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Shoe Envy
by
Bill WIlbur
When it came to fairytale kisses,
Snow had them all beat. She had been in
a coma until her prince leaned in for a closer look and accidentally brushed
his lips against hers. That was the
truth of it, no matter what the storybooks say. It had been an accident. But it is true that
kiss woke her from eternal slumber and became THE KISS, the one smooch by which
all others were judged.
When it came to swords, there was
the mighty Excalibur. Hair was Rapunzel’s
thing and you couldn’t think of a little prick without thinking of Sleeping
Beauty. But when it came to shoes, there
was where the waters grew murky, the ocean, by the way, belonged to Ariel.
Cinderella had her glass slippers,
and while they were beautiful and considered THE SHOES by nearly everyone,
there was another pair, belonging to another girl in a faraway land. Cinderella had long heard tales of the ruby
slippers and the girl who clicked her heels incessantly.
There
were days when Cinderella could think of nothing else. She hated sharing the
spotlight. If shoes were to be her
thing, than they should be hers alone.
She shouldn’t have to share the glory with some farm girl. Shoe envy can be an ugly thing.
So
troubled was Cinderella, that she’d summoned her fairy Godmother, who arrived,
as usual, in a giant bubble, which floated through the air propelled by the
soft flutter of hundreds of bluebirds all flapping their wings. As the bubble landed softly in the courtyard,
the birds began dropping onto the grass, their tiny chests huffing and
puffing.
Glinda
stepped through the slick transparent wall with a loud pop as the bubble
burst. She made her way up the path to
the castle, gingerly stepping around the passed out birds on the ground.
“Cindy!”
She squealed as Cinderella appeared in that doorway.
Cinderella
ran down the hill toward her fairy Godmother.
“Glinda!”
They
embraced and made fake kissy noises in each other’s ears.
“I’m
so happy you could come,” Cinderella said as they walked up the hill, the heels
of her glass slippers sinking ungracefully into the soft hillside. Heels on a slipper, who does that? “It has been such a long time.”
“Well,
how could I resist your note.” Glinda
smiled. Clearing her throat she recited,
“Glinda, come at once. It involves shoes. Love, Cindy.”
Smiling,
Cinderella said, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”
“I’m
a girl aren’t I? Shoes are like men. You can’t have just one pair.”
Behind
her, the bluebirds were recovering and beginning to flutter around in circles.
Cinderella
led her fairy godmother into the castle, explaining her situation. They plopped down on Cindy’s bed and stared
at the ceiling. “Those ruby slippers
should be mine, they’re too fancy for a farm girl to wear when slopping the hogs. I must have them.”
“Be
careful, dear. The last girl to say that
melted.”
Cindy
pouted. “There must be some way.”
“Well,”
Glinda said. “I could ask Dorothy to
give them to you. But I doubt she
would.”
“You…you
know her?”
“Of
course, dear. I‘m her fairy Godmother
too.”
Cinderella
sat up in the bed. “All this time I
thought you were mine.”
“I
am, Dear,” Glinda said.
“No,”
Cindy responded. “ONLY mine. I didn’t know I had to share you.”
“You
should know something else,” Glinda touched Cinderella on the cheek. “I gave Dorothy the ruby slippers. They were a gift after she dealt with a
certain unpleasantness in Oz. I give all
my girls shoes.”
“How
many of us are there?” Cinderella asked.
“Oh,
too many to count, Dear.”
Cinderella
jumped up. “You can ask for them back!”
Glinda
shook her head. “No, I couldn’t do
that. A gift, once given, is forever.”
“But,
I’d give you back my glass slippers if you asked me.”
Glinda
smiled, patting Cindy lightly on the arm.
“I’m sure of that, Dear. But
Dorothy is a sportier type of girl…made of heartier stock. She is stubborn and self-righteous, and she
holds on to what is hers. She does have a bit of a gambling problem
though. Can’t resist a bet. It’s how the wizard got her to steal the
witch’s broom.”
Cinderella
slumped back onto the bed. “Isn’t there
any way?”
Glinda
thought for a moment and smiled.
“Perhaps there is something.”
A
bet was offered and accepted, and word soon spread across the land. A dance-off between Dorothy of Oz and
Cinderella of The Kingdom was set. Many
people travelled great distances to watch the winner-take-all match. The fields around the castle filled with
commoners and hucksters alike. Those
with no money, and those who wanted it.
Winner
of the dance-off got the shoes. Both
pairs. Glass and ruby slippers
both. For three days the crowd waited
and on the fourth a great cheer began to rise.
Dorothy had arrived, but she had not come alone. Walking beside her were the Tin Man, the
Cowardly Lion and the Scarecrow.
Together,
they approached the massive door to Cinderella’s castle.
“I’m
having déjà vu,” said the Tin Man
“It
sure does feel like we’ve done this before,” agreed the Scarecrow.
Dorothy
said nothing. Her face was a mask of
determination and she clutched her handbag and her little dog too.
The
door swung open as they approached and Cinderella stepped out. Her eyes darted to the girl’s shoes before
rising to look at the girl herself. She
was a plain girl with hard eyes, and really, who wore pigtails anymore these
days?
Dorothy
curtsied. “Hello ma’am. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Cinderella
pasted a smile to her lips. “The
pleasure is mine, Dorothy. Welcome to my
kingdom.” With a sweep of her arm, she
said, “Please come in.”
