I. In Which Our Heroine Is Charged
"Prisoner Number One Thousand Five Hundred and Sixty-Two."
Somebody shoved Melinda at the bailiff's call, and she stumbled forward into the spotlight in the center of the dimly lit room. She glared at whoever was behind her, then quickly tued her attention to her surroundings. Everyone's gaze zeroed in on her, making her feel like a bear on a circus stage.
Maybe I should sing and dance
, she thought sourly.
Or just growl and look scary, so they'll let me go.
A small old man in a black robe leaned forward in a high seat behind a wooden podium and peered at her over his half-moon glasses. She thought he should fix the wig sitting crooked on his head, but decided not to say anything that might prejudice him against her. Besides who was she to critique his appearance? She was in the pink Little Mermaid pajamas her niece had given her for Christmas, for gosh sakes.
"Is this the right prisoner?" the judge said.
"Yes, Your Honor," a smartly dressed police porcupine said from the witness stand. "We caught her red-handed in
Beauty and the Beast."
"What was she doing?"
"Hiding behind the red rose bushes in the main entrance to the castle and
spying
on Beauty's father and His Highness the Beast," the porcupine answered, quills quivering.
"How dreadful. How did you become aware of her alien presence in the story, sergeant?"
"She tripped and fell."
Melinda heard low snickers from everyone around her and felt her face turn red. The judge merely tsked and rifled through a stack of papers in front of him. "Charge?"
The prosecutor unfolded six feet seven inches of emaciation, his pale narrow face pinched with disapproval. The light glared on his greased black hair as he said, "Misdemeanor: trespassing."
Melinda raised her hand. "Hold on a minute."
The judge went on like she hadn't spoken, "How do you plead?"
"I want a lawyer."
"That is not the right response," the judge said sternly. "You plead either guilty or not guilty."
"I have rights."
"You do not. This is under Fairy Tale Jurisdiction."
"Look, Your Honor," she said, using her most reasonable and no-nonsense tone of voice, the one that never failed to work with the young students in her class. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble. You'll probably think it sounds crazy or something, but I've been able to enter fairy tales just by reading them and imagining what the story world was like ever since I was a small girl. I have no idea how. My friends can't do it--"
"Perhaps because they are too polite to trespass, Miss...?"
"Lightfoot, Your Honor. Melinda Lightfoot. But--"
"Miss Melinda Lightfoot of...?" When she just stared at him, he said, "Town name for the record?"
"Oh. Bolinsville. Bolinsville, Virginia, U.S.A. As I was saying--"
The judge held up a hand to stop her as the bailiff rose to his feet.
"His Highness, the Beast!"
The crowd of shepherds and fairy tale critters, including a crowned frog, oohed and aahed as the double doors to the courtroom were flung open, and the Beast marched toward the spotlight...toward Melinda. His magnificent golden mane moved with each step, a royal purple cape billowing behind him. He didn't have his claws out, but there was an electrifying presence to him that made her mouth dry. A small hope bloomed inside Melinda. He had to be here to tell the judge how mistaken he was to charge her, how she hadn't done anything wrong and how she was a lover of fairy tales. The hope withered just as quickly as it had blossomed when she saw the expression in the Beast's narrowed green eyes. She gulped.
"Your Highness, this is rather out of protocol," the judge said mildly, while the court waited with bated breath for what the cursed prince had to say. "You needn't trouble yourself like this. We have enough witnesses--"
"I am here to demand that you charge her with kidnapping!" the Beast roared, pointing at Melinda.
Melinda couldn't believe her ears. "What?!"
Her rather pathetic response was lost in the
"Prisoner Number One Thousand Five Hundred and Sixty-Two."
Somebody shoved Melinda at the bailiff's call, and she stumbled forward into the spotlight in the center of the dimly lit room. She glared at whoever was behind her, then quickly tued her attention to her surroundings. Everyone's gaze zeroed in on her, making her feel like a bear on a circus stage.
Maybe I should sing and dance
, she thought sourly.
Or just growl and look scary, so they'll let me go.
A small old man in a black robe leaned forward in a high seat behind a wooden podium and peered at her over his half-moon glasses. She thought he should fix the wig sitting crooked on his head, but decided not to say anything that might prejudice him against her. Besides who was she to critique his appearance? She was in the pink Little Mermaid pajamas her niece had given her for Christmas, for gosh sakes.
"Is this the right prisoner?" the judge said.
"Yes, Your Honor," a smartly dressed police porcupine said from the witness stand. "We caught her red-handed in
Beauty and the Beast."
"What was she doing?"
"Hiding behind the red rose bushes in the main entrance to the castle and
spying
on Beauty's father and His Highness the Beast," the porcupine answered, quills quivering.
"How dreadful. How did you become aware of her alien presence in the story, sergeant?"
"She tripped and fell."
Melinda heard low snickers from everyone around her and felt her face turn red. The judge merely tsked and rifled through a stack of papers in front of him. "Charge?"
The prosecutor unfolded six feet seven inches of emaciation, his pale narrow face pinched with disapproval. The light glared on his greased black hair as he said, "Misdemeanor: trespassing."
Melinda raised her hand. "Hold on a minute."
The judge went on like she hadn't spoken, "How do you plead?"
"I want a lawyer."
"That is not the right response," the judge said sternly. "You plead either guilty or not guilty."
"I have rights."
"You do not. This is under Fairy Tale Jurisdiction."
"Look, Your Honor," she said, using her most reasonable and no-nonsense tone of voice, the one that never failed to work with the young students in her class. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble. You'll probably think it sounds crazy or something, but I've been able to enter fairy tales just by reading them and imagining what the story world was like ever since I was a small girl. I have no idea how. My friends can't do it--"
"Perhaps because they are too polite to trespass, Miss...?"
"Lightfoot, Your Honor. Melinda Lightfoot. But--"
"Miss Melinda Lightfoot of...?" When she just stared at him, he said, "Town name for the record?"
"Oh. Bolinsville. Bolinsville, Virginia, U.S.A. As I was saying--"
The judge held up a hand to stop her as the bailiff rose to his feet.
"His Highness, the Beast!"
The crowd of shepherds and fairy tale critters, including a crowned frog, oohed and aahed as the double doors to the courtroom were flung open, and the Beast marched toward the spotlight...toward Melinda. His magnificent golden mane moved with each step, a royal purple cape billowing behind him. He didn't have his claws out, but there was an electrifying presence to him that made her mouth dry. A small hope bloomed inside Melinda. He had to be here to tell the judge how mistaken he was to charge her, how she hadn't done anything wrong and how she was a lover of fairy tales. The hope withered just as quickly as it had blossomed when she saw the expression in the Beast's narrowed green eyes. She gulped.
"Your Highness, this is rather out of protocol," the judge said mildly, while the court waited with bated breath for what the cursed prince had to say. "You needn't trouble yourself like this. We have enough witnesses--"
"I am here to demand that you charge her with kidnapping!" the Beast roared, pointing at Melinda.
Melinda couldn't believe her ears. "What?!"
Her rather pathetic response was lost in the
Similar Books
