Rapunzel Untangled (5 page)

“I’ll make myself dinner every night,” Rapunzel said, pointing to the blank spots on the schedule.

“Why ever would you do that? Cook will be here. She can bring your dinner each night.”

“I
like
to cook,” she said, standing and moving to the bookcase that rested against the gray stone wall next to the door. She turned to her mother. “Who is Cook anyway? Is she a maid or something?” She’d never seen or met her, only eaten food cooked by her and either left at her door or brought up by her mother.

Her mother looked at her oddly. “She’s the cook.”

Rapunzel laughed. “Our cook’s name is Cook? How ironic is that?”

“Of course it’s not her name,” her mother scoffed.

“Her name isn’t Cook?” Rapunzel was confused. “But then, what is her name? Why do we call her Cook?”

“
We
don’t call her anything.” She stood and closed the folder that held the schedule. “She is the cook, therefore I call her Cook. Her name is unimportant.”

Rapunzel’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to voice her surprise at such an attitude when her mother froze. Rapunzel followed her gaze and saw what had caught her mother’s attention. Earlier she had dropped a glass of orange juice that shattered. She thought she’d cleaned it up, but now saw the sticky spot under the cabinet’s edge. Dread tightened her stomach.

“Rapunzel,” her mother said, voice quivering, face suddenly pale and clammy.

“I’m sorry,” Rapunzel quickly apologized, rushing over to the sink to wet a cloth. She dropped to her knees and frantically scrubbed at the spot.

Once she was certain the sticky area was more than clean and had been sterilized with the bleach solution, she turned back to her mother who stared blankly at the spot where it had been. “It’s gone now, see?” she asked tentatively, moving slowly toward her mother.

“Do you understand what can happen, Rapunzel, if we relax our vigilance for just one moment, if we become careless?”

Rapunzel nodded as soon as the first word escaped her mother’s mouth. “I do know, and I’m very sorry. I missed it somehow. It won’t happen again.”

Her mother suddenly pulled her into her painful embrace, nearly smothering Rapunzel with her overbearing fright. “No, it must not happen again. You
know
the consequences.”

Rapunzel nodded against her mother, mainly with the objective of trying to find a pocket of oxygen. As suddenly as Gothel grabbed Rapunzel, she then released her. “Why this sudden interest in Cook?” her mother asked suspiciously, all concern forgotten.

Rapunzel stumbled at the sudden freedom. She put a hand against the countertop, regaining some balance in the shift. “Well, Mother, it’s just that this is my whole world, this room. I’ve never seen the rest of the house. I have no idea what it looks like. I don’t know who else works here, because all I ever hear about is Cook. I don’t even know our
address
.” She couldn’t keep the exasperation from her tone.

Her mother pushed up against her, her face inches from Rapunzel’s own, a blaze in her eyes Rapunzel had never seen before.

“Why would you need to know the address here, Rapunzel? What difference could that possibly make to you?” Rapunzel cowered against the sharp edge of the counter. Suddenly her mother relaxed and soothed her hands down Rapunzel’s arms in a frantic petting motion. “You don’t need to worry your little head about such things. Must you be such a burden? Just forget about your silly, unimportant questions.”

She turned toward the door, scooping up the folder on her way past. At the door, she turned back, eyes narrowed, empty smile pasted on her face. “Rapunzel, put thoughts of a cure from your mind. There is no cure.”

With those words she left the room, leaving a stunned Rapunzel trying to figure out what had just happened. She looked around at the dismal gray walls that seemed to loom closer than ever. She’d lived within these walls as long as she could remember. The thought of never stepping outside them, never seeing another person’s face besides that of her mother . . . of never even knowing who lived or worked within her home overwhelmed her with sadness. How was she supposed to continue on without hope?

She turned to her computer and the one person who had become her refuge. He was offline, so she decided to leave him a message.

