Transgendered Fairy Tales
by Kaleigh Way

Once upon a time, a fisherman and his wife lived in a shanty by the sea. They were poor as poor could be, and worse still, they were very unhappy.

In its day, the shanty had served as a snug little home, but age and neglect had taken their toll. The fisherman had once been a strong, good-looking boy, lively and as ruddy as an apple. Now he looked old beyond his years, and he always looked sad. His wife — at least, to hear her tell it — had once been the prettiest girl in the town.

Did I say that the fisherman always looked sad? It isn't so. There was one moment in the day when he smiled and felt like himself again. You see, a fisherman has to rise in the night and ply his boat in the dark to the deep water, because the best fish are caught early in the day. Day in, day out, our fisherman would look east and watch the sun peek above the water, and every day the dawn was different.

This was the moment each day when he smiled.

The fisherman was called Peppino, and his wife was named Adolorata. He was a kind and gentle soul, as good as good can be. But his wife... well.

Maybe, once upon a time, she had been the prettiest girl in town, but no one was old enough to remember that far back. Peppino thought he was the luckiest man alive when she agreed to be his wife, but that quickly changed. Once they began to live together, nothing was good enough for her. The house was old and smelled of fish. There was no money, and she never had a new dress or a single pair of shoes. He (according to her) was a lazy, good-for-nothing, and she didn't believe for a moment that he went fishing every morning. It was plain to see, she declared, that nine times out of ten he was off sleeping somewhere, laughing behind her back, and drinking away whatever money they had.

What money? Peppino asked himself. He once dared to ask it out loud, and got a frying pan in the head by way of response.

After years of this, Peppino changed. His happy boyhood self was gone, nearly extinguished. He did work hard, and if sometimes – maybe often – he came home without a single fish, it was not for dint of trying.

One day the dawn had come and gone, and the sun climbed high in the sky. It was nearly time to head home – past time, even! – but Peppino hadn't caught a single fish. Not even a tiny one. He thought about staying in the boat, not returning home. What difference did it make anyway? When suddenly, he felt a tug on the line.

He hauled the fish into the boat. It was a nice-sized fellow. For Peppino and his wife, it would be a feast! But as soon as he pulled the hook out of its cheek, the fish opened its mouth and spoke.

"Throw me back!" it gasped, "I can't breathe!"

Startled, Peppino dropped the fish to the deck, but when the fish repeated its desperate pleas, he gently lifted it and set it back in the sea.

"Thank you, good fisherman," the fish politely said, as soon as it recovered its breath.

"Excuse me for hooking you, good – uh, sir," the fisherman replied. "Can you tell me, do all fish speak?"

"No," the fish replied. "Not at all. But I'm not a fish, you see. I'm a magical being. I say, good fellow, do you have any more of that bait lying about? I'm famished. I was so done in by hunger that I bit at your worm without thinking."

"Certainly," the fisherman said, spreading some bugs and worms in the water. "It doesn't seem to fool the fish any more."

"They're swimming in the deep," the magical fish replied. "You won't catch them with your short line."

"Hmm," Peppino said. "Just my luck."

The fish ate his fill, and politely gave his thanks. He advised the fisherman to head for shore; he'd catch no fish today.

"I'm not in a hurry to get home," Peppino said, "If you don't mind, I'd much rather stay and chat with you."

"Fine," the fish replied, "but could you scoop me up in a bucket, and set me in your boat? It hurts my neck to look up at you this way."

So Peppino scooped up the fish and set him in his boat. Slowly he rowed home, and as he rowed, he and the fish chatted away like two old friends. Peppino told the fish about his wife and his bad luck, and the fish told him all about life under the sea. Soon enough, they reached the shore, and the fisherman gently restored the fish to the sea once more.

"I've enjoyed our chat," the fish said. "Any time you feel like talking, come to the shore and call my name. And don't worry about your luck, Peppino. It's changed for the good. You'll see!"

"What is your name?" Peppino inquired, and the fish responded with a long, unpronounceable sound.

"Do you have a nickname?" Peppino asked.

The fish replied drily, "How about 'Fishy'?"

Peppino walked home as if he were dancing on clouds. It had been a long time since he'd had a bit of friendly conversation, and the fish's insights into the undersea world helped Peppino understand why he wasn't catching any fish. Just wait until tomorrow morning, and see what fish he'd catch!

Adolorata threw a pot at his head when he walked in the door, and accused him of living a double life. "You're off galvanting with some young chicken! I know you, you old reprobate!" and she burst into tears. Peppino shook his head, and after several hours, managed to convince her of the truth.

