| THE LORELEI SIGNAL |
.
| Written by Mari Mitchell / Artwork by Marge Simon |
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| Magic, Midnight and Mischief |
Once upon a time...
Locked in a tower, far away from the
entrance of her father's manor, Ashley stood
tippy-toed, allowing her to see from a narrow
window. The royal carriage could just be
made out as it pulled into the driveway of
her father's manor. Ashley refused to let a
single tear fall, but she was overflowing with
worry.
She closed her true blue eyes tight. "Please
hurry," she prayed to the still chamber.
A small pop drew her eyes to a tiny hole in
the corner, as a plump, little mouse burst like
a champaign cork. Wheezing from exertion
the mouse puffed, "Ash . . . Ash . . . Ashley."
He pulled at his shirt trying to cover his
exposed white belly. "They're . . . here!"
She turned toward the round rodent, his
crooked tail now in its mouth. "Where's Jack?"
The round mouse thought and thought, then
said, "Ummm, no." Dus twirled his tail
nervously in its paws. "I mean, I don't know.
Ummm no."
"Could you please tell Remmy and the others
to look for him?"
The mouse stared blankly at her with its black
eyes. "I think so." He turned overly quick, as
if time worked differently for him. Dus bumped
into the plaster wall, missing the hole by a
couple of inches. He looked back at Ashley
and gave a goofy bow. "Here I go," he said as he rubbed his pink sore nose.
Ashley flopped onto the bed of straw. Her mind filled with thoughts of "what might bes" and "if onlys." She
considered the spinning wheel that sat in the corner, unused. In a few moments, the prince would come into
her father's manor with all his charms, and ask to see the young women of the house to try and fit a lost ruby
slipper. The same slipper she had lost on the stairs on the third night of the ball, as she rushed to her waiting
carriage. All too soon, the carriage would revert back to being nothing more than a cart full of squash, as the
dress would be nothing more than an ill fitted hand-me-down.
Another small ball of mouse rolled across the floor as if it was shot out of a catapult, and smacked into a table
leg. A bubble of blue formed over the mouse just before he hit, saving him from broken bones.
Ashley sat up and watched as the rodent uncrumpled itself. The magic bubble popped and coated him with
light layer of blue wet residue. Dizzy, the tall, thin mouse staggered trying to find something to steady itself.
You could almost see the small stars circling his tiny, pointed head.
"There you are. I was getting so worried. Do you have it Jack?"
He shook his head. The green cap followed the action of his head a fraction of a moment later. If the cap did
not have holes for the mouse's ears it would have fallen off.
Her eyes narrowed as a stern look came over her face. "Now what am I going to do?" Ashley hands grabbed
her tattered skirt and clenched the patched cloth hard with worry.
Jack searched his oversized jacket and pulled out a lock of curly chestnut hair.
Her face widened and sparkled with hope. "I thought . . ." She leaned down and extended her hand.
The mouse shook the stars off its heads, helping to form the multiple of things he saw into smaller numbers.
"I am sorry Ashley, but it is hard to get use to the speed spell. It disorients me so. I hardly know where my
tail is sometimes." He picked one of the many Ashley's and handed her the lock of hair but it passed through
her hand. He tried again. Tentatively, he placed the lock of hair in her hand.
She took the small treasure from Jack's paws. "You wonderful thing. You may be the best thing I ever did.
Until now . . ."
Jack straightened out the oversized jacket and shirt he wore. By now, the wet residue had dried to a pink
powder that smelled of spring flowers, which he could dust off. Some of the other mice teased Jack and told
him his garb looked like a dress. Smelling like a girl was the last thing he needed. For the most part, Jack
ignored what they said, knowing the mice were jealous of his position in the house as head mouse. Jack
made a note to find something for a belt to help with the slack in the fabric. Perhaps that would keep it from
catching on nails, both those that stuck out of the walls and those of the cat.
Once more a pop came from the mouse hole. Dus returned. "As," cough, "ley," Dus wheezed. "Remmy said,
that Jack," he stammered. The round mouse clung to the entrance of the hole.
Jack gave Dus a look of bewilderment.
Dus spotted Jack standing between the table and Ashley. The cogs in Dus' mind turned, clink, clink, clank. "Oh
. . . Sorry . . ."
