THE PRINCESS WHO LOST HER LOVE
The figure stood unnoticed, watching them.
All eyes except his focused on the procession of colorful floats that passed by. A vast train of excitement slowly winding its way along the park's through-road, interacting with the ecstatic children that raced out from the crowds to greet them.
A multitude of fairground rides and stalls littered the edges surrounding the central picnic area and bodies swarmed in and out, in all directions at once. It wasn't easy keeping an eye on them; there were thousands to watch, and he had no idea which one he should be watching. They were all far too busy enjoying themselves to notice him, their time and attention totally absorbed by the events taking place all around them.
Only once every year does the carnival come to Manhattan's preserved Parklands, and the whole community had showed up for this year's annual day. Everyone from Grandma to the next-door neighbor's dog. Yet, unnoticed to all, he remained hidden.
Under the lowest branch of an ancient maple he stood, by a waterfall where the river meandered lazily over the rocks. It provided a breathtaking backdrop to the day's proceedings, on this, America's most celebrated day of Independence — July 4th. The forecast had said it would be one of the hottest on record since the 1950s.
He watched them all from the shadows of the undergrowth, smiling at their antics. It was moments like this that filled him with such gladness. Moments he loved to spend watching them all, walking arm in arm, or carrying their children, and not forgetting the teddy bears that spoke of love at all cost. It was the higher sense of love that overpowered them all that he enjoyed — he just could not understand why they seemed to save it for certain days only. How, for the years he had been observing them, they chose to spend the vast majority of their lives in abject misery, then on certain days and special occasions relaxing to live out the truth that exists in each and every one. Love.
The more he watched them through time the more he thought…
"Humans… sheer bafflements… and madder than a box of frogs. One day they'll learn!"
He wasn't sure why he had been called yet; there was far too much going on to guess, but he felt that someone in the crowd must be in need of his help. Someone would have called him and he was duty-bound to respond in his service to the order of things. It was the way. Had always been the way. They would call, he would come. He reflected on the last time he had been called and wondered what had become of Phil, the man he had last saved. The girl too. What had become of them after that day?
He checked his trussock, ensuring that he had enough herbs for every foreseeable event; rosemary in particular. He swore by his rosemary. Never know when you might be needing rosemary, he thought to himself, looking at the generous amount he had hoarded. Whatever he felt it was good for, he had enough to cure a plague of it. His trussock was bulging where it hung round his portly waste.
"'Tis always a good thing to check, cause you never knows what might be about to be a happening. Especially with these humans!" He voiced aloud to himself.
Then, satisfied he was adequately prepared, he continued his watch and waited.
The day proceeded magnificently. Very little spoiled it. There were a few people screaming and a few people frantically running around the park, but otherwise the day's events ran smoothly. Not a cloud had crossed the blue of the hazy horizon. Everyone it seemed had exhausted themselves in every department, laughing, running, screaming and playing group games, yet many still felt exalted enough to discuss the pleasures they had each experienced as they made their way out of the park towards home.
Many had driven in from the city outskirts and the park was quick to empty. Everyone eager to get ahead of the upcoming traffic. Within minutes all but the figure had departed. Unsure of events, he waited.
A further ten minutes passed as he watched the final stragglers leave, exiting through the north gate to his left. He surveyed the flat of the landscape looking for anyone that might remain, wondering who it was that had called him. Who it was that had needed him.
The Jodesian began to doubt his sentience, thinking that maybe he had been mistaken; everyone it seemed had left and gone elsewhere. He had watched and waited all day long. Confused and uncertain now, he decided to consult the Mighty Gallie Tree. He turned back to the undergrowth and sought out the path leading to the tree, his thoughts immersed in self-recrimination, trying to uncover any errors on his behalf. Perhaps he had failed for the first time; he hoped not.
Emerging from the brush, he turned onto the pathway running adjacent to the river and almost tumbled headlong into the cold waters, tripping over an object that poked out from the bush to his side.
"What in the name of Azrael?" he exclaimed, gathering his feet again before turning to see what had caused him to stumble.
He just caught the sight of a small child as it edged sharply backwards into the bush, curling into a protective ball. Not wishing to incite further alarm, he eased forwards slowly, speaking as he approached.
"Well what has I here then?”
The child edged back further as he spoke.
“By the looks of things I is not the only one lost. Still, it's no good asking you to help me to find my ways home, you is obviously lost too."
He paused, hopefully, waiting for a response. None came.
