Bold Tales of Brave-Hearted Boys

by Susannah McFarlane

  Then, from below, GJ heard a cry: “Help, help! I’m stuck and the beanstalk is about to fall!” It was coming from down the beanstalk. It was Jack.

  GJ was horrified. Jack will surely die, he thought. But if I try to help him, so might I And he treated me really badly.

  “Help!”

  GJ knew he couldn’t stand by and let Jack die, no matter how badly he’d behaved—he had to do the right thing and help. He climbed back onto the beanstalk. The wind blew strongly, and the beanstalk swung terribly from side to side, but GJ carried on until he found Jack tangled in a broken beanstalk tendril.

  Crack!

  The beanstalk lurched to one side. It’s starting to fall! GJ realized. He plucked up Jack, who fainted in shock. GJ put him in his pocket. Then he pushed on down the beanstalk, dropped the boy onto a soft haystack, and climbed back upward as fast as he could.

  Crack!

  The beanstalk lurched again. There were more cracks and groans as huge tendrils began to fall around him.

  GJ pushed on and up. He was nearly there. If he could just—

  Crack!

  With that last crack Jack woke up, in time to see the beanstalk crash to earth.

  Had the giant who’d saved his life made it back to the Upper Lands? Jack didn’t know.

  4.

  ONE BRIGHT MORNING just a few days later, after making his mother toast and tea in bed, Jack was up early. He’d spent the past days cleaning away the beanstalk branches and tending to the vegetable garden. He’d decided he’d like to grow food for himself and his mother.

  Jack was taking a break when, on the front step, he saw a small box attached to a parachute. He removed the strings and opened the box. Inside were three golden eggs.

  A huge smile broke across Jack’s face. This could only be from the giant. He’d made it back up to the Upper Lands—he was safe! He must have made that clever parachute, too.

  Jack looked down again at the eggs, and as tears pricked his eyes, he felt something he hadn’t felt before. “Why would he do that? For me, who stole from him?” he whispered aloud. “I don’t deserve this.” He looked up at the clear blue sky above. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll do something really good with them. I promise.”

  And he did—and both Jacks and their families lived happily ever after.

  HANSEL AND GRETEL

  1.

  ONCE UPON A TIME, in a land ravaged by failing crops and famine, lived twins called Hansel and Gretel. A spell had been cast over the land, hardening the ground and the hearts of those who tried to till it. Disease was rife, and the twins’ parents were taken by illness, leaving them to the reluctant charity of their uncle and aunt, who lived in a small cottage on the edge of a large wood.

  The aunt and uncle toiled hard each day. They chopped firewood to sell in the village, but no one had money to spare. Often the most they’d manage to exchange before the long walk home were a few stale buns and a bag of flour. At home, they’d mix the flour sparingly with water to make bread and, using the leaves of the few stunted cabbages that managed to grow, boil a watery soup. But none of it was ever enough to fill their stomachs, and the poor family groaned with hunger from morning until night.

  “What will become of us?” wailed the aunt to her husband. “Soon winter will come, and we’ll not even have these cabbages to eat. We can barely feed ourselves, let alone your poor dead brother’s children. This can’t go on!”

  Hansel and Gretel tried to help. Gretel, who was strong and loved to be outside, helped chop wood while Hansel, who wasn’t so strong but was exceptionally good at solving puzzles, ordered the logs in perfect piles outside the kitchen. Gretel stoked the fire with the heavy metal poker, while Hansel carefully measured out flour and water, using as little as possible to make the most bread.

  But there was never enough food.

  “How will we survive?” lamented the aunt, stirring the watery soup. “We’ll surely starve!”

  Each night Hansel and Gretel climbed up to their straw mattress in the attic. Lying side by side, they’d tell each other stories to take their minds off their rumbling stomachs.

  Gretel made up stories of great adventure, in which she’d rescue someone—usually Hansel—from ravenous wolves in the woods, or eye-pecking birds that swooped down from the sky. Gretel’s eyes always shone as she told these stories. Hansel would often interrupt to ask the details: How many wolves were there? How big were the ravens?

