![]() This is What I Coveted?A Story by Katie B![]() I wrote this for a contest about a new spin on fairy tales. I used a Slovak fairy tale called "The Wood Maiden"![]()
There is a story that is told around my village. It is about a young girl who lives with her mother in a small cottage at the edge of the forest. Though they lived a life of poverty they were happy. Everyday her mother sent her out to monitor the goats while they grazed. She was also responsible for spinning a spindle full of flaxen so that her mother could turn it into yarn. One day the girl began to dance in the middle of a clearing. She was soon joined by a beautiful maiden. They danced until the day was through. The little girl cried realizing that she had not finished her spindle. The maiden handed the spindle back with a smile. The girl fretted all the way home and all evening. As she went to be she made the decision to spin two spindles of flaxen for her mother. The next day came and once again the girl could not resist the urge to dance and was once again joined by the beautiful maiden. As they did yesterday, they danced the day away. The girl began to cry as she had let her mother down once again. The maiden just handed her a basket and told her not to peak inside. Halfway home the girl could not resist and looked inside. She was disappointed to find that it was a basket full of leaves. She started to dump them but decided to keep them for the goats. When she got home her mother was in a state of excitement as she discovered she had a never ending spindle of flaxen and asked her daughter where she got it. The girl explained about the beautiful maiden. Her mother was extremely pleased and told her daughter that the Wood Maiden had blessed them. Remembering the basket, the girl looked inside and saw that the leaves had turned into gold. They no longer had to live a life of poverty. My name is Betushka and that story is about me. Well a highly fictionalized story about me. My mother was ashamed of what I had done. So she made up this story and used the social grapevine to spread it. I do not know if she was trying to protect me, her, or even both us. Either way, the story worked. People still go out into the forest hoping to come across a Wood Maiden who would bless them with good fortune. Just like the story says my mother and I lived in poverty when my father died. My father was the son of the baron who ran our village. My grandfather was very pretentious and was not particularly pleased when my father married a woman of such common stock. Still my father had access to his money and inheritance, appearances of course. So we lived a comfortable until it was taken away from us. I was eight years old and my father died after a lengthy illness. My grandfather felt that since my father was not alive we were no longer his problem. He kicked us out of home and gave my mother a small sum of money. My mother used it to rent a small cottage at the edge of the woods and a small herd of goats. It was rough at first to adjust to this sudden life of poverty but eventually we found our rhythm. We had very little contact with my father’s family which made my mother happy. Even though we sometimes had little food my mother refused to crawl back to my grandfather. That is until what I did. To her that was showing weakness. We were happy irregardless of our money situation. I was sixteen years old when my yearning for my old regal life came back. Noble girls my age were given their balls and were starting to receive calls from suitors. To earn extra money I would occasionally work these balls, serving food. I saw all the beautiful dresses, jewelry, and hairstyles. I grew jealous and envious of all the things they had. I knew in my heart that if my father was still alive I would be one of these girls. I would be dancing, laughing, and accepting silver. My dark feelings blinded my sense of reason. There is no excuse in the world that would justify what I did next. I started taking the flaxen I had spun for mother to the market place where I sold it. I would go home and make up lies and excuses. After which I’d make empty promises of how I would make double a said amount. I would make that amount but it never made it back to my mother. It just helped fill my greedy pockets. Next I went after the goats. What ones I couldn’t sell I lost because I left them unattended. They were lost because I was too busy at the market place. All the jewelry and dress I bought with my stolen money I placed them in a satchel and hid them in a nook in a tree. I would spend all day trying them on. I would twirl and dance, imagining that I was at the ball. I even made conversations with my imaginary suitors. Meanwhile my mother was trying her best to keep our household together. She was doing my chores and hers, sometimes staying up all night to complete them. Also she was desperately trying to find money to pay our rent and our taxes. She was becoming more and more confused and angry at my behavior. Especially when I’d come back with more excuses. Finally my mother could not handle the load I had given her. Our landlord had told her she better have the money in five days or he was going to evict us. My mother, still unable to figure out what I was doing, followed me to my little nook. I don’t know how long she stood there watching me, lost in my vanity. I was in the middle of a conversation with my “suitor” when she stormed into the clearing. I stopped in mid sentence because the expression on her face and the tears that streamed down her checks stopped me stone cold. “Betushka, how could you,” my mother cried,” You have ruined us.” “You are no daughter of mine. I can not stand the sight of you,” her mother sobbed. I watched as she gathered everything I bought and without a glance at me she left the clearing. I followed her home but it was like I was not even there. My mother continued on her daily routine, not even talking or looking at me. At night I could hear my mother’s tears. They were full of pain and sorrow. The next day my mother took all the dresses and jewelry to the market place to see. She was gone until sun down. During her absence I tried to begin to redeem myself by spinning flaxen and completing her normal chores. My mother came back no long after I had put dinner on the table. As she strolled in carrying a basket part way full of coin, I could hear her mumbling how it was not enough. Then she strolled passed the kitchen table and out the back door. I ate my dinner, working up the nerve to walk and out and talk to her. Finally I pushed away from the table and walked out. “Mother--,” I began. “Just go to bed Betushka,” she responded with a note of finality in her voice. I fled to my bedroom where I