Crossing
the threshold, the cowardly lion looked all around and sighed, “Here we go
again.”
The
royal atrium at the castle’s center began to fill as the wealthiest among them
bought their way inside. Stadium seats
had been constructed by the royal masons along all four walls for the best view
of the battle. Mutton vendors walked
among the seated crowds where two pence bought a slab of meat and goblet of ale
to wash it down.
High
above, a skylight illuminated a royal pedestal draped in royal cloth at the
center of the royal dance floor. Off to
one side, a royal band of minstrels tuned their instruments.
Presently
a stout man with facial hair so long, it nearly hid his short, round torso
waddled to the center of the floor and stood near the pedestal. He held his hands up to the crowd for silence
and after several minutes the room was quiet.
From
somewhere beneath his beard, the stout man produced a scroll and unrolled it
with a flourish. “Hear ye, Hear ye,” he
proclaimed. “Let it be known that on
this day there will be a great contest.
Cinderella of the Kingdom challenges Dorothy of Oz to a dance-off. A winner-take-all competition for…” and here
he paused to examine the scroll for a moment.
“…for…uh…shoes.”
The
crowd, made up almost entirely of women, erupted in a tumultuous cheer. The few men in attendance, presumably there
to witness a catfight, applauded discreetly.
The
stout man rolled the scroll tightly and muttered, “That’s how I roll,” before
slipping it back beneath his beard. He
reached out a hand and snatched the royal cloth off the pedestal to reveal two
pair of slippers, one made entirely of glass and the other encrusted with
rubies. The crowd gasped collectively, and
one man in the front row suddenly leapt to his feet in excitement. Presently, the minstrels began to play.
From
the east entrance, Cinderella entered the arena, and from the west came
Dorothy. They were both barefoot. They stood side-by-side at the center of the
room while the crowd bellowed, and turned to face the spectators along each of
the four walls.
The
stout man held his arms up again and the crowd grew instantly silent. There was a great flutter of wings from above
as Glinda’s bubble descended through the skylight surrounded by hundreds of
bluebirds. She drifted slowly down until
her bubble burst on the floor. The
bluebirds collapsed all around as she walked to each girl and hugged them. “How exciting,” she said.
“The
battle will consist of three rounds,” announced the stout man. “Each lady will perform a dance of their
choosing and Glinda will be the sole judge.
She will declare the winner and award the shoes to that person. Her decision will be final and we shall all
abide by her verdict.” The crowd erupted
again, and the man in the front row nearly fainted.
“As
this is Cinderella’s home, Dorothy of Oz shall go first.” The stout man lifted the pedestal and carried
it off the dance floor, gently pushing exhausted bluebirds out of his way with
the toe of his boot.
The
minstrels resumed as Glinda and Cinderella left the dance floor, picking up
bluebirds along the way.
Dorothy
of Oz raised her arms above her head, and brought them down dramatically with a
heavy strum of the mandolin. She leapt
and twirled and mesmerized the crowd who had never seen such movement. Spinning faster and faster as the music
swelled, Dorothy leapt high in the air and landed in the splits.
The
crowd jumped to their feet and the man in the front row actually ran from the
room in his excitement. They cheered for
a full three minutes and only calmed down when Dorothy walked off.
The
music started again, slow and melodic, as Cinderella entered from the opposite
side of the room. She began her dance
with a curtsy to the crowd and then twirled and danced with an elegance and
grace rarely seen outside the castle walls.
While Dorothy’s dance had been filled with an angry sort of beauty,
Cinderella’s commanded the room with its simple sophistication. As the music faded, she finished as she had
begun, with a curtsy. The crowd sat in
stunned silence trying to catch their collective breath. They’d witnessed a magical performance.
Dorothy
erupted onto the stage for her second dance with her hair flowing free around
her face, no longer retrained by pigtails. She performed a strange dance full
of jerky half movements and angry screams that left the audience stunned.
Cinderella
followed with a dance where she was carried by servants for most of it to give
the appearance of flying.
For
their final performance, they shared the stage and battled head-to-head to a
fast number played by the minstrels. Spinning madly and flipping her hair
around, Cinderella twirled in a spirited tribal dance from the farthest reaches
of the kingdom, while Dorothy laid some woven mat on the floor and spun on her
hips and back, legs in the air. The
dance was intense and both girls were out of breath at the end of it.
As
the crowd applauded, Glinda rolled inside her bubble across the floor, her bluebirds
still recovering, and stepped out.
“My,
that was exhilarating.” Glinda motioned for both girls to stand next to her. “I
don’t know how I will ever choose, you both deserve to be crowned the
winner.” She sighed. “But choose I must
and so the winner of this dance-off is…”
A
scream cut her off mid-sentence and a hand maiden rushed out. “Milady,” she curtsied to Glinda. “The shoes, they’re missing!”
“What!?”
shouted Cinderella.
The
maiden handed her a note and Cindy unfolded and it read.
Royal
Order of Repossession.
By
order of the royal credit bureau, both pairs of shoes have been repossessed. Glinda
and her shoe habit have grown out of control and until payment can be made in
full, said shoes shall remain unavailable.
Cinderella
glanced to the empty chair in the front row where the excited little man had
been and then at Glinda, who only shrugged.
END
END
