Scarborough Fair and Other Stories (11 page)

“Well, if you only had a bit of self-discipline I'm sure you could have—“ her mother continued, but her voice trailed off as the King sat up.

“I suppose now you're here and have had a taste of ruling, you with your own sorceress and that hulking bodyguard of yours, you'll be wanting me to abdicate and name you as heir instead of your brother?”

“Hardly,” she said, sighing. “I'm exhausted. I was just trying to keep the kingdom together for you until you get well, Daddy. You and Mother and Larry, who is welcome to the crown for all I'm concerned. I don't know what I'll do but I'm not about to hang around here waiting for suitors. Maybe I'll go tend lepers or something instead. I rather liked being needed when I thought Fifi was blind.”

But just then Burl rushed in, and fell to one knee before her. “Barbara—I mean, Your Highness, Princess Babette, I know—“ confused, he turned to the King and Queen and said earnestly, “I know I ran away before even attempting to take your tests. I was so ashamed I didn't go home, but got lost in the woods and took up woodcutting and adopted Fifi for my mother. But I love Barbara—I love you, Barbara.”

“I love you too, Burl,” she said. “But we were sort of in the middle of a family discussion.”

“That's just it,” he said. “I want to be your family—I want you to be MY family.”

“You can't be proposing to her!” the Queen said. “Her wedding day will be a disaster. We'll never find enough silk in the world to make her a gown.”

Fifi appeared. “That's no problem for a girl with a fairy godmother.” Fifi tapped her foot. “
Which
I might add, she can certainly use when her own mother has her priorities so out of order.”

“Barbara, a messenger just came to tell me I've inherited my father's throne.”

“You're a younger son, Burlingame,” the King said. “I distinctly remember that. It's why you were placed at the end of the line of suitors to be tested.”

“Well, my elder brother finally decided to run away with another prince he met while
he
was waiting in line for your daughter's hand, Sire,” Burl replied. “And I am next in line for succession. So I have to leave. But I want you to come with me, Barbara.”

Babette began to cry, with both weariness and happiness, “Oh, Burl, I love you with all my heart and being with you is the happiest place I can think of. Ever so much better than nursing lepers, though if you have any lepers in your kingdom, of course, I'd be happy to run a charity on their behalf. Is Fifi coming too? And Madeline.

“Anyone you want,” he said. “But we must be wed in a hurry.”

“You must be mad!” the Queen scoffed. “Surely you want to wait until she's done her cure and had her curse removed!”

“Madame, my Barbara is a Princess fit for any King,” Burl—King Burl actually, said formally.

“And in case you hadn't noticed,” Fifi said, “The curse has ended.”

“Nonsense,” said Prince Larry. “Look at Babette! She's still round as a butterball.”

He couldn't hurt Babette's feelings now though and she peeked out from under Burl's armpit and winked at her brother.

“But—by my sword, Mother, Father, look at her! The curse
is
lifted! She
is
beautiful!”

Her parents both looked at her and her mother gasped. “But how can that be?”

Fifi shrugged. “It's the same principle as the frog thing. A little genuine affection does a great deal to improve anyone and true love works miracles. So, Your Majesty, have you got a list?”

As it turned out, the wedding was somewhat delayed while King Burl and Princess Babette, chaperoned by Fifi La Fey and Madeline and their retainers, returned to Burl's kingdom for his father's funeral.

Meanwhile, throughout Babette's kingdom, the ladies of fashion who had watched their princess and her fiance ride away said to each other, “Really, tell me honestly? I'm looking far too thin and pale, aren't I? Did you
see
Her Highness? Did you
see
how he looked at her? She was radiant! Such dimples! Such ample curves. Please pass the chocolates. I've ordered a dress to be made in the style of hers and I simply
must
fill it out in time for the wedding.”

by

Elizabeth Ann Scarborough

Sassafras was but seven and a half weeks old when her mama finally died. Spring was cold and there were lots of other cats in the barn where Sass was born, which meant very little for a mama cat whose insides were not quite right anymore and an unripe kitten.

