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Inbu’s Heart 3/10

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

By Chloe GilholyPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
1
Inbu’s Heart 3/10
Photo by JOSE LARRAZOLO on Unsplash

"Is that the farmer's daughter?"

"What was she thinking signing up?"

"No way would a prince want her?"

The first task was designed to sort out the wheat from the chaff. Pantalon's capital city, Bulbabutt was thick with people. Mei knew she was out of place in her brown rags and green apron whereas the other women wore fancy frocks and shiny rocks. Prince Inbu was nowhere to be seen. In his place was a clown dressed in purple stripes and green stars and a yellow nose.

"Good morning," the clown spoke. "My name is Samba, and I will be your host for Prince Inbu's tournament." Samba bowed before the crowd and twirled for them as they gave a round of applause. Mei watched the excitement and breathed it in. In this very Street would be the future queen of Pantalon. Mei pictured herself exchanging thin rags for bulky jewels and fancy frocks. She could handle that. "We are gathered here today to witness history," the way the clown spoke pumped Mei up. A dashing smile and fluid arm movements made it hard to contain her excitement. "Women have come far and wide to take part in Prince Inbu's tournament. The winner gets to become his wife. Now the first task is simple, you must follow the yellow brick road to the castle by sunset. Those who don't make it before the gates close will be eliminated from the competition. The task will begin soon."

Mei swerved her head. There was nobody she knew, but others would know her as the farmer's daughter. She rubbed her arms together and shivered. Goosebumps pumping down her spine. She rarely left the farm, and when she did she always had one of her brothers by her side. She had seconds thoughts about the whole competition, but it was too late to back down. What kind of shame would be brought to her family if she were to quit already?

A plump lady with pink pigtails smiled at her. The stubble under her chin stood out to Mei. "It's going to be such a fun tournament," she said to Mei. "So what's possessed a farmer's girl like you to join such a tournament for ladies?"

Swallowing her lip, Mei thought of a perfect response. "Just because I'm a farmer's girl, it doesn't mean I can't be a lady. How do you know I'm a farmer's daughter?"

Twirling her parasol, the lady covered her nose. "I can smell the manure from your boots. And you're the only one not wearing a proper dress. I suppose you can't afford one. Anyway, pleased to meet you, I'm Dahlia. This will be my fourth marriage if I win."

"Wait!" Mei shook her head, wondering if she heard Dahlia correctly. "You've been married three times?"

Nodding, Dahlia twirled her parasol again. "Oh yes, I have. It's rather complicated you see; I married one man, had a kid with someone else, married that man and had a kid with someone else, then I married that man and..."

"You had a kid with someone else?"

Dahlia got a handkerchief from her pocket with a man's face on it. "He died."

"I see." She didn't know what else to say. A part of her wanted to take a few steps back and hide beneath another group of people. She took one step back, then guilt froze her. Mei shook Dahlia's hand. "Anyway, pleased to meet you, I'm Mei."

"Hey Dahlia!" A colony of ladies in velvet frocks and enormous afros gathered around Dahlia. "What are you doing hanging around with someone worthless like her?"

"Oh Prisilla!" Dahlia laughed, stuffing her handkerchief back in her pocket. "I'm just being friendly, that's all."

"Be friendly with somebody who's worth being friendly to," Prisilla snarled. The peacock feathers and Japanese letters on her kimono enthralled Mei. It was a shame her attitude was a turn-off. "I bet she doesn't even know how to read or write."

Mei grinned. "Actually I can. I used to work in the library before it closed down, and I've published recipe books. Anyway Prisilla, do you know how to boil an egg?"

Prisilla gasped as if Mei had asked the most disgusting question in the world. "What a silly question. Of course I know how to boil an egg, and why would I need to when I have servants that do that for me?"

Mei shrugged her shoulders. "I don't have slaves. And I will never will want them either."

"You filthy pleasant!" Prisilla lifted the rims of her dress and marched away. "Come on, I can't even stand the site of you lot."

"Good one," Dahlia whispered. "I could never stand that bitch!"

Taking a deep breath, Mei took her step to the racing line and listened for the clown's hint to start. The clown blew his whistle and the other bachelorettes legged it. Mei followed the path.

"Good luck!" Dahlia roared to Mei as she ran towards the road. "I'll see you at the finish line." Despite Dahlia's size, she could run. Just watching Dahlia push her whole body against her long hair and the weight of her dress pumped Mei up.

"You bet you will!" Mei screamed back. It should be fairly easy, she thought, that was until she ventured into the forest where the yellow path became slippery and wet. She had lost track of Dahlia by then, but she always kept an eye out for the pink pigtails.

Women were falling over and picking themselves up. Others were trying and failing to control the creatures in the hope they would obey. Mei held back her laughter. Why would the animals want to obey them, when they're being slapped about like a ho.

"Hey!" Mei recognised white patches poking out from one of the bushes. Along with the sound of a bell.

"What are you doing? We're supposed to be following the path."

"Leave her, let the peasant lose!"

Mei took no notice and went into the bush. She knew it had to be Prisilla and one of her cronies. "It's you!" It was Bessie, her Uncle's trusted cow. She may be slower than the speed of light, but she had a heart of gold and was sincerely loyal. "Any chance you can ride me to the kingdom?"

Bessie nodded. Mei jumped on her back and Bessie rode on ahead. She took a few detours and triggered some vegan werewolves along the way, but Mei managed to reach the gates to the castle before sunset.

"Thanks a lot, Bessie," Mei said kissing the cow's cheek. In the corner of her eye she could see Dahlia sprawled out on the grass. "You're the best."

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About the Creator

Chloe Gilholy

Former healthcare worker and lab worker from Oxfordshire. Author of ten books including Drinking Poetry and Game of Mass Destruction. Travelled to over 20 countries.

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