Into the Wild(5)

Mary paled.

“She’s kidding,” Zel said.

“Of course I am.” Gothel smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t hurt a lamb.”

Zel rolled her eyes. She had clearly imagined that flicker of emotion—her mother enjoyed feeding her reputation. “Oh, Mother.” Shaking her head, Zel put down her shears and went to hug her. It was time for her mother to quit the wicked witch routine. She didn’t even use her powers anymore. Of course, there were a few frogs around Gothel’s motel that Zel had her suspicions about, but everyone needed a hobby. So long as it didn’t cause the Wild to grow too fast, she wasn’t going to ask. She guided her mother to the shampoo chair and fastened the nylon smock around her neck. “You’d have better social skills if you got out more,” Zel said. “You spend too much time at that motel.”

“Are you nagging me, Rapunzel?” Gothel asked with an edge to her voice.

“Yes,” Zel said sternly.

Gothel cackled. Mary flinched at the sound, but Zel couldn’t help smiling. She loved her mother’s laugh. In the years since they’d escaped the Wild, Gothel’s laugh had changed from overtly evil to delicious and free.

In the shampoo chair, Gothel leaned backward. Running warm water, Zel wet her hair. “So what am I missing that’s so special?” Gothel asked.

“Well, I don’t know.” A single mother with her own business to run, Zel wasn’t an expert on Northboro’s social scene. She added shampoo to Gothel’s hair and worked it into a lather. “But you should get out more. Not just for haircuts.” She shouldn’t be so tied to her responsibilities all the time. She was sacrificing her freedom in her efforts to protect her freedom.

“Saw Ruby doing stand-up at the Dew Drop Inn on Friday night,” Mary offered tentatively. “She did her Princess Who Never Laughed routine. And Saturday’s karaoke. Harp can hold a tune, if you don’t mind six renditions of ‘Giants in the Sky.’”

Gothel humphed as Zel rinsed.

“We’ll continue this in one second,” Zel said. “I have to put Linda under the dryer.” She led Linda to a dryer and switched on the heat. “Just a couple of minutes,” she told Linda, “and then I’ll even out the ends.”

She returned to Gothel and towel-dried her hair. “I mean it. You work too hard.” She brought her mother to one of the cutting chairs. “You never take a night off.” Separating clumps of hair, she flattened one between her fingers and clipped the ends.

Gothel smiled affectionately at Zel’s reflection in the salon mirror. “You’re a sweet girl, you know that?”

Zel smiled back. Years ago, they weren’t so close. Of course, years ago, Gothel had her locked in a tower, but regardless . . . If Zel and Gothel could become close, there was hope for Zel and Julie, wasn’t there? Maybe Gothel could talk to Julie. Maybe she could convince Julie to come work at the salon after school.

Zel realized she had the perfect solution to both her problems. “Why don’t you come to dinner with Julie and me tonight? We’re having Snow’s seven, so adding another plate’s not a problem.”

Gothel sighed and said, “It’s not a good time. Dances and midterms and so forth. Kids start sneaking in wanting to make wishes.” In a nasal voice, she imitated, “‘I wish for Bobby Who-si-whats-it to ask me to the dance.’ ‘I wish for Susie Q to notice me.’”

Zel glanced at Linda. The blow dryer was on, and chances were good the librarian couldn’t hear her. It’s fine that Mother’s talking freely, Zel thought. She made a mental note that sometime she should check how loud the dryer really was.

“As soon as the sun sets, I have to keep the well under constant watch. Even barbed wire doesn’t keep the little toads out.” Gothel sighed again, and for a moment, she looked her age—all the many centuries. Zel’s heart ached for her. She had to be able to give her mother one night of rest.

“Can’t someone else watch for you?” Zel asked. There were plenty of their kind in Northboro who understood how important it was to keep the well inactive. One of them could guard it for an evening.

Gothel shook her head. “I don’t need a night out.”

Zel flicked Gothel’s shoulder with her finger. “Don’t move your head. Yes, you do. You look tired.” It was too bad, Zel thought, that the well had proved indestructible. Dismantling it would have saved her mother a lot of worry.

The mirror in front of them said, “Oh, I have to agree. Those bags under your eyes . . . Not the fairest, most definitely not.”