Once Upon a Fairy Tale
Hazel scrubbed dishes every evening from 5 pm to midnight. It was dull, monotonous work. It helped if she imagined the plates, covered with streaks of mystery sauce and the occasional light dusting of cigarette ash, were abandoned works of art she was tasked with returning to their original, pristine state.
Her stepdad had told her she was no princess and needed to get a damn job already if she was ever gonna pay off that car loan. Blake, her stepbrother, called it her Golden Chariot, though it was really a used Chevy with 67,000 miles on it. Forget about college. Her dreams and aspirations had been relegated to sleeping in on the weekend.
Sometimes, it felt like the entire world was against her. Hazel’s real daddy skipped town when she was ten, having decided life would be better with another man. His daughter was left on the porch like a forgotten suitcase, empty inside. Hazel’s momma, Elsa, tried her best to fill that void.
At least for a while. But then, she eventually remarried. After she had another litter of kiddos, she fell into an opiate daze from which she’d never return. Though her stepdad never raised a hand against her, his idea of encouragement was to tell her she’d never amount to anything.
“Haze, check this out,” Jalen said, handing her his phone. He was one of the cooks. When the others were out back smoking he’d come to chat and give her a bite to eat. He was kind to her; the others were assholes. Hazel wiped her pruned hands on her soiled apron and took the phone. The huge luminous screen mesmerized her. She still used an old plastic brick one with a keypad and a pull-out antenna.
“What is it?”
Jalen gave her some serious side eye. “For real? It’s only the must-attend party of the year.”
Hazel’s breath drew in.
Visions danced through her mind, a music box of waltzes in a crystal palace lined with red-carpeted stairs, a tiara in her hair.
“Sounds nice,” she allowed.
“Nice? Girl, please. It is going to be fab-u-lous.” His fingers snapped with each syllable. “You gonna go?”
She handed him back his phone and turned back to the sink and dishwasher. “I’d like to…” her voice trailed off, thinking not only of what her stepdad might say but all that stood in her way.
The screen door to the kitchen slammed, prompting Jalen back to his post. Hazel spent the rest of her shift humming the music inside her head.
Jalen texted her the details of the party. The next day, she built up the courage to ask her manager for the night off, promising to work a double shift on Sunday.
In secret, she began to prepare what she was going to wear. She didn’t have the money to buy anything but found a simple sky blue dress buried in a box of her mother’s things. With a hot glue gun in hand, she spent an evening decorating it with rhinestones. She put it on and spun in front of the mirror. A shadow caught the corner of her eye, but when she turned around no one was there.
The evening of the party soon arrived.
“That’s purdy,” said Sam, her youngest half-brother, lying on the floor looking up while she curled her hair.
“Aw, thanks, Sam,” Hazel said.
“Can I paint your nails?”
“Why, sure.”
Sam dumped the nail polish pouch on the floor and chose a color called Midnight Blue. As he got to work, the family cat slipped into the room, brushing its back against Hazel’s legs.
“Shoo, Angel!” Sam cried in dismay. The cat continued its docile attack until finally settling on the bed. Once Hazel’s nails were slick and set, Sam knelt forward to blow on them. He looked up at her with big innocent eyes. “Do you like them?”
“Yes, I do!” She kissed the top of Sam’s head. “Wish me luck!”
Out in the garage, the car wouldn’t start. The engine sputtered but didn’t spark. Hazel squeezed her nails into her palms.
Blake appeared at the door to the garage, sucking silently on a lollipop. Hazel gave him a questioning look.
“Daddy said he wants to see you.”
Panic put its electric fingers around Hazel’s throat. She got out of the car and went inside, where she found her stepdad at the kitchen sink scrubbing his hands. They were covered in grease.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah.” Her stepdad turned to give her an appraising look. His nostrils flared. “Thank the heavens your mother isn’t around to see what you did to her dress. It’s just as well. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”
“What do you mean?” Hazel’s head felt like a reddening balloon.
“I mean the transmission’s shot.” He removed a shop rag from his back pocket and worked it between each finger, though when he was finished, they still looked dirty. “Things break when we least expect them.” The hint of a smile slowly chiseled into the features of his face.
Hazel didn’t dare say a word. She went back to the garage, followed by Angel. Blake slid out from under Hazel’s car on a mechanic’s creeper. He didn’t warn her about the nearby pan of oil, which covered her and the white cat in equal measure. She and Angel took flight. Blake’s laughter followed them out into the night.
