by Hal Bodner
Once home, she was disappointed with her brother’s reaction to the goodies she had brought for him. She delved into her new cookbooks with gusto, creating little culinary masterpieces for his pleasure. But Hansel took no delight in his food. Even with all the care Gretel took to make sure he did not see the kinds of meat she used for her roasts and stews and barbeques, even when she outright lied to him as to the source, he was reluctant to eat. Eventually, she was forced to place small morsels into his mouth and physically move his jaw so that he chewed. She found an old wineskin and filled it with water and, by holding his mouth shut, she could squeeze enough past his clenched teeth so he had a choice of swallowing or choking. Only thus was she able to care for him.
At some point, from sheer desperation, she even resorted to leafing through her cookbooks for a gingerbread recipe. She baked up a huge batch of the hated stuff and joy filled her heart when Hansel nibbled at a few morsels. But he was so thin by then, so very thin. His stomach must have shrunken and he couldn’t eat much. Still, perhaps slowly, she could build up his strength.
As for the leftover gingerbread, though she could not bear to eat it herself, she felt it a shame to let it go to waste. Fortunately, since the roof leaked slightly, she knew what to do. As much as she hated the sight of gingerbread, she found a weird satisfaction in plastering the shingles into place with icing. Once that task was complete, she found herself eying the bare wood siding of the house and considering how she might repair it. It had been a long time since the cottage had been properly maintained and seemed a pity she had let it deteriorate so far.
For a few days, she did nothing. Her hands were full enough trying to look after her failing brother. At night however, in her dreams she found herself fixing things, tending to the cottage with loving care. It was not something she particularly wanted to do, it was something she had to do, but at whose behest or for whose benefit, she could not say. A subtle compulsion began working at her will. She knew not the source but she could not fight it. The only relief—the only happiness—she could find lay in baking, baking large batches of gingerbread with which she slowly began to restore the house.
First, she finished patching the shingles on the roof, then she replaced the slats of the fence, and mended the trim around the cottage windows and doors. As she labored, she found she enjoyed the creativity her work provided. She often mixed berry juice into the icing mortar to provide a little color to the house or molded a small curlicue from marzipan to add interest to a stretch of trim under the eaves. Over time, the house began to look much as it had when she and Hansel first arrived. As she continued making improvements of her own devising, it began looking even better.
The work took her mind off her brother’s plight, though she still loved him and remained deeply worried about him. But his importance to her slowly took second place to the passionate desire to restore the house. For some time, she lay awake nights, wondering where she would find candy with which to decorate as her predecessor had done. There was only so much she could do with baked goods, and the woodland birds simply would not leave the sugar cookies alone. Icing swirls were very lovely, of course, but a peppermint trim would be divine!
During her travels, she happened upon seven little men dragging a cart laden with a fortune in jewels they’d dug from the depths of a nearby cave. She confiscated the bounty and, when they objected, she made sausages as none of them yielded a decent-sized steak. She had hopes their female charge would provide some welcome assistance with the daily cooking and cleaning of the Gingerbread Cottage. However, the girl was completely useless. Since Gretel had no patience for teaching her the proper way to do things, she ended up in the larder next to the remains of the impertinent maiden who used to live in a high tower, and who had not a single redeeming thing about her, save for the lovely long hair Gretel had used to weave the new curtains.
It was not until she stumbled across a stranded pumpkin coach that her domestic problems were finally solved. The ragamuffin girl, sobbing her heart out, who she discovered sitting inside was quickly silenced. Afterward, the forest creatures that had gathered in droves outside the ruined conveyance followed Gretel home and, once there, immediately set in to work with gusto. The squirrels and mice swept the cottage clean. The rabbits kept the vegetable garden well-planted and free of weeds. The raccoons, deer, and larger animals somehow managed to rebuild the barn and the stables. Rather than question their motives, Gretel simply accepted the unexpected gift of the extra free time and put it to use working on improving the Gingerbread House.
Over the years, she carved out quite a nice lifestyle for herself and Hansel. She added eight swans to the small pond just beyond the cottage and several lily pads for frogs to perch upon. Between the two, and with the help of a particular spell from a book she’d found in the witch’s attic, they more than sufficed to fill her needs as a woman when necessary.
Even better, during one of her lengthier treks through the woods, she came across a fairy ring made of mushrooms and toadstools. Returning the following night with the spell book, she found a way to capture a few of the tiny winged creatures. In exchange for their freedom, they were more than happy to provide her with candy which Gretel joyfully used to trim the house and decorate the garden. The fairies were too small, of course, to carry as much candy as Gretel would have liked at any one time. However, as they were creatures of habit and not particularly intelligent, it never occurred to them to move the ring. Consequently, she always knew where to find them, and had no difficulty catching and releasing them, over and over, whenever she ran out of sugar plums or candy canes or gum drops.
As for Hansel, though her love for him never waned, she found it more and more difficult to care for him. Sometimes, her obsession with fixing the cottage would cause her almost to forget he was still around. Then, in a burst of guilt she would remember and rush to unlock the cage and cradle her brother in her arms while she tried futilely to feed him. In spite of all her coaxing, Hansel consistently refused to cooperate.
