About as different from that awful movie as it’s possible to get. In this first explanation of Barbara Roberts, she is a high school freshman, with only the most innocent, girly things to worry about, set in an idyllic America-of-the-past lifestyle. For her first meeting with Ken, he gets to save her day, and she wears flats.
Honestly, this restored some of my affection for Barbie.
This is the first story of the seven that you can read on archive.org.
Chapter One
The history of a friendship, like any good story, must have a beginning, and a middle, before you reach the happy ending. This story is about the beginning. It could start, “Once-upon-a-time, before Barbie knew Ken” because it partly concerns a fairytale princess and prince. But mostly it tells how Barbic met Ken, and this is just about how it happened.
Once upon a time, when Barbie was a new freshman in the big high school in a new town, she sat down at the breakfast table one cold February morning and sighed into her glass of orange juice.
“Come now, Barbie,” said her father, “things can’t be that bad so early in the morning.”
“Things are horrible,” answered Barbie glumly. “They couldn’t be worse. I wish we had never moved to this horrible town.” She crunched down vigorously on a piece of toast.
Her mother broke in, her voice gentle. “I thought you were beginning to get used to the town – and you said the high school was very nice.”
“It is nice, but oh, how I miss my friends! I’m such a stranger here.”
“It’s too bad you had to transfer in the middle of the school year,” said her father, “but give it time. We’re lived here just a week. You know,” he added, “it meant an
important promotion for me when my company transferred me here. I’m sorry it was so sudden, but the change will be good for all of us, you’ll see.”
“I know that, Dad, and I’m really not complaining,” Barbie answered. “But, well, tonight’s the first important school dance of the semester, and I won’t know a soul there!” Her blonde ponytail quivered as she shook her head sadly.
“So that’s it!” exclaimed her mother. “But Barbie, you do know someone. You’re going with Midge. I thought you liked her so much. You were so glad that she was your neighbor and that you could walk to school together every day. Besides,” continued her mother, “your costume is lovely. I know you’ll look your best and have a wonderful time!”
“Mother,” wailed Barbie, “it’s a Valentine dance and I’m nobody’s Valentine!”
“It’s also a Freshman Mixer,’ said Barbie’s mother, in that sensible way that’s special to mothers. “There’ll be many boys and girls who want to make new friends.”
“But Mother, we’re all supposed to come as part of a pair of Famous Romantic Couples and there won’t be any other half there for me!”
“You’re going as Cinderella. Remember, she went alone to the ball.”
“Times have changed,” muttered Barbie.
“Not that much,” said her father. “You know, my little cinder girl, the only trouble with you is that you have a case of stage fright. Moving to this town is like a new act in your life and tonight you’re facing your audience. But all you have to do is be yourself and you’ll be fine!”
“I hope so, Dad!”
There was a call from outside the window. “Barbie! Are you ready?”
“There’s Midge,” said Barbie’s mother. “You’d better hurry or you’ll be late for school. And,” she added, “I’ll have a special surprise for you when you get home. Something for the dance.”
“Oh,” said Barbie, “you’re both dears. I will have a good time, I know.” She blew a kiss at her parents as she dashed out the door.
“It’s nice of your parents to take us to the dance tonight,” said Midge as they walked along the snowy streets. “Wait till you see my costume – I’m going for it right after school. I’m Pocahontas, with beaded moccasins and a red feather in my hair and everything! Bob Williams will meet us at the entrance, and he’ll be dressed as Captain John Smith. What fun!”
“That’s great, Midge,” answered Barbie warmly, looking at the small, rosy-cheeked girl who walked beside her. “You two do seem to have fun together.” Midge nodded, her curly brown hair bobbing in the wind. “Bob’s nice. There’s a whole crowd of us that go around together and do a lot of things.” She turned to Barbie and smiled. “Of course, you’re one of us now, too, Barbie. I’ll introduce you to everybody tonight!”
Barbie’s blue eyes sparkled. “Midge, I’m glad we’re going to be friends!”
The two girls, one a round berry of a girl, the other slender and fair, smiled at each other, then hurried down the windy street to school.
* * *
The school hours passed quickly. Barbie noticed that it was easier today to find her way through the corridors of the big high school, and that faces and names were becoming familiar. Now there were classmates who said hello as they passed her in the halls. Others included her in their lunch group. Barbie realized suddenly that she was beginning to look forward to the night.