"It is all right," she said without thought.
Jack gave his companion a look of disbelief. It was hard to get help. Not all mice took well to a multitude of
spells being cast on them. They simply did not have the constitution for it; after the second or third
incantation, the mouse would implode.
From under the bed of hay, Ashley pulled a book. The two mice watched Ashley, one puzzled, the other
mouse fascinated. She opened the book and quickly read to herself from it. She put the book down gently on
the bed of hay..
Next, Ashley sat on the wooden stool beside the spinning wheel, her foot moving up and down on the treadle
bar as the wheel began to spin. A small hum arose, as she placed the hair and hay in her lap. Graceful fingers
grabbed a tiny amount of each.
The humming became a song:
"Falagadoola nechicka doola dibbidi-dobbidi-doo.
Put 'em together and what have you got?
A prince so charming,
it's alarming.
Falagadoola Nchicka doola dibbidi-dobbidi-doo.
A step-sister so foul,
I hope she fits the shoe now.
Dibbidi-dobbidi-doo.
Falagadoola means Nechicka Doolaroo
Loves forever.
I am so clever.
Dibbidi-Dobbidi-doo
Falagadoola Nenchicka Doola Dibbidi-Dobbidi-Doo Put 'em together and what have you got?
A wedding.
A bedding.
A baby for me to take.
Oh, how their hearts will ache.
Power for me to claim,
and nothing will be the same.
Dibbidi-dobbidi dibbidi-dobbidi dibbidi-dobbidi-doo.
The hair and hay flickered as they touched the spindle, silver sparks arose. Round and round the wheel went.
Round and round the bobbin filled with glistening thread. At the end of the song the bobbin shimmered with
golden thread.
"Perfect, I knew this thing would be useful one day."
Dus nodded his mouse head enthusiastically. If he nodded with any more gusto, it would have wiggled off. As
it was, Dus' brain bounced in his tiny head.
Ashley carefully retrieved the spun gold thread and took it over to the rustic table. Pots and jars lined the
back of the table. Each container filled with dried herbs and coarse strange powders. Candles stood on top of
small wax hills, fixing them firmly in their pedestals. A mortar and pestle rested on the right, to the left, a
perfect red rose and a bell; in the middle of the table was a goodly-sized pumpkin.
With little effort, Jack scurried up the table leg, anxious to be of aid. He ran over to the pumpkin and lifted its
cut lid.
Dus took a running leap and hit another of the table legs with a small but solid thud. One more thud followed,
as he hit the floor. What Dus lacked in brain or physical skill he made up for with enthusiasm. He got up and
pulled his fuzzy, butterball self up the leg, one paw at a time; the whole way saying intermittingly, "I think I
could... I think I could..."
Jack did not watch what Dus was doing, he heard enough. No matter how many times Jack read the story to
Dus, Dus could never get the words right. At least the meaning of the story stuck. That's all that really matter,
stories and their meaning.
Ashley stood in front of the table oblivious to what her servants were doing. Her whole focus was on the task
at hand. Concentration was important. Although magic came natural to her, it was still new. In time, she
hoped to have enough power that her will would be enough to cast spells, but for now she needed books,
bells and candlesticks. With a wave of her hand, the golden thread rose like a snake and slithered into the
hollow gourd, making its belly glow.
Dus finally made it to the tabletop. On the edge of the table, he sat like a mound of mashed mouse potatoes.
Beads of sweat dampened his fir, a halo of perspiration hung under his arms.
"Dus, the rose, please."
The mouse got up with as much speed as he could muster. Most of the speed spell had worn off; for that, Dus
was grateful. Mice, especially round mice were not meant to endure such speeds. He rushed to the rose,
stumbling before he reached the flower. Dus told himself the next time Ashley was not looking; he would try
again to remove the pointed shoes. Someday he hoped they would come off. Maybe then, he would not be
quite so clumsy?
Ashley shook her head at the Dus' capabilities; her flaxen hair cascaded across her back and chest. "What am
I going to do with you?" The tone of her voice was sweet as an apple. With each word she spoke Dus loved
her more. Each word she spoke to him made Dus want all the more to do her bidding.
