2025 Short Story & Essay Contest: Honorable Mention, Adult Short Story Contest
By Olivia Ikenberry
The man in the white suit stood on the edge of a cliff, staring out at the sea. He appeared to be having a rousing conversation with himself. Upon closer observation, he was in a deep conversation with a sparrow. From a distance, she sounded the same as most birds of her species: sweet, songy trills.
“You see, my perspective has changed. I understand so much more. At least, I feel I do. I did it all wrong. It was just… well, I was cursed, you know. Not that makes me less guilty of the wickedness… my wickedness.” The man interrupted her. “It wasn’t wickedness. They were mistakes. Simple, hurtful, awful mistakes that, at the time, seemed justified. No matter how selfish or cruel, it seemed to be the only reasonable answer.” The sparrow nodded as tears dropped from her eyes. She couldn’t recall crying before. Not as a bird. Not as human.
“I saw you and had to come and say thank you. For half a century, I have wanted to see you and express my gratitude,” her voice was a harmoniously lilted chirrup. The man smiled and nodded a single nod. “What of the first fifty years?” he queried. “It was a toss-up between an unrelenting barrage of head pecks and poop on that fantastic suit.” They shared a laugh. “Timing and perspective.” he mused. She traveled down his outstretched arm to his hand, sweetly landing on his shoulder. She rested there in his palm. “I wish I knew then what I now know. Would I have been different?“
“Even if you knew it, could you do anything with that knowledge? In my experience, most people don’t,” he replied. “Probably not.” She felt her heart sink in her tiny bird body as she admitted this. In her entire human existence, she rarely, if ever, felt her heart. Further still, she scoffed at others’ feelings. What she did feel was always swollen with rage, greed or envy. Most often, it was a mix of all three. Always seeking more, Craving better. If not that, she thirsted for annihilation and destruction—even the suffering of her children.
Before her life as a bird, before the man in the white suit came out of the mouth of Leviathan, she was Galvine DuMonte Castille. The wife of Pierre Castille. She was also the mother of his five adorable moppets, Annah, Ansel, Anise, Andres, and Joshua. Joshua was her prize. He was born with a head of full, thick white hair, an earnest, severe look in his wolf color eyes, and olive skin. His appearance made him something no one else had—an exotic pet, a curiosity, an object of fascination. She knew that he was meant for her. She deserved something that stood out. She would be the mother of the white-haired boy with the severe and ethereal countenance. Her other children would never measure up to her Joshua. Her obsession continued to grow as she placed him above everyone but herself.
Her marriage and subsequent family resulted from her father’s insistence that she be married as soon as she was of age to do so. He knew the dark secret of his family’s curse. The curse was laid when one of the foremothers in her girlhood rejected the advances of an old enchanter. For this spurn, the demented spell caster marked the women of her bloodline to be charming, beautiful, yet insatiably wicked enchanters of men. The more beautiful the woman was, the darker her heart. Galvine was the most beautiful of them all—hazel blond hair, which shimmered auburn in the light, skin like a lightly burnished peach, and crystalline cosmic gray eyes. Her features and form were lovely by all accounts. Outwardly, she was flawless. Inwardly, her spirit had been corrupted by the curse in unspeakable ways.
Instead of Rudolpho DuMont, Duke of Chambore, seeking a way to break the curse or protect his daughter, he chose to find her a husband far from the family. He would pay him handsomely and never speak of her again. The plan was simple. Galvine’s unearthly beauty, part of the curse, made this seemingly easy to execute. It proved more difficult. Though her curse had an enchantment element, her hostile and often violent behavior overshadowed any sorcery. She often enraged or insulted potential suitors. Occasionally, they would flee for personal safety. One such young man lost two fingers when she “flirtatiously” bit them off. Exasperated with his daughter, he took her to the forest for a walk. He told her the truth about his family and her curse. She realized she would never be free of her wickedness and flew into a rage, lunging at her father. He bashed her head with a large rock, rendering her unconscious. When she awoke, she found herself at the bottom of a well. Her head was ringing and spinning. She could feel the crusted, dry blood of the wound on the side of her head. She struggled to get her bearing when she heard a shout from above.
“Hello, below!” the voice of a young man rang with enthusiasm. The sun was too bright for her to get a good look. Frankly, she didn’t care to. His voice hurt her head. She was content with this well as her tomb. She said softly, “Please go away, Sir. Your assistance is not needed nor is it wanted here,” hoping to deter further interest in her plight. “Your father sent me here to fetch you and paid me handsomely to do so. I am an honest man of my word. Having promised your father that I would fetch you and you will be indeed be fetched. I have fallen into this very same well several times. Thrice as a child and once this past spring. I am more than capable of fetching you.” Galvine, in a last effort, pleaded, “I am not fit for society. I beg you to leave and don’t look back. I am not what you suppose I am. Leave me in peace.” He did not. He jumped into the well, tied her to his back, and scaled the wall brick by brick with no hesitation. On land, he untied her from himself. He looked at her and was instantly enchanted.
Funny enough, Galvine felt a hint of enchantment too. How could someone be such a fool, she wondered. She wanted to follow him and see his world. Her curiosity about this man almost took the stinging throb out of her head wound. “You surely are the most beautiful and rare woman in all the world, as your father promised. He also promised your hand in marriage. You are too special to take…” He stood up to walk away. “Sir, you do not take. I give.” she surprised herself with these words. “I cannot. I am not worthy.”
“You can, and you will.” She grasped his hand. With his hand holding her hand, there was a stillness in her, at least for the moment. They were married at dawn the next day.
She indeed enchanted him. In moments like flecks of light, he enchanted her, too. For his part, he did all that she asked without hesitation or question. Her whim was his command. Content to serve at her demand, he believed this was true love. He needed only to gain a glimpse of her smile or a titter of a laugh. She laughed the most when he was in pain. He was her lapdog and manservant for the first years of their marriage.