  Other times, Hansel told Gretel instead how one day they’d have a little shop, where they’d make and sell all manner of delicious things that for now, huddled in their straw bed, they could only dream of: gingerbread cookies, candy-striped lollipops, and soft-centered caramels that people would come from far and wide to buy.

  Then the twins would snuggle into each other, and, their breathing falling into the same rhythm, they’d sleep until their hunger pains woke them the next morning.

  One moon-bright autumn night Hansel and Gretel heard their uncle and aunt talking in hushed tones downstairs.

  “This can’t go on, I tell you,” said the aunt. “We will all surely die!”

  “The children are of little help,” said the uncle, “yet they have hungry stomachs to fill.”

  The twins looked at each other sadly. Then the voices below became lower still, and they couldn’t make out the words, until they heard their uncle say at last, “It’s decided.”

  “It’s the only way,” agreed the aunt. “And, after all, they are not our children.”

  “Tomorrow, first thing,” said the uncle, “I’ll tell them we need to chop wood, take them deep into the forest, and leave them there.”

  Hansel and Gretel were horrified, for they’d heard of the witches and wolves that stalked the deep woods. No one dared go in, not even to find the sweet berries said to grow there.

  “I’ll stop this, Hansel!” whispered Gretel fiercely. “I’ll go down and tell them—”

  “No, sister,” said Hansel, “we need a plan, to show them we can be useful.”

  “True, brother,” replied Gretel. “But how?”

  “If we go into the woods,” replied Hansel, looking out the attic window to the moonlit yard below, “we can collect berries for us all to eat.”

  Gretel thought of the wolves, then squared her shoulders. “I can carry lots,” she said. “But how will we get home?”

  Hansel furrowed his brow, a sign he was thinking. He was looking at some white stones in the yard, gleaming in the moonlight.

  “We’ll make a trail to lead us back,” he said, “with those white stones. We need to collect them now—but how do we get down there without Uncle and Aunt seeing?”

  “Leave that to me,” said Gretel with a glint in her eyes.

  Gretel ran to the window and shimmied down the cottage wall. She stuffed stones into the large pockets of her grubby pinafore, climbed back up, and emptied the pile of stones onto their bed not three minutes later.

  “You did it!” said Hansel.

  “We did it,” replied Gretel, grinning. They put their thumbs together in their secret handshake, and as they snuggled back into bed, Hansel told Gretel the rest of his plan.

  2.

  THE NEXT MORNING, as the cockerel crowed, the uncle called gruffly, “Come down, children. We have work to do in the woods.”

  Hansel and Gretel looked at each other, put their thumbs together, and nodded. Then Hansel filled his pockets with the white stones and they climbed down the ladder into the kitchen.

  “Ready, Uncle,” they said.

  “Here,” said the wife curtly. “A crust of bread each for the way.”

  The three set off into the woods in silence, chewing their crusts, trying to make each mouthful last as long as it could. Hansel dropped white stones at regular intervals.

  Deep in the woods, the uncle stopped. “Wait here, children. I’ll chop wood, then fetch you to help carry it.”

  “Yes, Uncle,” replied Hansel and Gretel, but they knew he was lyin
g. He walked away, looking back only once at the two children in the dark woods.

  When he was gone, Hansel said, “Now for our plan, sister. We’ll collect more berries in one day than we’ve had all autumn. When we return, Uncle and Aunt will be so happy they’ll allow us to stay.”

  Indeed, there were many more ripe, juicy berries growing in these woods than at the cottage. Gretel, being faster and stronger, collected the most, but Hansel checked them all, making sure none were rotten.

  As the day neared its end, their pockets bulged. Now they turned toward home, eyes on the ground, looking for the white stones.

  Gretel ran ahead, calling back to her brother, “Here’s one, Hansel! Here’s another! Your plan worked—you did it!”

  “We did it,” replied her brother.

  Gretel waited patiently as Hansel caught up with her before dashing ahead again… and it was nearly dark when they reached the cottage and burst through the kitchen door.