Though it still feels strange, sighed Barbie as she walked home after school, passing the Pop Shoppe with its tables crowded with laughing, talking boys and girls. She thought of her mother’s surprise and her naturally high spirits rose again. It will be all right, she insisted, and walked on quickly toward home.
* * *
In the dark, chilly evening, the lights from the high school gymnasium blazed with a warm invitation as Barbie’s father stopped his car at the school entrance. He stepped out, opened the rear door of the cat with a flourish of his hand and a low bow and said, “Princess Pocahontas and Cinderella, your coachman awaits your pleasure!”
The two girls giggled as they left the car. Midge looked the very model of an Indian princess, and Barbie was resplendent in white satin, her ponytail bound up in silver ribbon.
“My,” said Barbie’s mother from the depths of the car, “I never dreamed my old evening gown would remodel so beautifully. I feel like a fairy godmother!”
“This is really where you waved your wand, Mother,” said Barbie, lifting up the hem of her gown. There was the shine of white satin at her feet as she showed her slippers with their slim, graceful little heels.
“I’m glad you liked my surprise, Barbie,” said her mother. “Just be careful when you walk. You’re not used to long gowns.”
“Oh, I’ve been practicing all afternoon. See!” And Barbie whirled around, her satin gown and slippers gleaming as they caught the moonlight.
“You do look like a princess!” exclaimed her father with pride. “But, look here, Cinderella, what time does the ball end?”
“Half-past eleven,” said Midge, looking excitedly at the lighted building.
“That’s fine,” said Barbie’s father. “The theater lets out at just the right time. We’ll be back here for you after the show.”
“Have a good time, girls,” called Barbie’s mother, as the two friends started up the school steps.
“We will,” replied Midge.
“We will,” repeated Barbie, ignoring the slight flutter at her stomach. As the two girls approached the top of the stairs, the sounds of music and laughter grew louder. They heard the car leave the driveway.
The freckled face of Captain John Smith broke into a grin as he caught sight of Pocahontas. Well, said Barbie to herself, hearing Midge’s happy laugh in return, I hope my Prince Charming doesn’t take too long in finding me!
“Hi, Midge, you look great,” said Captain Bob John Smith Williams. He saw Barbie and stopped, whistling in admiration. “Gee, Barbie, the scenery in town has really improved since you moved here! Wait till the stag line sees you.”
Barbie felt herself blushing, but Midge nudged her arm, like a proud mother hen pushing her chick forward. “I’m going to comb my hair, Barbie. Why don’t you dance this first dance with Bob?”
Barbie smiled at her gratefully as Bob said, “My pleasure,” and Midge waved her hand gaily and walked off.
Cinderella and Captain Smith entered the gymnasium, which was quite changed since Barbie had seen it that morning. Great red Valentine cutouts almost covered the high windows. Red and white streamers were looped from the basket at one end of the basketball court to the ceiling lights and to the basket at the other end. Napoleon and Josephine stood talking to Romeo and Juliet while Cleopatra waltzed by in Julius Caesar’s arms.
“Look at the fellows look at you,” whispered Bob as he took Barbie’s arm. “I’ll be lucky if we dance two steps before someone cuts in!”
“Midge says you’re wonderful dancer,” said Barbie, feeling her heart beat a little faster at the opening bars of “Stardust.” Oh, it’s going to be a wonderful evening, she thought, and I could dance all night.
Bob guided them toward the stag line. Barbie’s long shire gown floating behind her as they moved with the music. “Let me show you off,” said Bob, and he whirled her around.
The step was a little too fast, and Barbie’s head too high in the clouds. Disaster! Barbie’s heel caught in the hem of the heavy satin and down she fell, hard, with Bob sprawled in a heap beside her. There was a burst of surprised laughter from the boys behind them and Barbie felt her face flaming.
“Okay, you guys, knock it off,” growled Bob, picking himself up from the floor. “Are you all right, Barbie? I shouldn’t have tried that new step till I knew it.”
Two boys rushed forward to help, but Barbie still sat on the floor in misery. “I think my heel is broken,” she whispered to Bob. To herself she said, they laughed as me.
