Little Red

Day faded into night too fast for Wolf to get home safe.

Thin moonlight fell in shafts through spaces between the trees, casting sharp shadows and ruining his night vision. The air was chilly and Wolf’s bare toes were numb. Hunger had been gnawing a hole in his stomach for hours.

He picked his way through the undergrowth, staring hard at the cold, rough ground. Shadows surrounded him, making him uneasy. He’d spent plenty of time in the forest when it was day, but never at night. His mother always said the shadows in the forest could eat a boy whole.

Wolf swallowed and squared his thin shoulders defiantly. He wasn’t a boy – he was thirteen years and fifty-four days old. Practically a man. Men aren’t afraid of shadows.

Still... it was awfully dark, he thought nervously. An owl hooted behind him and the sharp turn of his head caused him to miss a sneaky root. It caught his foot and he tripped, sliding on the damp, muddy forest floor.

“Ow,” he whimpered, trying not to cry, because men don’t cry. But it hurt so much, and it was cold, so he allowed two tears to escape before wiping them away with dirty hands.

Wolf stopped, and looked around. He couldn’t see the path at all now; he was lost, hopelessly lost. Anxiety churned his stomach as he tried to decide what to do. Eventually, he decided to sit at the base of a large tree, in a hollow created by two huge roots, and sleep.

It took more than one scared, uncomfortable hour, but eventually he slept, curled up against the tree trunk.

The next day he woke to warming air, the smell of damp earth and wood, and bird cries. His right side was aching terribly and his hunger was worse than ever.

Wolf still couldn’t see the path even in daylight, so he resumed his walking, stopping every now and again to attempt to get his bearings. After what felt like hours but was probably only one, he caught a flash of red through a gap in the woods.

He froze, and turned fully in that direction. When only the noise of birds and leaves and soft breathing filled the air he caught it again, this time accompanied by sound. A voice. A girl’s voice.

For a moment he was filled with consternation. His mother told him never to talk to strangers, especially in the forest. But it was a girl. Surely nothing bad could come of it...?

With new energy born of purpose, he began to stride toward the area he spotted the colour in. As he drew closer, he could see it move across his line of vision, meandering without urgent purpose along what must be the path. Soon he was but a line of trees away from the path, and could see it clearly.

Sighing with relief, he stepped out and froze when he saw the origin of the red splashes of colour. It was a cloak, a bright red riding cape, sitting prettily atop the shoulders of a beautiful blonde girl. She was walking along absent-mindedly, plucking the petals from a flower one by one. Wolf was instantly smitten.

She had her back to him, and didn’t see him standing on the path. If he was very quiet, Wolf thought, he would be able to follow the path back and she’d never know he was there.

But... which way?

None of the landmarks he was used to were there. He couldn’t even see the top of the tallest oak tree from where he was standing. He’d found the path, but he was still lost.

At this point the girl glanced back and, seeing him, let out a scream. Wolf realised how awful he must look with his dirty face and clothes. He tried flattening his hair with filthy palms but it didn’t make much of a difference.

She still had her hand over her mouth and her eyes were wide. Slowly, she lowered it and asked, “Who are you? Why are you following me?”

Caught on the spot, Wolf did what his mother told him to do, and bashfully stuttered, “I’m Wolfgang Anthony Albinson the Second. I’m not following you, I promise.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “Wolfgang? Like the composer?”

He nodded vigorously, wondering what a composer was. “S-sorry I startled you, I was just trying to get home, but I don’t know which way to go. I’m lost,” he finished despairingly.

“I suppose I can show you the way back, if you like,” she offered, a little grudgingly. “First I have to visit my grandmother. She lives almost a mile away in a poky cottage outside Little Turvy.”

“I know Little Turvy,” Wolf exclaimed. “Ma took me there once. I bet I still remember the shortcut we took. Want me to show you?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “You got lost. I’ll not follow you.”

Hurt, Wolf frowned. “I swear I remember. I know this forest better than anyone! I bet I could get there before you.”

She smiled at him, but it wasn’t a nice smile. “I’m sure you could. In fact, if you can, I’ll give you a piece of this cake that my mother baked for my grandmother. Her cottage has a brown roof and a red door.”

Salivating at the thought of cake, Wolf agreed readily. “All right. If I get there first, you have to give me cake. Agreed?”

The girl in the red cape nodded sweetly and Wolf took off, down the path, sure he knew the way. The girl, who he had named Red after her cloak, waved and picked up another daisy. She was in no hurry, especially when that Wolf boy was just going to get lost again.

Wolf himself quickly found his bearings and raced along the path, sure that Red was chasing him. At the ringbarked pine tree he turned off the path, remembering a few tips his mother had said. He followed her remembered directions for less than a mile before he found himself on the path again. Red was nowhere to be found.

