Thomas Clark
The Healthy Prince by Tom Clark
The Prince was 36, and he was very tired of the castle. He had never left it. He was beginning to think that he never would. Out the sealed window the great city extended past the horizon. The Prince had never seen it from any other angle.
He looked over towards Patrick, his servant. Patrick was sterilizing and shrink-wrapping the Prince's pens.
“Patrick,” said the Prince, “I am tired of the castle.”
“Is that so?” said Patrick.
“Yes,” said the Prince. “I am very tired of the castle.”
Patrick set the pens neatly back into their case, closed the case, and started carefully sterilizing and shrink-wrapping it.
“I think I would like to leave it for once,” said the Prince.
“Is that so?” said Patrick.
“Yes,” said the Prince. “I would like to see the city.”
“Can't see it out the window?” said Patrick, wiping a lamp.
“No, Patrick, I want to be in the city.”
“The castle isn't in the city?”
“I am very lonely, Patrick. I should like to meet a young woman.”
“Oh,” said Patrick. He removed the shade from the base of the lamp and shrink-wrapped them separately.
“Patrick, why are you wrapping all of my things in plastic?”
“Health.”
“Did my father tell you to?”
Patrick nodded. He took the door off its hinges and laid it on the floor. He shrink-wrapped it.
The Prince looked back out the window. The red sun was setting.
“Patrick,” said the Prince, “will you help me leave the castle?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
Patrick lifted the door into place and dropped the pins back in. “I'll come back around eleven,” he said, and left, closing the shrink-wrapped door behind him.
The Prince took dinner alone in his room. He ate fish in a light lemon sauce. He ate rice with seaweed and sliced avocado and asparagus. He drank ice water. He looked around his room. Every plasticked surface shimmered slightly in the lamplight. His reflection in the window was dimly pricked by the lights of the city behind it.
His father the King knocked at the door and entered. He was dressed all in white. He wore a surgical cap and rubber gloves. In one hand he cradled a glass of red wine. He looked around the room.
“This is excellent work,” he said.
The Prince said nothing. He poked at a spear of asparagus.
“It is much safer in here now,” said the King.
The Prince did not respond. His shrink-wrapped tray table was littered with the discarded plastic wrap from his shrink-wrapped cutlery and his shrink-wrapped glass and his shrink-wrapped napkin. The Prince gathered the plastic wrap into a pile and rolled it into a ball. When he dropped it on the table it relaxed with soft, staticky noises into a larger, looser ball.
“There is no reason for you to be despondent. It is perverse to object to improvements in your health and safety.”
“I am tired of improvements in my health and safety,” said the Prince.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Will you take some sorbet? I was just reading that, taken under appropriate circumstances and in the proper mood, sorbet has the most remarkable health-giving effects.”
“No,” said the Prince. “I will absolutely not have any of your sorbet.”
The King looked quizzically down at his son. “What is the matter with you?” he said.
“Nothing,” said the Prince.
“Clearly something is the matter with you. If nothing is the matter with you, take some sorbet.”
“I don’t want any sorbet,” said the Prince.
“Don’t be petulant. Would you like a bowl of fruit?”
“I am tired of fruit.”
“What? Why are you saying these things?”
“I am tired of the castle.”
“Tired of the castle?”
“I want to leave the castle.”
“You can’t leave the castle. Outside the castle is death.”
“I want to leave the castle.”
“Well, you can’t,” said the King. “You might as well put it out of your mind. Finish your dinner.”
The King left, and the Prince swirled his asparagus in its light sauce.
Patrick came back at eleven and handed the Prince a puffy white jumpsuit with a helmet and an oxygen tank. “Put this on,” he said.
“What for?” said the Prince.
“For safety. If you catch anything, the King will have me killed.”
The Prince put on the jumpsuit and the helmet and the oxygen tank. Patrick threw a large cloak over him. “Don’t say anything,” he said.
