Sinful Cinderella

I pace a little longer, trying to think of something else. Oh Papa, please, anything but her! But I know it’s no use. She’s better than nothing – sort of – and I’m desperate. So here goes.

“Fairy Godmother, come to my aid, help me to fix this mess that I’ve made.” Yes, that’s really what she told me to say.

I stare at the starry sky and wait.

“Hello, brat.”

I nearly jump out of my shoes. I whirl around with my hand on my chest. “Crackers, Godnutter, can’t you make a little noise? Stir the wind before you come?”

She’s right behind me, large and solid. Looking, as usual, like she just rolled out of bed. Her gray hair is piled in a lopsided bun with sprays that stick out like weeds. She wears a green dress, slightly crumpled, and her transparent wings point out behind her. And, like always, she’s smoking.

Godnutter laughs, shooting smoke from her mouth. “Good gravy, look at you! What have you done to yourself?”

“What?”

“You look like a freaky doll! We should set you up in a shop window where you can bat those false eyelashes.” She pokes the clay pipe back in her mouth and turns her eyes to the enormous carriage. “Ooh, look at that!”

“They’re not false, it’s white magic! The white magic you gave me to better myself!”

Godnutter rolls her eyes and sucks the long, curling tip of her pipe. “It was supposed to make you a better person. You’ve abused it, muffin.”

“How? You said I couldn’t hurt anyone with it and I haven’t.”

“Not directly, no. But you’ve made yourself so freakishly beautiful that most women feel depressed when they look at you.”

I smile. “That’s good.”

“You’re too obsessed with your appearance.”

“What are you, my mother?”

“No, but unlike you, I knew her. And she would not be proud of you.”

I scowl and fold my arms. “Would she be proud of you?” That gets her. She turns away from me and puffs a cloud of wounded pride.

Godnutter is my mother’s sister. I never knew she existed until my father died when I was twelve. After the burial service, I stood weeping over my father’s grave. Stepmother had not shed a tear, had rebuked me for being ‘emotional’ in public. But when they all left, I found a minute to mourn my father in solitude. Suddenly Godnutter was beside me, pipe and all, and I freaked out.

She explained who she was and told me a sad story. She had once been a human lady, married to a nice man. But they had a terrible quarrel and Godnutter swung a pewter candlestick at his head. He died. And Godnutter, overcome with guilt, had thrown herself off the roof of her house. But it wasn’t high enough. She lay on the pavement, broken and bleeding, waiting to die, when the fairies came.

I have never seen fairies. I’m told they keep to themselves and help us humans in quiet, invisible ways. But the fairies took pity on Godnutter. They said they could not save her human life, but if she became one of them, a fairy, she could help other unfortunate people and make amends for her terrible deed. Godnutter agreed. But, as she liked to tell me, she didn’t know then they would assign her to me.

I remember her offering the crystal decanter. “What is it?” I asked. “Magic,” she whispered. “The fairies tell me you have darkness inside you. Just a kernel, a seedling. But we think that woman, your stepmother, is going to make it grow. You will be tempted to return cruelty for cruelty. And I don’t want you turning out bad, as I did.”

“What do I do with this?” I took the decanter, pleased with its glittering beauty.

“Every time you choose to be good, you’ll receive a little white magic in the bottle. The magic can make your life better in small ways. It can turn a crust of bread into cake. It can heal your body of aches and ills. It can make your heart happy when it should be sad. It can do almost anything you want it to, so long as you do not harm another person.”

“Sure,” I said at the time, because why would I ever want to hurt anyone? “Thank you.” I hoped she would leave me then. I liked the gift but Godnutter was scary.

“Be good, Cinderella, and all will end happily.” Then she freaked me out again by fading into air.

And thus the white magic took over my life.