Day 26 – April 26 – Part 1 – Sleeping Beauty

Day 26 – April 26 – Part 1 – Sleeping Beauty

No one was completely sure where Josephine Grim had gone. She had lived in the same house on the same street for 87 years. She was out pottering in the garden nearly every day before the paper was even delivered. Then, one day, she didn’t collect the paper where it fell by her gate. No one noticed the first few days. All the neighbours swore that she kept to herself most of the time and were usually on her way back in the house by the time anyone ventured outside for their papers or to go to work. After about a week someone noticed the pile of newspapers at her gate. Like a good neighbour, they left a note at the gate asking her to please remove the papers as it is an eyesore to the rest of the neighbourhood. After almost two weeks, when the growing pile of newspapers caught someone’s eye again, the neighbours started to argue who should be the one to climb over the gate and either knock on the door and have a word with her or look through the windows and call an ambulance if the worst had happened.

At last Abe drew the short straw and he huffed and puffed over the gate. Luckily he had a proper pile of soggy newspapers to break his fall. He straightened his tie and walked up to the door. A bell hung there along with a bronze knocker in the shape of a lion’s head. He rang the bell, waited a while and then tried the knocker. There was still no answer after the third knock, so he went over to the windows to check if he could see Josephine. He didn’t want to ad “or what was left of her”.

He made his way around the house, knocking on windows and looking through the slits between the curtains. Still nothing. By this time a few of the other neighbours had picked the lock on the gate and also made their way to the house, unsure whether they wanted to find her or not. Soon everyone was whispering about the myriad of deaths they had seen on television shows and which one would be applicable to this situation.

Then Gregory, a teenager strangely adept at picking locks, picked the lock on the back door and stepped inside, a hand over his nose and mouth. The other adults left him to go in alone as they “didn’t want too many people spoiling the crime scene”.

He took a shallow breath. The house smelled… musty but homely. The kind of smell you get when fresh baked cookies are carried through a dusty library filled with old books. But there was another smell underneath it all. The smell of wet earth and new leaves. He took his hand from his face and took a deep breath. Behind him one of the neighbours quickly closed the door before any unwanted smells could drift outside.

Gregory picked his way through the house. The kitchen was empty, so was the living room, corridor, bathrooms (for that he was especially thankful), as well as the first three bedrooms he looked into. At last he came to the end of the corridor and what he surmised was Josephine’s bedroom. The door was closed and he knocked, calling out her name.

“Ma’am?” he tried again after a few seconds. “Ma’am? I am going to open the door.” He took a few steps back and rammed the door with his shoulder as he had seen so many times on the TV. The door didn’t budge and he bounced away with a throbbing shoulder. He used his less heroic – but far less painful – way of entering and picked this lock as well. He hoped no one would ask why he could so easily pick locks, but if he saved Mrs Grim’s life he was sure no one would care. He wondered if he cared enough to give an old lady mouth-to-mouth. He pushed the picture from his mind and opened the bedroom door.

He stepped into the room and felt something give away beneath his foot. With a shudder he looked down. The floor was covered in dirt. Not dust or dirty clothes, papers and plates (like his room), but ground. He pushed the door open farther and realised where the wet-ground-and-leaves smell came from. The room was alive. Or rather, the stuff inside the room.

The dressed was made from living trees, the four poster bed was four living trees, the wardrobes were criss-crossing branches and had actual green, growing leaves on them. Gregory ventured deeper into the room and saw a figure lying in the shadows on the bed.

He switched the bed lamp on and saw that it was a woman – sleeping, by the looks of it. He bent over her.

“Excuse me?” he tried and touched her shoulder. She didn’t stir, so he felt her neck for a pulse. It was there, though it was faint. He watched her for a while and saw that she was breathing very slowly. He looked at her face. She must be about his age, he surmised. And surely, one little kiss wouldn’t hurt…

He bent over and kissed her. And she opened her eyes.

“Gregory!” she said a little sleepy. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to come and wake me.” She sat up and stretched. “Just took a little beauty rest. How long was I asleep? Did anyone worry? How did you get in?”

“I – uh – two weeks – uh,” he stuttered. “Who are you?”

“I’m Josephine Grim, Dear,” she said and picked up a hand mirror. “Oh dear,” she frowned and touched her face. “I think I forgot to set the alarm. How silly of me. That’s the problem with fairy genes, you never quite know how it’s going to turn out. Well, lucky for me I don’t look too old for my Prince Charming, hey?”