She must be close, he thought, when in fact she was nowhere near. He trotted along the path until he came to what he thought must have been the cottage. It had a brown roof and a red door. Puffed up with pride that he’d made it, he strode up and knocked on the door, forgetting again how dirty he was.

From inside the house, a thin voice called, “Is that you, Red dear? Just lift the latch and the door will open.”

He wasn’t Red, but he lifted the latch and the door did indeed open. The house was a little cold and the fire was dying. It smelled of mould and age.

“Red?” the voice called again, from a room at the back of the cottage. Wolf followed the sound and found an elderly woman lying in a bed. She squinted at him.

“Who are you? Get out of my house!”

He took a step backward. “I-I’m sorry, Red said if I beat her here she would give me cake, I didn’t mean to come in without permission -”

The old woman began to struggle to get out of the bed and grabbed for her cane. Wolf took another step out the door, proffering apologies and stuttering. Red’s grandmother made it to her feet and lurched toward him, waving her cane. It landed hard on face and arm.

“Ow,” Wolf exclaimed, holding up his arms defensively. "Stop it!" He didn’t want to hurt her, just stop her from hitting him. He grabbed at the cane and his fingers closed around it; before he knew what he was doing he had pulled it away from her, hard.

An expression of surprise crossed the old lady’s face and she began to overbalance. Suddenly scared, Wolf reached out for her, but too late – she fell, and her head hit the hard floor with a loud thunk.

He inhaled sharply and leant down, begging her to wake up. Her eyes remained closed and his heart began to race. Please don’t let her be dead, he begged the heavens. Please.

Red would be coming any minute, he knew. She was going to hate him for killing her grandmother! Panicking, he grabbed at the old woman, trying to find a place to hide her. He dragged her heavy body back into the bedroom and stuffed it painstakingly under the high bed.

“What am I going to do?” he asked out loud, fear making his voice higher than usual. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

He started toward the door but saw out the window first a splash of red on the path. Red can’t know I’m here, he panicked. He raced back into the bedroom and rifled through the drawers. In the top one he found bedclothes just like the old lady was wearing, so he put them on, wiped his face and got into the bed.

After twenty awful seconds, Red knocked on the door. Without waiting for a response, she lifted the latch and walked in.

Wolf considered what he was going to do. Red wasn’t going to stay long, he reasoned. She didn’t look happy about this visit. He would just wait here until she left, and then run away home.

“Grandmother?” she called, setting her basket down on the bench.

Wolf swallowed hard and tried to copy the voice he had heard earlier. “Yes, dear?”

Red appeared in the doorway and Wolf smiled. She was easily the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. She came and stood by the bedside, only paying perfunctory attention to him.

“I brought you cake, and butter,” Red told him, believing he was her grandmother. “It’s on the table in the kitchen.”

Wolf nodded silently, coughing a little. Gosh, he was hungry. Red began to poke around the bedroom, looking in drawers and such. Occasionally, she would pull a small object out and slip it in the pocket of her dress. From the bed it looked like she was stealing, which Wolf knew was wrong. Maybe her grandmother knew she did it.

Eventually she came back and sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you, grandmother?”

Wolf coughed and croaked, “Fine, dear. A little ill, but it will pass.”

She nodded with a small frown and then looked a bit closer into his eyes.

“How clear your eyes are today, grandmother,” she said.

“All - all the better to see you with,” he croaked in answer. She seemed satisfied with this.

“And how good your ears are today!” she exclaimed.

“All the better to hear you with, my dear,” he rasped.

From below him, he felt something move. The old woman must have been stirring. He panicked all over again, fear making him clammy. Red couldn’t find her, she just couldn’t!

Red, though, was looking at his mouth.

“Oh,” she said, “And how clean your teeth are!”

There was definitely movement and he knew it was only seconds before Red would be able to feel it too. He would be found out, he knew it, and everything would be ruined and he’d be in so much trouble... he needed to scare her, to get her away so he could jump up and run away.

“All the better to... to eat you with!” he growled the first thing he could think of as loudly as he could, jumping up violently and dashing toward the door.

Red screamed in shock, high and loud. She fell backwards off the bed as Wolf bounded out into the kitchen. He ripped off the nightgown and cap and threw it to the ground, adrenalin blazing through his veins. All he wanted was to get out, but the door was being stubborn and not opening and what was he going to do –

The wooden door gave way behind his weight. Red was still screaming, words now, and he sprinted out of the cottage. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and tripped. When he regained his feet and started forward again he looked back to see a woodcutter from nearby come running. He ran harder, making it to the edge of the forest and disappearing into the trees. He didn’t stop running until he was halfway along the forest path and nearly home.

Back at the cottage, the woodcutter helped Red find her grandmother and then asked what happened. Tears in her eyes, she started to tell him about the big bad wolf who had tricked her so hatefully...