Category: Fairy Tales and Other Stories Remix

Flashback Friday: Wishing for Wishes

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This story was originally posted on July 25, 2017. I like the idea of this story. I think it would be even better as a longer story with more explanation and such. (For example, how does the alligator talk to everyone? Is he a normal alligator?) Maybe someday I’ll sit down and write that story.

The alligator swam as quickly as he could.  The rainbow was fading.  “Wait,” he said.  Instead of waiting, the rainbow started to fade a little faster. Fortunately, alligators are faster in water than on land, and this rainbow ended over water.

With a final burst of speed, he dove under the water and sat on the pot of gold.  A few seconds later, a leprechaun popped into view.  It flailed its arms and legs for a moment, and then surrounded itself and the alligator and the gold in a bubble of air.

“Give me back my gold, you big lizard,” the leprechaun said.  “What would you do with gold anyway?”

“Maybe I’m turning into a dragon and need to build a hoard,” the alligator said.

The leprechaun’s mouth dropped open.  “You can do that?” he asked in a squeaky voice.

The alligator snorted.  “No, of course not.  I just want a wish.  Grant me a wish and you can have your gold back.”

The leprechaun shut his mouth and scowled.  “I won’t be granting a wish to something with teeth like that.  Keep the gold.  It will do you no good.”  The leprechaun folded its arms and disappeared with a crack.  The bubble of air disappeared with him.

The alligator waited another half hour underwater and then gave in.  Even he would need to go up to breathe eventually.  Once he left, the leprechaun would come for the gold.  He could take it with him, but what was the point?  He didn’t want the gold.  He wanted the wish.  And the leprechaun made it clear how he felt about that.

This was not the first time or the second or third time the alligator had been denied a chance for a wish.  He’d wished on the first star.  He’d found a stray campfire to blow out on his birthday.  He caught a leaf as it fell.  He held his breath as he ran through a tunnel.

Every time, a fairy popped in front of him and told him that their wishes were not for alligators and to stop wasting their time.  No one asked him what his wish was or told him how alligators could get wishes.  It just wasn’t fair.

However, alligators are stubborn, and this one wasn’t any different.  He had a wish, and he was going to find a way to get it.  It wasn’t one he could work towards on his own, so he needed to find help.  Well, he’d just keep looking.

He caught a fish and let it go.  The fish laughed at him and swam away.  He rubbed a camping lantern with his paws.  The genie popped out, grabbed the lantern and vanished.  He blew the seeds off a white puffy dandelion.  A fairy appeared, gathered all the scattered seeds and blew a raspberry at him.  “If you try this one more time, I’ll send the fairy princess to stop you.  She’ll turn you into a beetle,” the fairy said.

The alligator did not give up.  There had to be a way for alligators to get wishes.  And then one morning, he heard a faint cry for help.  He rushed towards the voice.  He found a frog cornered by a snake.  The alligator knocked the snake out of the way.

The snake looked up, and his expression went from angry and annoyed to terrified.  The alligator grinned to show all his teeth, and the snake slithered away.  “I’m doomed,” the frog said.  “I’ve gone from the frying pan into the fire.”

“Nonsense,” the alligator said.  “Did you know that you are speaking in English and not Frog?”

“I am?” the frog said.  “That would have made things a little easier, I suppose.  If I wasn’t about to be eaten.”

“You have a feel of magic around you, and you don’t talk Frog.  I’m not going to eat you,” the alligator said.  “So, tell me your story.”

“I’m an inventor.  I invented a self-flying broom.  It made the witches’ guild angry, and they turned me into a frog.  I can only become human again if a princess kisses me.  In this day and age, I think that’s a near impossibility.” The frog sighed.

“Does it have to be a human princess?” the alligator asked.

“They didn’t say,” the frog said.

“Then it doesn’t.  Follow me,” the alligator said.  He went to the meadow and picked a white, fluffy dandelion and blew.  A majestic, angry looking fairy appeared.

She glared at the alligator.  “You were warned,” she said.  She lifted her arm.

“Wait,” the alligator said.  “This human needs your help.”

The fairy princess turned and looked at the frog.  Her eyes narrowed.  “He looks like a frog, but there is magic surrounding him.  Tell me, frog, how did this happen?”

