ONCE.......
The Other Side of the Story
(Jack and the Beanstalk)
Before they finally lived happily ever after, he held the ax in both hands and swung it hard.
Thuck!
And with one final blow, the gigantic stalk was cut down. It fell down the ground; the massive leaves with an approximate size of a traditional rooftop, the wickedly enormous legume; the beanstalk itself fell down with a loud crash, and along with it, the giant came tumbling down with a horrible cry. Another crash that shook the earth, the giant tried to scramble up…to get up on its feet but couldn’t.
Thuck!
The ax swung. Another horrible cry.
Thuck!
Followed by silence….and the giant is dead.
Everything was then forgotten after some decades and people even question if such event really occurred. Jean Louise thinks so, but was quite beguiled or if not, afraid to admit it. And after waking up to those nightmares she’s been experiencing for the past few days,again,she finds herself being entice by the golden harp resting above the old mantelpiece. Atleast four feet in height, all strings intact, and the whole of it is carved in intricate designs like that of a gothic ornate------------the instrument is such a spectacle to behold. Where did it come from? This she knew very well and she always shudder at the thought of it. As the sole heiress of her great,great,great grandfather Jack as they call him, that harp is but only one of those priceless inheritance she now has. Almost like an heirloom.
Now talking about the nightmares, Jean Louise is quite agitated. The giant is after her. Always after her and this giant was long dead! Killed by her ancestor; grandfather Jack!
--------Thief! Thief!
--------Please come back! Don’t take that! Come back!
That voice. That deep,low voice. Booming. Shrieking.
It is always hunting her. What could it possibly mean?
The harp seemed to gleam from a distance. Then finally the giant fell in his pursuit of getting it back from the hands of the thief who bears the very contour of her face! And now as she opens her eyes once again, she knew she is not dreaming, not anymore…
Jean Louise woke up to find herself lying down the cold damp ground. She couldn’t tell whether it’s dawn or twilight. It is somewhat dark with but little light enough for her to see the vast land that surrounds her. It is barren save for only a couple of grasses that which inhabits the place. And the air is dead still. No chirping sounds, no howling, not even a single sign of existence. She stood up. She was still in her night gown she noticed. The white silk is smooth and glossy against her skin. Barefooted, she started walking but after taking a few steps, she heard a voice.
“Do you know where to go?”
She spun around to see a woman standing behind her. She was startled. She slowly took a few steps backwards as the other woman took her advance on her. Her icy blue eyes are somewhat probing.
“Who are you? What is this place?” she asked.
“Stellar Nemesis. This is paradise Jean Louise Robinsons and you are most welcome”
“How do you know my name??”
“I’ve been watching you Ms.Robinsons Ever since you we’re born. You who most likely resembles him”
“What are you talking about?! I don’t understand you!”
“Come. Follow me”
Stellar walked past her with steady steps. She meekly followed as she subtly studied her. She’s wearing black tights, with a heavy ornamented belt made of something like leather where a long dagger was strapped. Her long blue tunic looks miraculously soft enough for a lady’s nightgown despite its ruggedness. Her short raven black hair seemed to bounce with every move she makes.
“You see this place? It is not what it looked before. No, not until your ancestor took away the life in it. You must’ve known what I mean, or…don’t you?”
She turned to look at her and perhaps seeing the look of puzzlement in her eyes, laughed a bit to herself.
“It’s been decades since that young man came to visit us. He has the same dark eyes like yours, same hair pigment, same fairness of skin, oh yes he’s as beautiful as you are now”
“It’s my ancestor Jack I suppose…”
Jean finally said as if in a tone of surrender. This is it…..she thought. The dreams she had. She knew there’s something sinister coming and this is it. The inheritance is no more but a curse…
--------Thief! Thief!
--------Please come back! Don’t take that! Come back!
…murderer....murderer….
Cacophonous-------Like the very sound of her death.
“Yes. Jack Robinsons----”
Stellar’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Her voice has that tinge of iciness which made her wince almost in pain. She didn’t say a word. She looked down her feet which are now sore and continued walking following Stellar’s brisk footsteps. She noticed that another dagger gleamed beneath the strap of her boots. The sight of it makes her shudder. Stellar could kill here right there and then if she wants to.
