The Cinderella Theorem (17 page)

A
small table, about the size of a jewelry box was under some tissue paper. I quickly
found the switch. The table lit up and a female voice said:

“How can you get there if you haven’t tried?

How can you get there without a map-guide?

What map would you like to see?

Salt Land? Greenland? Italy”

“Good
afternoon, Map Table.” I said, trying to remember what Ella and I had done in
her map room.

“Good
afternoon, Princess. What map would you like to see?”

I’d
really only turned the thing on to see if it worked. “Um...” I stalled, buying
time to think. “Oh!” I realized, suddenly. “Show me the best way to get from
HEA to Ella’s.” The only way I knew was a trek to Arthur’s, followed by a
massive storm and a fork.

“Now
giving directions to Cinderella’s castle,” the table announced.

The
map changed and zoomed in on itself, showing a closer view of the first four
rings, south of HEA. “Now showing the fastest route to the residence of Ella
and Aven. Please observe the arrows, Princess.” I blinked and looked at the
map; arrows were appearing along the route as the table spoke the directions.
“Travel west to Pele Fork. Take the orange door to Ella’s; follow the usual
path to her castle.” The arrows reached Ella’s castle. “Estimated travel time:
10 minutes.” The arrows disappeared. “Now showing the scenic route to the
residence of Ella and Aven. Once again, please observe the arrows.”

I
grinned. The table was very efficient.

“Take
South Road to the town of Bremen. Follow the Fourth Wood west to Ella’s.
Estimated travel time: 40 minutes.”

Evidently
traveling by forks made quite a difference.

“Is
there anything else, Princess?”

“No,
thank you, Map Table.”

“Very
well, Princess. May all your travels be well-guided.”

The
table went dim, and I turned the switch to
off
. I carefully put the
table in my bottom desk drawer, deciding I liked using map tables. They were
very useful, and based on their calculation of traveling time, quite
mathematical.

I finished
reading
Beauty and the Beast,
then went on to
The Wild Swans,
making
plenty of notes. Finally it was time to go to Cinderella’s. I packed my things
back into my work book bag.
[44]
A sheet of paper fell on the floor. It was my list of questions about
Cinderella. My eyes fell on the name “Miranda,” that mysterious Happiologist of
Ella’s. Miranda, who had done so well with Ella’s levels, but wasn’t Ella’s
Happiologist anymore. I wondered if Grimm was in his office. Perhaps he would
remember Miranda.

Grimm
was on the phone when I arrived.

“Frank
and Marie are certain?” He waved me in. “Grease stains on the switchboard.” He
scribbled notes on a pad.

It
sounded like Levi’s phone visit had been discovered.

“And
they have no way of knowing who he called?”

I
deliberately avoided Grimm’s eyes.

“Hmm…Erased
the phone records.” Grimm wrote and spoke at the same time. “Okay, Daniel,
thanks for the information. Write up a report and get copies to me and the king.”
Grimm hung up the phone, capped his pen, and looked at me. “What can I do for
you, Lily?”

“Why
don’t you have a mirrorphone?” I asked, suddenly realizing that Grimm always
used a normal phone.

He
smiled. “I ate part of Dulcita’s mirrorphone and she cursed me.”

I
opened my mouth and then closed it. Grimm’s reply was not at all what I had
expected. I had expected something like
I think mirrorphones are impractical
,
or
I think traditional phones are more private
.

I
sighed, preparing myself for another illogical revelation. “Who’s Dulcita?”

“The
witch from Hansel and Gretel.”

I
racked my brain for a reference. “They returned my bike after the storm,” I
said, surprised at my recollection. “And,” I added, slowly, remembering
something else from Calo’s assigned readings, “don’t they have an evil
stepmother?”

“They
do,” Grimm confirmed.

I
smiled, proud of myself for remembering a fairy tale. “So you ate Dulcita’s mirrorphone,
and now you can’t have a one?”

