Rapunzel Untangled

  “I’m surprised your mom left you, you know, with Thanksgiving and all.”

  “What?” Fane’s strange comment took her mind off the number of rooms.

  “Thursday. It’s Thanksgiving.”

  Rapunzel hadn’t realized it was Thanksgiving already. But he was right. Hurt wound its way around her heart at the fact that her mother left with the holiday this week. They’d spent every Thanksgiving together. She hadn’t even left Rapunzel a turkey.

  “I didn’t realize it was . . .” Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back, refusing to cry in front of Fane. It seemed he saw anyway and stepped closer.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  “It isn’t you,” she said, smiling through her tears. “It’s her. She’s the one who left. Mother always made such a big deal about the holiday, telling me it was the most important one because we have so much to be thankful for.”

  Fane put his arms around her, and she tried not to feel sorry for herself as she leaned into him.

  “You should come to my house,” he said.

  “What?” she sniffled.

  “On Thursday. Come to my house for Thanksgiving.”

  “I can’t do that,” she said. “I don’t know your family.”

  “And you never will if you don’t meet them,” he said. “We have some relatives coming over, but it’ll be fun.”

  “I doubt your family will want me to come. You haven’t even asked them.”

  “I guarantee my mom will love to have you there. I know her well enough to know that. She’s all about having big groups of people over for holidays.”

  “Big groups?” Rapunzel asked, her voice quivering.

  “Smaller than the group at the Halloween party.” Then, as if remembering what came after the party, he said, “Maybe that’s not such a good idea. I mean, you got sick after that one. I don’t want you to get sick again.”

  “Fane,” she said. Her shoulders dropped, and she smiled at him. “I don’t plan to live the rest of my life inside my tower.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’ve thought a lot about it. Do I want to stay closed up in my room for the next fifty or sixty years just to stay healthy? Or do I want to live? I’d rather die in two years than live a hundred inside that tower.”

  “Rapunzel, don’t say that. You can’t—”

  “Of course I can,” she interrupted. “I just can’t yet. I can’t make my own choices until I’m eighteen, which is in seven months. Maybe my mother will be angry and kick me out after that. It’s incredibly selfish of me, I know, but—”

  “Wait, why is it selfish?”

  Rapunzel chewed a nail as she debated telling Fane. There was a good chance he’d never return if she told him. There was also a good chance he’d stay. After all, he knew about the rest of the insanity, and yet here he was.

  “Let’s go back to my room,” she said. “I’ll make us lunch and then I’ll tell you a story.”

  “What kind of story?”

  “Do you believe in prophecies?” she asked. He didn’t answer but followed her as she led the way back to her room.

  chapter

  *.*

  29

  .**

  Fane listened without interruption while she related the whole bizarre tale her mother had told her. It sounded even stranger to her as she said it aloud. Still, she told it to him exactly as it had been related to her.

  When she finished, he sat quietly. She became nervous, wondering if he just realized what a crazy situation he found himself in. Crazier than he’d even suspected.

  “So, what do you think?” she asked.

  “I think the Twilight Zone exists.”

  “Twilight Zone?” Rapunzel asked. “As in, the books?”

  That brought a small smile from Fane. “No, not the books. No sparkly vampires in this story. At least, not yet.”

  Rapunzel sighed. “I was raised believing her story, though I didn’t have all the details of why she believes it. I just accepted it as truth. Now . . . I don’t know. It seems a little . . . farfetched.”

  Fane shrugged. “I can’t really say one way or another. I’ve never talked to a psychic or prophet or whatever before, never really even considered them and whether they’re real or not. Maybe we should research them. Or find one and go see her. Or him.”

  Rapunzel turned worried eyes on him. “What if they confirm what she told me?”

  “What if they don’t?”

  “Yes,” Rapunzel said. “What if they don’t? That means my whole life has been a lie. I don’t know which would be worse.”

