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.

Wednesday, November 2nd, 1983

     At the end of the month, this realm celebrates a holiday called Halloween. I’ve had a chance to read up on this one and it seems to be all about celebrating scary things. Somehow, the people of this realm find themselves in the luxurious position of being able to celebrate scary things because they’re not touched by them. Or perhaps they celebrate them in the hope that they won’t be touched by them?

     The people of this town—with their memories wiped and replaced with the ability to drive and the knowledge of what I do on Thursdays—seem to also know how to celebrate this holiday as well. Pumpkins had crude faces carved into them and set beside every front door. Taking a cue from everyone else, I even carved one. I don’t want to brag and say mine was the best, but some of us are just better at using a knife than others.

     Another tradition is to dress up. I learned about this from Kathryn, who wanted to know what I was planning to be. She let me know that my costumes are usually impressive while we drank coffee at Granny’s on the morning before. I toyed with the idea of using one of my actual queenly gowns but decided against it. Wouldn’t want anyone to think it looked familiar.

     “Are you going to get candy to pass out to the children?” This was clearly Kathryn’s favorite holiday.

      “Why would I do that?”

     “That’s true.” She sipped her coffee and looked appreciatively at a large pumpkin with an elaborate wolf carved into it that sat on a table. Clearly, I wasn’t the only woman skilled with a knife.

     Kathryn put her mug down on the table with a force that almost made her coffee spill out. “But we’re two single adult women. We should go out and have some fun! There’s a party at the Rabbit Hole tomorrow night. We should go!”

     So we did. I went through my closet and discovered that I really did have quite a few costumes. I decided to go as what I guessed was supposed to be a witch. The hat looked funny and the costume itself was really very simple. This realm has no idea what detail is. Kathryn said she was dressed as a shepherdess, but her costume was entirely impractical for herding sheep. She seemed happy with it though, so we went to the bar with all of the other childless adults of Storybrooke.

     The band was playing their music louder than usual, and the crowds of costumed people reminded me of Snow and Charming’s reception that I crashed. Only the dancing was much worse.

     We managed to find a table to sit at. Before we’d even had a chance to sit, a waitress put two drinks in front of us. She motioned to the bar to show us who they were from. Dr. Whale lifted his own glass and winked at us.

     “How can a man who looks that drunk have ordered drinks for us that fast—Kathryn, no! Stop waving at him!”

     But he was already staggering over to us. He greeted over the loud music with his whiskey breath.

     “May I propose a toast to Halloween?” He began. “A holiday I admittedly don’t understand, but is officially my favorite thing about October.” I reluctantly took a drink with them. He wasn’t too drunk to remember our previous encounter and instead focused all of his attention to my giggling friend. “I’m working on a big program and I’m looking for volunteers. Would you be interested in volunteering?” He asked Kathryn’s breasts.

     “Maybe after another one of these.” Kathryn cut through the doctor’s subtext. “Thank you for buying us our drinks.”

     “I didn’t buy them for you. I was just alerted to your presence.” Dr. Whale pointed out into the club. “He did.”

     I followed his finger and went cold. Jefferson was one of my suspects, but it still shocked me to see him here. His costume was the last set of clothes I saw him wear in Wonderland. He was about twenty feet away talking to one of the bartenders. Almost on cue, after the doctor pointed to him, Jefferson’s head turned and looked directly at me.

     “What’s he doing here?” My words came slower out of my mouth than I intended.

     “He owns the Rabbit Hole.” Dr. Whale said.

     I put my drink down.

     Jefferson walked onto the stage where the band was playing and got them to stop. The crowd quieted to hear him speak. 

     “The fire marshal has declared that there is no room! Move down to the exit! We’ll let everyone back in when he gives his okay.”

     The massive crowd moved as one. I got up from my stool and it felt like the floor moved. I wanted to stand still so it could stop, but Kathryn wouldn’t let me. She held my hand and looked back at me once, then looked ahead at the exit and never looked back. A swarm of people moved between us and I lost my grip on her hand. I don’t know why she didn’t seem to notice. Maybe she felt confident we were all going to the same place? Everyone became taller and I shrank down to the floor. My knees had given out, but that face I couldn’t see that rainy night was over me now. Jefferson picked me up and almost carried me in the crowd. But we weren’t going with the crowd out the front door. I think I may have laughed because I didn’t remember seeing a fire marshal anyway.

