by Christine Stoddard

Created on: September 09, 2009

QUAIL BELL

Fantomina could recite the legend of the quail bell since she was nearly small enough to fit into the glorified faerie creation herself. She had learned it from her great-great-great aunt, a shriveled, toothless woman with one eye and a single mauve scarf to cover her bald head. Ever since then, Fantomina guarded the details of the story, save for bargaining purposes and special occasions. It was the most coveted yarn in all the land, one even the most talented bards failed to steal from the lucky lass.

One early morning, in the soft glows of nascent sunlight, Fantomina was bent over a water pump with her girl cousin, Autumn. The day's chores had only begun, yet Fantomina was already exhausted. Autumn, meanwhile, carelessly flounced to and fro in her pale petticoats. Fantomina wiped the sweat gushing from her brow, moved the next pail into place, and primed the pump again. As had become habitual within the last several months, Autumn begged Fantomina to tell her the story of the quail bell. She twirled her pigtails and kissed Fantomina's salty cheeks in between whines instead of holding one of the wooden pails as her cousin asked. Fantomina finally slammed down the pail she was holding, splashing a small ocean's worth of water all over the ground, Autumn, and herself. So strong was her movement that her bun even fell loose. She resembled a mad woman just recently escaped from her prison.

"Fine," Fantomina snarled, "I'll tell the tale, but only if you help me fill up the rest of these pails, feed the lambs, snap the old hen's neck, and boil the potatoes all this week."

Autumn blinked and looked at Fantomina for a moment. "It's worth it," the little one finally uttered, "It's worth it if you tell the story for real-you know, the way it's meant to be told."

Fantomina spat on the soil. She and her cousin crooked forward to watch the saliva soak into the crevices formed by cracked earth. Once the final bubble of spittle had vanished, Fantomina stared at Autumn and whispered, "I'll tell you, but you must keep it a secret for always."

"Of course."

"I'm serious, Autumn. If you tell a soul even the vaguest outlines of the story, the quail bell will haunt you for the rest of your days. Understand?"

Autumn nodded, her sweet face stretched into the gravest expression.

"I'll begin then," Fantomina muttered and wiped her hands on her skirt.

Autumn plopped down, fixing her gaze on the peasant farm girl standing before her. Fantomina coughed as she

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• 5
• 6
• Next Page >>