Ella Enchanted

chapter 17

I TIGHTENED my grip on Sir Stephan's waist.

"Do you think to be my corset" he complained.

As we approached, Uaaxee opened the door to look for new guests. We were still a distance from the house, so I was able to see her whole. Close up, giants were whatever part was nearest -- a skirt, a bodice, a trouser leg, or a face.

She was three times as tall as a grown human, but no wider. Everything about her was long and narrow: head, torso, arms, legs. However, when she saw us, the long oval of her face changed. She smiled so broadly that her cheeks became peach round, and her eyes behind her spectacles became slits of delight.

"Aiiiee koobee ( screech) deegu ( whistle)!" She lifted Sir Stephan off the horse and then saw me. "Two people! Oooayaagik ( honk) to both of you! Welcome!

The wedding will be in a little while. Udabee!" she called to her daughter, the bride. "Look who's here."

The daughter, surrounded by friends, waved to us.

"I can't stay, madam. I just brought this young lady to find her father."

"Her father?"

"Sir Peter of Frell," I said.

Uaaxee beamed. "So this is his daughter! He never said a word." She turned toward the house. "Where is he? I'll find him. He'll be so glad you're here."

"Please don't," I said quickly. "I want to surprise him."

"Surprise! I love surprises. I won't tell."

Sir Stephan mounted his horse. "I must go. Goodbye, Ella, madam."

"But how can you leave the party? You didn't even come in!"

Sir Stephan looked up at Uaaxee's long face, even longer in distress.

"Madam, it grieves me to go," he said. "Only a matter of the utmost urgency could take me away." He winked at me. "Please don't be sad. I'll only be able to comfort myself if I believe you are happy."

Uaaxee smiled through tears. "At least let me give you food for your journey."

She hurried into the house, calling behind her, "I'll only be a moment"

"Toiling knights are also diplomats," I said.

"When we have to be. I'll tell the prince I left you in large, good hands."

Uaaxee returned with a hamper from which protruded a chicken wing as big as a turkey. Sir Stephan galloped off and Uaaxee hurried away, diverted by new guests.

I entered the house and joined the throng. I could see nothing except the people (or parts of them) nearest me: a group of gnomes arguing about mining techniques, and the skirts of two giantesses. How would I manage to find one human-sized fairy? The only clue would be her tiny feet, and they would be hidden by her skirts.

Giants crowded around a table so tall that I could walk beneath it without bumping my head. On the other side, I came to a stool loaded with food for the small people. While I searched, I might as well eat. I filled my plate (a saucer as big as a platter) with a slice of potato, three foot-long string beans, and a balloon-sized cheese puff.

It was impossible to eat this food and walk. With a napkin draped over my arm and trailing on the floor, I made my way to one of the giant pillows that lined the walls of the dining hall -- couches for humans, elves, and gnomes. I would watch the crowd while I dined.

The silverware was too big. I looked around to see how others were managing.

Some struggled with knives and forks the size of axes and shovels, some stared at their meal in perplexity. And some dug in with bare hands.

The string beans and potato slice were easy. I held them in both hands and ate.

Not so the cheese puff. It oozed when I bit in, and half my face was covered with cheese.

As I cleaned myself, a gong rang out. The deep, booming sound resonated in my chest. The wedding would begin soon.

I followed the crowd as it trooped outdoors. Unconfined by walls, it thinned, and I was able to take in more of the guests at a glance. And there was Father, only a few yards ahead of me, also searching. I stood still and allowed several giants to separate us. Then I hurried to stay close behind them. In their midst I slipped past Father.

After half an hour we reached a cleared field where stands had been erected for giants and smaller peoples. A few humans had arrived and had seated themselves. I slipped behind a tall man, where I would be well concealed. I was close to the aisle and in a good position to scrutinize the feet of new arrivals.

The ladies had to lift their skirts as they climbed. At each step up a boot appeared or a slipper peeped out. I counted them off.

Ordinary foot. Ordinary. Large. Quite large.

The benches were almost full. Father arrived and seated himself far from me.

Ordinary foot. Small, but not small enough. Ordinary. Ordinary. Ordinary. Very tiny! Very tiny!

The two lady fairies, accompanied by a gentleman (who was surely a fairy too), squeezed into the row only two below mine. The gentleman was stoop shouldered and one of the ladies was fat. But the other satisfied every cherished idea of a fairy: tall and graceful, with huge eyes, skin as unblemished as satin, lips as red as pomegranate seeds, and cheeks the color of early sunset.

The stands were too crowded; I couldn't approach them, but I'd watch to make sure they didn't leave.

The wedding began.

The bride and groom came into the field holding hands. She carried a sack, and he carried a hoe. Each wore trousers and a white smock.