My mother leaves for her trip next week. Do you want to

She stared at her flashing cursor. She stood and walked back out into the main room, then into the other alcove with the window. She opened the window, surprised to see Angel perched in the tree. The bird turned her head toward Rapunzel and chirped, leaving her perch to land on the windowsill.

“I’m sorry, Angel, I don’t have any seeds for you.” She turned an empty palm over to show the bird, who hopped over until she resided on Rapunzel’s palm. She pecked lightly at her palm twice before settling down, wings tucked under. Rapunzel grinned as she cautiously brought her second hand up. When she first stroked Angel’s head she expected the little bird to flit away. Instead, the bird closed her eyes as if in pleasure. Rapunzel continued stroking, and Angel sat still, turning her head occasionally from side to side as if to encourage Rapunzel to not miss a single spot. Then, chattering, the bird flew off. Rapunzel laughed, her mood suddenly lifted.

With renewed determination, she walked back to her computer and finished her message.

My mother leaves for her trip next week. Do you want to come over one night?

She clicked the send button without trepidation.

 
^.*
*

Seriously? You want me to come over while your mother is away?

Rapunzel realized how her request must sound.

If you’re uncomfortable coming over without a suitable chaperone, I will understand.

Uh . . . that’s not what I meant. Are you uncomfortable without a chaperone?

She wasn’t sure how to answer that. What was proper in this situation? She hadn’t really thought her request through. She’d only been thinking that she wanted to talk to someone else in person. Even if it killed her.

I promise your virtue is safe with me.

Rapunzel’s cheeks burned.

Oh, I didn’t question that. Is it okay that I asked you over, or is that a strange request?

Not a strange request at all, and one I’ve been hoping for. I’ve wanted to meet the mysterious Rapunzel G for a while now. Not related to Kenny G, are you?

Who? And please don’t ROLF at my ignorance.

Well, since I don’t have a LAUGHING FLOOR to roll on, I think I can manage to refrain.

Rapunzel’s laughed at herself.

Oops. I meant . . . well, you know what I meant.

Yeah, I do. And please, please know I’m grinning as I happily accept your invitation. When and where?

Her mind raced at the thought of having him here, in her rooms. A different face. Someone other than her mother.

She leaves Friday morning. Do you want to come Friday night? And here at my house, I suppose.

Friday night works well. Neither wrestling nor basketball has started yet, so I still have a few free minutes in my life. I do have practice after school but I could come around 8. You want me to bring a pizza? And FYI, I have no idea where you live. An address would be helpful for that.

Rapunzel suddenly realized she
really
hadn’t thought this through. Not only did she not know her address, she wasn’t sure how she was going to get him into her room. Obviously he couldn’t just march up to the front door and come in.

Hold on a minute.

She hurried over to the window and, after looking around to make sure no one was near, opened it. She looked down. The ground was at least twenty feet below. While the turret was built of rough stone, she doubted he could climb it. He
could
climb the tree, but then how would he get from the tree to the window? It was six feet away.

Her eyes fell on the outbuildings. There might be a ladder in one of them, but she had no way of knowing for certain. Frustrated by her discovery, she huffed out a breath. A bird tweeted nearby, catching her attention. Angel flittered overhead. As Rapunzel watched, the bird flew just below and landed on the trellis that hugged the side of the house.

“Hey, Angel,” she called. “Wish I had time to play, but I have Fane on hold.” Angel chattered loudly at her. Rapunzel pulled her head back inside, placing her hands on the bottom of the window to close it, when she realized what she had just seen. She stuck her head back out the window, glanced down at the bluebird, and laughed. “Angel, you’re genius.”

She went into the kitchenette and grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds from her drawer. She ran back to the window and scattered them on the ground below. Angel chirped and dove down to the proffered treats. Rapunzel closed the window and walked back to the computer.

I’m back. Can I ask how you you’d feel about climbing a trellis?

You are always full of surprises. That’s nowhere near any question I’ve ever been asked before. And I’m kind of curious what it has to do with pizza and your address.

Before she could type a reply, a new message from him popped up.

