A Mouse's Tale

I was just eating. That's all. I mean, I was smelling what I was eating too. And I was thinking about how nice the evening was. It was cool but not too cold to be out. Frost was on the wind, but not on the ground. Gourds and pumpkins littered the household garden along with turnips, cabbages, and parsnips. The squash smelled so sweet and inviting, their vines still green though their leaves were starting to brown.

I just couldn't stand it anymore. I had to sample the produce. So, I sneaked out there with my friend, Squeaks. I go by Squeals, but sometime we get mixed up. We're both little brown field mice and when there's a lot of use together, I can understand how that can be confusing.

Anyway, I just wanted a bite of pumpkin. Just a bite. It's so earthy and fresh when it's on the vine. And it fills your stomach so much you feel like you won't have to eat for the rest of the day—but of course, that's not true. I think that particular problem has to do with our really small stomachs. They fill up fast and then empty even quicker, especially since we're so small and it takes us much longer to get places. I once thought about traveling but the practicality of that... well, that's not really the point.

The Point is that I was just out for an evening snack when—out of nowhere—this older woman shows up. She was not very tall and was wearing a thick red cloak. Her hood covered most of her face, but there was an odd light that seemed to follow as she moved. It wasn't like a candle light that flickers with the wind. It was more like an internal glow that was mostly hidden by her cloak.

On a normal night, I wouldn't have thought much about her because she's a human and I'm just a mouse, but she stopped right by the garden and looked at us. I mean, Squeaks and me. She actually looked at us feasting on the largest pumpkin in the garden and then she smiled.

It was a weird smile too because she didn't look as old as I had thought. Her skin was smooth and her face fair. There were golden locks sticking out from beneath her drawn hood and not a hint of gray. But that smile and the crinkles around her eyes said she had seen a lot of time pass. I had to blink a bit to take it all in, but on that last blink she was gone.

I mean, she went somewhere. I assume she went inside the house, but I was a bit too stunned and still too hungry to consider doing anything else but eat. So that's what I did—until she appeared again. And I mean she appeared.

One moment it was quiet and we were alone and the next she was back in the garden. This time, however, she had someone with her. There was another young woman—although she was not as clean or well-kept.

The skinny blond girl's clothes and apron were patched and covered in dust. Even her face was smudged with what smelled like ash from a fireplace. She appeared to be one of the servants that worked in the manor house Squeaks and I lived under and from what I could tell was nice enough; but she was a human and that's about as far as I gave her any thought. Of course, that changed when she appeared in the garden with the cloaked woman.

Because no sooner had the two entered the garden then the cloaked woman told the girl—I gathered her name was Cinderella—to fetch her the largest pumpkin. And of course she found the one Squeaks and I were eating from.

Her smudged hands reached for the orange shell as we ducked into the hole we had chewed open. Even though we could not see out, we could feel the way her arms shook as she carried it out of the garden. There was an excitement in her gait and a hitch in her breath as if she was waiting for something to happen.

Then we were on the ground again.

The next thing that occurred is kind of hard to explain because as Squeaks and I peered at each other—wondering if it was now safe to move—the pumpkin began to shake. It was like an earthquake. It tipped one way and then the other. The shell crackled and sparked. Its sides pressed outward as it expanded in size. The fleshy meat that we had been feasting on began to shrink and dry. It grew pale and hard, the seeds clinging to the shell moving into a cluster upon the ceiling as if a chandelier in a grand house. Stars pulsed about the hole we had made.

At that point, Squeaks and I were terrified. Never in over a hundred generations of mouse descendants had there ever been such a tale as this. And I can tell you that as a mouse, we have enough tails to go around and each one has their own set of tales.

Anyway, the two of us plunged from the hole before the opening in the pumpkin got too big and too far out of reach. We tumbled onto the ground breathless then turned back to look at the pumpkin we had been having for dinner.

But that pumpkin was not really a pumpkin anymore. It was too large to be a pumpkin and yet it still resembled it. The color of the shell had faded to a golden-bronze that shimmered in the moon's light. The top of its stem was longer now, stretching down its back before it split into separate vines that curved into wheels. The opening that we had chewed in the shell was now a door that revealed an interior large enough for a human to fit in.

