Ignored but Accepted

Cecelia hiked up the rickety, creaky wooden stairs, and stomped into her bedroom after her parents, Evan and Carry all swept out of the house to yet another one of their extravagant parties at one of the extravagant ballrooms in Washington D.C. She threw open her closet door and started folding her clothes like her parents had asked when they prepared for that so-called party of parties.          

Whatever! Cecelia tossed the shirt aimlessly onto the wooden floor behind her, growling to herself about how her parents didn’t see her own needs.                 

“They don’t care.” Cecelia plucked up and folded pants and then tossed them onto the shirt. “That I…” she sighed. “that I’m their daughter!”      

She shook a sweater angrily and then looked at the wooden floor, dropping her arms. Did she actually have what it took to show her family that she was more than just a shut-in, a clothes-folding, dishwashing, gardening, weed-uprooting, ironing daughter, sibling and sister?  

Cecelia dropped the sweater as she walked out of her room and towards the stairs. She descended quickly, eager for a snack. As she lunged from the last step, Cecelia grinned when a mass of dust cascaded onto the foyer floor right underneath it.           

“That’s all the dust on their fashionable clothes!” Cecelia jogged into the kitchen past the black and white marble bar table and black metal stools and entered the pantry. She grabbed the box of Cheez-Its and escaped back up to her room, breaking the cover open and diving her other hand into the package. As she brought out a fistful of the deliciousness and sprinkled them into her mouth, Cecelia spotted her Senior Girl Scout uniform’s forest green’s shirt sleeve mercifully not being suffocated underneath the remaining clothes. But she would get to it later—just like her growing list of homework, Scout meeting preparations, running, jogging and other activities her parents reminded her were just as important as the next high school sophomore’s life activities.                    

But Cecelia swallowed her mouthful and put the box down. Pulling out the shirt, however, uncovered a peach cloth with golden edges.

“Huh! That’s weird.” Cecelia snatched this item and pulled with both arms.     

And pulled.

It was, strangely, really heavy. Cecelia heaved with all her strength, but sweat started forming on her forehead.

“I’ll just pick it up.” She wiped at it with the back of a hand and continued.

I’m going to show this thing to the other outcasts in our troop. We’re going to attend college together. I’ll even lead my own group of girl scouts, all of whom will accept each other for who they are once they know what this thing is all about!       

Cecelia decided to lift it. Suddenly, she thudded backward onto the floor, but this mini-explosion was drowned out by her own yell. White-hot pain had shot through her socked foot to her brain like fireworks screaming up into the late-night sky. Cecelia yanked her foot from underneath the cloth. She squeezed it, clenching teeth together.         

“That hurt!” Cecelia blamed the object. She rocked herself back to her feet and then stared at the object. Now really seeing it, Cecelia gaped as a wooden chestnut piece of cloth folded in half stared back at her. Forgetting all pain, Cecelia wondered how this mysterious object could’ve ended up in this house—no, here in her room.     

Maybe if I lift this part, it won’t be so heavy. So Cecelia picked up the golden edge and opened the whole thing. Inside was an empty box. No lid stared back at her. Nevertheless, Cecelia decided, for some reason, to get on her knees and reach down into it. It went farther than she had thought, and then, without really thinking, hopped up and then leaped right into it.   

She waited. Nothing happened. Then Cecelia opened her eyes. She was standing in a closet, its wall circling her. Panicking, Cecelia banged on the door in front of her. “Let me out!” She cried.   

The doorknob twisted and moved away from her.

“Come in!” A woman beckoned.

Cecelia crinkled her brow at the character before her.  

This woman wore a long black dress with long sleeves ending in thick, jeweled cuffs. A beautiful sky-blue necklace of big, thick beads hung from her neck and complemented her plain garment. Cecelia smiled uncertainly at the woman, unsure of whether she was a princess of some kingdom.

“Come on!”

And then the woman started walking away, encouraging her not to be afraid.

Cecelia laughed weakly and curtsied. “Nice to meet you, Your Majesty!”  

