Le Petit Chaperon Rouge
The early spring rains had pooled below the canopies created by the bows of the towering great maples and oaks that lined the gorge. Torrents of water ebbed and flowed on the forest floor, fighting a losing battle against gravity, and then finally, fatefully, streamed silently over the mossy outcrop and mixed undistinguished with the river below.
The red splash of colour was a bold statement contradictory to the greener so prevailing throughout the forest. The young girl who wore the red oiled cloak, moved lightly and easily amongst the rocks and roots that created a maze of obstacles in her path. She had long, auburn hair, tied up to keep it out of her heart shaped face, large piercing green eyes and delicate lips. The hood of her cloak was pulled up and taunt, trying unfailingly to keep as much of the rain and secondary water from soaking the occupant any more than necessary.
The young girls name was Virginia, she carried a small covered whickered basket over her one shoulder, within which she had lovingly placed fresh home baked bread, strawberry preserves, and a pie, made with the last of the apples from the root cellar. She walked, the half-day walk to her Grandmother’s cottage with purpose, it had been a fortnight since she had last visited and her Grandmother had been out of sorts, but spring planting had kept Virginia’s young life too busy to make the journey. She hurried her step a bit, spurned on by her sudden thoughts of regret and guilt.
The rain had slowed, becoming a fine mist that hung in the air, reminiscent of a fragile spray one might encounter when venturing too close to a thundering waterfall. The leaves had stopped their partnered dance as the dying wind fled back to where it first began, a few fervent birds chirped to their mates as they began to seek out the worms torn so violently from their subterranean homes.
The forest floor, containing the soil, the pooled water, the decaying autumn leaves and the young shoots that strained towards the hidden sun, muffled a rhythmic padding of feet that advanced steadily towards Virginia. The air was still cool as the sun still lay hidden behind the retreating storm clouds, the breath of the beast that disturbed the forest floor, steamed as it was expelled through a lopping grin of primeval jaws.
Virginia abruptly halted in her step. The carpeting of puddles, leaves and twigs beneath her small feet gurgled as her black boots sank into its depths, the rustling of the fabrics of her cloak and dress stopped as she did. She quieted her breathing; her green eyes darted around looking for something out of the ordinary. She tilted her head and listened, her hand reaching into the pocket of her cloak and grasped the handle of the knife held within. Something wasn’t right thought Virginia.
“Young lady, if I may enquire, where is it you are off to?” spoke a malevolent voice directly behind Virginia.
Virginia drew the knife as she spun swiftly on the heels of her boots, loose strands of her hair cascaded over her eyes, distorting her vision for a moment, but she could still recognize what was there before her. Seated nonchalantly on its haunches, as if it was the omnipotent master of all the forest contained, was a large, imposing grey wolf. The wolf’s fur was matted heavily with water, and it trickled in a steady stream from the beast’s throat. Virginia blinked a few times, and tilted her head as she examined the creature before her, “Excuse me?” she asked in a voice stronger then she felt.
Words dripping from its long tongue the wolf smiled and leaned forward, “I said, if I may enquire? Where is it you are off to?”
Virginia adjusted her footing in the water soaked mud beneath her feet, her boots made small sucking sounds as she freed them from the mire, but she had to ensure mobility if the wolf advanced upon her. “Why sir, would you require such information?” She replied.
As if contemplating the inquiry the wolf cocked its head, its large unblinking black eyes locked and never leaving Virginia’s own. His ears twitched as he spoke, “My Love, I consider myself the guardian of these woods, I protect those who walk its paths, that is the duty charged to me by the gods.”
The blade Virginia held before her dripped with rain water, the well worn leather wrapped handle had become soaked with both water and her sweat, but her petite hand never wavered. Delicate fingers, displaying white knuckles held fast. “I question your authority Sir, and I do beg your pardon, however, as such, I decline to answer.”
The black eyes of the wolf narrowed slightly, its leg muscles tensed and quivered, though the beast made no other noticeable movements, it inclined its head slightly, “As you wish, but I would advise you to be vigilant on your travels, these woods contain many dangers.” With those last spoken words, the wolf turned and disappeared along a hidden trail that vanished into the damp underbrush of the forest.
Virginia remained where she was for a moment, watching the back of the wolf as it retreated, and then with a small rustling disturbing the undergrowth as it weaved its way through, it was gone. The forest returned to its normal self. She dried the knife on her cloak, returned it into her pocket, twisted on her heels, and continued her journey to her grandmothers.
It was just short of midday when the trail Virginia followed came upon the clearing where sat her Grandmother’s small well kept limestone cottage. The finely thatched roof steamed as the sun, now visible after a victorious battle with the clouds, streamed down to provide sustenance of both heat and light to the forest. Small wisps of smoke did aerial aerobatics as it was freed from the small chimney, and then when the dance was over, died on the wind.
The rhythmic clicking of Virginia’s boots on the nearly dry flagstone pathway she walked seemed to be carried unencumbered by the air itself, she stopped at a sturdy door, white oak, dark with age and wear, cut and seasoned from the surrounding forest many decades in the past. Virginia took hold of the bronze door knocker, shaped like the old man of the river, decorated with oak leaves and creatures of faire; it was corroded green with age and mystic. She pounded on the door, her hand vibrated through the force, as she felt, more than heard the echo reverberate off the interior stone walls of the cottage.
