Fairy Tale Falling

Wind buffets my face from below. I open my eyes. A bright blue sky surrounds me. I am falling.

I turn my head with effort, forcing myself to look up, away from the wind. Azure fills my field of vision. No clouds inhabit this sky. I can’t even find the sun. I turn my gaze downward, into the wind.

The whole world is falling. 

Islands of rock dot my vision, ranging from tiny pebbles to hefty stones to great boulders flat enough to stand on. Some islands comprise their own miniature continents, expansive as football fields. The largest host trees, buildings, even pools of water, though it’s difficult to discern details with the wind in my eyes.

We fall together, the rocks and I, all plummeting downward.

A silvery boulder lies directly below me. It grows closer. Against all known laws of physics, I am falling faster than this lump of grey granite.

Fear of a crash landing fills my mind. I wave my arms to dodge away. When I achieve zero lateral movement, I wave up and down to slow my approach. 

I am wrong to worry. My toes touch down on the stark surface as light as a ballet dancer’s. The ground proves solid. For the moment I can relax.

I recall nothing. No memories fill my mind. No short-term explanation or long-term history comes into focus. 

I check my clothes: white t-shirt, blue jeans, beige tennis shoes. My arms are freckled, lightly hairy, and lean with muscle. I check my pockets and find only lint, which I cast to the wind.

I look outward for clues. My little island blocks most of the wind from below, so it’s easier to focus. I watch as a massive boulder rises slowly into view on one side. Meanwhile, smaller stones fall past like sluggish snowflakes. All these disparate masses fall at different speeds.

 “It appears the larger the object, the slower it falls.” I speak out loud, my voice a baritone. “And none of the rocks tumble as they descend. That’s why I can stand on this boulder as if it were a stationary platform.”

I step to the edge of my granite sanctuary and gaze downward, the wind light in my hair. I perceive no bottom, just endless blue. Perhaps this fall is infinite.

Some of the larger islands below feature groves of trees or the colorful thatched roofs of houses. I can even discern movement here and there. People perhaps? Maybe they know what’s going on.

My eyes catch on the distant spire of a castle, colored pastel blue, like something out of a storybook. This castle lies far away, both vertically and horizontally. It feels like a beacon. I have a goal.

I scan for islands I can reach in the general direction of the castle. The closest convenient landmass houses a white, ovoid dome, like a huge egg. Curiosity fills my mind. The dome island lies about fifty feet below me with the closest edge about fifteen feet away horizontally. As I watch, this larger island slowly rises toward me, cutting off the angle for a potential jump. If I wait much longer I’ll miss my chance.

I step backwards two paces, take a deep breath, and charge into a flying leap like a superhero, my arms extended forward. The wind catches me almost immediately, blunting my forward momentum. Panic fills my mind as I realize I’m not going to land on the egg island as I intend. I stretch my arms as far as I can… 

My fingertips catch the edge, my nails digging into soft earth. Surely not enough of a grip to pull myself up. But the wind that held me back now holds me up, and even gives me a slight push forward. I crawl onto my new perch. 

“Praise the wind spirits, such as they may be,” I whisper. Hearing anyone’s voice, even my own, feels comforting in this alien world. 

I lay on the earth for some time, turning onto my back and watching the strange dance of gravity play out above me. The soft grass covering this island feels like a mattress. Perhaps I’ll nap for a while. But the image of the far-off spire sticks in my mind like a spike. I must get there. I rise.

The egg-shaped dome stands solitary sentinel on this island. The structure feels familiar. “It reminds me of an observatory, just without the telescope sticking out from the top.” I comment.

An open portal on the side of the egg greets my approach. Inside lies a single, large room, featuring a chair beside a mechanical device at the center. 

The floor is transparent glass.

My heart skips a beat at the thought of walking across this limpid surface, but then I realize I must not be afraid of heights. I stroll casually to the device, blue sky shining beneath my feet.

I sit in the chair, and inspect the strange device. It’s a telescope, as hinted at by the building’s shape. But this telescope isn’t pointed upward, it’s pointed downward. Down through the glass floor, to the falling islands below.

I inspect the controls, featuring levers and lenses. Shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out. Then I notice a note taped to the machine:

Gone to buy glass cleaner. Use this to help find a path. 

-SB2

P.S.

I'm one of the Four Skillful Brothers. It's a classic. Look it up!

Adjusting the telescope proves intuitive, though inverted. Within minutes I’m scanning the dizzying world below. 

My gaze passes over multiple islands of interest, briefly resting on a little cluster of houses: one yellow, one brown, and one red. Refocusing the lens, I identify the building materials: straw, wood, and brick. Small, pink faces appear at the windows and gaze up at me.

