Lessoc Fountain - a fairy-creature tale

Ch. 10. 1 The Watching Woods

The Dress

Cocot decided not to waste any time before searching for the horse. Armed with a bundle of tender spring carrots, some spinach (do horses eat spinach?) in her satchel and a lantern, she set off down the lane, but when the sky darkened from periwinkle to violet, she headed home.

The chalet was cold and the quiet made her ears ring. To brighten the gloom, she lit a candle while ate dinner, then lit second one so she could read.

A magnificent armoire that Jean-Baptiste gave her mother as a wedding present took up the whole back wall – it would have been imposing in a castle – and she turned her key in the lock. With a protesting squeal, the door popped open. She unlatched the second door at the top on the inside to swing both doors wide.

The flickering candle light lit up a moth eaten suit and two shirts so thin they were transparent, her mother's three dresses, a few of her baby clothes, underclothes from ages past, the sewing box, letters, papers and more letters—none of them interesting even if she could read the faded writing.

There were only a few books. Two of poetry, the history of Switzerland dated 1905, a boring guide to farming, and Greek Mythology. That was the one she wanted. She pulled it out and the missing flyswatter fell to the ground.

As she picked it up, she noticed red cloth through a crack in the bottom.

Her mother's other dress.

She pulled open the large drawer above the floor, and touched the cloth.

"I must have been terribly thin when I first met Jean-Baptiste. After a couple of weeks of eating his mother's cooking, I couldn't wear this dress anymore!" her mother had said several years ago, showing Cocot the old treasure.

"Where did it come from?" she had asked, admiring it.

"Oh, from around the bend and under the hill, I suppose," her mother had answered.

As Cocot took it from the drawer, she was surprised to see that it was not stiff or musty smelling. It was old-fashioned, like a princess' dress, and in two parts. There was an off-white linen under dress, with fitted sleeves that could be unlaced at the shoulder and that ended in a slight point over the backs of the hands.

The over dress was deep red, dark as drying blood.

It had a square neckline and two wide straps for the shoulders, like an apron. It hung open in a narrow V with laced under the arms. There was no real waistline; the top half gradually cinched in until it reached the hips, then flared into an ever widening skirt. There was a band of silver and black ribbon decorating the bottom hem, neckline and straps, and the laces on the sides were silver, too.

On the front of the red bodice was a delicate embroidery of raspberry brambles; leaves, prickles and berries grew up over the heart and spread across both sides. At the top, in the left corner, a full moon hung in shining silver and white. She could even see the man in the moon when she tilted the dress sideways to the candlelight. Cocot traced the embroidered picture with her finger. Her mother had never done much needle work, so Cocot assumed someone else had sewn it. Perhaps her mother's mother.

At the very bottom of the drawer there was also a leather and chain belt, and a linen hood. From her seat on the floor, her mother's sewing box was level with her eyes.

She could use something new to wear. Something like a beautiful dress.

Instead of reading, she measured, hemmed, tucked, and stitched through the evening until it fit her.