Debbie Banna - Shattered Dreams, New Beginnings

Tony surveyed the room into which he just forced his entry. It was a quaint, but serviceable farmhouse kitchen. Aha! Here’s the place to start, Tony thought to himself. His eyes were immediately drawn to the tall cabinets above a wooden counter. “Food is just a heartbeat away,” he said, crossing to them and tossing the doors open expectantly. “What?” He gaped wide-eyed at four shelves empty except for some dishes and cups. “Ah, it must be in the other ones.” He threw open the other set of doors to find these shelves also empty but for an enormous box of cereal. His luck proved no better with the last set of cabinets, which contained fancy crystal platters and cake stands. “What’s going on? People don’t eat around here? What kind of crazy place is this?” he griped angrily as he snatched the box of cereal and a bowl from their spots in the cupboard.

He plopped his hefty frame into a small wicker chair positioned near a crude wooden table and filled the bowl to the brim. “Not even a drop of milk thanks to that clumsy cow. Ah, I’ve eaten dry cereal before,” he said, digging in with a spoon he’d retrieved before settling in. “Yuck! What is this stuff?” he yowled, making a disgusted face but continuing to chew just the same. He munched unhappily until the bowl was empty and then leaned his chair onto its back legs. With a loud crack, the chair gave way, tossing Tony roughly to the floor. “This is one of those days, isn’t it? The kind where nothing goes right? Well I’ve had enough!” he stated, picking himself off of the floor and gingerly rubbing his backside.

“I think I’m going to call it a day. There’s nothing else to do here anyway. No TV, no newspaper, no people for Pete’s sake!” He glanced around, surveying the rest of the downstairs area. Other than a worn, overstuffed chair, a hardwood rocker and a long, low table, there was nothing else to see. But a staircase leading upward led Tony to believe that what he sought might be found above. He climbed the stairs to a loft-like room where the bed of his dreams awaited. It was roomy enough for a man of his dimensions and was invitingly topped with a plush feather mattress. The two smaller beds beside it were of no interest to him as he plopped onto the mattress and leaned over to pull off his shoes. Making himself at home, he tossed the shoes across the room, stretched and flopped back into the mound of fluff. “Ah, now this is more like it,” he sighed. After a day on the farm, this is what the man of the house should come home to.” He linked his hands behind his head, crossed his feet and, settling his head comfortably on the pillow, rewarded himself with the luxury of a good, long nap.

“Fall?” Matilde called to her stepdaughter. “You have been very kind to me these last few days. I know that with Virginia gone, your workload has increased tremendously. She was such a help to you in handling the affairs of the kingdoms.” Matilde crossed the cold stone floor of her throne room to stand before Leaf Fall. “I understand if you need to get back to work.”

“Mother, I’m here because you need me. And at the moment, that is the most important thing I can do.” Things had changed considerable between the two women since being called upon to work together in the Troll Wars. Leaf Fall had gained a new respect for her stepmother and they had discovered that they shared a comfortable understanding. “I feel I am not much help but it’s always better to have a friend about when troubles arrive.”

“Friends? Is that what we’ve become?” Matilde said with a thoughtful smile. “I like that. We have come a ways haven’t we dear? You speak the truth when you say there is nothing you can do. Nor can I, unfortunately. And worst of all is not knowing where Tony is,” she said, shaking her head negatively from side to side. “If only he had taken the mirror I’d have been able to watch over him. I guess that’s what hurts the most. The fact that he felt so utterly betrayed by me that he destroyed it. Oh, Fall, I can’t believe that I’m in such a state over a man. How did this ever happen to me?”

“Even the heart of a queen needs love, mother,” Fall stated sympathetically. “It happens to the best of us. I’m sure I couldn’t offer you romantic advice but I know you’ll follow your heart in the end.”

Matilde turned her back to her stepdaughter and walked to her throne, settling herself down on the gnarled, wooden chair. “Sometimes it weighs heavily upon me to be a queen. If I were an ordinary woman, I would leave here now to go to look for him. I would search for him until I found him. Then I would wrap my arms around him and beg him to understand. If he pushed me away, I would follow him and I would pour my out heart, even betray my secrets if he would only take me back again. But I am not an average woman. I am a queen and a great many lives are dependent upon my actions. Fall?” Matilde looked at her stepdaughter questioningly. “Do you think there is a way to be both woman and queen? Could I follow my heart and still be faithful to my people?”

