Repugnant

Once upon a time there was a young maiden who was imprisoned in a tall, inaccessible tower by a wicked witch. The girl had a magnificent beak of a nose, not unlike her captor’s, only the witch thought the maiden’s nose was much more magnificent than her own, so she imprisoned her to keep her out of sight, and called her Repugnant.

However, Repugnant, no slouch when it came to coping, had a plan. She decided she would drive the witch crazy with her peppiness. She skipped around her circular room, singing Zippity Doo Dah, and other perky songs. She refused to show the old bat how unhappy she was.

One day, as Repugnant was skipping and singing, she turned to go in the other direction, so she wouldn’t get dizzy, tripped on her braid, which had grown down to her feet, and fell flat on her face on the stone floor.

Not having a mirror, she didn’t know until she touched it, that the last half inch of her nose was bent 90 degrees to the left. Zowie! It was so painful, she decided to wait a while before trying to straighten it.

As she waited, not only did her nose set at the 90 degree angle, but it developed a whistle, a high-pitched note that interfered with her singing. Double conundrum! A left-pointing, whistling nose.

Shortly after that unfortunate event, a young lad from the village was walking in the woods when he spied the tower in the distance. He decided to check it out. Upon reaching it, he heard someone singing, with a whistle exactly like his! He had to find out who she was! Stopping at the base of the tower, he called out. “Fair maiden, I heard you singing. Would you  …?”

Before he could finish, she shouted, “Go away!”

The young man was totally abashed, and left.

Two things Repugnant knew. 1. She was not fair with her nose bent at a left angle, and 2. Her once lovely voice had been compromised by her newly acquired nose whistle. She began to be resigned to her fate. She had two strikes against her. Well, three, counting the witch.

In the following days, she tried singing her songs, adjusting as best she could to her whistle. She tried different breathing methods, different meters, holding one side of her nose closed, then the other. She was about to give up, when one day she came up with an interesting sound. She tried it again. Definitely different, but also … rather pleasing. Yes! She was so excited she practiced for hours each day with different tempos, nose-holding exercises, a few me-me-mes, etc., until she had built up quite a repertoire of unique and catchy songs.

Meanwhile, the young man was miserable. He decided he had given up too easily. Not only was his curiosity egging him on, he finally admitted to himself that her voice had tugged at his heart. He had to try again! Determined, he set out, once more, for the tower.  He decided that instead of calling out to her he would sing and show her how they sounded alike. Upon arrival, he heard her singing. He opened his mouth and harmonized with her, whistle and all.

Repugnant couldn’t believe her ears. She raced to the window, leaned out and stared down at the young man. It was still too far to see his features clearly, but that voice! She pulled back, giving the situation some thought.

“Maiden,” he called up to her. “We both have a rather ‘new wave’ sound and I like yours very much. I wish to see you. Could you come down, mayhap?”

Repugnant stood there, vacillating, as he sang another song. New wave, huh? Mayhap? What in the world? She realized she was becoming a bit giddy. Suddenly, she made up her mind. Calling down, she said, “The witch has locked me in, but I am feeling very new wave and will tie my clothes together, and …  and climb down them.”

Tie her clothes together! Climb down! How innovative! How creative and brave, and new wave! he thought. “I eagerly await your arrival,” he said, and promptly seated himself on the ground to watch. But he began to worry. I hope she’s not put off by my nose.

As Repugnant grabbed clothes and began tying them together, she wondered the same thing about her nose, but she was curious, also, about his whistle. And then, of course, there was the business of her name. Her fingers were getting sore, so she took a break and stuck her head back out the window and hollered, “What is your name, sir?”

He hesitated a moment, then stood, and yelled, “Repulsive,” and yours?”

The girl burst into hysterical laughter. “Repugnant!” she shouted. “Give me a minute, he he  he, and I will toss this strange contraption down.”

He had noticed her long braid, and could not imagine calling, “Repugnant, Repugnant, let down your hair.”  Indeed, that would in no way be romantic, though he had to admit, she did have a rather frantic laugh. Maybe she was flustered. He certainly was. The thought occurred to him that later, (if there was a later) he might suggest that they shorten their names to something more acceptable.

The girl called down, again. “Please hold on to the um, rope, to keep it steady.” She had tied one end of it to her floor-length braid as tight as she could and tossed it out the window.

Repulsive was so excited and anxious, he grabbed hold of it but instead of holding it steady, he pulled, and …

Repugnant came flying out of the window. The lad dropped the “rope” and held his arms open wide, briefly having second thoughts.

Arms waving, and nose whistling, she landed in his arms with such force, they both sprawled on the ground. Sitting up, they gazed, a bit stunned, at each other, and smiled.

I don’t believe it, Repugnant thought, grinning broadly, her eyes dancing.  The young man’s nose was bent 90 degrees to the right! And it whistled!

The two young people were so happy to have a soulmate, they married and opened a pub called “The Whistle Stop.” The next thing they did was shorten their names to “Pulsi” and “Pugna.” Singing and whistling as they waited on customers, they introduced their new wave songs, “As the Nose Blows,” and “Wine, Whistle and Song.” They also sang some old standards, “Whistle a Happy Tune,” “Whistle While You Work,” and one of their favorites, Bobby McFerrin’s whistling song which they changed a smidge to suit their situation, “Don’t Worry, Be Sappy.”