The mailmouse had just launched a letter from the porch rafter into Sagacia’s lap. It was folded into a paper airplane, one side of which screamed in full caps written, apparently in Maleficent Crimson lipstick.
The Simpletons arched their eyebrows at each other and cocked their heads, curious to see what the other side of the paper held.
In a reasonable script, with ballpoint pen, the writer had written:
“Dear Vasilisa the wise — I keep dropping in on your Fairy Tale Lobby, hoping to find some information I can actually use, but so far you and your Magical Friends just talk and talk and talk about fairy tales. For going on two years now. Look, I’m no scholar. I’m no collector of ancient lore. I’m not interested in exegesis and analysis. I just want to hear some fairy tales. The kids are out of school for the next couple of months and we’re trying to plan a road trip to places local and far flung where we can actually experience fairy tales. TOLD, not DRAMATIZED, not PINNED DOWN to the pages of a book. LIVE fairy tales. Vasilisa, I know you’ve got connections, so I’m sure you know who’s telling what, where they’re telling it, and when. Can you please apprise me of this data?
I am unapologetically strident and eternally grateful —
Searching in Searcy
Simplia rose from the glider and said, “Well. I’ve got to run to the post office with last month’s correspondence. I’ll just tack this to the bulletin board at the Fairy Tale Lobby while I’m out.”
“Oh, wait!” said the mailmouse. “I forgot. You got some conventional correspondence, too.”
From his messenger bag he pulled a diminutive pink envelope, of the sort that are used for party invitations. The return address read: Laura Simms. The invitation was just what Searching in Searcy was looking for.
…and she went on to extend to them a lovely invitation to Central Park in New York City, where every Saturday, rain or shine, from June through September for the past 59 years audiences have been and continue to be treated to a program of fairy tales.
“For free?!” said Simplia. “Where exactly in Central Park?”
Sagacia read: “At the Hans Christian Andersen statue ‘The Ugly Duckling’
near 72nd Street & Fifth Avenue in Central Park, New York. Pretty sweet, huh?”
“Let’s plan a trip!” Simplia headed for the coat closet, in search of the big brown Samsonite suitcase.
“Not so fast, ” said Sagacia. “We still have to get to the post office and tack Searching in Searcy’s request to the bulletin board at the Fairy Tale Lobby. I hope our Magical Friends will help with information about where they’ll be performing or listening to fairy tales this summer.”
“And,” said Simplia, “let’s hope they remember to include dates, locations, times, intended audiences, cost. Let’s see if we can give Searching in Searcy a storytelling schedule for the whole summer.