"Well I suppose I could always hide in there with you, at least it looks safe in there. I gets the hibbity-jibbitys when I am alone, especially when it starts to get dark — like now."
"Stay away from me!" said a voice. "I am not allowed to talk to strangers — my mum said."
"Oh, you has a voice then. Quite-right. You're mum is quite right. We had better be careful then. I never thought of that. Perhaps I should be sniffling a snatch of me Rosemary. I'll be needing my bestest head on. What do they look like these strangers then, only I has never been seeing one?"
"I don't know, I have never seen one either," replied the voice.
"Oh dear, that isn't very helpful. Perhaps you should be having a snatch of me rosemary too. It's good for the forgettings. Might help you remember."
"Who are you and what do you keep going on about; who is rosemary? I'm not if that's what you think; my name's Billie-Sioux."
"Well hello to you, Billie-Sioux. And what brings you to my park all alone at this time of the evenings? Are you lost — you don’t look old enough to be lost."
"I am seven and I am not lost. I am having a sleep while my mummy and daddy watch the horses," said the little girl, uncurling from a ball. She stretched her legs out and yawned, rubbing her sleepy eyes with her muddied knuckles.
"But everybody has gone child. Is your mummy and daddy having the forgettings as well?"
The little girl eased out and looked around the vast open park behind her, leaning to the side of the bush blocking her sight. Her eyes widened in disbelief. The sunlight had vanished and the day was slowly turning dark and cold.
"MUMMY! DADDY!" she screamed, sensing a feeling she didn't like, a feeling that was alien until that moment. She panicked and scrambled from the bush. Tears had welled in her eyes before she had made it upright, and blindly she ran forwards. A few frantic minutes later she collapsed to the floor in disbelief, sobbing and wailing uncontrollably. All around was quiet. Quiet, all but for her crying.
The Jodesian fought back his own tears, realizing now why he had been called. The poor child was lost and it was up to him to save her. He had never been called by a child before and he struggled to remain composed. He would be no good to her if he couldn't control his feelings. But children were fragile, he knew, and full of the purest love he had ever come across. It upset him in ways he had not experienced either.
"I thinks the best thing to do is to be remaining calm. You'll never see your mummy and daddy with all those tears in your eyes. They'll be all blurry and you'll be missings them."
Billie-Sioux continued her crying.
"I has an idea," began the Jodesian, "Let's go to my tree and wait for your mum and dad to come back. Perhaps they are searching the park for you. We shouldn’t leave in case we miss them when they’s be getting here. While we're waiting, I can tell you a story about a Princess who lost her love. Is that a good thinking, do you think?"
He shuffled towards the lying body of the little girl, turning his face towards hers. She peered at him through her reddened eyes, her head jerking back with her emotions as she fought to control her breathing. He was close enough now for her to see his features.
She never realized that he was that old. She couldn't really see from her hiding place in the bush. He looked friendly enough, she thought, much like she imagined Father Christmas. He was as small as her grandad-dad, who also had big, red cheeks, but the Jodesian's contrasted against the snow-white of his unkempt beard and straggly, straw-like hair. She wondered what Walt Disney movie he had been in, for he seemed vaguely familiar.
"How do I know you are not a stranger?" Billie-Sioux asked. "And how do I know you can help me find my mummy and daddy?" she continued, dragging the arm of her t-shirt across her sore eyes. Her breathing started to relax, her tears all but cried out.
"I helped Princess Sydney find her love, when she lost it," he replied, smiling now that her crying had abated. "And my mum was always be telling me that if you has warm hands then you is friendly. Only strangers have them horriblist cold and clammy hands."
He extended his hand towards her, reaching out, but allowing her to decide. She looked at the coarse, chubby fingers. She looked at his dark smiling eyes, which seemed to reflect all the colors of the rainbow, as if seen in the last rays of the setting sun. Then, slowly, she extended her hand to his.
"See," he said quietly, "I be having warm hands, which is meaning I is friendly. I will help you find your mummy and daddy — I promises!"
They turned to the maple tree hand in hand.
"Do you really know a princess?" she asked as they walked, the sound of the nearby waterfall greeting their approach.
"Oh, to be true," he said. "I did and do you be knowing what — she looked exactly likes you. Isn't that a coincidentalment."
"You're funny," said Billie-Sioux, laughing. "You must have been in red group at school. My friend Jessica is in red group. She talks funny too."
