"Is this her?" The boy spoke to Kurt.
"Who else would it be?" Kurt replied sarcastically. The boy turned and studied Liesel unabashedly. Liesel couldn't help but stare back. His hair was cut roughly, as Kurt's always was, and his face was angular, too. His appearance was a bit softer though, and his voice was still young and unchanged.
"Liesel, this is Keegan, my brother. Kee, Liesel." Kurt said with a dramatic wave of his arm.
"Hi," Liesel found herself strangely shy. The boy didn't respond at first, just continued to study her. Finally, he spoke.
"Why are you looking at maps?" Liesel opened her mouth to respond, but Kurt cut her off.
"Liesel's not from around here. She likes to see where she came from." This was true, as they'd looked at maps of the mountain earlier that morning, but Liesel wondered why Kurt was being so careful with what his brother knew. After a brief silence, Keegan added,
"Father doesn't like it when you're up here."
"Well, who's going to tell him?" Kurt challenged. They stood for another moment, eyes locked, until Keegan turned his gaze to the ground, beaten.
"Father says we need to be home early tonight," he mumbled.
"I haven't forgotten. I'll be there." Keegan looked past Kurt at Liesel again.
"Can I stay with you?" he whined. "Uncle Lothur wants me to help him when I get back." This time Kurt's answer was gentler.
"We've talked about this, Kee." They shared a long look in which much was said, but Liesel understood none of it. Finally, Keegan nodded sullenly at the ground and began to shuffle away.
"Actually, I need to go soon," Liesel took her book from Kurt. She laughed at his confused look. "My father realized this morning that he'd missed my birthday, so he's sending me into Ward to order some new dresses and a new cloak. Mine are getting too small." Kurt snorted.
"Three months is a bit late, isn't it?" Rolling her eyes, Liesel smiled and nodded.
"Yes, but it's better than him not remembering at all." She gave a small sigh. "My mother was always the one who remembered those things." They began climbing down the cliff beside the waterfall. The climb no longer taxed her the way it had the first time, but she wasn't tall enough yet to use the footholds Kurt used, so she still needed his help. As they made the descent, she thought about the evening before, when Warin had finally realized his mistake.
"Liesel!" He'd barged in the door, so excited he'd nearly run to the table she'd just placed supper on. "I have somethin' special!" He had proceeded to tell her all about the annual autumn festival that was approaching, something she'd known about for weeks after overhearing a conversation after worship on Holy Day. "Now you're not old enough for the jigs," he'd mused. "You have to be fifteen for those. But you can still dress up like your mama used to. Your birthday is coming soon, isn't it? You'll be what, fourteen?"
"I'm already fourteen," Liesel couldn't bring herself to look up as she'd sliced the bread, the old anger returning even after three months.
"Already? When did that happen?"
"Three months ago," Liesel had felt the old resentment rise up in her heart again.
"What was I doin' then?"
"Drinking," Liesel had responded icily, finally putting the knife down to look at her father. "You were drinking, Father! Now sit down. The fish is growing cold." Warin had obeyed, but he kept sending confused, wounded looks in her direction as he ate. Neither of them said anything else the rest of the night. Liesel thought he had forgotten the exchange the next morning until he dropped a small bag of coins next to her porridge.
"Go to the tailor," he'd said quietly. "Have 'im make you some dresses that your mum would be proud of. Get whatever you think she would like." Liesel had gaped at the amount of money when she'd opened the pouch.
"Father, I can't-"
"Yes, you can." He turned away as he stuffed his trousers in his boots. "I can do without a drink for a while." And without another word, he'd stalked out of the house.
"What color will your new cloak be?" Kurt's question drew Liesel from her musings as they reached the bottom of the cliff. "Red again?"
"I don't know. Red was my mother's favorite color, but perhaps it's time I choose something different." And yet, moving on in even such a small way was still painful to consider.
"But if you get a different color," Kurt's eyes twinkled, "I won't be able to find my strange little friend the next time she gets lost in the woods." Liesel felt herself blush pleasantly.
