The Micki Adventures

                                        By Linda Bindner

                                   Chapter 5:  To be a Princess

Rachel was waiting for Micki when she got back to her bedroom.  Arms crossed on her chest, she impatiently tapped one foot on the floor.  Each tap sounded loud on the marble of the empty corridor.  “I hear that you had another one of your adventures.”  The derision in her voice was easy to hear.

But Micki wasn’t bothered by her sister’s bad mood.  “I did have an adventure, if you  must know.  I also made a friend.  An excellent friend.  Try not to be too jealous.”   She entered her bedroom, her nose in the air.

Rachel followed uninvited.  “This friend is probably just like all the other ones you’ve made over the years.  They’ll get scared after one visit and disappear in a week.”

“She will not,” Micki said with confidence.  “Al is different.”

“Al, huh?”  Rachel pulled out a chair at the table they shared for noon meals and sat down with a huff.  “That sounds like a boy’s name.”

“Her name is Allesondra,” Micki told her importantly.  “Most people call her Sondra.  I’m the only one allowed to call her Al.”

Rachel snorted a loud and particularly unprincessy sound.  “Yeah, right.  Why just you?”

Micki dearly wanted to say ‘Because I’m special and you’re not,’ but that didn’t even sound nice in her mind.  Not that it mattered to her if she was nice to Rachel or not.  Rachel was usually just one big annoyance in her life.  Still, there was no reason to be mean… on purpose.

“I get to call her Al because I’m a desperate Princess.”

As was typical, Rachel couldn’t ignore such an excellent opportunity to tease.  “She thinks you’re desperate?” she cried in disbelief.  “You’re not desperate, just bored.  Admit it, that’s the only reason you keep running away to Walltown like this.  You want the attention.”

Instead of getting mad, Micki just sighed in aggravation.  The pleasant afternoon spent with Al for company had clearly softened her.  “You’re mad because I have a friend and you don’t.”

“I have lots of friends,” Rachel argued.

“Not friends like Al,” Micki argued back.

“Hmph!”  Rachel jumped up, scraping the chair back as she did.  “If she’s so great, why don’t you just invite her here for lunch or something?  One look at the palace and all those guards and all that ruling-a-whole-country thing and she’ll be gone in a day.  No one wants to put up with that.  I bet she lasts as long as the other ones did… or didn’t.”

Micki insisted, “Al is different.  Now go away.  I have things to do.”

“Whatever.”  Rachel pushed the chair aside with her foot and left.

Micki wondered if all older sisters were as annoying as Rachel.  Al was the expert on older sisters.  She would have to ask her the next time she saw her.

                                        ~~~

That next time was only two days later.  Micki was very surprised when her history of Ruralusia lesson with the Tutor was interrupted by a maid she barely knew.

“Pardon me, Princess Em, but you have a visitor waiting to speak with you in the Main Hall.”

“A visitor?  For me?”  This had never happened before.  Should she go to the Main Hall?  Or would they bring this visitor straight to her?

“Follow me, miss,” said the maid in a pleasant voice, solving Micki’s problem.

“Okay.”  Micki jumped up, nodded to the Tutor that she would be back eventually, then followed the maid.

They rounded the corner to enter another corridor.  “I don’t think I know your name,” Micki said, mostly to break the heavy silence.  “I’m --”

“I know all about you, Princess.  Your name is Em.  Mine is Clara.”

Micki smiled what she hoped was a winning smile.  “Clara.  Nice to meet you.  I’d shake your hand, but we’re not supposed to touch other people because of --”
        “The Disease,” Clara filled in.  “I’ve heard all about that, too.”

“Well, you can’t have been here too long.  I don’t recognize you very much.”

“Very well, miss,” the maid corrected.  They turned into a third corridor.

“Yeah, that,” Micki said, unfazed to be corrected by a maid.  The Queen must have recruited this young person as part of the Grammar Police, a palace group she was very fond of.

“No one who works in the palace is allowed outside the grounds,” Clara reported.  “I haven’t seen my family since I got here.  It’s been almost two weeks.”

“What?” Micki said in surprise.  “Do you live here?”

“For the time being, miss.  I sleep in a room with three other maids.”

“Three!  I bet they make a lot of noise when they snore.”

A grin split across Clara’s face before she suppressed it.  “They do,” she whispered, glancing behind her as she did.

