Read first:
- Story 1: Coronavirus in the Fairytale Land. Princess Reasonzel and a Mysterious Virus
- Story 2: Coronavirus in the Fairytale Land. Epidemic at the BALL
A little girl with golden locks was standing in a usually crowded street downtown, crying her wares. Since she had replaced matchsticks with lighters, her life had gained a new meaning. She was no longer a nameless orphan with unwanted goods, but Lighter Lily, who provided people with a coveted anti-virus gadget. Due to the shortage of disinfectants, more and more inhabitants of blocks and skyscrapers who wanted to ride an elevator pushed the buttons with a lighter and disinfected it with its own fire.
Sometimes passers-by asked the girl whether she considered it safe to trade in such a busy place in those days. Other orphans, however, looked up to her for her courage, creativity and entrepreneurship while Lily felt like a partisan fighting behind the lines. She didn’t reckon she could infect anyone since she had no family to worry about. She also didn’t think she could be infected, up until that ill-fated night when, after a few days of warmth, frost set in, surprising her in a light coat and trainers.
Feeling increasingly week, she began to trudge towards a hut she temporarily inhabited, yet she lost her way, burning with fever, and found herself standing not in front of a familiar dwelling, but at the foot of a grand castle.
“Knock, knock! Will someone let me in? It’s cold in here!” she called out at the locked gate, rubbing her rough hands, which hurt from frequent washing.
“Over my dead body!” she heard a woman crying.
“But, mum, there’s a freezing girl out there. How can you keep her outside? What if she is my future bride?” said a second voice, no doubt belonging to a young man.
“If she is freezing, she might just as well be ill. And that’s not a time for finding a wife or for social meetings.”
The youngster sighed, disappointed.
“All right. I don’t have to meet her. But it’s a huge castle. Let her come in and have some warm tea. She could stay overnight and leave in the morning.”
If a gaze could kill, the youngster would have died instantly. Stress resulting from isolation, the dismissal of dozens of servants and the need to clean the castle, cook meals, take care of homeschooling and protect her family from a mysterious illness all by herself made the woman explode at the most unexpected moments.
“As you wish, but if you die, infected with her viruses, I am going to skin you with my own hands before the burial, understand?” The woman’s eyes flashed angrily. “She may sleep here, in the green chamber, in a bed covered by mattresses and 20 feather-beds, under which we will lay a pea. If she sleeps well, she’s well, and if not, we will report her to the Rescue Rangers.”
“I thought it was a means to tell if a girl is a princess, not a virus carrier,” the youngster raised his doubt, helping his agitated mother to make the bed and preventing her from tearing the sheets in fury.
“Got any better diagnostic tools, you whippersnapper? Let me remind you that our land has so far been virus-free, so we are still waiting for official tests to reach us.”
“What about the Evil Queen’s magic mirror? Couldn’t she lend it?” the youngster tried hard to find a solution.
“It doesn’t detect individual cases,” his father joined the conversation. “At the queen’s chant: ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall, who has the coronavirus of them all?’ it only shows a map with highlighted infected areas, charts depicting morbidity changes over time and prognoses for the future. I’ve seen it all at…” the father stopped in mid-sentence, withered with his wife’s murderous glance, which clearly indicated what its owner thought of him spending days and nights at the BALL.
When the castle’s hostess decided that both the room and the path leading to it were ready, the girl was allowed to come inside. Following arrows drawn on the floor with chalk, she reached the green chamber, where she fell on the bed still in her shoes and dropped off.
At the crack of dawn, she was woken up by hysteric cries:
“Girl, gal! How did you sleep?”
Lily looked around. The fever subsided, yet she was far from feeling well-rested.
“I would definitely feel better if I could nap a bit longer,” she answered frankly, having no idea whom she was talking to or why someone had asked that question. “This towering bed is also weird. I might have fallen out of it in the night and bumped my back because I can see some new bruises on my body.”
This comment caused an upheaval behind the door.
“She didn’t sleep well! I told you! She didn’t sleep well, so she must be ill. We need to throw her out immediately. If she stays here, we’re gonna die!” whispered a frenzied female voice.
“May I clear off now? The lighters won’t sell themselves,” observed the girl, who, frankly speaking, felt perfectly healthy.
“Over my dead body!” cried the woman again. “We’re calling a flying carpet.”
“Is that a must?” moaned Lily. “It’s colder than in Arendelle, and the carpet has neither roof nor doors. I’m going to freeze!”
“Stop moaning and dress up,” ordered the woman. “You will fly directly to doctor Dolittle’s isolation ward.”
“You mean this retired vet?” winced the girl, reluctantly putting her coat on.
“I mean the world-class animal health specialist,” corrected her the woman, grumbling in an undertone about the ingratitude of the fairytale youth.
“There’s nothing we can do about that. All professional doctors have been moved to isolation wards in more heavily infected areas, and we have been left with other specialists, often called back from their retirement,” explained her husband. “I don’t mean to rush you, but the carpet will be at your window in just two minutes.”
And so, without seeing a living soul, Lily left the castle, hearing only a wistful sigh of the youngster, who was positive that due to some stupid virus he had just lost his chance to meet the love of his life.