“I’ll take care of her,” said Bob to the rescue crew. With his help Barbie stood up and then limped off to a corner holding onto his arm. The music played on, but Barbie heard only an echo of laughter.
She saw Midge rush over. “Barbie, are you all right?”
“It was my fault,” insisted Bob miserably.
“Oh, no,” said Barbie. “I should have been more careful with my dress. I’m all right, Bob,” she continued, managing a smile. “Just let me sit here and catch my breath”.
Midge’s eyes were worried. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Of course. My heel is broken, but that’s all.” Except for my heart, she added silently.
“We could go home and get you another pair of shoes,” Bob volunteered.
“It’s no use,” said Barbie. “My parents aren’t home and I didn’t take a key.”
Midge silently measured Barbie’s slim foot. “I can tell that my shoes wouldn’t fit,” she sighed.
“Oh Midge,” and Barbie laughed, “I’ll be fine sitting here. Go off and dance – you can wave at me when you pass by.” Oh dear, thought Barbie in misery, and it’s just the start of the evening!
“Well…” said Midge slowly.
“I’ll send over company,” added Bob. “I’ve got a friend…”
“Oh, no,” answered Barbie hastily. “I mean, I enjoy just listening to the music.”
“All right,” said Bob, looking slightly puzzled. He tapped Midge’s shoulder. “Pocanontas, may I have this war dance?”
“Ugh!” said Pocahontas. He took her arm, and lightly they danced away.
Barbie watched from her corner, knowing that her cheeks were still hot and flushed while, strangely, her hands had grown cold. New act in my life, she thought, but the leading lady fell flat on her face! And I wanted so much to make a good impression!
Unconsciously she frowned and, biting her lip, looked up to see a tall blond boy walking in her direction. He wore the costume of an olden time prince and carried a dashing hat with a sweep of plume trailing from it. But Barbie ignored the pleasant face and, remembering the laughter, saw only one of the Horrible Boys from This Horrible Town. The frown became as cold a glare as Barbie could manage. The boy hesitated, stopped, looked again, then shrugged and walked away. They’re all so mean, said Barbie to herself, rather unfairly. And she huddled in her corner, sinking deeper in misery, and thinking, I wish, I wish I could go home!
The music played on and on, in a lively tempo, but the hands on the big gym clock moved with terrible slowness. For Midge and Bob, on their frequent visits, Barbic smiled and laughed. But to any brave boy who wandered to her side, her answer was short. *I don’t dance,” snapped Barbie, and the boy would retreat. Not with you, she’d say to herself, not with anyone who’d laugh at me.
And yet, and yet, the tall blond prince still hovered nearby. Barbie could see him out of the corner of her eye, and she’d quickly turn her head away. Why doesn’t he leave me alone? Unless be pities me for being so clumsy and looking so silly. If I could walk without hopping I’d go to the powder room. But she couldn’t, with her broken heel, so she sat frozen to the spot.
Oh! Oh! The boy was coming near, and his firm steps told her he was not going to walk away this time.
“I was wondering,” said the boy, towering high over her chair, “why the prettiest girl at the dance won’t dance with anyone.”
“Oh,” said Barbie, her manner airy, “I just don’t feel like dancing right now!” Is it possible he doesn’t know?
“Well, then, mystery woman, if you don’t mind, I’ll sit with you.” With a sweep of his dashing plumed hat he introduced himself, made a courtly bow, and sat beside her.
“Are you a famous princess?” asked Ken (for it was he), looking at the regal white gown and the silver ribbons in her shining blonde hair.
Barbie smiled hesitantly. “I’m Cinderella.”
Ken looked delighted. “It’s about time we met each other. Prince Charming, at your service!” Barbie stared at him suspiciously. Are you really?”
Ken’s smile came easily. “Well, I usually don’t wear this outfit to football practice, but I was dope enough to leave my costume to my mother, and this is what she came up with!” He grinned, making the story of the costume seem like a good joke for the two of them to share.
Barbie, forgetting that she was miserable and he was Horrible, laughed in amused sympathy.
“Well,” said Ken, “that’s better! That’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh all evening.” And he blushed. “I don’t mean I was watching you all the time. I mean – oh, well, I was watching you!”
Barbie made a face. “Then you must have seen my graceful entrance.” Somehow it wasn’t so bad talking about it to him.
