By Cheryl Rushing

The following is my entry in the WritersWeekly Winter 2009 24-hour Short Story Contest:

“If any of you can show just cause why they should not be married, speak now; or else for ever hold your peace.”

A cough at the door of the chapel door made them all turn.  The pastor shot his wife a concerned look.

Suddenly the dark foyer was filled with pale pink light.  A dazzling woman emerged, looking like a cross between a jewelry box ballerina and Glinda the Good Witch.

The pastor cleared his throat.  ”I thought I told you not to come back here.” he addressed the apparition.

The witch moved closer, filling the room with the same pale pink glow.  She came within an arm’s length of the bride and groom and stopped,smiling at them.

“Who are you?”  the bride asked.

“I am the Marriage Fairy, my dear.  I am here to save you.”

“To save me?”  the bride looked confused.

The pastor shoved roughly between the couple and shook his finger at the fairy.  ”I told you not to come back here!”

“What is the meaning of this?” the groom demanded.  He side-stepped the pastor and took his shaken bride by the arm.

“I don’t understand what’s going on,”  the bride whimpered.

“I am here to save you, my dear.  You are making a terrible mistake,” the fairy started to come closer, then pointed her star-shaped pink wand at the pastor and the groom.  Pink sparks shot from the end, and both men were pushed backward a few feet.  When they tried to recover, they were rooted in place.

The pastor’s wife began to twitter and flutter a handkerchief in front of her face.  ”Oh dear, oh dear!”

“I’m not making a mistake,” the bride said, lifting her chin.  ”I’m marrying the man of my dreams.”

“Oh, my sweet deluded girl,” the fairy giggled.  ”You’re no different from any other bride.”

“I think you should leave,” the groom said.  He was rewarded with a shower of pink sparks, and a span of pink duct tape appeared over his mouth.

“Dear child, you must listen to me.  You cannot marry this man.  The consequences would be dire!”

“How dare you say such a thing about the man I love!”

“Let me show you,” the fairy said.  She stepped closer to the bride and held out her hands.  ”Do you want to see?”

The bride thought for a moment and nodded.  The fairy placed her hands on the bride’s cheeks, and told her to close her eyes.

When she did, she found a movie inside her eyelids.  There she was with her husband on their honeymoon.  There he was carrying her over the threshold of an impressive house in an exclusive gated community.  Then they were having candlelit dinners, and soon her belly began to swell with a baby.

As the baby grew, her husband began to spend more time at the office.   He stopped bringing flowers and picking up his dirty socks.  As she aged her hips widened and her face cracked with wrinkles, while her husband grew more dashing.  She saw him stepping out with beautiful young women, while she sat at home trying to keep his dinner warm.  Finally, she saw him packing his things and leaving her crying and alone.

The fairy took her hands away, and wiped tears from the bride’s cheeks.  ”There, there, my sweet.  It doesn’t have to be that way.”

The bride gulped back a sob.  ”That was awful.  I can’t possibly marry him.”

“That’s right, my dear.  It would be a terrible mistake.”  The fairy smiled and turned away, but the bride grabbed her sleeve.

“Wait!” she cried.  ”Show me the man I’m meant to marry, so I can go and find him.”

The fairy stopped short, back rigid.  She took a deep breath, turned back to the bride and smiled, showing her perfect white teeth.  ”I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.”

“What do you mean?” the bride asked.

“I can only save you from making the mistake.  Finding the right man is up to you.”

The bride crossed her arms across her bodice and glared at the fairy.  ”So you can come in here and ruin my wedding by showing me what a horrible marriage this will be, but you can’t show me the man I’m supposed to marry?”

The fairy nodded.  ”That’s right.”

The bride thought about this for a long moment.  Then she took a breath, turned her back on the fairy and nodded at the pastor.  ”Let’s get this show on the road.”  She walked over to the groom and took his hand.

“But wait!” the fairy said.  ”What are you doing?”

The bride looked back over her shoulder.  ”Marrying this man.  You showed me what the future might be like with this man, but not who would be better for me.”

“You would marry him, even knowing what the future holds?”

The bride smiled at her future husband.  ”That would have been my future if you hadn’t shown it to me.  But now?  I can change it.”

The following is my entry in the WritersWeekly Summer 2008 24-hour Short Story Contest.  I won a door prize, which is better than what I won in the winter contest – nothing!  A list of winners is at that link.  Here is the entry:

Patsy Puddles

“Mama! Mama! Come quick!” she heard Emma call from the den.

