“I think we should start with some introductions. I am Snow White.”
Snow White and the seven dwarves were sitting in a circle around the beds she had put together. She thought that, as long as these people were letting her live with them, they may as well all get to know each other.
“Okay,” said the dwarf sitting immediately to her right. “I’m Doc. This is Happy, Sneezy, Bashful, Grumpy, Sleepy, and Dopey.” As Doc said each name, the corresponding dwarf giggled, sneezed, nervously chuckled, grunted, snored, and nodded, respectively.
Snow leaned towards Doc and whispered, “What’s the matter with him?”
Doc cringed. “We don’t know for sure, but we suspect he might have some...issues.”
More generally, she asked, “Well, why doesn’t he talk?”
Taking the hint, Doc jovially answered, “Why, he never tried!”
Noting how quickly he changed character, Snow stood and said, “Well, I guess I should start dinner. You’d better wash up.” The little men looked at each other. “Or have you already washed?”
“Of course, that’s it!” answered Doc.
“When?” Snow countered.
The dwarfs looked at their hands. “Recently,” Doc said.
Snow looked at them flatly, having none of it. “Go wash your hands.”
Six of the short people went to another room. One, however, Grumpy, lingered in the room.
“You’d better wash, or you don’t get supper.”
“I know exactly what you’re up to.”
Snow paused. “What are you talking about?”
“I know who your parents are. I know why you came here. It ain’t right.”
“What am I supposed to do? The queen can’t stay alive forever. Someone’s got to replace her.”
The dwarf raised an eyebrow. “And someone’s you?” Before she could respond, she was interrupted. “You know, I have an idea of why Dopey’s the way he is. I think she’s got something to do with it.”
“What could she have done?”
“He worked for her, you know. People said things, dirty things, but he didn’t care. Even before, he was a little slow. So one day, someone wanted to stir up some drama. They tried to assassinate Dopey. But the problem was that they thought he would be in the queen’s room, so it turned into an attempt on her life. Well, the only reason old Grimmy is still alive is that Dopey smelled the burning and rushed in to save the queen. She said, “Mirror’s still in there!” and Dopey went back in there and didn’t come back out until Mirror was saved. He was horribly burned, and she tried to fix him, but things went a little...wrong. He lost his voice and the fumes did something to his brain. That’s why, when he came to us for a job, we didn’t tell him about how coal burns.”
“So that means–”
“That if this house or our diamond and coal mine ever catches on fire, he might not know to get out.”
Snow narrowed her eyes. “Wait, how do you know so much about this?”
Grumpy smirked. “Gotta go wash.”
“What to do now?”
After destroying Mirror, Grimhilde had had no one with whom to talk. She’d cleaned the castle numerous times over the past few days, probably gained quite a few pounds, and even made sock puppets. She hadn’t however, tried finding out about Snow, which she knew she needed to do.
Today, though, she was determined to do so. As a way of answering herself, she swept over to a table and began writing:
“August 16, 1721
“Dear Snow White,
“I have a lot of explaining to do, and not a lot of time to do it. I’m sorry for calling you a devil’s witch and for almost kicking you out of the castle. Please, I need to speak with you.
“Sincerely,
“Queen Grimhilde.”
She started to imagine a raven on her window, then thought of what Snow and Mirror had said to her. The most powerful kind of magic is the one you feel. She closed her eyes and reached down into the depths of her soul like she had when she was first learning magic. She didn’t just think of the bird, she connected her lifeline to it, understood its whole consciousness. When she opened her eyes, there was a huge black raven sitting before her. It looked her in the eye and cawed. She stared back and raised an eyebrow. She made the bird desire to take the letter, made it believe that its world, like hers, would not go on if the letter was not delivered. And so it took up the paper and flew back the way it had come.
“Well, if you all enjoyed your dinner, I’ll be heading to bed.”
“But Snow,” answered Happy, “you gotta stay for our celebration!”
“What celebration?”
“Well, every night, if we meet our quota, we throw ourselves a little party to celebrate,” Answered Doc. “And today, we met it with room to spare!”
All the dwarves cheered.
“So w-won’t you st-stay for a little while?” asked Bashful.
“Well, I guess I won’t be able to sleep with this party downstairs.”
All the dwarves hurrahed. “Then let’s get this thing started!” shouted Happy.
A few minutes later, Dopey was standing on Happy and Bashful under a trench coat while Sleepy played an organ. Snow was sitting in a chair, cheering, while Grumpy grouched in the opposite corner. Snow politely clapped along to the beat, true to her complexion.
The man that comprised Dopey, Happy, and Bashful turned to her and waved her over to him. She shook her head, then stood at his insistence. She danced with him. She ended up having a great time with the dwarves, singing and dancing. She completely lost track of time. The clock struck ten, eleven, and twelve, yet she didn’t even notice. Near 12:30, she began to sing, a sweet song about love and romance, things she dreamed of dearly. Someday, she told herself. Someday my prince will come.
Soon the clock bonged once. “Why, it’s one o’clock,” she informed. “We should be getting to bed.” All the dwarves, even Grumpy and especially Sleepy, complied. Snow smirked. Charm magic.
The dwarves went upstairs to their respective beds while Snow slept outside. All the little men had offered to give up their beds, but she’d insisted and brought up the issue of privacy. Snow made a pillow of leaves and had brought a blanket from the house. She settled herself, then closed her eyes to sleep.
Then she opened her eyes. Something was watching her. She scanned to her right, then her left, where she saw a pair of glowing yellow eyes, floating up and down in the darkness. She huddled herself into the blanket as the eyes approached. She knew this was some creature the evil queen had sent to kill her. She could sense it.
Finally, the eyes approached close enough for Snow to make out the figure. It appeared to be a dark bird, a raven or crow. A bird of the night. The black bird roosted on a branch above and before her. It cawed, then dropped a neatly folded sheet of paper on her lap. Snow opened it, then looked back at the thing. It was gone.
Her eyes returned to the letter. It was too dark to read, so she decided she would read it in the morning. Or...
She willed for there to he a light next to her, so that she could see what she was reading. As she wished, so it was. She read Grimhilde’s letter.
