The Fairytale Keeper: Avenging the Queen

by Andrea Cefalo

  “The woods are filled with things much eviler than princes and archbishops,” Ivo says.

  “Like big, fat, old witches that shall fatten us up and turn us into gingerbread?” I laugh.

  “I meant thieves and wolves. What do you mean witches?”

  “Your mother never told you the story of Hansel and Gretel?” I widen my eyes in surprise.

  “My mother’s never been much of a storyteller.”

  “It’s a story Mother used to tell me to keep me from wandering off into the woods alone. I don’t know why though. We aren’t really near the woods.”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard a good story.” Ivo rests his hands behind his head and leans back against the tree trunk.

  ***

  Mother had usually told me this story during the day for she thought it might give me nightmares, but it never scared me. I begged her to tell it to me night after night, curled in a night shift under my blankets, our breaths steaming in the cold of the night. The thought brings me back to another time. A happier time.

  ***

  “Tell me the one about the children and the witch with the gingerbread house!”

  “Again?” She asked, feigning surprise for every time she told me a new story of hers, I made her tell it over and over until I memorized it completely.

  “Please,” I whined and pouted my lips as pitifully as possible.

  “My little Snow White. Does nothing scare you?” My mother laughed.

  “Why do you call me that?” I said with a scowl.

  “Why do I call you what?” She replied, smiling.

  “Snow. White,” I humphed.

  “Because your skin is as bright and beautiful as freshly fallen snow. Now do you want me to tell you the story or not?”

  “Tell me! Tell me!”

  “All right then.” She said and scooted her back against the wall. I slid deeper beneath the covers and rested my head on her lap as she played with my hair. She rarely made it to the end of her stories before I’d be fast asleep.

  “Once upon a time….” I prompted.

  ***

  I’ve had the story memorized for years, but know I cannot tell it like her. She would do all the characters’ voices in just the right way. A lump in my throat swells at the memory, but I cannot let the pain of my grief let me forget her. Mother’s stories are a part of her. In a way, telling them brings her back to life.

  “Are you going to tell the story or not?” Ivo says.

  “I am. I am.” I swallow hard and try not to let the sentiment bring tears to my eyes.

  “On the edge of a great forest lived a poor woodcutter with his wife and two children. The boy was called Hansel and the girl Gretel. The woodcutter had little to bite and to break, and once when great dearth fell on the land, he could no longer procure even daily bread.”

  “Wait, what’s a dearth?” Ivo asks.

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s an old word for drought or bad soil.”

  I continue. “Now he, the father I mean, thought over this by night in his bed, and tossed about in his anxiety. He groaned and said to his wife: ‘What is to become of us? How are we to feed our poor children, when we no longer have anything even for ourselves?’”

  I use my most wicked voice for the evil stepmother. “‘I’ll tell you what, husband,’ answered the woman. ‘Early tomorrow morning we shall take the children out into the forest to where it is the thickest. There we will light a fire for them, and give each of them one piece of bread. Then we shall go to our work and leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we shall be rid of them.’”

  I muster a deep surprised voice for the husband. “‘No, wife,’ said the man, ‘I will not do that. How can I bear to leave my children alone in the forest? The wild animals would soon come and tear them to pieces.’

  “‘Oh, you fool!’ said she. ‘Then we must all four die of hunger. You may as well plane the planks for our coffins.’ The wretch left him no peace until he consented.

  “‘But I feel very sorry for the poor children, all the same,’ said the man,” I say in a deep voice.

  “Unable to sleep for hunger, the two children had heard what their stepmother had said. Gretel wept bitter tears, and said to Hansel: ‘Now all is over with us,’” I say in a little girl voice.

  “‘Be quiet, Gretel,’ said Hansel. ‘Do not distress yourself. I will soon find a way to help us.’ And when the parents had fallen asleep, he got up, put on his cloak, opened the door below, and crept outside. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house glittered like silver groschens. Hansel stooped and stuffed the little pocket of his coat with as many as he could fit. Then he went back and said to Gretel: ‘Be comforted, dear little sister, and sleep in peace. God will not forsake us,’ and he lay down again in his bed.

  “Before the sun had risen, the woman came and awoke the two children, saying: ‘Get up, you sluggards! We are going into the forest to fetch wood.’ She gave each a little piece of bread and said: ‘There is something for your dinner, but do not eat it up before then, for you will get nothing else.’

  “Gretel took the bread under her apron, as Hansel had the pebbles in his pocket. Then they all set out together on the way to the forest. After they had walked a short time, Hansel stood still and peeped back at the house, and did so again and again.

  “His father said: ‘Hansel, what are you looking at there and staying behind for? Pay attention, and do not forget how to use your legs.’

  “‘Ah, father,’ said Hansel. ‘I am looking at my little white cat, which is sitting up on the roof, and wants to say goodbye to me.’

  “The wife said: ‘Fool! That is not your little cat,’” I say in the wicked stepmother voice. “That is the morning sun which is shining on the chimneys.’ Hansel, however, had not been looking back at the cat, but had been throwing one of the white pebbles from his pocket on the road.

