A brief and twisted little fairy tale.
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Author's Note
If you are a regular reader of my work you will know that I am a big fan of slice-of-life stories as well as unorthodox princesses in anachronistic settings. Well, this tale has a bit of both. As usual, all characters are over the age of eighteen, and don't try this at home.
Enjoy!
Wax Philosophic
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Fairy Fucking Godmother
"Chiminea, what is that on the floor?"
Chiminea scurried over as quickly as she could to see what it was her step-sister could have possibly found on the floor that Chiminea had so meticulously scrubbed only minutes ago. She frowned as she watched her step-sister dislodge a wad of chewing gum from between her smiling teeth and casually drop it at her feet.
"Look at this!" Step-Sister cried. "I could have stepped in this gum and ruined the soles of my new shoes."
Chiminea stood with her mouth agape, still not believing that even the most disgraceful of step-sisters was capable of such treachery. And on her newly-cleaned floor of all things. Chiminea's moment of reflection was cut short as she felt the vice-like grip of her step-sister's cold fingers curling around the nape of her neck, forcing her down until she almost stumbled.
"Well pick it up girl. Before somebody important steps in it."
Chiminea said nothing. For a moment she imagined that the wad of chewing gum was a steaming pile of horse dung and that her bitch of a step-sister was up to her ankle in it. That would serve her right for all of the cruel tricks she had been playing on Chiminea since last winter.
Like her step-sister, last winter was horribly wicked as well, and had coldly claimed the lives of her mother and father one morning while they were out frolicking in the snow. Mother and father had loved each other dearly and had frolicked together at practically any chance they got. They had even encouraged young Chiminea to frolic with them that day, but she did not.
Chiminea was too busy admiring her collection of pressed wild flowers and dreaming of the coming spring to be bothered with a mid-winter's frolic. And it was only after they were overdue by several hours that Chiminea had learned from a passing woodsman that her parents' frolicking days had been cut short by a freak avalanche.
After that, Chiminea was so overcome by guilt that she knew she would never frolic again, nor would she press any wildflowers. And not just for the constant self-reproach that played out inside her head, but for the never-ending list of chores given to her by her foster family. For it seemed to Chiminea that her step-mother and step-sisters saw her more as a servant girl than as another member of the family.
"Chiminea!" It was her other wicked step-sister snapping Ciminea's attention back to the present. "Chiminea, where is my gown? You were supposed to pick it up from the cleaners today."
"Yes, step-sister," Chiminea begged. "Yes, and I will. But you asked me to shine your shoes first. All of them, you said. And you have a lot of shoes."
"I don't care what I said
then
, I need you to go and fetch my gown
now
, and hurry before the cleaners closes for the day. Now shoo!"
Chiminea quickly scooped the chewing gum off the floor and deposited it in the trash as she scurried out the back door and into the alleyway. Chiminea wasn't allowed to use the front door since her step-mother did not want the neighbors seeing what she referred to as a wretched excuse for a girl leaving by the main entrance.
Chiminea stopped at the back gate and held her face in her hands for a moment. A weak sob crossed her lips as she thought about her lot in life and the endless despair it held in store.
If only mother and father were not so fond of frolicking,
she thought and then cursed herself for sullying their memory.
Oh, what's a girl to do?
"What's the matter, toots?" A woman asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. She was standing by the back gate dressed entirely in black leather except for what looked like a white t-shirt or tank top, Chiminea wasn't quite sure which, under her unfastened leather jacket. Her boots were made of the same material, and even her pants it seemed. Except for her white cotton top, the woman appeared to be a study in buff black leather.
The strange woman raised her right hand to lift a cigarette to her lips and took a long drag. "What's the problem doll? Cat got your tongue?" she said while exhaling a pungent cloud of bluish-white smoke. "Or is it them bitches you're living with? -- Eh, Chiminea?"
"Who are you you?" Chiminea asked. "And how do you know my name?"
"I'm your fairy fucking godmother," the woman replied before lifting the cigarette to her lips again. "Duh."
