My Name is Rapunzel(44)

“That's it, sweetheart. Keep going.” I felt movement behind me and turned slightly to see out of the corner of my eye. Gretta leaned on the doorframe to the library, grinning. Her joy couldn’t dampen mine. Not a chance.

He shifted his foot from behind and placed it in front. Luke looked up at me again. As if to say, can you believe what I just did?

“Come on. Do it again.” I clapped my hands and arms. “I'm so proud of you, pumpkin.”

Luke bit his lower lip, concentrating on the task at hand. First his right foot forward, and then his left. Right foot a few inches, left dragging behind. He was on the move.

“Your mama would have been so proud.” I wiped away a tear that threatened to escape. That would be the last time I would say anything about Luke’s parents. I was his mama. He would know no other.

Whatever that was worth.

With Tom and Suzette gone, Luke would likely grow to take his rightful place in the cabin behind the castle, protecting us, and affording us some connection with the outside world, for at least the next few decades. After that? Well, hopefully like the generations that came before him, he would have children and we would raise them to understand who I was.

I existed so Gretta could continue on. Their job was to make sure I could continue on. And the beast would watch it all from afar.

Luke made his way to me. He grasped my knees with his chubby fingers and looked at me with delight. His eyes sparkled. He was so proud of himself.

I leaned down and kissed his soft cheek, his eyelashes tickled my forehead. “I'm so proud of you, buddy. You did it.” Before I could stop them, my fingers reached for the sides of his body and tickled.

His childlike abandon filled the room with laughter. Pure joy.

At least for now.

***

“Luke.” I patted the space beside me on the bed. It was cold. Where was he? I scrambled over to the side of the bed and looked at the floor. He's been known to roll right out of bed and continue sleeping after he hit the floor. The little boy played hard and slept hard. No sign of him.

Where could he be? I hurried to my armoire and slipped my arms into my robe. I pulled the sash tight around my waist.

He had to be in the kitchen, but this would mark the first time he’d ventured from the tower through the castle by himself. Was he safe? My heart beat wildly in my chest. If anything happened to that child—

I raced to the door and threw it open. “Luke!” I called into the cavernous stairway. No sign of him. I slid down the stairs, barely letting my feet touch the steps.

“Luke?” I poked my head into the drawing room. A fire blazed in the fireplace. So Gretta was up already. What had she done with my boy? Oh, my baby. The enormity of the situation settled on my shoulders.

I lived in a castle with a witch and a dragon. And my little boy was missing. After what had happened to Henry…to think that Gretta would leave me be, and let me love my baby. What if she had hurt him? What would I do? Stop thinking like that, Rapunzel. It wouldn’t help find Luke.

I searched behind the heavy draperies in the library. Maybe he was playing hide and seek. But we’d never played it before. How would be know? No. Children had been playing that game since the beginning of time. It was instinctive. It didn't really take a teacher for a child to learn that it was funny to hide from someone and jump out to scare them. But he wasn’t there.

I pulled open the heavy cupboard doors where the china was stored. He could have easily fit in there, but I found nothing.

Maybe he went down to the garden. I hurried into the hallway and listened for sounds coming from anywhere in the house. Nothing. No light shone from the kitchen, there was no tinkling of silverware or whispers of chatter. Nothing.

I scurried down the Hall of Horrors. I wish they wouldn’t stare at me. Not now. What could be more horrible than this? Being frozen in space, unable to help Henry while he was ripped from my life? Or being completely free to search for my son, and not able to find him? Two horrors that were completely different, yet somehow the same.

I threw open the cellar door and ran down the steps to the garden. Maybe he was under the bridge looking at the fish. But then…what if he'd fallen in? Maybe he… I raced over and stooped to look through the clear water, straight to the bottom. No. Not there.

I raced through the archway out into the valley. I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled across the valley, “Luke! Luke! Where are you?”

What if he’d climbed in the back of a wagon and rode off with the milk deliveryman, or what if he'd wandered out to the road and been picked up by a stranger? He could be hauled off anywhere in the land or what if Gretta… I shook my head. No! I wouldn’t let myself go there yet. There was still hope.