The Couch of Timeless Love

The Couch of Timeless Love

Mount Bald Eagle High, known for its mediocre sports teams, cafeteria food that tasted like barf, and surprisingly excellent drama program, was in the midst of a cataclysmic uproar. Mr. Bard, with his uncanny resemblance to the aforementioned bald eagle, and his eccentric but passionate teaching, was determined to bring the magic of Shakespeare to the lives of his perennially dormant students.

One of those students was a young teenager named Max. Max loved caterpillars, and the idea of hiding inside a cocoon for eternity had always fascinated him. His favorite book, even in the tumultuous waters of puberty, remained "The Very Hungry Caterpillar". But not because of its ending, no, no, no. Max loved the part of the caterpillar building the cocoon and stuffing himself inside it. Come to think of it, with his spiked hair and ever-attentive cowlick, he did resemble a caterpillar—albeit before the bug started eating up a storm. His classmates often teased him for his scrawny build, his eccentric red hair, and clumsy athletic ability. Max didn't even know how he ended up in the drama club, but there he found a crumb of solace. Despite often being relegated to the less glamorous roles of trees, servants, and once, much to his joy, a talking centipede.

This year, the drama club was putting on a production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream," and Max had once again been cast in a minor role—one of the many fairies. While he longed to play a leading role, he knew he didn’t have the confidence or charisma for it. Still, he loved the process, the rehearsals, and the bellowing voice of Mr. Bard.

As usual, the drama club was in desperate need of furniture for their set. Mr. Bard, ever resourceful, had scored a second-hand couch to be donated to the school. The couch was an ancient, overstuffed faded-green monstrosity that looked like it had seen better days, but it would do. The students groaned and bailed off the stage immediately, leaving Max to haul the couch onto the stage all by himself, the faded fabric and sagging cushions giving off a faint smell of mold and mystery.

As he puffed and panted with effort, grunting swear words under his breath, Max finally managed to drag the couch onto the stage where he noticed something peculiar. One of the cushions seemed unusually lumpy. Curiosity piqued, he reached down to adjust it, sinking his arm between the pillows with a look of disgusted dread pulling at his face. One could only imagine what lurked under those ancient cushions. To his astonishment, his hand touched something warm and soft. Before he could react, the couch burst open, and a young woman tumbled out, landing on the stage with a surprised yelp.

Max froze, staring at the girl who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. She was dressed in an elaborate, old-fashioned gown, her hair styled in intricate golden braids wrapped around her delicate head and pinned there with pearls. She looked around in bewilderment before her eyes settled on Max, who was still crouched by the couch, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“Where am I?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and a hint of an old-world accent.

“Uh, you’re in Mount Bald Eagle High School’s auditorium,” Max managed to stammer, not quite believing what he was seeing. “Who are you?”

The girl stood up, brushing off her dress and looking around with wide hazel eyes. “I’m Elizabeth, daughter of the Earl of Oxford. How did I get here?”

Max blinked, trying to process the situation. “You came out of the couch.”

Elizabeth frowned, glancing at the couch as if it might provide answers. “The last thing I remember, I was sitting in the drawing-room, feeling rather drowsy, and then... darkness. Now I’m here.”

Max scratched his red spiked hair. “What's an 'earl'?”

Elizabeth looked perplexed. “You don't know?” She took a look at his clothes. "Why are you dressed so peculiarly?"

Max dropped his eyes to his Eminem faded shirt and baggy jeans. He didn't see anything peculiar. "I am not the weirdo here. You, on the other hand, look like you could be in our production." He raised a finger to point at her velvet and satin gown.

Elizabeth blushed. "What's a 'production'?"

Max got up. “We’re putting on a play—a story written by a man named William Shakespeare. It’s called 'A Midsummer Night’s Dream.'”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Shakespeare! I know of him. His plays are quite popular in London. How fascinating to see one performed in such an unusual manner.”

Max couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Holy cow, it sounded like she came from the past! “Would you like to watch my rehearsal? I am one of the fairies.” He puffed up his chest in pride.

Elizabeth curtsied and nodded eagerly. “I would love that.”

As the rehearsal progressed, Elizabeth watched with rapt attention. Despite the strangeness of her situation, she seemed genuinely fascinated by the modern interpretation of Shakespeare’s work. Max couldn’t help but feel a growing admiration for her—she was poised, intelligent, and surprisingly adaptable.

During a break, Elizabeth approached Max. “You’re quite good,” she said, smiling warmly.

Max blushed. “Thanks, but I’m just a fairy. It’s not a big role.”

Elizabeth tilted her head, studying him. “Every role is important. Without the fairies, the magic of the play wouldn’t exist.”

Max hadn’t thought of it that way. “I guess you’re right.”

Over the next few days, Elizabeth helped Max, offering insights and suggestions. She seemed to have an innate understanding of Shakespearean language and staging, and her presence brought an air of authenticity to the production.

As Max spent more time with Elizabeth, he found himself opening up in ways he never had before. She was genuinely interested in his thoughts and dreams, and her encouragement gave him newfound confidence. They shared stories about their lives, and despite the centuries that separated them, they discovered a surprising amount in common. Including a shared love for crawling insects and nature.

One evening, as they sat together on the old couch, Max found himself feeling more at ease than he ever had before. “Elizabeth, do you ever miss your time? Your family and friends?”

Elizabeth sighed, a wistful look in her eyes. “Of course, I do. But I seem to be bound to the couch.”

Max looked at her. “How does it feel in there?” He tilted his head in the direction of the old couch. Elizabeth had been coming out only when Max was alone on stage. She was extremely bashful and didn't want any attention from the "modern" folks, as she described Max's classmates.

Elizabeth smiled softly. “It's a tad musty, but very comfortable. Cozy and snug, and time is of no importance.”

Max felt a lump in his throat. “Like a cocoon?” he murmured.

Elizabeth reached out and took his hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “Yes, exactly like a cocoon.”

The night of the performance arrived, and the cast was buzzing with nervous energy. Elizabeth had been a calming presence for Max who, in particular, felt a strange mix of excitement and anxiety. As the play began, Max felt a surge of confidence. He moved across the stage with a grace and assurance he had never felt before.

The audience, composed of teachers, students, and parents, erupted in applause at the end of the performance. Mr. Bard's shiny head blushed with pride, and the cast members hugged each other in celebration. Max felt a swell of emotion as he looked around the stage, his eyes searching for signs of Elizabeth. Then, remembering her bashfulness, he resigned to wait for her once everyone had gone.

He hid behind the heavy stage drapes and waited until even the security guard took his last round before walking softly to the couch in the darkened theater.

“You were wonderful, Max,” Elizabeth said, her voice filled with pride as he pulled her out.

Max sat down beside her. “Thank you.”

With a light, lingering kiss on his cheek, Elizabeth stepped back and bowed. Max took the hint and stepped closer. They began to dance slowly, the damsel and the fairy swirling in a slow embrace all around the silent stage, until Max summoned his courage and stopped. He bowed and kept Elizabeth's hand in his, leading her back to the couch.

"Take me with you," he whispered.

Elizabeth's mouth fell open in surprise, but in her eyes, Max could see she was already agreeing to the crazy idea. She looked around the shadowy auditorium, her eyes falling on the old couch where it all began. It still looked as worn and mismatched as ever, but now it held a special gift.

Without any further ado, Elizabeth took a step closer to the couch and pulled at Max's hand.