     I could see we were descending a dark old staircase. My eyes opened quickly and would shut again, as though closed was their normal state and opening them was blinking. Jefferson had his arms around me. His musty hand was on my mouth to keep me from screaming. As if I had the energy to. Down the Rabbit Hole we went.

Saturday, October 29th, 1983

When is a Queen not a Queen?

When she’s overpowered,

Vulnerable or a coward,

She will step back and instead

She without magic will be the head.

And so to depose her,

The Queen surely knows that

The best gift is one that is seen.

     This poem was bound with the other poem about the directions to my safe haven. They’re both part of a compilation of riddles I found shortly after arriving here. They act as an instruction manual to surviving the curse until or if the savior arrives. Until yesterday, I didn’t know what it meant.

     It is only through dumb luck that I’m able to write in you now. For most of a day, I have been Regina Mills of Storybrooke, as though I wasn’t the one who cast the spell and was trapped in a miserable life like everyone else here.

     It began with my visit to Dr. Hopper’s yesterday morning. I promised Graham I would go to help remember my attacker. The doctor’s red hair and raspy voice weren’t things I recognized, but he did bring up my conscience once or twice. That’s when I knew the curse had brought that pesky cricket spy in human form. He had a fine Dalmatian there named Pongo, who was friendly enough.

     I gave him the details of what happened: I was attacked in the rain by a man who yelled questions at me until he ran off after Graham fired his gun. Dr. Hopper suggested hypnotizing me to help me remember. I didn’t want to do that. In such a vulnerable state, I might reveal more than what pertained to this situation. But the doctor assured me this was safe and controlled, so I reluctantly agreed.

     Drifting into the trance was easier than I expected. I felt awake, just very relaxed. Dr. Hopper spoke and I willingly responded to him.

     “We’re going back to the night you were attacked. You’ve finished work. What’s happening?”

     “I’m leaving my office. It’s night time. It’s starting to rain. I’ve got a long walk back to my—“

     I was back on the pavement. Rain was pounding my face in total darkness. His hands fit perfectly around my neck and they’d only ease with the chance for me to answer his questions. I grabbed onto his hands to try to pull them away.

     “Is he there?”

     I tried to nod yes.

     “Can you see him?”

      “No!” It’s hard to form sentences and get your point across when you’re being strangled. I could only speak after I fought to take in air. “Dark! Rain right—in my—eyes!”

     “Focus on what else you can sense: his voice? His hands?”

     “His voice—is young!” I was excited to be able to remember that. “His hands—smell!”

     “What do they smell like?”

     I shook my head. I couldn’t recognize it, but it was a familiar scent from back home; musty and almost like medicine. But I didn’t want to look anymore. My attacker was strangling me longer this time.    

     “Graham—“

    “No, Graham’s not going to fire his gun until you see who’s attacking you.”

     “I—can’t—see anything!”

     “I want you to try to see. Look through the rain. What does his hair look like?”

     All I could do was shake my head and try to pull his hands away from my neck. The pressure of his hands was too much. The rain in my eyes was too much. The darkness was too much. The gunshot I’d heard before wasn’t coming this time. I couldn’t make any sounds anymore. My grip on his hands began to fail.

     “You’re not there anymore!” Dr. Hopper’s voice broke in and the rain stopped. “His hands are leaving your throat! Do you feel them leaving your throat?”

     I took in the largest breath of air I could and followed it up with a few good coughs until I could breathe steady again. Once I nodded approval, Dr. Hopper spoke again in his soothing voice.

     “That moment’s over now. All that’s here now are Regina Mills and the sound of my voice.  I’m going to count to three. When I reach three, I’m going to snap my fingers and you’ll be back in my office. One, two, three.”

     SNAP!

     It felt like a dream. Everything had a sort of bright haze about it. I was in my body, but I was not in control. There was another presence with me who was now in charge. This was the Regina of Storybrooke who everyone knew.

     Dr. Hopper asked if I was all right. I tried to say no, but what I wanted to do didn’t matter. Regina Mills said she was fine. I tried to scream and yell that she was wrong, but nothing happened. Regina Mills of Storybrooke remained composed and thanked Dr. Hopper for trying to help. He offered Regina another session, but she declined and left.

     Regina walked us down the street. I tried yelling some more. I asked her if she knew I was here. If she knew I was in here, could she give me a sign or say something? She did nothing. I tried this for quite a while until I was convinced she had no idea who I was.