The woman laughed as Cecelia into the room. “I actually don’t want to be known as a princess.” When Cecelia spun around and asked, the woman explained, palms up. “I don’t see myself as a princess. I mean, I want respect and people to accept me. But I don’t care about the crown or the throne or to even reign over my own land.”

“What do you mean?” Cecelia asked as the woman led her over to a pure white throne sitting in the middle of the pure white room. She sat, Cecelia looking right at her, eyebrows raising and mouth frowning when necessary. Then Cecelia noticed that when she crossed one tan leg over the other, she wasn’t even wearing any high heels or had her toenails painted. Everything—her feet, her toenails, her ankles—were completely bare. Just her skin boasted of paleness. As if this woman was someone she herself should be proud of.      

“That window shows my kingdom.” The woman jabbed lamely to a huge glass pentagon. Cecelia jerked her head up from wondering why this princess wouldn’t wear such glamorous clothes. She then let her hand smack against the edge of the throne. “All I want is to free the servants.”

“Who?” Cecelia inquired.

“These people.” The woman rose, and Cecelia followed her towards another door. This door’s knob was of pure gold—not like the ugly yellowish gold doorknob Cecelia turned every day to get in and out of her room.

“It’s okay!” The woman urged when Cecelia jerked her hand back.

“It’s just,” Cecelia laughed, wiping the sweat from her palms onto her blue cotton shirt. “I don’t trust it.”

“Why?” The woman wondered. “Everyone who’s here fits in perfectly well.”

Cecelia shrugged. “My parents ignore me, and my siblings don’t even speak my name. I don’t really know anyone who would do such a thing as encourage someone like me.”

Cecelia sucked in a huge breath through her nose. “I got to go.” She whizzed around and dashed towards the first door. When she grabbed the knob and was halfway through entering, Cecelia stopped and looked back when the woman killed all possibility.

“You can’t go back without helping us.”

“Help…?” Cecelia balled her fists, glaring at the woman. She didn’t know this stranger, and she didn’t want to be in this strange world. She didn’t need to get captured by some lady who didn’t even want to rule her own kingdom. So what if this woman’s mother or aunt or grandmother probably forced her into the monarchy and made her someone she dreaded? Her problem wasn’t Cecelia’s problem. She demanded to leave, jerking her chin out.

The woman nodded understandingly. “I know, but you can’t. Not yet.”  

“There should be!” Cecelia yanked the door closed. Standing there a minute, she then twisted the knob and kicked the door open. “Nothing happened! You happy?”

“How’d you get here?”

The anger didn’t change matters, so Cecelia sighed and dropped her shoulders. “Maybe by this weird object in my room. I slammed my foot on it, accidentally.”   

“And come here you did.” The woman gestured towards her door. “We’re going to free my servants. They have been locked away in this palace for little to no pay. They seldom receive rewards. They just want freedom.”

Maybe if I talk to the servants, they’ll help me get out of here, and I can tell the girls that I’ve found this mysterious object in my room. Then they’ll all come back, and we can all free the slaves! Cecelia, her hope soaring, leaped out of the closet-like room and grinned at the woman.

“Wow! I guess I really convinced you!” She returned the smile, but Cecelia explained her plan. The woman’s happiness melted.

“Oh. Well, you must help us, and then you can bring your friends here.” She opened the door, and they both walked through the hallway. Cecelia looked around and gaped at a black, decorated balcony and pillars columned throughout the massive room. Chandeliers dangled from a ceiling painted with golden-winged angels driving charging horses with sapphire reigns clasped tightly in the angels’ creamy white hands. Cecelia almost gawked at the sea-glass floor, with stingrays, rainbow fish, baby sharks, blowfish and other scary but fascinating creatures swimming leisurely in their aquarium home.   

“This is amazing!” Cecelia turned breathlessly to the woman. But she smiled dryly.

“Yeah, I know.” The woman’s eyes flashed intense frustration. “I want to be free, too!”

