Friday, October 30th, 2009

     I had to order a pattern for a knight’s costume to be delivered. There’s not a lot of demand from little boys in town to dress up as knights, just as there’s not a lot of demand from little girls to dress up as princesses. I don’t know if that’s due to the curse or just the leanings of the children here, but I’m sure that’s how it is everywhere else, too.

     I decided to have his costume made by someone else, this time, for the sake of convenience. We took it over to some seamstresses who must have been mice or birds back home, because the ladies chirped and tittered with their shrill voices over Henry and how great his costume would look. I was not looking forward to hearing their voices again a few days later, when we had to go back for the final fitting. The women fluttered around my costumed son. He beamed at me while quick fingers lifted his costume here and pinched it there.

     The costume itself was very basic. It just looked like chainmail and a tunic. That would never protect a soldier for long. I suggested we add a helmet at least, and add a plume to the top.

     “That’s not practical, mom.” Henry rolled his eyes.

     “But it would be intimidating.” I looked to the seamstresses for encouragement. A couple of them nodded and splayed their fingers over his head to mimic what I was suggesting. “A big, black plume on top of your helmet would make a statement.”

     “No, it wouldn’t. That would just look silly.”

     I didn’t remember anyone laughing at my soldiers when they made an entrance, but this was Henry’s idea of a knight, so I held my tongue. The ladies put their hands down and went back to work.

     Henry’s costume was ready the following day. He was so excited for the field trip, but I haven’t shared his enthusiasm. I’ve had a bad feeling about this field trip, and I keep having those same nightmares..

     Finally, today arrived. Miss Blanchard’s class gathered at the school to board the bus before the sun was even up, since the show aired at seven. All of the students were full of energy and in their costumes as the bus made its way to Storybrooke One, while the parents were chugging coffee and wondering how the children’s energy was even possible. We reached the studio in no time, and our hoard of monsters and other characters went inside. Waiting for us was someone familiar to everyone’s morning.

     “Hi, kids!” The pleasant woman waved to the children in her smart attire. “Welcome to ‘Good Morning, Storybrooke’! My name is Goldie Locksley, and I’m one of the co-anchors for the show. Are you excited to be here?” The children cheered. “Let’s save some energy for the show, okay?” Goldie spoke with the enthusiasm of telling a story to very small children. “Do we have any future correspondents for our show here, today?” A few kids shot their hands up in the air. “Well, you’ll have to work hard and you’ll have to be patient. I used to be the weather girl, but I was just promoted because the last anchorwoman died.” Goldie probably shouldn’t have ended that with a smile, but she did.

     “But you’ve always been the co-anchor.” Henry piped up. “I’ve seen you on the show ever since I was little.”

     I instinctively reached out to stop him from talking, but I held back. Let him go on, I thought.

     Goldie looked confused for a second, but recovered quickly. She lifted her head and spoke to the parent-chaperones. “Kids, right? Anytime before right now is when they were little!”

     All of the parents laughed and nodded.

     “What’s your name, sir knight?” Goldie pointed to Henry.

     “Henry.” He said, no longer impressed.

     “Well, Sir Henry, do I have a surprise for you! Everyone, would you like to meet my co-anchor, Hart Archer?”

     Most of the students—and some of the parents—were thrilled at this idea. So Goldie led us all to the make-up department. Hart was sitting in front of a mirror with tissue tucked into his collar. He turned to all of us.

     “Good morning, Storybrooke Elementary students!” Hart greeted us just like he was introducing the show. Everyone loved it, except Goldie, who sighed and was clearly jealous of his ability to work the show title in his greeting. “Ready to watch us do the show?” Everyone cheered. “Well, for the last segment, you’ll be on the show with us! Are you excited?” The children screamed. Hart was clearly not prepared for this. He looked like he was about to jump out of his make-up chair before Miss Blanchard took over and calmed the children down. Everyone finally quieted as a man with a headset over his ears and a cup of coffee in each hand walked up to them.

     “Everybody say hi to Steve.” Goldie took one of the cups from him. Steve waved at us as soon as Hart took the other. “Steve will let you know when to come up to the desk with us, okay?” She took a sip of her drink and made a face before handing it back to him. “Steve, this latte is too cold. You know I can’t drink this. And yesterday, it was too hot.”

     “Nothing’s good enough for you.” The tone of his voice, slumped shoulders and puppy dog eyes suggested he was talking about more than just the coffee. He whispered, loudly and very ineffectively, “And no one.”

     “Now is not the time, Steve.” Goldie spoke in a lower voice and out of the side of her mouth. She looked at a watch on her wrist that wasn’t there and spoke in her on-camera voice. “Wow, everyone, it’s time to go to set!”

     Hart and Goldie left us, and Steve escorted us all to the set. It was much smaller than it looks on TV. The desk, the reading area and the kitchen were all on the same stage. There was no place for the children to sit, so we stood behind the cameras. The view was not good, and the students fidgeted and complained, but Steve got them all to calm down and be quiet for the show.

     The show progressed quickly, and soon it was the final commercial break. The students were rushed on set and placed in front of the anchor desk. Goldie and Hart got up from their chairs and came around to the children. The two of them were all smiles as the break ended and the music came back on.

     “Here are some students from Storybrooke Elementary in their scary costumes for Halloween!” Hart told the cameras. He bent down to a little cowboy. “What’s your name, pardner?”

     “Sam.” Henry’s first friend was almost too quiet. Steve passed Hart a microphone.

     “I reckon you’re supposed to be a cowboy, Sam?”

     “Yes, Mr. Archer.” All of the adults “awwed”.

     “What grade are you in?”

     “Kindergarten.”

     “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

     “A first-grader.” The cuteness was almost too much for even me.

     “Well I think you’ll just have to wait another year for that, buckaroo!”

     “He won’t be in the first grade.” Henry spoke up. Everyone turned, not expecting him to speak yet. “He’ll be in kindergarten again, just like he has been every year.”

     “Stop picking on him.” A taller boy stepped forward and stood up to, or rather, over, Henry.

     “I’m not picking on him, I’m telling the truth.” His words made my pulse race. He looked straight up at the boy. “He’s never leaving kindergarten, just like you’re never getting past the sixth grade.”

     The boy didn’t look confused like Goldie did earlier. His response was just to hit him.

     Henry fell to the floor and the anchors stood back. I wanted to rush to him but felt dizzy. For the first time in years I actually reached in my pocket for Daniel’s coin. I didn’t have to look at it, thank goodness, and the swaying subsided. Henry stood back up and hit the boy back, and the two boys fell into a brawl. Everyone on the set rushed to tear them apart. Two burly camera men picked up the boys and separated them. Henry was furious. He was kicking and shouting “None of this is real!” One man was still standing behind his camera and got every second of this. I ran over and ordered him to turn it off before rushing to my son. The field trip and the show were over for today.