  Fane nodded. “I wish there were an easy answer for you, Rapunzel. It seems like the more we discover, the less we know.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “I wish I could just ask my mother, but if I do, she’ll be angry with me.”

  “Well then, we’ll find out what we can, so that when you do ask you at least know the right things to ask.”

  Tears stung Rapunzel’s eyes again. She didn’t know what was wrong with her that she felt like crying so much as of late.

  Fane jerked at the tears. “Uh . . . are you . . . I mean, did I say something wrong? Did I make you cry?”

  Rapunzel laughed through the tears. “No. I don’t know why I keep crying. It’s definitely not you. At least, not in a bad way. What would I do without you, Fane? If I hadn’t met you, I’d probably still just be sitting here in my tower, content with my non-life.”

  “I don’t know if I should apologize, or . . .”

  “Don’t apologize. Please. I’m grateful.”

  * * *

  By the time Thursday came, Fane and Rapunzel had explored a lot more of the house. Fane didn’t have school because of the holiday, and Rapunzel caught up on her homework online quickly with his help. They hadn’t been able to open the trunk.

  Fane had brought her a screwdriver and a flat, stiff plastic ruler the thickness of a paper and showed her how to remove her door handle, and how to slide the ruler into the space between the door and jamb to lift the latch.

  “See? It’s pretty easy. Now you try it. Wait, let me go out and re-latch it.”

  She could now get out of her room anytime she wanted. She felt much safer. Being locked in scared her with the burnt room of sixes two floors below.

  Rapunzel rolled out of bed on Thursday with nerves thrumming. She wasn’t worried about whether she might get sick again. She worried about how Fane’s family would perceive her. She had no idea how to behave in a social setting. The Halloween party had been fairly easy because with the loud music, there wasn’t much required of her. She had a feeling there wouldn’t be any music blaring today.

  She decided to wear the only skirt she owned. She’d worn it once when she’d first gotten it. She didn’t have a reason to have gotten it, just a desire to have one. However, it was really inconvenient to wear for just hanging around her rooms. Since she didn’t have to go down a ladder today, she figured she may as well wear it.

  She met Fane downstairs. It felt different waiting for him in the sizable living room rather than hiding in her tower. It felt as if she were starring in one of the movies she’d been watching where the hero picked up the heroine for an actual date—something she’d never experienced. She supposed the Halloween party might be considered a date, but still. Something about not having to climb down the ladder made it feel more like a real date. Of course, they’d still have to make their way through the dark tunnel. It didn’t frighten her anymore since they’d been through it a few times. Now it just felt . . . familiar.

  “Wow.”

  Rapunzel startled and turned at the sound of Fane’s voice behind her. She hadn’t heard him enter. His eyes swept her hair, where she had wrapped a braid crown-style, then used a few thin braids to lead from the crown to the thick braid that ran down her back. His gaze then dropped to her powder blue sweater atop the white skirt. She wore white tennis shoes. She knew that probably wasn’t
what fashion dictated she wear with a skirt, but she didn’t have anything other than slippers and flip-flops. The cold weather negated the intelligence of wearing flip-flops. His eyes traveled back up her hair, and Rapunzel felt her face flush at the look in his eyes.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, his words heavy with feeling and a bit awed. His sincerity felt sweeter than when he teased her about her “hotness.” She wanted to laugh and brush his words off as she usually did but couldn’t this time.

  Fane stepped forward and took her hand in his, gaze locked on hers. He brought her hand to his lips, the gesture somehow more intimate than all the times he’d done so before—more intimate than the kisses they’d shared.

  “I kinda think we should stay here today so I don’t have to share you with anyone,” he said, grinning. But his words carried a serious undertone.

  “Isn’t this an important holiday for families?”

  Fane grunted. “Yeah, I guess my mom would never forgive me if I didn’t show up.”

  “Really?” Rapunzel was fascinated. His mother would forever hold a grudge for missing one day with the family?

  Fane laughed. “No, not really. She’d be mad, but she’d get over it. However, I don’t want to hurt her, so we’ll go. Where’s your mask?”

