"You told him what!" Ingrid’s voice could be heard loud and clear throughout the entire cottage. Granted, it wasn’t a big cottage to begin with for Ingrid’s father was a desperately poor man.
"I told the King that I had a beautiful daughter who could spin straw into pure gold," her father said.
"You could’ve told him how our house burned to the ground last year when the milkman tossed his lighted cigarette onto the cat. You could’ve told him how our pie business went bust when our very first customer keeled over and died. You could’ve told him how grandma had come back to life after she had been pronounced dead from a fatal allergic reaction to yam cakes. But you chose to tell him I could spin straw into gold!"
"Ingrid, you’re too young to understand. It was my first time having an audience with the King. I had to say something important, something impressive," he explained. "I could hardly tell the King I was a poverty-stricken, unemployed man whose wife have left him for some clown from some freak show circus, could I?"
"A tightrope walker, dad. He was a tightrope walker."
"I don’t give a rat’s ass what he is, how much money he has or how his eyes seem to twinkle with different colours from different directions. I am reminded every single day every time I set foot out of this house, I see his exasperating face on every billboard on every surface in the village. So don’t tell me what I can or cannot say."
Ingrid’s father slumped over in his chair, his hand loosely holding onto a half-finished bottle of beer. He squeezed his eyes shut as though it would somehow erase some of the misery he had had to endure for so many years.
Life has certainly been unkind to Ingrid’s father. But he had not always been poor. It was only a little over two decades ago when he was a man of importance ...
December 29, 2004
December 21, 2004
Rumpelstiltskin 2: The marriage cauldron goes bust
... Life has certainly been unkind to Ingrid’s father. But he had not always been poor. It was only a little over two decades ago when he was a man of importance - a big businessman, a wheeler and dealer, a man to reckoned with. He had amassed a small fortune by manufacturing fish hooks and selling them to nearby villages. His astounding success in this venture could be attributed to the fact that during that time, fishing was seen to be one of the more exclusive pastimes, indulged only by members of the upper class who had indecent amounts of time for frivolous activities such as painting teacups, arranging flowers and knitting ill-fitting sweaters for their poodles.
It was during this boom period that Ingrid’s father met her mother. A viciously materialistic woman, Ingrid’s mother had fallen head over heels in love with her father after she had been unceremoniously dumped by her previous oil tycoon lover. Everybody had warned her father against pursuing such a shameless gold-digger but he had been too smitten to take heed for Ingrid’s mother possessed what they called a devilish beauty - one that could reduce a strong intelligent man into a bumbling fool in mere seconds. Seeing that Ingrid’s father was neither strong nor intelligent to begin with, one can only imagine the effect her beauty must have had on him.
It wasn’t long before the star-struck couple decided to tie the knot and it was from that moment on that troubles began to brew in the marriage cauldron.
Ingrid’s father had become too besotted with his new bride to pay much attention to his fish hook business. It was during this time too, when the upper class began to shun what they’d previously considered to be an elegant pastime. This was because an increasing number of lower class folk were beginning to express interest in fishing (their reasons were purely for survival and not for indulgence - a fact that the rich had failed to see). And not only were these new fishing enthusiasts quite adept in the activity, they were able to produce their own fishhooks as well. As a result, Ingrid’s father’s business took a nosedive and plummeted to the depths of bankruptcy ...
It was during this boom period that Ingrid’s father met her mother. A viciously materialistic woman, Ingrid’s mother had fallen head over heels in love with her father after she had been unceremoniously dumped by her previous oil tycoon lover. Everybody had warned her father against pursuing such a shameless gold-digger but he had been too smitten to take heed for Ingrid’s mother possessed what they called a devilish beauty - one that could reduce a strong intelligent man into a bumbling fool in mere seconds. Seeing that Ingrid’s father was neither strong nor intelligent to begin with, one can only imagine the effect her beauty must have had on him.
It wasn’t long before the star-struck couple decided to tie the knot and it was from that moment on that troubles began to brew in the marriage cauldron.