At the gate, Patrick told the guard that the Prince was an intoxicated cook who needed medical attention. He took out one of the cars to transport the cook to the hospital.
Patrick and the Prince parked the car and walked down a row of dark bungalows. On the front stoop of one of them was a beautiful young woman sitting with a small child. The Prince had seen pictures of women like this in storybooks. He moved towards the stoop.
As the Prince approached, the young woman sent the child inside and looked back at the Prince in wonder and fear.
“Hello,” said the Prince. His voice was muffled and distorted by the helmet. It sounded like he was speaking through a pillow while holding his nose.
The woman said nothing. She stared at the Prince with very wide eyes.
“I have seen your picture in many storybooks,” said the Prince. “I think that I love you.”
The woman’s mouth dropped open.
“Patrick,” said the Prince, “I think that I would like to bring this woman back to the castle with us.”
“Is that so?” said Patrick.
“Patrick, subdue this woman.”
The woman looked at the Prince in horror. Patrick hesitated.
“Patrick, I am in love with this woman. Subdue her and bring her back to the castle with us.”
“Are you sure?” said Patrick.
“Yes, absolutely,” said the Prince. “Subdue her quickly. I am ready to go back home.”
“We could come back,” said Patrick. “We don’t need to take her right now.”
“I love this woman,” said the Prince. “I need to be with her now and for the rest of my life.”
“I think that we might be executed for this,” said Patrick.
“No one will know,” said the Prince. “Please subdue her.”
Patrick wrapped the young woman, who still hadn’t moved, in a sheet. He laid her in the back of the car and covered her with a tarp.
Dinner that night had been a chicken and cashew stir fry. The Prince offered some to the young woman when they returned to the room. She ignored him. He served himself carefully.
“I will tell you a story,” said the Prince. The young woman was slowly turning, looking around the room.
“There was once a young prince,” said the Prince, “who lived in a castle. From his window he could see a second castle, in which there lived a princess. It was the Prince’s one sincere wish that he might one day meet the princess, but he was—“
“This is a very beautiful story,” said the young woman.
“What?” said the Prince.
“This is a very beautiful story. It is very sad.”
“Yes,” said the Prince. “It is very sad.” The Prince bowed his head.
“Why is everything in this room covered in plastic?” the young woman said.
“It is a health initiative,” said the Prince. “My father ordered it.”
“It must be very expensive to coat all of these things in plastic,” said the young woman.
“I imagine,” said the Prince.
The young woman continued to look around the room, at the armchairs and the couches and the canopy bed, at the portraits in their gilded frames, at the rugs and the tapestries.
“These things must have been pretty expensive in the first place,” she said.
“I suppose,” said the Prince. “Would you like me to finish my story?”
“No,” said the young woman. “But it was very beautiful. May I have some food?”
“Of course!” said the prince. “Would you like some of the stir fry?”
“Yes,” said the young woman. The Prince brought her the stir fry. He watched her as she ate it.
“You eat very beautifullly,” he said. The woman did not look up from her plate. She had rice and bits of saucy chicken on her shirt.
“Very gracefully,” said the Prince. “My love.”
“Is the food always this good?” said the young woman.
“I suppose,” said the Prince. “I am not sure that it is always eaten so well, however.” He smiled. The young woman scraped rice into a pile and shoveled it into her mouth.
“Food this good must be expensive,” she said with her mouth full.
“I am not responsible for its purchase,” said the Prince.
“Who buys all this, then?”
“I’m not sure,” said the Prince. “My father, I presume.”
“You must have some money of your own, though,” said the young woman.
“I have very little use for money of my own,” said the Prince.
The young woman set her plate aside and stood. “But you must have some, just the same,” she said.
“Well, no,” said the Prince.
“But you could get some,” said the young woman, stroking the plastic-coated back of a velvet-upholstered armchair.
“I suppose,” said the Prince. “I have never asked for any.”
“I need to go home tonight,” said the young woman. “My son is at home alone.”