     But I knew who she was. Glimpses of her memories were shown to me. The only memories we shared were of things I’d done in this town since the curse began, only through her perspective. This Regina knew Dr. Hopper and could remember when he first opened his practice in town. She knew his dog, Pongo, too. She didn’t like Pongo—or any animals—very much.

     We went to see Graham at the station, who she’d known since her father introduced them shortly after he was promoted to sheriff. They’d been seeing each other secretly since she was in college, because they both knew her father would have never approved. He took us to the courthouse. It was already time for the trial over Regina’s car hitting who I knew to be Charming, but she knew to be someone else. We saw the DA, Albert Spencer, who Regina had known since she was a little girl. Albert told her he was the prosecution, but assured her this would be quick and he was only doing his job. Regina was sociable with the man and insisted she didn’t recognize the man she hit. But she did.

     She represented herself before the judge. In the audience was Kathryn, her best friend since they were sorority sisters. Regina chose not to look at her while she told the judge Katherine’s husband ran out in front of her car in an attempt to kill himself. Of course, she omitted David Nolan’s name and said she didn’t recognize him at all. Few people would have, after all. He’d only barely come home with his regiment from overseas. His looks had matured so much since he’d been gone and he hadn’t left his house since he came home. Kathryn said they’d been arguing for days and he wasn’t himself. Regina left all of this out and managed to convince the judge that she was innocent. Albert’s purposefully feeble attempts at prosecution and lack of evidence made it a quick trial. The charge against Regina was dropped and her license was intact.

      Kathryn wanted to celebrate, so the two of them planned to go to the Rabbit Hole for a drink. But first they stopped at Regina’s house to freshen up.

     Regina’s house had a different feel now. This was not originally her house. The living room was the hardest to be in. Over a year ago, Regina walked into her father’s house to find her father dead on the floor with a gunshot wound to the heart. His blood was everywhere. Standing beside his body was a woman holding the gun, covered in his blood and crying so hard no sound came from her. She was in the asylum now. The carpet had been replaced. No one could replace her father.

     “You’ve done so well.” Kathryn gave her a supportive hug. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

     We left. Regina wore the same coat she wore on Thursday when she went to visit her father’s grave. I saw a quick vision of what she remembered about wearing that coat last. My safe haven conveniently not part of it.

     The Rabbit Hole is the busiest bar in town. It’s also the only bar in town. It was filled with two kinds of people: those who didn’t like Regina and those who tolerated Regina because of Kathryn. She was very aware of this and it did bother her, but when you’re the richest woman in town, few people give you trouble.

     Regina offered to pay for their drinks once the bartender brought them over. She pulled out the change from her coat pocket and found a coin with purple swirling smoke and the face of a man smiling at her. He looked alive. Regina shrieked and her change went all over the floor.

     Just like that, I was back! The Regina of Storybrooke vanished and I got off my stool and searched frantically for Daniel’s coin. I found it before anyone else saw what it was. I came back up with the remainder of my normal change for the bartender.

     “What was that about?” Kathryn laughed and had clearly not seen what was so special about that coin.

     “I thought I saw a spider.” My coin went back in my pocket.

     Kathryn shrieked and giggled before raising her wine glass to toast.

  “You defended yourself today without any help.” She neglected Mr. Spencer’s deliberately weak prosecution. “Cheers to finding out more about yourself.”

     “I’ll toast to that.” I clinked my wine glass to hers and drank to the truth of her words.

Thursday, October 27th, 1983

     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 have a friend here. Apart from Graham and Sidney, who are loyal to me for other reasons, Kathryn comes across as someone who genuinely cares about me. Shortly after Graham and I parted ways, she ran down the street and hugged me. She immediately asked how I was doing and apologized for not seeing me after the attack.

     “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.

Tuesday, October 25th, 1983

     Graham, my huntsman’s name here, told me I should go to the hospital to check for any more serious injuries. I decided I was fine and had him drive me home once we were done at the sheriff’s station. But this morning I woke up aching everywhere. Graham arrived in the morning to check on me and drove me to Storybrooke General Hospital.

     My attacker got away, but I know he can’t run far. The three men I mentioned in my last passage all make the most sense, but each one raises questions. First, anyone other than me retaining their memories from our home is a threat that needs to be contained. Charming would be the worst. I can just imagine him trying to bring back everyone’s memories with speeches about love and then finding a weapon for everyone. I don’t think it would work without the “savior” breaking the curse, so it might not be as bad as that. But he may try to usurp my authority.