Ingrid’s father had become too besotted with his new bride to pay much attention to his fish hook business. It was during this time too, when the upper class began to shun what they’d previously considered to be an elegant pastime. This was because an increasing number of lower class folk were beginning to express interest in fishing (their reasons were purely for survival and not for indulgence - a fact that the rich had failed to see). And not only were these new fishing enthusiasts quite adept in the activity, they were able to produce their own fishhooks as well. As a result, Ingrid’s father’s business took a nosedive and plummeted to the depths of bankruptcy ...
December 20, 2004
Rumpelstiltskin 3: His Majesty gets greedy
... The day Ingrid’s father declared bankruptcy was the day her mother decided to move in with the village circus’ resident tightrope walker. Being the star attraction of the show (the only other performer was a man whose main act was singing show tunes while dressed up as a seal - it was a pretty dismal circus), the tightrope walker was earning an attractive salary and could give her mother the things her father could no longer give.
The breakup of the family had been hard on everybody, particularly Ingrid’s father who woke up one morning to find his wife missing and a note on her pillow that read: "Bye, loser". Ingrid’s father soon found himself plunging down a spiral of self-loathing, substance abuse and compulsive lying. And it was precisely this pattern of compulsive lying that has ignited their latest father-daughter row.
"Dad, I don’t mean to disrespect you but for god’s sake, you have to stop lying!" cried Ingrid.
"It wasn’t lying. It was just a small case of embellishment."
"Spinning straw into gold? You might as well have told the King I could teach pigs to fly or dogs to sing or cats to bark!"
"Ingrid, let’s not carry on over this," said Ingrid’s father wearily. "Besides, the King didn’t even look interested in what I was saying. He’s probably forgotten all about it by now. Why would he pay attention to the mere words of a poor man in rags when he could be listening to wise words of the wealthy and powerful?"
But little did Ingrid’s father know how horribly wrong he was, for at that very moment, the King was precisely that. In fact, he had been unable to think of anything else since he received news of the magical village maiden who could spin straw into pure gold. It was simply the most marvelous thing he’d every heard.
"But then again, is such a thing possible?" the King wondered. Miracles have been known to happen. There was that dead old lady who had suddenly popped back to life moments before they lowered her casket into the ground, scaring the living daylights out of everybody at the funeral and grabbing major headlines all over the kingdom. Anything was possible. Surely this was too?
"But I can’t be played for a patsy. I simply must find that girl and have her prove to me that she can indeed do what her father claims," he thought, stroking his beard deviously. "With a girl like that spinning all the straw in my kingdom into gold, I will soon be the richest, more powerful man in the world!" His eyes gleamed with lustful greed ...
December 18, 2004
Rumpelstiltskin 4: The royal command
... The King then commanded his servants to summon the girl into his palace the next day. He also ordered the maids to prepare a room equipped with a spinning wheel and filled from ceiling to floorboard with straw. "I will see to it that I get all the gold I want out of that girl," the King told his servants. "And if I discover that this is nothing but a hoax, the girl will be put to death."
The servants shook with fear and scurried away. It was common knowledge throughout the kingdom that the King was a wicked and self-centered man who’d come into power only because he had ruthlessly seized the throne which rightfully belonged to his older, but weak-willed brother. He had managed to convince his father, the reigning King then, that his brother was unfit to rule because of his tendency to break into song whenever he became nervous. The King was convinced and on his deathbed, had passed the crown over to his younger devious son, driving the eldest to jump off a windmill and plunging to his untimely death.
With power firmly in his grasp, the King was ruthless with his subjects. He cared little for their welfare, preferring to spend much of his time increasing his already astounding wealth. Throughout his reign, the King had had seven marriages, each one shorter and more shocking than the last. The last wife, whom he’d recently divorced on the grounds that she repulsed him with her social inadequacies, had proclaimed him to be the most vicious man she’d ever known. And how right she was.
The King chuckled to himself as he retired to bed, thinking of the drama that was sure to unfold the next day when the girl was to be brought to him. Ah, it was high time something exciting took place in the royal palace. Things have been a little dull lately.
