Happily Ever After, Ltd. - 3. Vanished

To say that Ryan felt foolish about his date with Alison’s brother Dave was an understatement. But then again, perhaps Ryan should’ve been used to the humiliation. His personal life to date had been a series of embarrassments and anti-climaxes.

In his last year of high school, he had become infatuated with a boy in his calculus class. His name was Stuart and he was always laughing at Ryan’s jokes, recommending YouTube videos for Ryan to watch, and copying Ryan’s homework. It was only a matter of time, Ryan convinced himself, before they became boyfriends. Ryan decided that the night of their high school graduation was the perfect time to make their relationship official. A group of them went to a playground behind Doug’s house, where they set fire to their schoolbooks. Doug brought along a bottle of bourbon, which Ryan refused to drink at first, but then eventually agreed to have one sip of. Then another, and another. The next thing Ryan knew, he was confessing his feelings to Stuart, slurring his words so badly that it took Stuart a minute to understand. Eventually, Stuart responded by saying he saw Ryan “more like a brother” and that he was mainly into Asians anyway.

For weeks after, Ryan moped around feeling sorry for himself. After he had moved into his flat, Doug decided it was time for him to get over Stuart. Doug persuaded Ryan to go to a gay bar. Once they’d adjusted to seeing girls kissing at the coat check and drag queens lip-synching to Madonna songs, it was quite fun. It certainly smelt nicer than an ordinary bar and the dancing was a lot better. The only problem was that Ryan had no idea what he was supposed to do.

“Go up and talk to someone,” Doug kept saying in between tequila shots.

An hour later, while Doug was being sick in the bathroom, someone did come over to talk to Ryan. The guy looked as nervous as Ryan felt.

“Um, hi there,” he said. “My friends and I were wondering if that guy you came with is your boyfriend?”

“No,” Ryan said. “Doug and I are friends.”

The guy’s face lit up. “Oh great, so he’s single?”

Still not disheartened, Doug set up an internet dating profile for Ryan. Ryan was mortified but eventually agreed to go on one date if Doug agreed to delete the profile afterwards. Ryan arranged to meet the guy at a bar on a Thursday afternoon. The guy turned up twenty minutes late wearing loose-fitting clothes with holes in the armpits. He apologised for his lateness, explaining that he’d been drinking all afternoon and had lost track of the time. He also apologised for forgetting his wallet and asked if Ryan would mind getting the first round. He then spoke about his personal problems for two hours, which included an addiction to valium and that he wasn’t speaking to his parents. Then he decided that he liked the beer glasses and asked Ryan to distract the bartender so he could steal them.

Needless to say, there was no second date.

But even with Ryan’s bleak record, he felt he had reached a new low. He was being set up on a blind date for the sole purpose of helping Doug seduce his friend Marty’s co-worker Alison by being set up on a date with Doug’s friend Marty’s co-worker Alison’s brother Dave.

Doug spent an hour helping Ryan get ready. Doug dressed Ryan in five different outfits before giving up on all of his clothes as making him look “shapeless” and letting him wear the first shirt-and-jeans combination he’d put on. Doug sprayed Ryan in his aftershave but then decided it was too much and made him wash it off. Doug then told Ryan his hair was like a pile of straw and rubbed so much gel in it that Ryan could feel it running down the back of his neck.

“I don’t know why you need me to make a good impression,” Ryan said. “You’re the one trying to sleep with someone, not me. And you’re just wearing a hoodie and the pants you wore when we painted your parents’ holiday house.”

“We’ve been over this,” Doug said, wiping his gel-coated hands on a towel. “If I turn up with a frumpy flabby fairy, then I haven’t upheld my side of the bargain and Alison will feel like I’ve deceived her. But if I turn up with a handsome homosexual, then she’ll think I’m God’s gift to the gays and I’ll definitely get laid.”

It was strange logic but, when it came to such predictions, Doug was usually right.

On their way to meet the siblings, Doug made things even worse by giving Ryan advice.

“Don’t talk about science fiction,” said Doug, “unless he brings it up and it’s something you have in common. But whatever you do, don’t go off on one of your tangents about Star Gate or Star Light or—”

“Star Wars,” Ryan said through clenched teeth.

