August 29, 1940; Thursday
Wack!
“Ow.”
I rubbed my head after I hit the ceiling of what looked to be a miniature house. I let my eyes adjust to the dim light. I saw a blanket and a long silver thing on the house’s floor. The tree house! The one Eamon built for me, and where I came before going to Narnia! Memories instantly flooded my mind. It was like revisiting a special place from one’s childhood, which was ironic since I was back to my twelve-year-old self.
I grabbed the blanket and electric torch, and climbed down from the tree house to head into the house through the back kitchen door. Upon entering, I remembered that I had written a note to Mother about my sleeping outside. I grabbed the piece of paper so she wouldn’t see it. I walked towards my room in the front of the house. Entering my room, I slowly looked around to take it in. It wasn’t even one-fourth the size of my chambers in Cair Paravel, and the bed was a third the size of the one I was used to.
An unfamiliar sound reached my ears. Tic-toc-tic-toc. I looked around my room and finally found the source of the noise. It was a clock. And by the way the hands were aligned, I reckoned it was only five minutes since I left the house – if my memory served. It was crazy. The clock also showed that it was late at night, and that I best be in bed. Quickly, I got into the small bed, said my prayers, and fell asleep. But before I fell asleep, I couldn’t help thinking that the sheets and blankets weren’t as comfortable as those in Narnia.
-x-x-x-x-x-
“Annabelle… Annabelle!” My mother’s voice gently rang out and reached my ears. It took me a few minutes to realize she was calling me, for after sixty years of being called “Swanwhite,” I had forgotten my other name.
I slowly rose, just waiting for my rheumatism to start hollering at me. When it didn’t, I remembered that Aslan had made me young again. I reached for a robe that hung near my bed, and while putting it on, I looked for a hair tie in order to pull back my mussed hair. I opened my door and listened for Mother. Her humming came from the kitchen, and I walked in that direction.
I stood quietly in the doorway watching my mother. She had an apron over her white nurse’s uniform, her red hair was pinned up out of the way, and she was making our breakfast of porridge. I saw love pouring from her as she made breakfast, something I had never seen before going to Narnia. A love any mother has for her child, whether she knowingly gives it or not.
“Good morning, Mother,” I said after I decided to let her know I was there.
She turned her head towards me and gave a smile. “Good mornin’, Annabelle. Breakfast will be ready soon. Will ya please set the table?”
I paused a moment before heading to the cupboard and gathering the appropriate dishes needed: two bowls and spoons, a glass for me, and a coffee mug for Mother. My glass was filled with tap water, since Mother wanted to keep the milk for cooking only, and I poured coffee into Mother’s mug. I had a bit of difficulty getting everything, for I was used to being taller. Mother scooped the porridge in the bowls and added cinnamon and nutmeg to it.
We sat down opposite each other and began to eat. I had to keep from cringing from the awful taste of the meal. I knew my mother did the best she could with what little she had, and I appreciated that, but I was used to the flavorful food in Narnia.
“How was yer sleep, Belle? Uneventful, I ‘ope.”
Ha ha, if only you knew, I thought to myself. “I slept… well.”
“No nightmares?” she asked, concerned.
“No, not really,” I answered. It wasn’t a lie. I still had nightmares in Narnia, but they were fewer and far between.
Mother gave me a knowing look, but my experience as a princess and queen helped to keep me from squirming. How could I tell her that I went to another world, grew up, fought in battle, led a country, got married and had kids, and all in the span of an English minute? It seemed impossible.
Mother ceased giving me the stare and said, “Now don’t ferget that Emma is a comin’ over soon.”
I hesitated scooping another spoonful of porridge. “Emma?” I feel as if I should know that name.
I looked back up at Mother, and she gave me a quizzical look. “Yer best friend? Emma Jones. Ya only asked me yesterday if ya could ‘ave ‘er over.”
That really made me nervous, but I kept a cool exterior. I finally remembered my friend. “Oh, yes. Thank you, Mother.”
Mother continued to glance at me while we ate, as if studying me. Though understandable, because no one could go through Narnia without changing somewhat, it was a bit uncomfortable. She seemed to be looking for something. Maybe what happened to me overnight, or something to indicate that I was still the little girl that she had yesterday – which I wasn’t. Her scrutiny only stopped when she kissed me goodbye before she went to work at the hospital.