“Oh,” said the Prince. “Of course. Patrick will take you.” The Prince pressed a button in the wall. “When will you return?”
“May I take one of these rugs?” said the young woman.
“Certainly,” said the Prince. “I would be honored if you would.”
“How much do you think one of these goes for?”
“I don’t know,” said the Prince.
The young woman bent down and rolled a rug into a tube. Its plastic coating crinkled as she did so. Patrick came in at the door. “Sir?” he said.
“The young lady would like to return home tonight,” said the Prince. “She will be taking this rug with her.”
Patrick looked at the young woman, who was attempting to lift the rug onto her shoulder. “Yes,” he said.
Patrick took the rug from the young woman and opened the door for her.
“I love you,” said the Prince. The young woman looked back over the rug as Patrick closed the door quietly behind him.
The Prince moved to the window and tried to guess which of the millions of lights belonged to the young woman’s home.
The King came into the Prince’s room the next morning and woke him up.
“Why are you still sleeping?” said the King. “It’s almost eleven.”
The Prince squinted at the King. “I was up late,” he said.
“Up late?” said the King. “How late?”
“I’m not sure,” said the Prince. “One or two o’clock, I think.”
“One or two o’clock?” said the King. “Have you any idea what sort of damage that can do to your sleep cycles? What on earth were you doing up so late?”
“Just thinking,” said the Prince.
“Just thinking?” said the King. “What sort of activity is that? What is wrong with you?”
“Father,” said the Prince, “May I have some money?”
“What?” said the King. “What do you need money for?”
“I’m not sure,” said the Prince. “But I would like some.”
“Money is filthy,” said the King, “and it won’t do you any good. You don’t have any use for it. You might as well put it out of your mind.”
“May I have some more rugs, then?” said the Prince.
The King stared at his son. “More rugs?”
“Yes,” said the Prince. “I would like some more rugs.”
“All right,” said the King. “You may have some more rugs. I’ll have Patrick prepare them for you.”
“Thank you,” said the Prince.
“I’ll have him bring in some breakfast, too,” said the King. “You should probably rest this morning. Your sleeping habits are already affecting you.”
“Yes, father,” said the Prince.
Patrick brought the woman back that night.
“Hello, my love,” said the Prince.
“Hello,” said the young woman. “What’s for dinner?”
“Sushi,” said the prince. “Would you like some chopsticks?”
“I’ll use my hands,” said the young woman. She dropped a piece of fish in her mouth. “Did you get any money?”
“I’ve received more rugs,” said the Prince, indicating the rugs, which were piled in a corner.
“But no money?”
“Well, no. But the rugs are very beautiful.”
“Terrific,” said the young woman. She ate two seaweed wraps at the same time. “Do you mind if I go to bed?” she said.
“But you’ve just gotten here!” said the Prince.
“I know,” she said, “but it’s been a long day. I’m exhausted.”
“Oh,” said the Prince. “Will you kiss me once, before you sleep?”
“All right,” said the young woman, and she kissed him on the cheek. The Prince’s whole body shivered.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much.”
The Prince offered the young woman his bed. He slept in the closet. He sat awake for hours listening to the young woman breathe. When he finally settled into a nest of shrink-wrapped clothing to sleep, the Prince could feel himself smiling.
When he awoke, there were voices in the other room. The Prince pushed himself up out of his mound of clothing and opened his closet door. The King and Patrick were standing over the Prince’s bed. The bed appeared to be shimmering slightly.
“—potential for infection,” the King was saying. “This is excellent work, Patrick. You have eliminated a grave danger.”
Patrick nodded slowly.
“You’ll need to remove the whole bed,” said the King. “There’s no way of telling what else in the room could have been contaminated. You’ll have to treat the whole room again.”
“Yes, sir,” said Patrick.
The Prince gasped and fell to the floor. The King looked down at him.
“You,” he said, “Are a fortunate young man.”