“Don't die, Mama. I been watchin' that Sally Cat and I think I can do what she does and hop us a mouse for supper. I will miss you, Mama.”

Her mama had shushed her and pinned her down with a paw to wash her face one last time. “Mousin' will come soon enough, baby. But what you got to do is get yourself out of this barn. Barn cattin' ain't a good life for such as us. You know you had six brothers and sisters that perished before you and only you, with that little caul on your face, was born the right way. Did I mention that when I was born I had the same circumstance? And I have come to this barn late in my career, just long enough to deliver my younguns before I die too.

“But you, baby girl, you are a special one just like I was and it's up to you to play fate like a mouse and make it feed you.” She licked the long fur of Sassafras's calico face. Sassafras bore red and white patches and a black ear on the blue-eyed side, and black and white patches with a red ear on the green-eyed. The effect was lopsided but fetching, her mama had always said anyway. The other cats hissed her and told her she was ugly.

“Who is fate? Would she really feed me? I heard old Tom Fool say he was gonna kill me soon's you died.”

“Don't give him the chance. I want you out of this barn right away. You have to go look for your true callin' and to do that you will need help. Town help. You have a pretty face and winnin' ways and if you're willin' to play the handy mouse-catcher for a time, you can stay alive in the home of some doting town-dweller while you look for your boon companion.”

“I got a boon companion, Mama? Other than you?”

“Not yet but you will have one soon or you will likely die. I never have told you how I come to be so low as birthin' my kits in a barn, and I ain't got time to tell you all of it now, but it was through the loss of my own boon companion. One more thing I will say before I gasp my last, little gal, and that is look among the young and healthy for your own first. They tend to hold up better.”

Sassafras's mama shushed her with another one of the lullabies she purred to her all the time, but after awhile she broke off and didn't say anything else. Sassafras licked her and tried to nurse but it didn't do any good. All the milk was gone, and so was the warmth, the strength, the protection and the tender care Mama had given the kitten for the whole of her short life.

Presently along came ol' Tom Fool who, seeing the situation for what it was, took a swipe at the orphaned kitten, missed and smacked her poor dead mama on the ear so hard his claws got stuck. That made Sassafras so mad the anger inside her swelled up as big as a house and blazed out of her eyes so it liked to fry Tom Fool.

He knew he was in trouble too, cause he dragged Sass's mama a little ways across the floor trying to loose his claws, and when he did, he ran away, just as Sass growled and pounced.

She nudged her mama back into her sleeping pose, and lay down beside her again, but she knew this was the end of her and the barn. Ol' Tom Fool or some other cat would be after her now that she had no mama to look after her. So when all the other cats were sleepin' in the hay, Sassafras picked herself up and took herself out of the barn and onto the long bumpy dirt road leading off the property to another long road that led to town. It was a far piece and a cold journey for a little bitty kit but fortunately, Sassafras was a longhair, and she would curl up tight in the crook of a tree limb and take her a little nap when she was tired.

One time (because during that period she didn't count by days and nights but by waking and sleeping spells) after she woke up, she heard a lot of noise and felt the sun on the parts of her not shaded by the tree limbs.

Looking down from her perch, she saw she was outside a building and there were a lot of human kittens playing in the yard. These were young and strong, just like her mama had said for her to get, but they could also be mean and cruel, as she knew from Tom Fool's story of how he came to lose his tail to deceitful boys with tin cans and fire crackers.

She watched those children all day long, studying them to see if one of them might be her boon companion.

One little gal sat off by herself reading and Sass was drawn to her. She jumped down from the tree limb and sat in the corner of the schoolroom window, under the branch of a bush growing up against the building. She watched that little girl read. And cough. She coughed over and over, her mouth funneling into her hand, her eyes tearing up. With her common sense as well as her second sight, Sassafras figured that while this child might be young, she was not strong. More than likely she'd be gone before spring came again.