Wait! Are you saying I need to climb a trellis to get to you? Awesome!

Yes. I can’t let you in the front door, so you’ll have to climb up to my room. If I can discover my address, then I’ll tell you where to find the correct trellis. There might be more.

You GENUINELY don’t know your address? Huh. Weird. Okay. Maybe I can find you by your last name if it’s not common.

I know the name of my house. Does that help? It’s actually my own last name.

Your house has a name? Can’t be too many of those, so maybe that will help. Especially if it’s also your last name and your last name isn’t Smith or Lee.

Rapunzel took a deep breath, then plunged.

My last name is Gothel. I live at Gothel Manor. Do you know where it is?

The cursor flashed for so long without response Rapunzel thought he’d signed off. It showed him as still online, though. Maybe he was Googling the information. She smacked her forehead.
Of course
. Why hadn’t she thought of that all this time? She probably could have discovered her own address in that same manner and not had to let him know that she didn’t know where she lived. She moved her mouse to open a new tab for that very purpose when his message came.

Sorry. Just a bit stunned, here. Are you saying you live at GOTHEL MANSION??? THE Gothel Mansion? I’m having a hard time believing that. You’ve been playing me this whole time? Is that the reason for all the secrecy? I’m just kind of feeling . . . disbelieving, I guess.

Rapunzel stared at his words. Was her home well known? Why did he call it Gothel Mansion instead of Gothel Manor? And why did he think she was kidding about living here?

My mother calls it Gothel Manor, so maybe that’s different?

No, Rapunzel. There’s only one that I know of. It has to be the same. Are you telling me the truth here?

Yes, of course.

She made a decision.

Okay, time for me to stop being so “secretive” as you say. But I have good reasons for being so. I have a disease

She stopped and deleted the last four words.

I can’t go outside because if I do I will get very sick. I live in a specific area of the house. It’s the southeast corner. I only know that because I have a compass. I don’t know my address because I’ve never had any reason to need to know it. I suppose I could have Googled it, but honestly the thought never crossed my mind. Is it weird that I live here?

There was no response again for a few minutes before he answered.

No, not weird, just . . . never mind. So you live in the tower?

Uh, the tower? I don’t know. Is it a tower?

Yes, it is. I know where it is. I’ll be there Friday at 8.

Rapunzel sensed the difference in his tone. Something wasn’t right.

Rapunzel, promise me one thing.

Okay.

Don’t Google your house.

 
^.*
*

R
apunzel’s mother joined her for breakfast as usual on Friday morning. Rapunzel’s entire being thrummed with nerves with the anticipation of both her mother leaving and her scheduled visitor.

“It’s only six days, Rapunzel. You’ll be fine.” She handed Rapunzel a small phone. “I’ll call you every day. Do you know how to work this?”

Rapunzel shook her head. Of course not. She’d seen them on the Internet and in some of the movies she’d watched but had never held one. Her mother took a matching phone from her purse and pushed a button. The phone in Rapunzel’s hand vibrated, startling her.

“Push this button here,” her mother pointed. She did so, and after a few moments her mother guided it to her ear. Gothel mirrored the gesture and when she spoke Rapunzel heard her words echoed in the phone. “This is how we will stay in communication.” Her mother pushed another button, showing Rapunzel what to do to end the call. “I’ll call you every evening at six. Now, Rapunzel, you remember what we spoke about?”

“Yes,” she said, repeating the words that had been drilled into her daily since her mother first told her she’d be going. “Brush my hair each night in seventy-two strokes, stay away from the window, and keep my rooms clean.”

“Yes, that’s a good girl.” She stroked Rapunzel’s hair before pulling her into a quick, awkward embrace. “Stay safe. There’s much riding on you.”

“I know,” she answered. As her mother left, Rapunzel turned back to the rooms that had always felt comforting and familiar. They now felt empty and cold. She shivered and went into the alcove to complete her homework. Once she finished with that, she opened the movie streaming site. She searched through the main page until she found one that looked interesting.