“I
was a beginning Happiologist, and at the time, there were no forks to allow for
rapid travel. I had biked nearly around the entire seventh wood, and I was
starving. I came upon a little cottage made of candy and gingerbread.” Grimm
licked his lips. “Anyway,” he shook his head, “in the yard were all kinds of
things: tables, chairs, dishes–you name it. At first I thought it was a yard
sale, but everything was really food, so I assumed it was a bake sale.

“I
decided I would buy the mirrorphone cake. I was so hungry I started eating while
I waited at the pretzel table to pay.” He sighed, sadly. “Little did I know
that Dulcita was really just brushing crumbs off her walls. She had moved the
furniture outside, so it wouldn’t get crumby.”

“Oh,”
I interrupted. “Let me guess; she came outside, saw you, and angrily cursed
you.”

Grimm
nodded. “Exactly. Now, whenever I look in a mirrorphone, I turn into a statue.”

My
eyes went wide. “Wow. That’s horrible!”

Grimm
started laughing. “It’s not so bad, really. The curse wears off in a week, and
the stone does wonders for your skin. It’s just an annoying hazard mostly.” He
grinned. “But you didn’t come in here to ask about mirrorphones, did you?”

I
stopped calculating Grimm’s total mass in stone and paid attention. “Right,” I
nodded. “I’m doing some in-depth research on Ella for Calo.” Not exactly truth,
not exactly lie. “And as I was going through the file, the name of a Happiologist
I didn’t know came up: Miranda. Do you know her?”

Grimm
half-smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m acquainted with Miranda.”

“Well,
do you know why Ella switched Happiologists from Miranda to my father? All the
reports indicated they had an excellent relationship. Miranda was making real
progress in maintaining Ella’s levels.”

Grimm
shifted in his chair. “Miranda married and was considering cutting back on her
case load, so she could have more time with her husband. She usually carried
well above the normal number of clients and decided to scale down to an average
load. Miranda never intended to drop Ella from her client list, but Levi heard
about it and twisted it to serve his own purposes.”

I
looked up. “Levi?”

Grimm
nodded and continued. “He told Ella that Miranda was going to drop her because
Miranda was too happily married to spend time with her anymore. And if you are
studying Ella’s file, you know her own marriage is a source of her unhappiness.
Ella was jealous of Miranda’s marriage and, I think, her job. So she dropped
her.”

“Miranda
dropped Ella?”

Grimm
shook his head. “No. Ella dropped Miranda. She changed Happiologists, citing
irreconcilable differences. Miranda tried to explain things, tried to make her
see, but Levi’s words were stuck in her mind.” Grimm sighed. “It’s too bad.
He’s entirely too good at what he does.”

I
smiled uncomfortably. “Really?”

“Yes,
from a SEA standpoint, he’s brilliant. He doesn’t just make a person sad. He
thinks fifteen steps ahead, but, more importantly, he understands that a
person’s depression never impacts only them; it touches everyone close to
them.”

I
thought of Celdan and her four dead children. Watching her suffer must have
impacted Colin and her father, slowly destroying them.

“Ella’s
firing of Miranda had an effect on Miranda as well. She felt responsible, and
her levels reflected that for a time.” Grimm sipped some coffee.

“Is
Miranda still a Happiologist?”

“Yes.
Her office is upstairs.” Grimm pointed to the ceiling.

“Who
did she marry?”