“----the great magician as he call himself. He made his way up here through those beans. I’m sure you’re aware of that Jean.”
Yes of course. She is aware of that. Along with the inheritance comes the story of great grandfather Jack. Of how he got his beans and of how he had climbed up to some sort of heaven which was inhabited by bad giants. As a child, she would always look up to grandfather Jack as a hero while she sit on her granny’s lap and listen to the story which has been passed from their ancestors for how many decades.
“Y-yes…” she answered wondering and yet knowing what is to come.
The sky remained dim as if time had stopped and that the sun nor the moon would shine no more. Stellar stopped walking and looked up as if in trance. Her eyes seem to wander around. She too did the same. They are still in the middle of the barren land as if they hadn’t moved from the same place where they came from except that there seemed to be a shadow of a citadel which loomed not far ahead.
“Come now young one, you must meet the jurors at once”
Again, Stellar walked in a more hastened pace that she nearly wanted to collapse rather than to follow her steps. They entered the fortress where a great mass of people fashioned like that of Stellar awaits. They passed through a massive gate and entered a torch lighted hall.
The council is made up of at least five jurors and an alchemist or so she thinks. All eyes were on her. Same icy blue eyes like Stellar’s. Same cold stares which she couldn’t meet.
She looked around and studied the room as a leeway. The walls are made up of green marble. So high are these walls that she couldn’t see what lies above them. The torches blaze all around them. They create shadows illuminating the said room. At the far end is an altar. Nothing more.
“Come forward Robinsons!”
There’s almost an outrage in the way he calls her, this red garbed juror. Her head starts to spin. What is happening? And what is to happen?
Stellar is standing behind her like a cold marble statue. If only she would look at her. She feels more at ease that way. Dazzled, she slowly moved forward.
“Speak of your guilt lady!” the other juror said. This one looks older than the others.
“But----!” she started to protest in vain. They were all looking at her and she knew that there’s no point in arguing but it’s all she could do.
“---- guilty of what?? What have I done for you to torment me like this?! I don’t even understand how I got here and what has it got to do with Jack Robinsons!” she shouted frantically. They didn’t stir a bit. There was a moment of silence.
“I was the one who brought you here” Stellar said calmly and talked no more.
“Aye! It was Stellar’s duty to bring you here for your trial. You Jean Louise Robinsons, the thief Jack’s heir who now holds the golden harp in her possession, the harp which was then the very heart of our land! You saw it for yourself, this paradise turned into a purgatory because of your ancestor’s doing! He could’ve just stolen the golden eggs and any riches he could but not that harp!” the other one said. Jean is now trembling.
“But that wasn’t me…no it wasn’t me! And how could I have known? I’ve heard a different story! The inheritance came from a monster! My ancestor Jack got it, yes, got it from a giant who then died after falling down the ground------“
“Monster?? Died after falling down the ground?? Incredulous! I pity you child for being a victim of your own kin! Indeed heroic! Jack Robinsons held a hero for MURDERING Humphrey after stealing gold and other jewels from our land after we accepted him wholeheartedly; fed him, clothe him! And after befriending Humphrey and winning his trust, he finally took the chance of taking the harp away from his care and ran away with it!” the alchemist spoke with profound rage and sorrow. Jean couldn’t help but cry.
“Without the harp, our land is more likely dead. No trees will grow, no more animals, and we are surrounded by darkness which you yourself witnessed. Everyone in each other’s eyes is considered edible…and all the people you saw outside are hungry. They are also thirsty Jean Louise….thirsty for the blood of Robinsons”
Jean was stricken with insuperable horror. She stared dumbly at the one who spoke. It was Stellar, whose cold eyes stared blankly into nothing; the tiny flames seem to dance wildly in its luminescence.
“T-the harp, it’s what you need right? I... I can give it back to you! Even all the riches I have! Just let me go home to get it and I’ll give them back!” she is almost pleading.
The room is now spinning around her and the air in it seems to grow denser and it’s choking her. The six old men infront of her near the altar are like statues merely looking at her.
She felt Stellar moving beside her until they are only inches apart.
“I’m afraid it was too late for that Jean…” it was almost in a whisper…in a sad whisper….