  “Look, Uncle! Look, Aunt!” cried Gretel.

  “We have berries!” cried Hansel.

  But their aunt and uncle only stared at them and then each other, not even noticing the berries bulging in the children’s pockets. Hansel and Gretel watched, crestfallen, as the adults whispered. Then the uncle said harshly to the children: “Did I not tell you to wait in the woods?”

  “Yes, Uncle,” said Gretel, “but—”

  “Are the berries to make up for disobedience?” asked the aunt sharply.

  “We’ll return to the woods. Now,” said the uncle. “You’ll do as I say.”

  Hansel and Gretel were alarmed. There was no time to collect more stones. What would they do?

  Hansel furrowed his brow. “We’re sorry, Uncle, but may we have some more bread?” he asked.

  “Ha!” said the uncle. “Always thinking of yourselves.”

  But the aunt’s heart softened a little. “It will be the last you take, I suppose,” she muttered to herself, sighing as she handed over two crusts. “Now go!”

  Gretel went to eat the bread. “Don’t eat it, Gretel,” whispered Hansel. “I have a plan.”

  The children followed as their uncle led them back into the woods, taking a different path from last time. This time Hansel broke off crumbs of bread and dropped them along the way.

  Gretel saw what her brother was doing. “Good plan, brother,” she whispered. Hansel wasn’t so sure.

  It was dark when the uncle stopped. “Stay here,” he said. “Do not disobey me again.” This time he did not look back.

  “Now what?” asked Gretel.

  “We wait until morning,” said Hansel. “Then we’ll follow the crumbs back.”

  A wolf howled, and both children jumped.

  “I’m a bit scared,” said Hansel.

  “So am I,” said Gretel.

  “But we have each other,” said Hansel.

  “Yes,” said Gretel.

  And the two children smiled, put their thumbs together, and nodded.

  “Look, Hansel,” cried Gretel, “I can gather up the fallen leaves to keep us warm.”

  While his sister scooped up the leaves, Hansel found a sheltered spot under a large oak tree. The twins snuggled into each other and ate their berries for dinner. Then, with their blanket of leaves offering some comfort from the cold night air, they fell asleep.

  3.

  THE CHILDREN WOKE to sunbeams pushing through the forest trees and ants crawling across their legs and arms.

  Gretel leaped up, stamping her feet furiously. “That will only make them angry,” advised Hansel softly. “Let’s go home.”

  “Yes,” cried Gretel, running ahead, searching for the crumbs. But she couldn’t find a single one.

  “None here, Hansel!” she cried, again and again. Finally she spotted one, but a black raven swooped down, screeching, and picked it up in its beak.

  “Birds have eaten all the crumbs,” said Hansel. “I should have thought of that. We’re lost!”

  “But we have each other,” said Gretel.

  “Yes,” said Hansel, managing a little smile, “but we are still lost.”

  “I can choose the clearest path for us,” said Gretel. “Come on, brother.”

  And so the children walked on deeper into the woods, Gretel thrashing at the undergrowth when it blocked their path, using a large stick she’d found. Hansel, meanwhile, pointed out the odd dangerous insect and poisonous plant they needed to avoid. Between them they managed to walk quite some way, avoiding the stinging nettles and biting ants of the wood. After some hours they came to a clearing. At its far end, they saw a cottage.

  “Perhaps whoever lives there might give us something to eat,” said Gretel, and ran ahead. When she got closer, she turned back. “Oh, quick, Hansel,” she shouted. “Come quickly. You’ll never believe this!”

  Indeed, the cottage was no ordinary cottage. While it had a door with two windows on either side and a roof, as most cottages do, this cottage wasn’t made of stone, nor wood nor thatching. Instead, it was made entirely of things one could eat—mouthwateringly sweet things Hansel and Gretel had never dreamt of seeing, let alone eating. The walls were made of gingerbread, with pink-and-white icing piped up and down. Inlaid in the icing were marshmallows and hard candies—blue, yellow, red, and purple. Licorice lined the window frames, and the windowsills held tiny cupcakes with lashings of frosted icing in all the colors of the rainbow. Jelly-chews formed heart shapes on the shutters. A little fence of candy canes circled the cottage, and cotton-candy flowers on toffee stems stood in gingerbread flowerpots by the door.

