Cole

"Cole!" The wretched old man yelped from the confines of his office.

The old stone house he resided in was cold like the heart of his stepfather who created nothing but problems for him. If he didn't leave for the castle in the next fifteen minutes he'd never make it in time for the ball. He wasn't invited to woo the princess, he was there to perform. It was the only way he'd make enough money to move out of this hell hole.

"Cole!" His stepfather pounded on the wall.

Cole stepped into the small windowless office. It was more like a dungeon.

"Yes, Father."

"I need you to run some errands for me, boy. Can you do that?"

"Can't you get Drew and Andy to do your dirty work tonight? I have a gig in two hours."

He scoffed. "What did I tell you about music boy? It's the devil's work. There will be no more of that."

His stepfather had his hand in some shady business. He never asked exactly what was in the packages he delivered, only did it because he had to.

Cole was no longer a child, but he stayed to have a roof over his head, and a warm meal on the table. If it weren't for this man he'd be out on the street scavenging for food.

"What can I do for you?"

Cole reached into the pocket of the old blue hand-me-down suit. His father wore it more than thirty years ago - when he was still alive. Cole grabbed hold of the only thing left of his late mother - her guitar pick and ran his fingers over it's smooth surface. His father's suit and his mother's pick was the only thing holding him together. Even if there was a small tear in the opposite pocket, he'd never throw either item out.

"Bring this to the village. At midnight you will meet with a man wearing a gray top hat." From his seat at the old metal desk, he reached over and handed Cole a package wrapped in brown paper.

"In return you will receive an envelope, return it to me. There will be severe consequences if you do not respect the time."

Cole nodded. His stepfather was the last man he ever expected his mother to fall in love with. He was ten years older and had a dull personality. She loved to sing songs in the meadow behind their house, while his stepfather said music was evil. She had stopped singing, then got sick. When Cole was fifteen he lost the only person left in his life that cared for him.

He shut the door behind him and put the small package inside the pocket on the underside of his suit jacket. That would have to wait until later.

As he approached the stable - their only mode of transportation - he heard two distinct male voices and knew straight away - they were his stepbrothers. Both were tall with a full head of dark hair - unlike their father who balded early.

"Where's Lucifer? And my guitar" Cole asked.

He had left his guitar in the stable not long before he was called into the house. He didn't want to chance forgetting it.

"Oh. Opps. I left the door open." Drew tried to hold in his grin, but failed miserably.

"You did what?" Cole asked, his voice full of fury.

He clenched his teeth then took Drew by the neck of his cotton white shirt and held tight.

"He said he left the door open." Andy echoed.

"Do you realize that those horses are our only mode of transportation?" He grabbed hold of Drew's shirt tighter.

"You guys are morons. And my guitar?" He shoved Drew back and let go of his shirt.

"Oh, this?" Andy questioned. He held up the old wooden instrument, snapped at the neck.

Cole bit the inside of his cheek to keep from killing both of them. He had to keep his cool. How would he get to the castle and to the village without a horse? And where would he find another guitar to play?

"I don't have time to deal with this. I'll find a way out of here."

Cole pulled a pocket watch from the front jacket pocket, and realized he'd never make it on time to play his gig. He only had one option. He walked a half an hour to his godmother's cottage.

"Cole darling!"

In her old age she still managed to keep her skin free of wrinkles but her hair had turned gray.

"I need a horse. And mom's guitar, do you still have it?"

***

Cole never imagined riding to the ball in style. His godmother sure knew how to deliver. She'd called her friend and within minutes he arrived with a horse and carriage.

The road to the castle was bumpy. He held tight to his mother's cerulean blue guitar. It was hand-made by his grandfather and passed down to his mother, who passed it down to him.

Lights and a soft melodic fiddle played in the distance. Cole looked ahead at the beautifully lit castle as they approached. Being a musician would never get him a home as grand as this. But he didn't care, music brought him to a different world. One where his parents were there and he could be happy again. It was an impossible dream, but it didn't stop him from having it.