The urgency in Emma’s voice made Stacy’s heart skip a beat. She sprinted into the next room, still holding the dish towel. “What? What’s wrong?”

Emma pointed to the TV. “That’s what I want for Christmas.”

On the screen was an advertisement for a large baby doll, complete with carriage and bottle. The commercial was just ending, showing a blonde girl lovingly cradling the doll, and the announcer said, “Find Patsy Puddles at these fine retailers,” and a list of them appeared on the screen.

“Mama, can we go see Santa right now?” Emma asked. She sat on the carpet, still in her pink tutu, little sweat soaked curls dried around her face and neck. Juice box and small bowl of fish shaped crackers had been abandoned.

Stacy smiled at her. “Go take a bath,” she said. “I’ll finish the dishes and then we’ll go.”

“OK!” Emma jumped up and raced into the bathroom.

Stacy sighed as she returned to the kitchen. Patsy Puddles. She wondered how much it was. She wondered if she’d be able to afford it with the rent already late and her hours cut back at work. Thankfully her mother had paid for the ballet lessons, or that would have to stop, too.

At least the trip to the mall was free. Maybe they’d even get a pretzel to share. Emma loved that.

The Santa line was long and winding. Harried parents tried to corral itchy children as they inched slowly towards the big man. Emma was impatient, but amused herself by dancing awkwardly in her snow boots, flailing her skinny arms to keep from falling over backwards.

Emma had found a couple of girls to play with. Their voices rang out over the crowd like church bells. “I’m going to ask Santa for a PatsyPuddles doll,” Emma said.

“Me, too! Me, too!” crowed the other girls.

The mother behind Stacy sighed. “Patsy Puddles,” she muttered bitterly.

Stacy turned to her. “Yours wants one, too?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “Every little girl on the planet wants one. But they must have stopped making them in 1995 because every place I’ve been to is sold out.”

Stacy frowned. “Even Toy-porium on Juniper?”

“Even Toy-porium. He says he sold out his last one in June and hasn’t been able to secure another shipment.”

Stacy shook her head. The line continued to inch, and finally they were at the front. Emma threw herself into the big man’s lap and told him what she wanted. She slid off his lap and minced down the stairs.

“He says I have to be a very good girl, Mama.”

“Do you think you can do that?”

Emma looked at her for a moment and shrugged.

They passed three toy stores on the way out, all proclaiming sales, each with a prominently featured display sign that said “Patsy Puddles: SOLD OUT.”

When she got home she called her mother. “I’ve been everywhere, Stacy. Absolutely everywhere. No one has that doll.”

For the next few days Emma was a dream child. She would help with the dishes, pick up her toys, even turn down the TV whenever asked. Each night she prayed to Santa, reminding him how good she was.

Stacy did all she could at the restaurant. She tried to pick up extra shifts, and one afternoon hit pay dirt, overhearing two women talking about a toy store she’d never heard of in the next town over. Apparently it was a creepy little place, nearly hidden from view, but they were known to have toys you couldn’t find anywhere else.

She told them about her daughter’s Patsy Puddles obsession, and they laughed. “I doubt he’ll have that,” one of the women said. But just the same, when Stacy cleared the table she found a $20 bill tucked into a napkin with the words “For Emma’s present,” written on it. The doll was nearly twice that, but if she could find it and put it on layaway or something, she’d be all set.

She drove to the next town and found the store after passing it twice. As she walked in a bell tinkled overhead. There was one other woman in the store, paying for her purchases at the front counter.

Stacy perused the shelves and found 3 Patsy Puddles dolls tucked in a corner. The other woman was paying for one, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before they were all gone. She took the doll up to the counter to ask about layaway.

“Sorry, we don’t have layaway,” the clerk told her.

“Thanks anyway,” she said. Three other people entered the store. The clerk turned to them and Stacy headed back to the corner. She noticed an empty spot behind the puzzles on a low shelf and she tucked the bright pink box behind them, out of view.

Hopefully it would still be there next week when she got paid.

“This is NOT for sale!” the old man boomed. Stacy sat up in bed with a start. She’d been having the same dream all week.

She swung her arm over the edge of the bed and rooted around underneath it, pulling out the garish pink box. She breathed a sigh of relief. Just a dream.

They’d have a Merry Christmas after all.