1 Dewitched by E.L. Sarnoff Read Free Book Online

mean?”
    “Trust me, you’ll see.”
     
    ***
     
    Group is held in a small room on the main floor of the castle. Yet more of that dismal minimalist look--there are just six wooden chairs arranged in a circle. We each take a seat, leaving one for Dr. Grimm.
    The chair is hard as nails. It’s digging into my back, not to mention killing my butt. Comfort is clearly not a priority around this sham-of-a-spa.
    “Stop staring at me, you mindless midget,” snaps Sasperilla at What’s-His-Name.
     “He’s not staring at you,” comes her sister to his defense. “He’s staring at Jane.”
    She’s right, and I wish he’d stop it already. 
    Sasperilla crinkles her nose. “Why don’t you wear your spectacles? Mother paid a fortune for them. Or is it that you’re afraid they’ll make you uglier than you already are?” 
    Elzmerelda shrivels. “Sassy, please don’t tell her I lost them.”
    Sasperilla shoots her sister a smirk but wipes it off her face when a tall, stringy man slumps into the room. He takes the vacant seat next to her. This must be Dr. Grimm.
     “Good afternoon, group,” he says solemnly. 
     Grimm looks like his name. Gloomy and depressing. Dressed in a droopy black waistcoat, he seriously should be leading a funeral procession, not a group therapy session. His beaky nose and straggly gray hair don’t help nor does his unkempt beard--easily a nest for one of those rude birds. And Sasperilla’s right again. His ears are big. At least five inches long.
     “I’d like everyone to say hello to Jane,” he says. “Our new group member.”
    Sasperilla feigns a yawn. “We’ve already met the bitch.”
    “Sasperilla,” says Grimm sternly, “you know we don’t use that kind of language in group. Please apologize to Jane.” 
     “Sooory.” She twists one of her long corkscrew curls around a bony finger, clearly not.
     “So, Jane, is there something you’d like to share with us today?” asks Grimm. 
     “Yes, my back is killing me.”
    Stroking his beard, Grimm gazes at me with bewilderment.
    Sasperilla snorts with laughter. “He meant about your life.” 
    Is she kidding? There’s nothing I want to share with her or any of these psychos.
    Grimm leans forward. “Jane, there has to be at least one thing you’d like to share.”
    Fine. “I’m a Queen.” The way they treat me around this place they must have no clue.
    “Wow!” says Elzmerelda in awe. “I knew you had to be royalty!”
     “Big deal!” says Sasperilla. “Royals are a dime a dozen.” 
     “That’s not true,” says Winifred. “I read that only five percent of Lalaland’s population is a king or queen.”
    What’s-His-Name’s eyes twinkle, finally showing some life.
     “Does the word ‘queen’ jog your memory?” Grimm asks him.
     Rocking his body, What’s-His-Name chants “n-nice queen” over and over. He is a major head case.
     “Good.” Grimm nods. “Try to remember more things about this nice queen.” 
     “Hold on. I want to know more about this ‘Queen’,” cuts in Sasperilla. “So, Jane, were you born into royalty or did you marry into it?” 
     “I married a King.” Wait! Why am I telling this skinny bitch anything about my life?
     “Did your mother bring you up to marry royalty? Teach you all the tricks?” 
    My mother. My stomach turns over.
     “Leave my mother out of this!” I yell.
     “Jane, do you want to tell us something about your mother?” asks Grimm.
     “Go to hell! All of you!” 
     “Jane, I will remind you that we have a no tolerance policy for foul language. Just because you’re royalty doesn’t mean you get special treatment. We’ve had several kings and queens here before. I even recall an Emperor. The bottom line is everyone is treated as equals.” 
    That’s obvious. I don’t need a lecture from some shlump of a head doctor to make that clear to me. What’s just as obvious: I don’t belong here.
    “Group is over,” announces Grimm as