High-Five to the Hero Page 4
“I thought he liked dressing up. What happened?” someone whispered.
“I knew we were getting a young emperor, but this is a little too fresh,” another murmured.
“I can’t be the only one seeing this?” a third muttered.
Only one little child dared to speak out. “Your highness, I think you are very brave to parade around without any clothes!”
The crowd fell painfully still. The emperor stopped. No one dared look him in the eye, except for the little child, who stepped forward and stretched out their scarf to offer Piào some concealment. Then the child led Piào to a fountain to find his reflection. “How could I be such a fool?!” Piào asked himself, embarrassed tears stinging the edges of his eyes as he hurried back to the comfort of his room.
“How could I be such a fool?” Piáo asked himself.
A while later, Noble Li knocked on the door. “I’m so sorry, my young Emperor. I failed you.”
“It’s OK,” Piào said gloomily. “I let myself be led astray by those troublemakers. I just wanted everyone to approve of me so much.”
“Might I suggest how we can fix this?” Noble Li said. He walked to the closet and opened the door.
Emperor Piào lit up as he saw his treasured fashions inside. Noble Li was right. He needed to reconnect with his true self. The person whose clothing could tell a story about what he held dear. He selected a pair of trousers painted with a pastoral scene to honor the farmland of his empire. A blouse bedecked with fish to celebrate the water-faring people of his land. A leather jacket to show his pride for the ranchers of the deserts. Lastly, Piào added a cap as red as the rubies from the mountain mines where his father last stood. The new look showed the emperor’s thoughtful spirit, pride in his people, and respect for the past.
“Now the people can truly meet their leader,” he said to himself, looking in the mirror.
Noble Li reassembled the citizens for the parade. Piào invited the brave child who had helped him to be his attendant along the boulevard. “I’ve a big announcement to make and I need your help,” he told the child, and gave them the special job of holding the train of a great cape he concealed his outfit in.
“Assembled citizens,” Piào announced, “forgive my earlier error. I misunderstood my father’s last lesson for me. That to be worthy of your respect, I must above all respect myself. If I’m to earn the trust of a nation, I must trust you with my greatest asset, the real me.”
The child then pulled back the cape to reveal Piào’s self-styled coronation regalia. It was a triumph surpassed only by his smile of joy.
In the years that followed, Piào got his footing as emperor and made a few changes around the palace. Uniforms went by the wayside and everyone was encouraged to dress as they liked. The brother and sister con artists were apprehended trying to spend their gold bricks in the imperial village and were sentenced to rake the sands at the nudist beach.
Emperor Piào expanded the design studio into a space for actual designers where they could take risks and showcase their work. His favorite addition was an annual youth fashion show. Children from all over the kingdom submitted creative designs and the emperor would have them custom-made and modeled by volunteers who could be anyone from bakers to barbers, ranch hands to royals. Everyone had a fashion story to tell—and as for the emperor, the kingdom was forever his muse.
Pinocchio
Once upon a time, in a quaint village, there lived a carpenter named Geppetto. He had no family, few possessions and though his tools kept him company he was often lonely. One winter evening, as flakes of snow began to fall, he found himself absent-mindedly carving a log to reveal a friendly face. It amused him, and he continued to work until a puppet emerged from the wood. He sat the character upon his bench, crawled into bed, and fell fast asleep.
While Geppetto slept, his workshop was visited by a magical Blue Fairy. With a wave of his wand, the puppet wriggled and leaped upon the work-bench with glee.
“I’m alive, a real boy!” the puppet cried with a grin on his face.
“Not so fast, little friend,” the Blue Fairy interrupted. “You might feel like a real boy, but your heart is still made of wood.”
“But I want the heart of a real boy,” the puppet complained. “How can I get it?”
“That you’ll have to learn on your own,” supplied the Blue Fairy with a smile. “But I’ll leave you with a guide to help you on your way.”