Then she just sighed. “But it’s no use…” She rose her eyebrows at Cecelia.

“Cecelia.”  

“Miss.” The woman shrugged. “I’m not even worthy of a name. I don’t even really belong…” They descended a flight of pearl-colored stairs and escaped out into a huge, open cow field.

“The servants’ quarters. Over here.” Miss and Cecelia came upon a stable-like area, where some people dragged strips of waistcloth and moved with rag-covered feet. Their bare arms lugged big wooden buckets of what looked like slop over a fence. Oinking sounded from the other side, and Cecelia held her nose.   

“Ut’s ‘at ‘mell?”

Cecelia gagged and squeezed her eyes shut. She clapped her mouth with a hand and sprinted away. After stopping, she opened her eyes and yanked her hands from her face. She sucked in a huge breath and smiled. Clean air!

“Hey!”

Cecelia almost twisted around as she saw a teenage-looking man beckoning her over. He wore a dirt-stained shirt and dark blue unbuttoned vest. His dark brown curly hair was shaved at the sides so only a long row of it stood right on top. As she went up to him, Cecelia saw they were under a canopied sidewalk and besides a windowless storage shed. The dirt caked onto him almost camouflaged his tawny-colored skin.    

“Can you help me clean this gutter of these clumps of dirt and mud? I’m supposed to clean this out before the queen inspects it.” He winked at Cecelia, and she smiled. “Her mother.”  

“Oh!”

“Yeah. We’re her servants.” He swung around and grabbed a shovel. Tossing it to her, the guy grinned, and Cecelia grinned back, catching it.   

“But I don’t have the right clothes!” She looked down. “And…I don’t have shoes, either.”

“No matter.” The servant jerked a thumb. “There’re clothes somewhere, and shoes can be found here.” He clapped her on the shoulder, leaving some mud and dirt on her nice shirt. “I’m Pirate, by the way.”  

Cecelia told him her name and then shot away to change. She soon emerged and got right to work as she shoveled and dumped the mud into a nearby bucket. She told Pirate about the heavy cloth thing in her room. “Yeah. I didn’t expect myself to be freeing—”   

“A bunch of worthless, stupid people!” Pirate interjected, mud-brown eyes flashing like lightning. “The queen doesn’t know anything about us. See, we have no right to free ourselves. It’s only if we prove ourselves.” Then he threw out a loud guffaw. “Well, that’s not going to happen. We’ll be here forever.”

“No!” Cecelia slammed her shovel down into the mud and scooped up another pile of slush. “We’ll make it. We just need to work at it.”            

Pirate didn’t say anything. He just rocked his shovel tip back and forth with one palm. “You don’t know that.”

Then Pirate arched his back, piling more clumps of mud and dirt into his bucket. Cecelia did the same to her own pail. As they toiled away, Cecelia talked of her family’s wealth, her giant home but, most importantly, her family’s neglect.              

“I understand your plight.” Cecelia nodded when Pirate had looked over while banging his dirt-stained shovel against one of the wooden planks that made up his bucket. “I don’t want to go back anymore. I’ll have nothing to do I want to do.”         

“Right. I’ll have no one to help me.” He flashed her a sincere smile, and she grinned. “That thing in your room. Was that a cloth with a box in it?”

“Yes!” Cecelia exchanged her shovel for her bucket, heaving it over her shoulder. She refused Pirate’s help as she lugged it around the fence and towards where Pirate said was a dump pile. Cecelia then chucked all the yuck onto the mountainous pile.

Just like my clothes in my room. Never ends. Cecelia and her empty bucket both returned and repeated the process. When Pirate and she had cleaned out the glop completely, he extended a hand and took Cecelia’s shovel, laying his with hers against the shed.   

“Now!” Pirate threw his hands on his waist and started walking. “The horse stalls and pig feeding.”