"A magical being?" she asked for the hundredth time.

"Yes!" Peppino replied.

Adolorata considered this for a while, and then gave her husband a mighty slap on the ear. "You jackass!" She shouted. "You let him go!? He could have granted us our hearts' desires! Go back down there and ask that idiot of a fish to turn this home into a palace, full of beautiful clothes, servants, gold and silver, with me as its queen."

"I don't know..." Peppino began, but she cut him off with another clout and shoved him roughly out the door.

Peppino walked slowly to the sea. He was happy enough with the fish's friendship, and was plainly embarrassed when Fishy came swimming toward him.

"Hello, Peppino. What can I do for you?"

Peppino apologized profusely, and repeated his wife's request.

"Don't worry, Peppino," the fish replied. "It will all be fine in the end. You'll see! Don't worry! Didn't I tell you that your luck had changed? Go back home and tell your wife that the pair of you have three wishes. No more, and no less."

"Do we have to come down here to tell you what they are?"

"No," he said. "All you need to do is speak your wish out loud."

"Me? or my wife?"

"Either of you," the fish replied, a little impatiently. "And listen, after that I have to go. I'm sorry, but you won't see me again."

"That's sad news," Peppino replied. "I enjoy your company."

"You'll be fine," the fish told him, and swam away forever.

Peppino walked back to the shanty, where his wife stood at the door waiting. "You fool!" she cried. "He wasn't a magical fish at all, was he?" and chucked a pot at his head. Again, it took time and patience, but Peppino got her to understand about the wishes. Her face took on a greedy, crafty look and she said, "Careful now! Don't say a word! We must use the wishes wisely – which means that I must decide."

She went inside, and sat at the table with a sheet of paper and a bit of pencil.

Peppino's stomach rumbled. "Couldn't we do this after dinner? I'm half-starved."

Adolorata gestured to the stove, where yesterday's porridge sat, cold and hard. He scooped himself a bowl, then broke off a bit of old bread. He dipped the bread in water to soften it, and sighed. "I wish we could have a decent dinner for once."

Paff! The table was instantly filled with abundant, nourishing food. There was fresh bread and rolls, a pitcher of wine and one of beer, roast chicken, potatoes, yams, beef, ... The table groaned under the weight. Adolorata shrieked.

"You fool! You idiot!" she cried. "You've wasted a wish! Didn't I tell you to keep your mouth shut? You don't have the sense of a two-year-old!"

She very nearly wished the food away, but caught herself. With her hand on her mouth, she considered. Perhaps it would be better to let the fool eat, she thought. At least if his mouth is full, he won't do any more wishing! So she took Peppino by the hand, sat him at the table, and said, "Eat! Enjoy yourself! Fill your mouth with good things!" And so he did. Everything was delicious, and Peppino felt happier than he had in years. He didn't lament the lost wish. He'd try to be careful to leave the other wishes to his wife. After all, what did he want from life? A little peace, a little food, a dry place to sleep... Right now, Peppino was happy. Life was about as good as it could get.

Adolorata, in the meantime, worked out a single wish that covered pretty much everything she wanted. She realized that a palace was a foolish wish; she was glad the fish hadn't granted it! What she wanted was this: A pretty, well-built house, full of new and comfortable furniture, with a well of sweet water out back, in a garden full of vegetables and fruit trees, and upstairs, in her bedroom closet, lots of fine clothes and shoes, and a little casket of gold coins. Once she made that wish, she could look things over and then decide how to use the last precious wish.

She wished her big wish, and Paff! the house changed around them. It was now the lightest, cleanest, newest house you could imagine, full of the best and most comfortable furniture. There were curtains on the windows, and a mat outside the door. Adolorata ran into the back garden, where she ate an apple from her apple tree and drank a dipper of sweet water from her well. Then she ran upstairs. There was a beautiful bed, rugs on the floor, and pictures on the walls.

She opened the closet, and smelled the new shoes and clothes. There her joy ended. The shoes were too small for her feet, and the clothes were too small for her body! Was this the fish's idea of a joke?

She very nearly wished that the fish was there, so she could give him a piece of her mind, but again she caught herself in time. She put her hand over her mouth and considered once again. After all, it was nearly perfect, and she still had one wish left, didn't she? And look at the casket! It was bigger than she intended, and it was chock full of gold coins – so full she couldn't budge it! Why, just one of those coins could buy more clothes and shoes than she'd had in her life!

Adolorata returned to the kitchen. She needed to think. It would probably be best to tie a gag on Peppino until the last wish was wished, to keep him from wishing for something stupid again. The idiot! Perhaps she could wish him away... and wish for a handsome young man in his place...

