Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Wednesday, November 2nd, 1983 - Part 2


     One single window sat high on a wall and let in the blue light of dawn. I was shivering in my witch costume. My hat was gone and replaced with a throbbing headache from whatever was in my drink. I came to and found myself tied to a chair surrounded by bottles of different colors, sizes and ages. But for a cellar, it was very clean.
     I wasn’t alone for long. Jefferson came down the stairs and stood in front of me. His clothes hadn’t changed, either. I stared in silence right back at him.
     “How did you do it?”
     “Do what?”
     He stretched his hands out to present his little cellar. “This!” He crouched down and slapped the concrete floor with a splayed palm. “This! How did you bring us here, Regina?”
     “You brought me down here.”
     “To Storybrooke, Regina!” Jefferson’s words quickened and he ran around the room. “I’d finally found my way back to the Enchanted Forest. But it wasn’t the Enchanted Forest, it was purple smoke. Then the purple smoke lifted and I was in Storybrooke. And everyone was different, except me. I went mad in Wonderland, thanks to you. But they’re all mad, here. At least I know who I am.” He was in my face so fast it was startling. “But you know who you are, don’t you, your Majesty?”
     “So you’re going to kill me as you failed to do last week? Off with my head?”
     “Killing you wouldn’t get me what I need. Give me back my daughter.”
     “You want me to take your memory-wiped daughter away from the memory-wiped couple who think they’re her parents and give her to a sword-wielding madman who drugs women’s drinks? No.”
     “You’ll help me. I’ve brought along some magic of my own.” He pulled out a tiny blue bottle from his pocket and held it in front of my face. “This is from Wonderland, where you left me to rot. It makes the one who drinks it do whatever the one who offers it wants.”
     “And if I don’t?”
     “Don’t test me, your Majesty. None of your soldiers know you’re here. Either give me my daughter or take a drink.”
     I had to smile at his pathetic determination. “You will never be with Grace again.”
     He shoved the bottle to my lips. The blue liquid didn’t even wait for me to swallow. I had taken one drink and immediately felt weaker. Jefferson looked like he was getting farther and farther away. That’s when I realized this potion wouldn’t have the effect on me that he expected it to. It wasn’t happening as fast as Dr. Hopper snapping his fingers, but Regina of Storybrooke was taking over again.
     “You idiot...” was the last thing I was able to say as myself.
     Regina’s memory flashed back to her father on the floor and Belle crying silently beside him. This time I looked beyond them and in the corner was Jefferson. He was opening a window and motioning for the two of them to escape.
     Regina took one look at the man who tied her up and screamed her head off.
     My coin was in my coat pocket. Where my coat was at this point, I had no idea.
     Jefferson did not expect this, and there wasn’t anything I could do to explain it to him, even if I wanted to. But in my experience, it’s not wise to scream at a madman; they’re liable to take rash actions. He pulled a full bottle of wine from a shelf and held it over Regina’s head. I begged her to shut up, but this made her only scream louder. In a moment of mercy or clarity, Jefferson put down the bottle and instead took the ascot from around his neck. A hideous scar that looked like it went all the way around had been hidden underneath it. He balled up the ascot and stuffed it in Regina’s mouth, effectively muffling her screams. Then he ran upstairs and shut the door.
    The reason for him making that choice became clear when I heard Jefferson’s voice joined by another male voice. They spoke briefly until one of the men walked out the door. Thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump. The man walked at his strange pace until he was gone. Then I heard Jefferson leave as well. I half expected there to have actually been a third person up there that whole time and waited for Jefferson to come down again, but he didn’t. After three hours of fear and anticipation, Regina became tired and dozed off.