Chiminea stared as the smoke curled around this foul-tongued creature before her, dressed in her leather and sporting the strangest haircut Chiminea had ever seen. It was as though some cruel defect at birth had made her hair refuse to grow on the sides and instead it was all clustered at the top like some sort of wild ebony rooster's comb. And the rest of her did not appear completely normal either, for there was a large bulge in her crotch area that should not have been there.
"No offense, but I seriously doubt that you are fit to be anybody's godmother." It hurt Chiminea to be so blunt, but it was the honest to goodness truth and Chiminea felt it would be more of an affront to lie.
The woman raised the cigarette to her lips again and took another long drag before flicking the spent end into the alleyway behind her.
"Suit yourself toots," the woman said as she exhaled another cloud. "But you and me, we could go hit the town, maybe have a little fun for once. But, you know, if you really want to just hang around here ..."
"Oh, I would love to get away," Chiminea whined. "But I have no time for such frivolity, for I must get to the cleaners before they close and fetch my step-sister's gown. She will need it for the big ball tonight."
"Ain't you going to this ball too?"
"No, fairy godmother." The word felt strange on Chiminea's tongue as it crossed her lips, but who was she to argue semantics with the woman? "I have not been invited."
"Well ain't that a fucking shame," the woman said. She had shaken another cigarette loose from the pack and was already lifting it to her lips. "What do you say I give you a ride over to the cleaners and then we see about getting you an invitation to this ball."
Just as Chiminea was about to ask Fairy Godmother what form of transportation she had in mind -- seeing that she had none of her own -- Chiminea's eyes were drawn to the flame that Fairy Godmother touched to the end of yet another cigarette clenched in her mouth.
Such a lovely flame,
Chiminea thought, and then it was gone.
Chiminea watched as Fairy Godmother took a long pull and then gestured with the glowing end toward a burgundy-colored vintage Chevrolet Caprise Classic two-door that Chiminea swore had not been there a moment ago. It looked quite regal and elegant perched as it was upon twenty-two inch chrome rims that seemed to twinkle in the fading orange light of evening.
Fairy Godmother opened up the passenger side door. "Come on honey, we ain't got all night. All this stuff will turn to shit at midnight."
Chiminea took one step toward the waiting car and stopped. Her legs felt constricted and she swore she heard a squeak when she moved. After another tentative step she stopped and looked down. By some strange magic Chiminea realized she was now dressed in leather pants and a leather jacket just like Fairy Godmother's.
She also knew now that it was a tank top that Fairy Godmother wore, for in her identical garb she could feel the smooth lining of the leather jacket against her bare shoulders. But strangest of all had to be the fact that she was no longer wearing a corset and her modest breasts were hanging free.
Oh, what a liberating feeling it is not to be constrained.
Chiminea walked with purpose now, the heels of her leather work boots crunching on the gravel alleyway beneath her as she strode toward Fairy Godmother's waiting ride. As she sat down, the bulge in her crotch became even more noticeable and she reached down with her hand to shift it to one side.
"What is this thing, Fairy Godmother?" Chiminea stared down at the bulge in her own crotch as her leather-clad companion hopped into the driver's seat.
"Pack and play." Fairy Godmother just smiled as she twisted the key in the ignition and the big engine roared to life.
"But isn't that a portable children's crib?"
"Does it feel anything like what a childrens ought to be knowing about?" Fairy Godmother smiled as she mashed the accelerator and the car lurched forward leaving a cloud of exhaust fumes and burnt rubber in the rear view mirror.
"Child," Chiminea corrected as she reached for her seatbelt. "You said childrens, but you should have said child."
"And you need to fucking lighten up, toots."
Fairy Godmother touched a flame to another cigarette, rolled down the window and leaned over to turn on the stereo. The two women made it to the cleaners and back in record time.
*
"Remember, all this stuff turns to shit at midnight so don't get all wrapped up in anything and stay too fucking long, got it?" Fairy Godmother rolled up the window, waved to Chiminea, and laid a trail of burnt rubber as she peeled out of the dance hall parking lot.
Chiminea could feel the swell of the music around her in the cool night air. The driving rhythm of the beat propelled her up the stairs and toward the entrance where she was suddenly stopped by a gorilla in a suit and dark glasses.