THE WORST OF LOVE CONTESTANT
Sunlight melted frost from their feet. Wallace watched her blonde strands blow in the autumnal breeze. Cotton clad her figure, but from this distance it appeared as silk, the way it shone and outlined her curves.
Anne stared back with eyes of coal and the hint of smile he’d fallen in love with.
Ravens collected on her arms worshipping her savage beauty. It had been this way since time began, a sea of cornstalks separated them.
A speckled dove, Anne’s favorite, landed on his outstretched arms, hopped upon his shoulder, and nibbled at his hat. He laughed and hoped the bowing cornstalks would carry it to his blonde beauty across the fields.
The dove finished pecking his hat, nestled his face, and cooed into his ear. Wallace smiled at the message and whispered his own. It stretched it wings and flew. As he watched it fly over the fields, he felt a pang of sadness. They would never be together. Not the way he or she wished.
They were destined to their poles overlooking the earth, caged guardians.
The dove lighted upon Anne’s shoulder. He saw her eyes sparkle in the morning light.
A bark of voices drew his attention. Two men led horse and carriage. They laughed and joked not minding the stalks they strode over.
A murder of crows flew from Wallace’s feet as the carriage approached, halted. One of the men hauled a ladder. “Yep, it’s a pity for the young princess. I don’t know what kind of magic they’s up against, but we’ve done run outta straw. The princess insisted on more.”
He placed the ladder against Wallace’s pole. “Yeah? Well, I heard that they’s are also trying to figure out names and comin’ up with weird one’s they are!”
Wallace heard twine snip. The upper half of his body fell forward.
“I hear,” said the man holding the horse. “That some evil gnome is trying to kidnap the baby.”
Another snip of twine and Wallace fell like a rag doll.
Wallace! Anne’s voice called for him. Ravens and grackles cawed.
So this is it, he thought, it’s the end.
The man tossed him into the carriage; Wallace’s face hit the wooden side.
Moans and weeping sifted up from the pile beneath him. Others? He thought, how many others?
Wallace! Anne’s voice cried out again. The doves mourned.
He couldn’t hear the men above the rumble of the carriage and the mass of weeping beneath him. Wallace thought of Anne. Her blonde straw contrasted to her white form, her dark eyes, and teasing smile. He would never see her again. Never.
The cart stopped. They were lifted and tossed into a wheelbarrow, then wheeled into the castle. Wallace watched in amazement as they rolled through a labyrinth of stone walls and candlelight. Finally, they entered a tiny room. A spindle stood in the middle. A candle licked the darkness beside it.
Lifted and tossed, Wallace landed with his back propped against the wall. He saw two piles on the floor, the lesser a heap of straw bodies, the larger spun gold. It pooled into golden chains cascading across the dirty floor.
Murder! Murder! cried the voices of the straw folk. The room reeked of screams and silent accusations.
Wallace closed his eyes to their screams and horror of the sharp spindle’s needle. The door slammed shut, bolted. He thought of Anne. Her soft kisses blown across the fields.
A clank of bolts echoed and the door opened. Another wheelbarrow came in.
“It’s the last of ‘em,” said a gruff voice.
Something soft was tossed on his lap. It wept. Its cry pricked his ears. The door shut.
“Wallace,” her voice whispered above the cries.
He opened his eyes, and there in his lap laid Anne. The glow of candlelight illuminated those coal eyes.
“Anne,” he whispered. Willing all his power and muscles he’d never used, he raised his arm and placed his straw hand upon her brow, touching the blonde strands he’d dreamed about.
Their eyes met. It was enough that they touched, felt, needed.
Again the door opened. Soft footsteps crept in.
A sniff and a gentle, “Thank you,” caused Wallace and Anne to pause and turn to the female who entered the room. She wore a golden crown, red hair spilled down her violet dress. The princess took the fragile creature in a bundle of cream blankets. They could hear the easy breathing of the baby.