     “Wake up, dearie.” Mr. Gold said from behind her. Once he had finished untying Regina’s hands, he made his way back around to look at her. “Are you hurt?”
     Regina started crying. She wanted to ask Mr. Gold questions, but her sobbing was so intense she couldn’t.
     “You still need to be quiet.” Mr. Gold held Regina’s hand in his. “Just calm down and be yourself, please?”
     Thank goodness for that arrangement I made with him. I was back to myself and wiped Regina’s tears off my face.
     “How did you find me?”
     “I’d stopped by to check in on my business partner.” He helped me to my feet. “Your screams could be heard out the front door. Everyone knew you were missing but I hadn’t thought to look for you down here.”
     “Didn’t you?”
     “Actually, I thought both of you knew what was going on.” Jefferson revealed his presence before Mr. Gold had a chance to react to my words. “The Dark One made the spell and the Evil Queen cast it. Makes perfect sense to me.”
     Mr. Gold faced him and lightened his tone. “Yes, it does, Jefferson. You’ve found us out.” He looked back at me and winked. I nodded.
     “The Dark One was untying me so I could get you your daughter.” I put a hand on Mr. Gold’s shoulder. “He and I will get her together.”
     The idea of Rumple and I working together was probably Jefferson’s hint that we were lying to him. He charged Mr. Gold and brought him to the ground, his cane spiraling across the floor. Jefferson was landing so many punches on him that I didn’t think he’d see me grab an empty bottle and come for him, but he did. Fortunately I was faster and hit him upside the head with it. Jefferson crumbled to the floor so simply that I thought maybe I’d killed him.
     That’s when Graham and his deputy burst in. They handcuffed Jefferson and were able to bring him to his feet, but he couldn’t stand by himself. His groan let us know he was still alive. The deputy, who stood almost a six inches shorter than Graham, I recognized from home as the son of a miller who climbed the class ladder thanks to his talking cat. I couldn’t remember his name anymore, only that he fell into a downward spiral once his cat died.
     He was strong for a man of his stature and walked Jefferson up the stairs. Graham and I went to Mr. Gold, who was worse off but breathing and surprisingly conscious.   
     “He’ll be all right.” Graham assured me. “We might not have found you in time if it wasn’t for him.”

     I was at the sheriff’s station early the next morning convincing Graham I didn’t want to press charges. Despite what Regina knew, despite the evidence found in Jefferson’s mansion of spying and tracking a little girl named Paige and everything else.
     “He has to come to justice for abducting you. It doesn’t matter whether you want it or not. Mr. Gold was a witness, I was a witness and Deputy Sanchez was a witness.”
     I couldn’t argue with him. Whatever passed as justice in this world had to happen, but I was confident there was something I could do in any realm with my authority: manipulate the system.
     I donned my coat (which I’d forgotten at home—never again) and went to the hospital later that afternoon. I walked down into the mental ward and into Jefferson’s guarded cell. He was strapped to his bed for his own protection. I asked the guard to step outside for a moment. I placed my hand in my pocket and squeezed Daniel’s coin for reassurance.
     “You’re going to trial as soon as you’re fit enough.” I sat on the edge of his bed. Jefferson was too medicated to speak, but his eyes told me he was listening to what I was saying. “I’ve spoken with the DA as well as the judge and you’re going to be released. But you’re going to be a marked man. You won’t be allowed near me and you won’t be allowed anywhere near her. She’s going to be just fine, just like most of the children here, but she’ll never be yours.”
     I rose from his bed as tears came from his helpless eyes. It was so heart-warming.
     “You better hope the savior arrives.” I said as I walked out the door.

     The next day, Mr. Gold knocked on my office door. He was bandaged up a bit and had bruises on his face, but was otherwise able to walk just fine with the use of his cane.
     “I just wanted to check in on you.” He only winced a little after I’d helped him to a seat on my sofa.
     “It seems I’m better off than you.” I offered him some coffee.
     “This is nothing.” He politely refused a cup. “I’ve had worse injuries than this.”
     “Thank you for saving me.” I sat in my chair across from him.
     “It is I who should be thanking you, in a way.” He sat back slowly. “Had Jefferson gone to jail he still could have found a way to maintain his assets. Now that he’s to stay a certain distance away from you and that child, he is unable to conduct business at the Rabbit Hole.”
     “Couldn’t he just be in charge from his house?”
     “Our contract specifically states that the co-owners need to set foot in the building on a regular basis. I’ve sensed his mental instability for a while. Certainly I wouldn’t wish what he did to you on anyone, but since he can’t go there anymore, you’re looking at the sole owner of the Rabbit Hole.”
     “Well, Mr. Gold, I suppose some sort of congratulations is in order.” I tilted my head to him and raised my coffee cup to him. “Quite a few residents pay their rent to you. How much of Storybrooke do you own now?”
     “Most of it, apart from your house and the cemetery.” He bowed his head and tapped his cane lightly on my floor. Modesty was something I wasn’t used to seeing from him. “As well as some parts of the surrounding forest.”
     “I’m sure there’s plenty of time for that.” I drank from my cup and thought about how much power he really had here.
     “Well, I’ll let you get back to your work. I wouldn’t want you to stay later than everyone else tonight.”
     Perhaps Mr. Gold was the kind of man who didn’t think before words came out of his mouth. Rumpelstiltskin, however, was the kind of man who made sure every word had a purpose.
     “Let me help you up.” I rose from my seat.
     “No, I’ve got it.” He put all of his weight on his cane and stood up. “I can see myself out. Please, sit and drink your coffee.”
     I sat back down, drank from my cup, watched him leave and thought about how much power he really had here.








No comments:

Post a Comment