Brown Eyes

Chapter 15

(3rd Person P.O.V.)

  Eliza became Henry's regular babysitter. She'd come over whenever Regina had a meeting and watch him for a while.

  "Hey Henry!" she exclaimed one day when she walked in and saw the little toddler running toward the door.

  "I'll be back," Regina said and left. Then Eliza and Henry would play with his toys and watch movies, usually Disney ones.

  When Henry was eight, he asked Eliza, "Why do you love Peter Pan so much?"

  Eliza thought about it. "The movie or the guy?"

  "Both."

  "Okay, well the movie, because Neverland is every fantasy a kid has ever had mixed into one, and made into a Disney movie. I love Disney movies. And the guy... I don't know. I feel like there's a connection between us, even though he's probably not even real. There's just something about him."

  About the time Henry turned ten, he got suspicious about how he's aged all these years, yet Eliza never has. But she didn't seem to notice or care at all. Nobody did.

  "Eliza?" he asked her one day. "How old are you?"

  "Almost sixteen," she told him.

  "How long until your birthday?" he asked.

  She thought for a bit. "I don't remember," she said. "I dunno. I'm pretty tired."

  "Who do you live with?" he asked.

  "Granny and Red at the hotel, you know that," she said.

  "How long have you lived there?" he asked.

  "For as long as I can remember," she replied. "What's with all the questions, sport?"

  "Don't call me sport," he said, "it makes me feel like I'm seven."

  "Okay, can I call you 'kid'?" she asked.

  "Sure," he said.

  A week later, Henry found out he was adopted. He started wondering about his birth mother. He also started wondering about his adoptive mother. Did either of them love him? Recently it didn't seem like Regina did. Constantly being so strict, and getting so mad at him. He started falling behind in school work. One day he sat at lunch, eating and looking at his un-finished--hell, un-started homework sheet about his "family tree."

  "Henry?" he heard his teacher Ms. Blanchard ask. "You didn't turn in your homework again, is there a problem?"

  Henry answered with silence.

  "Oh, Henry," Mary Margret sighed, sitting down next to him. "Things really will get better if you just believe they will."

  Henry still didn't respond.

  "Life is unpredictable," she told him.

  "Is your life unpredictable?" Henry asked, a bit harshly. "Because it seems to me like everything is pretty much the same around here. Except me."

  Both said nothing for a second.

  "My birth mom didn't love me," Henry said. "Regina says she does, but she doesn't. The only person I'm sure loves me is Eliza, and it's probably just me, but it seems like she's been sixteen forever. She has never changed, and when I ask her about it, she looks at me like I'm crazy. I don't belong here."

  "You do belong here Henry. You are loved," Mary Margret told him. "You said it yourself, Eliza loves you."

  "She's my best friend and babysitter. She's like my sister, but she still doesn't get it when I say nothing has ever changed, not even slightly. I don't belong here."

  Mary Margret thought for a moment, then remembered what she had found that morning. "I wanna show you something."

  She started to pull out a large leather-bound book with "Once Upon A Time" on the cover in gold curly letters. "This morning, I was cleaning out my bedroom closet, which I've done every week, thousands of times, and do you know what happened? I found something. Something I've never noticed before." She pulled out the book and gave it to Henry.

  "It was just there, like magic or something," Mary Margret told him.

  "That's not possible," Henry said.

  "Well of course not, but it happened," Mary Margret said. "This book somehow arrived. Was it given to me? Did I forget about it? I don't know! But, there it was. And do you know what I saw when I looked inside?"

  Henry flipped through the book, skimming the pages with his eyes.

  "Hope," Mary Margret told him.

  Henry looked again at the pages filled with cartoons and drawings of characters from classic Disney movies. He recognized them all because Eliza is always drawing and reading about classic fairytales, which don't all look the same as the Disney characters. Snow White had long curly black hair, Sleeping Beauty had auburn hair, Ariel looked exactly the same though.

  "Looks like fairy tales to me," he said.

  "And what exactly do you think fairy tales are?" Mary Margret asked. "They are a reminder that our lives will get better, if we just hold onto hope."

  Henry had a quick flashback about when he was nine, and he and Eliza were in his living room, and she was drawing a very detailed sketch of Belle, from Beauty and the Beast.

  "Why do you like fairy tales so much?" Henry asked Eliza. "I thought they were for kids."

  "Fairy tales are hope, and belief in better things, a better life," Eliza said. "I went through a really bad breakup once. I don't remember much about it anymore, because of fairy tales. I guess that guy just wasn't my prince. These stories gave me hope that someday I would find my prince."

  Henry knew she was right.

  "Your happy ending may not be what you expect, but that's what makes it special," Mary Margret told him.

  Henry nodded and looked at the book. Something in him told him he should show it to Eliza.

  "Can... can I borrow this?" he asked.

  "You can have it," Mary Margret told him.

  "Really?" Henry asked happily.

  "Believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a powerful thing," she told him with a smile. "I think you could use it."

  She started to get up, while Henry continued to read. She patted his head and said, "I'll see you in class," as she started to leave.

  Henry flipped to a page where a bride and groom stood in each other's arms, afraid. Henry could tell by the pale skin and black hair that the woman was Snow White. Her hair was in some fancy up do and decorated with flowers, and she was in a bright, frilly white wedding dress.

  "Ms. Blanchard," Henry said, about to show her the resemblance between her and the cartoon.

  "Yes?" she asked, and when Henry looked up, he could almost see her as the princess in the book. When he blinked, the image was gone.

  "Thank you," he said.

  She smiled and said, "You're very welcome."

  Henry turned to one of the last pages, because he's never been one to wait long to see what the ending was. He saw the woman who was identical to Ms. Blanchard, smiling sadly at a newborn babe, who was wrapped in a fluffy white blanket, with the name Emma embroidered on the side in purple stitching.

  "Emma," Henry said to himself.