The Princess had noticed how sad her Clyde seemed the last time he came into her room. She knew he was helping her a lot and feeling run down. She knew because Clyde sometimes talked out loud while doing things—about how he felt he had wasted his life, about how maybe he should have left her in a home long ago, just like his then wife had said. He talked, but he didn’t know she was listening, or maybe he didn’t realize she understood.
She always listened to her Clyde. She remembered, back when they were kids, how much he had liked her and how much he wanted to be her prince. It hurt her to say no, but her mom had told her she would know her prince when she met him. And although she loved Clyde, he was no prince. Perhaps he was better than a prince—he was her friend. She didn’t always know how to tell him things, but she trusted that he understood her, that he knew her completely. She had never seen him like this before, though.
The Princess felt awkward—not only with Clyde, but with her own body. Her mind felt the same, but she no longer liked to run or play as much. She always felt tired. Her skin had grown saggy and loose, her hair had changed color long ago. Sometimes she frightened herself—but then things would slip back into place, and she felt like herself again. Clyde… that was another story.
It was time to surprise him. It had worked before, so it had to work now.
She opened the window and grabbed the tree she used to play on. It was harder than she remembered, but she managed. Climbing down was even more difficult, but somehow she succeeded. Once on the ground, she ran to the family room window and tapped. It took a moment, but then she saw Clyde’s frame cautiously move toward her.
She tapped again. Clyde hesitated, probably scared, so she sang the song she sometimes sang to him:
“Oh, where oh where is my Clyde?
He should be by my side.”
“Princess?”
She heard him whisper her name and began giggling. She couldn’t help it. It felt so good to play a fun game again without worrying about all the other burdens Clyde or anyone else wanted her to worry about.
The window slid open, and there he was.
“Surprise!” she said, bounding in.
“Princess?” Clyde said again.
She tagged him on the shoulder and darted behind the couch.
“Princess?”
“Catch me before I count to one hundred!”
Clyde hesitated. In the old days, he would have lunged immediately. Now, with his gray hair and slower reflexes, he hesitated.
“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine.”
As she counted, something clicked. Clyde’s smile grew, and he began stalking around the sofa.
“Forty-one, forty-two,” she continued, grinning as she kept the sofa between herself and Clyde. But Clyde wasn’t one to accept defeat. He dove over the sofa, reaching for her as she bounded backward, giggling.
“I almost had you!” Clyde exclaimed.
“Seventy-three, seventy-four!”
Clyde sprang to his feet, seemingly ready to catch her—only to stumble and crash into the wall beside her. She screamed and sprinted to the other side of the sofa, giggling the entire way.
“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine!”
Now Clyde was bounding across the room, gaining on her—but at the last second, he seemed to slow down, almost in slow motion.
“One hundred!”
“Oh no!” Clyde wheezed as he caught her in a hug at the very last second. “I was so close that time.”
“Why are you sweating so much?” the Princess asked, still giggling.
“You’re just too fast for me, I guess.”
“No, every time you visit me upstairs, you seem to sweat too.”
“Maybe stress. I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m sorry if I’m stress, but no stress today. Only fun! I’m going to go upstairs and find a game. Maybe I’ll bring some dolls, since you dyed your hair gray to look like your dad used to.”
“I didn’t… Well, your hair is gray too… Ugh, you’re right. I must have wanted to look like my dad.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
“Princess,” he called, pausing. “Thank you. This is really fun.”
She giggled and ran up the stairs, surprisingly fast for someone of her advanced age.