Rapunzel Untangled

  Voices filtered in from the next room. She felt as if she were listening to them from underwater. One voice belonged to her mother—she could recognize that. But the other was unfamiliar, deep and masculine.

  “Why isn’t she getting better?” she heard her mother ask urgently.

  There was a pause, then the man spoke again, his voice much closer as if he’d moved closer to her doorway. She slammed her eyes closed. “You have to understand that she hasn’t built up a normal immunity, being confined as she is. Flu and strep throat aren’t easy for even a normal person’s body to deal with.”

  “How did she get sick?” her mother hissed.

  Again silence, broken only by rustling. She opened the smallest slit and saw the man holding his arms away from himself, as if to indicate his confusion.

  Her mother’s head came into view, and she closed her eyes again. When she spoke, her voice was a harsh whisper. “She cannot die. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, I do, but—”

  “There is no but, Henreich. Much rides on Rapunzel. If she dies, you know the consequences.”

  The man sighed, and a memory niggled at Rapunzel’s memory. The name Henreich struck a note with her. Who was he?

  “I’m well aware, Gothel. But perhaps it’s time to reconsider your actions. It seems very unfair and potentially dangerous to keep the girl locked up—”

  “You dare to question me?” Rapunzel flinched at the venom in her mother’s voice. She dared to peek again and saw the man twisting his hands. “You have much to protect yourself by keeping the secret, Henreich. Or do you need to be reminded?”

  Secret? What secret? Rapunzel felt nauseated, her stomach clenching at the words.

  “Listen, Gothel, I appreciate what you’ve done. But now, perhaps—”

  “You listen to me, Henreich. You will lose everything; your sons will lose everything. Do you think they will allow you to continue being a doctor?” Rapunzel suddenly had a vague recollection of him from when she was a young girl. He’d come once when she was young, but the memory was too unclear. “How is your family going to survive with you in prison? What will they think of you then?”

  Henreich’s shoulders drooped, and Rapunzel wondered what her mother was talking about. “It just doesn’t feel right to keep her here, Gothel,” he muttered so low that Rapunzel wasn’t even sure she heard right.

  “But?” Gothel prompted.

  “But I’ll keep your secret,” he said.

  “Our secret,” she reiterated.

  The man turned toward Rapunzel, and she quickly slid her eyes closed. She heard him move across the room and felt his hand on her forehead.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Rapunzel felt the words were for her. “Her fever has broken,” he said more loudly to Gothel. Soon her mother’s hands were on her, and Rapunzel slowly opened her eyes.

  “Rapunzel, are you better?” her mother said urgently.

  “It will take some time,” Henreich said. Rapunzel’s eyes moved to his. Sorrow reflected in his face, and something like guilt. “Don’t worry,” he said to her, “We’re going to get you feeling better. You just relax and take it easy, give your body time to recover.”

  Rapunzel nodded and let her eyes drift closed again. She wanted to replay their conversation in her mind again, as if she were missing some key that she couldn’t quite grasp. But lethargy overtook her, and she was unable to fight against it.

  chapter

  *.*

  23

  .**

  Several days crawled by before Rapunzel felt strong enough to get out of bed unassisted. Henreich had come the day before and removed the tubing from her arm, explaining the IV and its function. She shuddered with horror as she watched the long tube sliding out of her, where it had been embedded beneath her skin.

  She wanted to shower. Her mother or Henreich had been by her side constantly, and this was the first time she’d been left alone. Gratefully, shakily, she rose from the bed and slowly made her way to the bathroom. She avoided looking at herself in the mirror, having seen how awful she looked the last few times she’d been in here with her mother’s help.

  She dropped her pajamas from her sunken body and climbed into the shower, reveling in the feel of the warm water as it sluiced across her body. She stood for long minutes, letting it soothe her before beginning the arduous process of washing her hair.

  Half an hour later she emerged, exhausted but refreshed. She toweled dry and had just finished pulling on gym shorts and a T-shirt when her mother returned.

  “Rapunzel! What are you doing out of bed?” Her mother hurried over, fluttering around her.

  “I needed to shower,” she said. “I feel much better now.”

  “You must get back to bed, right away.”

  “Can’t I just sit on the couch for a while?”

  “No.” Her mother’s tone didn’t allow for argument. “You must rest and get better. You need to lie down. Cook will soon bring your dinner.”

  Rapunzel allowed herself to be led back to the bed. Her dinner came, which her mother stayed to watch her eat. She didn’t have much of an appetite and wasn’t able to eat much, but her mother seemed pleased and left her alone to sleep.

  But Rapunzel didn’t want to sleep. She was bored. She was restless.

  She wanted to talk to Fane.

  An hour later her mother returned and Rapunzel pretended to be asleep. Satisfied, her mother left and Rapunzel, betting her mother wouldn’t return again, rose from her bed and made her way to her computer.

  It took a few minutes for it to boot up. When it did, she quickly connected to the Internet and signed in to Facebook. He wasn’t online.