“I was cursed by witches.  I can turn back if a princess kisses me.”  His voice shook.

“Oh, very well.  I never did like witches, so I wouldn’t mind spoiling their plans,” the fairy princess said.  She blew a kiss at the frog, and in a swirl of light he became human again.  “There,” she said.  “Now their spells won’t work on you.”

Then the fairy princess turned and glared at the alligator again.  “As for you, knock it off.”  She disappeared in a clap of thunder.

“What was that about?” the inventor asked.

“The fairies refuse to give wishes to alligators,” the alligator said.  “It isn’t fair.”

“What is your wish?” the inventor asked.

“I want to fly,” the alligator said.

“So that it’s easier to catch and eat things?” the inventor asked.

“No.  So I can fly.  I mostly eat fish, and flying wouldn’t make it any easier to catch them,” the alligator said.

“Well then,” the inventor said.  “I think I can help you.”

A few months later, the alligator was darting around in a rocket-propelled suit.  It was as amazing as he’d always dreamed it would be.

Little Monster Goes to the Dentist

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It was that terrible, horrible, awful, scary time of year again. No, it wasn’t Halloween. That would have been much, much better. It was time for Little Monster to go to the dentist.

“My teeth are fine,” Little Monster said. He smiled a wide, sharp-toothed grin. “See? They’re all there and they work great. Why bother the dentist?”

Mama Monster rolled her large yellow eyes. “It won’t bother the dentist. It’s her job to check on monster teeth so they stay healthy.”

Little Monster coughed a little, unconvincing cough. “I think I have a cold. We’d better not spread it around. We might as well reschedule.”

“Hmmmm.” Mama Monster picked up her purse. “We’ll let them know when we check in, but I think it’ll be fine.”

On the way to the door, Little Monster fell dramatically over a chair. “Ouch! I think I broke both my legs. I’d better go lie down.”

Mama Monster scooped him up and carried him out to the car. “I guess I’ll make an appointment with the doctor as well.”

Little Monster sat up straight in his booster seat, looking worried. “Actually, I think my leg is all better now. I don’t need to see the doctor.”

“Well, that’s good.” Mama Monster started the car and drove to the dentist’s office.

At the front door, Little Monster paused. “Are you sure we need to go to the dentist today? Wouldn’t another day be better? We should think about this. I think it’s a bad idea. Remember my cold?” Little Monster coughed another little cough.

Mama Monster opened the door. “Come in and sit down. I’ll let the receptionist know about your cold.” Little Monster sat in a terrible pink chair with a scowl. Mama Monster walked up to the front desk. “Little Monster thinks he might have a cold.”

“That’s fine,” the receptionist said. “The dentist wears a mask and gloves.”

At that moment, Little Monster knew that he was going to actually see the dentist and there wasn’t much he could do about it. It’s not easy being a little monster. He decided that someday he would get to choose whether or not to visit the dentist. He would choose to not visit the dentist.

All too soon, Little Monster was sitting on an awful dentist chair decorated with horrible rainbows. The dentist came out wearing a frightening people mask and people gloves. Little Monster screamed. Mama Monster and the dentist chuckled as the dentist changed her mask and gloves to something more normal.

Little Monster didn’t think it was funny.

“Have you been brushing your teeth?” the dentist asked, leaning his chair back.

Little Monster smiled widely. “Yes. I brush everyday with my brussel sprout toothpaste.”

“Oh, the green slimey one? I love that toothpaste,” the dentist said.

“So, since I brush everyday, I don’t need to be here, right?” Little Monster tried to sit up.

Mama Monster put a paw on his shoulder. “Nice try.”

“Open up,” the dentist said.

The next twenty minutes weren’t so bad. Unfortunately, after the dentist finished poking Little Monster’s teeth with something sharp, she turned to Mama Monster and said something scary. “His teeth look boring.”

“Oh no,” Mama Monster said. “I was afraid of that. I kept hoping they’d get more crooked as he got older.”

“I’m afraid that if you don’t do anything, they’ll remain straight as straight can be.”

Little Monster crossed his arms and glared. This was hard to do when lying in a dentist chair, but Little Monster was always good at glares. “I like straight teeth.”

