The Micki Adventures

                                          By Linda Bindner

                                Chapter 3: Trouble in the Square

        Micki’s yell echoed around the central square like a ringing bell.  Heads instantly whipped around.  The guards, the prisoners, the buyers in the market, the merchants, Sondra… they all stood frozen, gaping like fish out of water, all eyes on Micki.

        Micki gulped.  Everyone was staring at her.  She couldn’t do anything but stare back, suddenly sick to her stomach.  It swirled and gurgled and rumbled and growled.  She vowed never to eat ice cream again.  But that silent vow didn’t do anything to make them look away.  They kept staring at her, and not knowing what else to do, she kept staring back.

In the meantime, the guard who had threatened the prisoners must have realized his adversary was nothing but a child.  He slapped the handle of his whip against his thigh in intimidation, squinting down at her.  “What did you say?”

Micki gulped again.  There was no doubt about the challenge in his voice.  The mean, flinty look in his eyes told her he was going to beat her up.  He was going to spit on her shoes.  He was going to make her bleed.  That was when her mind stopped working.

“You got something to say, little girl?” he jeered in a sing-song voice.

Suddenly Micki’s mind unfroze, and she relaxed.  He probably thought he looked mean and intimidating.  But she thought he simply looked like a pig.  Now she knew just what to do.

Micki took a deep breath like her tutor had taught her to do in situations like this, threw her shoulders back, and pictured everyone in their underwear.  “I am Princess Em, and I demand to know why these people are prisoners of the realm!”  There, that sounded good.  Though she didn’t know what a realm was.

As one, the gathered crowd drew another shocked breath.  Micki could hear their surprise in the hiss of their sudden whispers.

        The guard looked like she’d slapped him.  “The Princess Em?”  But he didn’t believe her.  She could see it in the mocking tilt of his head.  “The princess is in the palace.”  He didn’t say that the princess must surely be out of the way, like any good little princess should be, but he might as well have.  “Prove it.”

        Micki’s resolve wavered.  She looked at the silent prisoners, the silent guards, the silent, round eyed Sondra, the silent people gathered nearby.  All of them were too stunned to do anything but gape at her.  They wouldn’t be any help.  She was alone in this.

She gulped again, then grew more and more determined.  Okay.  So she couldn’t count on anyone here to help her.  They were all too shocked.  Or they were too scared of that mean guard.  No help was on the way.  She wasn’t even sure that the other guards in the market square would help her if she needed it.  She’d have to face this mean guard on her own.

        Okay.  Breathe in, breathe out.  Breathe in… and Micki let her breath hiss out once more.  With that breath, she suddenly understood one very important thing: the mean guard wanted her to be alone.  He wanted her to be scared.  She was easier to control if she was.

        Well, phooey on that!  He was nothing more than a bully, just like Tank.

So with another deep breath, she pulled the thin silver circlet off her head and held it out so they all could see it, hoping they couldn’t see her hands shaking, too.  “This is my crown with the royal seal.”  At least, she thought it had the royal something or other on it.  She gulped again, then remembered that if she sounded like she knew what she was talking about, nobody would ever think she wasn’t sure about everything she said.  “I’ve had this crown since I was born.  It’s linked to my DNA.”  What was DNA?  Micki wasn’t sure about that, either.  She just hoped it sounded impressive, whatever it was.  “When my crown is a Bracelet, it can’t be taken off my wrist, even if my hand is cut off.  Only Princess Em can remove it.  I’m sure you’ve all heard the stories.”  She made her voice sound as deep and grown up as she could manage, then crammed her circlet back on her head.  “Now I want to know why you have these prisoners.”

        The mean guard gave a comical jump back.  He was so surprised that Micki wanted to laugh and laugh and laugh.  But the situation was too serious.

        “Uh…” he stuttered, his gaze desperately darting at everyone.  “Uh… uh… for tax evasion,” he eventually said, then reluctantly added, “Your Highness.”

        Your Highness was another name she hated.  It made her sound tall, but only made her feel small.  Ignoring it, Micki turned to the man who’d been kicked.  “Is this true?”

        “Yes, Princess… Your Highness… I mean, Your Majesty,” said the man from where he still lay in the dirt.

        Only the Queen could be called Your Majesty, right?  Momentarily distracted, Micki blinked.  “Why are you… um… not paying?”

        “I got no money,” the man said, a tad whiny, rising to his knees as he said it.  “I’d gladly pay if I did.  But…”  His voice trailed away.

        Everybody else sighed in understanding as to the reason why the man had no money, but she didn’t understand anything.  “Why not?”

        “Well...I…”  The man appeared suddenly guilty.  “I…”

        “He’s a drunk,” the mean guard said in an unforgiving voice.  “I found him in Lew’s Bar, buying beer with his tax money.  Again.”

        Oh no.  This had happened before.  It wasn’t like the man couldn’t pay.  He just chose not to.  So now what should she do?  Micki’s swallow hurt her chest.  “Is this…?”  She had to clear away the lump in her throat before going on.  “Is this true?” she asked the man.

        The man seemed maybe a little regretful now, though not much.  “I suppose you could -”

        “Answer yes or no,” Micki said, making her voice sound free from emotion.

        “Well then… yes.”

