A workshop writing assignment: You have the chance to be king/queen of a nation for a day. Which country would you choose, and what would you accomplish in that day?

“I am Judalia, Your Highness, your lady-in-waiting. As you requested last night to be awaken, it is 6:30.”

 
Why? was my first waking thought.

 
“Hrrrmmmmmm…what did you say?” I sleepily replied.

 
Who did this young woman say she was? Not to be unkind, but she sure could stand a make-over!

Judalia, my lady-in-waiting calmly repeated, “Queen Mickalene, it is 6:30 in the morning – the time you requested to be wakened.”

My lady-in-waiting? I thought while shaking my head. “Oh, yes. Thank you Judalia; just give me a few minutes to get my blood flowing, please.”

Now why did I mention “blood”?

A few minutes passed before my brain acknowledged this was not a long-ago TV show; this was reality, and not a sound stage.

I had been regally transported to the country of “my choice” after being declared Queen of Transylvania for the next twenty-four hours. Why did I say Transylvania? Why did they take me seriously? Couldn’t they realize I was only joking when I named this country? And, who was it, really, that had awarded this monumental regal trip to me?

The flight had been long and tiring; I hadn’t slept more than five hours after arriving at the castle a little past 12 a.m. this same day.

“Dear God,” I prayed softly under my breath, “let this day pass quickly and safely!”

“Your hot bath is ready, Your Highness,” came the words from Judalia.

“I just had a bath last night…this morning! What? Must my flesh be sterilized…” then quickly cut off my words.

I really must get my head on straight or I’ll never make it through the day.

After dressing, I entered my elaborate sitting-room, Judalia directly behind me. There was a rather large, slender box near the settee, marked with the word “Plasma”.

Needless to say, my stomach did flip-flops as I turned to Judalia and asked, “What is the meaning of this…this box that contains God-only-knows what?”

“Your Highness, this is the new plasma television set that was brought for your viewing convenience - the installers await your command. You can soon watch the early sessions of your Parliament on closed-circuit, if you so desire.”

“Well, I suppose I could do that, but not on an empty stomach. Would it be possible to get some breakfast? Some toast with jam, bacon and eggs, over easy – no blood sausages, please - and a side of pancakes with plenty of butter and syrup would be nice.” I requested.

I’ve always believed you can face challenges better on a full stomach.

“Your wish is my command, Queen Mickalene.” she replied.

Well, now…I could get used to this lifestyle.

Fortified with nourishing food, I was ready to take on the day that loomed ahead. The “plasma” TV (where did it get that name?) droned with voices of the Lords and Counts of Parliament; very boring, until…

“What this country’s economy needs is an influx of tourism. We have a bloody bad image to overcome, and it is up to us here in Parliament to see that this comes about.” These words came from a not-so-boring gentleman in voice and looks, albeit a bit pale of complexion.

Thankfully, the Parliament members were speaking in English; they must know they are being televised…how convenient for me.  Being as curious as a cat, I asked, “Judalia, who is that man speaking now?”

With a school-girl-flittering voice, she replied, “That would be Count Alucard, your Highness; we are to be married soon.”

Did I detect a faint blush to Judalia’s cheeks? This handsome Count her fiancé? She must come from a wealthy family. Oh, how catty you are this morning, Queenie; you need to get out in the fresh air.

“Judalia, would it be possible to have a motor carriage drive us about so that I could visit some of the peop…my subjects?”

“Of course, your Highness; but remember, you will not find any of your subjects able to speak or understand English. Although that would be no problem; I will be glad to translate for you.”

It was a beautiful day: the sky so blue and cloudless; yet, I seemed to detect a gloom in the air. Soon we came upon a field of crops, with many of the…my subjects working.

“Stop here,” I commanded. (I was getting the hang of this Queen bit)

Quickly, Judalia called many of the subjects over to the car. I exited, taking a stand on the convenient running board, which put me a head above the others.

“I am really very proud to be here with you today, seeing you and visiting in your lovely country,” I began. “If there is anything I can help do for you, please let me know.”

Judalia translated, then three or four of the people spoke up at once; in… Romanian? (Is that the language? I wasn’t sure.)

Judalia interpreted for me, “We need people to come visit our country so that our economy will improve. We have much beauty here to offer visitors.”

More conversation and translation pursued for the next twenty minutes:  trivial “thank-you”s and compliments, but definitely pleas to bring tourism to the country.

Surprising me, a young maid stepped forward with a bouquet of wildflowers, picked from the edge of the field. As she handed them to me and I nodded my gratitude, I spied a folded note within the flowers.  The latter I silently slipped into my jacket pocket.

“Your Highness,” Judalia called to me, interrupting my thoughts, “it is time to return to the castle. You will probably want to eat a bite, and rest before readying yourself for the reception and dinner tonight.”

“Reception?” I questioned. “Oh, yes – my formal introduction to the elite.” I uttered under my breath. “I suppose I’ll need another warm bath!”

I swear - by the time I leave here tonight, my freckles will have disappeared from my flesh!

The reception and dinner turned out to be very enjoyable. The “elite” were quite congenial and welcoming, especially the Count. At dinner we had a very nice conversation, as he was seated just to my left; Judalia just to my right. I seemed to be surrounded by condescending subjects.

“One day I hope you will return to us for a longer visit,” the Count was saying. “Of course, Judalia and I leave you with an open invitation, any time you wish. We appreciate friendly, warm-blooded Queens such as you,” he quickly added, with a (sly?) nod and wink to his fiancé.

My 24-hour Queen-ship would soon be coming to an end, with only a need to change into comfortable traveling clothes and drive to the airport, Judalia accompanying me. Fortunately there would be a night’s lay-over in London, before continuing my flight back to the States

“Thank you, Judalia for taking care of me this day. I can honestly tell you I was frightened as to what might happen. You have made my “reign” and visit here enjoyable. I will certainly recommend your country for tourist travel.”

Judalia courteously bowed, turned and walked away. Unbeknownst to me, she smiled widely  – revealing two enlarged cuspids.

Dressing the next morning in my hotel room, I reached into my jacket pocket and found the note that came with the wild-flower bouquet. It read (in English!): “Beware – the Lady lies to you. We DO speak and understand English. The tourism you are requested to bring to our country is not for the economy, it is for the new blood that tourism will bring!”

Before returning to the airport and flight back home (commercial, thankfully), I had my driver take me to the British Embassy; I had an urgent matter to discuss with them, and only them. Two can play this bat-and-mouse game! The Brits will understand better than anyone; after all, this is the country of the noted author Bram Stoker!

© Jackie (Micke) Jinks, April 2005