“And whatever you do, don’t give him your spiel about the plight of battery hens, for the love of all that is good and holy, it’s the biggest turn-off you could imagine. Now shut up, there they are.”

Alison was a short, sweet-looking girl, with a smile that occupied most of her face. Her brother Dave was indeed bald but by no means old. He was better looking than Ryan had expected, with the same enormous smile as his sister. Dave was dressed so nicely that, by comparison, Ryan felt like the frumpy fairy that Doug had been complaining about.

“Hey, Allie.” Doug kissed her on the check.

Ryan already felt sorry for her and the heartbreak that she would suffer at Doug’s hands – and he felt a stab of guilt that he was helping Doug do it.

“So!” Alison turned to Ryan and smiled even more widely. “This is the famous Ryan!”

“Ryan, Alison. Alison, Ryan,” said Doug.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” Alison said. “Doug talks about you all the time.”

“Do not,” Doug muttered.

“You do!” Alison insisted. “Don’t be shy, Doug. Love between two men is a beautiful thing!”

“Yeah, hey,” said Doug, “speaking of which ...” He motioned between Dave and Ryan, yet to be introduced.

“Of course!” Alison said. “I’m so rude! Ryan and Doug, this is my brother Dave.”

“You do architecture, right, Dave?” Doug said. “Allie told me you’re going to build her a castle one day.”

“I was joking!” Alison shrieked. “Well, half-joking. With turrets! And a moat!”

Doug grinned. “That’s awesome.” He turned to Dave and Ryan. “So, it’s a beautiful day, huh.”

“Doug, oh my god, stop making it so awkward!” Alison said.

“I’m not making it awkward!”

“You are! We’re setting them up and you’re talking about the weather!”

“Yeah, alright, look,” Doug said, “we only wanted to bring you guys together. So, we’ll take off and leave you to it.”

“Oh, this is too cute,” Alison said. “I feel like Cupid. Have a great day, guys. Ryan, it was really nice to meet you.”

“And Dave,” said Doug, “you be sure to have Ryan home by midnight!”

They turned and walked off, both giggling, leaving Ryan hoping that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“It’s like they’re the Dalmatians from 101 Dalmatians,” Dave said eventually, “and we’re their owners.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ryan said. “This is all just a pretence for them going out, so don’t feel that you have to stick around if you don’t want to.”

Dave didn’t say anything, just stared.

“But on the other hand,” Ryan said quickly, “Doug did give me eighty bucks for today.”

“Really? Wow. Alison only gave me sixty.”

Still, they were rich. This sudden realisation put them both in better moods and they decided that they should do something. After all, they reasoned, Doug and Alison could be spying on them to make sure they were doing what they’d agreed – and a hundred and forty dollars wasn’t exactly spare change. Ryan and Dave agreed they should do something to earn it. They spent a long time umming and aahing about what to do. A dull exhibition at the museum? A badly-reviewed matinee at the theatre? Getting a taxi to the zoo, where bratty children were always throwing pebbles at the monkeys?

“I’m not good at spending money,” Ryan admitted.

“Me neither,” Dave said. “I’m already starting to think maybe we should invest it wisely then have twice as much to spend.”

“But if we double it,” Ryan said, “we’ll want to triple it, and before we know it, the market’s crashed and we’ll be drinking cold soup out of a can.”

“You’re right. So we’re avoiding a life of poverty by spending money?”

“These are confusing times.”

“Any other ideas?”

“Well, maybe one,” Ryan said. “But it’s stupid.”

“There are no bad ideas in brainstorming.”

“It’s something that I always wanted to try, but it always seemed like a waste of my own money. Have you ever hired those green pedal carts?”

Dave rolled his eyes. “You mean those big green trolleys that go up and down the harbour? That tourists are always pedalling up and down in? Ringing the bell like they’ve got right-of-way? God, those things are so annoying.”

“Yeah, you’re right, that was a terrible idea.”

*

Twenty minutes later, Ryan and Doug were pedalling like a pair of maniacs on a wobbly green cart, ringing the bell to clear the path in front of them.

“Watch out!” shouted Ryan.

“Make way!” shouted Dave.