One large black paw patted at her skirt. Ashley looked down; an enormous coal black cat with a petite white
bib of fur under its chin waited. Large green eyes looked wantonly at her.
"You are such a good cat. I knew I could count on you."
A shockingly pink ribbon hung from the cat's mouth.
She stroked the cat's ample coal black fur. "Thank you Satan. If I had known you would have been so
capable, I might have enchanted you first."
He purred loudly has she gave a quick scratch under his chin.
"Now... where was I?"
Dus opened his mouth, but before he could form a helpful word, the cat meowed.
"Oh yes... Thank you Satan."
Whatever the cat said, the mouse could not understand. He did not speak cat.. Or was it he could not read
the cat's mind? Dus could not remember which it was. But he knew Ashely always heard him. She may not
have always paid attention to what he thought or said, but she heard him. One thing Dus understood, it did
not go the other way. He only heard what she wanted him to, or what she spoke.
One finger beckoned to the pink ribbon. Zigzagging, the ribbon darted up to the table. She motioned to the
pumpkin. Jack was barely in time to lift the lid before the obedient ribbon slipped in. A blushing puff of smoke
burst from the great gourd as the pumpkin opened, then a purple smoke came forth as the ribbon was
swallowed.
On his feet again, Dus held the rose. "Ash," he said a little too loud. "ley," on the second syllable of her name
he said spoken quieter. The mouse held the rose tight in both paws. His tail tense with anticipation of the
wondrous things that were happening. Magic was full of surprises. He never knew what was going to happen
next. The pumpkin could sprout legs and begin to dance, or the table might speak or better yet, turn in to
cheese. Dus always hoped for things to turn into cheese.
Ashley's eyes turned to the round mouse. "Well, put the rose inside the pumpkin."
Dus heaved the rose up and in a vortex of color and magic, the rose lingered, its red petals falling like drops
of red blood into the awaiting pumpkin caldron. Flashes of sapphire, amethyst, and gold erupted. Crackles of
color snapped and spurt. Finally, the magic settled to a misty goo.
With joy, Ashley clapped her hands. "That went pleasingly well. One more spell so I might see."
She turned to the bare wall and with a raise of her hand, "Mirror," one large ornate mirror appeared happing
from the wall.
Ashley began to sing another song, "Mirror, mirror upon thy wall, show me what I want to know."
The glass turned to fog and then shifted its reflection, no longer displaying the view in front of it. The fog
cleared, showing another part of the manor.
In the main hall, her stepsister Olli sat on a chair, all eyes upon her as she stuck out one bare foot then the
other. Each toenail painted in a bright garish orange with a letter; together they read, "Pick me."
The prince's servant looked at her feet aghast and then at Olli's enthusiastic face. She gave him a none-too-
subtle wink, and a wide smile.
He did his best to not make a sour face. "One will do nicely, thank you my good lady."
"Yes of course." The left foot hit the stone floor.
The prince's servant bent on one knee, holding the ruby slipper in his hands. In vain, he tried to place the
shoe upon her foot. Olli grunted as she struggled as best she could to make the shoe conform to the ample
size of her foot.
When he failed, Olli got up and tried with all of her might to shift her foot from one place in the shoe to the
next, hoping her foot would find its way into the stubborn shoe, but the ruby slipper would not give. Olli's foot
would not fit.
In the locked room, Ashley strummed her fingers on the plastered wall. The mirror did not show a clear
enough angle. The spell only worked from mirror to mirror. If someone had not moved the chair, Ashley would
have been able to see all she wanted. The not-knowing nibbled at her. "I wonder?"
Once more she consulted the book. The morning after the ball, she had found a small book under a tree.
Books were uncommon. Girls being able to read even more so, but her father insisted. When Ashley would
neglect her school work, her father would tell her, "Two days before your mother died, she came to me and
said, ‘Give your word to me, swear you will teach our daughter to read and write. Knowledge will serve her,
there are secrets yet untold." What her mother had meant Ashley did not know until that fateful day..