He disappeared with a sparkle and a little cricket named Cinguettio appeared in his place. “I’ll be right here beside you,” Cinguettio said, perching on Pinocchio’s shoulder. “If you ever need help, just ask.”
“Ha! I don’t need any help,” scoffed Pinocchio, bouncing and springing around the small home. This, of course, woke Geppetto.
“Who are you?” he said, astonished.
“You tell me!” the puppet grinned.
Geppetto picked up the puppet and inspected him carefully, delighted to have someone to share his home with. “I’ll call you Pinocchio!” he exclaimed, hugging his new family member.
“And I’ll call you Papa!” said Pinocchio.
The next morning, Geppetto told Pinocchio that a boy like him should be in school. He sent the puppet on his way, with two gold coins for lunch. But on the way, Pinocchio noticed a group of kids laughing and rollicking on a stone wall. He watched as they pushed each other and thumped their chests together.
“Are you off to school too?” Pinocchio asked.
“School’s for fools,” the oldest stated. “We are students of the stone wall!”
“Will I learn to be a real boy if I study with you?” Pinocchio inquired innocently.
The kids laughed. Pinocchio felt glad to have brought them such joy and joined their group at once.
Pinocchio and the kids spent the day on the stone wall. They stopped passers-by and told tales of a fox and cat prowling the woods before selling the frightened folk empty bottles of “Rascal Repellent.” They kicked down street signs, so travelers lost their way. When an older man asked for help with a heavy load, they called back, “What’s in it for us?” Pinocchio thought this must be the nature of a real boy and he tried hard to do everything the others did. But with each deed, something odd happened.
“I’ll call you Pinocchio!” Geppetto exclaimed.
When he tripped a baker with her arms full of loaves, the kids all laughed in approval but Pinocchio’s nose wiggled a smidge. Next, he interrupted a men’s ballet performance and threw half-eaten pear cores at the performers. “You can’t be ballerinas, you are boys!” he shouted.
“That’s right!” encouraged the others and joined in. This time, Pinocchio’s nose didn’t just wiggle but grew. The theater director scowled at him and evicted the rowdy lot.
At lunch, Pinocchio ordered generously from the inn to impress his new crew. When the bill came, they snuck out without paying. This time, his nose stood out from his face like a weather vane. It seemed that with each lie or bit of mischief, Pinocchio’s nose grew.
“Pinocchio, you must pay for your meal. Look at what’s happening!” Cinguettio landed on Pinocchio’s nose. Pinocchio crossed his eyes to take in the malady.
“Oh,” said Pinocchio. “But the other kids …”
“They have greed in their hearts where compassion should be,” Cinguettio explained.
Pinocchio didn’t understand. The kids were having a great time—no one was in any danger. But he left his lunch money on Cinguettio’s recommendation, and his nose shrunk back.
“Hey, puppet! Shake the sawdust outta yer head,” the kids called to him. “You’ll miss the ride to the Land of Toys!”
Pinocchio followed their gaze to a wagon decorated with candies and a sign that read: ‘Next stop—everlasting fun!’ It was pulled by a team of donkeys festooned in ribbons and streamers. The wagon was packed with real kids just like Pinocchio longed to be.
“I’m not sure about this,” cautioned Cinguettio.
But P
inocchio couldn’t resist. He climbed aboard, dragging Cinguettio with him. They journeyed into the evening, indulging in gummies and fizzy drinks. The kids told stories about what might await them in the Land of Toys.
“I hear we each get our own bedroom in a grand mansion!” one kid said.
“I heard there are games where you win every time,” chimed in another.
“Best of all, there are no grown-ups to tell you what to do, and there’s NO SCHOOL!” came a cheer.
Meanwhile, Geppetto was worried when Pinocchio didn’t return from school, so he set out in search of him. When he learned that Pinocchio had set off for the Land of Toys, his worry turned to fear. He set off to the beach to give chase in an old boat that bobbed at the pier. At just the moment Geppetto shoved off in his vessel, Pinocchio arrived at the Land of Toys.