Meanwhile, back in the little cottage, Ingrid was having trouble falling asleep. Tossing and turning, she couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling that something bad was about to happen in the morning. Full of anxiety, she finally managed to doze off just as the first streaks of sunlight began to stream into her tin bedroom. She hadn’t slept for long before she was awakened by an anxious knocking on her door...
The servants shook with fear and scurried away. It was common knowledge throughout the kingdom that the King was a wicked and self-centered man who’d come into power only because he had ruthlessly seized the throne which rightfully belonged to his older, but weak-willed brother. He had managed to convince his father, the reigning King then, that his brother was unfit to rule because of his tendency to break into song whenever he became nervous. The King was convinced and on his deathbed, had passed the crown over to his younger devious son, driving the eldest to jump off a windmill and plunging to his untimely death.
With power firmly in his grasp, the King was ruthless with his subjects. He cared little for their welfare, preferring to spend much of his time increasing his already astounding wealth. Throughout his reign, the King had had seven marriages, each one shorter and more shocking than the last. The last wife, whom he’d recently divorced on the grounds that she repulsed him with her social inadequacies, had proclaimed him to be the most vicious man she’d ever known. And how right she was.
The King chuckled to himself as he retired to bed, thinking of the drama that was sure to unfold the next day when the girl was to be brought to him. Ah, it was high time something exciting took place in the royal palace. Things have been a little dull lately.
Meanwhile, back in the little cottage, Ingrid was having trouble falling asleep. Tossing and turning, she couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling that something bad was about to happen in the morning. Full of anxiety, she finally managed to doze off just as the first streaks of sunlight began to stream into her tin bedroom. She hadn’t slept for long before she was awakened by an anxious knocking on her door...
December 17, 2004
Rumpelstiltskin 5: Lies, lies, lies...all lies!
"Ingrid! There’s someone here to see you," she heard her father say. "Hurry and get up. I think he was sent by the King!"
Suddenly wide-eyed, Ingrid jumped right out of bed. Was her father in trouble for lying to the King? Were they both in trouble? Had something happened to her mother?
Ingrid threw on the nearest dress she could find and hastily pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Without even stopping to check her disheveled appearance, she ran all the way downstairs. Please god, please don’t let them take dad away, she prayed.
Ingrid rushed downstairs to the kitchen and found her father standing there with an official-looking gentleman who held a piece of paper in his hand. Her father looked a little green. He must’ve been up all night drinking again, she thought.
Ingrid looked at her father expectantly. "Dad, what’s going on?"
"The King has sent for you."
"The King wants to see me?"
"He wants to see if you could spin straw into gold…like I said you could."
Ingrid almost felt sorry for her father when she saw how glum and ashamed he looked. She didn’t wish to create a scene, especially not with the King’s representative standing right there, but she couldn’t help a surge of anger and disgust from rising in her throat. She had known something like this was bound to happen and now that it has, what were they to do?
December 10, 2004
Rumpelstiltskin 6: Ingrid is carted away to the palace
"His Majesty would like you to start work this very morning," said the official gentleman.
"Will she be paid?"
"Dad!"
The palace representative remained expressionless. "No sir, I’m afraid she will not be paid. However, should His Majesty discover that your daughter is unable to do as you claim, death will befall her."
Ingrid gasped in horror as her father turned even greener. "Dad! Tell him the truth. Tell him it was all a lie!"
Her father stood nailed to the floor, as emotionless as a dead tree. His mouth opened but no
words came out. "Dad! TELL HIM THE TRUTH!"
"I’m afraid we have to leave for the palace now. His Majesty is awaiting your arrival," said the servant. When Ingrid refused to move, he grabbed her arm firmly and guided her out to the coach waiting outside. It wasn’t easy trying to force a struggling girl into a coach, especially when she was flinging her limbs wildly and howling, "Get your filthy paws off me!", but somehow, the man managed.
