The Liar

The big, red sun was setting above the empty road in the far-off suburb of a major city. There, where long, sharp shadows slid along the tall wooden fence, between an open trash bin and a street lamp, a small, red-haired girl huddled and cried. She had begged all day, gathering a few coins, and now she discovered that there was just a hole in the pocket of her dirty dress.

At the same time, on that very road, a big black limousine with tinted windows slowly moved. The car passed by the muddy girl and shortly afterward, it came to a halt. It remained there for a while, and nothing noteworthy happened. The engine hummed softly, and the car’s tailpipe emitted a faint wisp of smoke. Then, without any sudden movement, the vehicle began to reverse and stopped in front of the tearful child.

A driver in a gray uniform stepped out of the car and opened the door for an elegant lady in a lavish coat.

The lady approached the girl, crouched in front of her, and gently asked, “What’s your name, honey?”

“Missy,” the child muttered.

“Where are your parents?” the lady continued.

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

“Who takes care of you?” the lady inquired further.

Again, the girl shrugged her shoulders and wiped her eyes with her palms.

“Would you like to come with me?” the elegant lady finally asked.

The girl nodded. The lady smiled, extended her hand, and led the child along with her.

Missy grew up in a luxurious villa, receiving the utmost care. She flourished into a lovely high school student and reveled in every desire she had.

One morning, during breakfast, after silently sipping her favorite milk tea, the lady said,

“Missy, I won’t be home for three days. Enjoy everything, but avoid touching the golden bottle in my bathroom. It holds my favorite perfume. It’s the scent of my priceless pleasure, and I don’t want to share it with anyone. I will be very upset if you disobeyed. Do you understand?”

“I understand, ma’am,” Missy replied and promised her compliance.

On the same day the lady departed, Missy hosted a lavish garden party for her school friends.She herself was a polite and shy girl, yet her indulged friends occupied every nook of the house, from the rooms to the terraces and pools. Fortunately, Missy had the presence of mind to lock the lady’s bathroom in time, preventing anyone from accessing it.

The party lasted for two days and two nights. There was dancing, jumping, drinking, and kissing. Everyone had a blast, except for the servants who, for the entire time, had been anxious about every vase and crystal glass in the house. However, on the third day, with a lot of effort, everything was cleaned up, and the house was as orderly as if nothing had occurred. A collective sigh of relief echoed through the house, including from Missy.

That same evening, as Missy lay in bed, she admitted to herself that she felt more exhausted than satisfied. In that moment, an unusual thought crossed her mind. “I wonder what is the scent of priceless pleasure like?” The more she pondered, the stronger her curiosity tugged at her. She considered it harmless to at least examine the bottle up close. “I’ll just read what’s written on it, and I won’t open it,” she reassured herself and got out of bed.

It was a quiet night, and Missy crept stealthily through the dark hallways, then unlocked the lady’s bathroom and entered silently. She had been here before and knew how nice and clean it looked, but she had never paid attention to the shelf with perfumes.

The golden bottle stood out among the others, and she noticed it immediately. She took the bottle in her hand, and as soon as she touched that mysterious object, a pleasant excitement surged through her. Her blood raced faster through her veins. She wanted to turn the bottle, so she placed it carefully in her other hand. Instantly, a new wave of excitement engulfed her, and pleasant warmth rushed through her body.

She turned the bottle carefully in her hands, searching for any inscription, but there was no label. The longer she turned the bottle, the more her curiosity grew, and her excitement became sweeter. Her blood was now trembling strongly in her veins. She was breathing very shallowly.

She was so close to that magical secret, and she wanted to know the kind of mysterious pleasure that this scent evoked. “The bottle is right here in my hands,” she thought, “and since it’s already here, I could just move my fingers a bit more and pull out the stopper. No one will see me,” she encouraged herself. “I’ll open it just for a moment and close it immediately. No one will know.” At the mere thought of it, a new wave of warmth spread through her body, and her heart raced like crazy.

Then she pulled the cork out, and her heart skipped a beat. The bottle was now open. At that moment, she wasn’t breathing at all.

She held her breath, unable to exhale. She didn’t dare peer inside the bottle or bring her nose close to the opening. With bated breath, she gazed at the minuscule droplet of precious liquid forming at the base of the cork.

She set the bottle down and touched the tiny droplet with her finger. She brought her finger to her nose, closed her eyes, took a gentle inhale, and... “Ha!” a powerful rush surged through her body, every hair on her skin stood on end, her blood seemed to explode in her veins, and then she convulsed with pleasure and let out a muffled cry, “Aaah!“... Pleasure engulfed her, a pleasure she hadn’t even known existed. It was as if heaven and eternity had touched her body at the same time.

