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The Princess

Michal Reiben

    “Anna, there’s a woman who has invited you to visit her.”
    “Who is she? Why does she want me to visit?”
    “It’s a woman who’s little girl died, and she would like to once again feel the presence of a little girl in her life,” my mum explains.
    “I don’t know, it sounds really weird to me.”
    “Why don’t you try it; you’ve nothing to lose?”
    I consider for a few moments; and finally say, “Well, alright then.”
    The day of my visit soon arrives. I shove some pajamas and a toothbrush into a carrier bag, and my mum writes down the directions on a piece of paper. Thus equipped I set off by foot into the direction of the woman’s house. Soon I find myself slushing along a muddy path; the length of which to my left side grow silver birch trees which cast shadows over the path; to my right side lay open fields in which horses are grazing.
    After about half an hour’s trudge, I immerged out of the shade of the trees and come upon a bright sunny clearing in which there is a row of newly-built modern villas. I check my written directions as to which villa belongs to the ‘mystery woman’, approach its front door and knock hesitantly. It is opened by a slim, elegant woman, with prematurely greying hair which is scooped up into a bun.
    “You must be Anna? I’m Edith, and I’m very pleased you decided to come, please come in.”
    I feel greatly relieved that she seems to be a pleasant lady; I step over the threshold and follow her through the sparkling, luxury villa to her sitting room.
    “Would you like something to drink?”
    “No, thank you.”
    “Well, then I’ll show to where you’ll be sleeping.”
    Edith ushers me up some winding stairs and we arrive at an extremely white, immaculately clean small room.
    “Do I have to remain in this bedroom all the time?” I ask.
    “No, you can go wherever you like,” she answers, and then adds, “My husband has gone to fetch a princess for you to play with.”
    I’m baffled at this revelation, and tangled thoughts twirl around in my head, ‘A princess! What sort of a princess?’ The picture which conjures itself up in my mind is of a beautiful woman, clothed in exotic flowing garments and wearing a crown.
    Out loud I ask, “What sort of a princess?”
    “She’s a wonderful person, you’ll see.”
    She withdraws from the room and leaves me to my own devices. I place my pajamas under the pillow on the bed and put my toothbrush in the adjoining little bathroom. The villa looks so shiningly clean, I’m frightened less I might break or dirty something; so I decided to remain sitting on the bed with my legs dangling over its side. I turn on the radio which stands on the bedside table and twist the knob around until I find some pop-music. As I sit listening to music, my heart flutters at the prospect of meeting a princess!
    Presently, Edith appears at the door, “Anna, please come with me; our wonderful princess has arrived.”
    I jump off the bed and accompany her down the stairs and out of the house in curious anticipation. We arrive at the end of the garden where a van is parked.
    ‘What sort of princess hides in a dark van?’ I wonder to myself.
    I tag after Edith around the van to where there is an open sliding door which is hidden out of sight of nosy neighbors by some bushes. I peep into the door in happy expectation, however, what I managed to see from out of the darkness is an obese, hairy girl sitting in a wheelchair, with saliva drawling from her mouth and blank eyes staring back at me. She reminds me of an orangutan.
    “This is our beautiful princess, her name is Anna just like yours; I would like you to be friends, and for you to play with her.”
    I stand in complete shock; I am unable to move or to speak. I am after all merely eleven years old and I’d never seen anyone like her in my life before. I desperately try to work out in my mind, “How do I play with her? What shall I do?”
    After a short while, Edith becomes exasperated and flies into a rage.
    “Don’t just stand there gaping; talk to her, play with her, after all, this is her beautiful house, not yours, for God’s sake!”
    Now I am also in a panic because of her hollering. I bolt back into the direction of my own house. I completely forget about my pajamas; I run like the wind as fast as my legs will carry me. As I splash back down the muddy path, thoughts thrash around inside my head like a storm. I feel guilty for running away and for hurting ‘the princess’s’ feelings. I’m also angry at Edith for shouting at me, and for lying to me about her daughter being a princess. On top of all that she’d made me feel like poor trash!
    As I continued to flee I start to gasp for breath. After a while I begin to feel sorry for Edith; for she is a mother who is ashamed of her daughter, lies by telling people that her daughter is dead, and hides her out of sight from her neighbors.
    “Maybe for a while, she’d wanted to replace her daughter with me; but then she’d had a bad conscience, and sent her husband to fetch her daughter from the institution where she is looked after. Why hadn’t she explained ‘the princess’s’ true condition to me before I met her, prepared me?”
    Finally, I become fed up with so many thoughts messing up my mind. I decide that grown-ups and the whole incident with the ‘princess’ are issues far too weird to bother my head about. Having come to this conclusion I stop running and walk the rest of the way home at a leisurely pace. Upon arriving back at our cottage I let myself in quietly by the back door but my mother hears me.
    “Back so soon, did you enjoy yourself?” she calls out.
    “Yes,” I lie as I hurry up the creaky stairs to my untidy bedroom.

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