I know my eyes were wide because Squeaks tapped my jaw with his paw. I closed my mouth then looked at the woman in the cloak. Her eyes were on us again and there was a kindness in her gaze that drew our focus from the mischievous smile on her lips.

The next thing I knew there was a really bright light. It filled my vision and the space around me. My ears felt clogged. A sensation flashed through each of my limbs that was not exactly painful, but it was not pleasant either. I felt myself expand and grow. All four of my limbs doubled in size, then tripled. Muscles grew in places I had never needed them before. Then the digits on my paws shrank into a solid mass that hardened. I could feel the fur on my body shrink away as the hairs on the top of my head and back of my neck grew like grass in the rain.

I pinched my eyes shut, my chest pulling in more air. It felt like my lungs would explode. I was dizzy and sick from all the sensations. Then all at once it stopped.

I swayed on my feet, my exhalation loud in my ears. I twisted them back and forth. Then I peeled my eyes open.

The compacted dirt of the garden lay just beyond my nose. I blinked at it. Then I blinked at my nose. There were no longer long whiskers to twitch nor a pointed nose. I inhaled a deep breath watching as the round muzzle at the end of my face moved.

Next to me I could hear shuffling. It was the odd woman in the cloak. She approached with Cinderella at her heels. Her palms were open and her eye warm. I found I could not back up or look away. Fear raced through my chest as she reached for me. But her touch was light and gentle on my skin.

But it wasn't the right kind of skin. I was not hairy enough! I felt bare and exposed.

Cinderella moved to my side where her hands traced a path from my neck down my back. It felt odd to be touched by them. And the fact that they were so small compared to me was even harder to grasp.

A snort broke the silence at my rear and I turned to see a large brown horse. I startled, my feet smacking the ground as I shied away. It was then that I really looked down at myself.

Where once I had paws, I now had hooves. I also stood tall enough to look between my legs and see a long tail that swished as I thought about it.

My eyes widened.

I was a horse! I was an actual horse. I was going to be sick.

I staggered in realization, but the odd woman was there with her hand on my side. She had a calming effect and I stood still as she traced lines along my back and sides. Then her fingers moved to my head and nose. Straps of fabric appeared wherever she brushed my skin, the motion creating reigns and a harness about me. Yet for some reason I cannot explain, I did not seem to care. Nor did I mind when she brought me up next to Squeaks—I mean, it had to be him because we were the only two mice in that pumpkin.

Lucky us. We were both caught up in some magical nonsense just because we were hungry. Although we weren't the only ones to be. A frog joined our midst in a short human body, clothed in a uniform of green and gold. I honestly, think he got the better end of the deal.

I then thought about what all of this would mean for our future. Were we always going to be horses now? Where would we live? What were we going to eat? How much did we need to eat? I had no idea how to care for a mane and tail nor did I know how to deal with having hooves for feet.

I honestly don't know if Squeaks had any of these thoughts himself or if he even cared that he was now a horse, but I was having some real anxious concerns.

It was then that I saw Cinderella.

My mouth gaped, for she was no longer the dirty servant girl I had seen moments before. In all my questioning and worrying I had completely missed the fact that Cinderella had also changed. She was still human—lucky for her—but she was clean and dressed up. Her face was cleaned of dirt, her cheeks pink and eyes bright. The mess that had been her hair was now combed and twisted on top of her head. A sparkling tiara nestled amongst a wad of curls and ringlets hung down either side of her face.

The dress she wore was stunning. It was pale in color with a trace of green winding through the full skirt and bodice. Sleeves fell like drapes at her shoulders and a necklace that matched her tiara hung from her bare neck. She twirled in place, the fullness of the skirt glimmering in the moon's light. And then she laughed. It was such a pleasant and playful laugh, that I found I could not be upset by my situation. In fact, I couldn't even think about it as the cloaked woman hooked Squeaks and me to the front of the enlarged pumpkin.

"Back before the last stroke of midnight," were the instructions to Cinderella. "That's when the magic will run out."

She gave me a pointed look then helped Cinderella into the pumpkin. The frog—that was now a man—climbed up next and gathered the reigns attached to our harnesses. With the flick of the straps, I felt a surge of panic because I didn't know anything about being a horse. I might now be a horse, but I didn't know the least bit about walking or even running like one!

