A Towering Spectacle: A Magical Tale of Love and Freedom
“Oh, Rebecca, are you there? If you are, let down your hair!” came the familiar call from below the high tower window. At once, I let my long, shimmering braid cascade down the stones, almost 77 feet to the ground. Father’s hand appeared, catching the braid, and with a snap of his fingers, he twisted my hair into a neat braid, making it easier to climb. I helped him up the final stretch, and soon he was inside, settling into a chair while I perched on the windowsill. We talked for hours — about magic, about the circus he once led as a ringmaster, about the world beyond my tower. When he asked if I had broken any rules — no calling for help or letting heroes in — I assured him I hadn’t. He believed me, and our conversations drifted into the night before he left again.
My name is Rebecca, though I don’t know my last name. Father has been my guardian since he rescued me from a bear attack when I was a toddler, lost from my real family on a hiking trip. Though his visits came every few days or sometimes once a week, the tower felt lonely and silent when he was gone. Father, a powerful wizard, spun stories of his life as a circus ringmaster, kindling a longing in me to see the magical circus world for myself. Yet he warned me that the world’s corruption threatened the show’s survival.
On my 25th birthday, Father surprised me with a parrot named Patricia and enough food to last a month — he said it would be just as long before he returned with a “special present.” Though I insisted he needn’t go to such lengths, he smiled and promised it would be unforgettable.
That night, after letting Patricia into her cage and unbraiding my hair (a tiring ritual), I stood at the window and whispered a wish to the stars. I asked for a friend to come — someone kind, someone Father would approve of. I hoped for company beyond my feathered companion.
Days passed slowly until I tied a rope to a bunch of Moondrop grapes (my least favorite) and attached the other end to Patricia’s foot, sending her into the nearby woods. To my surprise, Patricia returned at sunset, carrying a note from a man named Matteo Griffith, who lived alone nearby. His words touched me, and soon we began exchanging messages and food parcels, forming a secret friendship.
One evening, after braiding my hair myself and singing a song about my wish for company, I didn’t notice someone tugging at my braid until a young man appeared beside me on the windowsill. Dressed simply in a grey and black vest, white shirt, and black pants, he steadied himself and apologized. But Patricia squawked loudly, “Intruder! Stranger!” and I hurried to cover her cage.
Introducing himself as Matteo, he smiled warmly. I was thrilled to finally meet my letter-writer. We spent hours talking — Matteo confessed he had found courage to visit only after hearing me sing for years. I giggled at his shy nature. He promised to visit every afternoon, leaving before nightfall, and I eagerly welcomed my new friend.
We hatched a plan to fool Father — Matteo would answer Patricia’s questions with the word “Father,” so when the real Father returned, he wouldn’t suspect a thing. It was silly but felt like a secret pact between us.
Each visit grew more joyful. Matteo learned to climb my hair expertly, Patricia warmed to him, and we called each other silly nicknames — “Brownie” and “Romeo.” Yet the dream of seeing a circus, fueled by Father’s stories, seemed distant. How could I leave the tower with my hair so long? Matteo promised one day we would, and that gave me hope.
The night before Father’s return, fear filled me. Matteo wanted to meet him, but I wanted time alone with Father first. We sat quietly on the windowsill, Matteo’s hand soothing my hair. We kissed — a first for me — and though I never wanted him to leave, he slid down my braid into the night.
Morning came with Father’s sudden arrival, shaking me awake. He wasn’t angry about my oversleeping but asked if I kept his rules. Patricia demonstrated her training flawlessly, even saying “Father” when prompted. Father smiled, gave me a necklace with a wishing well pendant, and spoke of making wishes by turning its crank.
But when I told him about Matteo, Father’s face changed. He grabbed my braid and, with a snap, pulled most of it away — leaving me nearly bald. He said he intended to keep me as his ward forever and then sent me away, alone, into a vast desert. Though Father had cared for me, his control was suffocating.
With nothing but a stick, I wandered the desert, searching for clues about my real family. After days of solitude, distant music caught my ear. Following it, I stumbled upon a lively circus — just like the one Father had described.
A kindly gentleman welcomed me to the Dreamscape Circus. Inside, a mysterious woman read my palms and told me, “The answer you seek holds more joy than you expected.” Encouraged, I set out to find my family.
The ringmaster, Lawrence Lancaster, recognized my name and revealed I was his daughter — Rebecca Elizabeth Lancaster. Overcome, I hugged him, tears flowing freely. He welcomed me home.
Lawrence showed me how his circus thrived — with kindness, new acts, and no harm to animals. One day, Patricia flew in with a basket from Father, and I introduced her to my father. Together, we shared meals, stories, and hopes.
Just as I doubted the wishing well pendant’s magic, a knock at the door startled me. Matteo stood there, eyes sparkling with joy. He told of his own encounter with Father — how the wizard had tricked him with my hair but ultimately let him go.
With family reunited and love blossoming, Matteo and I were engaged and later married under the circus’s big top. We visited the tower one last time, where Father greeted us with tears and laughter. He even performed a beautiful solo at our wedding.
Eventually, we tore down the old tower, using its bricks to build a new home — a symbol of freedom, love, and new beginnings. When Lawrence passed, Father joyfully returned as ringmaster, and Matteo and I raised our family surrounded by the magic of the circus.
And yes — we lived happily ever after.
