Fairy Tales

by prettybluebirds

Sandy and I have been best friends since our preschool days. Born a year apart and close neighbors, the only two families on a long stretch of rural road, we naturally became pals. Their family consisted of Sandy, and her brother, Roger, while I had eleven siblings, nine older and two younger. With their parents often gone, Sandy and Roger sort of melded into our family. I recall both of them frequently staying overnight. Of course, I spent time at Sandy's house too, but that would have slowed if my parents had known how often we were alone. We got busted once when Sandy and I decided to fry some chicken, then realized we didn't know what we were doing. I called my mother to ask for instructions, and naturally, she wanted to know where Marie (Sandy's mother) was. Needless to say, my father was there in five minutes to pick us up.

Our personalities were, and still are, polar opposites. Sandy was petite, blonde, and feminine in every sense of the word, while I was dark-haired and long-legged, the proverbial tomboy. I tended to be more reserved and cautious about making new friends, while Sandy was outgoing and drew people to her like a magnet.

We spent many happy days wandering the dirt roads and playing in the woods between our two homes, things that wouldn't be safe for two little girls today. One of our favorite pastimes was fishing in nearby Crystal Lake. We would get up at first light and walk a mile to the lake, where an older gentleman let us fish off his pier. He gave us the names Ike and Mike, which stuck with us for most of our childhood. I was not too fond of worms, and Sandy hated to take fish off the hooks, so it worked out great between us. She attached the worms, and I removed the hooks from the fish.

Our dream was to marry two princes who were brothers, then live in castles next to one another for the rest of our lives; that way, we could be together forever. We often talked late into the night about the wonderful life we would lead as cherished princesses. Sadly, like all little girls, we soon learned that life is not a fairy tale.

After high school, we lost track of one another until, twelve years later, I divorced my party-boy prince and moved next door to Sandy in a rural area of our hometown, Shelby. She had three small children at the time, and I had my son, Roy. We renewed our friendship, and she was helping me as I worked to put my life back together. Life looked good until the night Sandy's husband, Dan, came home from his truck driving job, walked into their bedroom, stuck a deer rifle in his mouth, and blew his head off. An autopsy revealed he was high on a mixture of alcohol and drugs---a sad end for my friend's prince.

Of course, Sandy could not bear to live in that house after the tragic incident. She used the insurance money the trucking company paid her to buy a house in town. I secured a job in Hesperia, Michigan, and moved there to be close to my work. Life had separated us again, and neither of us had yet to find our prince or live our fairy-tale life.

Time went by, and I met and married a dairy farmer. My life wasn't exactly as Sandy and I envisioned it. Princes aren't supposed to smell like cows; a princess shouldn't have to milk cows, mow the lawn, garden, and such, should she? It didn't matter. I discovered I enjoyed being a farmer's wife instead of a princess.

Sandy wasn't as fortunate. She could never seem to find whatever she was looking for. She lived with several different men and married five more times, including our mutual friend, Brandon. None of them ever lasted more than a few months or years. Currently, Sandy switches off living with her three children, Jody, Angel, and Sherry. She is seventy-six and in poor health, so it is unlikely she will marry again.

I visited Sandy a couple of months ago, and I asked her, "Sandy, what happened? Why didn't you stay married to any of your husbands? I thought Brandon would be perfect for you. The two of you were friends long before you married."

Sandy laughed, "I guess I never gave up looking for my prince. I wanted a man who would treat me like a princess, but I finally had to concede that there is no such thing. Brandon gave it his best shot, but I grew tired of his pathetic efforts, There are no princes left in the world today."

Sandy and I are non-biological sisters, and I will love her until death claims one or both of us, but I feel sad knowing she never found that special closeness with another man. I believe she cared deeply for her first husband, Dan, and would have stuck with him forever despite his less-than-prince-like behavior. Perhaps that is why she could never settle for another. It's not for me to judge. She is my forever friend, and I will love and support her wherever life takes us in our final years.

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