Ella Enchanted

chapter 10

A MAID showed me to a corridor lined with doors. Each one was painted a different pastel color and had a card affixed to it announcing the name of the room. We passed the Lime Room, the Daisy Room, and the Opal Room and stopped before the Lavender Room. The maid opened the door.

For a moment I forgot my hunger. I was in a cloud of light purple. Some of the purples blushed faintly pink, others were tinted pale blue, but there was no other color.

The curtains were streamers, undulating from the breeze made by the door closing behind me. Beneath my feet was a hooked rug in the design of a huge violet. In a corner stood a clay chamber pot, disguised as a decorative cabbage.

The five beds were swathed in a gauzy fabric. The five bureaus were painted with wavy stripes of pale and paler lavender.

I wanted to throw myself on a bed and cry about being so hungry and about everything else, but these were not beds onto which one could throw oneself.

A purple chair was placed next to one of the two windows. I sank into it.

If I didn't succumb to starvation, I would be here for a long time, with hateful mistresses and with Hattie ordering me about. I stared out the window at Madame Edith's garden until exhaustion and hunger produced a kind of stupor in me. In a while, I slept

"HERE, ELLA. You can eat this."

An urgent whisper pushed its way into my dream about roasted pheasant stuffed with chestnuts.

Someone shook my shoulder. "Wake up. Ella, wake up."

An order. I was awake.

Areida thrust a roll into my hands. "It's all I could get. Eat it before the others come in."

In two swallows I ate the soft white roll, more air than sustenance. But more sustenance than I'd had in days.

"Thank you. Do you sleep in here too?"

She nodded.

"Where?"

The door opened and three maidens entered.

"Look! Queer ducks flock together." The speaker was the tallest pupil in the school. She pronounced her l's as y's, mocking Areida's accent.

"Ecete iffibensi asura edanse evtame oyjento?" I asked Areida. ("Is this how they behave at finishing school?")

"Otemso iffibensi asura ippiri." ("Sometimes they are much worse.")

"Are you from Ayortha too?" the tall maiden asked me.

"No, but Areida is teaching me the beautiful Ayorthaian language. In Ayorthaian, you are an ìbwi unju.'" It only meant "tall girl." I didn't know any insults in Ayorthaian. However, Areida was laughing, which made it seem the worst of epithets.

I laughed too. Areida collapsed on top of me, and together we shook the purple chair.

Madame Edith, the headmistress, bustled in. "Young ladies! What do I see?"

Areida leaped up, but I remained seated. I couldn't stop laughing.

"My chairs are not made to take such abuse. And young ladies do not sit two to a seat. Do you hear me? Ella! Stop your unseemly laughter."

I stopped mid giggle.

"That's better. Since it's your first day here, I shall excuse your behavior and trust that it will have improved tomorrow." Madame Edith turned to the others.

"Into your nightdresses, young ladies. The Shores of Sleep are approaching."

Areida and I exchanged glances. It was very cheering to have a friend.

Everyone else reached the Shores of Sleep, but I remained oceans away. I had been given a nightdress so covered with bows and frills that I couldn't lie flat comfortably.

I slipped out of bed and opened my carpetbag. If I couldn't sleep, I could read.

Madame Edith thought fear of the dark was to be expected in young ladies, so a lamp was left burning.

My book opened to a letter from Mandy.

Dear Ella,

This morning I baked scones. Bertha and Nathan and I will eat them for a snack before we go to bed. But I baked two extra. We'll have to divide yours and eat them too.

I promised myself I wouldn't trouble you by saying how much I miss you, and see how I start.

That parrot man, name of Simon, came here today with one of has birds to give you. It speaks Gnomic and Elfian. He said it wasn't fine enough for the menagerie, but you might like it. He told me what to feed it. I never thought I'd be cook to a parrot.

I wish it would stop talking once in a while. I wonder if I have a recipe for parrot stew. Don't worry, sweet, I would never cook your present.

Yesterday, you had a grander visitor, and received a bigger gift than a bird.

The prince himself came to see you, leading a centaur colt. When I told him you were away from home, he wanted to know where you'd gone and when you'd be back. And when he heard you were at finishing school, he was indignant. He demanded to know why you needed to be finished since there was nothing wrong with you to start with. I couldn't answer him because I'd like to ask that father of yours the same question.