     Jefferson is a likely candidate. He certainly has motive after I stranded him in Wonderland. But how was he able to come to Storybrooke from Wonderland? As far as I’m aware, my curse only spread across my land. But then, that’s why I had that pirate kill my mother while she was still in Wonderland, herself. She would have found a way to come here even if the curse didn’t reach that far. Was Jefferson able to come back to the forest in time and I didn’t know about it? The curse may have spread further than I realized.

     I told Rumpelstiltskin that Belle was dead, but it’s possible he could have found out I was keeping her. Back home he cared about his power more than her, or else my trick would have worked. But here, where there is no magic, would that matter to him?

     My visit to the hospital was illuminating. Graham had left me there so he could find my attacker. I didn’t have to wait long to see Dr. Whale, though I must say I was surprised to see him. If Doctor Frankenstein could be the head surgeon of Storybrooke General, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Jefferson here after all. The doctor was accompanied by a pretty young nurse with a clipboard.

     “I really wish you’d come sooner than this.” He held a shiny tube up to my eyes while I sat on his table. A light brighter than any candle flame burst forth, practically blinding me. “Have you been dizzy? The sheriff told me what happened. Did you hit your head?”

     “No. I don’t think so.”

     He checked me over and said I was lucky that nothing worse had happened to me than scrapes and bruising. He took the clipboard and jotted some notes down before handing it back to the nurse and excusing her. His gaze fell onto the nurse’s skirt as she left before he turned back to me.

     “I’m glad you’re here, actually.” His air was much more pleasant in this life. He certainly smiled more. “We were scheduled to meet in a few weeks to discuss upcoming events for the hospital, but I was hoping you and I could discuss the issues before then.” He moved in closer than was necessary for a doctor to speak with a patient. “We could brainstorm ideas over drinks? I’d like to start a volunteer program. Maybe you could volunteer?”

     “I think a program like that is a great idea.” I inched away from him and off the table. “My schedule is already so busy as mayor, however, that I don’t think I’ll have time for volunteering, let alone drinks. We’ll meet in public as arranged and announce your program. I’m sure a gentleman with your reputation will have no problem finding volunteers.”

     His smile let me know he understood me. And with that, his examination was over.

     After that, I stopped in the cafeteria for lunch. I’d only eaten about half of my bland food when a nurse approached me. She was paler than the rest of the staff here, as though she didn’t see the sun often. Her hair and face were done up more sternly than the rest of them as well. Her smile at me did nothing to soften her features. I can’t say that I immediately recognized her.

     “I didn’t expect to see you here at this time of day.” She said.

     “I had to come in for a check-up.”

     “Would you like to check up on her?”

     I had to get used to everyone knowing more about me than I did.

     “Of course.” I smiled back at her. No one paid us any attention as we left the cafeteria, or when we made our way down below the main floor of the hospital to a darker area called the mental care ward. It reminded me more of a dungeon as the nurse led me down a row of cells and finally stopped me at one door. She pulled a key from the pocket of her stiff uniform and used it to open the door. I was reluctant to go inside with her, but she looked back at me and smiled.

     “She’s a lot more docile now.” She said encouragingly. “The medication we have her on doesn’t allow her to want to do much.”

     I walked into the cell. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture. A single bed sat against the wall. Next to the only window sat a single woman. She hardly lifted her head to look at me.

     Belle.

     “How long has she been here now?” I knew I was smiling. My giddiness couldn’t be suppressed.

     “It’s probably been a year now since you found her in your house with a gun.” She folded her arms and sounded as though she was reminiscing. “This is really the best place for her. Even her father knew it. Sensitive creatures like her can be swayed to do the wrong thing. But now she can’t get to anyone and no one can get to her.”

     It was a great way to end a day at the hospital. Graham picked me up about an hour later. Still no word on my attacker, but we did agree that he would teach me how to drive tomorrow. Having Graham drive me around is certainly nice, but I need to be able to get around and do some investigating of my own. 

Monday, October 24th, 1983

Branches give way to the bridge beneath.

 The Queen will find the distance brief.

Past those who could not join her here,

Twin stags will let her know she’s near.

Push the edge until it shifts.

Seventeen steps lead to five gifts.

