folds her arms across her concave chest. “You’re wasting everyone’s time. Tell him already.”
“Mother!” her sister blurts out at last.
Sasperilla’s eyes narrow into knife-like slits.
“Why your mother?” asks Grimm.
I shudder. He’d better never ask me why I dreamt of escaping my mother!
“B-b-because I want to live my own life!” splutters Elzmerelda. “I’m tired of her telling me what to do, what to wear, and whom to marry!”
Sasperilla gasps. “You indignant ingrate! I’m telling Mother on you when I see her!”
“Tell on me; I don’t care.” Elzmerelda’s voice shakes. “And besides, you’ve always told on me. You’ve always wanted to get me into trouble with Mother.”
“My children are always telling on each other,” comments Winifred. “They just want attention.”
“That’s an excellent observation, Winifred,” says Grimm. “Sasperilla, does your mother give you enough attention?”
“Never! She always dotes on Elzmerelda because she thinks she’s the pretty one.”
“That is so not true!” protests Elzmerelda.
An “is so/ is not” battle erupts and lasts until What’s-His-Name let out a startling roar that stops both sisters in their tracks.
With the slightest trace of a smile, Grimm thanks the troll. His eyes shift from one sister to the other. “Fighting is not an acceptable way to resolve conflicts. I want the two of you to work on alternative means.”
Despite Grimm’s ultimatum, Sasperilla won’t give up. She manages to get in the last word.
“Guess what! I hope you sail away and get eaten by a whale, you little twit!”
Her hurtful words bring tears to Elzmerelda’s eyes. An unexpected wave of sadness sweeps over me. I know how it feels to be abandoned. To feel unloved. Elzmerelda’s quiet sobs tug at my heart. If Hook’s back to leering at me, I’m oblivious.
***
After group, Elzmerelda begs me to go to Arts and Crafts with her.
“I’m sure if we’re in class together Sasperilla won’t come,” she says. “I don’t think she likes you.”
That’s an understatement. The skinny bitch hates me. Though I was looking forward to cooking again with Winifred, I cave in to Elzmerelda’s plea. Unfortunately, Sasperilla’s already in the classroom when we get there. What’s-His-Name is there too.
Fairweather announces that today’s theme is jewelry. The only piece of jewelry I want to make is a lucky charm--the key to Faraway’s front gate to free myself from this prison. Instead, I opt to make a paper chain necklace. When it comes to art, I have little talent.
At a long metal table, Elzmerelda works as far away as possible from her sister. “What are you making?” I ask.
“Jewelry for feet--shoes!” she says proudly.
I examine her project. She’s constructed a pair of high-heeled shoes out of papier-mâché, painted them gold, and encrusted them with multi-color sequins. You know what, she’s actually talented.
At the back of the room, What’s-His-Name sits at a spinning wheel. He’s making something out of straw.
He limps over to me, holding his creation. “F-for you,” he stutters.
It’s a delicate golden bracelet with my name woven into it. “QUEEN.” Nice! Finally, someone respects me around this joint.
“Wonderful!” says Fairweather. “This is the first time he’s connected with someone at Faraway.”
I take the bracelet from him and slip it over my hand. It falls apart. What’s-His-Name looks crestfallen.
“It’s the thought that counts,” Fairweather tells him. “Next time, think of incorporating your name.”
Sasperilla saunters over to her sister. “Watch’ya making?” she asks nosily.
Elzmerelda ignores her.
Sasperilla snatches the shoes and tosses them onto the floor. “Let me be the first to try them on.”
“No!” cries Elzmerelda. But it’s too late. Sasperilla squeezes her long, bony feet into the sparkly shoes and completely destroys them.
“Mother!” her sister blurts out at last.
Sasperilla’s eyes narrow into knife-like slits.
“Why your mother?” asks Grimm.
I shudder. He’d better never ask me why I dreamt of escaping my mother!
“B-b-because I want to live my own life!” splutters Elzmerelda. “I’m tired of her telling me what to do, what to wear, and whom to marry!”
Sasperilla gasps. “You indignant ingrate! I’m telling Mother on you when I see her!”
“Tell on me; I don’t care.” Elzmerelda’s voice shakes. “And besides, you’ve always told on me. You’ve always wanted to get me into trouble with Mother.”
“My children are always telling on each other,” comments Winifred. “They just want attention.”
“That’s an excellent observation, Winifred,” says Grimm. “Sasperilla, does your mother give you enough attention?”
“Never! She always dotes on Elzmerelda because she thinks she’s the pretty one.”
“That is so not true!” protests Elzmerelda.
An “is so/ is not” battle erupts and lasts until What’s-His-Name let out a startling roar that stops both sisters in their tracks.
With the slightest trace of a smile, Grimm thanks the troll. His eyes shift from one sister to the other. “Fighting is not an acceptable way to resolve conflicts. I want the two of you to work on alternative means.”
Despite Grimm’s ultimatum, Sasperilla won’t give up. She manages to get in the last word.
“Guess what! I hope you sail away and get eaten by a whale, you little twit!”
Her hurtful words bring tears to Elzmerelda’s eyes. An unexpected wave of sadness sweeps over me. I know how it feels to be abandoned. To feel unloved. Elzmerelda’s quiet sobs tug at my heart. If Hook’s back to leering at me, I’m oblivious.
***
After group, Elzmerelda begs me to go to Arts and Crafts with her.
“I’m sure if we’re in class together Sasperilla won’t come,” she says. “I don’t think she likes you.”
That’s an understatement. The skinny bitch hates me. Though I was looking forward to cooking again with Winifred, I cave in to Elzmerelda’s plea. Unfortunately, Sasperilla’s already in the classroom when we get there. What’s-His-Name is there too.
Fairweather announces that today’s theme is jewelry. The only piece of jewelry I want to make is a lucky charm--the key to Faraway’s front gate to free myself from this prison. Instead, I opt to make a paper chain necklace. When it comes to art, I have little talent.
At a long metal table, Elzmerelda works as far away as possible from her sister. “What are you making?” I ask.
“Jewelry for feet--shoes!” she says proudly.
I examine her project. She’s constructed a pair of high-heeled shoes out of papier-mâché, painted them gold, and encrusted them with multi-color sequins. You know what, she’s actually talented.
At the back of the room, What’s-His-Name sits at a spinning wheel. He’s making something out of straw.
He limps over to me, holding his creation. “F-for you,” he stutters.
It’s a delicate golden bracelet with my name woven into it. “QUEEN.” Nice! Finally, someone respects me around this joint.
“Wonderful!” says Fairweather. “This is the first time he’s connected with someone at Faraway.”
I take the bracelet from him and slip it over my hand. It falls apart. What’s-His-Name looks crestfallen.
“It’s the thought that counts,” Fairweather tells him. “Next time, think of incorporating your name.”
Sasperilla saunters over to her sister. “Watch’ya making?” she asks nosily.
Elzmerelda ignores her.
Sasperilla snatches the shoes and tosses them onto the floor. “Let me be the first to try them on.”
“No!” cries Elzmerelda. But it’s too late. Sasperilla squeezes her long, bony feet into the sparkly shoes and completely destroys them.
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