“Come in”, spoke a voice from within the cottage. Virginia took hold of the handle and clicked the latch open. As expected the door was heavy, but it swung easily inwards, the ancient solid iron hinges were well tended and oiled, they gave no more than a low mournful groan as the door traversed.
Virginia crossed the threshold into a single room. The lighting was imperfect, smoke hung list fully in the air, the two windows were both closed with the drapes drawn tight, the combined smell of multiple herbs were very noticeable, as they hung dry from every conceivable location the ceiling had to offer. To her right was the chimney with a small smoldering fire to take the dampness from the air, to its left an old set of pine shelves lined with last years canning, an odd assortment of tableware and a couple of misbegotten cobwebs. The large Oak table, to the right of the chimney, its grains dark with care, love and age, was dashed haphazardly white with bits of flour, otherwise it stood empty.
Virginia lowered her load onto the table and turned to face the rear of the cottage. It was well organized and reasonably tidy; an imposing yellow painted pine dresser against the one wall was decorated with mass produced stenciled works of flowers, though it was dwarfed by the armoire, butted against it Along the remaining wall sat a simple bed of black iron, covered with an odd assortment of quilts and blankets, the largest part of which had seen much better days. Burrowed beneath the bedding was a solitary figure, though all that was visible was a head covered by a flowered nightcap.
“Good afternoon Gran”, spoke Virginia as she walked to the bedside, “I do hope you’re feeling better, but being in bed this time of the day, makes me question that assumption.”
“Don’t you worry your head little one, I’m fine. Bit of a chill is all”, came the reply.
Her boots scuffing, Virginia stopped short of the bed. She stared intently at the figure before her, with the combined smoke and meager lighting it was extremely difficult to distinguish details, but she did see a pair of exceptionally large black eyes intently looking back at her. “Why Gran, what large eyes you have.” Virginia rebalanced her weight between her feet and causally slipped her hands into her pockets as she spoke.
The figure smiled intensely, “Oh sweetheart, that’s only so I can see you better”.
Virginia’s full lips had gone dry, she swallowed hard, not taking hers eyes from the face in the bed, her tongue licked her lips moist again. “Gran, what rather large ears you have”.
Countless rows of glistening white teeth from yet another smile came from above the quilts, “My dear that is so I can hear you better.”
Virginia purposefully slowed and regulated her breathing, she inched back a small handful of steps away from the bed. “Gran, what large teeth you seem to have”.
When one carelessly drops a glass or falls off a stool, there is a moment in time, where the guiding laws and principles of the universe pause, and for but a brief instant we see the consequences of our actions, though impossible as it may appear, time slows for scarcely a heartbeat or two, then rushes with all its pent-up intensity at us yet again.
The figure in the bed exploded into motion in a burst of ripped quilts and blankets, scores of feathers and patchwork, took flight to the air as the wolf launched itself. Virginia twisted her body hard to the right, claws ripping her cloak as it did and the wolf shot past her. The wolf skidded on the wooden floor, scratching the polish loving applied, and without pause, spun and faced Virginia. It eyed her calculatingly, a bead of saliva hung motionless from its gapping jaws, he panted, “I told you young Miss, these woods are dangerous for the likes of you. You should have listened to me.”
Her heart beating ferociously, sweat forming on her forehead, Virginia held her ground. “You had best leave dear Sir”, she said staring into the wolfs eyes, “You are unwelcome in this household, and I would ask you to please depart.”
The wolf’s response was to propel itself forward once again, claws racking deeply into Virginia’s side this time, as she side stepped aside avoiding the latest attack. Droplets of her blood begin to fall onto the floor, making a shockingly beautiful patterns of colours and designs when mixed with the wood grains. Her eyes flashed with the twin sister’s, pain and fury, as she twisted to stare at the wolf.
The wolf panted deeply, gasping for air, its tongue hung from the corner of its mouth, a trail of saliva dripping onto the floor, bit by bit, its grey fur standing erect on its back, it crept towards Virginia, trying to close the distance between them.
Green eyes never leaving the wolf’s own, her boots clicking rhythmically on the floor, Virginia moved backwards, only to be stopped suddenly and unceremoniously short by the oak table. It didn’t move. Barely audible she spoke softly to the wolf, “Don’t”, was all she said.
The wolf smiled, its jaws well lubricated with its growing accumulation of salvia, a primordial growl of hell coming from somewhere deep within itself rose and escaped from its mouth, “Mine”, he whispered and then hurdled himself for Virginias exposed frail throat, willing himself to tear it apart.
The moment the wolf left the ground Virginia stepped forward, and dropped herself to the floor, while at the same time driving the knife upwards catching the wolf in its exposed underside. The momentum of the wolf drove the knife in, hilt deep, and tore through intestines and organs, spilling the wolfs life blood everywhere. Virginia rolled to her side as the wolf connected with the table and collapsed onto the floor in a crushed heap of flesh, bone and blood. Virginia watched intently as it breathing came in staggered gasps, blood pooling and congealing beneath it, its large black eyes still on her, the life dimmed slowly from them, and then was extinguished.
A loud pounding from the armoire startled Virginia out of her haze; she rose unsteadily to her feet and went to investigate.