Parents and children, boyfriends and girlfriends, even old ladies and their dogs – they all had to dive out of the way. Ryan’s legs were pumping up and down on the pedals, getting more exercise than he’d had in months. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d done anything outside, and definitely couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed it, but it was wonderful. The sun was shining, the air was sea-salty and fresh, and seagulls were eating out of rubbish bins.

“God, everyone must hate us,” Dave said as they swerved to avoid a busker.

“I know,” Ryan said, “but I don’t even care!” He usually spent so much time trying to keep out of everyone’s way. Not caring felt pretty good.

After nearly an hour of terrorising the waterfront, they awkwardly parked the cart in front of a café. They sat at a table outside, under a big pink umbrella, both feeling they had earned a big lunch. Dave was scanning the wine list.

Ryan noticed the time. “Hey, aren’t we meant to return the cart in ten minutes?”

“Nah, we’ve got plenty of cash for the late fee. I wouldn’t worry.”

Dave grabbed the waitress as she passed by. “This bottle, the Windmill Estate, is this your most expensive wine? There’s nothing more expensive?”

She shrugged.

“And the steak sandwich, that’s your most expensive lunch?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s all pretty reasonable.”

Dave was disappointed. “That’s a shame. Well, that’s what we’ll have for now.”

After she’d gone, there was an uneasy silence. For the best part of an hour, they had behaved like lunatics, but now they were back on the actual date part of the date. Doug had given Ryan a number of safe conversation topics, but Ryan’s mind was completely blank. Fortunately, Dave’s wasn’t.

“So do you find yourself in these situations often?” he asked. “Spending a day with a complete stranger and having to think of ways to spend other people’s money?”

“No, this is a first.”

“Same here. You’re pretty good friends with Doug though, right?”

“Yeah. We’ve been friends our whole lives, actually. It’s a bit of a weird story. His mum was my dad’s girlfriend before she met his dad and he met my mum. But everyone stayed friends.”

The wine arrived and Dave filled their glasses to the brim.

“What about Alison?” Ryan asked. “Are you guys close too? You must be, if you’re also letting her set you up with strangers.”

“She’s always trying to set me up,” Dave said. “She keeps saying that I need to go out more, meet guys, but I’ve never listened. But after today, I’m starting to think maybe she was right.”

Ryan’s face went red but Dave laughed. “That was a compliment, you egg.”

“I’m not an egg.” Ryan went redder.

“Yes you are.” Dave raised his wine glass. “Cheers. To the egg!”

*

In her twelfth-floor office, Dorothy Weaver was on yet another phone call with Mr Kobayashi from Brothers Grimm.

“I understand that,” she was saying, “but the Grimm fairytales are barbaric. We can’t expose children to the acts of violence depicted in the Grimm’s version. The stepsisters cut bits of their feet off trying to fit the shoe. How would you like your daughter reading that? Oh, well, your niece then? Oh, for God’s sake, I don’t care if you don’t know any children personally.”

Maria came in, looking uncharacteristically worried, but Dorothy didn’t notice her straight away.

“Our version of Cinderella – and in fact all the fairytales that we publish here – are all in line with our company’s focus on traditional family values. We’re not going to try to sell horror to the under tens, with limbs piled in a heap and ears being cut off. Mr Kobayashi, can you hold for a moment. Maria, what is it?”

“We’ve got a problem.” For all her quirks, Maria was not one to overreact. The last time Maria said those four words, Cinderella’s shoe had gone missing. “Liam needs you in the control room now.”

Dorothy disconnected Mr Kobayashi without explanation and ran down the corridor into the control room. In the centre of the room was the Core Book. It was a large book with stainless steel covers and pages made from wafer-thin sheets of plasma. It was on these pages that the story ran its course, over and over, and it was from the Core Book that the story was transmitted to every copy of Cinderella published by Happily Ever After, Ltd. Around the Core Book, machines calibrated every detail, and technicians sat in front of computers, searching for inconsistencies.

“Liam,” Dorothy said. “What’s happened?”

Liam was the head technician of Cinderella, and had in fact co-engineered the technology behind the Core Books at Happily Ever After. Liam was of Chinese descent but he had spent so much of his life in front computers that he was the whitest person in the company. Like most of his colleagues, Liam did not really like Dorothy, but he had always appreciated her directness during crises.