“It’s so unfair,” Hazel sobbed into her hands. She sat on a bench in the nearby park.
“It is,” a smoky voice said over her shoulder, “but it doesn’t always have to be that way.”
She turned to find a Latino man wearing a dark hoodie.
“Who are you?”
“You can call me Edmundo.”
“Okay…” Hazel puckered her lips to form her next question. “Are you, like, supposed to be my fairy godfather or something?”
Edmundo winced. “Not exactly,” he said. “I’m a brujo.”
“A what?”
With a huff of resignation, Edmundo said, “A wizard.”
“Oh. Cool.”
After an awkward prolonged silence, Edmundo rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie, revealing intricately patterned tattoos. “Are you ready?”
Hazel stood and shook her head. “For what?”
“Niña tonta. La fiesta!” At that, he brought his tattooed forearms together, which began to glow. Streamers of light enveloped Angel the cat, transforming him into a pearl white Cadillac Eldorado. The stereo system began to thump some Reggaeton beats.
“Your golden chariot, my dear.” Edmundo winked.
“Now, as for you…” He crossed his arms and scratched at the outline of a mustache. He then cracked his knuckles, and the tattoos came alive once more. Hazel felt herself rise into the air as her soiled dress was transformed into something radiant and red. She felt the fabric shorten and hug up against her butt.
Hazel descended softly to the ground. A pair of ruby ballet shoes were fastened to her feet. “So you won’t lose them,” he said. “Just avoid any train tracks.”
Hazel dragged her toe across the dirt, too embarrassed to ask her next question. “Is there…?”
Edmundo pulled down his sleeves. “What? A midnight curfew?”
Hazel nodded.
“Don’t be silly. What kind of party ends at midnight? This magic will carry you through the dawn. Now go!” he exhorted. “Your future awaits.”
He lifted the hood and dissipated into the evening fog. The door to the Eldorado swung open and Hazel sat behind the wheel. She gave it some gas and the engine absolutely purred.
The party was in the old industrial part of town, having since been renovated into a series of lofts and local breweries. A former warehouse had been transformed into a palace for the occasion. The place was so huge it was easy to get lost. Strobe lights flashed in time with the music. The thrumming bass felt both everywhere and nowhere. Hazel avoided the dancing crowds to find a breath of fresh air.
“Are you okay?” a man asked, taking her by the elbow.
“I’m fine, I just — ” Hazel paused when she stared into his eyes. Like a pair of prisms, the colors shifted — green, purple, blue, white, red. He was dashing in a bespoke suit, a real charmer.
“Perhaps you’d feel better if we danced.” He snapped his fingers and the music changed.
“You — ”
“ — can call me Tobias.” He took her hand in his. “Welcome to my party.”
The dance floor cleared for their arrival. There were catcalls and the hisses of jealous women. As far as they were concerned, the man holding Hazel’s hand was royalty. With a confident pull, Hazel twisted towards him. Then, the red shoes took over. Those unchained moments made her forget about her crappy job and broken car, the daily humiliations, the abuse, the shame. For one night, she felt like a queen.
The others gradually refilled the floor, bringing her and Tobias closer together. He slipped behind her and started to grind his hips against her backside. Then, he brought his chin into the crook of her neck. She felt sweat and heat.
“I want you,” he whispered.
Her next word caught in her throat.
“Just for one night.” Tobias flicked a tongue into her ear. His hardness below stabbed at her. Hazel turned to look again into his eyes and saw not love but lust trying to entangle her like a vine.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” She backed away and could see Jalen talking to someone in the distance.
“What? Why?” A white fury came off his breath like a dragon’s flames. “Don’t you want me?”
“No, no,” Hazel held up a hand. “Not like this.” She realized her childhood dreams were made of sand. “I just want to be with my friends.” At that, she began to run.
“NO!” Tobias cried. “Security! Bring her back to me.”
A column of dark-suited men emerged from the shadows to give chase.
“Jalen, help!” Hazel approached, panting.
“Dayum, girl, you fi — ”
“There’s no time! We’ve gotta run.”
They snaked their way through the crowd, down the stairs, and to the car, which somehow knew to pull around. Hazel dived across to the driver’s seat. Jalen slammed the door and shouted, “Go! Go! Go!”
Once they made it out of town, Hazel took a deep breath and explained all that had gone down. “We’ve still got a few more hours until dawn,” she said. “What should we do?”
Jalen leaned back in his seat and lit a thin cigar. “I’m happy to spend it with you, Haze,” he said. “Just drive.”
The End.