It was just as described: a brilliant blaze of color and chaos. Kids could try on costumes and dance to music under a canopy of fireflies. There was a parade, carnival rides, and a fun house. There was face-painting and boat racing and an endless buffet of sweets from custards to candy floss. Everyone indulged to their heart’s content.
The night finished with fireworks and the kids retired to fancy suites for bed. But as soon as the youngsters dozed, strange things started to happen. Large ears appeared on their heads. Gray tails sprouted from their trousers. Long snouts stemmed from their faces. They all turned into DONKEYS!
Pinocchio, who was not yet a real boy, was spared from becoming a real donkey. A tail tried fervently, but to no avail, to grow from Pinocchio’s wooden body. But Cinguettio could see where things were headed and begged Pinocchio to flee. They raced from the place, the sound of braying and snorting reeling behind them.
Once back in town, they made straight for Geppetto’s. But the door was locked, and no one was home. “Oh no!” cried Pinocchio.
“Don’t worry,” encouraged Cinguettio. “Just ask for help.”
“But real boys don’t ask for help!” Pinocchio said, making his nose grow a little.
“The heart of a real boy is powered by the help they give, and the help they receive,” Cinguettio urged.
Pinocchio took a deep breath. “Excuse me neighbor!” he shouted down the street. “I need your help.”
The stranger turned. It was the theater director from the ballet, who Pinocchio had offended the previous day.
“I know you!” the theater director replied. “You’re the nuisance from my ballet performance. Now you want my help, eh?” he asked.
Pinocchio gulped.
“Boys can be ballerinas, you know,” the theater director said sternly.
Pinocchio’s heart sank. “I didn’t know. I’m new at being a boy,” he confessed. “It was closed-hearted of me. I’m sorry I ruined your show.”
“Well, telling the truth and apologizing, those are the deeds of a heart that’s growing,” the theater director observed with a smile. “I can see you are a work in progress. Your papa went looking for you out at sea. Follow me.”
The theater director led the way to the beach. Pinocchio scrambled up a rock and looked out to the horizon. There was no sign of a boat, but without hesitation Pinocchio dove into the waves. He swam and swam as fast as his wooden legs could kick. Suddenly, he felt a surge of movement beneath him and a great fish rose up out of the water. It was a mile-long and as tall as a castle. Its mouth was wide open and Pinocchio was washed right into the beast.
Down Pinocchio slid, deep into the vast cavern which was the belly of the fish.
“Helloooo,” he called, into the darkness.
“Helloooo, helloooo,” it echoed back.
Then one extra, “Hello?” was heard.
“Is someone there?” Pinocchio asked into the void.
“Just an old man looking for his son,” a voice came back.
“What a coincidence, I’m just a boy looking for his papa,” Pinocchio replied.
Footsteps sounded and out of the haze Pinocchio spied a lantern. Holding it was a water-logged Geppetto!
“Papa!” Pinocchio exclaimed.
“Pinocchio?” Geppetto ran to hug his boy. “I have an idea of how we can get out of here.”
Geppetto led Pinocchio to the fish’s mouth where a small boat lay waiting. The two climbed aboard. “We need to get the fish to sneeze and shoot us out of its mouth.” Geppetto said. “But I’m not sure how…”
“I know!” Pinocchio exclaimed. He began to talk. “A real boy is someone who never asks for help and never says he’s sorry!”
His nose grew.
“Who’s never happy with what he has, and always wants more!’
Again, his nose doubled.
“Who doesn’t care about other people, and cares only for himself!”
By now, Pinocchio’s nose nearly reached the roof of the fish’s mouth.
“I have the heart of a real boy!” he shouted. His nose grew until it collided with the body of the fish. And then, unexpectedly it zapped back to its original size. Before father and son knew what was happening, the great beast let out a large sneeze.
“Ahhhhh … CHOOOOOOO!”