Mama Monster shook her head sadly. “The other monsters at school might tease you.”

“I don’t care.” Little Monster turned his head away from the dentist. “They’re my teeth, and I like them. I don’t want braces.”

Mama Monster sighed.

“Maybe we can wait until he’s a little older.” The dentist clicked a few keys on her computer keyboard. “But the later you start, the later it will be until he’s done. I’ll send you home with some brochures. We can customize his look. We have a lot of options for artful, attention-getting crooked teeth.”

“I want to go home,” Little Monster whined.

“Not yet,” the dentist said. “You still need to get your teeth cleaned.”

“But I brush them every day,” Little Monster said. No one listened. Little Monster resolved to catch the flu next time he had an appointment. He never wanted to go to a dentist appointment again.

Philosophical Discussion Over Spring Water

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Winterborn listened to the breeze rustle through his leaves and felt the sharp chill of the spring water in his roots and the warm sun at his back. The forest hummed with all the living that seems to burst into a crescendo in the summertime.

Louder still were the footsteps that approached the spring. Winterborn opened his eyes, just enough to see the visitor. The light that filtered through his leaves made dappled patterns on the surface of the spring. A little elf with hair the color of new leaves sat on the bank of the spring, legs crossed. He nodded at Winterborn. “Father of this glen, may I share this spring?”

“The spring is here for all who are in need, child.” Winterborn watched as the elf took a small white cup by the handle and dipped it in the spring, leaving rings of ripples.

The elf sipped the water and smiled. “The water is sweet.”

“Perhaps.”

A butterfly landed on one of the blossoms of a nearby bush. The elf put down his cup and leaned forward to look more closely. “Two delicate and beautiful creatures. Sisters in spirit, both at the height of their beauty.”

Winterborn shook his branches in laughter. Elves loved poetry and appearances. “I don’t think that’s quite right. One would have to be the younger sister, yet to reach her metamorphosis.”

The elf turned the cup in his hands. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s a berry bush. The blossom is like a caterpillar, waiting for its change into the bright berry.”

“But a berry isn’t as lovely as a blossom,” the elf protested. “The blossom is so delicate and fleeting, more like the lovely butterfly.”

“Many think that children are more charming than adults. They are certainly more delicate. But I think that the squirrel and the rabbit who visit this bush in late summer would be happy to debate with you over the loveliness of the berries.”

“So flowers are like caterpillars?” The elf looked at the blossoms suspiciously. “That just doesn’t seem right.”

“It depends on the flower. All fruit comes from flowers, but that does not mean that all flowers become fruits.”

The elf watched the butterfly float on the breeze and choose another blossom to land on. “Do some butterflies become something else?”

“No, butterflies are like flowers that never grow into anything else.” Winterborn stretched out his branches just a tiny bit further into the sunlight.

“Like children who won’t grow up?” The elf was still watching the butterfly.

“No, like elves or trees that grow to the right size and then don’t change at all.”

“Ah.” The elf sipped his spring water and was quiet for a while.

A stronger breeze swept through the glade around the spring, scattering a few loose leaves and whisking the butterfly away.

The elf looked up from his cup. “But should we change and become something better?”

Winterborn’s branches shook again in laughter. “Can’t we become better without becoming something else?”

“But the butterfly and the berry blossom…” The elf began, and then paused as if uncertain what he wanted to say next.

“The butterfly and the berry blossom are not trees or elves or rabbits or squirrels. They have their growth to attend to just as we have ours. If there is life and growth and improvement, does it matter that it looks different for each one?”

The elf smiled and put his cup away. “Truly you are wise, father tree.”

“Perhaps. I have had more years to stand and think. Your wisdom will come if you continue to think and ask questions.”

The elf stood. “May I come again?”

“The spring is here for all who are in need, child.”

The elf walked away, back the way he came. Winterborn closed his eyes and listened to the breeze rustle through his leaves and felt the sharp chill of the spring water in his roots.

The Secret Pen Pal

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It began the evening that the king and his family were standing on a balcony, smiling and waving to the knights who were preparing to battle in a tournament. “Maybe we could let the winner marry our youngest,” the king said to his wife.

“That’s a terrible idea,” the queen said.