Cecelia and he worked until their backs ached, hands and arms shimmered shiny with sweat and heads almost split with throbbing pain. Trudging happily back across the fields as Miss and everyone else chatted wearily with one another, Cecelia smiled as Pirate threw a dirt-clad arm around her shoulders. She didn’t even care about the clumps’ cold, scratchy feeling on the back of her neck. She was glad to be around someone who cared about her.  

“So, tell me about those parties!”       

The flames of Miss’s campfire licked the night air as all the servants, especially Pirate, leaned in to hear Cecelia’s life so far.

“Wow!” One of the servants exclaimed. But Miss jumped up.

“Sorry to end the party, but we have to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

While everyone else grumbled, Cecelia and Pirate waved each other goodnight as each hurried off in opposite directions. Cecelia smiled as she slid under her sheepskin blanket. She snuggled against her feather pillow, closed her eyes and let her mind take her away to tomorrow.  

“Good morning to you, too, sun!”

Cecelia kicked off her covers, dressed and then headed out to go find Miss. When she descended the pearl-colored stairs, she looked around and then saw a dining hall with Pirate, the servants and Miss all sitting around its table.     

“Welcome to breakfast!”

Cecelia curtsied, and then consumed bread and butter, bacon and cornbread. After the dishes were washed and put away, they all headed outside towards the fields. The servants gathered in a group, and Miss told Cecelia to go back and get the cloth and box she had jumped into, explaining how she’d do so. As Miss announced the servants’ freedom, Cecelia caught Pirate’s eye before she left. He winked at her.

Cecelia shot him a wide grin and then dashed away. She scampered up the stairs and soon entered the closet where she started this whole adventure yesterday. Cecelia bent down and then jumped up. She spun around, grabbed the cloth and jumped into the box. Bursting out of the closet, Cecelia flew down the stairs and outside towards the roar of excited cheering and clapping servants and one happy Miss.      

“Here!” She gave the mysterious object to Miss and then questioned its sudden light weight.

“Because you are using it instead of just observing it.” Miss spread the cloth out, displaying the box. Some of the servants commented on its color, others wondered aloud what could happen next.   

“Now, each one of you is going to reach into this box and take out something that will prove your freedom.” Miss called each servant to put their hand into the box. When each hooted and hollered about their item, Cecelia flashed a smile and then watched Pirate expectantly as he put his hand in and took it out again.

“What is it?” Cecelia stretched her neck, but Pirate quickly cupped his hands.  

“Can’t tell you. It’s as mysterious as that box and cloth thing!” He looked into them and then stared at Cecelia with tears shimmering in his mud-brown eyes.

“I can’t…believe it!” Pirate shook his head slowly, savoring the moment. Then he swung his arm through the air. “Let’s go! Let’s enjoy this glorious day!”          

Pirate looped his arm through Cecelia’s as they skipped towards a woman in the far distance.

“That’s Miss, waving us goodbye through that gate!” He unhooked his arm and waved to one of the servants who was flapping her hand wildly. Cecelia joined in, but when they got behind the last servant, they stopped.    

Pirate showed Miss his object (which she still didn’t see). Cecelia watched him then leap into the air, give a shout of excited exclamation and then land, dust rising from his dusty, torn shoes.

“Pirate, turn around.”   

He did. That was when all ecstasy vanished.      

“I just don’t want you to go. I just met you, but I really enjoy being around you!” Cecelia begged him, tears glistening in her eyes.

“But we’ll see each other.” Pirate assured her, clapping her shoulder. But Cecelia hated him encouraging her. She twisted away before he could make her let the floodgates go.

“Just go.” she demanded. Watching Pirate exit the gate, Cecelia waved at the strap behind his vest.     

Then his shoes halted in place. Pirate spun around and galloped through the still open gate. Cecelia widened her eyes and shook her head slowly, furrowing her brows. Pirate grinned wider than he had before and swung an arm around her. “I’m staying here, Cecelia. I’m not walking away from anyone.”

She returned his huge smile.    

Then she exclaimed, thumping an arm on his strap. “Me neither.”    

Thanks to that mysterious object!