A home away from home,

Away from Home.

       This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. And I don’t mean the cooking.

     Somewhere in this land, I have a safe haven. It isn’t in my house. I know this because after dinner I searched the entire thing until well into the morning. The above poem is my guide to finding it and there is nothing figuratively or literally in my new home that resembles anything in it. I need to find my safe haven before anyone else accidentally stumbles into it. It contains all the valuables I was able to bring over, including five pieces of magic for emergencies.

     I read the story in Sidney’s paper one more time and read that I would be sworn in as mayor today. I walked to town hall as fast as I could and when I arrived there was Sidney as well as some others who I recognized. Some of them were holding these strange boxes up in front of their faces and bright flashes of light would shoot forth from them. I was too stunned the first time it happened, and the only reason I didn’t defend myself was that everyone seemed to think this was normal. Sidney made some remark about what a great picture this would make, but I remained cautious. At this point in the day I wasn’t carrying much in the way of a weapon. This land doesn’t possess magic like the old one, but it’s clear that it has its own that I must learn immediately in order to fit in.

     There was a swearing-in ceremony followed by some questions by the group. They all seemed to be carefully rehearsed as though to prevent anyone from asking anything controversial, which I liked. One person asked a question I wasn’t prepared for.

     “How does it feel to replace your father as mayor?”

     Why did my father have to even be mentioned in this world? Killing him was supposed to harden my heart so I could carry out the curse, but bringing him up only reminded me of what I did. I had to tell myself that he was allowing me to carry out my plan of ruining Snow White and those who hurt me, and this was the proof.

     “It is bittersweet.” I succeeded in closing my heart again. “I will do my best to serve Storybrooke as well as he did.”

     My day after that was long. The office where I will run this town is an ample space decorated to my liking. One thing I’ve noticed about the few places I’ve been is there are hints of the enchanted forest everywhere. It’s as though we took the old land with us. My assistants are guards and maids from my castle. They informed me of future appointments with local business owners, meetings with the school board and the many appearances I’ll have to make just for this month. Finally the end of the day came and I prepared for my walk home.

     The night comes quickly this time of year. Already it’s cold here, or maybe it always is? Everyone but me was dressed for rain and they all left well before me. I had stayed behind in order to search for my safe haven. I don’t know what I was thinking; why would it be somewhere anyone could find it? When I finally left, there were hardly any lights on around me and the rain was coming down heavily. I’d only walked a few feet from the building when I was slammed to the ground and a pair of hands placed around my neck. I tried to breathe, but he kept shouting at me.

     “WHERE IS SHE?! WHERE ARE WE?! HOW DID YOU BRING ME HERE?”

     I couldn’t answer him. Not with his hands closing off my windpipe. I didn’t even know who he was, at that moment. I tried pushing him away while cursing myself for not being smarter. To do all of that hard work, make all of that sacrifice and come so far all to be strangled to death on the second day because of a madman?

     BANG! The loudest sound I’ve ever heard tore through the air. It made my attacker let go of me and run as fast as he could. When I’d finally caught my breath, familiar hands were helping me sit up.

     “Just try to focus on your breathing.” My huntsman encouraged me. He wasn’t wearing much in the way of armor, just some simple uniform made of fabric that was getting wet and clingy in all the rain. I did as he said and soon I was well enough to stand.

     “Why are you letting him get away?” I demanded.

     “My deputy is going after him.” His pants were very tight, which I’d seen some of the other men wear. Was this normal? “My first priority is your safety.”

     “Then you’ve succeeded.”

     He drove me home in his carriage. I sat in the front with him and wanted to keep my eyes closed as much as I could. But I willed myself to watch what he did.

     “Why did you walk to work?”

     “I like walking.”

     “It’s a shame to let that nice new car of yours just sit in the garage. Is this because your driver retired?”

     I didn’t say anything, but I was relieved to know I wasn’t supposed to know how to drive a “car” in this land.

     “Why don’t you let me teach you?” He insisted more than offered. “I would feel better knowing you weren’t walking home in the middle of the night.”

     I agreed. Before he took me home, we went to the sheriff’s station so he could ask me questions about my attacker. I couldn’t tell him the whole truth, of course. “I suspect someone didn’t have their memory wiped” wouldn’t have made much sense to him. It could have been a number of men, but there were only three I was concerned about: Rumpelstiltskin, Jefferson and Charming.