"Will you be at the autumn festival this year?" In her heart, she begged him to say yes. The idea of being around all those villagers who stared at her made her uncomfortable. It was bad enough on Holy Day every week, but at least she and her father had a purpose when they went into town then. Going to a giant celebration to do nothing but watch others dance and be watched herself sounded like torture. Her father would be there for sure, but he seemed oblivious to much of what made her uncomfortable. He still thought she was imagining that the townspeople stared at her. Besides, she allowed herself to admit, she wanted Kurt to see the fancy new dress she was going to have made. She would never be able to wear it out in the woods without tearing it to pieces on the bushes and briers. When she looked at Kurt, however, she realized he looked very uncomfortable.
"I don't think so."
"But you're fifteen, aren't you? Father says when you're fifteen you can dance at the festivals."
"Almost." He looked even more uncomfortable, staring down at the ground and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Liesel tried to swallow the disappointment that burned in her throat before it could show on her face. She wasn't even sure why she was so disappointed, but the feeling of rejection was there. Kurt must have sensed something, however, because he eventually spoke, his voice breaking twice. "It's my father," he finally mumbled. "He says it's going to be my job to take care of the family one day, and he thinks it's a waste of time to go to Ward."
"Oh," she thought about that for a moment. "Is that why he doesn't like for you to go to the waterfall either?"
"Yes," Kurt sounded bitter. "He says there's no use dreaming about things that aren't going to happen. I'm needed here, so there's no use in hoping for the impossible." Liesel had the sudden urge to reach out and comfort him. It made her angry that someone could care so little about Kurt's dreams. Again, the sudden swell of emotion took her by surprise. What was wrong with her? Liesel fought the urge shake her head and clear it as they stood there awkwardly.
"Well," Kurt finally took a deep breath and put on a smile, although Liesel didn't think it seemed real. "You go get your new clothes. I need to find my little brother."
"He seems nice enough."
"He's not too bad. Spends too much time trying to be older than he is, but I keep him in line," Kurt's smile was more genuine now. "I'll see you later, Liesel."
Liesel was always sad to leave Kurt, but she was truly excited about her new clothes. It was a good thing her father had given her so much money. She wasn't tall by any means, but she had managed to grow out of all the outfits her grandmother had taken her to get fitted for the year before, and her shoes were so small they hurt her feet.
As she walked, Liesel wondered at what had possessed her to ask Kurt if he would be attending. She hadn't planned on asking him. The question had just popped up without her permission. But once she'd even considered seeing Kurt at the festival, the desire had all but overwhelmed her. Liesel didn't even know what she would do with him if they somehow met at the dance. They were both too young to participate in the jigs, as Warin had reminded her. Still, she reasoned with herself, it would be nice to have a friend there to talk to. Even when they weren't talking, Liesel found Kurt's presence calming. Still, a little voice nagged, there was something beyond having a friend present that she desired. Her hand reminded her of that, still tingling delightfully where he had touched it that morning.
It took entering town for Liesel to shake off such confusing thoughts. As she walked through Ward alone for the
first time since the disastrous first encounter, she tried not to look anyone in the eye until she'd reached the tailor's shop. It was a small building with a thatched roof, just like her own cottage, but its interior had real wooden floors, rather than stone floors like most of the other buildings in town. The wooden floors were also meticulously clean. Bolts of fabrics sat on shelves. The choices weren't as varied as the cloth in Liesel's old city, but they would serve the purposes she needed.
"Hello?" she called out. The tailor appeared from the back, wearing a welcoming smile until he recognized Liesel.
"Oh," he stuttered. "What can I do for you?" The words were polite, but strained. Liesel took a breath to steady her voice before speaking.
"I need two new dresses...and a cloak." Her father had given her enough money for a three or four dresses, but Liesel was already uncomfortable. It would be more agreeable for both Liesel and the tailor if they spent as little time together as possible.