Wrapped up in a white uniform resembling an astronaut’s suit, doctor Dolittle greeted his patient with a rather unusual snack.
“Garlic and raw onion? Yuck!” the girl criticised breakfast. “And what next? Is the virus supposed to be disgusted by them like a vampire and run for it?”
“This is not what I intended. Nevertheless, they should enhance your natural immunity, no matter what pathogens you are currently fighting, so eat up!”
The doctor gazed at her intensely. Almost starving after an evening without supper and a morning without breakfast, Lily devoured two sandwiches.
“And? Did they taste fine?” asked the doctor out of politeness, already knowing the answer. “Have you heard what happened to Dumbo?”
“No, is that a problem?”
The doctor ignored her taunt, having expected that she hadn’t had an opportunity to visit the BALL since the previous day.
“This world-class circus artist has completely lost his smell and taste. We currently believe that it is one of the symptoms of the disease caused by the virus. Naturally, this symptom may also have other causes, and it is much more often observed in animals than in humans, most probably since the former notice the lack of these senses far sooner; nevertheless,…”
“I’m as good as dead, right?” cut in Lily. “It’s over and done with! It’s too late! Tough luck! So much for that! The die is cast! What goes around comes around! I’m kicking the bucket!” The girl was winding up with each subsequent idiom.
“That’s not what I meant. There are things, however, I would like you to know.”
The doctor made himself as comfortable as possible in his protective suit, gesturing for the girl to do the same.
“Have you noticed that the Fairytale Land abounds with orphans? Ugly Duckling, Bambi, Simba… Their parents died in various circumstances, yet I have my own theory about that. Will you promise not to tell anyone about it?”
The girl nodded, reaching out absentmindedly for the next odourless and tasteless sandwich.
“Before I retired, I had been a physician on the savannah and witnessed the dramatic events that afflicted the royal pride. Contrary to the popular rumour, Mufasa didn’t die in an accident caused by his son. It was his brother, Scar, who spread this gossip in order to protect the pride from ostracism. Had the other animals found out that their king was a carrier of a deathly virus, in the best-case scenario they would have boycotted the authority, and in the worst-case – stoned the entire pride to death. Regrettably, that is how the crowd reacts when faced with fear of the unknown and struggle for survival. Scar made sure his brother was not remembered as an unhygienic, irresponsible prat who brought about the demise of his kingdom. Preventing poor little Simba from being treated his entire childhood like a leper, his heroic uncle preferred to condemn him to temporary exile and, if need be, take the blame for Mufasa’s death and for subjecting the pride to a strict quarantine with the help of a cordon of hyenas.”
“Right. So what do I do now?” The girl was growing impatient. “Bite the dust? Are you going to intubate me?”
“There’s no need for that,” assured the doctor, trying in vain to wipe off a tear that appeared under his protective shield at the memory of his visits at the savannah. “And I’m not saying it just because we don’t have the necessary equipment here. I can see you are feeling just fine. You may stay here for observation to eat your fill or return home. Just remember to stay put for at least two weeks. And when you resume selling lighters, put gloves on. Even if you won’t touch anyone, remember that the virus can also survive on surfaces. That is why all cats, which are known for high hygienic standards, currently wear boots.”
The girl nodded, tying her golden locks with a thong and getting ready to leave.
“One more thing. Did you meet anyone on your way to the castle?”
Lily bit her lips, trying to make up her mind. Eventually, she listened to the voice of conscience.
“I was dead tired, and there was light there. I know I shouldn’t have let myself in without an invite, but the door was open, and I promise I didn’t snitch a thing. I only ate some porridge from a bowl, accidentally broke a baby chair and took a nap in a rather shortish bed. But there is not a chance I could have infected anyone, cause when three terrible bear jaws woke me up, I cried and took to my heels.”
“I’m glad that you told me about it. We shouldn’t ignore even the briefest encounters, especially if the hosts gathered around your bed and bent down to inspect you closer. Polynesia,” the doctor called his parrot, who was sitting on the windowsill. “Please warn the bears to stay home. We really can’t and don’t need to do anything more. This virus will be dealt with my way,” said the doctor proud of his telling surname: Do-little.
I hope you enjoyed this story. Feel free to share the link to this page with anyone you want!
If you would like me to write a similar (or a totally different 😉 ) story for someone you know, please read my OFFER or contact me directly at joanna@mypresents.eu .
And if you are at a loss as to how you can celebrate someone’s special day while maintaining social distance, read my ideas for “12 safe gifts to give in the time of a disease”.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JOANNA OSESIK – Polish-English-German translator, teacher, lecturer; privately wife, mother, friend and blogger. In 2020 she published the first of her numerous short stories, which have so far been enjoyed only by her family and friends.
What she cherishes most in fiction is uncovering stories that are concealed or inconspicuous and providing ordinary content with an original, magical lining.
On her blog mypresents.eu/en, she recalls wonderful, ingenious gifts she has given or received and shares her ideas on how to make others smile with personalised presents. In her free time, she also helps readers to write stories as gifts for their nearest and dearest.
Feel free to consult your ideas by writing at joanna@mypresents.eu .
Follow the adventures of fairytale characters in the next story: Coronavirus in the Fairytale Land. Hundred Acre Isolation Ward