It would figure that my fairy godmother would be late. She couldn't have magically appeared next to my dresser, waved her magic wand, and conjured a gorgeous dress, a fabulous ride, and glass shoes. No, she didn't show up until nine o'clock, when I was already at the dance wearing my older sister's dress with a coffee stain on the hem. I was in the dingy girls' bathroom touching up my lipstick when she stepped out of a stall.

"Hello, darling," she said. "I'm your fairy godmother." She wore a loud flowered dress, huge bangle earrings, and her hair was outlandishly orange.

It also figures that I would get the tackiest fairy godmother on this side of town.

"So I'm supposed to set you up with Philip," she said, snapping her gum.

"Um... he's the guy I like, yeah," I said. All of a sudden, this fairy godmother business didn't look very appealing. I suspected, noting her purple tights and orange plastic heels, that my new dress wouldn't be a spun-sugar taffeta creation. More likely, I would end up wearing something my aunt Ethel would buy off the sale rack at Wal-Mart.

My godmother stepped back, cocked her head so her earrings rattled, and squinted at me. "Clothes first. Honey, you're a beautiful blonde, so I can put you in anything. Howdja like a nice lime green? I can whip up a short little number with sequins if you like."

"Actually, this is prom night, so I was thinking of a long light blue dress, maybe with pearls..."

My godmother regarded me sharply. "No," she said. "Young girls today don't know what's good for them. You gotta learn to respect your elders. And believe me, honey, I'm your elder." She sighed and suddenly looked old and worn-out. She lowered herself onto a toilet seat and put her chin in her hands. "It was different in the fourteenth century," she said.

I felt a rush of sorrow for her. "Look," I said, then I realized I didn't know her name.

"Millicent," she mumbled.

"Millicent, I'm sorry if I insulted your taste. But maybe my dress isn't even important. If Philip is attracted to my, it won't be because of what I'm wearing." The words bubbled to my mouth almost before I thought of them, but I knew they were true. "Millicent, this might be hard for you to hear, but you're not needed anymore. People like other people for their personalities. No dress, no matter how gorgeous it is, will help me get Philip. I'll just have to see if he likes me for who I am."

Millicent buried her face in her hands and kicked the stall door closed. "It's been so long since I told anyone my real name," was her muffled response. "You're right, honey. But what will I do now?"

I opened the door. "Forget the fourteenth century, Millicent. There are a lot of things a woman can do today. Why don't you settle down and get a normal job? Since you like solving other people's problems, maybe you could become a counselor."

Millicent looked up at me, her face brightened. "Thanks, sweetheart," she said. "You've given me a goal, and I'll meet it--without my magic wand. Good luck with Philip." With that, she vanished. Her earrings clanked once, and then the air over the toilet was still.

The real story ends here, because after Millicent left there were no more miracles. I was still wearing my old, ugly dress when I left the bathroom, but Philip asked me to dance anyway. I felt like I was living a fairy tale.

by Laura Jacobsen
mermaid@eagle.ptialaska.net