Maze of Fables

She repeated the phrase over and over to herself. She had to be brave. It had crossed her mind a few times over the hours as she wondered through the columns of brush that she just might not make it out. Of course it would be a lovely place to die. Row up on row of bright green, the click clack of her boots on the cobblestone and towering statues replicating Aesop’s Fables, could make for a charming walk if she wasn’t so damn lost.


She heard footsteps and stopped immediately. It was hours since she had entered the maze and she had yet to see another person in all her wandering. The steps grew louder until a flash of red and brown appeared as the figure rounded the corner in front of her. She held her breath and waited until it, no he, spotted her.


He smiled in a way that drew her attention away from his flaming red hair and made her notice his face for the first time. He had a nice face with small features and a straight nose. “Hi” she said stupidly before rushing on with “It’s nice to see another face in this place.”


“Yes it is” he clamored stepping forward quickly and extending his hand. “I’m Benson.”


She smiled politely and took his hand “Clare, it’s nice to meet you.” His hand was large and firm and it’s warmth made her realize just how chilly it was getting as the sun set.


Without another exchange they began walking together back the way that Benson came from. Where he had come from the left they turned right and walked in amicable silence until they came upon a large sculpture blocking the path in front of them so that they would have to squeeze around either side of it in order to go left or right.


“What an odd placement for a sculpture” Clare mumbled to herself. Benson answered with a grunt and they stood silently taking in the beauty of what stood before them. It was a woman, nude but for a cloth draped over her right breast. Her face was serene and a small smile played on her lips. Her right hand rested seductively on her rounded hip and her left was held up so that only her index finger was erect and pointing to the left. Beside her was a small, and devious looking fox wearing a top hat and holding a masquerade mask beseechingly up to the woman.


Suddenly Benson began to move forward “Well, if I know anything it is to always listen to a beautiful woman” He smiled back at her cheerily as he shuffled around the enormous statue to the left. “She is absolutely breathtaking isn’t she? Why, it’s no wonder whoever runs this contest is able to pay out such a large sum of money. He must have a great deal to afford statues like this.”


His eyes were on her now as he walked away, looking over his shoulder and presumably about to ask her to come along when a sound like scraping metal pierced the silence and all she saw was blood and Bensons flaming hair rolling on the cobblestone. Her heart leapt into her throat and she forced her feet to move. She scampered around the statue to the right and began to run, tears stinging the backs of her eyes and the maze a giant blur in front of her. She tripped twice but made her feet keep moving even as her the palms of her hands sang out in disagreement.


She kept thinking that the ad in the newspaper had said that “whoever gets out” will win ten thousand dollars. It had not guaranteed that anyone would. She wanted to stop and kick the hedges and berate herself for being so stupid but there was no time and she was desperate to escape.
She stopped abruptly as she rounded a corner and came upon two small figurines. She hardly took in the small oyster and mouse statues before she noticed that to the left was what appeared to be an exit twenty feet from where she stood; a whole in the hedges just big enough for a single person to fit through. Hope filled her heart and she almost rushed forward to victory, before remembering the sculptures in front of her.


The oyster was on the left and opened up, while the mouse on the right peered inside. She noticed a small plaque standing behind the animals and stepped forward to read it.

“The Gluttons fatte, that daintie fare devoure,
And seeke about, to satisfie theire taste:
And what they like, into theire bellies poure,
This justlie blames, for surfettes come in haste:
And biddes them feare, their sweete, and dulcet meates,
For oftentimes, the same are deadlie baites”- Geoffrey Whitney


She read the poem through three times before stepping back and trying to make some sense of it. She noticed that it was becoming increasingly difficult to see as the sun sank and her heart picked up it’s pace again as she remembered Bensons bright hair skidding across the pavement.


It seemed certain to her that this was the only way out, and she could not wait any longer. With a deep breath she decided to run. Her feet hit the stone hard and she moved like a flash to the left, her heart growing lighter as the exit grew closer. She reached the hedge and dove forward her head connecting with something hard and a loud cracking sound ringing out through the silence. She felt a trickle of wet run down her nose as she sank to the ground and grabbed her forehead in agony. Her hand came away scarlet and she realized she had been tricked. She felt a sob rise up in her throat that was cut off abruptly by the sound of sheering metal.