“I love you, my son,” she whispered, then handed him back to the guard. “Take him. Hide him where we spoke.”
“Yes, my lady.”
They heard the princess’s breath catch as the guard’s footsteps whisked away, and she closed the door once more.
She lifted the candle from the chair and set it upon the floor, then pulled a straw body from a nearby pile. Her foot tapped the pedal. The wheel spun. She grasped a handful of straw and began to work. The straw man’s scream filled the room.
The princess focused on her task, oblivious.
Wallace and Anne watched mesmerized as the sparkle of golden chains spooled from the spindle.
The princess pulled straw from the bodies one by one, until the candle burned low and the shadows grew long on the wall.
Anne and Wallace looked into each other’s eyes, each speaking the thoughts and murmurs of lovers as their time approached.
We will die, said Anne.
Wallace shook his head and smiled. No, we shall be spun together, my love, two threads of gold woven into one. We shall live forever.
Anne smiled at this, and when the princess’s bleeding fingers reached for them, he saw in Anne’s eyes that she was unafraid.
The princess mixed their life’s straw together upon her lap, and the wheel began to spin. Their souls and straw merged into stardust of magic and gold.
©2009 Jodi MacArthur
Jodi MacArthur serves imagination raw on an open flame. Bring your fork to www.jodimacarthur.blogspot.com. Published online and in print, she is currently working on her first novel, Devil’s Eye.
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January 1st, 2010 at 3:21 am
Hi Jodi, great story.
Very dramatic - cool.
January 1st, 2010 at 11:29 am
this is fantastic! a true romance; definitely “the worst of love”… there was the familiar story of the princess’s love for her child (rumpelstililtskin) “woven” (to steal a phrase) with a new, beautifully drawn love in the fields of life; jodi bro’t us into the desperation of love. so cool how she painted love the same for the highest “princess” working with “bleeding fingers” & the lowest “scarecrows” with love so strong “the doves mourned”. then bringing us happiness in the end; happiness not for condition, but for love “two gold threads woven into one”. simply beautiful!! great way to start the year!! thanx!
January 1st, 2010 at 12:57 pm
Excellent story as usual Jodi - one of your best pieces of work so far I think. Really enjoyed it, thanks for the read
January 1st, 2010 at 1:28 pm
Excellent stories, Jodi. Great imagery, language, and twists. I’m giving you two high-tens and a few high-fives.
January 1st, 2010 at 4:53 pm
Nice interweave of fairytale into a happy ending!
January 1st, 2010 at 5:43 pm
simply way cool.
January 1st, 2010 at 9:30 pm
Michelle, Billy, Graeme, Kevin, Laura, and Mike - Thanks you so much for carving out a piece of your very first day of the year to read and comment on my work. I can tell you REALLY get what the story was saying. It means so much and makes my day.
This story rips my heart. I can’t stand that the scarecrow folk were rounded up and murdered. Even if it is to save the princess’s son. I see a revolt in the future. And I think humans are going to regret not paying enough attention to the life around them.
January 1st, 2010 at 9:57 pm
Wonderful story to read on this first day of the new year. Beautiful and vivid. Loved this line: “Their souls and straw merged into stardust of magic and gold.”
And, yes, murder most foul!
A very creative and magical twist to an old story!
January 1st, 2010 at 10:27 pm
Jodi, you never let me down. This is full of love and magic. Fear and wickedness. Work and pleasure, they treasured. I would have been so disappointed if they hadnt been woven together.
January 1st, 2010 at 10:55 pm
Aw, thanks girls! I’m so glad the magic worked on your hearts like it did mine.
You both are great.
January 2nd, 2010 at 1:25 am
You write magic! There were so many phrases, descriptions, and folk in this piece that I absolutely loved. Suspense, mystery, romance, and horror, all written in that unique Jodi style - you are making the rest of us sweat!
January 2nd, 2010 at 4:45 am
Jodie, You got in the straw peoples head and found love! How cool! You truly are the lost sister Grimm. Maybe this is how gold got its romantic sheen.
