Twisted Tales

We took the southern road out of town, which meant we had to cross right through the middle of the village.

It had been more than a little awkward, since I was painfully aware of how many stares we got from everyone we passed in the street—some curious, others openly hostile. I alternated between attempting falsely cheery waves, and just keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact; but Erik hardly seemed to notice the attention at all.

However, I couldn’t help but notice that the moment we cleared the town proper and were back out into open farmland, the swift pace of his hobble abruptly decreased dramatically.

He was breathing a bit heavily, and I asked him with some concern if he wanted to sit down for a moment.

“No,” he grunted, his expression unyielding. “It’s almost all farmland from here to Kingsbury, but the forest cuts right through the land about halfway between. There’s only one wayhouse along the road about an hour’s walk into the forest, and if we don’t get there by nightfall, we’ll be spending another night sleeping outside, in the woods, at the mercy of whatever wild animals are in the neighborhood.” He glanced over at me, and his expression wasn’t exactly flattering. “I can take care of myself, but so far you’ve managed to get chased by wolves, killed a gnome, and doomed a peasant girl while left unsupervised in the woods. I think it would be best for everyone if we got to the wayhouse before dark.”

I briefly considered kicking his walking stick out from under him, but that seemed a little too mean.

Instead I focused on doing calculations in my head. It was mid August, and the sun didn’t set until a little after eight in the evening. It was maybe noon now, which meant that we had an…

Eight hour walk ahead of us. In order to get halfway to Kingsbury.

The sun was high in the sky, and the dark, green, cool forest had given way to flat yellow farmland that stretched all the way to the horizon on either side of the dusty road. A few straggly trees grew along the path’s edge, but they offered little shade from the blistering heat of the August sun.

This was going to be a long walk.
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We stopped at about three in the afternoon—at least, that was my best guess of the time based on the position of the sun—to sit on the side of the road, rest our aching feet, and eat a little bit of the bread and cheese Erik had stuffed into his rucksack before we’d been forced to flee from the attacking giant.

The bread was stale and the cheese was pungent, and the new shoes Jack had provided me with were actually more painful than my shitty converse had been. They offered more arch support sure, but when I peeled them off to inspect the damage, I saw that I already had about five blisters between both feet. It so wasn’t worth blending in, so I pulled out my old shoes and put those on instead, stuffing the clunky leather ones on top of the red riding cloak, that was in turn stuffed on top of The Book and the rest of my old clothes. I needed more than a little elbow grease to get the zipper to close again over the bulging contents.

Erik watched me throughout this little drama of mine, chewing a rock-like hunk of bread and eyeing my shoes with some interest.

“Where did you say you were from again?” he asked suddenly.

I started guiltily. “Uh… I didn’t. Why?”

He gestured to my canvas sneakers. “Those are unusual shoes. They’re made largely of cloth? Canvas? That doesn’t seem very practical.”

“They’re fine in a town,” I defend them, though they were looking a little worse for wear after my recent misadventures, “where you don’t have to worry about stepping in mud and water and running around like Hansel and freaking Gretel in a forest for hours at a time.”

“All of that is exactly what you’ve been doing.”

“I know that,” I snapped back. “But the other ones hurt; they’re giving me blisters. I can’t wear them for this entire walk. I’d rather go barefoot.”

Erik shoved the last bit of crust into his mouth and shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you a proper pair of walking boots once we get into Kingsbury,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs.

I raised my eyebrows, surprised by this sudden display of generosity. “Really?”

“I’ll just tack on the cost to everything you already owe me.”

“Hey, we’re pretty much even now! Neither of us would even be here right now if it weren’t for your giant-”

“It wasn’t my giant; I didn’t invite the blasted thing over-”

Our bickering was prevented from erupting into an all out argument by a sweaty, panting figure abruptly appearing around the bend in the road behind us, from the direction of the town we had come from.

Erik’s mouth dropped open. “What are you doing here?” He looked at me accusingly. “What is he doing here?”

“Jack?” I said, looking blankly up at the tall young man, who was red in the face from hurrying to catch up with us, a large drawstring bag thrown over his shoulder.

“Finally… caught up with you…” he panted, clearly winded. I made room for him to sit down between Erik and me, so he could catch his breath, which he did gladly.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded. “I thought we agreed that you couldn’t just abandon your mother like that!”

“Exactly; I couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye and letting her know that she should sell the farm and move in with my aunt and uncle. So that’s what I did, and then I packed,” he gestured to the bag, “went back to the inn to let my uncle know the situation, and then I came after you.”

“No, no, no!” I said, my stomach sinking right into my shoes. “That’s not what I meant! That’s not what I meant at all!”

Jack gave me a sheepish grin. “Yeah, I know. I know what you meant. You didn’t want me to come with you for whatever reason. Well, it’s too late now. I’ve made my decision. I understand that you probably don’t want me here, but it’s better than starving to death with nothing to eat but three beans.”

“I don’t… it’s not that I don’t want you here, it’s just that… you can’t just…” I floundered for a way to explain why he had to go back, and only ended up throwing my arms up in the air in exasperation. “It’s complicated, okay? But you have to go back, okay? I’m serious, it’s vitally important that you go back home! You can’t come with us, Jack!”