When he tried to work or leave her in their small, unassuming home, which she often complained about, she would become enraged and threaten him. Obscene rants and frequent tirades kept him from attending his business in town. To meet Galvine’s constant needs, he had to ensure the home was staffed. This meant hiring others to manage a modest import-export business he had inherited from his father. For the most part, the business ran as it should despite Pierre’s lack of an enterprising inclination.
For many years, they were able to maintain. Her flare-ups and violence were routine. He hired governesses for each of the children, and even a tiny home was built in the garden to keep them from their mother’s cursed cruelty. Through routines and rituals, he protected the children from their mother. All that changed when Joshua was born. The flecks of light she had were gone. She preserved all her light for her grand prize prince, Joshua.
In most cases, maternal love expands the heart. Maternal love can show you the innocent child in most living creatures. Galvine’s curse corrupted that. This was not maternal love. This was something dark and obsessive. In certain lights, it appeared to be maternal affection. In truth, he was an extension of her grasping, clawing, and needing more. Her need to manipulate and control was evident to everyone but Pierre. She used him to justify her own wills and wishes. “Fire that gardener, it’s for the baby,” “The chef doesn’t prepare what the baby likes,” or “The governess had to be let go because she didn’t want to be hit by the baby.” She used him to denigrate and humiliate her other children. Parading him in the finest clothes money could buy while they wore the outgrown clothes from their governesses’ children. He was sent to the best schools, while his siblings could barely read or write. Indeed, an arrogant, selfish, indulgent little prize, just as his mother raised him to be.
One afternoon, Pierre received notice of an urgent meeting at Harmley and Culder, the accounting firm that handled all financial and business affairs. There was never such a notice in all the years they managed his accounts. He wasted no time. He only told Pearla, the house manager. She never divulged anything he shared with her.
A large, angry crowd of men were practically rioting outside of the Harmley and Culder. They were banging on the doors and windows. A man shouted. Another hurled a bottle with a lit rag in the opening. The flames expanded in front of the door. In awe of the fire, a man grabbed Pierre and pulled him into a nearby shop. It was Culder. He was visibly shaken. He explained that Jenkins, their assistant, had stolen everyone’s money to appease his mistress while his account remained relatively unscathed. Harmley confessed to having seen the two together in compromising positions. The pain of the betrayal broke the enchantment and his heart. This cursed bride had destroyed him. At that moment, he felt nothing was left. Culder offered softly, “There is a way to help us make it right if you are willing to risk it. A treasure and it’s only a week’s journey by ship. We have already gathered a crew. You are the only one with enough goodwill for us and the town to do it. You can sail tonight.” Pierre agreed. In a flash, he remembered his children. He couldn’t leave them, but he had to. He had to make things right.
Pierre gave specific instructions to pay the governesses generously and provide for his child’s needs. He wanted to be assured that his wife would not know his whereabouts or activities. As far as he was concerned, she was Jenkins’s problem now. He and his crew set sail for a week-long journey.
For her part, Galvine was rampaging through the home as usual. She felt paranoid that they knew about her affair with Jenkins. She sensed that they were whispering about her, so she fired everyone. All but Pearla left. She picked up her knitting and sat in the big chair beside the fireplace. “Old fool, did you not hear me? You are fired.” Continuing to knit, she ignored Galvine’s ravings and reminded her that if she left, it would be a dereliction of duty, Pearla calmly replied, not looking up from her knitting. Just then, a knock at the door. Pearla reminded her that she was not her employee. Galvine frustratedly answered the door. It was Jenkins with heart in hand. She promptly slammed the door so hard the windows rattled. She walked away and returned to find Joshua biting Pearla’s ankle. In response, she doused him with a cup of lukewarm tea, which, for the record, was effective.
As for Pierre, the five-day journey turned into a month. They were out of food and water. He had accepted his fate when a voice spoke to him and was sure he was delirious when he saw the colossal beast beside his ship. “I am the great wonder, Leviathan. What do you seek?” he said in a bellowing, compassionate voice. “I need to go home. I am weak and perishing. I need to see my children one last time. I had hoped to gather the treasure for my town, but that’s impossible.”
“This I grant you.” instantaneously, they were on the beach port of Pierre’s hometown. The Leviathan opened his mouth on the beach. Hoards of treasure spilled from its mouth, and a man in a white suit stepped out. It was as if someone called their names. The children and his wife raced to see their father, and the man in the white suit. He beaconed Galvine close and whispered to her. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she nodded. “Yes.” She was instantly transfigured into a sparrow that took flight.
The man in the white suit sat on a stone, bare feet in the grass—his companion now perched on his shoulder. “I watched over them after I changed. I kept my distance but watched. They grew into fine and loving people. Annah, Ansel, Andres, and Anise were kind, compassionate, and humble like their father. I was with Pierre the day he died. Perched on his windowsill, singing him to sleep one last time. My poor Joshua was destroyed. He became bitter, distrustful, and mean-spirited like his mother. He lived his entire life unable to love. That was all my fault.”
The man gently scooped her from his left shoulder with his right hand. They were face to face. “Galvine, my lovely, he made his own choices, too. You may have started him wrong, but he continued on the path. Forgive yourself. I remember the day we met. I asked if you ever wanted to fly away from your cursed life. You chose when you said yes.” “Sometimes, I dream about having a family again. I wonder if I would make the same mistakes. Could I be a nurturing and loving mother? Could I make the sacrifices they needed from me? I would like to try someday.” Galvine confided. “I know of a garden with a nest of sparrow eggs that their mother recently abandoned.” said the man. This filled her with joy. She fluttered around him as he walked toward her new life as a mama bird.