“If I bring the harp back, your land will return back to its original form right? ------“
Stellar didn’t answer. There was no answer coming even from the jurors. All she could hear was the beating of her heart and the cracklings of the fire from each torch.
“-----and, and….the giant---- Humphrey I mean. His death was an accident! He fell down in pursuit of Jack! He slipped and fell down and I am sorry that it happened that way!”
“Jean Louise, listen to me. It wasn’t your fault-----“
“Then let me go back home!” she spun around and grabbed Stellar’s shoulder with both hands. Stellar didn’t even wince. She just stared back at her with the same apathetic arrogance she’s been displaying all throughout the whole masquerade.
“It wasn’t my fault! You’ve just said it yourself! I’m not the one responsible for Humphrey’s death! You should’ve just taken the harp away from my family a long time ago! Why does it have to be in my time??”
“We tried Jean Louise. But your father hid it away from us the way his father did. Yes, it could have been you who is willing to give it back but then it was too late. This land died the moment your father scorned our bidding….” Her voice seems to grow fainter now.
“You are now here in place of the harp Jean Louise…as the last of Jack Robinsons’ kin. The sole heir of our riches”
Jean looked around but couldn’t find the old men anymore. Where did they go? Her eyes searched the room for a possible escape. It is hopeless. Unjustifiable. Is this what they call trial?
Fee-fi-fo-fum,
There goes the blood of the Englishman,
She breathed life, now she be dead
We’ll have her bones for Humphrey’s head….
“Do you hear them Stellar? The people outside are happy for you. Do you hear them laughing? Cheering? Humphrey was a nice fellow…. he was everybody’s friend and we all grieved for him. He took really good care of the harp but was soft hearted enough to trust Jack------“
There was a sudden quiver in her voice
“---who finally gave end to his life”
Stellar Nemesis. Nemesis…. Jean wanted to scream but her tongue seems to have left her.
There was a pause of silence between them. Then Stellar came forward like a sleek jaguar upon her prey.
“Now you must die Jean Louise”
Nothing has changed in Stellar’s expression as she lifted the ax from the cold marble floor.
…going back in time------
Humphrey ran after him like a madman but Jack was too far away now. Still, he followed him through the meadow and at last, to the end of the cliff where the beanstalk still looms. He looked down and was startled to discover how far it goes down below. He was terrified. A giant like him would most likely to be terrified of heights. From behind, he could hear Stellar’s voice but it was too distant.
“Father stop! It’s dangerous!” the girl’s little voice wailed.
“I must stop him! I must get the harp back!” with these words, he finally clung to the body of the enormous beans and suddenly was out of sight.
On the other hand, Jack Robinsons jumped down the ground and grabbed the ax from the woodpile near him and started chopping the beanstalk to his mother and other neighbor’s surprise.
“Help me bring this down! A fierce giant is coming down to get me! He will eat us all!” he lied.
Frightened by these words, the woodcutters nearby went to help Jack and soon afterwards the beanstalk fell down with a loud crash followed by the body of the giant Humphrey.
Humphrey moaned. Still calling out Jack’s name, he tried to get up but the impact of the fall made him unable to move. And before he knew it, he’s being tied down with a thick rope by atleast fifteen men...Jack was one of them.
“Jack,please give me back the harp. Please…my people need it…” he groaned. Nobody seemed to hear or understand him. The rope was getting tighter around him.
Thuck!
He felt the first pang of pain on his throat.
Thuck!
Followed by another one. Hot liquid started to gush out of his pierced skin. His vision started to blur.
Thuck! Thuck! Thuck! Thuck!
Pieces of meat were scattered on the ground…
Fresh meat torn into pieces. As the days went by, it gave off a foul odor. It slowly decays. The bone on which they used to cling on now starts to show. Maggots emerged. They warmed themselves on the putrid belly. Millions of them. Like the gold that now gives warmth to every child of Jack. Millions…and even more…
Still, the days went by. Years went by and Humphrey who gave birth to the larvae now hides beneath the piles of dust and mud.
He rested beside the fallen beanstalk-----
Once upon a time.
-----Tamielt Azrun-----
December 01,2008 06:05 am
Send in the Clown
(Rain for Sahara)
I remember her too well. A stark figure at the back of my mind. Her hair the color of proud ebony hangs loosely down to her shoulders up to her waist. Her eyes were almost ancient; the dust pigment of the sick moonlight.