I did tell him we had nowhere to keep a growing centaur. He's a little beauty, but what can I do with him? Your prince said he'd raise him for you. He asked me to tell you the colt's name, Apple. That made me remember my manners, and I gave him his name to eat before he left with the prince.

Speaking of leaving, your father departed the same day you did. Said he was off to the greenies, which I gathered was has disrespectful name for the elves.

Said not to expect him back, anytime soon.

I wish you were coming home soon. Bertha and Nathan send their love, and I send mine, by the bushel, by the barrel, by the tun.

From

your

old

cook,

Mandy

P.S. Drink your Tonic.

I closed the book, and whispered to its spine, "Don't erase the letter, please."

Then I drank my Tonic.

A centaur colt! A little beauty. If only I could see him, and pet him, and let him know me.

The tears that hadn't come in the afternoon came now. Mandy would be desperate if she knew I hadn't eaten in three days and if she knew I was under the thumb of a monster like Hattie.

THE NEXT morning, Music Mistress led us in song, and singled out my off-key voice.

"Ella does not notice that there is more than one note," she told everyone.

"Come here, child. Sing this." She played a note on the harpsichord.

I wouldn't be able to. I could never carry a tune. What would happen when I couldn't obey?

I sang the wrong note. Music Mistress frowned.

"Higher, or we shall send you to a different school to sing with the young gentlemen." She depressed the key again.

My next attempt was much too high. One lass covered her ears. I wished her an earache.

Music Mistress played again.

My temples throbbed. I sang.

"A little lower."

I hit the note. She played another. I sang it. She played a scale. I sang every note. I beamed. I'd always wished I could sing. I sang the scale again, louder.

Perfect!

"That's enough, young lady. You must sing when I tell you to, and not otherwise."

An hour later Dancing Mistress told me to step lightly.

My partner was Julia, the tall maiden who had teased Areida the night before. I pressed on her arms, using her to support my weight so I could step lightly.

"Stop that." She pulled away.

I fell. I heard giggles.

Dancing Mistress took Julia's place. I couldn't lean on her. I pretended my feet were balloons. I pretended the floor would crack if I didn't move lightly. We stepped. We glided. We sprang forward, jumped back. I wasn't graceful, but I didn't shake the ground. My gown was soaked with perspiration.

"That's better."

At lunch Manners Mistress said, "Don't rap your knuckles on the table, Ella. The king would be ashamed of you." She frequently invoked King Jerrold.

Tables were forever safe from me.

"Take small stitches, Eleanor, and don't yank the thread. It's not a rein, and you're not a coachman," Sewing Mistress said later in the afternoon.

I stabbed myself with the needle, but my stitches shrank.

It was the same every day. I dreaded new orders. The curse didn't make me change easily. I had to concentrate every second. In my mind, I repeated my commands in an endless refrain. When I awoke, I instructed myself not to bounce out of bed. Leave the nightdress for the servants to put away. At breakfast don't blow on my porridge, and don't spit out the lumps. On our afternoon walk, don't skip, don't leap about.

Once I actually spoke aloud. It was at dinner. "Don't slurp," I instructed myself.

I said it softly, but a pupil seated near me heard, and she told the others.

The only subjects that came easily were those taught by Writing Mistress: composition and ciphering. She also taught penmanship, which was the one subject in which I did not attain excellence, because Writing Mistress issued no orders.

She taught Ayorthaian but no other languages. When I told her I knew a little of the exotic tongues and wished to learn more, she gave me a dictionary of exotic speech. It became my second-favorite book, after Mandy's present.

Whenever I had time, I practiced the languages, especially Ogrese. The meanings were dreadful, but there was an attraction in speaking the words.

They were smooth, sleek, and slithery, the way a talking snake would sound.

There were words like prySSahbuSS (delicious), SSyng (eat), hijyNN (dinner), eFFuth (taste), and FFn00 (sour).

My progress in all my subjects astounded the mistresses. In my first month I did little right In my second I did little wrong. And gradually, it all became natural: light steps, small stitches, quiet voice, ramrod-straight back, deep curtsies without creaking knees, no yawns, soup tilted away from me, and no slurping.

But in bed, before I fell asleep, I'd imagine what I would do if I were free of Lucinda's curse. At dinner I'd paint lines of gravy on my face and hurl meat pasties at Manners Mistress. I'd pile Headmistress's best china on my head and walk with a wobble and a swagger till every piece was smashed. Then I'd collect the smashed pottery and the smashed meat pasties and grind them into all my perfect stitchery.