        The mean guard gave a small smile of triumph as Micki frowned.  She didn’t want that guard to be right about anything, but didn’t know how to keep him from being right.  To gain a few precious seconds, she walked slowly towards the man kneeling in the dirt, acting like she was thinking hard so no one would stop her.  It was a trick her mother had taught her.  It gave her time to really think.

        And she thought, desperately.  And when she was desperate, she knew just what to do.

        “Al, do you know this man?”

        As if she called on her friend’s opinion and advice every day, Al didn’t bat an eye, but said, “I do, Princess.”

        “Is he the town drunk?”

        “He is.”

        “Can he do anything else but drink?”

        “He raises great vegetables.  My mom always raves about his pumpkins.  They’re huge.”

        Micki turned back to the man.  “If you can sell your vegetables and pumpkins to raise money to pay your taxes, why do you buy drinks with it?”

        “I… I... “  The man looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.  “I can’t help myself.”  He jerked to look at her imploringly.  “I’ve tried to quit drinking!  Everyone here knows I have!”

        Micki stared at him, thinking so fast she wondered if steam was coming out her ears.  She was glad her hair hid them.  “You know that the taxes build roads and… and schools and… things, right?”

        He bobbed his head.  “I do, Princess Em, ma’am.”

        “If you don’t pay taxes, my… the Queen can’t build new schools.”

        “But I can’t help it!”

        Suddenly inspired, Micki pointed to a small girl standing next to Al.  “Tell her it’s your fault she has no school.”

        The man repeated, “I can’t help myself, like I said!”  Micki just glared.  The man winced.  “It’s my fault... there’s no new school.”

        The girl grinned.  “I don’t mind!”

        The crowd chuckled as Micki turned her glare at the girl.  “You’re no help!”  The girl didn’t look sorry at all.

        The guard’s triumphant grin was growing again.  Micki groaned, hating it, but not knowing how to stop it.  What now?

        When her mom wanted to get back something she’d lost, like attention, she put her hands on her hips and tilted her chin into the air, so Micki did the same.  She could tell by the murmur of the crowd that they all recognized the pose.  To the man she said, “Report to the palace tomorrow.  You will tell Shem, the groundskeeper, how you grow such good vegetables and… and such big pumpkins.  You will help him grow them.  You will get no money for your work until your taxes are paid.  Then we’ll see what Shem says about you staying or not.”

        “What about us?” another prisoner in the line said.

        What about them?  She couldn’t save one person but do nothing about the others.  That wouldn’t be very royal of her.

Micki felt anxious, but one look at that mean guard made her come to a fast decision.  “All of you will work off your taxes at the palace, starting tomorrow morning.”  The prisoners sighed in relief.  Next she turned towards the mean guard and said something she’d always wanted to say.  “You’re fired.”

                                        ~~~

        As soon as she said those words, Micki turned and walked away.  She didn’t want to give that mean guard time to argue with her, or worse yet, threaten her.  She didn’t want to deal with him at all.  She’d much rather deal with Al… or should she call her Sondra now?  She wasn’t desperate anymore, after all.

        Micki was so confused about what to call her that when she stood at her friend’s side again, she didn’t call her anything.  “Thank you so much.”

        “But I didn’t do anything,” Sondra said.  “You did it all by yourself.”

        “I’ve never done anything like that before.  I was so scared.”

        Sondra gave a little laugh of disbelief.  “You didn’t look like it.  You looked like you do that sort of thing all the time.  It was very princessy of you.”

“Princessy?”  Micki grinned.  “What’s princessy?”

Sondra shrugged.  “You.”

That didn’t mean anything.  But it made Micki laugh.  “You were great when you answered me like you did.”

“I should have done more.  I was just so surprised!”

Micki’s face fell.  “Sorry.  I should have warned you.”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

“But I should have at least told you my real name.”

Sondra just shook her head.  “I bet people treat you different when they know who you are.  I don’t blame you for pretending to be someone else.”

It was Micki’s turn to look surprised.  “You’re not mad?”

Sondra just laughed.  “Should I be?”

“You’re the first person not to get mad at me about the name thing.  You think your brother is stupid for his name thing.”

“You have a good reason to want to change your name.   Theodore wants to change his name just to be different.”

“And about names…”  Micki grimaced.  “What should I call you now?”

“We already decided… Al.”

“But I’m only supposed to do that when I’m desperate, and I’m not desperate any more.”

Al smiled a forgiving smile.  “Something tells me a princess is always a little desperate.”

Micki smiled back in relief.  “Well, yeah, I guess I do feel that way all the time.”  And she was always desperate… desperate not to be bored, to find a friend, to know what was going on, to understand things, not to be humored, to be treated like she mattered.

The mean guard walked right up to her then.  “You can’t fire me.  I’m part of the royal guards.  I’ve always been a guard.”

“You like being mean too much,” Micki said, brave with her friend by her side.  “I don’t want a mean person to guard me… ever.”  She stuck out her chin.

Al gave him a sweet smile.  “But feel free to take it up with her mom… the Queen.”

        The mean guard’s whip handle snapped against his thigh.  Micki already knew he did that when he was mad.  But he just growled and walked away.

Al shook her head in admiration.  “Princess, you’ve got guts.”

        “I don’t know what you mean by guts, but I’ll be a princess as long as we’ll always be friends.”

        Al grinned and held up her hand.  “Pinky swear?”

        “Pinky swear.”  Grinning back, Micki linked her pinky with Al’s.  “Always.”