  She saw that she had messages and clicked on the little icon. Message after message from Fane appeared. They began with a lighthearted tone and quickly became worried.

  Hey, Rapunzel, just wanted to say how much fun I had at the Halloween party with you. You were definitely the hottest girl there. (Yes, I can see you blushing.)

  Just wondering where you’ve been? Guess we keep missing one another. Maybe we should set a time. Tell me when you can be on, and I’ll be here. Anything for the hot girl.

  Are you avoiding me? Cuz I know where you live, hahaha. Okay, sorry, that was a little creepy. But seriously, where are you?

  Hey, are you mad at me? If I did something wrong, please tell me. I miss you.

  Okay. Now I’m seriously worried. Did something happen to you? I kinda think if you are mad at me, you’d tell me. So now I think something might be wrong with you. Please, please, even if you hate me, let me know you’re okay.

  If you hate me and never want to speak to me again, that’s okay. Just tell me so I know you’re fine.

  Rapunzel, I am seriously going to come break into your house to see what’s going on.

  Rapunzel counted. There were over thirty messages all together. She scrolled back up to the top one, surprised to see it had been ten days. Ten days? How in the world had so much time passed? She felt like it had only been a few.

  Suddenly, her Skype window popped up, flashing to show Fane was calling her. She quickly answered with video, then regretted it when her reflection in the tiny window showed her hair plastered to one side of her face and her pale, drawn visage.

  Fane leaned toward the camera, and in spite of the not-quite-clear quality, she could see the worry etched on his face.

  “Rapunzel? Is that you? Are you okay?”

  She smiled, drinking in the sight of him. “Yes, I am now.”

  “Now? What does that mean?”

  “I wasn’t feeling well for a few . . . for a while. I was sick. But I’m better now.”

  Fane squinted his eyes a bit, examining her face. The worry never left his.

  “Are you sure you’re better? You look really . . . tired.”

  “I am,” she said. “But I do feel much better.”

  Fane leaned back in his chair, twisting back and forth, arms crossed, chewing on one
thumb. Finally he sat forward again. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

  “What’s your fault?” she asked.

  “You. Being sick. What if . . . what if you had, you know, died or something?”

  Rapunzel couldn’t deny that she had thought she was dying, more than once. So she didn’t answer that particular question.

  “No, Fane. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have lifted the mask.”

  “I shouldn’t have taken you to begin with,” he said.

  “Don’t say that,” she said. “You’re the only fun I’ve had in my whole life. Even if I died tomorrow, I’d be okay with that. Fane, do you understand what my life is?”

  He didn’t answer, just looked down.

  “I sit inside these walls, all day, every day, doing nothing, seeing no one, talking to a bird that lives in the tree outside my window. I don’t want to live like that anymore.”

  His eyes came back to her. “What do you mean?”

  She looked around, as if her mother might have snuck in and would overhear her. “When I was sick, I overheard my mother and my doctor speaking. It was really weird.”

  “Yeah? What’d they say?”

  “I can’t remember everything,” she said with a sigh. “I was very sick and so I’m honestly not sure how much I really heard and how much I imagined. But he was telling her I shouldn’t be kept inside so much. He said something about it being bad for the community.”

  “Bad for the community?” Fane’s brows clashed together as his mouth tightened.

  “I know. It doesn’t make sense to me, either. But she told him that if he told her secret, he couldn’t be a doctor any longer, and that his family would be ashamed of him.” Tears pricked Rapunzel’s eyes. She wasn’t sure what it all meant. Somehow it felt deeply wrong that her mother had a secret involving her—a secret bad enough that a man would no longer be a doctor, that he would go to prison if revealed. She’d gotten to know Dr. Henreich as she recovered a bit, and found him to be kind and caring.

  “What can I do to help?” Fane asked.

  Rapunzel swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d known he would do whatever he could.

  “I don’t really know,” she said. “Can you ask around, see if anyone outside has heard anything? Find out what I have to do with the community?”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  “And come see me soon,” she said quietly.

  Fane cleared his throat. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  She smiled at him. “I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever had.”

  “But what if I make you—”

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He stopped speaking at her plea. Then he nodded. “Okay. I’ll try to come as soon as I can.”

  Rapunzel rolled her shoulders. She was still somewhat sore. “I’m really tired. I think I should go lie down.”

  “Definitely,” he said. “You should definitely go lie down.”

  “Fane?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you were on. Thanks for worrying so much about me.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice full of emotion.

  chapter

  *.*

  24

  .**

  Each day Rapunzel felt stronger until she finally finished taking the pills, antibiotics Dr. Henreich called them. She managed to be out of bed for longer periods of time, and soon her mother had reduced her visits to twice a day. This gave Rapunzel time to try to figure things out surfing the Internet.

  She began by Googling SCIDs. She read about David Vetter, known as Bubble Boy, and was grateful she didn’t have to live in the same kind of sterile environment he did. Although he at least was able to have some social contact with others instead of being shut up in a tower. She didn’t know which was worse.