Grimm
smiled and raised his eyebrows, “Me.”

~~~

I
didn’t use either of the map-table’s routes to Ella’s. Instead I made a detour
to Once Upon a Tine, to speak with Puss, the talking-cat owner. His tail
swished around behind him, and he stroked his whiskers often, but I suppose he
washes his paws before he returns to work. Puss agreed to my proposal, only on
a trial basis, but that’s still something.

I
biked back around to Pele Fork and went to Ella’s. Everything near her castle
was still impeccably neat. The grass was amazingly green and perfect, as if it
were daring you to litter and destroy the happy picture.

I
used the glass (or gold) slipper doorknocker to announce myself. Nothing
happened. I knocked again and waited. Ella was breathless when she finally came
to the door.

“Lily!”
She rested her hand on her chest while she breathed deeply. “What a wonderful
surprise. Do come in.”

I
followed her into the parlor.

“I
apologize for keeping you waiting, Lily. I gave the maid the day off and I was
up in the attic cleaning and didn’t hear the door. Then, when I
did
, I
had to run to answer it.”

“Oh,
that’s fine.” I wondered if the other princesses cleaned out their own attics.
I pictured Okera finally finishing hers and being able to sleep again, her mind
cleared of the nagging disorganized attic.

“I’ll
bring some tea.” Ella and her deep breathing went out of the room.

I
looked around the room and noticed that the furniture was positioned
differently from the last time I was here. The entire room had been rearranged
and now the furniture faced the window instead of the door.

“You’ve
moved the furniture,” I commented as Ella returned.

She
looked around at her room. “Oh, yeah, I did.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I
was bored over the weekend, so I decided to make a little change.”

“That’s
nice.” I blinked as I realized the walls had been painted also. Ella has a very
loose definition of
little
. “Did Aven help you?”

Ella
smiled and raised her eyebrows. “No, Aven was on Olympus all weekend.”

“Mount
Olympus? Where all the gods live?” I surprised myself again. My fairy tale
retention level was rising.

Ella
nodded. “Neptune’s map of the sea floor got dry, so it was completely ruined.”
She sipped her tea. “He went over there after finishing the map of Avalon. I’m
not sure when he’ll be back. It takes ages to map out the sea floor.”

“I
can imagine,” I agreed, calculating the square mileage of the ocean floor. I
sipped my tea and decided to change the subject. “Oh, by the way,” I began,
wanting my precious Cinderella Theorem to seem as unplanned as possible, “do
you happen to know anyone who paints? Pictures, I mean, not rooms.” I glanced
at the lavender walls.

Ella
smiled at my clarification and looked thoughtful. “Well, I…um…yes, I might
possibly know someone who paints.” Her words were slow and halting.

“Wonderful.
I’m working Puss-in-Boots’ case. He’s distraught about a recent downturn in
business at the restaurant.” I lied. (There was no way to half-truth this
story. Although, Puss
had
agreed to comply with my story if asked. I
just hoped Calo didn’t find out.) “Puss thinks that if he had art displayed for
people to look at and maybe even purchase, he’d attract more business.”

“That’s
odd.” Ella added some milk to her tea. “I was in Once Upon A Tine the other
day, and there was quite a crowd for dinner.”

“It’s
the lunch crowd he’s worried about.” I lied again, hoping there was no magical
curse lurking in the atmosphere, waiting to pounce on liars.

“Oh.”
Ella stirred her tea, thoughtfully. “I wonder,” she went on. “I used to paint.”
Her eyes glazed as she remembered.

“Really?”
I faked surprise. “You painted?”

“Yes,”
Ella smiled. “I really enjoyed it. There’s just something about holding a
brush. It makes you feel completely different. You can say things you can’t
normally say.”

I
smiled. “Well, if you’ve got some paintings lying around or if you want to make
some for Puss, you should talk to him. He’s very anxious to boost that lunch
crowd.”

I
changed to subject after that, but I could tell Ella was still thinking about
the paintings. She was probably going through them in her mind, picking out the
best ones. I thanked her for the tea and made plans to come back sometime soon
for another “friendly” visit.

On
the ride home, my conscience raised a few doubts about the Cinderella Theorem.
It might technically be wrong to trick Ella like this, but Puss
was
open
to displaying the work. He just wasn’t having any trouble with his business.
And given Ella’s touchy history when it came to her Happiologists, it might not
have been a good idea to take advantage of her and “be friends” just to prove
she can be happy by being normal.