My stomach dropped as the man-frog flipped the reigns again. Then suddenly we were moving—Squeaks and I—we were trotting like two well-bred stallions. It was absolutely amazing and terrifying at the same time. My legs just moved like they had been trained to it. I was overcome, yet the adventure became even more amazing as we moved through the dark fields and pastures.

The countryside was huge! As a mouse I never would've been able to see even a quarter of what passed beneath my legs. But here we were taking dirt roads that wound through patches of trees and by stately manors. And up ahead loomed the castle. A real castle! Who even knew there was a castle?

Okay, I mean, I knew there was a castle and a king and all that, but I never thought I'd ever have to care let alone get a chance to see the place where royals lived. I was just a mouse after all—or rather—I was a mouse.

When we finally pulled up to the castle, we could hear music coming from inside. All the windows were lit with candles. The path leading up to the large stone steps was lined with lanterns and servants holding candelabras.

One of them stepped up to help Cinderella down from the pumpkin before he passed her off to another. When he turned back to us, you could tell he wasn't sure what to think about our impromptu carriage. But he was polite and said nothing about it. Instead, he told the man-frog to follow the path around to the stables where he could give us some food and water.

It sounded like a nice idea to me, but the man-frog seemed to have other ideas for he did not take the path around the side of castle nor did he take us to the stables as instructed. Using the reigns to turn us around, he brought the carriage back to the front. We stopped a ways from the main entrance but were still within sight of the door.

I sighed. I wanted to try the different types of grain the castle surely kept on hand. But deep down I could tell this was the right move. It was already dark and if Cinderella only had till midnight before all this magical hooey wore off, it made sense to be close.

I swear I tried to remain awake, but at some point I must have dosed off just standing there because the next thing I knew there was a resounding bell. I jolted awake and could hear Squeaks pawing the ground next to me. He nodded his muzzle at the stone stairs with a snort nicker. Cinderella was coming out of the castle limping as if in pain. Behind her was a man dressed in fine clothes.

The reign upon our backs flicked as a second bell chimed.

We were to the steps and had her inside the pumpkin before the end of the third bell.

Across the fields and back down the dusty streets we went. There was an urgency in our departure. I could feel it in every muscle and bone I processed. I knew Squeaks could feel it too. The magic was beginning to fade.

It was like the ache from an over-used muscle. I could feel my long legs tremble as we ran. And we ran, really ran. We ran as hard as we could, trying to get back to the manor house garden before the last bell.

But by the tenth bell we could go no further. The frame of our horse bodies had shrunk to half our previous size, the pumpkin barely big enough for Cinderella to curl up in. What had once been wheels returned to vines and with the next roll of the pumpkin its shell cracked open.

Cinderella—whose dress had dissolved back into her servant's attire—tumbled from the shrinking shell. She rolled across the ground and into the fields with a cry.

The frog—who was now almost back to normal size—sprang from the wreckage leaving me and Squeaks to trip over our shortening limbs.

Then at the last toll of the bell, we flopped onto our bellies heaving. Our fur had returned to normal, so had our whiskers and tail. As I shook the dust from my back, I looked up to see Cinderella approach.

I cowered at her tremendous height. I wanted to run. I wanted to get into the grass and disappear from view, but I couldn't move. I was too tired from all the running—from the whole experience. I had been a horse! And now I was a mouse again.

Yes, four paws, twitching nose, and a soft underbelly. I was back to normal. Even Squeaks looked the same. But everything had changed for us. Now I knew there was not just the manor and garden but a whole world out there with different people, even a castle. It was too much for my small mind, yet for a short time I had experienced something no other mouse would ever believe—except Squeaks, of course.

With a careful edge, Cinderella knelt on the ground next to us and spread out her apron. In it was a shoe that sparkled like cut glass. Our friend the frog croaked from within its depths, his glossy skin giving the shoe a green shine.

"Well," she said, "it was nice while it lasted. Perhaps we should go home now."

Squeaks nudged my side then sauntered onto her apron. I brushed dirt from my nose then flicked my whiskers. This adventure had clearly come to an end, and while I wasn't certain I would ever want to experience something like that again, I couldn't deny it had been one I would never forget.