For several moments, she was almost unconscious, and when she regained her senses, she was seized with panic. She closed the bottle and hurried out of the lady’s bathroom. Her heart pounded as if it would burst out of her chest. She dashed into her own bathroom and began washing her hands, but no matter how much she scrubbed and rubbed her fingers with soap, alcohol, and vinegar, the enchanting scent still lingered, as it was indelible.

The next day, the lady returned from her trip. During lunch, she cheerfully chatted about everything she had experienced on her journey. Just as she scooped up her favorite lemon pudding with a silver spoon, she casually brought up, “Darling, did you happen to open my golden perfume?”

“No!” the girl replied, her face reddening. She hastily popped a cookie into her mouth to mask her embarrassment.

The lady now locked her gaze onto the girl’s eyes and repeated the question: “Are you absolutely certain you didn’t tamper with my golden bottle?”

The girl shook her head, appearing almost incredulous. “I didn’t!” she insisted.

The lady forcefully pushed her napkin away and rose from her seat in frustration. “Missy, come here!” she ordered.

Missy gradually wiped her mouth with the napkin and got up. “If you please, ma’am,” she said. “Here I am!”

The lady continued sternly, “Give me your hand!”

The girl extended her left hand.

“The other hand!” the lady insisted.

The girl extended her right hand.

The lady grabbed that hand, lifted its fingers to her nose, and... it all became clear to her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she reopened her eyes, she spoke, “Missy, everyone can make mistakes. Admit it, and you will be forgiven. I am asking you for the third time, did you handle my golden perfume?”

The girl stayed quiet. As she raised her gaze, she locked eyes with the woman directly. “No! I didn’t!” she stated firmly.

The elegant lady covered her face with her hand and sighed once again. “Missy, you didn’t follow my instructions,” she said. “After all I’ve done for you, you’re still lying to me. You no longer deserve my grace.” She waved her hand in front of the girl’s face, and suddenly, Missy yawned. Her eyes grew heavy, and she felt so sleepy that she instantly collapsed to the floor, falling into a deep sleep.

When Missy woke up, she found herself sprawled in the shade of a dark fence along an empty road in a far-off suburb. A street lamp stood on one side, while a trash bin occupied the other.

She didn’t know where to turn. In a single moment, her life had completely changed. She started wandering aimlessly. Her beautiful dress soon turned into rags, and Missy became a dirty and disheveled vagabond. She survived on food she found in trash bins and drank leftover water from plastic bottles she collected in parks. In the evenings, she would huddle against fences, shield herself with a worn piece of cardboard, and drift into sleep in that manner.

One day Missy spotted an apple branch above a beautiful stone fence. A plump, juicy apple dangled over the sidewalk as if teasing her. Missy skillfully climbed the fence and tried to reach for the apple, but no matter how she stretched on her toes and strained, she could barely touch it. She was about to jump when she heard a voice, “Missy, did you handle my gold bottle?”

Below the fence stood the elegant lady with a small white dog on a leash, waiting for an answer.

“No!” the girl replied and leaped up to grab the apple.

But the apple slipped from her grasp, slid down her hand, and rolled onto the road. Missy swiftly descended from the wall and chased after that precious fruit. She hadn’t tasted one in a long time and she wanted to get hold of that red apple at any cost. She raced past the lady not noticing the speeding car. The driver tried to brake, but... it was too late. The vehicle hit the girl, and... Missy remained lying unconsciously on the road.

For a brief moment, all was still. Thick red hair lay motionless on the dusty road. Then the small dog barked and pulled the lady around the corner. At the same time, the door of a sports car swung open and a famous tennis player jumped out. He knelt beside the girl, and when he realized she wasn’t severely injured, he gently lifted her, carried her to his car, and drove her to his home.

In the magnificent villa of the young tennis player, several doctors attended to the health of the unfortunate girl. Missy was recovering quickly and enjoying the luxury as she once did. Sometimes, when she would walk in the garden with the nurse, she would meet the tennis player. Every time, the young man inquired about her health with special care. He always had a smile on his face, radiated warmth, and, as Missy believed, he possessed an irresistible appeal.

Their meetings became more frequent, and with each encounter, their conversations grew a little longer. Missy felt as if she could see in his eyes that he also had an affection for her, and she did everything she could to foster that sentiment. She dreamed of the day when this handsome and rich young man would ask for her hand in marriage.

It was Friday morning when Missy arrived in the garden with the nurse earlier than usual. She settled onto the bench surrounded by tall boxy shrubs, her favorite spot.

The attentive nurse draped a blanket around her with utmost care.

“Thank you, Mary,” Missy said. “I think I won’t need you anymore today. It seems to me like I’ve fully recovered. I would like to be alone for a while.

The young nurse politely smiled and departed, and Missy opened a book.

