I have discovered lasagna. I love lasagna.
It was the next thing to make in my
cookbook. I’m eating it right now as I write this entry. Back home we had
cheese and tomato sauce and even noodles, but never had anyone thought of
layering them with ground beef and baking it all until everything was hot and
melted! This is truly the best thing about living here. Though not better than
revenge, lasagna is my reward for exacting my revenge.
I’ve discovered over the last couple of
days, when not being attacked in the dark, that I’m actually a natural when it
comes to cooking. It’s not too different from making spells. There are rules
and rituals you have to follow just as you would to create a potion. It takes
less time, too. The ovens here don’t run on logs, but gas. And I’m eating
what’s known as leftovers, because it’s left over from what I made last night.
You can keep food longer here because of refrigerators, which are just great.
Again, more magic this world has that the old one did not. So it’s really no
problem to make all of this food and I certainly don’t need to hire anyone for
that. But I can only imagine few things will compare to lasagna.
Graham taught me how to drive on Wednesday.
I don’t like it. There’s more to concentrate on than there is when riding a
horse. There are gears and clutches and brakes. If you touch one before the
other the car makes a horrible sound. Then you have to pay attention to
everyone else driving their cars or crossing the street. After our first day of
driving, I pushed all of my mayoral duties and took a nap at home. But after
practicing one more time today and getting Graham’s approval, we went to the
department of motor vehicles and I officially have my driver’s license. This is
a great bit of independence I have now, but Graham’s not convinced I’m
completely safe. He thinks whoever attacked me will try again and I don’t doubt
it.
“Are you sure you can’t remember what he
sounded like?” Graham has no leads. There were no names I could give him, since
I don’t know what anyone’s name is here until I hear it. No evidence was left
behind, either. “He was yelling at you. You don’t remember if he sounded young?
If he had an accent?”
“I told you, I don’t remember, and the
more I try to remember, the fuzzier it is. It was just fast and intense. One
second I’m walking and the next I’m on the ground with hands around my throat.”
Before he left for the station, he
suggested I see someone named Dr. Hopper and maybe he could help me remember.
He pointed to his office and I told him I would.
“Your concern for my safety is touching.” I
had to know my curse worked properly. “Are you on call whenever I need you?”
He looked around, perhaps to see if anyone
was watching us. I certainly didn’t know what our history was here. All Graham
has revealed to me is we’ve known each other since he’s been sheriff and he’s
been sheriff as long as he can remember. Once he seemed satisfied that our conversation
was private, his grey eyes settled back on me.
“Yes.”
“Then I need you tonight.”
“I only just heard. I’ve been so wrapped
up in my own world. David left me.” She cut me off before I had a chance to
respond, which was good because I didn’t know what to say. “No, it’s all right!
I’m fine! We should go out for drinks and dancing tonight!”
“I have plans tonight.” I knew I upset
her. “Maybe tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s good for me!” She perked right
up. “It’s Thursday! Are you going to the florist? I’ll go with you.”
Kathryn led me where I always went on
Thursdays, to Moe’s Flower Shop. Inside, Moe was part of a tense discussion.
Though Moe was twice the man’s size and behind a long counter, it was obvious
the little man made him tense. He made me tense, too.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you, Mr. Gold.”
Maurice said. There were silver bells on the door that jingled as it swung
behind us. The gentlemen turned to us.
“Hello, Madam Mayor.” There he stood at
the other end of the counter. His skin wasn’t shiny and his voice was softer, but
there was no mistaking Rumpelstiltskin. “Allow me to congratulate you, please.”
I froze and held out my hand. He reached out one hand to me and walked around
the counter, but it took longer than it would for others to reach me. His twisted
right leg and the cane he held in his left hand to assist him were reassuring. Any
man with a leg like that couldn’t run faster than a sheriff’s deputy.
“Thank you, Mr. Gold.” I shook his hand.
He smiled at me and nodded to Kathryn.
“Here’s your bouquet, Miss Mills—Madame
Mayor.” Maurice corrected himself and handed me a bunch of pink roses.
“I don’t need any roses.”
“But it’s Thursday. Have you stopped
visiting your father’s tomb on Thursdays?”
“Does everyone know that?”