None of the others looked just right. The teacher looked nice but her gown was flecked with many colors of cat fur. Sass reckoned others had a claim on teacher before her.

While the children were in class Sassafras hunted the playground looking for a drop of spilled milk, a little bite of something to tide her body over. Not much was left behind by the hungry youngsters but she did find a dropped bite of chicken sandwich and gobbled it up.

School let out and as the children passed by her bush Sassafras stared hard at each one. This one cared more for dogs, that one was allergic to cats, another one liked cats but except for that didn't have a brain in her poor little head.

Sassafras followed after them at a safe distance. It got darker and colder and pretty soon she was going to have to find another place to nap. But what she really needed the most was some more food. That previous morsel had filled up her little belly good at the time, but it was long gone now.

As she padded along the one rutty windy road, something kept trying to lure her off it, out into the fields again, but she didn't give it any heed. She'd go hunting later on for a mouse small enough she could hop it without too much fear of bodily harm. Right now she needed to make tracks.

When it began to snow, she sat down on her haunches, curled her tail around her, and looked up at the whiteness coming down from the skies. It was pretty. It was cold. She said, “mew,” in a complaining kind of way, just to let that fate gal know that she did not like the way this was going so far.

The town was a long way off. Or so she thought, until after awhile when she came to a crossroads. There were no signs and if there had been, she couldn't have read them.

Since it didn't much matter which way she went, she closed her eyes, ran round widdershins following her own tail as fast as she could go and as many times as she could before she got almost too dizzy to stand, then she staggered off in the nearest direction.

She opened her eyes and stared up at the bottom of the grill of a great big old truck about to run right over her. Before she could run, the truck squealed like a rabbit and stopped and a gal in great big galoshes and a heavy coat jumped out.

One hand smelling like soap cupped Sassafras's entire body while another hand slid under her tail and back paws and scooped her up so she was looking straight into freckles and a pair of thick spectacles. “Little kitty, you almost made catsup,” the gal said. “What you doin' out here in the middle of the road in the middle of the winter anyway? You got no home, have you? Well, you do now.” And with no more ceremony than that, the gal lowered Sassafras into one of the big pockets in the front of the wool coat and they got back in the truck.

As soon as Sass got herself turned around, she crawled up to the top of the pocket and looked around. The landscape whizzed by at a speed faster than she could run and she mewed in dismay at such a thing.

The gal lowered one finger and stroked Sass between the ears. “Hush up, little kitty, Sophy's gonna take care of you now. Nothin' gonna get you with Sophy here. We'll take you home and show you to Mama. She'll be glad to see somethin' as little and pretty as you. She doesn't get to see much these days.”

That was because Sophy's mama was not long for the world. She was dying and that was a fact. Had there been any question in anyone's mind at all that Sassafras was coming to stay at the farmhouse with Sophy, Sass put paid to it by making herself indispensable. She took turns comforting Sophy's mama, purring her to sleep, then comforting Sophy while she rested from her labor of running the farm and taking care of her mama.

Sassafras plumb exhausted her own small self just helping out. When the day came that Sophy's mama finally passed and it was time to bury her, Sass guarded the house while Sophy went with the other relatives to the graveyard.

It was a good thing too. The house needed guarding. Before Sophy had returned from her mama's grave, there was a loud-mouthed skinny woman with stiff looking yellow head fur and a thin sour mouth tapping on the door and peering through the windows, then poking around outside. Pretty soon she was joined by a heavyset gal with eyebrows that looked like they'd been drawn on her face with one claw.

Sass just looked at them, then the heavyset one pulled a key out of her purse and unlocked the door and walked in, bold as brass. “I know Melinda kept it around here somewhere,” she said. “I always admired it even when we was small and she told me long time ago I could have it when she died. That was way back before she saddled herself with that horse of a girl.”

