Monday, November 29, 2010

I'll Let You Guess :)

I couldn’t have been standing in front of that door for more than a minute, but I swear to God it felt like lifetimes. I could draw it up right now for you if I wanted to—the magnificent cobbled walkway, the stained glass windows with scenes of childhood ecstasy, and the scarlet door that beckoned us forth. I still see it today in my mind, every time I close my eyes. But it’s not the sight that stills me to my core. It’s the smell. That odor that just seemed so wrong.

                It’s hard for me to describe. I guess I’d have to start by saying that it stank like fresh baked angel cake, that warm sweet smell that drives your tongue insane. The scent was almost overwhelming, and it took everything in me to take a deep breath and wait for my knock to be answered.

Only there was more to it than that. Behind that sweet smell was a sickly stench that just licked at the edges of my senses. It felt so out of place that I dismissed it at first. My sister, her eyes so full of wonder, never had a chance. As the wait continued, my thoughts kept flickering to that mysterious smell, masked by the glory of sweet wonders you can’t even imagine. Yet the sights were so magical, and the powerful smells so enticing, that I was convinced that I must be imagining it.

I was ever a pessimistic child. My mother had always told me that one day I’d grow up to be a miserable old man, like the banker. He was a miserly old fellow, who didn’t care much for company, but he was rich and he seemed comfortable enough. Growing up to be like the banker wouldn’t be too bad.

But my mother was dead now, and in her stead, my father had placed a wicked woman who wanted nothing to do with us. She drained my father of all his resources and poisoned his mind while we slept. She convinced him that he could no longer support my sister and me, and being a simple woodcutter, he had no chance in the argument. Still, I don’t pretend that I never wished for a father with more backbone.

Maybe I was right to be so negative all the time, so I thought that it must be the constant doubt that was clouding my opinion about this majestic house.

Surely, this day was different than all the others. We had wandered our way so deep into the forest that we had become lost, and just when we felt that all hope was gone, a puff of smoke sparked a glimmer of hope. My sister climbed a tree, for she was the more adventurous of us, always exploring the woods near our home and mingling with nature. She constantly chided me for acting so old, spending all of my time with my nose in a book or a pen in my hand. It appeared that for once, her wildish ways were to an advantage.

She climbed high into the trees, so high that I eventually couldn’t see her though I could still hear her rustling through the branches. I waited patiently at the foot of that great elm. It took her longer to reach the top than I envisioned, and the gurgling of my stomach reminded me that we hadn’t eaten since breakfast. It was tough to tell in such a dense forest, but I estimated that it was approaching dinner time. I silently cursed myself for not bringing along a basket of goods, but escaping with just ourselves had been difficult enough.

Eventually, the rustling stopped and a whistle called my attention. I whipped my head in her direction and heard her call, though it was muffled by the leaves: “There’s a house not too far from here. If we hurry we can make it before dark.”

Her guess turned out to be accurate, and we arrived just as the sun was setting. The final blaze of light illuminated the house in all its beauty, and it is here where we return to the start of this story.

The door opened and any thoughts I had of strange smells disappeared with the sunset. A hooded woman stood in the doorway, her back bent so low that I had to kneel to see her face. I regret that kneel almost immediately. An ugly, wrinkled face, tinged a light greenish hue greeted my eyes, and I had to swallow a shudder. She coughed violently, spraying phlegm onto my cheek. I fell back in disgust, but my sister rushed forward to take the old woman by the arm. The woman whispered something into my sister’s ear, and my sister then led her into the house. I had no choice but to follow.

I stepped through the doorway and was instantly blinded by the smell. I know it sounds strange, to be blinded by a scent, but I’m telling you the truth—my eyes were forced shut and my body was engulfed with rapture. I’m still not entirely sure what happened next, but the next thing I remember is tripping over what I prayed was an animal bone and falling onto my hands. When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by thick metal bars. After my initial bewilderment, I glanced up and saw the old woman, her back now straight, smiling viciously at me. She licked her lips and then slammed the cage door shut. I threw myself at the cage door, but it was no use. All I accomplished was a bruised shoulder.

The next few weeks were the most terrifying of my life. Thank the Lord that the woman was blind because otherwise I wouldn’t be talking to you right now. She began giving me loads of delicious food, which I accepted eagerly at first, until I took a closer look at the bones that littered the floor. There was no doubt; they were human bones. She was trying to fatten me up.

My sister was enlisted into the old woman’s service. She was so intoxicated by the old woman’s sweets that she obliviously assisted my demise. She even helped the woman brew the stew that I was to be cooked in. I delayed my death by holding out a bone to the blind woman, ensuring her that I was not gaining weight. She took the bone to be my emaciated finger, and for a time, she waited. Her patience eventually waned, and she turned her sights on an entrée of an entirely different flavor: my sister.

The old woman lured my sister to the stove, promising the treats of her wildest dreams if she would come check the temperature. My sister was easily swayed and almost skipped to the stove. She lowered her head towards the opening and just when I was sure that she would be thrust into the glowing embers, my sister jumped back and shoved the witch into the oven.

The old woman’s howls were silenced as my sister shut the stove door. My sister then rushed over to me and unlocked my prison. I appreciated it, but I was also extremely frustrated. “Why did you wait so long to save me?”

My sister looked at me with pursed lips. “You were getting fed, weren’t you?”

I was silent for a moment and thought about that. I certainly wasn’t going to be able to get food anywhere else. My father had kicked me out of his house, and I had no other family to speak of. I smiled and glanced at my little sister, “You’re a clever one. You are.”

She smiled satisfactorily and said, “Thanks.” Then she tugged me up. My muscles felt like they were on fire as they stretched properly for the first time in weeks. I made my way towards the door, but my sister pulled my arm. I asked her, “What are you doing?”

Her eyes pinched inward. “What am I doing,” she asked. “More like where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “You want to stay here?”

My sister chuckled. “We have a house now! And wait until you taste this candy.” With that, she took off running up the stairs of the little house. Our home.

The sickly smell lingered as the witch broiled in the oven, but after a few weeks the smell was gone. We never did open that stove again, but there was another one.

We still bake that angel cake, hoping that if there are any lost children in the woods, they will find their way to our house.

1 comment:

  1. I guessed this one right away, something about the delicious, sicky smell...yuck. Nice job.

    ReplyDelete