“Your entrance?” Ken looked puzzled, “No, I came a little late. I saw you sitting in the corner and I decided I wanted to find out who you were. You weren’t very encouraging,” he added bluntly.
He was too honest for her to continue hiding her hurt pride.
“I broke the heel of my slipper. I fell – and made a fool of myself!” She hadn’t meant to say that last part.
Ken looked relieved. “So that’s why you didn’t dance! Your slipper broke.” Then he said anxiously, “You didn’t hurt your ankle?”
The misery came back. Barbie lowered her head. “No, not that. But everyone laughed, I was so embarrassed.”
Ken looked at her closely. When he spoke his voice was kind. “Well, if all you hurt was your dignity, that’s not so bad.” He paused and thought. “Cinderella with a broken slipper.” He looked at her with amusement, then remembered and made a desperate effort to be solemn. Barbie saw the quick change of face, and that brought out her own smile.
“Please laugh if you want to,” she said. “I imagine it did look funny. I wonder whatever happened to my sense of humor.”
“I suppose,” said Ken, “that princesses are expected to be perfect and very proud. I think I’d have liked Cinderella before she became princess. I like a down-to-earth girl.” He stared very directly at Barbie, and she found her face growing warm again. This time it was surprisingly pleasant.
“I’m very down-to-earth,” she said. “I don’t even have a shoe.”
He frowned. “We’ll have to do something about that. This music is too good to waste.”
“It’s hopeless,” sighed Barbie. “I can’t dance around the gym on one heel.”
“Gym!” exclaimed Ken. “That’s it! Don’t you have gym sneakers in your locker?”
“Sneakers?” Barbie looked horrified.
“Sure. That way you can dance.”
“But I’d look so foolish.”
“Not to me,” said Ken sternly. “And I’m more important than a broken slipper.” He stopped. “At least, I hope I am.”
Barbie looked at him helplessly, then she laughed. “Yes, you are. And thank you for reminding me.”
Ken offered his arm. “Okay, Cinderella Take off that broken old glass slipper and let’s find your locker.”
Barbie rose and, with just the slightest suggestion of a limp, walked grandly to the door, holding onto Ken’s arm.
* * *
The music lovely, and she could dance all night, thought Barbie as she whirled around the floor in Ken’s arms. She felt light, so light. It must be those bouncy rubber soles, she said to herself, and giggled inwardly.
“Why are you smiling?” asked Ken.
“I never knew that magic slippers were made out of canvas. Is anyone staring?”
“They all are,” said Ken. “Every fellow is looking at you – and envying me.”
“I was so nasty. You were very brave.”
“I’m a glutton for a damsel in distress.”
They looked at each other, then danced silently for a moment. The light overhead blinked.
“Oh, oh!” said Ken. “The ball is over!”
They stopped and slowly began to walk off the dance floor.
“Barbie.” It was Midge’s voice, and there was a strong note of relief in it. She and Bob hurried over. “I’ve been looking for you. Oh, Ken – I didn’t know you two knew each other!”
“He found my glass slipper,” said Barbie, in decidedly giddy voice.
“What?” said Midge.
“Look!” Barbie lifted her gown to show two very un-elegant gym sneakers.
Midge gasped. “You mean you’ve been dancing like that all evening?”
Barbie and Ken smiled at each other, Cinderella and Prince Charming to the very life.
“Of course,” said Barbie, with a perfectly straight face. “It’s the only kind of glass slippers I ever wear.”
The lights overhead blinked again. Barbie glanced at the big gym clock.
“Midge! It’s after eleven-thirty. My parents will be waiting downstairs in the cold!” She turned anxiously toward the door.
“Hold it, princess, hold it.” Ken took her arm and drew her aside. “Either leave me your sneaker, like a good Cinderella, or your phone number. I’d rather have the phone number”
Barbie’s eyes twinkled. “I never thought you’d ask.”
Ken looked reproachful. “You know I’ve been wearing my heart on my sleeve all evening, and not just because it’s Valentine’s Day.”
“That’s right. It is nearly Valentine’s Day!”
“Every day from now on.”
I guess there’s more to a magic evening than glass slippers, thought Barbie. What it really took to make it magical for me was a good shaking up!
She smiled happily. “Good night, Ken!”
“Good night, Barbie – and hello!