Ingrid’s father never came out of the cottage as the coach pulled away with a tearful and very furious Ingrid inside. She couldn’t believe the trouble her father’s incessant lying and warped desire for approval had gotten her into. It was because of him that she was being led like a cattle to its death and he couldn’t even muster the strength to see her off. Her father had actually passed out from shock and an over-consumption of alcohol at breakfast but Ingrid wasn’t aware of this and continued to curse her father all the way to the palace ...
"Will she be paid?"
"Dad!"
The palace representative remained expressionless. "No sir, I’m afraid she will not be paid. However, should His Majesty discover that your daughter is unable to do as you claim, death will befall her."
Ingrid gasped in horror as her father turned even greener. "Dad! Tell him the truth. Tell him it was all a lie!"
Her father stood nailed to the floor, as emotionless as a dead tree. His mouth opened but no
words came out. "Dad! TELL HIM THE TRUTH!"
"I’m afraid we have to leave for the palace now. His Majesty is awaiting your arrival," said the servant. When Ingrid refused to move, he grabbed her arm firmly and guided her out to the coach waiting outside. It wasn’t easy trying to force a struggling girl into a coach, especially when she was flinging her limbs wildly and howling, "Get your filthy paws off me!", but somehow, the man managed.
Ingrid’s father never came out of the cottage as the coach pulled away with a tearful and very furious Ingrid inside. She couldn’t believe the trouble her father’s incessant lying and warped desire for approval had gotten her into. It was because of him that she was being led like a cattle to its death and he couldn’t even muster the strength to see her off. Her father had actually passed out from shock and an over-consumption of alcohol at breakfast but Ingrid wasn’t aware of this and continued to curse her father all the way to the palace ...
December 04, 2004
Rumpelstiltskin 7: "Make me the richest man alive!"
Once they reached the palace, Ingrid was brought straight to the King’s private chambers. She trudged in and was enraptured by the sheer opulence of the room, momentarily forgetting that her fate. Having lived in a dilapidated old cottage for so long, Ingrid had forgotten what it felt like to be in luxurious surroundings for a change. There were heavy drapes hanging over the tall windows and soft silky carpeting caressed her worn-out soles. It took her breath away.
"Ah, you must be the girl," an arrogant-sounding voice declared. "The girl who spins straw into pure gold."
Ingrid looked up to see His Majesty the King standing right before her. It was her first time meeting the King and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. After a moment of contemplation, she decided not to do anything at all. After all, she would soon be scheduled to die once the King found she was a fraud.
"Little girl, you are about to make me the richest man alive!"
Ingrid shuddered at the King’s evil laugh. She wondered if she should tell him that she had never even seen a spinning wheel in all her life, much less use one to turn straw into gold. And as far as her magical talents were concerned, the only thing she could do was whistle every note to Yankee Doodle through alternate nostrils. Somehow, she had the feeling that wasn’t the sort of talent the King was looking for.
"Uh, Your Majesty…I have a confession to make."
"Ah, you must be the girl," an arrogant-sounding voice declared. "The girl who spins straw into pure gold."
Ingrid looked up to see His Majesty the King standing right before her. It was her first time meeting the King and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. After a moment of contemplation, she decided not to do anything at all. After all, she would soon be scheduled to die once the King found she was a fraud.
"Little girl, you are about to make me the richest man alive!"
Ingrid shuddered at the King’s evil laugh. She wondered if she should tell him that she had never even seen a spinning wheel in all her life, much less use one to turn straw into gold. And as far as her magical talents were concerned, the only thing she could do was whistle every note to Yankee Doodle through alternate nostrils. Somehow, she had the feeling that wasn’t the sort of talent the King was looking for.
"Uh, Your Majesty…I have a confession to make."
December 03, 2004
Rumpelstiltskin 8: Hi-ho, and off to work she goes
"I hope you’re not about to tell me that you are not able to spin straw into gold," said the King.
"I certainly hope that isn’t your little announcement because I don’t take kindly to being lied to. I have no patience for liars."
"Uh, but Your Majesty….my father…"
"Are you telling me that all your father has told me are lies? I shall have his head!"
Ingrid stepped back in terror. As much as she would like to strangle her father for getting her into this predicament, her stomach churned at the thought of seeing his head chopped and dropped into a waiting basket before the whole village. "Oh no, Your Majesty!"
