"The Face Onscreen"

 

As the world around her grew colder, she opened the dusty folder-and pulled out a photo of that whom she so loved. Taken away by accident, called away by cruel chance, she is about to surrender to the dim song of loneliness when she spies something else within the folder. A dusty tape, a VHS, in bright colors festooned with a faded logo, “The Animated Adventures of Lord Pemberly”. Why, she had not seen it since she could not remember. Through veils of tears and hands trembling, cloaked in her lonesome shadowed room, she swipes dust from the face. Out from the tape, slipping it into a player long forgotten.

 

“Unicorn production presents”, announces the film and tears speckle her lashes. There he is,Lord Pemberly-savior of the land”. A smile breaks across her face, the first she’d had since he was still alive. With faded colors still bursting, diluted sound still calling, and adventures roaming, she is once more transported to her childhood love’s idealized kingdom. How noble he look with his lance and sword, heavens how dashing in his cape and hat. He conjures a horn from the air above, and calls a dove companion. From the multicolored winds above, dragons and pirates ships and ghosts are conjured. He defeats them all with his saber in hand. What a fabulous jest, she thinks, and catches herself, smiling with an abandon she had not felt e since primary school. No longer held back by her ego or pain of adulthood-he whisks her off-to a land of dreams and beauty-and she watches wistfully as it plays out before her eyes. She notices the way his face is rendered. That face she’s seen before. In a veil. In a flash. In a stitch in time. Yet how?

“Just a picture on the screen-just a farce-nothing seen”. All her barriers go falling.

 

Day by day she plays the tape. For his chivalry is her escape. Oh how her heart breaks when the picture ends-“Never leave me noble friend!””. She takes to bed before the screen. Up and ready-it must be seen. She takes her meals before the show. Watching through deepest winter’s snow.

 

“How I wish that you could be with me, I’m lost without you Lord Pemberly.”

Never does it occur it’s a jest or farce, little more than a cartoonist’s art. Oh God how she longs to be in his world, with no haste or tears-just magic unfold.  How she wishes he would take her beyond her world’s walls, to battle witches and ogres and dance at costume balls. In his animated eyes, she finds a peace-in his rendered smile does her agony cease.

 

Now outside of the door, her family has grown leery. She’s aloof and unslept and seems just so weary. She barks at prying eyes and ignores all inquiry.  To her mother, “it’s that infernal tape, she plays it all day-she believes a cartoon hero is going to take her away!” At night while she slept at the foot of her set, her mother snuck in with a fretful intent. Pulling out her precious tape, it was slid into a box, bashed into pieces and concealed in locks. 

In the morning she awoke from the most wondrous dream, than looked to the set and saw no Lord to be seen. She dug through the set, she dug through the tapes, and scattering wares as it all gave her great shakes. “What have you done to it!” she demanded to know. “I got rid of it child, for it needed to go. I worried for you and this farcical dream. There is no Lord Pemberly, understand what I mean!” She fell to the floor caught in hideous fits, and dug through the floorboard looking vainly for bits. Crazed with tears, she then started to sway. “He was all that I had!”, was all she could say.

That night within the padded walls of her cell, too numb to think or reason or tell. She looked through the bars-as the moons rays above. In the distance she heard calls of swallows and doves. Surrendering at last to the straightjacket’s great might, finding solace in solitude, to the tune of the night. Yet no sooner do her lashes meet and like dreamers would say, comes animated colors and horses and a whimsical day.

For out comes Lord Pemberly, with his lance in his hand. Taking the tearful young girl, as a smiling sun fills the land. For by waxing and waning, she is finally free.

“What adventures today my love?”

 

“As whatever we desire, Lord Pemberly”.