The Jodesian chuckled as he lowered himself to the base of the maple. Billie-Sioux joined him on the root next to his. A tangle of fingers stretched out from the base of the tree, gripping into the ground at their feet. Each tendril stretched more than 20 feet in all directions. The Mighty Gallie Tree indeed looked older than the Jodesian, much older.
"Now where should I be starting?" he mumbled, scratching his beard. He pulled his waistcoat at the edges and crossed his feet, getting comfortable before he could tell the tale — the sound of the water behind him easing the tension of the dark silence that hung all around them.
"Why don't you start at the beginning?" inquired Billie-Sioux. "Once upon a time…." she continued.
"Why yes, of course. I's be starting at the beginnings. In fact I's be starting in the land of New Beginnings, for that is where the Princess lived. A 7-year old princess whose name was Sydney. And this is the tale of her lost love. It be called…. The Princess Who Lost Her Love."
A long time ago in a far away land called the land of New Beginnings lived a 7-year old princess called Sydney. She lived with her mummy and her daddy — King Shannon and Queen Dian, who ruled over the entire kingdoms. And what a magnificent kingdoms it was; it had been said that the first Unicorn was born there, such was its beauty.
Now King Shannon was a very good King. He was kind and just and wasn't quick to anger. Because of this he was liked by everyone and throughout the land there was much peaces and great happinesses.
Queen Dian was a very good mummy and loved Sydney very much. They spent hours together playing hide-and-seek in the castle and chasing rabbits along the riverbank. I even think the rabbits enjoyed it.
But one day Sydney overheard her mother and father talking. She heard her mother sayings how lucky they were to have her to love. And she heard her father's reply sayings how lucky they were to have each other to love. And how one day they hoped that she would find love, likes they had.
Sydney didn't let them know that she had heard them. She kept quiet and went for a walk instead, to think about what it was that troubled her from having heard it. She couldn't understand why she had to find her love. What love? And when and where had she lost it? Did she be forgetting where she put it? How could she have lost her love?
It also upset her when she thought about how happy her mother and father were, and how much in love. Was that because they had found each other? Had they lost each other too? She couldn't be bearing to think of one without the other and in her confusion realized that she would never be happy again until she be finding her lost love. She would have to search for it, although she couldn't quite be rememberings where she had left it. Then she realized what her father had told her once: that owls were very wise. So she decided she would ask the owl. Surely the wisest would be helping her; all she had to do was find one.
She made a packed lunch of an apple and a bag of crisps, grabbed her coat and crept out of the castle before anyone else awoke. The forest where the owls lived was a long ways away and she needed an early start if she was to find one.
It seemed she traveled a long ways and it was to no avail - when she finally came across one, telling it of her predicaments, the owl hooted that it could not help her but suggested that she be asking her father instead. She was sad that the owl could not help her find her love and decided to make her way back to the castle before it got too late. She was hungry again and didn't want to miss her dinner.
When she be arrivings back at the castle she found her father waiting at the gate. As she approached he asked her where she had been, to which she replied "I was looking for my love".
Her father, who assumed she was playing a game, was unaware of where she had been looking, or how far, so he just responded by saying, “If you look for love you will only find sadness. If you look for happiness, Love will find you!”
She wasn't sure exactly what her father was meaning, but as she was hungry, she skipped past him and forgetting about the whole matter went inside for a sandwich.
“Her father was truly wise, don’t you be thinking!” said Grandabill when he finished the tale.
Before Billie- Sioux could respond, a loud voice called out from somewhere in the park. They heard it call out several times before a faint light flickered close by. Unsure of who it was Grandabill gestured to Billie-Sioux to remain quiet until they knew who it was making the noise.
“We better be careful in case it is those strangers,” he whispered, putting his finger to his lips.
The muffled voices grew louder and more frantic until a male voice was heard to say, “Billie-Sioux — where are you? It’s daddy.”
“Daddy!” cried Billie-Sioux, recognizing her father's voice, leaping up from the tree before skidding to a halt. She turned and faced Grandabill before running back to give him a hug.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “You really did help me find my mummy and daddy, just as you helped Sydney. You really are a friend and much wiser than an owl. I hope you find your way home.”
And with that she ran towards her ecstatic parents. Grandabill, knowing his task was completed, slowly melded into the shadows unseen.
The Jodesian knew that they would come back for her, for it is true what people say….
"You always finds the lost things exactly where you's be leaving them last. So always look there first.”