  To the side of the cottage was a vegetable patch, but sprouting from the soil of grated chocolate was even more candy: caramel popcorn grew in clusters on a honeycomb-trellised vine of peppermint jelly leaves; hard candies as big as pumpkins grew from sprawling green licorice roots; strawberry sherbet bombs burst from white chocolate flowers; and heads of soft jelly-drops grew like broccoli on thick stalks of green marzipan. Next to the patch, lemon-drop and toffee-apple tree branches bent over from the abundance of candy-fruit on them.

  Hansel and Gretel couldn’t believe their eyes—or their noses. They licked their lips and gazed about in wonder.

  “We have to try some, Gretel,” said Hansel, carefully removing a candy cane from the path and giving it a huge lick. “Oh, it’s delicious!”

  Gretel took a cupcake from a windowsill and took a large bite. Jam oozed out of the cake, mingling deliciously in her mouth with the frosted icing. “Hansel!” she exclaimed. “Can this be real?”

  But it was real, and soon the starving children were trying everything they could reach, filling their stomachs with candies and lollipops, caramel-filled chocolates and strawberry marshmallows.

  There was a creak as the front door opened. An old, shaky-sounding voice came from inside. “Nibble, nibble, like a mouse. Is someone nibbling at my house?”

  Hansel and Gretel jumped back, mouths full, as an old woman hobbled outside. She was dressed in a long black dress with a frilly white collar, and a red apron embroidered with little white hearts. She leaned heavily on a wooden cane.

  Her face was lined with wrinkles, and her eyes were an odd red color, yet she looked kind. She had rosy cheeks and her hair was in a soft bun, tendrils swirling around her face like cotton candy. She smiled a friendly smile, but then squinted as she hobbled closer, her nose twitching.

  “I can’t see a thing,” she said, “but I can smell lovely children.” The closer she got to Hansel and Gretel, the more her nose twitched. “Ah, yes, how delightful—children! Come closer, my sweet lovelies. Let me feel you.”

  Hansel and Gretel didn’t move.

  “No need to fear,” said the old woman. “Let’s have a look at you.” She’d reached them now, and she pinched their cheeks and arms. “You’re a strong one, aren’t you?” she said to Gretel. “Hmmm, too muscly. What about you, boy?” She pinched his thin arm again. “Not much fat on you, is there?”

  “I’ve always been small,�
�� said Hansel, “and we hardly eat.”

  “Well, that’s no good at all,” replied the woman. “We need to fatten you up—otherwise you’re no good to me, are you?” Hansel wondered what she meant by that, but Gretel was already chewing on a caramel the old woman had pushed into her mouth. “Now, do come inside, my sweeties, and I’ll make you each a large mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows.”

  Hansel and Gretel looked at each other and nodded. If the old woman had made such delicious sweets, surely she was kind. “Thank you!” they said, following her into the house.

  As they entered, though, the door slammed shut behind them, and when the old woman turned back, her face had changed. Her mouth had twisted into a mean snarl, and her red eyes flashed.

  “You, my dears, are good enough to eat,” she said with a thin laugh, “or at least you, boy, will be once I fatten you up!”

  The children realized the old woman was a witch and had used her magical house to lure them in, but it was too late to escape. The door was locked, and as the witch banged her cane three times on the floor an iron cage fell down, imprisoning Hansel. Gretel pulled at the cage bars.

  “Stop it, girl! Save your strength for chopping my wood, stirring my batter, and feeding your brother.”

  “No!” cried Gretel, pulling harder at the bars.

  “There’s no escape,” the witch said simply. “You’ll do as I say. I may not be much for seeing, but I can smell you perfectly. One move I don’t command and your brother will be baked.”

  Hansel and Gretel shook with fear. They were trapped.

  4.