On Wednesdays, Ashley tended to her mother's garden. Roses, herbs and fruit and nut trees and all manners
of useful flora grew at a substantial rate. She felt at peace in her mother's garden. From the great oak
something dropped. First striking her on back as if a small rock had been thrown. She looked for it, intending
to throw it back even harder at whom ever had hit her. Among the thick roots something unusual waited. A
book, no larger than a walnut lay on a large green leaf. Not even a mouse would be able to make out the
words on its page. As she held the odd little thing in her hands, a breeze whispered through the oak's leaves
telling her, "Keep the book. It is only for you. Ashley, you must keep it hidden and safe." She tucked the book
in a pocket of her apron.
When night fell, Ashley wept, knowing her wishes would never be granted, all she had left was a lovely
dream of what should have been. No one cared for her, her life would be nothing but and endless amount of
chores.
Something stirred in her shirt. At first she thought a mouse had gotten caught. As quick as she could, she
took the layers of skirt off and shook them hard. The small book fell to the stone floor and let out a soft
scream.
Her blue eyes widened as the book grew. Four nights ago she would have run screaming, but after she saw a
woman appear in a pink puff of smoke, then witnessing a cart full of squashes changing to a grand coach, and
more; a book becoming larger was not too intimidating.
The leather cover curved and contorted into a mouth and smiled at her. It spoke, "Pick me up."
Ashley stared at the book, unsure of what to do. Picking it up may not be the best thing to do. What if it ate
her or did something worse?
Again the book spoke, this time with more force, "Pick me up!"
This time, Ashley did as commanded. It seemed like not doing, as it commanded would be worse. The book
felt peculiar in her arms, almost as if it were vibrating. It flew open and flipped through its pages, finally
stopping at a blank page.
Puzzled, Ashley stared at it, not knowing what she should do. "I don't understand."
As if an invisible hand was writing a word appeared, "Ask."
Ashley considered the curious event; unsure of what her question should be, not knowing how many
questions she might have, she considered what she should ask.
"What do you want?"
"To serve," the book wrote.
Ashley pondered the meaning of those words. ‘That's an interesting answer.' She inquired once more, "To
serve who?"
The previous word disappeared and another appeared, "You."
"How?"
"To reveal."
"Reveal what?"
"Your stolen heritage."
Ashley's knees weakened and before she knew, she was sitting. "My heritage? How was it stolen?"
With that, the pages fluttered, as a gust of gentle smoke appeared before her. In another moment, Ashley
saw her mother with the same book in her hands. Her mother filled it with secret knowledge, and spells.
Some of which, she used to marry the man of her dreams.
As she thought of her mother, the book flipped again. The pages settled and a moving picture formed of her
mother's wedding day. Her mother wore a dress of periwinkle with hints of pink, setting off her eyes and skin
to perfection. Her father, so handsome and so nervous until his eyes fell upon Aurora. All his fear vanished
because his soon to be wife looked at him and smiled—warmer than a summer day. The image faded.
Another took its place. Now her mother appeared in the woods with a full belly. With little pain or effort, she
took the babe that only moments ago rested inside her, but now rested in her arms. It was Ashley. She
washed her babe from a spring and sang a song she had heard many times. This image faded replaced by
another.
Ashley witnessed her mother's death. A large woodsman stood towering above her mother, a knife held high
and with a prayer, the blade pierced her heart. Reddest blood surged from her breast, spilling to ground
seeping into the soil, feeding the tree, her tree, the tree that spoke to her and gave her the book.
Ashley knew who was responsible for mother's death—the royal family. Fearing the foretelling of her witch-
child marrying their only son, they had done away with her, hoping to remove an unthinkable future. They
could not have a heathen marry their son and corrupting their kingdom. That would not do..
Another shimmer and another shift, now Ashley saw how her mother had already placed her daughter's
future in motion, hiding the book inside the tree where her mother's life had been taken.
With each moment she felt what her mother had felt: all the warm joy and cold sadness. When Ashley looked
into her mother's true blue eyes, she knew the greatest love. Her mother did not regret her death, because
she knew it insured her daughter's future, only regretting she would not be able to be there in body.
Ashley clasped and wept for the loss of what should have been. She held the book close to her breast as if it
were her mother. With a broken heart, Ashley swore revenge on all those who had hurt her and her beloved
mother.
A hunger awoke in her. Ashley wanted so much and she knew how she could feed her desires. She posed a
thousand questions and read ravenously from her mother's book. She learned how truly awful her step-
monster, Mara, and her magpie twin stepsister Olli were. The only pleasure the trio took was in greed and
cruelty.