Now let me tell you about the moment we both stepped into each other’s life….
I saw balloons. Beautiful white balloons flew up high above me….up into the pale colored twilight. For a split second which seemed to me like eternity, I was mesmerized. I was so high that for a moment, I didn’t hear the screaming. In a flash, I saw the red car and heard the wheels screeching down the pavement. Then the world stopped. I could hear the stranger’s heartbeat; felt her chest pressed against my back. Her gloved-hands were pressed against my bosom…..her arms around me. Her black tress was falling down on me like a protective veil upon my naked shoulder.
“What are you trying to do lady, kill yourself?!”
I heard him yell; the man inside the red car.
“I’m sorry monsieur!”
Before I could utter a word, a voice already gave an answer for me. It was the stranger whose arms were still wrapped around my lithe figure.
Still murmuring and perhaps cursing, the man drove away fast.
The crowd stood breathless as if in trance or probably just curious as of to what have had happened or what might’ve happened.
“Are you okay?”
“What happened? Is she really trying to kill herself?”
“Is she hurt?”
Flood of questions. Murmurings.
In a blur, I could see her; the stranger, nodding and smiling and answering for me.
“Yes, she’ll be fine. Don’t worry Mesdames, merci beaucoup” were some of her polite replies.
That summer afternoon is hot, and I could feel the stinging heat in my eyes. My throat was dry and the smell of cocaine seems to still linger in the air around me. I felt sick! My body seemed to soar up high like a weightless sylph.
“The balloons…they’re lost…”
I remember myself uttering those words deliriously. So softly.
The bright colored patches of her clothes like that of a jester were wonderful. So lively. They seem to be hypnotizing.
Then everything went black.
The next thing I knew, I was propped up in a tidy bed of soft laces and quilts. She was standing there by the window smiling. Oh how enigmatic she looks! Her arms crossed infront of her as she stood magnificently, back against the creviced wall-------- a delicate work of art; painted with pale green color like that of a summer mint and cream shake. The graffiti, most of all, caught my attention; the white roses, the size of my smallest nail seemed to cling around the crevices, the leaves carefully painted in darker, yet light shade of green-------- and she stood there. Her dress was as white as those roses and she herself was looking exotically wild utmost.
“So how do you like my place? I see that your eyes are quite perplexed”
I was astounded to hear her melodious voice once more.
“I-I’m sorry…it’s just that--------“
“You don’t like it?” she said pretending to be in pain.
“No, no! I don’t mean that!” I said in an almost panicky voice. Again she smiled. A good natured one.
“So how are you feeling now?”
“I’m….I’m fine. Thank you” I answered as I gazed out the open window past her. The stars are beautiful outside.
“What were you thinking this afternoon? You just stepped out into that curb. I saw it. I know you saw the car approaching” it was almost in a manner of scolding, and it seem to me that she was probing me with that last line.
I couldn’t meet her stare. How could a stranger make me feel helpless as of that moment?
“N-no I didn’t…”
If only I could stop my heart from beating so fast. Racing. Pounding in my chest.
There’s an utter silence. I took the chance to look around the room. The door in burnt umber color was ajar. Behind is a rack of canvasses…finished and unfinished paintings.
There were masks on the far side of the wall. Bright colored masks, feather masks…all with happy thoughts. The tapestries were in miraculously harmonious set of colors; heavy pigments of emerald green, mandarin orange, and purple.
My eyes finally rested upon a warm looking couch of deep crimson color. In it lies the white glove, the “bright-colored-patched” clothes she was wearing that afternoon. Beside the couch is an iron table and in it stood a lone figure of a clown---a dainty painted piece of ceramic.
“It’s not really a complicated job you see. Sometimes, it does really ease one’s burden…” perhaps reading my mind, I heard her say. I looked back at her and their was a glint of amusement in her beautiful round eyes which seemed to grow lighter yet darker at the same time.
Meekly, I smiled back. My very first real smile after what it seemed to me like an eternity! I was even more surprised than she was.
Then I remembered something.