In fact, when she reached he bottom of the stairs, she could see that the only thing out of place in her new beautiful house was Peppino. There he sat: barefoot, dirty, in his old smelly clothes, slobbering like a pig, eating as if he'd never eaten before — at least, that's how Adolorata saw him. She was disgusted!

To be fair, Peppino did smell of fish and the sea, but he was very clean. He bathed each day, and shaved each morning. His clothes were shabby but neat. Peppino washed them himself, and kept them mended.

Adolorata stared at him angrily. In part, she was angry with herself. Her carefully crafted wish had exhausted her desires. She didn't know what to wish for next, but she wanted to keep the wish for herself. She looked around the kitchen, and found a rag to stuff in Peppino's mouth, and a long cloth to tie around his head. He watched her, but had no idea what she was up to. Perhaps she wanted to clean something? Several times he opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. He stuffed a roll in his mouth to keep from talking, but when she approached him, he forgot himself and washed the bolt of bread down his throat with a glass of wine.

"The house is beautiful, dear," he said. "You wished well."

"Be quiet!" she shouted. "I won't have you waste the last wish! You good-for-nothing! Do you know that you're the idiot of the village? Why can't you think for once? You should have told the fish that you wanted six wishes! Or given all three wishes to me! Wishes are wasted on you! All you want is a warm meal and a dry bed!"

"... and a little peace," he added, wistfully.

"You're soft!" she cried. "You're not even a real man! I'm the one who's always had to take the reins and make the decisions. Anyone can see! Our lives would have been so much better if I was the man, and you were the woman!"

"That's close enough to a wish," the magical fish told himself. He was a little tired of waiting, so Paff! Adolorata suddenly found herself wearing Peppino's clothes, and looking and sounding exactly like Peppino in every detail. And there, at the table, sat an adorably cute young woman, dressed in one of the clean new cotton dresses from the upstairs closet, and wearing a pair of the nice leather shoes that had been too small for Adolorata.

Peppino – or perhaps we should call her Peppina – leaped to her feet and stared down at her new body. She felt so light, so healthy, so new and clean and free! Adolorata – or rather, Adolorato – looked at himself in a mirror and filled with rage! "I wish I was like before!" she shouted. "I wish that damn fish would choke! I wish I was the prettiest girl in the village! I wish... I wish..." but nothing happened. Nothing changed. It was too late. It was quite clear that all the wishes were gone.

"YOU!" Adolorato shouted at Peppina. "You wished for this, you swine! So you wanted to be a girl, did you? I'll show you, then, when I take a whip to your behind!"

Peppina had only been a girl for a few moments, but she quickly realized that the old fisherman was much stronger than she, and that her only hope was to run away. After a few turns around the table, she managed to dash out the front door, where some of the townsfolk happened to be passing by. They paused to see what all the noise was about. What they saw was a young, pretty girl being chased by Peppino, who was beside himself with rage.

The constable's son, a strong, good-looking boy, put his arms around the girl to protect her, while the others tried to calm the shouting fisherman. But there was no calming Adolorato. Between furious shouts and threats, he explained that the "girl" was actually Peppino, while he was Adolorata; that a magical fish had transformed them both and was now the ruin of her.

Of course, none of this made any sense to the townspeople, and Peppina wisely kept silent. One of the cagier fellows gave Adolorato a clout on the head when he wasn't looking, and they bound him with ropes and took him and Peppina before the judge.

The townspeople weren't stupid. They knew how to put two and two together, and it was clear what had happened: Peppino had killed Adolorata – you could hardly blame him, but murder is murder, even in a fairy tale. And then he'd taken a cute foreign bride – the poor thing couldn't speak a word of English! Obviously, the chest full of gold was her dowry. It was all just as plain as day – there could be no other explanation.

Some gossips maintained that Peppino had kidnapped the pretty young girl – why on earth would such a lovely, budding young thing marry such a decrepit old man? But more judicious minds cautioned against jumping to conclusions.

Peppina returned to live in her house by the sea. She liked her pretty new clothes and her neat little garden. Every day the constable's son came to give her English lessons. Somehow the lessons involved gazing into her eyes and holding her small, soft hands, and each day Peppina pretended to learn a few more words until, after a month or so, she could speak almost as well as any townsperson, but – as everyone said – she never lost her exotic accent.

Adolorato spent his remaining years at forced labor. He cursed the magical fish with every breath he took.

Eventually Peppina and the constable's son married. She bore him four beautiful children, two girls and two boys. And they all lived happily ever after.

© 2007 by Kaleigh Way