She must be worried that someone might overhear her.  But they were alone.  Though by then they had reached the Grand Staircase that led to the Main Hall.  It was a shiny, imposing set of stairs, but was really just extremely slippery if you weren’t paying attention.

Micki and Clara stepped carefully onto the top stair.  “You know,” Micki said.  “It’s more fun if you slide down the banister.”

Clara did burst out laughing then, and she slipped on one of the highly polished steps.  Micki steadied her.

“Whoops!  Thank you, Princess,” Clara said, still clutching Micki.

“We broke the no touching rule,” Micki said with fake sadness in her voice.  “Next time you slip on the stairs, I guess I’ll have to let you fall and break your neck.”

The dry comment made Clara laugh even harder.  “The Headmatron forgot to mention your wicked sense of humor, miss!”

“That’s because Headmatron Merni doesn’t like me,” Micki nonchalantly said.  “She thinks I’m too unrefined.”  The clicks of their shoes on the stairs broke the silence.  “What does unrefined mean?”

“I think it means you like sliding down the banister too much,” Clara said, then before Micki could ask for more information, cheerfully added, “Here we are, miss!  Mistress Al to see you.”

Micki had been watching Clara so closely to make sure she didn’t slip again that she had completely missed who was waiting for her.  She beamed when she did.  “Al!”

Micki raced forward to give her a hug, remembering the no touching rule at the very last minute.  She had to settle for a huge smile and a wave.  “How did you get here?”

Al grinned back.  “I walked right through the front gates.”  She gave a casual shrug.  “That’s when the palace guards practically jumped on me for inciting to trespass.”

Micki’s face fell in a swoop.  “Oh no!  Did they hurt you?”

That question made Al laugh.  “I think they would have liked it better if I really had been trespassing.”  She loudly whispered, as if imparting a secret, “It would have been some excitement for them - they look bored.”

Micki grinned at the nearest guard, who studiously looked everywhere but at her.  “Then I’ll have to try harder to entertain them.”

Al laughed silently at the guard before telling Micki, “I came to thank you for all the ice cream you sent.  You didn’t have to do that.”

For a minute, Micki didn’t know what she was talking about.  Then she remembered asking the Tutor to pay back her friend for the ice cream she’d bought a few days ago.  “The Tutor was just supposed to send you money for the ice-cream you bought for me.  Did he go overboard again?”

Al nodded.  “I’ll say!  I think we have every ice cream flavor ever made in Ruralusia sitting in our freezer.”

Micki smiled.  “Just as long as he included all the chocolate flavors.”

        “There are chocolate flavors I’ve never even heard of.  Tank is particularly happy that I met you.”  She leaned in to whisper, “Tank loves ice-cream.”

        “It’s amazing that Tank loves anything,” Micki noted.  “The other day, he thought I was just some dumb girl that he didn’t want to have anything to do with.”

        “He would be saying something different today.”

        “Yeah, like ‘pass the ice cream!’”

        The two laughed loud and long as if they couldn’t laugh enough.

        “Hey, speaking of food, would you like to come to lunch tomorrow?  Rachel says you’ll never come back again after this visit today, but I say you will.  Help me make a liar out of her.”

        “I’d love to!” Al said with a grin.

        “How about midday?”

        “That is the usual time for lunch,” Al teased.  “I’ll be here.”

        “See you then!”

                                                ~~~

        The next day, the Tutor left Micki to meet Al in the Main Hall when she arrived at the palace.  It was a full half hour later that they arrived at Micki’s room, the Tutor unruffled as always.  Al looked slightly pink… and put out.

        “He made me take a bath!” Al declared the minute Micki’s door was closed and they were alone.  “Like I’m not clean enough for the palace!”

        “Oh,” Micki said in some despair.  “That wasn’t what he thought.  It’s just new orders from the Queen.  It’s because of The Disease.  I guess it’s getting pretty bad in other countries.  She doesn’t want to take any chances it could end up here.”

        “But I’m not from another country!” Al said indignantly.

        “No one’s sure if it’s spread by touch or air or both.  The healers say it’s better to be careful than dead.  If any of your family met someone with it, then touched you, then you touch me, then --”

        “Okay, okay, I get it,” Al grumbled none too happily.

        In a weird way, Micki was glad that her friend wasn’t always the sunny, laughing person she knew.  Getting Al to laugh was her special talent.

        So she led Al straight to the table, which was set with several dishes.  “Guess what we’re having for lunch?”

        “Hmmm.  Pizza?”

