The Rumpelstiltskin Problem (2 page)

"That's a fine idea," said the king. "What a clever troll you are!"

So, smiling—with his lips closed, of course, so no one would notice his sharp, pointed teeth—Rumpelstiltskin waved for the miller and his daughter to join them.

"Hello," the miller said to the king. "This is my daughter, Siobhan, and she can spin straw into gold."

"Excellent!" the king declared jovially. "Wonderful!" He handed the miller a gold coin.

"Thank you," the miller said, bowing and laughing, amazed that the troll's joke worked so well after all. The girl laughed, too, and curtsied.

"Siobhan shall come to my palace and spin gold for me," the king said.

"Ho, ho!" the miller chortled. "That's a good one, Your Highness."

The king motioned for his servants to help Siobhan up into the royal carriage.

Siobhan hesitated, and her father's smile wavered. Behind the servants, Rumpelstiltskin touched his gnarled fingers to the corners of his mouth, indicating for them to continue to smile.

"I'll return her to you in a day or two," the king said, "after she's finished spinning."

"The king certainly knows how to tell them," Rumpelstiltskin whispered encouragingly to the miller and his daughter.

The miller laughed again, though not quite so heartily, and Siobhan let herself be helped into the carriage.

The king motioned the driver to start, and the horses began moving the carriage down the street.

The miller waved until the carriage turned the corner, at which time he stopped waving, stopped smiling, and said, "But ... But..."

Rumpelstiltskin stepped back into the crowd and silently slipped away, like a mountain pretending to be part of the festivities.

***

That night, Rumpelstiltskin climbed the wall of the king's palace and entered the room that had been set aside for Siobhan. "Hello," Rumpelstiltskin said in his gravelly voice, looking approvingly at all the straw that the king had provided for her to spin.

Siobhan was wearing a beautiful gown that the king had given her, since she was his guest. She was sprawled on the bed with her hands over her stomach and she said, "That was the biggest and best meal I ever had."

"Well, that's nice," Rumpelstiltskin said. "There's nothing like dying on a full stomach."

"
Dining
on a full stomach?" Siobhan asked.

"Dying," Rumpelstiltskin repeated.

Siobhan sat up hurriedly. "What do you mean?"

Rumpelstiltskin put on a sad face. "I just heard the king give orders," he lied, "that if you fail to spin this straw into gold by morning, your head is to be chopped off."

"
What?
" Siobhan squeaked. "Is this part of the joke?"

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head solemnly. "Apparently," he said, "the king doesn't have as good a sense of humor as I thought."

"What am I going to do?" Siobhan asked.

"Start spinning straw into gold," Rumpelstiltskin recommended.

"But I don't know how."

"Well," Rumpelstiltskin said, "maybe you can find someone who does."

"Fat chance," Siobhan said. "Between now and dawn?"

"Well," Rumpelstiltskin said again, "actually, by chance, I know how to spin straw into gold."

"That would be very appropriate," Siobhan pointed out, "seeing as how you're the one who got me into this mess."

That was, in fact, a very good point, but Rumpelstiltskin ignored it. "What would you give me for doing this for you?"

Siobhan looked at him in disbelief. "What could I possibly give someone who can spin straw into gold? What could such a person—or troll—possibly want?"

Rumpelstiltskin decided to start off slowly and not show his true culinary intentions. "How about if you give me that gold buckle from your gown's belt?"

Siobhan looked from the belt to Rumpelstiltskin to the straw to Rumpelstiltskin. "Are you sure this isn't part of the joke still?" she asked suspiciously.

Rumpelstiltskin held his hand out and Siobhan gave him the buckle. He pulled a stool up to the spinning wheel and began to spin. All night long he spun, until by morning there was no straw left, only piles of gauzy gold.

"Well, thank you," Siobhan said. "I'm sure the king is likely to be pleased."

In fact, the king was ecstatic. Rumpelstiltskin, lurking about the corners of the palace later that morning, heard his cries of amazement and delight.

That night, Rumpelstiltskin once more went to Siobhan's room. Actually, it was a bigger, finer room, and she was wearing an even richer and more elegant gown than the one the king had given her the day before. "So, he liked the gold?" Rumpelstiltskin asked Siobhan, without even greeting her.