With each new revelation her resolution grew—revenge.
On the second day of working with the book, her grimoire, she charmed the mice, not transforming them from
mice to men as she had seen her godmother do, but they grew in intelligence, stood upright, did her bidding,
even spoke in a way that both understood each other. She indulged the happiness of her new pets, making
them tiny garments to wear; without the garb Ashley could hardly tell one from the other.
Three days after Ashley received the book, a mirror appeared in her room. She recognized it at once. It was
the glass her mother had gazed upon as she brushed her golden hair, singing. Then she understood, her
mother was not just singing, she was casting, scrying and seeing.
In less than a week, her power became substantial. Each new incantation became easier. What she could not
do yesterday she could do today and what she could not do an hour ago she could now do with ease.
Ashley sat in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. She sang, "Mirror, mirror upon thy wall, show me what I
need to know."
The looking glass misted as a voice spoke, "Yes, my future queen."
The obedient mirror began to gleam with silver starlight. She saw herself marrying the prince and what her
life would be: every moment scheduled, every moment watched, each day more controlled than the last.
What she drank, where she ate, what she wore—all dictated to her. Who she truly would be locked far away
in a dark place, sense of self and soul imprisoned.
And what about her prince? He soon lost his charm, as she saw him taking his pleasure with handmaids and
more. Kings could have their pleasure, but a queen must to be controlled. Ashley watched as he grew fat and
lost both his teeth and hair. No amount of charm now could counterbalance that future.
More horrifying, her royal children who would be sent far away, first to schools, then to distant lands. Their
love she would never have. Their futures too were at stake and all those who served them as well. She saw
burnings. At first it was books and schools, but then people too. All to hold on to the past and never allow
change.
Her mother's death would not be in vane. All her mother sacrificed, all of her dreams would come forth.
The mirror misted once more, as her mother's face appeared. "My darling daughter, your fate is in your own
hands. I have given you the means to cast your future. I hope it is a happy one."
Ashley eyes began to tear, she raised her hand to touch her mother's image, but the cold boundary of time
and glass did not allow them to touch.
The moon rose in full bloom, Ashley formed her future. One quite different than the one she had glazed upon
earlier.
Something different was in Ashley's reflection. Innocence lost, power gained. Looking inside herself, she saw
her heart changed, no longer that soft pink of childhood. She possessed a witch's heart, one that could only
be touched by the love of a child, even if that child was not born to her.
Satan meowed again as Ashley gazed into the looking glass. Her frustration boiled at the edge of her control.
The meow went unheard or ignored; Satan could not be sure which. This time with aid of his paw and a
louder, "Meow!" Ashley final broke her focus.
"Yes Satan? What is it?" she said with irritation.
The cat's green eyes meet with Ashley's true blue eyes. "You right. I should have thought of that myself. You
are such a clever cat. I wonder, if there is a spell to change a cat into a man? I think you would make a very
handsome man. If there were only a way to fix you, so you would not go roaming at night."
Ashley waved her hand. "Clear!" The sundries of witchcraft rumbled then tumbled and stacked themselves
neatly into an unused corner. Only a few cracks and chips appeared on the fragile pots and jars. Trace
amounts of precious herbs and powders spilled.
Pleased overall with quality of the impromptu spell Ashley knew the next time it would go even better.
"Thank you."
"Table!" her voice echoed with the strength of a great witch. The wood moaned and creaked as the four stiff
wooden legs bent and wobbled towards her.
"There!"
The dutiful table placed itself under her mother's mirror.
Ashley smiled. She waved both hands and directed one at the table and the other at the sundries. "Be still."
She made her way on top of the table. Satan was right; Ashley could make out the chair. The cat landed on
the table with the grace of a stone gargoyle. He rubbed across her ankles, black broom of tail up.
"You want to see too? I guess you should see."
"Meow," the cat strained.
"I am sorry. Quite right. What we have been working for." She reached down and picked up the large cat. The
cat purred a song of happiness as Ashley stroked his head.
She tapped on the glass showing the cat where to look.