“The balloons! You lost them because of me!” I nearly sprung to my feet upon remembering how the white balloons flew up into the air as soon as she let go of their strings to be able to pull me out of the red car’s way. I could almost see the flush of red creeping all over my face up to my ears.
She made a soft chuckling sound, and then looked at me teasingly.
“You’ll have to pay for it”
“Y-yeah of course! But h-how mu------?”
“It’s Sahara Jehan.Call me Sahara. How about you…what is your name?”
And before I knew it, there I am, very much at ease, entrusting her my name…and what it seemed to be my happiness.
Now what I am going to tell you next may seem to be atrocious that I would like to ask your whole open-mindedness as I went on with my story.
I would like to point out that I was drawn to her secretive charm instantly. As you know, my life had been so wasted before she came to me. The moment I stepped out of that curb to meet the fast approaching car, I’ve already told myself that it will be the end. But then she came and snatched me from the cold hands of death. And the drugs that curdles their way right into my veins were finally nothing compared to what I am now about to tell you.
Yes, I was drawn to her. The next day that I woke up in her chamber, I was finally accustomed to the colorful rayon of her laughter, her smiles, her presence, her life.
Sometimes she would play the violin with all those gay tones and harmony. And every time she wears her make up and dresses up like the jester that which she portrays; seeing the sad faces in each individuals disappear, I feel envious. Of what? I don’t exactly know. Of the people she entertains? The people who loves her? Or perhaps,
I am envious of Sahara Jehan herself. Of how she managed to live her life like that. I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m starting to see the world I was once deprived of.
Every now and then, she would sit beside me and read silently. And I would then study her in silence. For the third time, let me cite you this…..I was drawn to her….
Love her? Oh, but that’s too much of a word! But then, my mind would always wonder of what could possibly go on inside her mind. And as my mind wander, so does my eyes.
That night her hair was tied behind her with a black ribbon, showing the contour of her face more vividly. Her eyes were luminous under the soft lamplight. Her delicate lips somehow compliment the arrogance of her nose. She was holding the book in a not so delicate manner….engrossed of what she must be reading. A smile won over me as I thought of this….oh…but she looks even handsome rather than beautiful that way! Her white long sleeves crumpled up to the edges-------
Then she caught my eyes and we both stared at each other. My heart seemed to throb inside my head. Too much pounding. And too much silence for that matter, except for our hoarse breathing. Then slowly, her face came closer to mine….closer…closer….
Her lips brushed mine. Wanting to kiss but wouldn’t and she just kept me yearning for it.
“I have been inlove with no one, and never shall----- unless it should be with you…..”
She whispered in my ear. Her fingers brushing the hair off my brow. Then my eyes met hers. Mine bewildered and hers were twinkling with some sort of amusement. But what was that she just said? Love…oh yes…love her-------
But before I could speak, she suddenly got up and softly chuckled to herself. She looked at me as if nothing really happened.
“Ahh….isn’t it romantic? I have been inlove with no one, and never shall-----unless it should be with you… the very words of Carmilla towards her beloved.Oh…I should very much like to read the rest”
And as she threw me her most teasing smile, she picked the book once more and continued her reading and I was left dumbfounded, if not…embarrassed. For a moment, it’s as if I wanted to go back to that afternoon where the red car nearly hit me.
Love her….
And yet the drugs called out my name once more and this time I gladly obeyed.
It was then a bright sunny afternoon and I was left all alone. Or was I? For her shadow loomed above me as I was about to let the syringe kiss my skin. And my cheek tingled with sensation as she boldly slapped me like a small child. Her eyes looked so cold for the very first time. She stared at me with contemptuous animosity.
“Then the next thing I know, you’d be once again walking aimlessly down the street praying for another car to come and really hit you this time”
Her voice is neither that of a sweet-natured scold nor an angry one. It’s just so…apathetic. I couldn’t speak a word. The slap she gave me seems to have awoken me from a deep slumber. My eyes were fixed on one of those tiny roses peering across the crevice of the wall. Such a nice graffito…this white-petal rose---------
“I won’t lose another set of balloons just to pull you out from the streets from your attempted suicide…no, not again”
She knew it. She really knew that I did it on purpose. I saw the car approaching that afternoon and I intended to get hit by it. She knew it all along and yet she didn’t make me feel like a victim of any circumstances. She just made me feel… alright.