“I will be ‘ome around five o’clock tonight. Emma may stay overnight if she wants.”
“Thank you, Mother. I think I may insist that she stay.”
Mother raised an eyebrow at my language. My guess was that I was speaking a bit too formally for a pre-teen or an ordinary Englander, for that matter. She began to walk down the sidewalk and got near the road before she turned around. “Could ya please make something for dinner, Belle? I’m gonna be very tired when I get ‘ome,” she asked loudly.
“Of course, Mother. Have a good day!” I yelled back.
“Ya too!” And she went off to the train station so she could get to London on time.
I closed the door and went to my bedroom. I checked my bureau to see what clothes I had. The drawers contained two uniform outfits, and a number of skirts, shirts, sweaters, socks, knickers, and brassieres. Four pairs of shoes sat on the floor by my bureau, along with a pair of slippers, everyday shoes, a pair that looked like they went with my uniforms, and a pair of dressier shoes. Next I checked my wardrobe – er – closet. In it, there were two dresses, a nice coat, and a few hats and scarves.
Closing the door, I turned back towards my bureau and caught sight of myself in the mirror above it. It was so weird! Even though I was back to looking like the spry, energetic twelve-year-old, I expected to see the older, wiser queen I had been.
I tore my gaze from the mirror and checked the clock. It was 8:55. I remembered that Emma was coming over at 9:15. Sighing, I opened my bureau and got dressed in clothes that I had not worn in many years.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Emma promptly arrived at the house at 9:15, with a sharp rap on the door. I quickly answered the door. She was the same height and age as me, and we looked very similar. Our mothers said the only way they could tell us apart was the difference in our hair shade – hers was a dark raven color, and mine was a chocolate brown with red highlights. Emma looked so young to me, but I was thinking from a seventy-two-year-old lady’s point of view.
“Hello, Emma. Please come in. How are you today?”
“Hey, Annabelle. I’m good. What’s with all the formal talk?” she asked, a bit confused. “You weren’t talking like that yesterday.”
“I’m sorry. A habit I picked up.”
“Picked up? You picked up the habit in less than a day?” she asked, even more confused now.
I gestured for us to sit in the living room, just to the right of the door and opposite my bedroom.
“It’s a bit of a long story,” I said.
Emma narrowed her eyes and smiled brightly. “How long?”
I smiled brightly back at her. “Well, it started last night when I went outside to sleep in the tree house…”
-x-x-x-x-x-
“That’s terrible, the way your husband died!” Emma exclaimed as I cooked a small dinner of chicken and potatoes.
“You’re telling me. And I had a traumatized daughter and son and a castle full of guests. I was lucky to have Laudine with me for a few weeks to help me.”
“Have you told your mother about any of this?”
I was silent as I mashed the potatoes.
“You haven’t,” my friend stated.
“I did just return last night, Emma.”
“So? Your mother has the right to know why you’ve been acting strangely. She has noticed that, hasn’t she?”
“Yes, she has.”
“Then she has the right. Especially to know that you’ve already grown up, got married, and had kids!”
“ ‘Ho, did what, now?” called my mother.
I froze for a second before I continued my dinner preparations. “Nothing, Mother. Dinner is almost ready,” I called back. Emma glared at me because we weren’t talking about just anything.
Mother stood in the doorway of her bedroom, across from the kitchen. “Alrigh. I’m gonna quick change before we’s eat.”
“Alright, Mother,” I said and then turned to Emma. “Could you set the table, please?”
“Sure thing. But you really should tell her,” she added quietly so Mother wouldn’t hear.
I looked at my friend. “If she asks me why in heaven I’m acting strange, I’ll tell her. But if she doesn’t ask, then I won’t tell.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Will you at least tell me the rest of it?
“Yes, after dinner.”
“Okay.”
I finished the potatoes, took the chicken out of the oven, and sliced it up. Emma helped me fill the plates with food. Mother soon came into the kitchen, and we all sat down to eat. Dinner was uneventful, though Mother continued to study me. Afterwards, Emma and I cleaned up so Mother could rest, and then we went outside so I could continue my tale.