“It’s a small town, Madam Mayor, and
certainly visiting your father isn’t something to hide. Please give him my
regards.”
This curse is great, but the fact that
everyone knows everything about me is getting creepy.
Before Kathryn and I parted ways, I
asked her to remind me how to get to the cemetery. I convinced her that my mind
was scattered ever since the attack and she offered to come with me, but I
insisted this was something I needed to do alone.
Driving along the road through the trees
brought the poem to my mind.
Branches
give way to the bridge beneath.
I crossed a bridge and was at the cemetery
in no time.
The
Queen will find the distance brief.
I walked to the back of the cemetery,
where the mausoleums were.
Past
those who could not join you here, twin stags will let you know you’re near.
I opened the doors of the tomb with my
families crest. Inside was one lone coffin.
HENRY
MILLS
BELOVED
FATHER
I sat the flowers down and remembered the
next verse.
“Mr. Gold gives you his regards.” That
damn agreement I made with him.
Push
the edge until it shifts.
This stumped me for a moment, I’ll be
honest. I was pushing on walls, urns and anything else with an edge before I
tried pushing my father’s coffin. I told myself that even though this was his
coffin, my father wasn’t in it. It moved easier than I expected and gave way to
a stairwell.
Seventeen
steps lead to five gifts.
There, below the tomb, was my home away
from home, away from Home. Rather, our old home. Along with my heart chamber
and the compartments holding my other pieces of magic, behind a false wall was
an apartment almost as grand as my house. There was a tribute to my beautiful
tree in the center of the room done in crystal. Along the walls stood some of
my favorite outfits from the old land on display. I found skeleton keys on a
table that I immediately put in my pocket. But there was something else here I
needed to find. Down one hall revealed a glass coffin. Inside, peacefully
preserved, was Daniel. There was no one here to see me cry and no curse could
ever harden my heart against him. Sitting on top of his coffin was a small
coin. I looked into it and saw him smiling at me through magic. I put the coin
in my other pocket and vowed to never get rid of it. I spent a long time in
that room.
It was dusk when I drove away from the
cemetery. It was a draining day, but a valuable one. And soon I’d be with
Graham. That was something nice to think about. Visions of him were so powerful
that I didn’t see who I hit. He flew over my car and it screeched to a halt as
I slammed the breaks. I ran out to see Charming in a heap. His face was
bleeding, as well as his stomach, but I knew it was him.
The thought occurred to me to leave him
there and let him die. That’s what I did back home. But the damage his body did
to my car was noticeable. Everyone knew where I was on Thursdays and there was
always the chance he’d be found no matter where I hid him.
So then my decision was to help him, which
sickened me. The big question was how to do that. Should I just drive into town
and get help? That struck me as unwise. I searched my car for an idea and found
a phone in a console. I unraveled the cord and looked for the number to the
sheriff’s department. I dialed the number and was relieved when it rang. Graham
answered the phone.
“I hit someone.”
It didn’t take long for an ambulance to
find us and take him to the hospital. The noise those things make is
ridiculous, but at least you know where it is. Graham was with me in the
waiting room. He had to fill out a report. I recounted everything of importance.
“You’re going to have to go to court.” He put
his paperwork away. “Your license might be suspended, but we may be able to
override that if you can convince the court it wasn’t your fault.”
Soon after, Dr. Whale came out.
“He’s in a coma.” He said. “We don’t know
when he’ll wake up and he had no identification on him. Did you recognize him
at all?”
“No.” This was true for Storybrooke. I
didn’t know who he was here or if I was even supposed to know him.
I was made his emergency contact and went
home. I went upstairs and nearly screamed when Graham knocked on my bedroom
window.
“Why didn’t you knock on the door?” I
finally caught my breath.
“I’ve always come in this way. Can I start
using the door?”
“Not yet.” I let him come in and he
quickly started to disrobe. “Can I ask something?”
“What?”
“Mr. Gold wouldn’t be faking his injury,
would he?”
“No.” This was the first time he looked at
me like something was wrong. “He hurt his leg in the Vietnam war. It’s beyond
fixable.” He gestured to his completely naked body. “Are you still in the
mood?”
“Get on the bed.” I pushed him and took
off my clothes.
Before he left through the window, I made
sure to give him some lasagna.
Mmm.
Lasagna.
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