I spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen. Maris was such a good cook that I hadn't whipped up a big meal for a long time. I enjoyed the hours putting the pieces together.
I was done at six and went in to take a shower. This was going to be a big evening and I wanted to look right for it.
At six-thirty they insisted on setting the table. I let them because I think they were so embarrassed that I'd cooked the meal.
The bell rang promptly at seven. I walked down the hall, accompanied as always by Orlando. He walked faster now that he could see, but his sweet personality was still the same.
When I opened the door I only saw a big bouquet of flowers wrapped in shiny plastic paper. Tilting his head to one side, he peeked out from behind them and said, "I brought you some flowers. You used to like roses."
I smiled and took them. "I still do. That's nice, Papa. Come in."
I let him pass me and gestured toward the living room. "Dinner's almost ready."
He went forward a few steps, but then Orlando began weaving his way in and out between his feet, almost tripping him. "Get out of here! I hate cats!" He put his hand out, fingers spread. Orlando fell over, dead in an instant.
I put my hand out, fingers spread, and the cat opened his eyes again.
The old man stopped, back to me, and didn't move.
"Your name is Breath, Papa. Come on, dinner's ready."
He walked slowly forward. What else could he do?
At the door to the living room he saw the two women sitting on the couch. Both had their hands folded carefully in their laps over the wide spread of their silk dresses. For two such plain-looking women, in that moment with their faces lit expectantly, they were quite lovely.
"Papa, I'd like to introduce you to the Wild Sisters. Dortchen and Lisette."
For the first time he turned and looked at me. "What is this?"
"You're all my guests for dinner."
"What the fuck is this, Walter? Who are they?"
"You don't know?"
"I wouldn't ask if I knew!"
I turned to the women. "Please excuse my father, ladies. He must be tired."
He grabbed my jacket and pulled me to him. "What are you doing, Walter? What's going on?" There was no fear in his face, only distrust and malice.
Did I feel any pity for what I was about to do? Pity for the man who'd once upon a time raised me like a son and taught me everything he knew? Taught me everything I knew once again now?
I laughed in his face. "Do you want to eat first, or should the ladies begin?"
He said nothing, only continued glaring at me, holding my jacket.
"I think we should start with the story," Lisette said in her small, cultured voice. "A good story always enhances the appetite."
"I agree," Dortchen said.
"Good. Then please do."
The two women looked at each other. Lisette told Dortchen to begin:
Once upon a time there was a little man whose name was Breath. It was a strange name, but because he had such strong magic inside, whoever had created him chose a name no human would ever guess.
Papa let go of my lapel.
The little man was content with this magic for a time, but as he grew older, he realized it was not enough in life. What one really needed was love, especially if you happened to be Breath, who was immortal.
One day he was out walking and saw a beautiful young maiden sitting at a spinning wheel in a barn. She was very poor, but so beautiful that the little man fell instantly in love.
"What is your name?" he asked brusquely, not wanting her to know that already he loved her with all his soul.
"My name is Alexandra, but I'm so sad that I have almost forgotten it."
"Why?"
"Because the king is coming tomorrow and I lied to him. I told him I could spin gold out of straw. When he sees that I can't, he'll kill me."
Now Breath could do this kind of magic easily. An idea came to him. Perhaps if he spun the gold for the girl, she would fall in love with him forever.
At the same time, he had had so many bad experiences with love that he was careful about such things.
"What will you give me if I spin for you?"
"My necklace," the maiden said.
The necklace meant nothing to him, but he didn't want her to know that. He wanted her love, but love is a hard fish to catch and one must do it carefully.
The little man took the necklace and sat down at the wheel, and whizz, whizz, whizz, three times round, the spool was full. Then he inserted another one, and whizz, whizz, whizz, the second was full. And so it went until morning, when all the straw was spun, and all the spools were filled with gold.
The girl watched with delight, but never once in those many hours did she ask the little man his name or thank him when he was done. That made him sad, but those hours together with her alone only made his love grow until it was almost too large for his body.
I watched the expression on his face as the story went on. There was a softening there, a sadness for oneself, a sadness for the truth of history. Dortchen spoke quietly, but besides her voice there was no other sound in the room.
So the king had the miller's daughter brought into an even larger room filled with straw and said to her, "You must spin all this into gold tonight. If you succeed, you shall become my wife." To himself he thought: Even though she's just a miller's daughter, I'll never find a richer woman anywhere.
Papa stiffened. "That's right! He didn't want her. He only wanted the gold. I told her that! But she didn't want love either. She wanted to be queen."
Dortchen and Lisette looked at each other, but I gestured for Dortchen to go on. Instead, she looked at her sister and the other continued:
Everyone knows the story. The little man spun gold for the third time on the promise of Alexandra's child. After a year she gave birth. (To me). He returned and told her to keep her promise.
The queen was horrified and offered the little man all the treasures of the kingdom if he would let her keep the child. But the little man knew she had no love for her son because her heart was as white and cold as a star. Breath replied, "No, something living is more important to me than all the treasures in the world."
He looked at me so sadly, nodding yes, that's all true.
Furious that he had denied her, the queen began to rant and rave so much that her true, mean spirit showed itself. Finally, she said, "Go away, little man. I already have a court midget."
"She hated me so much! She couldn't stand looking at me!"
Lisette was upset by his constant interruptions. She cleared her throat loudly. Alexandra said other terrible things. When Breath had had more than enough and knew how much she despised him, he turned one of her fingers into gold to remind her of his powers. But his heart still ached for her, so he gave her one more chance. "I'll give you three days' time. If you can guess my name by the third day, you shall keep your child."
The story continued. The true story of Breath that Dortchen and Lisette Wild had made up to tell the Brothers Grimm more than a century and a half before. The difference was that their version was exactly the same as the one Papa had told me so long ago in the woods outside Vienna. Every nuance, every detail was the same; the bed of gold, the frog on the hand that was turned into the human child for the proud queen, everything.
Earlier that afternoon, with embarrassed looks on their faces, the sisters had told me how the Grimms had laughed and laughed at the name Rumpelstiltskin. They wanted to record the girls' story, but felt it was much too sad and wrong in its original form. Little magical men shouldn't be able to get away with stealing human children. It was simply too strange and immoral. No, their story would end with the good and virtuous queen guessing the little man's name because she was so worried about losing her child. Of course his name had to be Rumpelstiltskin because it was the craziest, funniest name either of them had ever heard. Wilhelm asked, "Which of you made that up? It's genius." Dortchen shyly said, "Me."