“I don’t see what this has to do with your people, mother. If marrying a commoner is what you want, no one will judge you harshly for it.”

“No. But that is not my dilemma. It’s a problem of another kind indeed. And one of which the details I cannot share. Not with you. Not with my Tony. This is a burden I must carry alone until a resolution presents itself to me.” Matilde’s eyes now gazed directly ahead, fixed on the far wall, but her mind wandered the woods and villages of the nine kingdoms, searching for her Tony and a way to pull down the barriers that, at the moment, stood unmovable between them.

It had been a long, tiresome day, what with the many hours of walking it took to bring the family back to their home. And for the last five miles, Father had carried his little girl on his shoulders. She wasn’t inclined to walk when she could ride but sometimes Father persuaded her to do so by telling her a story. Today, however, she was decidedly uncooperative, and lacking the strength to do battle, both Mother and Father thought it easier to carry her than argue. It had been only proper to take part in the ceremony at the castle and the sight of beautiful Princess Virginia had been rewarding but now, with aching feet and a mouth full of road dust, home looked better to them than any castle. The sun was setting in a dusky purple haze when they stepped onto the porch of the house. Mother reached into her pocket for the key when her mate grabbed her arm and pulled it back.

“Hold on, Bonice,” he cautioned his wife. “Look at this.” He pointed to the open sash and the jagged edges of broken window glass, which alerted them of a recent assault upon it by a heavy object. “Something’s not right here. I think we’ve had a visitor.” He tugged his daughter down from her perch upon his shoulders and handed her off to his spouse. “Let me go in first.”

Silently he reached for the knob, inserted his key and opened the door. The room was dark, only a little light reaching through the curtained window facing west. The man stepped inside and cautiously examined the room for signs of the intruder. He determined the search would go better if he lit a candle so he pulled a match from his pocket and struck it against the doorframe. He snatched a candle from the table and touched the flame to the wick. The room and its contents were now visible, and Bonice stepped inside to examine her domain. “Kendall. Someone has been in here. Look at the table. Someone has been eating our oatmeal,” she exclaimed as she spotted the empty bowl and box of cereal on the table.

“Mother, look. Someone fat must have been sitting here. Look at my broken chair!” the little girl said as she walked to the seat and picked up a severed chair leg.

“Great!” the father complained. “One more thing to fix around here. Let’s see if there’s anything else our visitor has destroyed.” He glanced around the room, finding everything else intact and turned in the direction of the stairs. He reached down and plucked the chair leg from his daughter’s grasp, then mounted the stairs, brandishing his weapon like a club. Bonice and her daughter followed behind holding onto Kendell like a shield. They all stopped short as the flickering light of the candle shined upon a lumpy form stretched out in father’s bed just inside the door of the loft. “Get out of my bed!” Kendell shouted with a thunderous, authoritative, voice.

Tony’s relaxed body leaped spasmodically at the sound of the deep, roaring voice. “Wh..h..a..at? Hoo man… hold on there,” he sputtered leaping to his feet and backing away. “Whoa. Wait! Hey, I didn’t do anything. I was just taking a nap. That’s a nice bed you have here,” he said nervously. “Is this your house? Hey, I’m sorry about the window.”

“And the chair?” the little girl spat back annoyingly.

“Oh yeah. The chair too. Look, I just needed something to eat. I got into town today and there wasn’t a soul in the place. I hadn’t eaten in a while and there was nowhere to buy anything so I thought I might find a little grub on a farm. Listen. I can pay for everything,” he said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few gold wendells.

At the sight of the coins, the fierce, protective look left the father’s face and he lowered the club he’d been wielding. He took his eyes from Tony and the money to look at his wife trying to determine what she thought he should do. She shrugged and took the club from him but held it poised for a blow just in case it might be needed.

