Cinderella and the Fairy Crocodile, part 1
An instant after the wildebeest rushed out of the courtyard, one of the starry points of the upper heaven pierced through the clouds. It grew brighter and larger and nearer, till out of its brightness stepped a glowing lady with gold hair and a filmy dress.
“Where is the child?” she asked of nobody, for she had not seen the small crocodile at her feet.
The fairy crocodile swallowed. “She’s stepped out, I’m afraid.”
The glowing lady bent. She saw the fairy crocodile. “She should be here, crying,” – a brightness indicated the spot where Cinderella had wept.
“Well,” the fairy crocodile said, in a small, nervous voice. “She isn’t.”
The tall creature swept past her. “I am Cinderella’s fairy godmother.” She turned. “Who are you?” Her voice had hooks and claws, which she fastened on the fairy crocodile.
The fairy crocodile drew a heart in the dirt with her scaly foot.
“Well?” the towering one gleamed.
“I am her fairy crocodile-mother,” the fairy crocodile said.
“A fairy crocodile-mother!” the other snorted. “Bah! Who ever heard of it. Cinderella was not spawned by swamp things.”
The fairy crocodile-mother began to cry. Now crocodile tears (as everyone mostly knows) are very large. In mere seconds, they had pooled in the center of the courtyard.
The other fairy godmother waved her wand and the pool was full of rainbow fish. “Stop!” she hurled at the darkness, and raised her gleaming hand. “Enough!”
The fairy crocodile stopped weeping.
On the glimmering surface of her tears, above the rainbow fish, swirling half images appeared. “Show me the ball,” the colossal one said, and fluttering lights trembled into view.
The fairy crocodile snuffled and drew near. They leaned over the pond, the tall luminous fairy and the tiny, fat one with a red gleam on her wand – and saw wildebeest rush into the palace garden. They saw Cinderella struggle free in her warm layers of clothes.
“What is this?” the luminous tall one shrieked.
But the fairy crocodile had regained her courage on seeing Cinderella. “I’d like to see her sisters try to tear that apart!” she crowed. “I’d like to see anyone else at the ball as sensibly dressed! The prince is a fool if he doesn’t fall in love with her.”
“The prince is a fool,” Cinderella’s real godmother snapped. “That is why he must be lured by skimpy gowns and glass shoes. You have ruined everything.”
“I won’t have her mince around in slippery shoes, catching her death of cold – not to be queen of any realm,” said the fairy crocodile stoutly. “I’d rather see her in three layers of long underthings and two pairs of socks, the wife of a nice baker.”
“Silence!” the other commanded. “Look!”
For Cinderella was being announced in the great hall…
In the terrible pause after Cinderella was announced, as she stood at the top of the stairs, her real godmother tried to change her appearance. “Let her dress be all that’s fair, set a fashion with her hair,” she whispered. But it didn’t work.
“My spell holds till the stroke of twelve.”’ the fairy crocodile said, her many teeth chattering at the hem of the other’s dress. “It won’t unbind till midnight.” She tried to sound apologetic, but she was very pleased.
“Then we shall just have to fix this the other way around,” the long one icily replied.
The whole hall stood hushed, gazing up at the landing. Words had trailed off, mid-sentence. Food was suspended between hands and mouths, impaled on tiny gold forks. All these open mouths and pieces of flatware trembled on the surface of the fairy crocodile’s tears.
“Let those who look on her behold the image by which they are ruled!” Cinderella’s godmother whispered, waving her wand. And nothing changed. No one spoke, no one moved. Cinderella stood alone, the leafy fringes of her hair wavering slightly.
At last, the prince shook himself. He stepped toward Cinderella, and held out his hand. Other people, too, began to move. The fairy godmother sighed. “Then that’s all right.” She waved her wand and the pond of crocodile tears swirled back to reflecting snowfall.
“If she remembers to leave before her dress turns to tatters, it will be all right,” the fairy crocodile sniffed. “Otherwise she’ll catch her death…”
“Oh, I have made it all right even if she should forget.” The gleaming fairy drew herself even taller, like a flame. “My spell will hold long past midnight. It won’t matter what she wears: everyone who sees her will see whatever beauty they desire, and tatters won’t hinder their vision any more than those trappings you whipped up…”
She shuddered disdainfully out of sight.
The Joseph Tree, a collection of poems, is available from Wiseblood. For a preview of West of Moonlight, East of Dawn, her retelling of an old fairy tale, visit westofmoonlight.art.
- Cinderella and the Fairy Crocodile, part 2: The Middle - January 15, 2025
- Cinderella and the Fairy Crocodile, part 1: The Beginning - January 8, 2025
- A Cinderella Heart - September 9, 2024
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