Fairy Tale

The car slowly pulls up to the outstretched thumb of the hitchhiker. The hitchhiker stares tentatively as the window jerks down. It’s a ‘do it yourself’ wind down wind up window and it screeches painfully as the faces inside the car lurch into view. The driver looks to be in his late 20’s but his worn skin makes his age hard to place. The passenger’s face his hidden behind a mop of thick black hair that sprawls out from beneath a tilted baseball cap. The driver speaks first in thick Maori accent, “You look a little lost bru”. The Hitchhiker responds nervously, “Yeah a little, I am looking for the cheeky camel…it’s a bar.” The driver laughs, “yeah we know it, your a long way from town though. You want a ride”. “Erm… yeah sure you, as long as it’s not a problem”. The driver laughs again, “No problem man; jump in.” The hitchhiker swings the back door open and slides into the car scattering empty beer bottles off the seats and onto the floor. The car reeks of stale beer and marijuana and the hitchhiker feels his heartbeat quicken. The passenger leans back over his seat handing their new cargo a beer, “you want a beer mate it’s a long drive to the camel.” The hitchhiker shakes his head but the passenger insists and he reluctantly he cracks open the drink.
The car rattles along the road and the hitchhiker passes the time by gazing out the window sipping slowly on his beer. He is content sitting in silence until all of a sudden a broken down house rears its ugly head. The paint is peeling off the outside walls and the door is barley clinging to its hinges. On any other day the hitchhiker may have said nothing at all but the pot in the air and the beer in his stomach loosened his lips. “That’s a beat down house”. The driver responds with frightening quickness, “Oh yeah man the ‘big O’ used to live there”. “The Big O, What does the O stand for?” The driver smirked, “I don’t know bro, but most people say it stands for Ogre. Anyway no one fucked with the Big O.” “Yeah but if you want to know about the Big O” the passenger chipped in, “you got to start with the girl”. The driver chuckled, “yeah man it always starts with the girl”.
Ioana was a frail and lost girl. Her skin was wrapped so tightly round the bone she looked more like a skeleton than a lady. She prowled the alleyways of sordid cities and sold her body and soul to the torrid creatures that lived there. She would choke back tears as the ghoulish hands explored her and wish that her father was still with her. Wished that he had not been taken so cruelly from her, wished there had been a cure and wished she had not wasted so many nights praying he would get better. Life had been cruel to Ioana and she spiraled deeper and deeper into sadness. She drifted through the night like a shadow; barely aware of the world around her and every step brought her closer to her own demise. It was as she walked with such certainty towards the very end that she stumbled upon the ogre.
The Big O guarded the doors to the underworld the darkest and dirtiest club in town. His skin was like tanned stone; resistant to the barbs and taunts of the demons that surrounded him. His gaze was unblinking and his face bore a constant grimace. Spider wed tattoos crawled across his elbows and etched in ink across his knuckles were the words hate and pain. The world seemed a little safer around him and that is what drew poor Ioana to him. She stumbled up to him and fell so helpless in front of him that even the giant flinched, and for second the unblinking eyes were filled with tears. Without hesitation he scooped her up in his arms, he was so big so imposing that to a passerby it looked as if he could have cradled her in the palm of his hand. Ioana just laid in his arms her skinny wrists dangling helplessly her body twisted and contorted. The Ogre swept back her matted hair and gazed into her sorceress eyes; enticed by such frail beauty and so angry at a world that said she couldn’t be saved.
The car bumped violently as the road became riddled with pot holes, sending its passengers bouncing around. “And what happened then?” the hitchhiker enquired. “He married her bru,” responded the driver. “But why?” The driver jumped in this time, “No one really knows mate, but I have an idea. The Big O was real ugly; spent his whole life scaring people away. I think maybe he got tired of being the Ogre; wanted to feel useful again.” The passenger laughs, “That’s real deep shit man. Where do you come up with that?” “I don’t know mate, this stuff helped a little” and with that he took a deep long puff on a hand rolled joint, “You want some of this stuff bru it really brings the story together.” The hitchhiker shakes his head again but the driver insists forcing the joint towards him. Reluctantly the hitchhiker places his lips around it and sucks in the smoke, coughing instantaneously and spewing smoke throughout the inside of the car.
The smoke clears in front of the Big O and through it Ioana drifts serenely towards him. She has grown beautiful with him, the frail body replaced by lush curves, the wild hair now flows so elegantly and her smile is as tempting as her sorceress eyes. But the ogre resents her now, she used to be his, he could control her. She is so beautiful now, so confident, she doesn’t need him and wherever they go his skin crawls as he watches hungry eyes follow them around. She is dressed in a tight red dress and killer black heels and she is ready for the night. It crushes the Ogre to see her like this, and his words are laced with anger, “Where are you going.” She smiles calmly at him, “To the quays; to dance.” The Ogre roars back at her infuriated by her defiance, “I will not have you go down there, it isn’t safe”. Ioana just laughs, “You forbid me, you can’t forbid be”. “I can and I will” bellows the ogre. “No, you cannot make our home into a prison for me; I will not let you”. And with that she turned at stormed into the evening leaving the ogre stewing with rage.
“Hey I think this is my stop, yeah that’s the cheeky camel right” There is a tone of sadness in the traveler’s voice. “What’s the matter mate, you want to hear the rest of the story”. The hitchhiker shrugs, “kind of”. The driver laughs, “Everyone wants to know about the Big O, tell you what here’s one more beer, and let’s take another lap round the block and finish the story.” The traveler smiles as he opens his beer surprised by his own recklessness.
The front door of the house rips open as the Ogre storms into the night baying at the moon. She still hasn’t come home; maybe she will never come home. He tore through town, through bars and clubs, shouting her name till his voice went hoarse. He walked home defeated beneath thunder and lightning as the skies shrieked and howled and threw thick tears down from the heavens. Back to his castle that had become a prison, back to the scene of her daring escape; and there she was shimmering in the moonlight. Her makeup was smeared and her lipstick smudged she wore the scent of another man and he knew he had lost her. He had failed her and he knew now, it was so clear now; she could never be safe in this world. He rose up in anger, a cheated man lashing out at the world that had been right all along. The ogre towered above her and clasped his giant stone hands around her throat. For the first time in a long time Ioana was scared again. She cried and begged as a lifetime of pain came flooding back. The ogre just squeezed harder crying with her overrun with hate, and anger and guilt. Ioana’s eyes began to flicker as her breath finally escaped her and she looked pleadingly towards him one last; and she was sad and she was sorry.
“Holy shit man he killed her” the hitchhiker exclaimed. “No mate he couldn’t do it” said the driver, “Even if wanted to” added the passenger.
As Ioana’s legs buckled beneath her she felt the grip loosen around her neck and watched her husband, her love stagger away. Riddled with shooting pains the Ogre clutched at his heart gasping at the air as if he had choked the life from both of them. Then like a tumbling volcano he collapsed into a broken heap, still and calm.
“And Ioana was gone like a witch into the night and she was never seen again” explained the driver as the car pulled up outside the bar for the second time. “Huh, that’s really something” sighed the hitchhiker. “Yeah you watch out for those women” laughed the passenger, “They will break your heart”. The traveler smiled as he left the car and stumbled towards the bar the drugs clouding his thoughts a little. He moved slowly through the crowds of people, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the Ogre and his princess. He turned towards the bathroom fumbling with the taps and splashing cold water across his face. He felt fresh again and he walked out into the bar with a renewed energy. He looked back across the crowds and he moved towards an open table until he was stopped by a ghastly vision. For a split second through all the people, a shimmering sorceress held his gaze. A night time specter in a tight red dress and killer black heels.