She knew that every day at this time, the tennis player finishes his training, and she was aware he would pass by this way soon. She had already heard him shouting to someone on the court, and she was sure his cheerful and tanned figure would appear on the path behind the bushes any moment now. She lowered her gaze to the book, pretending to read, and then she heard the voice, “Come on, Missy, confess! Did you use my golden perfume?”

Between Missy and the sun stood the elegant lady, holding an umbrella.

“No!” Missy replied sharply, then whispered, “Madam, please go away! I’m expecting someone!”

“Have it your way!” the elegant lady responded and calmly continued down the path behind the bushes.

Almost at the same time, from the opposite side, the tennis player appeared with brisk steps. Walking energetically beside him was the charming nurse, trailed by two hastening police officers.

“That’s her!” the nurse shouted. “She’s the one who stole the gentleman’s gold necklace!”

“What are you talking about?” Missy was confused.

“I saw you!” the nurse threatened with her slender finger, then turned to the police officers. “I saw her take the golden necklace from the drawer and put it in her pocket. Search her, you’ll surely find it!”

The police officers searched the bewildered girl and found the necklace in her pocket. The jealous nurse had deftly planted it there when she carefully covered Missy with the blanket.

“Sir!...” the excited nurse spoke to the tennis player, while a lock of her black curly hair playfully slipped down her forehead. “I told you she’s a vagabond and a thief. I knew it the moment I saw her. Just remember how she was dressed when you first brought me to her. She was wearing ragged clothes and expensive perfume. That was suspicious to me right away. She must have stolen that perfume too. After everything both you and I have done for her, this is how she repays us! I think someone like her deserves public contempt and jail time!” The lovely nurse burst into tears and, as if overwhelmed by pain, she threw herself into the tennis player’s arms. She hoped he would embrace her for comfort, and indeed, he did.

No level of astonishment, tears, or explanations made a difference. There was no doubt who was the thief. Missy was labeled as a vagabond, and all her protests fell on deaf ears. The police officers took her into custody. A stern judge showed no mercy to this deceitful thief either, and ultimately, the unfortunate girl was sentenced to many years in prison.

On a chilly winter morning, the massive penitentiary door creaked open and swung wide. In the wide frame of gray, rusted iron stood Missy. She was dressed in a soiled gown and worn men’s shoes. Her once-vibrant hair was now disheveled and somewhat gray. For a moment she gazed at the vast street before her in confusion, then a weary guard approached her from behind and nudged her gently. Uncertain and almost dazed, Missy took a hesitant step toward freedom, and – Clang! – the door closed behind her.

She walked for who knows how long, without any clear direction, as the long winter night descended and snow began to fall. She stopped on a desolate street next to a trash bin, but found nothing to eat there. Weary and hungry, she sat on the ground and leaned against the pole of a streetlight standing next to the dark fence.

In that moment, there wasn’t a single thought in her mind. She simply stared ahead and shivered from the cold. The snow fell harder and harder. Then, Missy pulled her hand out of the torn pocket, placed a finger under her nose, and inhaled the scent of her priceless pleasure.

In the same instant, on the road in front of her, a large black limousine with tinted windows passed by. A little further down the street, the car came to a stop. It stood there for a while, and nothing notable happened. Snow was falling, and the car’s exhaust pipe emitted a gentle mist. Then, the vehicle moved backwards and stopped again. The driver in uniform opened the rear door, and an elegant lady in an exquisite coat stepped out of the car.

She approached the freezing woman, crouched in front of her, and said, “Missy, did you touch my gold perfume?”

Missy was quite pale, and her blue lips trembled. “Yes, I did,” she said in a hushed and trembling voice, “and I don’t regret it. I felt the greatest joy one can ever feel.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” said the lady and stroked the woman’s hair. “You’re forgiven. Come with me.” The lady took the freezing woman’s arm and led her toward the car. “You know, my dear,” the lady continued, “I changed my favorite perfume a long time ago. This new one is even better. Oh!” she cheerfully sighed. “You must try it.” Both women got into the car and it disappeared into the distance.

And so, Missy found peace and happiness once again in the lady’s home.

However, some say it didn’t happen quite like that. They claim that while it’s true the car stopped and stayed there for a while, it eventually departed and never returned. They also mention that the following morning, dustmen discovered a frozen woman beside the trash bin. They speak of a divine scent that lingered around her, remaining in the snow for a long time, only fading in the spring when the snow melted. There are even those who swear they can still sense that scent today whenever they pass by.

Yet, who could truly know what’s true and what is not? It’s not always easy to distinguish where reality ends and fantasy begins.

The Liar is a fairy tale from a collection of contemporary fairy tales Sprites in Jeans by B. K. De Fabris.