  “When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said: ‘Now, children, pile up some wood, and I shall light a fire that you may not be cold.’

  “Hansel and Gretel gathered brushwood together, as high as a little hill. The brushwood was lit, and when the flames were burning very high, the woman said: ‘Now, children, lay yourselves down by the fire and rest. We will go into the forest and cut some wood. When we have finished, we will come back and fetch you away.’

  “Hansel and Gretel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate a little piece of bread. They could hear the strokes of an axe so they believed their father was near. It was not the axe, however, but a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree which the wind was blowing backwards and forwards. They had been sitting such a long time and their eyes closed with fatigue. They fell fast asleep.

  “When at last they awoke, it was already dark. Gretel began to cry and said: ‘How are we to get out of the forest now?’

  “But Hansel comforted her and said: ‘Just wait a little until the moon has risen, and then we will soon find the way.’ And when the full moon had risen, Hansel took his little sister by the hand, and followed the pebbles which shone like newly-coined silver pieces, showing them the way.

  “They walked the whole night long, and by break of day had arrived at their father’s house. They knocked on the door, and when the woman opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Gretel, she said: ‘You naughty children, why have you slept so long in the forest? We thought you were never coming back at all!’ The father, however, rejoiced, for it had cut him to the heart to leave them behind alone.

  “Not long afterwards, there was again great dearth, or drought I suppose, throughout the land, and the children heard their mother saying to their father at night: ‘Everything is eaten again, we have only half of a loaf left, and that is the end. The children must go. We will take them farther into the wood so that they will not find their way out again. There is no other means of saving ourselves!’”

  “He could just take he
r into the woods and leave her there,” Ivo interrupts. “She probably eats as much as two children.”

  “I suppose, but I think she’d be a bit suspicious. It is her plan after all.”

  He nods.

  “Where was I?” I ask.

  “The evil stepmother wants to leave the children in the woods again because they have no food,” he replies.

  “Oh, right. So the man’s heart was heavy, and he thought: ‘It would be better for you to share the last mouthful with your children.’ The woman, however, would listen to nothing he had to say, and instead scolded and reproached him. He had yielded the first time, so he must yield again.

  “But the children were still awake and had heard the conversation. When the parents were asleep, Hansel got up to collect pebbles as he had done before, but the woman had locked the door and he could not get out. Nevertheless, he comforted his little sister, and said: ‘Do not cry, Gretel. Go to sleep quietly. The good Lord will help us.’

  “The stepmother woke them early in the morning and forced them from their beds. A piece of bread was given to them, but it was even smaller than the time before. On the way into the forest, Hansel crumbled his in his pocket, and threw a morsel on the ground every now and then.

  “‘Hansel, why do you stop and look round?’ said the father. ‘Go on.’

  “‘I am looking back at my little pigeon which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say goodbye to me,’ answered Hansel. ‘Fool!’ said the woman, ‘That is not your little pigeon. That is the morning sun that is shining on the chimney.’ Little by little, Hansel threw all the crumbs on the path.

  “The woman led the children deeper into the forest, where they had never in their lives been before. Again, a great fire was made, and the mother said: ‘Just sit there, you children, and when you are tired you may sleep a little. We are going into the forest to cut wood, and in the evening when we are done, we shall come and fetch you away.’

  “When it was noon, Gretel shared her piece of bread with Hansel, who had scattered his by the way. Then they fell asleep and evening passed, but no one came to the poor children. Again, they did not wake until it was night. Hansel comforted his little sister and said: ‘Just wait, Gretel, until the moon rises, and then we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have strewn about. They will show us our way home again.’ When the moon came they set out. But alas, they found no crumbs for the many thousands of birds which flew about in the woods and fields had picked them all up.

  “Hansel said: ‘We shall soon find the way,’ but they did not find it. They walked the whole night and all the next day from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the forest. They were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or three berries, which grew on the ground. When they were so weary their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree and fell asleep.

  “It was now three mornings since they had left their father’s house. They began to walk again, but only got deeper and deeper into the forest. If help did not come soon, they would die of hunger and weariness.

  “It was midday when they saw a beautiful snow white bird sitting on a bough. It sang so delightfully that they stood still and listened to it. And when its song was over, it spread its wings and flew away before them. They followed it until they reached a little house, and the bird alighted on the roof. When they approached the little house they saw that it was built of bread and covered with cakes, but that the windows were made of clear sugar. ‘We will set to work on that,’ said Hansel, ‘and have a good meal. I shall eat a bit of the roof, and you, Gretel, can eat some of the window. It will taste sweet.’”

  “You’re making me hungry,” Ivo interrupts.

  “Do you want to hear the story or not?” I reply.

  “I have a pfennig. Do you have any coins?” he asks. I dig into the pockets of my cloak. “I have four.”

  “Let’s go into Hay Market before it closes and get some bread and cakes,” he says. “Tell me the story as we walk.”

  I nod. “Where was I?” I ask.

  “Hansel is eating the roof and Gretel is eating the window,” he replies.