The grin slid off Jack’s face to be replaced by a grimly serious expression. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t stick around for long if you don’t want me to. Once we reach Kingsbury, I’ll go my own way. But this is what I have to do. If I want to make sure my mother is going to be okay, then I have to set out to make my own fortune in the world.”

I looked helplessly over at Erik who only shrugged in reply, clearly way less concerned about this sudden turn of events than I was.

I didn’t know what to say. I could just tell Jack that if he planted the beans, they’d grow into a beanstalk that would provide him with all the security he and his mother would ever need; but assuming he even believed me, I couldn’t be sure that giving him too much information wouldn’t affect the progression of the story in a way that could ultimately prove disastrous. In the story, the beans are thrown out a window and the bean stalk grows where they landed. I didn’t know what window that was; what if Jack planted them intentionally on my advice, but in the wrong place, and the beanstalk didn’t end up leading to the giant’s kingdom in the cloud? What if the giant in the cloud was friends with the giant that Erik and I had had our run in with, and because of our meddling, the two giants would meet up? Jack outwitted a single giant in the original story, but could he escape two? What if-

My head ached. There were too many “what if”s to consider.

It was either send Jack back and pray that everything worked out, without ever knowing if I just sent him to his eventual demise; or let him tag along like he seemed hell bent on doing anyways.

If he came with, his mother would go to live with his aunt and uncle, where there would be no riches, but a comfortable enough future. And Jack would likely never become a local hero surrounded by treasures like a singing harp and a goose that lays golden eggs, but he wouldn’t starve to death on a barren farm either.

I groaned, and tried to run away the head ache that was staring to form right behind my eyes with the flat of my hands.

“Okay, fine. You can come with us if you absolutely insist. But I can’t stress this enough, you need to go back home to your mother!”

“And admit to her that I sold our last cow for so-called magic beans, dooming us to slow starvation?” He shook his head. “I can’t do that. It’s time I took responsibility for my own life once and for all.”

“I did that once,” Erik said, and he was looking straight at Jack with a slightly strained expression.

He didn’t say anything else, but both Jack and I could guess at the next unspoken sentence that hung heavy in the air: “And I never saw my family again.”

At least, not alive.

I pretended to be suddenly very interested in a rock near my shoe while the uncomfortable silence stretched between the two boys. Erik must have known that everyone in the village, including Jack, know the stories surrounding his past; but he had no reason to assume that I did too. I somehow had the feeling that he wouldn’t be thrilled to find out that his tragic past had been described to me in vivid detail without his consent, or even knowledge.

I continued to pretend like I had no idea what his ominous “I did that once” implied until Jack made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and broke the tension.

“I’ll take my chances. I know exactly what bleak future awaits me back at the farm. At least this way I’m actually doing something, taking action, rather than waiting around helplessly for the inevitable. Besides,” he added, looking at me now. “I could help you on your quest. I know you’re on a quest, don’t try to deny it,” he said hurriedly as I opened my mouth to deny this. “I could help you, I’m good at a lot of things that might come in useful.”

“Haggling not among them, clearly,” Erik snorted. “Magic beans,” he muttered under his breath, punctuated by a dramatic eye roll behind Jack’s back.

“I’ll be more help than you,” Jack snapped, turning to glare at Erik. “Are you really planning on hopping all the way to Kingsbury?”

“I’m ten times more useful than you, and I still would be even if I had no legs at all and had to crawl all the way to Kingsbury,” Erik retorted heatedly. “I’ve spent years hunting wolves and slaying ogres. What would you do if you met an ogre on the road, farm boy? Offer to harvest their carrots for them if they leave you alone?”

“And what exactly is your plan?” Jack demanded, jumping to his feet with his fists clenched at his sides, “wave that stick at them until the drop dead from laughing at how pathetic-”

“Woah, hey there!” I interjected before this could devolve into a full of fist fight—which it was about to, judging by the expression of Erik’s face. “Look, there’s no reason to get all worked up over this! Okay, Jack, fine. It’s your life, and I can’t tell you what to do with it. I think you’re making the wrong choice, but if you won’t take my word for it… well, I’d be grateful for your help.”

“I’m helping you,” Erik reminded me, and he actually sounded a little put out.

“You said you would only take me as far as Kingsbury, and then I was one my own,” I pointed out. “I can use all I help I can get, so I’m not about to turn his offer down.”

Erik looked irritated, but said nothing.

“You are on a quest then!” Jack said triumphantly.

“Uh… sort of, I guess,” I admitted. “Not a… not a real one, though. I’m just sort of… cleaning up after my own mistakes.”

I reluctantly explained the story about my meeting Rumpelstiltskin in the woods, and the events that led to his gruesome end, while Jack listened raptly.

“So if someone doesn’t manage to spin that entire room full of straw into gold in less than three days, she’ll be executed?” Jack asked when I finally finished, his mouth hanging slightly open in surprise. “What’s your plan to prevent that from happening?”

“I’m… working on it,” I replied, miserably.