        Micki pulled off a dish cover to reveal a plate piled high with the main delicacy surrounded by small bowls full of a yellow cream.  “Breaded fish sticks and vanilla pudding.”

        “Yum!”  Al grabbed the nearest fish stick and dipped it in vanilla pudding, sucking on it happily.

        The two sat down, prepared to devour every morsel in sight.  “Does anybody in Walltown have The Disease yet?” Micki wanted to know while slurping the pudding off a fish stick.

        “Not that I’ve heard,” Al said around her own stick.  “Are you sure they’re not making it up?”

        “I wish they were,” Micki told her friend.  “The Tutor sure thinks it’s real.  He won’t let me do anything.”

“Isn’t that up to the Queen?”  Al paused thoughtfully.  “Should I call her that?”
Micki shrugged.  “If you want to.”

“I never know what to call people here,” Al complained.  “Except you.  You’re Micki.”

Micki grinned, thrilled to be called by her favorite name.  Even if it wasn’t her real name.     “Rachel’s so jealous.”

Al looked around the spacious room.  “Do I get to meet this jealous sister of yours?”

Micki rolled her eyes.  “You won’t be able to help it.  She’ll come barging in whether we want her to or not.”

As if she had been waiting for the perfect moment, Rachel pushed open the door without knocking first.   “Thought you’d be in here.  I had to meet this friend of yours myself to make sure she’s real.”

Al smiled in her direction and waved.  “Hello, Princess!”

Rachel ignored the friendly gesture.  “What are you eating?”  She leaned over the table and frowned.

“It’s fish sticks,” said Micki.

“And vanilla pudding,” added Al.

Rachel gave an exploratory sniff, then wrinkled her nose.  “It smells disgusting!”

Micki heaved a long-suffering sigh.  “That’s because someone like you can’t smell how great it is.  Now go away.  We’re having fun.”

“No.”  Rachel pulled out a chair and sat, reaching for her own fish stick to dip into the nearest bowl of vanilla pudding.

Micki turned to Al.  “Are all older sisters this annoying?”

Al squelched the smile threatening to burst across her face, but wasn’t very successful.  “Yes!  In fact, yours isn’t as bad as mine… so far.”

“Really?  I can’t even imagine that.”

Al laughed while Rachel frowned even more.

“Fine,” Rachel said to Micki and Al.  “You two laugh all you want now.  Someday you’ll get what’s coming to you!”  She tossed her fish stick down on the table and left.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Al.

Micki just rolled her eyes again.  “She’s always in a bad mood.  Ignore her.  You’re right; fish sticks and vanilla pudding is good!”  She pulled the bowl of pudding that Rachel had been using closer to her, and reached for more fish.

“See?”  Al beamed.  “My dad knew what he was talking about.  Rachel doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

“And I’m not going to tell her, either, or she’ll just come back.”

“Do you often eat with just your sister?”

“Yeah,” Micki grumbled.  “And the Tutor.  We don’t see our Mom and Dad very often.”

“Well, I suppose they’re busy.  They do rule the country.”

“Only Mom can rule.  Then Rachel, then me.  Dad is just married to her.”

“Oh.”  Al’s tone showed she clearly hadn’t known this.  “Are you scared to rule a whole country?”

“Not really.”  Micki wiped her hands like she’d been shown in countless lessons on good manners.  Then she realized what she’d just said.  “I mean, it’s not as if I’m just so brave.  But it isn’t very likely that I’ll ever rule at all.”  She heaved a huge sigh.  “I’m the in case child.  So I’m just here taking up space in case I’m ever needed.”

Al smiled a gentle smile.  “I don’t think you just take up space.”

Micki brightened at that pronouncement.  “Really?”

“And that person I saw you with yesterday... the one you helped on the stairs... she seems to like you just fine.  And the guards perked up right away when I said I wanted to see you.  One guard says she thinks it’s funny that you call yourself Micki instead of ‘the princess’ and don’t have a lot of attitude or anything.”

Micki had never heard this, either.  “Rachel has enough attitude for both of us,” she said with a shrug.  “Mom says she has what she calls princessetude.”

Al laughed.

Micki said, “She thinks I’ll go through the same thing when I’m twelve.”  She leaned in close to her friend.  “If I start reminding you of Rachel, please --”
        “I’ll stop you,” Al promised.  “Pinky swear.”

Micki grinned and stuck her own pinky out.  “Me too.”