"Then, I don’t want to hear anymore excuses from you. I have prepared a room full of straw for you to spin. I will give you until tomorrow to turn all of it into gold. If you fail, you will be brought out into the courtyard and stoned to death. Your father too, will be brought here and beheaded," said the King for he was a heartless man who pleasured in nothing more than other people’s deaths.
Ingrid nodded, trying not to cry.
"But if you succeed in your task, you will be spared from death. I think returning home with your life intact is more than any reward you can ever hope to achieve."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The King summoned his guards to take her away and bring her to the very end of the castle where a musky old room in the corner had been transformed from a hideous empty room into a hideous spinning room.
Ingrid stepped in and heard the door slam shut behind her. She took a cautious glance around - the room was clothed with cobwebs and crawling with tiny mice. The rough surface of the floor looked as though they’d never been swept and the window appeared to be sealed shut. In one corner sat a rickety-looking spinning wheel while the other corners were filled to the brim with straw.
Ingrid took one look at the amount of straw and promptly burst into tears. There was no way she could possibly turn all that into gold. Her life flashed before her eyes, in the same manner when a person is destined to die, and she saw her parents during their happier days back when they were rich. She saw herself picking up the pieces of her father’s broken heart the day her mother left, coping with his alcoholism, turning a blind eye to his refusal to work and listening to him rant about how unfair life was. She was just about to unleash a vault of memories involving her first pet (it was a gerbil which died after they’d run out of money to buy him food) when she heard a slight rustle in the massive stack of hay.
Ingrid held her breath and cocked her ear to one side. Was she imagining it? No, there it was again!
Before she had the chance to scream, a tiny little man popped out of the stack of hay as if by magic. He had a mischevious grin on his round ruddy face and a bushy moustache resting underneath a bulbous nose ...
"I certainly hope that isn’t your little announcement because I don’t take kindly to being lied to. I have no patience for liars."
"Uh, but Your Majesty….my father…"
"Are you telling me that all your father has told me are lies? I shall have his head!"
Ingrid stepped back in terror. As much as she would like to strangle her father for getting her into this predicament, her stomach churned at the thought of seeing his head chopped and dropped into a waiting basket before the whole village. "Oh no, Your Majesty!"
"Then, I don’t want to hear anymore excuses from you. I have prepared a room full of straw for you to spin. I will give you until tomorrow to turn all of it into gold. If you fail, you will be brought out into the courtyard and stoned to death. Your father too, will be brought here and beheaded," said the King for he was a heartless man who pleasured in nothing more than other people’s deaths.
Ingrid nodded, trying not to cry.
"But if you succeed in your task, you will be spared from death. I think returning home with your life intact is more than any reward you can ever hope to achieve."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The King summoned his guards to take her away and bring her to the very end of the castle where a musky old room in the corner had been transformed from a hideous empty room into a hideous spinning room.
Ingrid stepped in and heard the door slam shut behind her. She took a cautious glance around - the room was clothed with cobwebs and crawling with tiny mice. The rough surface of the floor looked as though they’d never been swept and the window appeared to be sealed shut. In one corner sat a rickety-looking spinning wheel while the other corners were filled to the brim with straw.
Ingrid took one look at the amount of straw and promptly burst into tears. There was no way she could possibly turn all that into gold. Her life flashed before her eyes, in the same manner when a person is destined to die, and she saw her parents during their happier days back when they were rich. She saw herself picking up the pieces of her father’s broken heart the day her mother left, coping with his alcoholism, turning a blind eye to his refusal to work and listening to him rant about how unfair life was. She was just about to unleash a vault of memories involving her first pet (it was a gerbil which died after they’d run out of money to buy him food) when she heard a slight rustle in the massive stack of hay.
Ingrid held her breath and cocked her ear to one side. Was she imagining it? No, there it was again!
Before she had the chance to scream, a tiny little man popped out of the stack of hay as if by magic. He had a mischevious grin on his round ruddy face and a bushy moustache resting underneath a bulbous nose ...
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