Isn't Just For Fairy Tales
by Trish

Rated G for goofy



"Once upon a time. . . that's how you start a story." A little girl dressed in a pink sweatshirt with a Pokeman character on it spoke from her spot on the carpet. She gazed up at the man sittting in front of her." All the old fairy tales start that way."

"Old?" he cocked his head slightly to the side.

"Yeah, the old ones," another little voice replied.

"Like Sleeping Beauty," another contributed.

"Snow White and the Seven Dwarves," a young boy said adding to the discussion.

"Or my favorite, Cinderella," the girl who had started the whole fairy tale thing said wistfully. The boys that were seated on the carpeted floor groaned loudly.

"I thought those were movies made by Disney," the man replied as giggles echoed around the room.

"You're funny, Mr. Jarod." The walked over to the book shelf, removed a thick book and then returned to her spot on the carpet, holding the book out to him.

"Didn't your mom every read you fairy tales when you were little?" she asked in hushed tones.

"I don't remember my parents," his reply was greeted with 'oooohhs' and 'aaaaaahs' and then the ringing of a school bell signalling that it was time to go home.

The little girl who had wanted the story in the first place hung back as the other children scrambled for their coats, bookbags and cache of Halloween loot. She slowly walked over to were Jarod was sitting, the fariy tale book resting on his lap, one finger slowly tracing the title.

"You can take the book home, Mis'er Jarod. As long as you promise to return it," she smiled.

" Mercy, hurry," a woman holding a squriming baby, dressed as an egg, stood in the door way," We'll be late for the costume parade at the mall."

"Go on, Mercy. You don't want to miss the Halloween Parade," he smiled, " I promise to return the book."

"Pinkie swear," she held out her little finger, waiting, then reached down and took his, locking them together before giving a quick shake.

"Mercy, don't bother Mr. Sullivan."

"She's not a bother, Mrs. Maxwell. Really."

" Bye, Mister Jarod. You read that book so that tomorrow you can tell us a fairy tale, okay," she skipped over to her mother and slipped a small hand into the waiting one.


Inserting the key into the lock of his apartment door, Jarod laced his briefcase on the small table located in front of the couch. Making his way to the kitchen, he grabbed himself a can of soda out of the fridge and made his way to the bed. Settling himself down, he opened the book that Mercy had loaned him and started to read. He made has way through half of the book and true enough each story began with those four words. He got up from the bed and sat down at his laptop and began to write. . . . . .

" Once upon a time there was this lonely little boy that had no memories of his childhood. He had been taken away from his parents to a dark place. There he met a young girl. . . . .

Jarod stopped typing for the ending of this particular fairy tale had yet to be decided, he thought. Reaching for his phone, he hit the keypad. . . . .waiting.

"What?" came through the receiver.

"Why do they all start with Once upon a time?"

" What's the trick this time?"

"No trick, Miss Parker. Fairy Tales, did you notice that they all start with once upon a time?"

"They're make believe, Jarod. That's why."

"Oh!" his response barely audible.

"You sound disappointed."

" Were we. . . . .?"

"Were we what, Jarod?"

"Make believe too."

"No, Jarod. We were real, are real," she said softly.

"I am glad, now I can finish it."

"Finish it?"

"My once upon a time."