I scoff and move on, seeking the castle. What do I hope to find there? Is it just that it's a symbol, or is there something specific my unconscious mind seeks?

Finally the pastel blue spire I saw earlier slides into view. I scan about, making note of sheer stone walls, a raised portcullis, towers ending in flags bearing the most peculiar symbols: a “+” sign and the face of a clock on a white background. But I don’t linger long over each new detail. There’s something I’m searching for, but what?

I know when I find her: The Princess. She’s asleep, or appears so, lying in a glass case at the far side of the castle courtyard. Her eyes are closed tight. A corner of her mouth twists up in a coy smile. Her bob of chestnut hair partially falls across her face. Maroon lipstick paints her thin lips, matching her long dress. Crows' feet mark her round face. She's not the pure, calm innocence of sleeping beauty, nor the pale, youthful beauty of Snow White. She's some other sort of princess. I love her.

But she’s got something tucked under her left arm. I can’t make it out. It’s off-white, long, ridged. It’s paper… or the pages of a book. Somehow this fits but…

Anxiety wells up within me. I need to get to my princess. I must save her! 

I adjust the telescope backwards, looking over the islands between me and her, seeking the most efficient path. Then I notice something alarming, far in the distance, a splash of movement against the blue background.

I turn the telescope to maximum magnification. I want to see where this plummet ends. My vision focuses straight down, and I find a blue plane almost indistinguishable from the sky, but for being flat, static, like a bedroom wall painted the most anodyne color.

My view explodes as a rocky island crashes into this azure field. I pan back to witness brown shards spilling in all directions. I pan back further and watch additional islands crash into this lethal blue terminus. 

All these islands own the same fate. Gravity pulls us inevitably to our doom.

But maybe there’s more magic in this land. Maybe the same people who could build a reverse-facing observatory and a grand castle can also build a rocketship or floating cloud platform. 

And I must reach the princess. I must wake her up. I must save her. Why can’t I remember her name?

My hands shake as I adjust the telescope. I need to find a path to the castle. I can think about next steps afterwards. Let’s see… 

There’s a big landmass with a lake in the middle, if I can get to that… 

Then there’s that great mountain of an island dotted with tunnels… 

I could start by making it to the island with the three houses, three houses owned by pigs…

My heart rate slows as my plan comes together, and I realize this is a land of make believe, a land of fairy tales. I take a deep breath as I stand up from the telescope, I’m ready for a real adventure. I’m ready to save the princess.

My journey to the castle involves several adventures, which I’ll summarize to prevent this simple story from growing into an epic tale:

I meet the three little pigs, who fear me at first. They’ve been expecting a big, bad wolf, and suspect he may have shaved as a trick. I befriend them by helping prepare a garden salad, and together we dine at a picnic table. It feels good to find some friends and enjoy a fresh vegetarian meal.

On the tunneled island I encounter seven dwarves, who show curiosity at my story of a princess sleeping in a glass case, claiming they’d misplaced their own. They lose interest when I describe my beloved, who is not as fair as their missing friend.

I treat with a clever spider who trades me advice and precise directions in exchange for helping him set up a framed web to catch falling insects. Afterwards he tells me to keep an eye out for invisible silken threads and spider webs. I can’t help feeling he’s tricking me somehow. 

Then I meet a regal sphinx, who offers to teleport me directly to the castle if I solve her riddle. But her rhyme disturbs me, and I depart without answering. Maybe you can find the solution:

I may seem real yet I am not

Leave me and I’m soon forgot

Time means little, logic less

My meaning you can only guess

Every night I come and go

Without goodbye or quick hello

But if I’m deep enough to snare your mind

My exit you shall never find

What am I? 

One other brief adventure I feel compelled to relay in detail. On a smaller island I discover a grove of trees. I have no intention of exploring, but hear what sounds like snoring, which piques my curiosity.

I poke my head through the treeline to find a man sleeping on a bed of moss. His hair is long, and he sports a thick beard. He seems familiar, both his appearance and situation, but I can’t put my finger on either. 

I watch him for many moments, wondering if he’ll wake up. I creep closer, my tennis shoes deathly silent on the soft grass.

He’s using an old log for a pillow, and appears to be smiling under that big beard. Smiling as he sleeps, while surrounded by fairy tale creatures and plummeting to his doom. Is he a fool?

I lean in close, trying to determine if I know his face. He’s freckled, with deep laugh lines. His story is on the tip of my tongue, yet I cannot place him. Who is he?