  Rapunzel shrugged. “I don’t want to wear it.”

  Worry filled Fane’s eyes. “But, Rapunzel, you’ve been sick. What if—”

  “Please, Fane, I don’t want to meet your family that way. I want to be . . . normal.”

  “Normal isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he muttered. Yet in his eyes was a sort of understanding. He didn’t argue further.

  He helped her put her mother’s old coat on, then led her by the hand through the house and tunnel, walking slowly through the greenhouse to allow her time to admire and touch all of the flowers and plants. Outside the air was crisp and chill with low dark clouds.

  The car ride was still a bit terrifying, even with her hand held firmly in Fane’s. He pulled into the driveway of a house similar to the one they’d gone to on Halloween. Only instead of being populated with carved pumpkins, there were a few un-carved pumpkins on the front porch atop a hay bale. A stuffed animal that looked like a smiling turkey with a pilgrim’s hat also perched there.

  Fane parked and once again opened the car door for her. She could feel the tension in his grip and knew he was concerned about her. She was surprisingly calm. She didn’t particularly want to be ill again but she couldn’t find it within her to worry about it either. She’d decided that whatever fate had in store for her would occur whether she wore a mask or not. After all, hadn’t she gotten sick while wearing one?

  He took her hand once again and led her up to the front door. He opened the door and amazing smells drifted out, engulfing her. She recognized the smell of turkey, but there were other unfamiliar smells. It smelled delicious. She’d been expecting the noise of a lot of people, but it seemed fairly quiet other than some music playing quietly. She wondered if it were a tradition to be quiet on Thanksgiving.

  The room they stood in was similar to Rapunzel’s living area with two sofas, a coffee table, and an end table. However, this room had a large TV taking up most of one wall, the bookcase filled with DVDs and video games.

  “Mom!”

  Fane’s yell startled Rapunzel. A woman came from somewhere at the back of the house and entered the room. She was tall and thin, and her eyes were the same golden brown as Fane’s. She had red hair pulled back into a messy bun at the back of her head. She wore an apron with a terrified looking turkey inside an oven emblazoned on the front and the words, “Okay, who’s the wise guy who told me this was the sauna?” beneath it. Her youthful look surprised Rapunzel. She was quite beautiful.

  “Rapunzel, this is my mom. Mom, Rapunzel.”

  The woman took Rapunzel’s hand in hers, as if in a handshake, but then she enclosed Rapunzel’s hand with her other so that it was a more intimate gesture. She smiled warmly.

  “Hi, Rapunzel. Great name. My name is Beth, by the way.” She threw a squinty-eyed look at Fane as she said that, as if to remind him of his poor manners. “Welcome to our home. I’m so happy you came.”

  Rapunzel couldn’t help but smile back at Fane’s mother. Everything about her, from her smile to her eyes to her body language, added sincerity to her words.

  “Thank you for having me,” she said.

  “Fane said your mom had to go out of town for a family emergency?” She phrased it as a question, and Rapunzel glanced at Fane, grateful she didn’t have to try to make up her own excuse.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s too bad. Hopefully everything will turn out okay.”

  “Where’s Dad?” Fane asked.

  “He went to pick up Grandma and Grandpa. He’ll be home soon.”

  “I’m going to show Rapunzel my room,” Fane said, taking her hand and leading her to a hallway.

  “Door open,” his mom sing-songed as she exited through the doorway she’d just come in through. Fane rolled his eyes, grinning at Rapunzel as if she should be in on the joke, but she didn’t get it.

  Rapunzel followed Fane down a narrow hallway. The ceilings were much lower than any of the ceilings in her house, other than in the area where the original house was. She fought the urge to duck a few times. It almost felt claustrophobic. He opened the door to his room and stepped back for her to enter ahead of himself.