I looked up at her. She was bathed by the afternoon sun coming through the open window. Her face is almost like a shadow passing. A beautiful silhouette. And I was almost crying. Blubbering-----these words I do long wanted to tell her. Love her….
And before I end that chapter of my story, let me tell you that while I now write of these things, understand that my heart still grieves for that love I once lost. Jehan------ and you will later understand why I choose to call her that way instead of Sahara------ ah yes, Jehan…. I could almost feel the softness of her hair even as I now sit here alone. But before I meander lost of ways, let me go back to that scenery.
“Stop crying…it will do you no good” she said softly. Her tone has finally turned into that of a sympathetic friend. She kneeled down in front of me and wiped my tears with her thumb. Before I could help it, I buried my face into her neck and cried more shamelessly.
“I’m sorry..I’m so sorry!” I kept on wailing.
She held me close to her. And that very moment I finally made up my mind. There’s more to life than I had ever imagined. Definitely not the kind of life which she snatched away from me but the kind of life she was then trying to show me. And I have to find it on my own…
I looked up to her face. That dignified look on her never faltered.
And she was staring down at me lovingly! I tried to open my mouth. I tried to speak in vain.
“I…I’m going home..”
Still, her expression didn’t seem to change. It was as if she’s been expecting this and was now urging me to speak more.
“…and I promise. When I come back, I’m a better person…I promise!”
There was a glint of hope in her eyes. Her lips curved into a faint smile as she seems to trace my face with her finger as if trying to memorize every inch of it.
“Didn’t I tell you that I love you?” she said carefully.
I was a bit surprised. Had I known!
Her smile widened and it seemed to me that her eyes were brighter than before. Then she kissed me to my utter astonishment…this time, it’s for real I suppose. Not the prank joke she had once played on me. Or was it just a prank joke?
“Yes, I believe I told you that once before…..I have been inlove with no one------yes no one….’till then there was you….” She said almost talking to herself. As we both stood up, she finally turned her back and headed towards the door and stopped to look back and say:
“Go now until you are ready to return….this door will always be open for you” she smiled and finally she’s gone.
The little clown figure at the table grinned at me. Soon after, I left.
You think I gave up on her? That I’ve forgotten all about my promise? No, I haven’t….
It was then the month of June and the streets were always wet. I went up the stairs towards the door of her apartment. As expected, the door was open. The excitement rose inside of me to see a glimpse of warm light inside the room behind the burnt umber door. Slowly, I entered…adjusting the ribbon of my hair. I’m afraid the rain outside had finally messed it all up. I peeped inside and was quite disappointed to find no one. But then I could wait, perhaps she’s just somewhere and she’ll be back any moment.
I looked around and was mesmerized. The room hadn’t changed a bit. It was just like the way it looks the day I last had a glimpse of it…almost a year ago. As I was busy studying the rose graffito on the crevice----that which I was so long fond of---- I heard someone standing behind me.
I spun around and was again disappointed to see a stranger’s face. I frowned and so did the man standing in front of me.
“…could it be that you are the one mademoiselle Sahara was talking about?” the man said.
“W-where is she?” there was a lump on my throat. My mouth suddenly felt dry. The man took out an envelope from his old coat.
“This letter has been waiting for you for nine months now…”
The sight of it gave me an odd feeling. He gave it to me and with trembling hand; I took it from him and slowly tore open the old piece of paper….
It’s been years now since then….since I have last got a glimpse of her. And the letter the old man had given me is still stuck in my pocket up ‘till now. You must now know that it’s only been hours since I’ve found out that Sahara------my Jehan------ is already gone. So long gone…
Had I known that she’s been struggling for her life while I was then trying to waste it away? Now I feel miserable for it. Oh too miserable that I couldn’t control nor stop myself from crying as my hands clumsily scribble these words for you to comprehend. Her smiles back then….they were all like the masks she wore. The colors that enlighten every part of her were the only stolen happiness she then has…which she gladly shared with me….
“Stop crying…it will do you no good”
It’s as if I could still hear her voice inside my head…and she’s calling out my name…
Arraine…..
The white balloons….I could still see them flying up above me….up into the pale colored twilight.
----Tamielt Azrun-----
December 02,2008 02:29 am