At the sight of them, a roar rose from the giants' stands. Giants screeched, moaned, grunted, and hummed that the bride was beautiful, the groom was handsome, they would be healthy for long and forever, and this was the happiest day in anybody's memory.

Aside from enormous smiles, the couple ignored them and began to plant a row of corn. He prepared the ground, and she dropped in seeds from her sack and covered them with moist earth.

As they finished, clouds rolled in and a gentle rain fell, although the sky had been clear when the ceremony started. The giants spread their arms and tilted their heads to receive the drops.

I looked down at the fairies. The two plain ones were smiling, but the beautiful one was rapturous. She seemed to be singing, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

The giants pantomimed their lives together. They farmed and built a house and brought a series of older and older children from the audience into the imaginary home, and then more babies for grandchildren. It ended when they lay down in the grass to signify their deaths together.

Then they sprang up. Benches were overturned as giants poured onto the field to hug them and exclaim over the ceremony.

I stayed in my place, marveling. These giants were lucky to see their lives laid out so sweetly before them. Did the pantomime help? Did it stop ogres from eating you? Did it prevent droughts and floods? Did it keep you from dying before your children were grown?

Except for the beautiful fairy and a number of giants, everyone started back to the house, including Father. I stayed to watch the fairy, hoping -- praying --

that she would reveal herself to be Lucinda. She pushed her way to the newlyweds through a crowd of relatives and wellwishers.

In a few minutes the giants drew away from her. The bride and groom clutched each other. Both were crying. Uaaxee appeared to be pleading. She crouched before the fairy so that their faces were level, and her eyes never left the fairy.

The fairy stroked Uaaxee's arm sympathetically, but Uaaxee flinched at the touch.. Finally the giants turned and walked slowly back to the house. The fairy watched them go, smiling blissfully.

This had to be Lucinda. There was every sign of it. She had probably bestowed a gift on the newlyweds that was as gladly received as mine had been.

"Lady..." I called, my heart pounding.

She didn't hear me. As I spoke, she vanished, without even a puff of smoke or a shimmer in the air to mark her departure. Now I knew for certain she was Lucinda, the only fairy in the world who would disappear in plain view.

"Fool!" I called myself. "Idiot!" I should have spoken to her the moment I suspected who she was. She could be in Ayortha by now, or soaring over an ocean.

I returned to the house and found that the giants had grown somber, although the small people were still merry. I wandered through the hall, munching on this and that, while watching out for Father. Where should I go next? How could I continue my quest?

The other fairies might still be here and might know where Lucinda had gone.

Quickening my pace, I began to search, and in a few minutes I saw them, standing together and looking as sorrowful as the giants. When I had almost reached them, Lucinda materialized in their midst, still smiling.

I pretended to be utterly absorbed in the problem of cracking a gigantic walnut I had taken from the banquet stool.

"I won't waste my breath telling you how wrong it is to disappear and reappear as yogi do," the gentleman fairy told Lucinda. "I hope you don't plan to do it again in the middle of this crowd."

"No, Cyril. How could I leave the scene of my greatest triumph?" Her voice was musical. I smelled lilacs.

"What horror did you visit on this poor couple?" he asked.

"No horror, a gift!"

"What gift, then?" the other lady fairy asked.

"Ah, Claudia. I gave them companionship and felicitous union."

Cyril raised his eyebrows. "How did you accomplish that?"

"I gave them the gift of being together always. They can go nowhere without each other. Isn't it splendid?"

The walnut almost slipped from my hands.

"It's frightful," Cyril said.

"What's wrong with it?" Lucinda thrust her head forward defiantly.

"They'll hate each other within a month," Claudia answered.

Lucinda laughed, a pretty, tinkling sound. "No they won't. They'll love each other more than ever."

Cyril shook his head. "If they argue -- and all loving couples argue -- they'll never be alone to recollect themselves, to find ways to forgive each other."

"You know nothing about,it. Not all couples argue, and these two won't. They're too much in love."

"Imagine he bites his nails, and she doesn't like it," Claudia said. "Or she rocks back and forth when she talks, and he doesn't like it -- they will never have any respite from the quality they don't like. It will grow and grow until all he sees in her is rocking and all she sees in him is nail-biting."

"My gift has nothing to do with nails and rocking. It has to do with the heart, which loves to be near that which it loves."

I forgot my walnut and stared at the mad fairy.

"Visit again in a year," Cyril challenged. "You'll see what the heart loves."

"From now on all giants will elope," Claudia said, "rather than risk a wedding with you as a guest."

"I shall return! And I'll be right and they'll thank -- What are you staring at? I mean you! Wench!" Lucinda whirled on me.