  His room was very different than Rapunzel’s. A narrow bed, covered with a dark blue quilt dotted with white, sat against the opposite wall. His walls were covered with posters of groups of people, movies, and a couple that depicted guitars. A dresser in the corner held a few trophies on top and a stack of books. His backpack sat on the floor next to the dresser.

  “Oops.” He darted in front of her and shut his closet door, flashing her an embarrassed grin.

  On his desk sat his computer where they’d probably first met through Facebook and where she Skyped with him. She glanced at the area behind his computer. His bed was behind it, and a couple of the posters on the wall above that. She hadn’t ever looked close enough to notice the posters—probably because she always kept her gaze so intently on him.

  “Who are the people on the posters?” she asked.

  “Bands I listen to,” he said. “This one is Linkin Park, my favorite. Do you know them?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s just a travesty,” he teased sarcastically. He walked over to a white box that had speakers with a smaller square object sitting on the front. “iPod,” he said, pointing to the little square. “It holds all my music.” She thought it odd that something that small could hold all his music. He must not have much. He pushed a button a couple of times and music blasted into the room. He quickly swirled his finger on the front of it, and the volume lessened.

  “Have a seat,” he said, pointing to the rolling desk chair. “You’re gonna love this.” He indicated the iPod. She sat on the chair and he sat on the bed. She turned the chair to face him, feeling shy sitting in his room. She wasn’t sure why that should be. She’d spent plenty of time alone with him in her rooms. There was just something about sitting here in his room.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It’s quieter than I thought it would be,” she admitted.

  “Just wait. Once all the aunts, uncles, and cousins come, you’ll be wishing for the quiet. Enjoy it while you can.”

  Rapunzel’s stomach tightened at his words. “How many are coming?”

  “Let’s see,” he said, turning his gaze skyward and counting on his fingers. “I think probably around thirty.”

  Rapunzel’s mouth dropped. “Thirty?”

  Fane shrugged as if it weren’t a gigantic number. “My parents are the only ones in the family who only have one child. My dad has two brothers, and my mom has one brother and two sisters. My dad’s brothers have three and four kids, my mom’s two sisters are coming and they have three and five kids. M
y dad’s parents and my mom’s dad, plus the four of us is somewhere around thirty people, right?”

  Rapunzel’s head spun from the numbers. She couldn’t begin to count them based on his speech. “How will I ever remember their names?” she muttered.

  “My mom thought of that,” Fane said. Rapunzel blushed; she hadn’t meant to speak aloud. “She’s making everyone wear name tags that also tell you how they’re related. Should be interesting to see if my cousins actually keep the right ones on.” Fane laughed.

  “Oh,” Rapunzel said, overwhelmed. She preferred to be a bit more invisible, not have everyone do something unusual to accommodate her.

  “My granny—my mom’s mom—died a couple of years ago. It’s been really hard on granddad, so don’t be surprised if you see him tearing up now and then.” Then, as if he’d just thought of it, “Do you have any grandparents?”

  “No.” Rapunzel shook her head. “If the stories we read are true, my mother’s parents died under suspicious circumstances, and my father’s parents died before he even married.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Right.” Fane sounded sorry for asking, but Rapunzel was caught up in her words. She hadn’t ever really thought of her father before. She’d never really questioned his existence—or lack of existence, until she’d read about him in the articles. It seemed strange that there had been a man who had fathered her, who would have been a big part of her life had he lived. She wondered if he truly had slipped off that cliff, or if—

  “You okay?” Fane leaned forward, looking at her with concern.

  “I just realized that I have—or had, I should say—a father. And grandparents.”

  “Yeah, I guess that would be weird if you’d never known about him. Or them.” He smiled and took her hand in his. “You’ll love my grandparents. And they’ll love you as well.”

  Rapunzel looked at their hands. Fane idly rubbed the back of her hand. His hand was larger, darker, compared to her thin, pale, frail-looking fingers. While she was sure the gesture didn’t mean much to him, it did funny things to her belly.

  “So, why do your parents only have you?” she asked, voice trembling.