January 2nd, 2010 at 10:43 am
Oh, Jodi! This was mesmerizing. I have actual goosebumps. Fabulous piece of writing. Damn, you are good.
January 2nd, 2010 at 3:35 pm
Jodi I love how you blend hints of classic stories into this wonderful new tale that is all your own. I’m also glad to hear you say, ” I see a revolt in the future” meaning there will be more to look forward to. Clever & imaginative as I’ve come to expect from you. Bravo JoJo!
January 2nd, 2010 at 4:06 pm
Erin, thank you so much for the kind words. After reading that poem of yours at Negative Suck, I think it’s the other way around. You raise the bar for us all. That might be the most amazing piece of poetry I’ve ever read.
Daniel & Laurita - I’m thrilled to pull you out of China and that little rock on the edge of ocean into a world of twisted fairytales and romance between scarecrows. The magic is if I can get you to believe along with me. Thank you!
Har Bro- Thanks, Buddy. Yes, I guess you know about my weirdness by now.
Thanks for following along and yes, there will definitely be a revolt in the future. I can fill it tickle the very back of my mind. I might have to bring Wallace and Anne back from the dead. Perhaps if the necklace is stolen by the little dove and passed down through generations of scarecrows. Ha- you already got me goin. Thanks again for reading!
January 3rd, 2010 at 8:41 am
That was beautifully haunting! You gave a whole new meaning to romance. Such a creative idea to use scarecrows - their entire lives meant to scare birds-ha.
Your writing is so masterful in this fairytale! I really enjoyed it! This really should be part of a series, or book!
January 3rd, 2010 at 2:09 pm
one of the few love stories i’ve liked…
January 3rd, 2010 at 3:13 pm
Thank you so much for your kind words, Anne! And I absolutely plan on writing about the scarefolk again. I see a revolt in the future.
January 4th, 2010 at 7:22 am
This story has the power to resurrect the camel with the broken back. You’ve created a modern fairy tale from the simple element of straw. It’s destined for classic status. Great stuff, Jodi.
January 4th, 2010 at 5:07 pm
Thanks Ang and Quin!
January 4th, 2010 at 7:29 pm
Jodi, Jodi, Jodi!!! My god that was tragic and beautiful and to think you pulled at my heartstrings for scarecrow and to twist in classic fairy tale. Just brilliant. That’s some awesome story telling my friend.
January 5th, 2010 at 9:16 am
Jodi,
Another perfect set of words! And my little ‘ol storys is supposed to compete with this?!
Great job Jodi - as always!
Jim
January 5th, 2010 at 7:18 pm
Extraordinary, magical, evocative, chilling, mesmerising, moving. You keep lifting the bar Jodi. Fabulous.
January 7th, 2010 at 10:51 am
Oh, a lovely point of view on a classic fairy tale. Your prose is delightful, Jodi, delightful. You could write about suet pudding and I’d read it happily.
February 13th, 2010 at 12:37 pm
Jodi,
You are the queen of wickedly amazing fairy tales.
March 2nd, 2010 at 7:21 pm
Was messing around at PPM which led me to the beaten dog which led me here. Better late than never. Imaginative, magical, a fantastic creation written like a charm. Top stuff, girl.
March 3rd, 2010 at 4:51 am
Haunting, lyrical, magical and engaging. Great stuff Jodi, keep it coming.
March 14th, 2010 at 4:27 pm
Just saw these comments, Richard and Miss Alister. Thanks you two! Hugs
May 1st, 2010 at 2:42 pm
Quite simply superb. It’s all been said above and I couldn’t agree more. (I’m late to this but Laurita has linked it on her latest post. I’m so glad she did.
)
May 4th, 2010 at 12:48 am
Thank you, David! I’m so glad you enjoyed.
What a gem Laurita is to have this story linked up to her site.
You people are too kind!
January 7th, 2011 at 1:26 pm
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