tossed and turned through the night. As I returned to the kitchen in the morning I saw that my mother had left sometime during the night. Last night’s fire was still glowing from the hearth as well as last night’s meal was still on the table. Unable to sit there I started cleaning. Around mid day I heard horses outside. Confused because our road was not well traveled, I stepped outside. Much to my surprise there was a gorgeous mahogany carriage pulled by four black horses. To my bigger surprise was my grandfather, followed by my mother, strolling up the path to our front door. “Ah Betushka, you have so much of your father in your face,” he kindly said. He cupped my face in his large by surprisingly soft hands. Then he looked me up and down. “What is going on,” I asked. “You are right. She has grown quite beautiful. She will definitely do. Deal accepted,” he said ignoring my question. With a snap of his fingers one of his servants that I had not seen come in, set a sack down on the table. With a flourish he walked out the door. I turned to my mother with questions in my eyes. “Betushka it was the best I could do,” my mother started,” I had no choice but to go to him. We would have lost everything. I am sorry I had to make this deal.” “Mother what is going on,” I asked, choking the words out. “Your grandfather has required in exchange for money that you step up to take your place in your noble heritage. He is coming tomorrow to collect you. You are to be trained as a lady and married off to the first noble who will have you,” she responded. Now she was the one who could not look me in the eye. “Do you really hate me that much that you would sell me,” I roared. I knew I had no reason to be angry at her. I forced her into this corner. I was angry at myself but irrationally I directed it at her. “I love you very much. I am ashamed of what you have done but I can never hate you. This was the best possible deal I could get him to agree to. You do not know what he wanted initially. He wanted to make you a w***e, a plaything all the nobles could pass around. He said that was all your peasant blood was worthy for. I had to forcefully remind him that you were the last of his blood. Once he was dead the village would fall into someone else’s rule. I do not know whose but judging by the look on his face he was not pleased with the idea. Your grandfather would only agree to the deal once he saw if you possessed any beauty. I insisted that you were but as you saw he had to come here himself. Just look on the bright side, you’ll get the life you have been coveting,” she finished. I had no response. I knew in my heart I had to stand for my irresponsible actions. I got lost in my fantasies and forgot about the one person who cared for me. I had let her down. I had no right to have a response. I simply walked to my room and packed my few treasured belongings. Then I spent another restless night, my final, in my bed. Next morning breakfast was a somber affair. Neither of us quite knew what to say to each other. All the apologies I had refused to escape my mouth. There was so much I wanted to say but could not quite say it. Before I knew it the sound of horses interrupted our silence. Panic bubbled in my stomach and up my throat. I could feel the first taste of stomach acid. I swallowed hard to keep the vomit from coming out. We both stood up and looked at each other, I mean really looked at each other. My mother’s face was filled with sorry and fear. Without any words spoken we met each other halfway and embraced. I took a step back and opened my mouth to speak by my mother just placed her hand against my cheek and smiled. “I know my angel, I know,” she said gently. Then she laid a gentle kiss upon my forehead. Next thing we knew two of my grandfather’s servants stepped into our home along with a well dressed woman. “I am your grandfather’s wife. Your grandfather has demanded that you should be properly attired,” she said without bothering to introduce herself to me. I knew she was not my grandmother as my grandmother died before I was born. Then she spent the better part of an hour making sure I looked the part of a noble. All the while the servants had taken my belongings to the carriage. I was a bit shy as I stepped out of my room. It was one thing to wear this stuff in the clearing and another in front of people. Before I could even say good bye to my mother, I was lead to the waiting carriage where I found it completely empty. My grandfather had not bothered to come. I heard the crack of the reins and the carriage started moving. I learned out the window to look back at my mother. She was looking forlornly at us. I waved at her and she waved back. Tears flowed down my cheeks but I continued to wave. My mother became smaller and smaller until she was just a speck. That was the last time I’d ever see her again. I was not even given permission to go to her funeral. “Betushka quit crying. Tears are below your station, “my grandfather’s wife said simply. I thought she said it in jest but one look on her face told me otherwise. As soon as I got to my grandfather’s home I saw there was no welcome, not even by my grandfather. I was immediately whisked away to my first lesson. I spent the next year learning manners, how to speak properly, how to dress, and anything else that would make me into a perfect noblewoman. I received my ball with my gaggle of suitors. I chose one, rather my grandfather chose one, and we were married. We had children and my husband rules our village. My mother was right. I did get the life I wanted. Except my life is no bed of roses or the fairy tale I had imagined it would be. My husband has no love for me nor do I for him. We have only bedded each other for our children. Otherwise that we turn to our lovers. The friends I do have are false as they only come around when they need something. I do not see my children as they are off doing what is expected of them. I live constantly in the public eyes, I am unhappy. I though the noble life would bring me happiness so I figured it was what I wanted. Turns out I already had that life of happiness. It was with my mother. I was just too driven by jealousy and envy to really see that. Now I’ll never have it. My mother was right to be ashamed. Too bad the Wood Maiden is not real. I could really use her right now.
© 2008 Katie BAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on April 15, 2008 Author![]() Katie BCuyahoga Falls, Ohio, OHAboutI"m back after a long hiatus, hopefully for a long time. I still wish to fulfill my dream and write a book. I am still with significant other of now 7 years and we have a 1 1/2 year old son named, .. more..Writing
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