***
Mandy, Olli's twin almost pushed Olli from where she sat. As quick as Mandy could, she kicked off her shoes
and greedily took her place on the chair. She gathered her skirts displaying more leg than necessary, and
gave the prince's servant a knowing look. She made little kissy faces at him and sat as she had practice for
the last week. The pose was meant to show off her best features.
The prince's servant tried hard once again to conceal his distaste and went on with the duty he was charged
with; finding the maiden who fit the ruby slipper. He looked at Mandy's foot and knew the shoe would never
fit. Mandy's feet were even larger than her sister's. Still he tried. He had to keep his word and try each
unmarried maiden in the county. The prince had to marry and would only marry the maiden who fit the ruby
slipper. No other would do.
Mandy shut her brown eyes tight, willing her foot in. She thought, ‘Please, oh please. I'll give anything, if the
shoe fits.'
Ashley gave a half smile, the edges of it tainted as she heard her stepsister's silent thoughts.
Ashley sang, "Dibbidi-dobbidi dibbidi-dobbidi dibbidi-dobbidi-doo."
All at once, the shoe shifted, and slipped onto Mandy's foot. All who were in the hall watched in utter
disbelief. Mandy's mouth gapped with shock as she saw the shoe on her foot. No one said anything out loud,
but the thought took form, ‘Magic.' The question was good magic or bad...
Quietly to herself Mandy said, 'Thank you, thank you!'
Ashley said from locked tower, "You're so welcome, sister dear." She nodded her head.
The ruby slipper brightened, becoming hot, red hot.
An expression of pain exploded upon Mandy's carefully painted face. Quickly she swallowed it, not allowing
the pain to take hold. Mandy would not let the shoe be removed and with it, her destiny.
The shoe shifted again, cooling.
Relief washed through Mandy. The pain lessoned. ‘Wishes have a price,' she told herself. Then a new
sensation took hold, tiny teeth nibbling at her foot. Mandy gripped the chair holding on with all her will.
"Are you all right?" the prince's servant asked.
She shook her head. "I'm fine. I am just so, so thrilled." Thrilled was spoken with emphasis. Weakly she said,
"May I have a glass of wine?"
"Certainly," her astonished, but pleased mother said, as she motioned to her other daughter Olli, who was
now green with envy.
The ruby slipper continued to feast. Tears ran down Mandy's pale face, but she did not cry out.
Olli hastily handed her twin a glass of red wine.
Mandy gulped it down. "More!" she demanded. Mandy caught her mother's displeasure. "Please," she said
more lady-like.
Olli fetched the wine and filled the goblet again and then again, until the bottle was quite empty and Mandy
was quite full of red wine.
With much help, the limping and tipsy Mandy made her way to the prince's awaiting carriage and to her
future. Her mind filled with images of expensive dresses of silk, fine jewelry, people to do her bidding and
balls. Mandy envisioned music, cake and more wine. A queen can do as she pleases.
Mandy, and her twin sister Olli, their mother and the prince's servant sat in a lovely carriage. The carriage
carried them to their new destinies, one that would be very different than any of them had imagined.
***
Ashley sat contently in front of her mother's mirror humming happily to herself and Satan. She looked into the
cat's green eyes.
"Oh all right," she said as she scratched his white chin. "How can I resist such a clever cat, such a helpful cat
anything?"
The round cat smiled. He leaped from her arms and landed much more softly than he did moments before, this
time onto the floor of the locked tower. Satan made his way to where Dus entertained himself with spinning a
lost button. The cat stood still and so quiet as he watched the fat, tasty mouse amuse its simple self.
The button lay still on the rough wooden floor. Satan sat pleased and full. No more Dus.
Jack made his way back into the hole, making good his escape while he could, away from mirrors and magic
while Ashley was enraptured with her newest accomplishment. He was sure if he got far enough away she
would not be able to hear him and would soon enough forget and move on. No more mischief for him. Surely
there was another place a mouse with his talents and abilities could feel safe and appreciated. He had heard
good things about Hamlet.
Ashley, content with the knowledge Mandy's limp would always be around—especially with one foot
considerably larger than the other. Mandy would not be waltzing at her wedding, but Ashley would. There
would of course be a ball, music and cake.
Ashley thought, as she brushed her golden hair, 'Who needs a happy ending made by marrying a prince,
when you can make your own magic.'
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