Sleeping Beauty-ish

The Walking Dead (in Theory)

"You're dead. You're 800 years old. Nobody sleeps for 800 years. And magic isn't real." That's the gist of what I'd been saying for the past hour as I paced around Rosalyn, who was rolling her eyes in irritation.

"And you're a boy who seems to be able to say only one thing. Not only that, but you have a particularly strange accent. Where are you from, pray tell?"

"Originally, America, but my home's a suitcase," I said finally. "I'm not really from anywhere. But you're from the 1300s and America wasn't even discovered yet so you have no idea what I'm talking about..."

"But I would like to hear about it," said Rosalyn eagerly. "Perhaps if I wake my family up, we shall travel there by ship."

"It's much faster by plane," I suggested, before realizing that she didn't know what a plane was, either. I checked my watch. "Oh, shit."

"How dare you swear in front of a princess!" gasped Rosalyn.

"Right now, England's got a different queen," I told her. "You're kind of no longer a big deal, just a missing chunk of history. You got replaced. And it's five-thirty and if I don't get back home in one hour, I'm doomed."

Rosalyn folded her arms angrily. "And you intend to leave me in my own tomb?"

"It's your castle!"

"It is also the scene of a great tragedy!" shouted Rosalyn. "I cannot stay here, not so long as my family is asleep!"

"Fine," I groaned. "Great. Now I not only get to be grounded, but questioned on why I was spending the night with a girl I barely even know!"

Rosalyn sighed and followed me, but we'd barely made it out of the castle before she began to complain about the brisk chill.

"All right, fine. Here's a coat. Happy?"

"What is this? Where are its buttons?" demanded Rosalyn, inspecting my coat suspiciously. I rolled my eyes and zipped it up for her, and then began to hurry along. "It's called a zipper, invented about a century or so back, but I don't have time to get into that history now...would you hurry up?"

"Princesses do not run," said Rosalyn stiffly.

"This one does," I told her, struggling not to yell. We'd finally made it to the streets of Evershire, and I could see the sun rising in England's grayish sky. "Come on, we're almost to my apartment."

"These are strange cobblestones," commented Rosalyn, stepping on the street. I quickly yanked her back.

"Are you insane? You could have been run over!"

"Run over by what?" asked Rosalyn, and then a taxi raced by, and she screamed shrilly. I could've sworn the taxi driver gave us a dirty look.

"What is that beast?" cried Rosalyn. "Surely it is dangerous!"

I led her to the crosswalk and pulled her along, despite her unwillingness to walk in front of dozens of honking cars. "That would be a car. It's basically a modern, motor-powered version of a carriage. And it's only dangerous if you're a stupid driver or if you're a stupid passersby and you walk right in front of it when there's not a crosswalk."

I checked my watch and groaned. Six-forty-five. Dad would know for sure I wasn't home by now. I should've left a note - gone for a run. Be back soon.

Except I hadn't, and now I was basically doomed.

"Here," I said, arriving at our hotel. I walked in and we took the elevator up, which shocked Rosalyn as well and caused the hotel guests to stare at us strangely. I sighed. "It's an elevator, Rosalyn. It's just a contraption that's kind of like a dumbwaiter except, you know, way bigger and for people."

We arrived at the third floor and I pulled Rosalyn along to our room, pulling the punch card out of my pocket and sliding it in front of our door. I dragged her inside and shut her in the bathroom, which was immediately to my left.

"Stay in there, and be quiet," I hissed to her, and locked the door. She wouldn't be able to figure that out for at least fifteen minutes. I hoped.

Dad's arms were crossed and his brow was furrowed when I entered the kitchen.

"Sorry, Dad," I told him. "I went for a run and forgot to leave a note."

"You're wearing jeans, and your bed wasn't even made, Jack," my dad told me, his voice tight with anger. "Don't try to pull one over on me. Don't make me feel like a fool, because you know I'm not. Where were you, really?"

"I was looking at your dig site," I told my dad. "For the princess's tomb. Dad, I know you don't believe me about the castle, but it's there, I promise - there's a seven-year-old princess there who's been sleeping since the 1300s - I checked her for a pulse, Dad, she's got one, and her brother's the same, too, and so is the king."

My dad blinked. "Son, I think you might've been sleepwalking."

"Dad, I wasn't! I swear!"

Dad sighed. "Look, Jack, why don't you just get some rest. I've got to get to the dig site anyway. When your mind's cleared, why don't you come back with me and we can dig together like we usually do, okay?"

I looked at him and decided it wasn't worth the battle. "Okay," I told him. "See you later, Dad."

My father nodded before grabbing his Dig Bag, as he liked to call it, and leaving in our dusty old rental car. Sometimes I felt sorry for our rental cars. Dad didn't even bother to put them through a car wash before returning them, and I can't tell you how many times we've gotten dirty looks from the rental service representatives for that.

As soon as I was sure he was gone, I let Rosalyn out of the bathroom. "Thanks," I told her. "For being quiet."

"Most people find it difficult to believe my story," said Rosalyn, inspecting the microwave. "What is this strange appliance?"

"That'd be the microwave," I told her. "It's like a miniature oven."

"But I do not see any flames," Rosalyn told me.

"It runs on electricity, which I'm way too tired to explain right now. Okay, what's your story, then?"

Rosalyn looked at me. "My story," she said. "When I was born, my mother was furious. She did not like that she'd had a female, and not a male. My father didn't mind, but my mother did. Despite the fact that she eventually had a son - my little brother, Tommy - she grew furious when my father, who had watched me grow up into a strong and powerful woman, named me his heir. She cursed me with a sleeping spell, and told me that I may wake up, but without true love's kiss, my family would never wake up. She told me that on my sixteenth birthday, it would take place. This was when I was thirteen. I was old enough to comprehend the matter." She sighed. "Mother was banished after that, but I know she is still out there, using her magic to sustain herself."

"Okay, so magic is real. Yep, this is what I get for being an archaeologist's son." I sighed. "Look, I'm going to go take a nap, okay? Why don't you watch some Disney or something?"

"What is Disney?" asked Rosalyn, eyes wide, and to demonstrate, I turned on the TV and switched to Disney Channel. She gasped. "It is a magic box!"

"Not really, it uses atoms and electricity to - oh, screw it. I'll explain later. Don't leave the room, okay? Not for anything." I yawned and went to my bedroom, leaving Rosalyn completely and utterly captivated by a rerun of That's So Raven.