“All right buddy. Let’s go downstairs and talk this one out.” He gestured with his hand for Tony to lead the way down the stairs, then he followed with his wife and daughter immediately behind.

Once back in the kitchen, Kendell opened a closet and removed four wooden folding chairs from inside and placed them around the table. The four took a seat, watching each other carefully while Bonice still wielded the club. Her daughter sat on the far side of the table glaring at Tony. He broke the staring contest with a question. “Look, can somebody tell me why Kissingtown is suddenly Ghosttown? I’ve been here before and I know it’s not always like this. And why isn’t there a bite of food in a farm house?”

“Where have you been, buddy?” the father asked. “Under a rock? Today has been proclaimed a national day of mourning in all nine kingdoms and the king invited all citizens to the castle to honor Princess Virginia. For the last two days, everyone within miles has traveled to pay their respects. And never mind asking the questions. I have a few of my own. After all, you broke into my home. I want to know how you’ll be taking care of all this,” he said as he gestured toward the window and chair and then glanced toward Tony’s pocket.

“Two days?” Tony muttered in disbelief. “It couldn’t have been that long since I left. Could it? And I missed my daughter’s funeral. Oh, Virginia, you deserve a better father than I am.” He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the uncomfortable thoughts swirling in his mind.

“Daughter? What do you mean?” Then pausing and examining Tony carefully, he continued. “Oh, Bonice, I know who this is, don’t you? This is the Tony who was honored by Prince Wendell for befriending him when he was an enchanted dog.” He stood to his feet and grabbed the chair leg from his wife’s clutches, tossing it into a corner. “Oh, sir, I am sorry but you startled me and I didn’t recognize you at first. We are honored that you found shelter within our home. I do hope you will still pay for the damages you incurred, however.”

Reaching into his pocket, Tony withdrew the coins again and placed them on the table in front of his host. “I think this should take care of it, don’t you?” he said, watching a greedy look appear on the face of the man.

“Oh, yes sir. That will do fine. Bonice. Get up and start some supper.” Then turning to Tony, he continued. “You are welcome to stay with us tonight if you like. My bed is yours. We can spread a mattress out down here for the night.” Bonice nodded her head in the direction of her husband and disappeared out the front door. Moments latter, she reappeared in the kitchen with a pail of milk and a basket of eggs.

Tony looked up in astonishment. How’d she do that? The woman went quickly to work and whipped up a fluffy omelet and some steaming pudding for each. Accompanied by a slab of bread and some salted butter, carefully hidden in a barrel in the yard, it made for a satisfying meal. After the supper, them men continued at the table discussing matters of business.

“I think I’ll be staying in these parts for a bit. Could you tell me if there’s a nice place I could rent? Money’s not a problem but I’d like it to be quiet, I think,” Tony informed his host. Suddenly the atmosphere of romance and gambling in Kissingtown did not appeal to him as he had thought that it might. A place to be alone and think might do the job a bit better.

“I think I’ve got just the place for you, sir.” The man spoke up quickly. We’ve owned a piece of property on the other side of town for quite some time but, with all the work that a farm requires, we really don’t get out to enjoy it much anymore. It’s an old log cabin by a small pond near the edge of town. It’s set back a ways into the trees so as to give you a bit of privacy but it’s not really very far away. If you’d like, I can rent it to you for however long you need it. It’ll only be two gold wendells a day. That’s bargain prices around here sir,” the man gushed.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ll be staying but, if it looks okay when I see it, I’ll take it and pay you by the week,” Tony replied. The men shook hands on the deal and Tony paid Kendell a week’s worth of gold wendells in advance. Then they talked into the late hours of the evening about the best way to milk a cow, which trees yield the most fruit, which wood is best for carving furniture and who the little cherub was who flitted around Kissingtown with her bow and arrow. But of all the topics of their conversation, Tony avoided asking for details about the ceremony the family had attended that day. Only when he had ascended the stairs once more and tucked himself into the great feather bed did he allow his mind to drift to the topic that he had avoided skillfully all evening. Alone, he was assaulted unmercifully by his own tormenting thoughts until the crowing of a rooster signaled that it was time to arise and begin to try to drag himself though another painful day.