  “Oh, right.” Ivo stands and reaches a hand to help me up. We walk on toward Kunibert’s gate heading back into the city.

  “So… Hansel reached up above and broke off a little of the roof to see how it tasted, and Gretel leaned against the window and nibbled at the panes.

  “A soft voice cried from the house: ‘Nibble, nibble, gnaw. Who is nibbling at my little house?’” I say in a gruff voice.

  “The children answered: ‘The wind, the wind. The heaven-born wind,’ and went on eating without disturbing themselves. Hansel, who liked the taste of the roof, tore down a great piece of it, and Gretel pushed out a whole round windowpane, sat down, and enjoyed herself with it. Suddenly the door opened, and a woman as old as the hills, who supported herself on crutches, came creeping out.

  “Hansel and Gretel were so terribly frightened that they let

  fall what they had in their hands. The old woman, however, nodded her head, and said: ‘Oh, you dear children, who has brought you here? Do come in and stay with me. No harm shall happen to you.’

  “She took them both by the hand, and led them into her little house. Good food was set before them. Milk and cakes with sugar, apples, and nuts.”

  Ivo’s stomach growls loudly and it startles me. I laugh and he shoves me playfully.

  “I thought someone had let a bear loose!” I tease and shove him back. “Do you think you shall make it to Hay Market or will I have to carry you?”

  “I’m not the one who swoons in the street.” He teases back and I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you going to finish the story or not?”

  “All right. All right.” I say with a giggle as I try to remember my place in the story, but I cannot.

  “The children were eating at the witch’s table.” Ivo prompts.

  “Afterwards, two pretty little beds were covered with clean white linen. Hansel and Gretel lay down in them and thought they were in heaven.

  “The old woman had only pretended to be so kind. In reality, she was a wicked witch who lay in wait for children. She had only built the little house of bread in order to entice them there. When a child fell into her power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that was a feast day for her. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see far, but they have a keen sense of smell like the beasts, and are aware when human beings draw near.

  “When Hansel and Gretel came into her neighborhood, she laughed with malice, and said mockingly to herself: ‘I have them. They shall not escape me!’

  “Early in the morning before the children were awake, she was already up. And when she saw both of them sleeping and looking so pretty with their plump and rosy cheeks she muttered to herself: ‘That will be a dainty mouthful!’ She seized Hansel with her shriveled hand, carried him into a little stable, and locked him behind a grated door. Scream as he might, it would not help him.

  “Then she went to Gretel, shook her till she awoke, and cried: ‘Get up, lazy thing. Fetch some water and cook something good for your brother. He is in the stable outside and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I will eat him.’ Gretel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in vain for she was forced to do what the wicked witch commanded.

  “And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Gretel got nothing but crab shells. Every morning the woman crept to the little stable and cried: ‘Hansel, stretch out your finger that I may feel if you shall soon be fat.’

  “Hansel, however, stretched out a little bone to her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not see it, and believed it was Hansel’s finger. She was astonished there was no way of fattening him up. Four weeks had gone by, and Hansel still remained thin. She was seized with impatience and would not wait any longer. ‘Now then, Gretel,’ she cried to the girl. ‘Stir yourself and bring some water. Let Hansel be fat or lean, for tomorrow I will kill him, and cook him.’

  “Ah,
how the poor little sister did lament when she had to fetch the water, and how her tears did flow down her cheeks! ‘Dear God, do help us,’ she cried. ‘If the wild beasts in the forest had but devoured us, we should at any rate have died together.’

  “‘Just keep your noise to yourself,’ said the old woman. ‘It won’t help you at all.’

  “Early in the morning, Gretel had to hang the cauldron with the water, and light the fire beneath it. ‘We shall bake first,’ said the old woman. ‘I have already heated the oven, and kneaded the dough.’ She pushed poor Gretel out to the oven, from which flames of fire were already darting. ‘Creep in,’ said the witch, ‘and see if it is properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.’

  “Once Gretel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let her bake in it, and then she would eat her too. But Gretel saw what she had in mind and said: ‘I do not know how I am to do it. How do I get in?’

  “‘Silly goose,’ said the old woman. ‘The door is big enough. Just look, I can get in myself!’ She crept up and thrust her head into the oven. Then Gretel gave her a push that drove her far into it, shut the iron door, and fastened the bolt. Oh, how horribly she howled, but Gretel ran away and the godless witch was miserably burnt to death.”

  Ivo laughs at this and I smile.

  “Gretel ran like lightning to Hansel, opened his little stable and cried: ‘Hansel, we are saved! The old witch is dead!’

  “Hansel sprang like a bird from its cage when the door opened. How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance about and kiss each other! As they no longer had any need to fear her, they went into the witch’s house. In every corner stood chests full of pearls and jewels. ‘These are far better than pebbles!’ said Hansel, and thrust into his pockets whatever he could. And Gretel said: ‘I, too, will take something home with me,’ and filled her pockets full.

  “But now we must be off,’ said Hansel, ‘that we may get out of the witch’s forest.’”