"Very much," Siobhan said. "He said he never suspected I could spin
so much
straw into gold. I think he's rather too trusting for a king, but he
is
cute. He gave me a great hug and called me a treasure."

"Well, no wonder," Rumpelstiltskin said. "He hopes you'll provide him with endless treasure."

"No, I don't think that's it," Siobhan started to say, but Rumpelstiltskin interrupted her, saying, "Because I heard him say: 'Let her spin this second roomful of straw into gold, or tomorrow she shall be stoned to death."'

"That doesn't sound like him at all," Siobhan said.

"But there
is
all this straw in here," Rumpelstiltskin pointed out.

Siobhan bit her lip anxiously.

"I'll tell you what," Rumpelstiltskin said. "Give me the clasp that holds the collar of your gown, and I will spin
this
straw into gold also."

"This gold clasp?" Siobhan asked doubtfully, fingering the exquisite but tiny object.

"That very one," Rumpelstiltskin said, for he had something much, much more valuable and tasty on his mind.

Siobhan unfastened the clasp and once more watched Rumpelstiltskin work to make straw into gold. "You're too kind," she murmured when he had finished.

"Not at all," Rumpelstiltskin answered.

And he meant it.

That night, he found her in a luxurious room, and she was wearing a gown that was made of gold cloth woven from the gold that he had spun from straw.

Hardly able to hide his glee, Rumpelstiltskin said, "I hear the king has said you must spin this new roomful of straw into gold or he will burn you at the stake."

"I think you must have heard wrong," Siobhan said. "If the king was
that
greedy, he would never have given me this dress. I'm sure he's pleased enough with the gold. In fact, he is a kind and gentle man, and we have spent the last days talking and getting to know each other, and he has asked me to marry him." She smiled in pleasure and shyly added, "And I have said yes."

"Well, congratulations," Rumpelstiltskin said. His plan was so close to completion that he could practically
taste
that baby. He said, "But why shouldn't the king give you a dress of gold, when he thinks you can spin him all the gold he could ever need? And as far as not burning you at the stake, look out the window."

Siobhan looked. Her eyes widened with horror when she saw that there was a stake in the ground right below her window, with bundles of sticks strewn about it, and she had no way of knowing that it was Rumpelstiltskin who had set that stake up to look as though the king was preparing for an execution.

"What will you give me," Rumpelstiltskin asked, "to spin this roomful of straw into gold for you?"

"I can give you this whole dress," Siobhan said, "if you give me a chance to change into one of the others the king has given me."

"Why would I want your dress?" Rumpelstiltskin sneered.

"It has much more gold to it than the belt buckle or the clasp I gave you before," Siobhan pointed out.

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged his rocky shoulders. "I have enough gold."

"I would have thought you had enough gold before," Siobhan said. "How about this ruby necklace the king gave me?"

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head.

"Or this diamond engagement ring?"

Again Rumpelstiltskin shook his head.

"Well, then, what?"

Rumpelstiltskin stroked his chin, which had warts like pebbles. Slowly, as though he couldn't make up his mind, he said, "I don't know..." while—all the while—all he wanted was to shout: YOUR BABY! I WANT TO EAT YOUR FIRSTBORN BABY! Instead, he said, "I'll spin the straw for you tonight, and let you know later what you must pay me."

Siobhan sighed and said, "All right," and sat down on the floor by the spinning wheel.

Foolish human!
Rumpelstiltskin thought. He smacked his lips and set to work spinning.

By dawn, Rumpelstiltskin had spun this third room full of straw into gold, but he did not tell Siobhan what its cost would be.

That day, the king announced his betrothal to Siobhan, and still Rumpelstiltskin did not step forward to declare what Siobhan owed him.

Apparently Siobhan was much cleverer than Rumpelstiltskin had first thought, and had been paying much better attention than he had ever suspected while he spun, for in the coming days she began to spin straw into gold on her own, and
still
Rumpelstiltskin waited.

The marriage took place, and time passed, and it was announced that the queen was with child, and
even then
Rumpelstiltskin did not reveal himself.

He waited until the child was born: a prince, an heir to the kingdom. And then—only then—did Rumpelstiltskin go to the queen.

