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HydeCo Dolls |
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Firebird Ellen Hyde
I am a bird now. I woke up in the dark of night, hot and uncomfortable under my blankets, and discovered I had feathers. I was too tired to think clearly then, so I simply flew up to roost atop one of my bedposts. I am still taking this much calmer than most would. Mother was a firebird, so everyone says, and I guess it should come as no surprise that I am one too. It certainly doesn’t feel unnatural, being a bird. The door opens, and Karina, my maidservant, enters. When she sees I am not in my bed, she looks extremely worried. That’s odd. Karina often helps me run away. Why would thinking I’m gone make her so upset now? Maybe she’s worried Father will punish her. “Karina?” I call, hoping she will understand me. Karina looks around the room, and finally her eyes look up and rest on me on my bedpost. She is startled, but not very. “Oh, my,” she breathes. “So you are…” She steps back from the bed. “I always knew you took after your mother.” I would have smiled, had I been able to. “Your father won’t like this at all,” says Karina. “Can you change back?” I hadn’t thought about that. “I think so,” I say, and I jump back down to my bed, doing my best to avoid the draperies. Changing back is harder than I thought, and I have to really concentrate. But after a few minutes, I manage. “You still have a few feathers,” says Karina. “Ah, wear that huge dress of yours, it’ll hide them all.” The “huge dress” is actually more of a bathrobe, but it’s morning, so that shouldn’t merit any reprimands from Stepmama. “Karina,” I say, as she is about to leave. “I’m going to fly away, now I can, and I’m never, ever, coming back here.” “You’d best join your family for breakfast,” says Karina, after a pause.
For breakfast we have scones and jam. Stepmama looks at me when I enter, and I can tell she's wishing I would dress more properly, or at least wear a color that suits me. But she says nothing, and I sit down opposite her, next to my little sister Anna. Father says a blessing, and then we eat. “Elisabeta,” says Father, about halfway through the meal. “You will have your girls dye your hair in time for dinner this evening.” “What’s the occasion?” I ask. Father always has me dye my hair when we have a guest, because my naturally red-orange hair looks nothing like his or Stepmama’s. “Oh, nothing tonight,” says Stepmama. “But you know your hair looks too dark the day it’s dyed.” “Who is coming tomorrow?” I ask, remembering Karina’s worried look when she thought I was gone. “The tsar’s youngest son,” says Father, “is looking for a bride.” “If only Anna were a few years older,” says Stepmama. I don’t know of she intends to hurt me or not, but I’ve become immune to her comments. Anna, who is Stepmama’s daughter, grimaces. “I wouldn’t get married, even to the tsar’s oldest son,” she says. I am thinking much the same thing, but I know if I say that, I’ll be punished. “And you wish for me to impress him, rather than deter him?” I ask. Father has had me deter suitors before, second-sons of lower-ranking boyars and anyone else who wasn’t rich enough. “Well, the tsar’s youngest son is the best you’ll do,” says Father. “Very well,” I say. I have made up my mind for certain now; I will fly away tonight. “You will do exactly as I say,” says Father. “Marrying well is the only way you’ll ever be of any use to this family.” “Yes, Father,” I reply. He nods, and goes back to his breakfast. It’s been over two months since I last tried to run away, so he’s not very worried. I’m not hungry anymore, though, so I hold a bit of my scone under the table and hope the cat will come. My mind has been put off of firebirds, and I am instead thinking about this tsar’s youngest son, wondering if he is as bad as all my other suitors have been, when I feel the cat batting at a feather. I pull my hand away, and he jumps after it, biting the feather and plucking it form my arm. “Ow!” I exclaim, and then, as Stepmama looks at me, “I spilled a bit of tea. Don’t worry, none got on the dress.” Stepmama would be happy if this dress got ruined, I know, but she’d punish me all the same. The cat wanders away with my feather, leaving the scone on the floor. I decide not to be angry at him—it’s no sin for a cat to play with feathers. I wonder if the stories are true, and taking a feather from a firebird will really bring bad luck. In any case, I doubt it would affect a cat. Yes, I decide, I will fly away. There is perhaps one chance in a million that this tsarevich is better than the other suitors, and I’m not willing to risk it. It will be better to leave without seeing him at all, then Father and Stepmama can perhaps work out some future arrangement with Anna. I’ll leave after dark tonight, so Father won’t know I’m gone ‘til the morning. “Hey, kitty,” Anna callss, and I see her taking the feather from the cat’s mouth. “Give