came up at lunch with Angelica Siddons,” it read. “Here’s a number if you’re not too busy.”

The Fox, producer of Macabre Dance, on his phone! Julian’s head spun. How wrong he must have been about Reynard getting him fired! He called and by chance Jack Reynard turned out to be in the vicinity. “Be by shortly. I assume you have your portfolio.”

As if drawn by scent or psychic power, Julian’s roommates, the waitress/composer, the pedicab driver/dancer, even the tour guide/

filmmaker had found his or her way back to the apartment. They showed him online updates.

The Fairy Godmothers sidebar in TTFT indicated The artist ? 140 ?

? Rick Bowes ?

called Julian, lucky boy, may just have acquired the wondrous Mrs.

Siddons as Godmother and our own Puss as a Fairy Godfather!

As Julian tried to absorb all this, a buzzer sounded; a knock came at the door and the Fox entered, smiling and red haired. The light was on in the tour guide’s camera as she filmed the arrival. The pedicab driver and the waitress hurried to give him their seats, offered to take his coat. The tall woman, coiled like a whip, who came in with him, stood at the door and watched everyone.

Only the whimsy was on display that afternoon. The blade was hidden. Jack Reynard chuckled, “Reminds me of my very first apartment in the city.” He refused refreshments, only had time to glance at the images and portfolio.

He appraised, nodded, murmured, “Ah, I see what the Cat saw.”

Julian suddenly remembered Puss. As if he understood that, Jack Reynard smiled and said, “I ran into him a couple of hours ago. Puss and I are old companions . . . old partners.”

He spread his palm, lifted it, and an image flashed on the wall.

The waitress and the pedicab driver pulled the blinds down. Julian saw an eighteenth century park, avenues of graceful trees, summer light, figures in embroidered silk, and women seated on green grass in the background. It looked like a Watteau landscape, but it was a photograph.

In the foreground were two figures with elaborate wigs, clothes, and festive masks. At first glance they were human. But Puss and Reynard, Cat and Fox, were visible behind the masks if one looked closer. The glance they shared was predatory, like two pirates preparing to make everything they saw theirs.

Reynard had chosen a selection of Julian’s work.

“Don’t worry. He’ll expect me to take over as your agent/advisor.”

The Fox made a sign, indicated Julian’s phone. A contract was on the screen. “A simple agreement. Believe me, the Cat will understand.”

His smile was infectious.

Julian had never signed a contract before. In a daze he okayed it.

The figure at the door said a single word and not in English. Suddenly ? 141 ?

? Tales That Fairies Tell ?

Reynard was out of the room and in the hall. The roommates asked if they could send their resumes. But, apparently, he didn’t hear.





5.


For a few minutes afterwards his roommates barraged Julian with questions. “What are your plans for tonight, for tomorrow, for your life? Are you getting a personal assistant, talking to the media, doing a show? Is it possible you’ll need to hire a private pedicab, a tour guide, companion? Couldn’t his art tie in with music, dance, film?”

As they talked, Julian became aware of another presence. He closed his eyes and saw a huge figure that smelled of rotted meat. An ogre in clothes of fine velvet, stained with food and drink, sporting an elaborate beard and immense hairy eyebrows, stared down at him.

“When I consume a cow I have a gentle, calm disposition,” it said. “When I dine on a child, I become innocent. When I eat a king (preferably simmered in a robust wine sauce from a traditional family recipe), I am majestic. You look at me and you don’t believe it. Well think again, my friend! When I devour you I will be a witless young man.” Julian began to scramble to his feet.