The Universe According to Mary Anne Mickiewiczs (With Apologies to James Thurber)

The horse-drawn cart crept slowly along the wide boulevard, headed toward the massive guillotine in the middle of the square. The crowds on either side of the boulevard, restrained by police and guardsmen in elaborate red uniforms, were shouting, “Mary Anne! Mary Anne! Our good Princess! Save us!” With arms bound in front of her with sturdy iron chains, Princess Mary Anne stood in the cart, flanked by two palace guards carrying long rifles, looking grim.

She looked at the guard on her left, a handsome fellow wearing a large watch on his right arm.  “What time is it?” she asked him.

“Two o’clock, Your Highness. Almost time for your execution.”

“I don’t understand why they are executing me,” said Princess Mary Anne in a hoarse voice.

“You led a coup d’etat to try to take over the government and abolish the tyrannical monarchy,” said the second guard.  “The people love you, but your ex-lover, the king, is having you executed for treason.”

The cart reached the square where the guillotine loomed, and the guards got out. One reached up and helped Princess Mary Anne descend to the pavement. She looked up at the guillotine, shuddered, and said, “Let’s get this over with.”

She ascended the stairs to the horrid machine with quick, clipped steps. When she reached the top, she turned to the crowds below, raised her shackled arms, and shouted, “Freedom! Down with tyranny!” The crowd roared.

“Mary Anne!” came a harsh female voice. “Wake up and pay attention!”

Mary Anne Mickiewiczs blinked her eyes and slowly looked around, taking in the reality of the classroom full of teenagers with the black-clothed nun in the front of the room.

“Wha …,” she said.

There was soft laughter from the other students in the room.

“I asked you a question!” exclaimed Sister Mary Hubert. “In what year was Queen Marie Antoinette executed?”

“Oh, uh … 1776?”

“No. Pay attention in class, and maybe you’ll pass it.”

“Yes, Sister.”

Mary Anne blushed and slumped down into her desk, lowering her head into her shoulders. Again she had been caught daydreaming, a habit she couldn’t break. 

History class ended, and Mary Anne gathered her books and headed toward her next class, algebra with Sister Mary Margaret. When she reached her desk in the classroom, Mary Anne opened her algebra book to the requested page and sat with her head in her hands. Sister Mary Margaret began to drone the day’s lesson in a voice calculated to put everyone to sleep.

The imposing-looking man stepped up to the microphone and loudly announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present this year’s Nobel Prize winner in Mathematics, Mary Anne Mickiewieczs!”

Mary Anne made her entrance from stage left. The audience rose to its feet, and the auditorium erupted in applause. Mary Anne took her place at the microphone and held up her hand. The audience gradually stopped applauding and sat down.

“We are so happy to have you here,” said the imposing-looking man. “You are our hero, the hometown woman who overcame all odds to win the Nobel Prize. I will turn the stage over to you so you can tell us how you did it.”

“Thank you,” said Mary Anne.  “It was nothing, really. It all started in high school, where I won the prize as the best mathematics student for four years in a row. I had to fight the system to achieve this. Sister Mary Margaret was against me, saying I was nothing but a daydreaming nerd, but I won. And I kept winning, right up to the Nobel Prize for solving the Riemann Hypothesis!”

The crowd exploded once more in applause.

“Mary Anne! Mary Anne!” said a monotone voice. “Are you alright? You have such a strange look on your face!”

“Um,” said Mary Anne, trying to focus her eyes on Sister Mary Margaret. “I was just thinking about something.”

“Well, try to think about the problem on the board,” said Sister Mary Margaret.

“Sorry,” said Mary Anne. She blushed and lowered her face to her book.

“The problem is on the board, not down there,” said Sister Mary Margaret.

“Oh. Yes,” said Mary Anne, raising only her eyes to the blackboard. The other students snickered as Mary Anne’s face broke out in a fresh blush.

Sister Mary Margaret shook her head and resumed droning the lesson.

Mary Anne’s next class was physical education, taught by Mrs. Beaulaurier. Mary Anne ran to the gymnasium, changed into her gym clothes as fast as possible, and headed toward the basketball court. She hated gym class most of all. Mrs. Beaulaurier’s usual term for Mary Anne was “awkward” because she was kind. She decided to make Mary Anne sit out the first round of girls’ basketball play, along with the rest of the worst players. Relieved, Mary Anne walked over to the bleachers and sat in the first row.

“And here she is, ladies and gentlemen! Mary Anne Mickiewiczs herself!” exclaimed the announcer. “The United States Women’s Basketball champion! The hope of the United States Olympic Women’s Basketball team! Look at her, and listen to that applause!”

Mary Anne pranced around the court with her arms in the air, acknowledging the tribute from the audience. After a couple of minutes, she took her position.

The game was hers from the beginning. She stole the ball from a player from the other team who was busy dribbling it. She caught a pass meant for the other team. She ran and dribbled the ball around the court with exquisite movements like a ballerina.

“Mickiewiczs! Mickiewiczs! Mickiewiczs!” chanted the crowd as she slam-dunked her fourth basket of the night.

“Mickiewiczs!” shouted a female voice in Mary Anne’s ear. She closed her eyes, shook confusion out of her head, and looked at Mrs. Beaulaurier, who was glaring at her.

“Get up and join the game before the period ends!” demanded Mrs. Beaulaurier.

“Okay,” said Mary Anne. She slowly rose and walked to the court, where her fellow students were busy passing the ball around.

Four fouls and one fall later, Mary Anne limped over to the dressing area to take a shower and change back into her school clothes. 

Physical education was her last class of the day. Mary Anne headed to the elementary school across the street, where the school bus was parked. She took her usual seat in the middle of the bus, settled back, and closed her eyes.

“Yes, down with tyranny!” a handsome young man shouted from the crowd pressing around the guillotine. Princess Mary Anne looked down, and a look of tenderness crossed her face.

“Thank you, Pierre,” she said to the young man. “But you must leave this place. You are putting yourself in grave danger.”

“I will always love you,” said Pierre.

“And I will always love you,” said Princess Mary Anne, “Even from the next life.”

Pierre turned and pushed his way through the crowd, getting away.

The Princess’s eyes filled with tears as she said to the executioner, “Alright. It’s time to do this.”

Princess Mary Anne Mickiewiczs went to her eternal destiny with her back straight, and head held high.