“It might make it more interesting,” the king said.

The youngest princess calmly shoved him. The king stumbled and an arrow thwacked into the wall where he’d been standing. Everyone on the balcony crouched to hide behind the stone wall.

“Where did the arrow come from?” the queen asked. She turned to the youngest princess. “Did you see it coming?”

Outside the balcony, they could hear shouting. Another arrow hit the wall above their heads. The oldest princess started herding her husband and children inside. The others followed, all of them crawling to stay hidden.

Once inside, the doors closed, the family waited for word from the guards. The foolish archer was a knight from a nearby kingdom who believed he had some claim on the throne through a third cousin. He was quickly caught and thrown in the dungeons.

“I think you saved my life,” the king told his youngest daughter that evening at dinner.

“Does that mean you owe me a favor?” the princess clapped her hands. “Good! I want to marry my pen pal.”

“You’re still writing your pen pal?” the queen asked.

“Of course I am. We’re best friends.” The princess deliberately took the third fork in instead of the second. Her mother frowned.

The king looked confused. “What pen pal?” He absently picked up the third fork as well. Everyone at the table switched forks.

The queen leaned forward and patted his arm. “The one she’s been writing to since she was eleven.”

The king thought for a moment. “I thought we didn’t know who was sending those letters. They just started showing up one day.”

“That’s right.” The queen set aside her fork with a sigh.

The king leaned in and whispered. “I thought we decided it was an imaginary friend. I thought all the letters were in her handwriting.”

“I heard that.” The princess dropped her fork and narrowed her eyes. She picked up the second spoon in and started eating her potatoes.

The queen rolled her eyes. “You haven’t met your pen pal. He might be anybody at all. Why don’t you meet him first?”

“Invite him to the palace for a week,” the king said. He absently switched his fork for his second spoon. The queen sighed as everyone at the table switched from their fork to their spoon.

The princess grinned. “And if I like him, I can marry him, right? I did save your life, after all.”

“Very well,” the king said. He looked down as a piece of potato slipped off his spoon. “Why are we using spoons to eat potatoes?”

The next morning, the youngest princess brought her fountain pen to the breakfast table. When her older sister wanted to sit down next to her the youngest princess stopped her. “You can’t sit there, my pen pal is sitting in that chair.”

The queen leaned forward to look over the table. “That’s a pen.”

“He’s enchanted,” the princess said.

“Of course he is,” the queen said. She didn’t sound convinced.

The youngest princess took her fountain pen around with her everywhere that week. She introduced the pen to her friends and family as her fiance. The king and queen weren’t sure what to think.

At the end of the week, at dinner, the youngest princess turned to her father. “I still like him. I’d like to get married, just like you promised.”

“You want to marry your fountain pen?” The king looked over at the pen sitting on the chair next to his daughter.

“You promised,” the princess said.

“But it’s a pen. I’m not sure that’s legal,” the queen said.

“I saved the king,” the youngest princess said. “You promised.”

And so, two months later, the youngest princess walked down the aisle to meet the waiting fountain pen sitting on an embroidered pillow in front of the priest. As the priest started the ceremony, the pen started to glow.

Moments later, a handsome young man was sitting on the pillow. He was dressed in old-fashioned, but appropriately fancy clothes. He looked around for a moment, then grinned and stood. He grabbed the princess’s hands and they smiled at each other.

The priest had stopped speaking, and was staring at the young couple. The princess turned to look at him, still holding her unenchanted fiance’s hands. “Go on, then. We were just getting started.”

“I guess that explains why the letters were in her handwriting,” the king whispered to the queen. “I’m glad I won’t have a pen for a son-in-law.”

“Me too,” the queen whispered back. They all lived happily ever after.

Flashback Friday: The Rose Prince

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This story was originally posted on May 11, 2017. I like this story. It’s one I can imagine telling as a bedtime story and then turning it into a series of stories as the characters have further adventures. That’s the kind of story my kids like best.

One day, Princess Matilda cut through a rarely used courtyard in the older part of the castle. She was late to archery practice, so she was taking the shortcut.   Most people didn’t use the short cut, because there was a tall fence with spikes along the top at the end of the courtyard.