One day, Gretel was standing in the front yard when she suddenly knew the house was finally finished. It was indeed a marvel of gingerbread and candy perfection needing only to be maintained. Thrilled with her discovery, she rushed inside to tell her brother the exciting news but she could not get him to muster any display of interest. Saddened and slightly miffed at his refusal to share in her great joy, she was startled to hear the front gate creak open followed by an alarming snapping sound.
She rushed outside and, to her great dismay, she found two young children in her front yard, a boy and a girl. Frozen with shock and horror, she watched as the little brats proceeded to eat part of her house! Furious and appalled, she nonetheless summoned a smile and invited the children inside where, she promised, there were far better things to eat.
Blindly trusting, they followed her. She made short work of the girl but the little boy was very skinny and, in some indefinable way, he reminded her of Hansel as he had been so long ago. She silenced the youngster’s screams without hurting him too badly. Then, with the heaviest heart she’d ever known, she kissed her brother gently on the forehead and, with her favorite broom in hand, she sadly began to sweep out the cell which had been Hansel’s home for so long.
Once finished, she placed little boy tenderly into the cage and set out a tray of yummy things for him to eat when he awakened. Yes, the child was far too thin for her liking. There was no question she would need to fatten him up. In the meantime, there was the damage to the front of the house to repair, not to mention salting and preparing the sister for the larder before she began to stink.
So much to do, so very much to do! Yet something was missing from the cottage, some undefinable something that was absent from the place. Puzzled and unable to put her finger on just what, Gretel sat for a long time, thinking while scratching a small wart on her chin. Suddenly, she had it! Even with the arrival of her new guest, the house seemed empty and oddly hollow. It was a beautiful cottage, to be sure
, clean and comfortable. But her home lacked a certain … warmth.
And she knew just how to fix the problem. Why, the answer was simplicity itself! She would fill the air with a wonderful, enticing smell, a lovely smell any child would surely respond to. She had only to whip up a nice batch of gingerbread.
About the Author
Hal Bodner is the author of the best-selling gay vampire novel, Bite Club, and the lupine sequel, The Trouble with Hairy. He tells people he was born in East Philadelphia because no one knows where Cherry Hill, New Jersey is. The obstetrician who delivered him was C. Everet Coop, the future US Surgeon General who put warnings on cigarette packs. Thus, from birth, Hal was destined to become a heavy smoker. He moved to West Hollywood in the 1980s and has rarely left the city limits since. He cannot even find his way around Beverly Hills—which is the next town over. Hal has been an entertainment lawyer, a scheduler for a 976 sex telephone line, a theater reviewer and the personal assistant to a television star. For a while, he owned Heavy Petting, a pet boutique where all the movie stars shopped for their Pomeranians. Until recently, he owned an exotic bird shop.
He has never been a waiter. He lives with assorted dogs, and birds, the most notable of which is an eighty year old irritable, flesh-eating military macaw named after his icon—Tallulah. He often quips he is a slave to fur and feathers and regrets only that he isn’t referring to mink and marabou. He does not have cats because he tends to sneeze on them.
Having reached middle-age, he remembers Nixon.
He was widowed in his early forties and can sometimes be found sunbathing at his late partner’s grave while trying to avoid cemetery caretakers screaming at him to put his shirt back on.
Hal has also written a few erotic paranormal romances—which he refers to as “supernatural smut”—most notably In Flesh and Stone and For Love of the Dead. While his salacious imagination is unbounded, he much prefers his comedic roots and he is currently pecking away at a series of bitterly humorous gay super hero novels.
He married again—this time legally—a wonderful man who is young enough not to know that Liza Minnelli is Judy Garland’s daughter. As a result, Hal has recently discovered that the use of hair dye is rarely an adequate substitute for Viagra.
Hal’s website is www.wehovampire.com and he encourages fans to send him email at [email protected]. It may take him a month or so, but he generally responds to almost everyone who writes to him with the sole exception of prisoners who request free copies of his books accompanied by naked pictures.
Other Anthologies By Angelic Knight Press
The Satan’s Toy Box Trilogy
Demonic Dolls
Toy Soldiers
Terrifying Teddies
Fading Light: An Anthology of the Monstrous
Manifesto UF
Songs of the Satyrs
Table of Contents
Song of Bones
Red
Sweetheart,the Dream Is Not Yet Ended
Crumbs
A Thrice Spun Tale
His Heart’s Desire
Little Beauty
Hare’s Tale
The Golden Goose
A Prick of the Quill
Sacrificed
The Glass Coffin
The Price of the Sea
A Blue Light Turned Black
Let Down Your Hair
The Wolf Who Cried Boy
It Comes at Night
Bloodily Ever After
Al-Adrian and the Magic Lamp
The Fisherman and His Wife
Rum’s Daughter
The Ash Maid’s Revenge
Gingerbread