The blast sent Pinocchio and Geppetto through the mouth of the fish and out into the sea. They rode the little boat to shore, where the Blue Fairy and Cinguettio were waiting.
“I know what the heart of a real boy is,” Pinocchio panted as he climbed out.
“What is it?” asked the Blue Fairy with a knowing smile.
“A heart that is open and understanding,” he beamed, “that gives and receives and loves bravely.”
Geppetto had tears in his eyes. Cinguettio gave Pinocchio’s finger a squeeze.
“Wow,” smiled the Blue Fairy. “You’ve done it. Put your hand to your chest.”
Pinocchio did as he was told and felt a subtle thumping beneath his palm. With each thump his body become more and more like a boy’s. His hair grew soft, his skin supple, and his eyes moist. A warm glow grew around him and spread around Geppetto too.
From that day forward, the glow stayed with the pair. Pinocchio and Geppetto worked side by side in the woodshop doing repairs for the town. Later, they turned the woodshop into a crafts club called Heartsmiths. There, Pinocchio taught students of all ages how to turn a single block of wood into a fish-shaped bowl, and began a tradition of filling each bowl with notes from the heart.
Rumpelstiltskin
Once upon a time, hidden in a wood lay a small homestead. The people who lived there had magical powers and had fled their faraway homeland to protect these gifts. But it wasn’t easy being outsiders. People were wary of them, so they found it difficult to find work.
Among their hardship shone one bright spot, a promising young man. The homestead pooled their meager resources and put forth an application for him to attend the King’s Crown Preparatory School. They hoped that if he could get a great education, he could lift up his people.
Beside the wood, ran a delicate stream with a mill. The mill was home to a miller and his daughter Philomena. The miller saw great potential in his daughter and put in an application for her too to attend King’s Crown. It was competitive to get into and the miller embellished her application with the promise that Philomena could “spin straw into gold.”
King’s Crown accepted the young man and Philomena immediately, and sent for them in a lavish carriage.
“You can call me Slink,” the young man said eagerly.
“Is that your real name?” Philomena asked.
“It’s more of a nickname,” the boy replied. For his real name was jumble of letters and a pile of sounds. He didn’t dare arrive at a new school with a moniker like that, it would reveal his status as a homesteader.
“In that case, I’m Mena,” Philomena said.
As the carriage pulled up to the school the two could see it was an intimidating place. Tall bell towers loomed on either side of a broad entrance. Students scuttled from place to place with purpose. The principal’s office was their first destination.
“It’s Slink sir,” the boy interrupted quickly.
“Right, Slink, I’ll have you start in the Foundations class,” he said with a smile.
The two new students walked to their classrooms together. When Philomena entered the textiles room a look of panic crossed her face. Slink thought he knew why. Inside sat the school’s cool crew. The air was filled with their laughter, inside jokes, and jests. They played the ever so cool “Gems and Giants” game with buttons and rhinestones. Slink knew instantly he wanted to be one of them. Philomena, on the other hand, had noticed a pile of straw at her work station. She turned to leave.
Slink reached out and stopped her.
“Where are you going? These are the coolest kids in school. I’d give anything to be one of them!” he said, eyes wide.
“Are you kidding?” Philomena whispered anxiously. “I can’t go in there. My father lied on my application, and everyone thinks I can spin straw into gold! I can’t do that, can you?!”
“As matter of fact, I can,” Slink confessed.
Philomena perked up. “Really?! Will you do it for me? If you do, I’ll get you in with the cool crowd!”
Slink pondered the opportunity. As a new student he needed to fit in, and as an outsider he needed to succeed. “OK, I’ll sneak in and do your work for you in the night. Just put in a good word for me, yeah?”
Philomena nodded in agreement. “I owe you!” she whispered as she passed into the room. The crowd swarmed around her, eager to meet the sensational new student who could spin straw into gold.
“Welcome!” they beamed. “Can’t wait to see your talents in action.”
Slink watched through the door. He caught Philomena’s eye.