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Authors: Adam Gidwitz

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BOOK: A Tale Dark and Grimm
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When the sun came up the next morning, and the swamp still showed no sign of coming to an end, Gretel began to worry. “I think we'll be lost forever!” she said.
Hansel said, “And there's no food anywhere.”
But Hansel was wrong. For just then, the two children saw a marvelous sight. There was a house, right in the center of the swamp. Its walls were the color of chocolate cake, and its roof glittered under the rising sun like icing. Slowly, the two hungry travelers approached it.
“I'm hungry,” Hansel said.
“Me too,” Gretel agreed.
“It looks like cake,” Hansel said.
“It smells like cake,” Gretel agreed.
“Let's eat it!” Hansel cried.
“Mmmggrgmmm!”
Gretel tried to agree, but her mouth was already full of fudgy, moist chocolate cake.
Just then, the door to the house flew open, and a woman in a baker's apron appeared on the front step. “Who's eating my house?” she bellowed. Hansel hid a handful of cake behind his back. Gretel had chocolate all over her face.
“No one,” Hansel said. Gretel nodded, swallowing.
But the baker woman's face softened when she saw the two children. “You must be lost, to be in the middle of the swamp all by yourselves! Are you hungry?”
Gretel nodded and tried to sneak another handful of cake from the wall of the house.
“Well, don't eat my house!” the baker woman laughed. “Come in and I'll fix you a proper breakfast!”
So the children came in, and she made them goose eggs and wild boar bacon and good thick brown German bread with butter. They were so full after breakfast, and so exhausted from having walked all night, that the kindly baker woman put them in her bed and let them sleep all day.
When they awoke, a wonderful meal of sausages and potatoes and cold milk was laid out before them.
“But I'm not hungry,” Hansel said.
“Oh, you must eat up and regain your strength!” the baker woman told him.
So the children ate. The food was delicious.
The baker woman asked the children what their names were.
“This is Gretel,” Hansel said as he shoveled a disgustingly large amount of potatoes into his mouth. “And I'm her brother, Hansel.”
Then the baker woman wanted to know how they had come to her house. They were careful not to let her know that they were royalty, lest she return them to the castle and their murderous parents. But they did tell her that their parents had cut off their heads (which the baker woman didn't believe). And that they were looking for a kind family where no one would ever do that to them again.
“And where we can eat cake whenever we want?” Gretel added hopefully.
The baker woman smiled and brought forth an enormous chocolate cake.
“Hooray!” Hansel cried. Gretel shoveled a fistful into her mouth.
 
The two children stayed with the baker woman for many weeks. Every day, they ate three enormous meals, plus a snack between lunch and dinner, and one before bedtime. They could eat whatever they wanted, and they did. Gretel shoveled chocolate cake into her mouth continuously, smearing it onto her pink cheeks like war paint. Hansel wasn't much better.
One night, as the children lay in bed with horrible stomachaches, Hansel said to his sister, “Do you think this is Heaven? The baker woman does all the work, we can eat as much as we like, and we never have to do anything.”
“It must be Heaven,” Gretel said.
Then Hansel said, “Gretel, do you miss our parents?”
Gretel tried to think if she did or not. But she couldn't tell. She was too busy eating the wall.
 
 
It wasn't Heaven, of course. For, as you well know, the baker woman was planning to eat them.
But she wasn't a witch. The Brothers Grimm call her a witch, but nothing could be further from the truth. In fact she was just a regular woman who had discovered, sometime around the birth of her second child, that while she liked chicken and she liked beef and she liked pork, what she really,
really
liked was
child
.
I bet you can figure out how this happened.
When I was little, my mother used to say, “Oh, you're so cute! Look at those little arms! Look at those little legs! Look at that little tookie!” (That was my mother's word for my bottom.) And then she'd say, “I'm going to eat you up!” And she said it like she meant it.
Has your parent ever said something like that to you? Most
parents say that kind of thing all the time, you know. It's totally normal. Just be careful not to let them actually
taste
you.
Well, the baker woman's children tasted so good to her that she decided to spend the rest of her time trying to find others to devour. She liked them nice and plump, so she always made sure to fatten them up before she ate them. Which is why she was treating Hansel and Gretel as she was.
Why else would she allow them to wallow around all day, giving them nothing to do, nothing to work for, nothing to learn? Why else trap them in a house of chocolate cake and let them eat to their hearts' content, never warning them that they would become fat and lazy, like pigs in a sty?
Parents are supposed to help their children to grow wise and healthy and strong. The baker woman was doing the opposite, plying the children with so much food and giving them so little to do that they could not help but become weak and heavy and dull instead.
 
