Cinderella (but not to much)

Chapter 3

Once out of the saloon, she ran blindly, without seeing where she was going for her eyes were burning with tears. She zoomed past the café, the train station, the stable, the bookstore, the hat shop, and finally reached the end of the city, where one could see, perched on a fence, the vastness of the yellow ocher desert strewn with cactuses.

The sunset throwing bloody light on this desertic but welcoming landscape had a pacifying effect on Alex. But this time, she only sat on the ground, head in hands, without looking at the burning sphere that finally set.

-Any problem, Alex?

Isha had probably followed her from the saloon. He tied his horse to the fence, sat in front of his protegée and tried to remove her hands from her face. Alex pulled away, got up and walked a little further towards the cemetery, more specifically to the grave of his parents. Isha did not want to leave her alone. He caught with her and led her out.

-Do you have something to say to me, perhaps? Alex asked grumpily once they were out of the cemetery.

-You know, Alex, when you were not higher than three cactus flowers I promised your father to protect you and take care of you, the old man began.

-Ah yes, Alex said, trying to stop crying. And it sure is working great! Now we listen to the party from afar like two idiots, really well done!

Even a hundred meters away from the saloon, they could still hear the coaches of the distinguished guests who came to attend the party and the musicians practicing.

-Listen, Alex. With my help, you can go to this ball.

Alex could not suppress a chuckle.

-Of course. You're not even capable of putting your own boots on alone, but you can certainly get me into the only place in Lead City where my presence is undesirable, even better, prohibited.

-Ok. Maybe for the boots I'm doing it wrong. Forgive my age that prohibits me to move properly. But remember the time I ... and one where I could ... And on Tuesday, it was me! I am a shaman, Alex. Although a little old, but a shaman. So shut up, don't pout and look!

Secretly hoping he was right, Alex shrugged.

-Go ahead.

The old shaman digged a tambourine out of holsters of the horse. He squatted beside her. His fingers struck the taut skin on the tambourine. His taps on the instrument with rhythmic, joyful enough , but after a few minutes, Alex had had enough and got up.

-Your thing does not work. You can see that.

-Wait Alex. I'm probably did something wrong. I try one last time. If it does not work, I leave you alone, OK?

Isha began the same routine but this time turning around her. Music rose in the air, strange by its rhythm and intriguing. Even the few birds flying above them landed on the fence to listen. Isha began then to whisper incantations. The tune, half sung, half chanted, was strangely beautiful and Alex felt something happen.

A light wind rose, too fresh to be perfectly natural, and lifted the girl's hair which magically untied. A pinkish mist swirled around her figure. The pants and shirt she wore metamorphosed into a short dress stopping to its knees. In her dark hair, appeared a cactus flower, while at her wrists, her neck and her ears appeared finely crafted jewelry decorated with amethysts.

Speechless with admiration, Alex could not take her eyes off the vaporous and light dress, delightfully pale pink, which turned her into a princess.

Isha looked at his work, proud of himself.

-Go and conquer your prince, he teased.

-Is there a curfew time or can I come home when I want? Alex joked, reminded of a tale that Molly used to read to Jane and Rachel when they were little. Isha, thank you for everything!

Her sudden change of mood made her radiant. With a wink, she turned away and went to the saloon.

-Hold on ! said Isha. I forgot something...

-What?

-You don't wont Molly to recognize you, he explained, making black velvet mask appeared on her eyes.

The girl left. When he saw her silhouette disappearing at the, Isha sat down. Then a doubt came over.

-I may have forgotten to tell her something ... but what?

Then, distracted mind got the upper hand:

-It could not be very important ... She'll manage.