rayaso

Brushback Pitch

MISSING FRIENDS

It had come to this – sitting in a cheap bar, drinking weak beer, and waiting for a client. Jackson Beans, P.I., normally met new clients in his office, but this was what she wanted, so OK. Snow White was late, which was definitely not OK; but at least there was a ball game on TV.

Al Klar was sprawled on his back at home plate after nearly being hit by a pitch. He deserved it, thought Jack, he’s been crowding the plate again. “Home run,” some drunk announced. On the next pitch, Klar homered to deep right. Lucky guess.

Two innings later, Snow White entered the bar, head high, shoulders back. Not bad for 300 years, thought Jack.

Snow White sat on the bar stool next to Jack.

“Jack.”

“Snow.”

Jack broke the awkward silence by buying Snow White a drink. She drank it a little too fast, so he bought her another.

They looked at the ball game for a few pitches before Jack spoke.

“What’ve you been up to since you got out?” Jack regretted asking when he saw Snow White blush. She didn’t answer, but Jack wondered -- a character’s got to eat somehow.

Jack knew all about that. Times had been tough when he finally climbed down from the beanstalk. Customers had stopped paying for tours, and when the Giant had finally quit, Jack had known it was over. Jack had been smart; he hadn’t tried to hang on, like too many others. He had shortened his name, traded a few magic beans, and got himself a job with the local police for a couple of years until he went out on his own as a P.I.

He'd had a few fairy tale clients before, but they never paid well. Mostly, Jack just listened to them. He did what he could, but they all had the same problem -- failure to adjust, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t a shrink, just a private eye.

I’ll buy Snow a few drinks, let her talk, then slip her a little money for old times’ sake.

But Snow White didn’t want another drink.

“Jack, the dwarfs are missing,” said Snow White, her eyes getting moist. “The police won’t help -- they just told me the Big Bad Wolf probably ate them, and laughed. But they’re dwarfs, Jack, not pigs, and the Wolf’s been a friend for years. He’s worried, too.”

“What about the Prince, or maybe the Huntsman?” said Jack. “Wouldn’t they be better at this? I don’t really know the dwarfs – I wasn’t in your story.”

“The Prince is useless, and I haven’t seen the Huntsman for awhile.”

Jack thought Snow White was blushing again.

A damsel in distress hooks me every time.

Jack spent the next hour getting the details – when and where she last saw them [a week ago, the apartment], what they were wearing [colorful caps, carrying picks and shovels], any enemies [“the evil Queen”], arguments [“no more than usual for seven dwarfs”], any visits to libraries [“absolutely not!”] – the usual stuff. By the time they were done, Jack had some ideas and got to work.

Jack started at a nearby mine, but no one had seen seven small miners who whistled while they worked. “I think we would have noticed that,” said the foreman. The Haunted Forest was another disappointment. When Jack interrogated the forest creatures, they all denied seeing the dwarfs and their old cottage had collapsed long ago. The evil Queen was a natural suspect, but she had disappeared too. I’ll save her for last, just in case.

Snow White put Jack in touch with some of the dwarfs’ friends. Pinocchio in particular had some disturbing information. Work had been scarce, mostly day labor. No one wanted to hire seven fairy tale characters, especially Sleepy and Dopey. Even Happy was miserable. “I last saw them about two weeks ago,” Pinocchio said, “and Doc was telling me how much they hated real life. I don’t blame them.” That’s sad, Jack thought. Pinocchio always wanted to be a real boy. I thought he liked it.

Pinocchio had no idea where the dwarfs were going when they left, so Jack was still nowhere.

It’s time for the libraries and bookstores. Snow said they wouldn’t do it, but she doesn’t want to think about it. The idea turned Jack’s stomach. Still, I’ve got to rule it out. No matter how awful, Snow deserves the truth.

First he had to find the book. No one carried Grimms’ Fairy Tales anymore, but Jack wasn’t surprised. The stories had been ruined after the Great Liberation, when all the characters had left the pages of fairy tale books for real life. Who could read “Little Snow White” without Snow White, not to mention the Queen, the dwarfs, or the Prince?

Rare book collectors were weird enough to keep a book without characters. What if one of them had an original of the Grimms’ Kinder und Hausmärchen?

Many phone calls later, Jack discovered that Antiquarian Booksellers had sold a first edition to a group of buyers only a week ago. “They were an odd bunch,” said Clive Oldham, the owner. “They were short, and they kept whistling.” Jack became very worried. Fortunately, Mr. Oldham had another copy. “There really isn’t much demand for it anymore. For $20, it’s yours.”

Jack rushed to the store, bought the book, and took it back to his office. He opened it to “Little Snow White” and there the dwarfs were -- back in the pages! Jack felt heartsick when he discovered that they had decided to de-animate themselves. Short of another Great Liberation miracle, it was a one way trip. They wouldn't get another chance to become real again if they changed their minds.

Jack was surprised to find the dwarfs were not the only ones to give up -- the Huntsman and the evil Queen had returned too. They had all come back to the story, forsaking real life. Many other characters were also in their own stories again, including the Frog King, Rapunzel, Hansel (but not Gretel), and Rumpelstiltskin. The world’s safer without Rumpelstiltskin, but I’ll miss the others.

Jack would have to break the sad news to Snow White, so he set up another meeting at the bar. This will kill Snow – those dwarfs have been like family ever since they took her in.

Snow White was late again, but luckily there was another ball game on TV. Klar’s still crowding the plate. Doesn’t he ever learn?

When Snow White finally showed up, Jack just showed her the book – she understood.

“I was afraid they might do it,” said Snow White at last. “Life was harder for them than most of us. All they wanted to do was whistle while they worked. I loved them! I would’ve been just a minor character without them.”

“Ever think about de-animating yourself?” asked Jack.

“When times get really tough,” admitted Snow White, staring at the book. “But then I remember what it was like, imprisoned in those pages, not being able to talk or think on my own, or even move, all the things that led to the Great Liberation.”

“But some of us have returned to the stories,” Jack said. “Maybe getting out wasn’t such a great idea. The Giant and I had it pretty good up in that beanstalk, and you were happily-ever-after with the Prince.”

Snow White was quiet, lost in thought. She never talks about the Prince. Maybe it wasn’t so happy after all; I can see why she wouldn’t want to go back to that.

Jack bought her a couple of drinks while they watched the game in silence, until it became too awkward.

Finally, it was time. Jack tucked a few bills in the book when Snow White wasn’t looking, then handed it to her. “Here,” he said, “you better keep this. You can at least see the dwarfs in the pages. Maybe it’ll help.”

“Thanks, Jack,” she said, tucking the book under her arm and walking out the door, head high. She’s still got it. She’s still a Princess.

Jack didn’t hear from Snow White until a few years later when he got a package in the mail. It was the book. Jack leafed through the pages and found Snow White, back in her story and happily living with the dwarfs in their cottage.

Jack would take out the book now and then to see who had returned and wonder if his time would come. Another drink always took care of that, at least for the moment.

Maybe someday . . . .

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