On his screen, a message was flashing.

ERROR

ERROR

ERROR

“Prince Charming has vanished,” Liam said. “He vanished about three minutes ago.”

“Vanished? How could he have vanished?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you looked in his bedroom?” Dorothy said. “He has a suit-fitting for the Ball. Maybe he decided to do that earlier. Or maybe he went somewhere else. It happens. We thought we had lost Puss in Boots once, but he was chasing a bluebird up in the trees.”

“No, he’s really gone,” Maria said. She pointed to the Core Book.

The Core Book’s cover usually showed Cinderella as a bride, with Prince Charming standing beside her. But now Cinderella was depicted standing on her own, her eyes cast downwards, still wearing an apron over her household rags. Dorothy turned the pages, each one telling the same dismal story.

Cinderella was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor.

Cinderella cleaned the fireplace. She got soot all over her face.

She was in the kitchen peeling potatoes.

Cinderella dutifully stitched her Stepmother’s undergarments.

Until: The End. No happy ending.

“And this is happening in every book?” Dorothy asked, stupidly.

“The Core Book transmits globally,” Liam said. “This is happening in every copy of Cinderella that we have ever published.”

“But we have procedures for this, don’t we?” Dorothy said. “We have the technology to, you know, er—”

“To replace any character,” Liam said. “I’ve started that process already but it takes between thirty and forty minutes. The story won’t have Prince Charming for at least another twenty-seven minutes.”

“Okay.” Dorothy took a deep breath. “That’s okay. I mean, how many children are actually going to read Cinderella in twenty-seven minutes? A couple of hundred?”

“Not according to our latest sales figures,” Maria said. “They’ve increased exponentially. In half an hour, it’ll be read by over one thousand.”

One thousand. Dorothy felt faint. There would be complaints. There could be lawsuits. There would be hundreds of girls crying themselves to sleep, and angry parents demanding refunds or even calling for boycotts of the brand. No, Dorothy could not let that happen. It was her job to make sure that did not happen – to fix the unfixable.

“There’s protocol for this,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Maria said.

“This is not the first time a character has vanished,” Dorothy pointed out. “Remember what they did with Jack and the Beanstalk two years ago?”

“That was only the bean-seller,” Maria said. “This is Cinderella’s Prince. And anyway, the bean-seller’s replacement was a disaster! He gave Jack four beans instead of three, and the beanstalk grew an extra mile! Jack got altitude sickness.”

“He still lived happily ever after, didn’t he?”

“So you’re going to replace Prince Charming?” Maria said. “How?”

“Just like the bean-seller,” Dorothy said. “We replace him with someone.”

“For thirty whole minutes?” Maria said.

“Oh for God’s sake,” Dorothy said, “it’s not exactly a prison sentence.”

“But another civilian?” Maria said. “He won’t know what he’s doing.”

“He won’t need to know what he’s doing,” Dorothy said. “He only needs to exist in the story for thirty minutes. We’ll have the real Prince Charming back in time for the Ball. We’re simply going to – borrow someone.”

“Borrow someone? But ... who?”

*

“That was so much easier before lunch,” Ryan said, out of breath.

He and Dave had pedalled the cart back to the shed, much slower on full stomachs and a bottle of wine. After paying the late fee, they still had some cash left, so they wandered over to a market on the waterfront, and looked at a few stalls. Ryan ended up buying a yellow scarf from an old woman with dreadlocks, then they went to sit on the rocks with coffees.

Dave counted their leftover coins in his palm. “Can you believe we still have five dollars left?”

“Let’s give it to a busker or something,” Ryan suggested. “Or we could find a homeless man and buy him a sandwich.”

“Very charitable,” Dave said. “That scarf really suits you, by the way.”

“Do you want to wear it?”

“How about we make the scarf both of ours?” he said. “You can have it during the week and I can have it on weekends and public holidays.”

“Custody arrangements over clothing accessories?” Ryan laughed. “That’s probably what every failed relationship between two men comes down to.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ve failed yet.”

“No?” Ryan asked hopefully.

“You think we have?”