that to me, Anna, it’s mine,” I whisper. I don’t know if the stories are true or not, but Anna, of all my family, deserves bad luck the least. “But it’s so pretty,” she says. “And you don’t need any more feathers, you’ve got that dress with all the blue ones.” I know the dress she’s talking about, and it’s ghastly. But I remember that, in the stories, there’s no bad luck if the firebird gives away a feather of her own free will. “Ah, you can keep it,” I say. “What is that, dear?” asks Stepmama from across the table. “It’s mine, Lisa said I could have it,” says Anna, but Stepmama reaches over and plucks it from her hands. “Where did you get this, Elisabeta?” she asks, and I can tell she doesn’t know. But she acts like I’ve done something wrong, so she must think I stole it. “I found it,” I say, and then I hope for the best, because by now Father has had a good look at it, and I am sure he knows exactly what it is, and where it’s from. “Go to your room, Elisabeta,” he says to me. “I’ll deal with this later.” I stand up and exit the hall. Stepmama has a look of triumph on her face. “Imagine,” she says. “Trying to let the blame fall on Anna.” Father won’t tell her, and Stepmama will go on thinking I am a thief, but she has always thought me a thief. Once in my room, I collapse on my bed and cry. I cry because of Father and Stepmama, I cry because of the tsarevich, I cry because of Anna, who has done nothing wrong, yet done nothing to deserve her better treatment, but most of all I cry because I am crying and cannot stop. I am too weak, I think. Too weak even to run away. And this could have been a good day! I try not to think about what Father will do when he comes up. The last time he was upset with me, he beat me, and that was only for talking back to him. Perhaps I should just fly away now. I’m a bit calmer, and I know I’m stronger than I tell myself, but when I try to change back to my bird-form, I can’t manage it. After maybe a quarter-hour, I hear footsteps approaching, but they’re not Father’s or Stepmama’s. Karina enters my room, followed by Anna. “Karina said you’re a firebird,” says Anna. I nod, but don’t say anything. I’m afraid that if I speak, I’ll start crying again. Karina sits down by me, and no one says anything for a few minutes. “When is he coming?” I finally ask. “Not for a long time,” says Karina. “I don’t know if he’s just making you wait, or if he’s unsure of what to do.” “You should run away for real this time,” says Anna. All the other times were for real, I just got caught. “She’s going to, Anna,” says Karina. “You should be thankful the tsarevich is coming,” she says to me. “Your father needs you to be presentable, so he’ll put off any serious punishment ‘til after he leaves.” I nod. I hadn’t thought about that, but she was right. “Is it true?” I ask. “What they say he did to Mama?” Karina is silent for a second, as she recalls what it is “they say” he did to my mother. She shakes her head. “No, dear,” she says. “You don’t have to worry about anything like that.” “What did Daddy do to Lisa’s mama?” asks Anna. She hadn’t heard the stories, or perhaps simply hadn’t understood them. “Nothing, Anna,” says Karina. “Why must he punish me?” I ask. “I didn’t do anything, not this time.” “It’s his past he hates,” says Karina. “And you look just like your mother did. He wants those memories gone, but the only way he knows how to defeat something is to beat it senseless ‘til it comes begging to him for mercy. People shouldn’t be handled like that, especially not daughters.” I know she’s right. Father has never seen me only as myself, and neither has Stepmama, though for different reasons. I would have been surprised that Father didn’t marry me off to the first suitor who came my way, no matter what his fortune, if I didn’t know how greedy Stepmama was. “When should I leave?” I ask. “If you truly mean to go, then as soon as possible. But have you thought of your other option? Marrying the tsarevich could be a much safer way out of your father’s house. Perhaps you should wait, and see what he’s like—” I shake my head. “I’ll leave now,” I say. “Or as soon as I change into a better dress. This one will only get in the way.” I put on a plain, form fitting black one, and decide to take my gloves, boots, and hat, just in case. “Don’t forget to take money this time,” says Anna. Grateful for her reminder, I take some coins from my secret store and hide them in one of my boots. “I can find work in the village,” I say. “But Daddy always looks there first,” says Anna. “I’ll go north, then,” I say. The change comes easily now that I’m calmer, and I see that, as I’d hoped, all that I was wearing makes the change with me. I pluck two feathers from my tail with my beak and hand them to Anna and Karina. “For luck,” I say. Then I go to my windowsill and launch myself outward. There is a feeling I have felt before, when I’ve run away, but this time I know it’s real. Freedom.
© 2006 Ellen Hyde |