"I see. Let me...let me get my wife. Just a moment. Millie!" The woman who responded to the call looked just as shocked as her husband had when she walked in a moment later. She recovered from her shock more gracefully, however, and began to ask Liesel a number of questions about the styles of dress that she wanted. It seemed she, too, took care to say as little as possible. By the time Liesel stood to be measured, she was wishing for the hundredth time that her mother was there with her. She would know how to put these people at ease. Liesel chose her fabrics as quickly as possible before darting out of the shop at the first chance she got.
Liesel's visit to the cobbler's shop went no better. By the time she was done being measured for new shoes, she was ready to scream in frustration. What could she have done to make these people abhor and fear her so? It wasn't until she was out looking at ribbons in the square that she found a smiling face.
"What are you searching for, lass?" Liesel looked up from the booth she was inspecting to see a stocky man in a green suit. He immediately struck her as unusual because his face was weathered, as though he spent much of his time in the sun, something no resident of Ward ever did. Also, he was grinning at her. Liesel was so surprised she nearly forgot to smile back.
"I...I'm looking for a ribbon."
"Ah, for the ribbon dance, eh? You'll win that one for sure, my dear. You're pretty enough by far!"
"No," Liesel blushed at the compliment. "In truth, I am only fourteen. Next year I'll be old enough."
"My cart is next over," he gestured to the cart filled with trinkets just a few feet away. "You might see if there's something to your liking." Liesel felt a rush of joy. Perhaps this town wasn't hopeless yet. Beaming at him, Liesel followed. As she brushed through the odds and ends that were laid out on the back of the cart, however, she was startled by the sudden sharpness of his voice.
"Lass, where did you get that?" He was staring down at her hand. In her haste to leave the tailor's shop, Liesel had forgotten to replace the gloves she usually wore in public. He was looking right at the scar on the back of her hand.
"I...," but she couldn't bring herself to utter the words. The dread in his face told her that he already knew it all, though. Fear moved through her as it always did when she remembered that night. Suddenly, finding a ribbon didn't seem very important. All she wanted to do was get back to the cottage. "I think I need to go," she whispered faintly as she began to walk away. He grabbed her by the elbow though, and drew her near enough to smell his rancid breath.
"You must leave this place!" He whispered urgently. "Not just this town. You need to escape the woods!" He gripped her arms so tightly it hurt. "You don't know the danger you're in!" Liesel glanced around her and saw people staring at them. No one moved to help her though. "They can't help you!" He whispered violently, giving her a small shake, "They can't even talk about it!"
"Why?"
"I don't know," he shook his balding head vigorously. "I've tried to ask, but it's like they become mutes the moment the secret is breathed about!"
"Then you tell me!" Liesel was becoming quite frustrated by the man's cryptic hints.
"I can't!"
"Then why would you tell me-?"
"I don't know what happens when girls here get that mark." His gray eyes were wide with anxiety. "All I know is that they all disappear. Every single one."
"Mr. Gaspar," Mayor Odo was suddenly beside them. He promptly pried the merchant's hands off the girl, which she was quite grateful for. "Just what do you think you're doing?" His words were normal enough, but there were dangerous undertones in his voice. And while Liesel was thankful to be free of the peddler's grasp, she realized with dismay, however, that the mayor's involvement also meant she wasn't going to hear what the peddler had to say about the wolf. "When I'm done walking this young lady home, I'll be having a word with you!" Odo's face was even redder than usual as he glared at the peddler, and despite the cool air that hinted at an early autumn, sweat dripped down the side of his face as he nearly shook with anger.
"Please," Liesel tried to get his attention. "I'm fine, truly. Actually, I haven't yet finished making my purchases. You really need not trouble yourself by walking me home."
"Are you certain?" Liesel nodded enthusiastically, and to her relief, the mayor let her go. As soon as she was on the other side of the cart, she ducked down behind one of its giant wooden wheels and listened to the mayor as he confronted the peddler.
"I don't know how you found out about the wolf, but I am warning you now to let it go. I do not want to hear that you've breathed one more word of this to Liesel or her father or any other living creature!"