However, Princess Matilda wasn’t most people, and she knew the trick to climbing the fence. There were chips in a few of the stones in the wall of the castle next to the fence. If she ran straight at the wall and jumped, she could use the chipped spots as toeholds. If she climbed quickly enough and turned and jumped just right, she could sail right over the fence.

Of course this meant she had to tuck and roll to survive the fall without breaking anything, but that was part of the fun.   As long as she shook the dust and bits of grass out of her hair, no one had to know.

Halfway through the courtyard, Matilda paused.   There in a corner of the courtyard where some weeds had sprung up in cracks in the stonework, a little rosebush was growing. She would come back later. Matilda secretly loved roses. For now, she raced ahead, then turned and ran straight at the wall.

The next day she returned with tools she’d borrowed from a gardener. She cleared away the weeds and then sat by it. It looked so lonely standing by itself in the corner.   She told it a little about her day, and placed some pebbles around it in a ring. When she left, she promised to come back.

She came back often to clear away weeds or water the rosebush when it hadn’t rained in a while. She brought pretty pebbles or bits of wood that caught her eye and added them to the ring around the bush. Every time she came, she stopped to talk to the rose bush for a little while.

The rose bush grew and branched out. After several weeks, it sprouted a single bud.   Matilda began visiting more often, hoping to see what the blossom would look like once it bloomed. One day, she came to the courtyard early for archery class so that she had time to check in with her rosebush.

The flower had bloomed. It was a simple rose, but the fragrance filled the courtyard. It was lovely. Matilda leaned in closer and smelled the rose. It was wonderful. “You’re perfect!” she said. Then she kissed the soft petals.

The rosebush began to sparkle. It grew brighter and brighter until Matilda had to squint to look at it. Then there was a flash of light. Matilda blinked the stars from her vision, while holding her bow at the ready.

There was a young man standing where the rosebush had been. He was wearing glasses and his clothes were well made but practical. He was smiling. Princess Matilda frowned. “Who are you?” she asked.

He opened his mouth to speak, when there was another flash of light from the opposite side of the courtyard. Matilda turned, bow up and arrow notched, while stepping back so that the strange man was at her side rather than her back.

A young woman dressed in black was pointing a stick at her. Matilda’s eyes narrowed.   That was no ordinary stick. The woman raised her eyebrows and scowled.   “You broke my enchantment. You had no right to do that. I shall turn you both into frogs and let my cat chase you.”

Matilda shot an arrow through the top of the woman’s tall black hat. “Put your stick down,” she said. “Or next time I wont miss.” She notched her arrow. The woman lowered her wand.

“Hide here all you want, little prince,” the woman said.   “If you ever come back home, I’ll get you.” There was another flash of light and she was gone.

“So, you’re a prince who was turned into a rose bush?” Matilda asked.

“Well, I was turned into a seed that grew into a rosebush,” the prince said. “But otherwise, yes.”

“Why did she do it? Did she steal your kingdom or something?” Matilda asked.

“I have three older brothers. As far as I know, the kingdom is fine,” the prince said. “However, that woman was responsible for killing thousands of striped gilkie birds. She used their tongues in a hair removal potion. When I submitted a proposal to the court that the birds should be protected so that they didn’t all disappear, she got angry.”

“Hair removal potion? Do people like the bald look where you’re from?” the princess asked.

“No, they don’t like leg hair,” he said.

“Weird.”

“I know, right? Besides, if she hunted until the birds were all gone, she wouldn’t be able to make her potion anyway,” the prince said.

“That makes sense,” the princess said. “Did you explain it to her?”

“Sometimes people don’t want to listen. I tried to explain how everything is interconnected and everything relies on other things for survival. If you take out a link in the chain, you could have dangerous consequences. She muttered something about how the strong survive and that I’d see that nature wasn’t gentle.”

“Then she turned you into a seed?” Matilda asked.

“And tossed me into the wind,” the prince said.

“So, what’s your name,” Matilda asked.

“Frank. I’m sorry I hadn’t introduced myself, I feel like I know you so well after all your visits,” Frank said.

“Then I guess it’s my turn to get to know you better,” Matilda said. She smiled.   “I know something already.”

“What?”

“You still smell like roses. It’s nice.” She laughed as Frank tried sniffing his arm.