“Well, she took the punch bowl and serving set our Granny meant to leave to me and I mean to have that back too. And Sonny is bringing the truck later for Aunt Thea's sideboard and brass bed.” But the woman didn't seem to be looking for the things she was talking about. Sass saw her pawing through the books on the shelves, especially the cookbooks up above the stove. While her back was turned, Sass skittered away down the hall. Behind her she heard the sound of doors and cabinets opening and slamming shut again.

“While he's at it maybe he'll load up that television and home entertainment center Melinda got last year. She barely used it and I offered to buy it from her when she got sick but she said I could just have it later. That girl won't need it when she goes back to the orphanage. No sense in it goin' to waste.”

“No indeed. And Melinda borrowed a recipe book from my Aunt Ally before the dear old soul died. I want it back for sentimental reasons.”

Sass hid behind Sophy's mama's pillow and closed her eyes tight, trying to make herself invisible as the two horrible women rummaged through the house. In her mind's eye Sass saw them picking up bits and pieces wherever they went, figurines, knickknacks, a set of knives, whatever they could stuff into their pockets and purses.

They were just still poking around when Sophy came home, her eyes all red and her shoulders sagging. Both of them made for the door like they were just going when Sophy came in.

“Hello, Sylvie,” one of them said and Sassafras could tell the old gal knew Sophy's real name but was callin' her the wrong one out of contrariness, like she wasn't important enough to take notice of what she was called. “We just came to check the refrigerator to see what you might be needing. I know people will probably be bringing by cakes and casseroles and you can't possibly eat all of that by yourself. We'll be glad to take any of it off your hands so you don't have to get fat or risk offendin' people by lettin' their baked goods spoil,” said the woman. Her shoes, in spite of the winter weather, were skinny little sandals on long narrow feet white as plucked chickens with blue veins standing out on them.

“Speakin' of which,” said the other one, whose puffy feet spilled out over the tops of new black patent plastic pumps, “Your mama borrowed an old recipe book offa me and I want it back. You seen it? It's got a red and white checked oilcloth cover.”

Sophy shook her head and, trembling with anger, waited silently while they left, their purses and pockets clanking with things they'd stolen.

Sophy slammed the door behind them and plopped herself down at the kitchen table with her head resting on her clenched fists. Sass jumped up beside her on the table, glad the old biddies hadn't managed to cart it off yet. She inserted herself in the crook of Sophy's elbow and mewed inquiringly.

“Poor little kitty, you probably haven't had a bite to eat or a drop to drink this live long day and for that matter, I haven't either for all their going on about casseroles. If I was to take any casseroles to those two, I'd lace ‘em with rat p'ison first.”

Once Sophy fixed Sass some supper, the girl looked inclined to sit and cry again. Sass felt it was her bound duty to do something cute and bewitching that would keep her gal from foggin' up her glasses again. So, selflessly taking no heed of her own hunger, the kitten leaped over to the kitchen counter and stretched up to the cup rack where she tapped a tiny paw on Sophy's favorite mug. The one with the cat on it. Then Sassafras walked over to sit beside the tea kettle on the stove-top and wait for Sophy to get the idea. It only took three repeats, but Sass was patient and considerate of her new friend's fragile emotional state. When the girl didn't pay her any mind after the third try, Sass jumped back onto the table and gently, patiently, and considerately sank a single claw into the hand Sophy was using to crumple the Kleenex to her nose.

Sophy screeched, batted half a foot from where Sass had been, and dabbed at her hand with the end of the Kleenex. Sass, now that she had Sophy's attention, went through her routine again, tapping the mug and sitting by the teapot again.

“Bossy little thing, aren't you?” Sophy asked with a sniff. “I had no idea kittens drank tea.” But filled the kettle and put it back on the stove, stuck a teabag that had only been used once before into her cup, and calmed down some.