"It's not as secret as you think it is," the peddler hissed back. "All the other woodland villages have their own version of the story. I don't know which one is closest to being true, but they're all nasty in my own opinion. You should also know it's no secret girls go missing from your town, and have been for generations. If you ever left your beloved hole in the ground, you might have learned that a long time ago."
"You think you're something special, don't you?" The mayor's voice was mocking. "Heroic, even! But know this: if you tell Liesel's father, and they run, it won't end there."
"But she's his daughter!"
"They're all someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's betrothed. If you save her, you'll only be dooming another." They were quiet for a moment before the mayor sighed, suddenly seeming weary. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but also more menacing.
"If I find out that you've spoken a word of this to Warin or his daughter, I'll make sure you don't trade in this town ever again. And I mean that, Gil. I don't care how many generations of your fathers have worked here. It will never happen again if you don't pay heed."
With that, he turned and began to walk away. Liesel had to nearly leap behind a group of women to keep him from seeing her as he passed by, the gravel crunching unevenly under his heavy frame. She tried to calm herself before she headed home. There was no reason to draw even more attention to herself by walking like a terrified lunatic, constantly looking over her shoulder. But it was hard to breathe, let alone stop the shaking of her hands. It took all of her focus to put one foot in front of the other enough times to get back to the cottage. As she neared the house, however, she spotted a familiar green suit. She must have been even more distracted than she thought, for him to have passed her on his horse without her notice. Throwing herself against the nearest tree, she peered out to see him deep in conversation with her father.
"You are not understanding me! Your daughter will be lost to you if you don't leave! She was marked by a wolf. Women bitten by wolves have been disappearing for generations! Don't you care?"
"I do care about my daughter!" Warin's voice thundered across the way, loud even from where Liesel was standing. "I care that she's had enough hurts for three girls her age, and she doesn't need you scarin' the life out of her with your tales!"
"But if you would just-"
"You're an old fool with superstitions. Now, I'm goin
' to call the bailiff if you don't leave my home!" her father bellowed. Frustrated, the peddler slapped his cap back on his head and stalked off to his horse, nearly stumbling upon Liesel's hiding place in the process. He was so absorbed in muttering to himself, however, that much to her great relief, he missed her completely.
Liesel was shaking all over by the time he was gone. There were too many thoughts racing around in her head to even begin sifting through them. Her grandmother's words, however, were louder than the rest.
People that go to that town...they never leave.
Liesel looked down at the mark on the back of her hand. It had healed, but the scar would be there to stay, silvery lines against the whiteness of her skin. She stared at it for a long time, wondering if it could have some sort of evil magic that could trap her there in the forest. The scar looked normal enough, at least as far as scars were concerned. Could there be a magic in it truly powerful enough to never let her go? The thought was too frightening to even entertain. She would leave these woods someday, she'd long ago vowed to herself. She had to.
She also had to go back to face her father in the cabin eventually, and the last thing she wanted him to do was think she believed the peddler's warnings. He meant well, she knew, but her father was often less than keen in considering the possibility of the unseen.
Kurt. She would ask Kurt the next day. He'd lived in the woods all his life. Surely he would know something, or at least be able to let her know if she was in danger. This thought gave her enough courage to walk through the door and face her father, pretending nothing was amiss. He said nothing about the peddler's visit, and she knew better than to ask. Instead, they made small talk about her new clothes and the upcoming festival. By the time supper was over, however, the pretending had exhausted Liesel, and she was very ready for bed.
Sleep would not come though. Instead, restless dreams harried her, trapping Liesel between consciousness and true rest. Images of wolves and the sensation of wandering through the forest alone toyed with her mind all night, and when she awoke, she felt as if she had never laid down at all. Instead, she felt empty. Her fears had wreaked havoc with her mind for hour upon hour, and she felt as if there was no rational part of her left. All she could think about was finding Kurt.
Girl in the Red Hood Page 5