“I do?” he asked.

“Yes. Would you like to come in for sandwiches?” Matilda asked.

“Don’t you have archery class?” Frank asked.

“Oh, you’re right. Sandwiches can wait. Come cheer me on,” Matilda said. She stooped to pick up the black hat and pulled the arrow out of it. “Do you think she’ll come back for this?”

“I guess it depends on whether she needs it back or not,” Frank said.

“You’re probably right,” Matilda said. She stuffed it into her quiver. “Well, let’s go. I hate being late.”

Secret Passage

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Austin was at the library, looking through the history books. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he was sure he’d know it when he saw it. Whatever it was.

First, he took out a book about the history of flight and flipped through it. Nope. Then, a book about film history. Nope. He spotted a book about the history of pencils. A whole book about pencils? Interesting, but nope.

That was the end of the second shelf. He knelt down to read the titles on the bottom shelf, and walked sideways on his knees as he scanned each one. Just before he reached the end, something hit his arm as he side-walked. Ouch.

He turned, rubbing his arm, and looked down. There was a doorknob attached to the wall. There wasn’t a door, or even an outline for a door, and the doorknob was rather low. How strange.

Austin tried turning the knob, but it wouldn’t turn. It seemed to be locked, which didn’t make any sense. There wasn’t a keyhole, so how could it be locked? Besides, why would you lock the knob when there wasn’t even a door?

Wait a minute. Austin sat back on his heels and looked more closely at the wall. If the knob was locked, maybe there really was a door here after all. If it didn’t need a key, maybe there was a button or a lever somewhere.

Taking the books off the shelf one at a time didn’t work. He made sure to check the knob after each one, and it stayed locked. There was nothing behind the books, either. The wall seemed to be perfectly flat, other than the door knob.

He tried knocking on the wall as though it were a door. He tried tapping different patterns on the wall. He knocked and tapped quietly, of course. After all, this was a library. Nothing seemed to make any difference.

He tried stepping on each inch of carpet within sight of the door, but there were no clicking sounds, and all of the carpet felt the same. The adventure stories made this seem much easier.

What was next? Magic words. That sometimes worked. He really hoped they weren’t in a different language, because he didn’t know very many words in other languages. He counted to ten in Spanish. Nope. He tried random hissing sounds. Nope.

“Open Sesame.” Nope.

“Abracadabra.” Nope.

“You are a very lovely door.” Nope.

Austin sighed. “Please open.” There was a clicking sound. Austin turned the knob and the whole wall slid sideways, leaving an opening next to the bookshelf.

Inside, there was a short, dark hallway that turned sharply. A little light shone from around the corner. Cautiously, Austin stepped inside. If this was a secret passage for polite people, he needed to remember his manners. “Um, thank you?” The door slid shut.

Was that a good thing? Could he open it from the inside? He’d better check before going any further. “Please open.” The door opened. “Thank you.” It closed.

He walked forward and peeked around the corner. The next hallway was even shorter, and ended in a frosted glass door that was lit brightly from the inside. He thought about politeness and knocked quietly at the door.

A little monkey answered the door. He was wearing a suit and hovering in mid-air. This was probably because of his giant wings. Austin was a little surprised, but tried to continue to be polite. “Pardon me,” he said. “I found this secret passage by accident. I was curious.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” the winged monkey said. “You’re welcome to come in.”

“Thank you.” Austin stepped through the doorway.

The room inside looked like a lot of the other reading rooms in the library. It had comfortable chairs and a small window and shelves of books. There were a few other doors that perhaps led to other secret passages.

Unlike the other rooms, there was a large tank of water with a mermaid in it. A unicorn stood by the window. A short green person with one large eye was sitting in one of the chairs.

He briefly looked around at everyone in the room, but didn’t mention how strange they seemed. Politeness was important here, he knew that. So he didn’t say anything and instead walked over to the bookshelves and started looking at the books.

The history of leprechaun gold? Mermaid battles of the last five hundred years? Modern Sphinx riddles? This was more like it!

He pulled out the last book and looked for an empty chair. He found one and sat down. The room was quiet, except for the occasional sound of a page being turned. It was just right. Austin settled in to read. Being polite really paid off. It was almost magical.