The Jester

La Betty’s bedtime indulgences took an hour to complete. First her languid bath with a teaspoon of nourishing leaf-alga oil diluted by silky lime-infused mineral water. After her long bath La Betty wraps herself in a towel large enough to dry a titan. Its colours are soothing light and dark tans with flowing cream swirls, cozy and thick like a warm cappuccino. La Betty strokes her hair using a brush made with Argentinian porco-do-mato bristles. She stands quite a time savouring her gowns in the ylang-ylang scented closet. On this night she chooses an antique green silk Fortuny dressing gown.

La Betty had been asleep in her bed for five hours when the clinking of little bells woke her. La Betty was discombobulated. She could not decide whether she was actually still asleep. If she was asleep the dream bells would continue to ring. If she was indeed awake and opened her eyes supposedly there would be silence.

La Betty’s pillow seemed somehow to become a big marshmallow. The icing sugar powdered her face. Shaking her head La Betty opened her eyes. She could see lavender marshmallows attached to a broad leather strap that was itself attached to an unusual single-string instrument. La Betty was very surprised she hadn’t immediately noticed there was also a muscle bound giant flaunting the peculiar instrument. The giant was dressed like a Renaissance merry-maker. Or perhaps his costume was a mockery of the Vatican Swiss Guard. The giant’s red and black satin pants were in fact very short puffy bloomers. Thirty gold buttons were attached to the sumptuous matching jacket.

“Marshmallows are so jolly! Jollier than jolly,” exclaimed the giant. He shook the leather strap. Some marshmallows drifted away and others held on, ringing like bells.

The huge jester plucked the instrument’s single string. The sound it made was of a breeze over a dainty pond. For an instant a sweet-smelling fog filled La Betty’s bedroom. When the giant quaked with laughter the fog disappeared. The giant chirped, “sweet-smelling frog!” The giant reached over to fetch a sweet-smelling frog from behind some purple drapery. He then lost himself in a joyous roar. He plucked the string again – the marshmallows drifted away.

Next the mischievous giant unbuttoned his jacket. Under the jacket La Betty was not sure what she saw, whether a rough dark wool undergarment or the giant’s dense dark chest hair. La Betty looked away quickly. Doing so, by turning her head, she was facing a stuffed pallid pink flamingo standing on one scrawny leg. “Ding-a-ling a-ling,” the flamingo peeped.

The jovial giant smiled. The cheer in his smile was as if there was peace on earth. He announced he would sing a love song. La Betty cringed, thinking “Not for me no sirree. No! Please not for me.” The giant nodded warmly as if he had heard her thoughts.

“I am at my best singing a love song,” he said, “Baritone love ditties are irresistible, and so they should be. The lyrics are somewhat rhythmic and also somewhat rhyme.” This incited the flamingo to laugh so heartily it had to flap its bony wings to stay upright. The giant too was giggling hysterically yet he began to sing,

Oh, pretty one, let us joke Joke the ripper undid his zipper He brought giddiness just for you And gaudiness too You, my sweet, could use a laugh And a bath, you do the math We’d like you to smile We’d walk a mile to see your white teeth and the pink gums beneath…

La Betty recognized this calculated temptation, this offer of eternal silliness, this seduction away from all the pretty things that keep her pure. She knew what the muscle bound jester wanted from her – to abandon her shopping, and for what? His eyes twinkled all right, but it was a signal that he was only pretending.

La Betty pulled one of the pillow-size marshmallows over her eyes. Muffled but adamant she chanted the protective names of haute couture fashion houses:

Kenzo, Fendi, Calvin Klein, Givenchy, Comme des Garçons, Coach 1941, Valentino, Dior, And Yves St. Laurent.

The giant was gone and La Betty’s pillow marshmallow was now becoming a very plump Barbie-pink flamingo. Its legs were tucked under and La Betty’s head nestled into its warm abundant feathers. The pink down powdered her face. Her determination and faith were a solace; the giant had been testing what he could get away with. La Betty was no fool.