Midnight Snack and Other Fairy Tales Read Free Page B

producer.
    “And I spend how long as this cat?” she said, riffling through the script.
    “Until the spell’s broken,” said the director.
    “That’s almost the whole story,” said the Beautiful Princess. “Do I really want this on my CV? That I spent a whole story as a cat?”
    “It’s a tremendous ending,” said the producer. “Trust me. Besides, everybody knows the cat’s not really a cat. Even the prince knows it. Think of how the suspense will build. When the audience finally sees you, they’ll never forget it.”
    She raised her eyebrows again. I held my breath. “Well, I don’t know,” she said. But at the same time, I saw her steal a glance at the youngest Prince: and as she did, she saw that he was stealing a glance at her , with just the slightest smile.
    The moment held. “All right,” she said, letting her gaze fall to the script again, “let’s see what happens—”
    I let the breath out. It was going to be all right…
    “So dinner was brought in, and the two of them started to talk, and the Prince discovered that they were both interested in the same kinds of things…so that they were so busy talking, they nearly forgot to eat, and sat there until late in the evening, while the musicians played. Then finally the White Cat reluctantly rose, signaling that the evening was over. The youngest Prince rose with her, and knelt to take her paw and kiss it; and as he bent over it, he saw that on a bracelet there she wore a miniature painted with the face of a man who looked much like him. For the time being, the Prince said nothing, but bade her good night, and went to the bedroom to which the hands conducted him.”
    “Right,” said the youngest Prince. “A lookalike? A prophecy? A curse?”
    “All three,” said the director, “and he catches on as fast as you have. It’s in the backstory: fairies had it in for her, intended her to marry another guy, she fell for this prince in the miniature instead, he gets killed and she turns into a cat until she finds another prince who looks like the first one and’ll fall in love with her.—So the next morning the Prince gets up and finds that she’s prepared a hunt for him. Off they go, and after the hunt there’s a feast, and after that, a ball back at the palace; and the Prince and the White Cat become inseparable. He gets another look at that miniature, and the guy might be his twin. But he doesn’t say anything for the time being.
    “The next day is like the one before, full of entertainments that the White Cat prepares for him: and the day after that, and the week after that, and the month after that, the same. They’re never bored. Every night they’re up late talking, every day they’re out together having a good time, until the Prince finds it really hard to keep in mind why he came to her castle in the first place.”
    “Somebody else must be taking care of the dogs,” said the First Prince.
    “They are,” said the director. “I should put in a note about that.” He pulled a pad over and scribbled on it.
    “And when the Prince does remember his quest,” said the producer, “he says to himself, Oh, it’s all right, I’ve got eleven months left. Or ten. Or whatever. I’ll deal with it shortly. But he never does. And then one day at dinner, the White Cat says to him, ‘You know, Prince, in a week you’re scheduled to be back at your father’s palace with the prettiest little dog imaginable.’
    “She’s right, of course. He’s horrified that he’s let things go on this long. But at the same time he hates to leave her. She just laughs at him, though, and says, ‘It’s all right. If you leave tomorrow, you’ll be back in time. And I’ve got your perfect little dog right here.’
    “So the Prince is relieved. The next morning, after breakfast, the Cat tells him to get ready for his journey: and she meets him out front of the palace with some of her cat-courtiers, who lead up a white horse, all beautifully saddled