“No! That’s not what I meant, I meant, you know, I didn’t know that we were going in the direction of a relationship that could even fail.” Ryan went red again. “Sorry. I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

Dave grinned. “I don’t know. I think you’re better than you think you are.”

*

Dorothy, Maria and Liam crowded around the computer while thousands of thumbnail photos loaded onto the screen. Below each photo were the personal details for each individual and a list of their character traits. The database had been compiled during three years of research that had been funded by Happily Ever After, Ltd, and carried out by the university’s psychology department. As part of the research, each first-year student had been required to complete a questionnaire and a brief interview, in exchange for compulsory participation credits. As a result, Happily Ever After, Ltd had a database of detailed information on more than seven thousand participants.

“This totally reminds me of dating apps,” Maria said. “That first one looks cute! Click on him.”

Liam double-clicked on the picture she had pointed to.

“Oooh, he is cute!” Maria said. “Let’s use him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dorothy said. “He’s Indian. Prince Charming has to be white. It’s historically accurate,” she added uncomfortably.

“There are too many,” Liam said. “We need to refine the search, using desirable character traits.”

“Type in Pure of Heart first,” Dorothy said. “That’ll cut out all the rubbish on here.”

This narrowed the search from over seven-thousand to twenty-two.

“Refine the search again,” Dorothy said. “Works Well Under Pressure.”

That narrowed the search down to five.

“Three of these are female,” Liam said.

“And one of the guys is thirty-two,” Maria said. “You can’t be a fairytale prince after your twenties.”

“In that case, there’s only one candidate remaining,” Liam said. “He’s nineteen years old.”

Liam clicked on the thumbnail picture and the photograph appeared on the screen.

“His name is Ryan Hooper,” Maria said. “It’s not a very princely name. And he’s not the best looking man for the job.”

“His face is asymmetrical,” Liam agreed, “and he’s completely non-muscular.”

“It’s for less than thirty minutes,” Dorothy said. “We don’t need the prince to be extremely handsome. He’s fine.”

“So, you’re giving me the green light?” Liam asked.

“Yes,” said Dorothy. “That’s our Prince.”

“Alright. Here we go.”

*

One end of the scarf had come loose. Dave reached over and put it back around Ryan’s neck, his hand coming to a rest on Ryan’s shoulder. His face was suddenly close. Dave smiled, leaning in further, their faces now an inch apart.

Ryan had only kissed two guys before, both while he had been heavily intoxicated. He’d always thought that you had to drink a lot if you were going to do something as peculiar as push your mouth against someone else’s. Ryan was suddenly aware of how big his nose was, and how dry his mouth had become.

What if a homophobic passerby threw something at them?

What if he had bad breath?

“This is what I look like up close,” Ryan said.

Dave laughed. “You really are an egg.”

And that was when Ryan vanished, quite literally, into thin air.

*

There was silence in the control room.

Dorothy eventually broke it. “Well?! Did it work?”

The message blinked on the screen.

REPLACEMENT INSTALLED

“He’s in,” Liam said.

“Oooh, look!” Maria gasped.

The Core Book’s front cover was changing right before their eyes. A plainer-than-usual prince appeared beside Cinderella. Her rags transformed on her body into her elaborate wedding dress. Maria opened the Core Book to the first page and watched as the words began to change before her very eyes.

“It worked,” Maria said. “We definitely have a Prince Charming.”

“Good,” Dorothy said. “Now, get the actual Prince Charming back in there, so we can switch them back in time for the Ball. Nobody will ever need to know.”

*

Dave leapt back from the empty space that Ryan had occupied only a few seconds earlier. He had seen Ryan vanish. It was impossible – completely impossible – but at the same time, he knew what he had seen. He had seen Ryan vanish.

“Ryan?” Dave said. He hadn’t drunken that much wine, only half a bottle, so there was no way he could be hallucinating. Unless, of course, this whole thing was a dream?

“RYAN!”

A few passersby sniggered at the strange young man sitting by himself with two coffees, shouting at nothing.

Dave was beginning to think that surely he must have been dreaming – or going insane – when something caught his eye from below. It was the yellow scarf. It had fallen onto the rocks below, the only evidence that Ryan had been there at all.