-x-x-x-x-x-
“… And He sent me home,” I said as I finished my story in the night air. We had gone into the backyard so I could tell her the rest.
“Wow, Annabelle. You really have been through a lot. How are you going to deal with being just a regular person after being royalty for, how many years?”
“Sixty.”
“Sixty years. How are you gonna do it?” she asked softly so Mother didn’t hear.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not sure. I was hoping that you could help me,” I replied.
Emma feigned shock to tease me. “You – Queen of Narnia – request help from me? A commoner?”
I mock-glared at her. “Well, I could ask Bethany!”
Bethany was one of the meanest girls in town. She did everything she could to make fun of me, Emma, and our group of friends. The only reason she got away with many pranks she pulled was because no girl wanted to stand up to a taller and older teenager. Well, that was going to change – Bethany just didn’t know it yet.
My friend’s eyes grew wide with fear. I couldn’t help my laughter. “Are you crazy?! Bethany?!” Emma spat when she said the brat’s name. “I’ll help you!”
I was laughing so hard at my friend’s reaction that tears were starting to pour down my cheeks. “Th… Th… thank you,” I said, trying to catch my breath.
I looked back at Emma. Her face was scrunched up and looked hilarious. I started giggling all over again, and this time Emma joined me. We must’ve laughed a good five minutes before Mother called out to us.
“Emma! Annabelle! Emma’s mother is ‘ere!”
“Coming, Mother!” I yelled back.
The two of us got up slowly, leaning on each other so we wouldn’t fall over. Emma told me earlier that her mother was coming to pick her up because she needed to be home tonight. We walked through the house still giggling, though not as hard as before. We reached the front door, and our mothers looked at us and smiled.
“Good evening, Mrs. Jones. How are you?” I asked after I caught my breath.
Emma’s mother raised her eyes slightly before she answered me. “Hello, Annabelle. I’m well, thank you.” She turned to Emma and asked, “Are you ready to go?”
My friend nodded. “Yes, Mum.”
“Then let’s go. I don’t want to walk in the dark for a long time.”
“Yes, Mum. Bye Belle, Mrs. Reeder. See you in church!”
“Bye, now,” said my mother.
“Goodbye,” I said.
Mother closed the door and went into the living room. I watched her go in and sit down and stare at pictures of Father and Eamon. Knowing what she was going through, I went into my room so I wouldn’t disturb her.
Not knowing quite what to do, I changed into my pajamas and sat cross-legged on my bed with a small box in front of me. I opened the box and picked up its contents. It was my wedding band and lion ring from Narnia. Before Emma came over this morning, I had noticed they were still on my hands. I took them off so no one would question why I had them and where I obtained them, for it would be too hard for most anyone to understand. I was lucky that Emma believed me, but I wasn’t so sure Mother would. She believed in God and loved Him, His Son, and all the saints dearly; she also knew that sometimes He did things that not everyone would understand, but I was afraid she wouldn’t believe me. Though it was a silly fear, I never told Mother about Narnia.
I stared at my rings and remembered fun times that I had with my Narnian parents and Amesh. I remembered the first day I met Amesh, and Dad convincing him to dance with me. And Famina and Shream! How I missed them all. But as I became sad, I felt as if they were all present. It felt so good. However, I wished I could see them and touch them.
A while later, I heard a soft knock on my door. Quickly, I put the rings back in the box and put the box beneath my pillow.
“Come in,” I called.
Mother gave me a smile as she entered my room. She looked into my eyes, again searching for something.
“Is there something wrong, Mother?” I asked, trying to see if she’d ask me about how I changed.
She shook her head. “I’m just a realizin’ ‘ow grown up ya are. Makes me feel like I missed somethin’.”
I gave her a sad smile. Technically, she did miss something. She missed me growing up and becoming a woman, a wife, and mother. I wasn’t about to make her feel bad and tell her about what happened in Narnia. No, I wouldn’t do that to her.
I rose and gave her a hug. “I love you, Mother,” I said quietly.
“I love you too,” she replied as she returned the hug.
We stayed like that for a while before parting company and going to bed.
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