 
Dull enough that Gretel didn't question when the baker woman asked her to clean out the large, mysterious cage in the back of the house, and then slammed the door shut on her. Heavy enough that Hansel didn't feel like going outside to see where his sister had gone. Weak enough that, when the baker woman told Hansel that they would be fattening Gretel up for just one more week, and that then they would eat her, Hansel could do nothing about it.
And then the day came to eat Gretel. “I think we'll roast her,” the baker woman said. “A little rosemary, some salt, and we'll put her in the oven for three or four hours. Then her meat will positively fall off the bone.”
She brought the fat Hansel down to her basement, where there stood an enormous oven. “I need you to check if this is hot enough, sweetie,” the baker woman said. “I'm going to start heating it, and you get inside. When I can smell your skin roasting, I'll know it's ready for your sister.” She shoved Hansel inside and closed the oven door.
The oven became hotter and hotter, and Hansel began to sweat. Then a delicious smell wafted to his nostrils.
Oh no!
he thought.
I'm cooking!
He sniffed at the air.
And I smell delicious!
But he wasn't cooking. It just was the remainder of a leg of goose that he'd hidden in his trouser pocket from last night's dinner and had forgotten to eat before he fell asleep. It was so hot in the oven that the skin was crinkling. The baker woman smelled it, too. She came down and opened the oven door. “Are you cooking yet?” she asked. But Hansel shook his head and took another bite of the goose leg. The baker woman frowned and closed the oven door.
I probably should have said yes,
he thought.
Oh well.
He finished off the goose leg and continued to sweat. Soon, another delicious smell rose to his nostrils.
Oh no!
he thought.
Now I'm cooking for certain!
He sniffed at the air.
And I smell delicious!
But he wasn't cooking. It was three strips of bacon that he'd tucked into his socks at breakfast. It was so hot in the oven that the fat was sizzling and popping. The baker woman smelled it, too. She came down and opened the oven door. “Are you cooking yet?” she asked. But Hansel shook his head and ate the second strip of bacon. The baker woman frowned and closed the door.
I probably should have said yes,
he thought.
Oh well.
Hansel finished off the bacon and continued to sweat. Soon, yet another delicious smell rose to his nostrils.
Oh no!
he thought.
I
must
be cooking now! And I smell delicious! just like chocolate cake!
This time, he was right. He
was
cooking. And he
did
smell just like chocolate cake, because he had eaten so much of it since coming to the baker woman's house. The baker woman smelled him cooking, came downstairs, and opened the oven door. “Are you cooking yet?” she asked.
But Hansel shook his head. “I don't think it's hot enough in here,” he shrugged. “That smell was just some chocolate cake I'd stuffed in my undies.”
“Not hot enough in there!” the baker woman huffed. “Let me see!” She crawled into the oven, pushing Hansel out of the way. “Feels plenty hot to me!” she said.
Hansel had crawled out of the oven while the baker woman was crawling in. He looked at her—pink and mean and sweating, sitting in the enormous oven.
“Hey!” she shouted at him. “What are you doing?”
Something dim flickered in his food-addled brain. “I'm saving myself and my sister,” he said, “from another terrible parent.” And then he closed and locked the oven door.
“Hey! Let me out!” the baker woman shouted at him. “Hey, you stupid little kid, let me out!” Hansel stared through the grate on the oven door at her.
The baker woman began to sweat more. Her face was burning. “I'm sorry!” she cried. “I'm sorry for what I've done. I don't want to die! Just let me out! Let me out!”
Hansel's face softened.
“Please? Please! I could die in here! I could die!”
Hansel began to feel sorry for her. But he certainly wasn't going to let her out.
He walked upstairs and out to the back of the house, where he found Gretel sitting in the dirty cage. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
She looked up.
“Dinner's in the oven,” he added.
But Gretel wasn't hungry.
And besides, he was only kidding.
The End
Now, that's not a bad little story. But it is a crime, a crime, that that is the only part of Hansel and Gretel's story that anybody knows.
Yeah, yeah, nearly getting eaten by a cannibalistic baker woman is bad. But not nearly as bad as what's to come.
Speaking of which, the little kids might have liked that one. Or at least, they probably could have sat through it without screaming their heads off.
In fact, if any little kids heard that story, that's just fine. Hi, little kids. But things get much worse from here on. So why don't you go hire a babysitter, and let's do the rest of this thing alone.
The Seven Swallows
O
nce upon a time, a man lived with his wife and seven sons in a cozy little hut in the middle of a small village. The sons were strong and good, and the wife was kind and loving, and you would think that they would be a very happy family. And, for the most part, you would think right. But the father wasn't quite as happy as he could have been. You see, he wished for a daughter more than anything in the world. But since he and his wife had tried for one seven times, and failed each time, he was now resigned never to get his wish.
Imagine his surprise, then, when one evening a boy and a girl knocked on his door and asked if they could come and live with him. They explained that they had run away from two different homes together; one where their parents had cut off their heads, and the other where a wicked woman had tried to eat them. The man nodded at them like you nod at crazy people.
But, they said, when they saw this cozy little house in the center of the village, with candlelight flickering in every window, they decided that it was a better house for a family than either a palace or a cake-house, and that any parents who lived inside would probably love them and not try to hurt them. So they had decided that they would like to live there for the rest of their days, if that was okay with the man and his wife.
Well, the man was delighted (maybe their heads really had been cut off. So what? Who cared!). He breathlessly ushered in Hansel and Gretel—for that's who they were, of course—and told his wife to prepare them dinner. Then he ran to tell his seven sons to go to the town well for water for the bath.
“Who's taking a bath?” the eldest one asked.
“Your new brother and sister!” the father shouted with joy. “Now hurry!”
The boys were puzzled by this, certainly. But they knew their father had a terrible temper when he was angry and were afraid to displease him, so together they hoisted the great wooden tub onto their shoulders and ran to the well.
BOOK: A Tale Dark and Grimm
12.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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