Chapter 6: Cindy's Fella, Part 3

She refused to come out to cook or clean. Her step-mother gave up on her and even went as far as to wedge the door closed with a chair. Anatolia came and begged her to cook. Zetta came to sneer and complain. Cindy ignored them all. She pulled out an old dress of her mother's that had hung in the back of her closet for as long as she could remember. It used to smell of her mother, now it just smelled musty.

Cindy aired the dress out and tried it on. It was loose in some places and tight in others, yet fit surprisingly well. She spent some time altering it as best she could while she tried not to hear the steady tramp of feet in and out of the house. They would never be able to pay for all this fuss. Her step-mother was going to put them out on the street. There wasn't much left to sell.

The day of the ball came and Cindy carefully rolled the dress up and fit it into a pillow case. She held the case as she climbed down the trellis outside her window. The only place she could think to change was the barn. She put on the dress and tried her best to tidy herself.

"Well it's good to see that you can make yourself presentable," her step-mother said as she walked into the barn, "but there's no need for you to go to the ball. You have a fiancé already."

"What are you talking about?"

"Farmer Jones needs a new wife. He's had his eye on this farm for a while. Since you like farming so much, it is a perfect match. He doesn't care about this ball since he only has sons."

"Farmer Jones is old enough to be my father! I won't marry him."

"You may not like me, but I am your mother and you will do what I say."

"I won't," Cindy tried to run past her step-mother, but the older woman was faster and stronger than the she expected. She caught Cindy's arm in an iron grip and pulled her close.

"You will do what I say, girl, or some sad accident will befall you. I did it before; I can do it again." She pushed Cindy back into the barn and slammed the door closed. The bar outside dropped with a bang. All the other doors would be barred too and there was no trellis to climb down.

She felt like she was going to burst. She kicked and pounded on the door, but though it was old it was still all too solid. The sound of horses pulling a carriage came through the door and she collapsed into tears. This really was it. There was no escape from her future life as Bill's step-mother. She was younger than he was! If it had been someone else, it might have been funny.

The barn was very silent without Cleopatra in it. Cindy sighed and leaned against the door. It was going to be a long night.

She wasn't sure how long she had sat, huddled against the door before she noticed a strange light coming from Cleopatra's stall. Cindy got up to investigate. She walked to the stall and peeked around the door. Busily cleaning the stall with a tiny broom was a woman who didn't stand as tall as Cindy's waist.

"Well come in, dear," the woman said. "It isn't polite to stare."

Cindy reluctantly walked into the stall. Somehow as she entered it, the cramped space grew larger and she found herself eyeball to eyeball with the strange woman.

"Don't fret about it," the woman said, "It will just give you wrinkles." She waved her hand and a ball of light floated up above them. "Now, let me get a good look at you." She made spinning motions with her fingers and Cindy slowly turned around.

"I know that dress has sentimental value, but it just won't do." She waved her hand again and the sudden weight of a beautiful gown draped from Cindy's shoulders. She struggled to breathe.

"Small breaths, dear, a corset takes some getting used to, but you'll be fine."

She made the spinning motion with her hand again and Cindy turned again.

"Better, better." She waved her hand and Cindy's hair crawled and tugged until she thought it would pull right out.

Finally, it stopped and she lifted her hand to feel.

"Ah, ah," the woman said, "don't fuss." She led the way out into the barnyard. The moon was just rising and gave the place a magical glow. The woman walked over to the garden and peered at the pumpkin.

"This will do fine."

"But that's going to be my prize pumpkin."

"Listen, Cindy, I promised your mother to look after you, not to rescue you from your own stupidity. You can either go to the ball and marry the prince; or you can stay here, grow prize pumpkins and marry Farmer Jones."

Cindy shuddered and turned away from the garden. The woman waved her hand once more and the pumpkin exploded into a fine coach. Two unwary rabbits became horses to draw the coach, another became a driver.

"Here are the rules, child," the woman was taller than Cindy now, "You have until midnight to capture the prince; no later, not one second after midnight. At the fading of the last stroke of midnight the spell will end. Don't worry about leaving early; I've given you a little advantage. The poor boy won't be able to resist you. Just leave before the last stroke of midnight and you become the next princess. Stay any later and I won't be responsible for what happens." She smiled brightly. "But I know you will follow the rules. Now get your pretty glass slippers into the carriage and go."