“Well, that’s… that’s a bit more challenging than I was expecting, I’ll admit… but I’m still willing to offer whatever help I can,” he said eagerly.

Erik make an obvious show of rolling his eyes. “And I’m sure it will be just so much help, farm boy. You can distract the king by explaining how to properly milk a cow while Rikki and I do the actual rescuing.”

“It’s ‘Rikki and I’ now, is it?” I asked, a split second before Jack’s angry retort could escape his lips. “I thought I was too much trouble for you to stick around.”

“You are too much trouble, and if you keep it up with all these snarky little comments, I really will leave you with just farm boy here for company, and then you’ll be sorry.” Erik struggled to his feet, using his stick to help push himself up, his expression stormy. “That’s enough lazing around. We still have a long way to go before it gets dark.”

And a long way we went. The sun climbed higher in the sky, reached it crescendo, and then started to dip down towards the dark line on the western horizon that was the strip of forest that cut through the farmland of this kingdom. The expanse of fallow fields on either side of the roads were wide and flat, unbroken by trees, and after another hour of walking I was drenched in sweat. The dress I was wearing was so much heavier than the 21st century clothes I was used to, and it took little to no time for me to end up a wet, sticky mess. My hair, thick and curly and dark, seemed to soak up the heat like a solar oven so that I could have sworn I could feel my brain cooking in my skull.

By the time another hour had passed, what passed for conversation had dwindled and died completely, suffocated by the heat and the dullness of the road. Erik had made a decent pace at first, but by then he was starting to slow down badly and it was obvious he was seriously exerting himself, and trying to conceal the fact.

He wouldn’t stop when I asked him if he needed rest, so I tried to pretend to roll my ankle, ended up actually rolling my ankle, and demanded that we take another break. He complained that if we kept stopping we’d never make it to the wayhouse before dark, but I saw the way he sagged with exhaustion when he sat down across from me on the side of the dirt road.

By the time the sun was threatening to dip below the line of trees that was now so close I could practically feel the coolness of their blissful shade, it was obvious that we weren’t going to make it.

None of the three of us addressed this fact, even though we all clearly knew it was true. The fact that we had finally nearly reached the forest’s border spurred us on, and we seemed to catch a collective second wind.

But when we finally actually reached the first line of saplings and stumps that marked the outer edge of the forest, cut back by industrious farmers, Jack hesitated. Erik and I came up short, and turned to face him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly afraid that maybe he’d seen or heard something we hadn’t.

“We’re not going to make it to the wayhouse before night falls,” he said, looking past us as the dark line of trees with concern. “If we continue past this point, we’ll end up having to sleep in the forest. That’ll put us in danger of animals—or worse.”

“Ah,” I said. I hadn’t though much about that for several hours now. I turned to look at Erik. “Should we stop here for the night, then?”

Erik snorted. “Don’t be stupid. The edge of the forest isn’t like some invisible barrier that danger can’t cross. Wolves come out of the woods to prey on livestock all the time, and trolls are just as happy to terrorize a heavily populated village as they are a deserted forest path. We’re at just as much risk camping out right here as we are anywhere along the forest path, only we’ll have the additional disadvantage of losing several hours of valuable travel time.”

“Trolls?” I said, my voice catching just a little in my throat. “There are trolls in this forest?”

“Um… probably,” Erik said, looking at me with the dawning realization that perhaps he should have kept his big mouth shut.

“And what else?” I demanded.

Erik gave a guilty shrug. “Nothing. There’s nothing else to be worried about. These woods are perfectly safe.”

“I have a right to know what I’m at risk of being eaten by,” I told him. “Tell me, or I’m not going one more step.”

Erik looked around, as if he might spot a way out of this conversation. “Well… wolves, like I said. And trolls.”

“And?”

“And… maybe ogres. Witches possibly. And dwarfs can get pretty nasty. Oh, and there is a slight risk of running into spiders.”

“Spiders?” Jack echoed, not looking particularly impressed.

“Big spiders,” Erik clarified. “Really big spiders. Really big, really hungry spiders.” He stretched his arms all the way apart, to emphasize his point about the relative size of the afore-mentioned spiders. “Usually many of them at once.”

I gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “Of course. What’s a forest without giant, man-eating spiders? Witches and wolves and trolls are all fine, but it’s the giant spiders that are the real selling point.”

“As long as we stay on the path, keep our eyes and ears open, and take turns keeping watch if we end up having to sleep outside, we’ll probably be fine,” Erik said hurriedly.

“Probably!” I repeated. “You hear that, Jack? We’ll probably be fine!”

“It’s either keep going, or turn back and give up on the miller’s daughter,” Erik pointed out, and I struggled to regain some of my composure.

“Okay. Okay, yes, you’re right. We don’t have a choice. It’s fine. This will be fine.” I took a deep breath, and tried not to imagine exactly what a giant spider might look like. “All right. Lead the way.”

Erik cast one last uncertain look at me, and then continued down the road that narrowed into the thin, winding path as the sparse woodland thicket began to grow denser, the trees larger and older and pressed more closely together, until we were in the forest proper, Erik leading the way, and Jack and I close on his heels.