I can’t wait around forever. I turn to leave. He speaks…

I regret…

For a second I think he’s woken up, but when I turn his eyes remain blissfully closed.

I regret not leaving earlier.

The mumbles of a dreaming man.

I regret not checking my blind spot. I regret not buying a safer car.

No wonder he can't wake up, he can only look backwards

I regret… not proposing to my princess.

Heat flows into my face. Surely he doesn’t mean my princess!

I regret… I regret… 

But he can’t finish the thought. His voice drifts back into a snore. I take my leave, thinking this fool should just wake up. I suspect no irony.

After several more folk adventures, I alight on the island with the pale-blue castle. It was not so difficult to arrive here. Not worthy of an epic poem, nor a novel or feature film. Maybe a short story. Maybe a classic fairy tale.

I stand outside the walls, staring in through the open portcullis. Across the courtyard lies my love, still in her glass case. We are both in the light, but the shadow of the castle wall lies between us. 

I’ve come all this way, but now I hesitate. It feels like a trap. Do I have an enemy? Did some nemesis I can’t recall steal my memory and ensnare my lady love? Doesn’t every fairy tale feature a villain?

I can’t recall a rival’s face. No wicked name springs to mind. But some greater fear sits in my stomach. What if I stand here forever? What if I never step forward? What if I delay so long that this castle crashes into the bottom of the world.

The fear of paralysis proves stronger than the mystery that rooted me to the spot. I stride to the edge of the castle’s shadow. “Be brave. Be like the knight in shining armor,” I tell myself, my voice quavers only a little.

I take one step into the shadow, then another, and another. I concentrate on keeping my strides purposeful. This task is small next to the islands I’ve navigated to get this far, next to the fairy tale denizens I’ve encountered. Why am I so afraid?

I grow eager to reach my lady love. I lighten my step, practically jogging toward the far edge of the shadow. Something tells me if I can get into the light, I’ll win the day!

Five strides from the goal, I bound forward, leaping higher than I’d have thought possible. I’m almost there. Almost… I stop. At the edge of the shadow I stop, suspended in midair. I try to wave my arms and legs, but it’s like stuck in mud… or a spider’s web!

Panic floods my mind. I flail, but my limbs barely move an inch. I am held. I am trapped.

From across the courtyard, my lady love opens her eyes.

Slowly she approaches, her maroon dress swaying only slightly. Her eyes are hazel, and even from this distance I can tell they are bloodshot. Her mouth hangs tense, bearing no sign of the little smile that charmed me earlier. I notice the object tucked under her arm, a thick book featuring a colorful picture on the cover: a red dragon, a knight clad in gleaming mail, and a defiant princess in a tower. It’s a book of fairy tales.

The Princess walks to the edge of the shadow, her serious face beatific in the light. She looks up at me with passive eyes, sympathetic but tired. She sighs, then speaks: “How do you like the stories today?”

“They were a challenge,” I whisper.

Her eyes go wide. Her mouth drops open. She stares at me like she’s never heard a man speak before.

“I'm here to save you,” I offer, my voice soft, barely audible. Why am I whispering? “You are my lady love.”

“Oh!” She glances down at the book in her hand. “So that makes you my daring knight.”

“I hoped so. But I’m stuck. I’m caught in this invisible spider web. I’m so weak.”

“Perhaps if we combined our strength.” She reaches up her free hand: her nails match her dress and eye makeup. I clasp her offered hand. I feel a little stronger already.

Together we pull, and it feels like I’m gliding across ice as I enter the light. “You’re saving me, aren’t you?” I murmur. I don’t feel like a heroic knight

“You are saving yourself. I’m just showing you the way.” Her eyes are wet with tears. Her makeup starts to run in streaks of light burgundy. She is beautiful.

My feet touch down. I am in the light, but suddenly I feel exhausted. 

“Are you… ready to wake up?” She asks.

“I suppose I’d better, this flying castle is going to crash any second now.”

Her coy smile returns. I feel a grin of my own slowly stretch across my face.

“I can call your parents. It’s late, but they said to call them any time of day if you woke up.”

“That would be nice.”

“And my sister is visiting. She’s down in the cafeteria. I can call her to bring something up for you.”

“The three little pigs fed me. And… I didn’t know castles had cafeterias.” I’ve forgotten that we’re leaving to go somewhere else.

She starts to laugh and cry at the same time. I squeeze her hand, and she squeezes back.

We float, rising up together, hand in hand. The fairytale islands crash quietly below.

Light surrounds me. I hear a repeating, low beep. I feel light, air-conditioned wind on my face. I open my eyes.