"Remember that you have not paid me for that last roomful of gold?" he said to her as she rocked the tiny baby.
Scrumptious,
Rumpelstiltskin thought.
That baby smells scrumptious.

"Of course," Siobhan said with a generous smile. "Have you made up your mind, then?"

"I want the baby," Rumpelstiltskin announced.

Siobhan stopped rocking. She looked into his eyes and knew to not even ask if he was joking. "Take me instead," she offered.

"I don't want you," Rumpelstiltskin said. "I want baby rump roast."

Siobhan shuddered, but did not cry or beg. "You took all the hours of the night to spin the straw into gold," she said. "Therefore you owe me all the hours of this day before I give you the child."

One day wouldn't toughen the meat, Rumpelstiltskin decided, so—generously, he thought—he agreed.

He wasn't, however, generous enough to give a moment beyond sunset, and he was back at the palace the instant the sun dipped below the horizon. This time, the king was in the room with Siobhan and the baby. Rumpelstiltskin sniffed the air, to see if there might be soldiers hiding behind the tapestries that hung on the walls. There was a strong scent of troll, which told Rumpelstiltskin that it was time for his yearly bath, but he could smell no other humans in the room, just the scent of the king, Queen Siobhan, and the sweet, enticing, delicious aroma of baby.

Rumpelstiltskin finished tying his bib around his neck and said, "Hand it over."

"How about," the king suggested smoothly, "a deal?"

"Don't want you, don't want your missus," Rumpelstiltskin said, "just hand the baby chops over."

But the king said something intriguing. He said, "Double or nothing?"

"Beg pardon?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.

The king and his queen exchanged a nervous look, but the king said in a steady voice, "We propose a riddle. If we guess your name, you go away and leave us alone and promise never to bother another human family. If we don't guess your name, you get to have our second-born child as well as our firstborn."

Rumpelstiltskin was so excited, he was practically drooling. He couldn't lose. First of all, there was no way these two humans could ever know his name. Second of all, even if somehow they managed to
guess
correctly, all he had to do was claim they had gotten it wrong. So he said, "All right. Guess away."

Siobhan closed her eyes in what could have been relief or dismay, but when she opened them what she said, calmly and clearly, was, "Is your name Rumpelstiltskin?"

Now how in the world had they ever guessed that? Rumpelstiltskin wondered. But trolls' skin is rocky, so his expression never changed as he said, "Wrong. Too bad. Hand over the kiddie cutlets."

But even as he put his scaly arms out to take the baby, another scaly arm pulled back one of the tapestries, and out stepped—of all trolls—his own brother. "Your name is too Rumpelstiltskin," his brother said. "You've lost the riddle. No human baby for you now or ever."

Rumpelstiltskin felt as though he'd had dinner yanked from his very mouth. He could feel his taste buds quiver.
He stamped his foot and howled, "What are you doing? What's the matter with you? I want that baby!" He stamped his foot again, and a thin crack appeared on the tiles, for trolls, being creatures of the earth, are very powerful.

"Don't you be pulling any of your nonsense with me," his brother warned, shaking a boulder-like finger at him. "I went into your cave looking for you, and I found one of my Myrna's ears under your dining room table."

"Coincidence!" Rumpelstiltskin protested and stamped his foot again. The crack burst open, miles deep from the strength of a troll's rage, and Rumpelstiltskin tipped head over heels into the hole he himself had made.

His brother, perhaps feeling some last twinge of family loyalty despite the unfortunate incident with Myrna, grabbed for him. Rumpelstiltskin dangled for a long, long moment.

But then his leg broke off in his brother's stony grip and Rumpelstiltskin continued to fall down, down, down with a howl that took a long time to fade away.

"Oops!" his brother said. He turned and saw that the king was fanning his wife, who—though she kept a strong grip on the baby—looked close to fainting. Rumpelstiltskin's brother wondered if this had anything to do with the leg he was still holding.

So he ate it.

Once upon a time, in the days before Social Security or insurance companies, there lived a miller and his daughter, Della, who were fairly well-off and reasonably happy until the day their mill burned down.

Suddenly they had nothing except the clothes they were wearing: no money, nor any way to make money, nor any possibility of ever getting money again unless they came up with a plan.