  She was excited when she read about a vaccine or possible cure, then became disheartened when she read it was only for infants. She read about the possibility of bone marrow transplant or gene therapy but again realized these worked better on young children.

  There were many sites relating to SCIDs, though most of them repeated the same information. The only hope she seemed to have was a site that talked about possible false negatives. She wondered if that were a possibility in her case, though her recent illness seemed to negate that. She could find a lot of information about causes and symptoms of her disease, but nothing definitive that said if she’d be safe going out in the general public if she were careful.

  She thought of asking her mother about it, but knew there was no chance based on her recent illness. She remembered when she was six and first asked if she could go outside and play.

  “No, Rapunzel, and you must never ask again.” Her mother’s tone was firm.

  “But why?” her young self asked.

  “Because, my dear, it was prophesied that you must live to save us. You must live, and you must never cut your hair.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, Rapunzel,” she said, voice full of irritation, “someone foretold of you before you were born. He told me I would have a child with golden hair who would be the savior of . . . humanity. He told me that you would live to save everything, and that your long, golden hair would be the beacon to light the way.”

  Rapunzel had no idea what any of those words meant, but they sounded ominous. And her mother had repeated the story to her over and over through the years until she’d memorized it. Confused how she was supposed to save humanity from her tower, she didn’t want to cause the downfall of the world with her selfishness.

  She shut the computer off—no chance of Fane being on during school hours—and twisted a strand of hair around her finger. She looked down at it, briefly considered cutting it, not for the first time, and knew she never would. She couldn’t take the risk.

  She walked over to her window with a handful of birdseed and saw Angel huddled on the tree branch. Gray and overcast, the skies promised snow soon. She didn’t think the little bird would still be around, weathering the cold.

  She pushed the window open, breathing in the fresh, clean, cool air. Smelling the outdoors was such a relief. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it. Angel flew over and looked up at her, cocking her head as if to ask where she’d been.

  “I’ve been sick, little one,” she said. Angel seemed satisfied and pecked a seed from her palm. “I’m better now.”

  Angel ruffled her feathers and picked up another seed.

  “I wish you could talk to me,” she said. “I wish you could answer my questions. I wish someone could.” As she said the words, Dr. Henreich flashed into her mind. She wondered if he would answer her questions or if he’d be as closed about everything as her mother.

  “Do you think the good doctor would answer my questions?” she asked the bluebird. Angel fluttered her wings, then settled back down for more seed. “I don’t know how to interpret that.” Angel looked up at her, blinked, then bobbed for another bite. “Well, I suppose if I don’t ask I’ll never know, right?” Angel chirped and snatched one more peck of seed before flitting off to her perch.

  Rapunzel released the rest of the seeds, leaning on her elbows and watching her friend. “You should go soon. It’s going to snow before long. You don’t want to get caught in the cold.”

  As if her words were the impetus needed, Angel flew off to the south. Rapunzel watched her go, saddened that she might not see her little friend again until the spring. She took a few more deep breaths and then closed her window.

  She flopped down on her sofa, looking around at the area that had been her entire life—until Fane, that was. She thought again about the prophecy. Who had told her mother of her destiny? Rapunzel stood, intending to go back to her computer to research prophecies to see what she could discover. As she entered the cove where her computer was, she heard the door to her room open. She turned guiltily, as if she’d been about to do something wrong.

  “Are you feeling better?”
her mother asked with far too much concern in her voice. Rapunzel raised a brow at the false tone until she saw Dr. Henreich follow her mother in.

  “Yes, I am,” she said.

  “I’d like to check you over, Rapunzel,” he said. “I want to do a few tests just to make sure that we’re not going to have a relapse.”

  Gothel’s eyes widened. “Is that a possibility, Henreich?” she asked, the worry in her voice genuine now.

  “Of course it is,” he answered. “Though it’s unlikely. However, due to the . . . unusual circumstances of Rapunzel’s . . . uh, disease, we should make sure.”

  Rapunzel wondered at his halting speech.

  She led the way into her room, followed by the other two. Dr. Henreich went through a series of procedures, listening to her heart and lungs, looking in her throat, eyes, and ears.

  “I’d like to take some blood to run a few tests as well,” he told her. She nodded, not sure how he was going to get the blood from her. When he pulled out the needle, she pulled back in fear.

  “It’s just a small poke,” he reassured her.

  Rapunzel looked toward her mother, opening her mouth to ask her to hold her hand. But her mother stared at the needle as if it were a viper.

  “I’ll just be out here,” she muttered, quickly exiting the room.

  Rapunzel’s attention drew back to Henreich as he tied what looked like a large rubber band around her upper arm.

  “It might help if you look away.”

  She nodded, took a bracing breath, and turned toward the door her mother had disappeared through. She felt a pinprick against the inside of her elbow, and a few seconds later the rubber band released. She looked at her arm and saw the blood flowing into the little vial that he had pushed onto the needle.

  “That didn’t hurt,” she said, her tone reflecting her surprise.