To my short story, That Cottage in the Woods:

We left off with Gretel finding the witch’s grimoire… Who was the poor soul who’d lost their skin for this one?

            Shuddering, I forced myself to open it. The script was long and elegant, almost beguiling to the eye. Her name, I dared not repeat it, flowed across the page. The next page was a table of contents. Quickly I scanned down the list. There was no spell for how to find food. The closest I could see was how to beguile animals. If I could get one animal every few days to go near or in the traps, while we’d still be hungry, we wouldn’t starve and it wouldn’t raise Hansel’s suspicions like a pot of stew that never emptied.

            I turned to the numbered page, my cloth covered finger gliding down the list of ingredients. If I wanted rabbits, I needed a rabbit’s bone. I could dig one up from the refuse pile we buried. Black spider carcasses were no problem, they were always coming in to escape the cold. I could find some grass as snow didn’t fall under the denser trees. The other ingredients were just as easily found.

            I took a deep breath. I could do this, but I would have to hurry in case Hansel got lucky and came back. I gathered all the ingredients and put them in a crude clay bowl I’d made. It was very fragile, as I couldn’t get the fireplace hot enough to set the clay. But that would change as soon as I stoked up the oven and fired several. Tonight would be good; we’d be warm and have dishes. Hansel would balk, but if I was only baking clay bowls… what could be the harm? I set the bowl on a shelf in the kitchen, under others so if Hansel grabbed one he wouldn’t see my ingredients and ask about them; there was no good recipe using black spider carcasses. The last thing I needed was a cup of water poured under the new moon. That wasn’t for at least two days. Somehow, we had to hang on. If there was no food until then, I might have to tell him about the grimoire. Maybe Hansel would be desperate enough and urge me to use it—but he’d be angry with me for concealing it all this time.

            At the stream I filled the bucket and the little pitcher. I walked back taking a different route and stumbled upon both black walnuts and acorns. I dumped out the bucket to hold all the nuts. We could eat the meats. Tomorrow, I would collect more. With enough dried, I could grind them into flour for bread. How many other things had Hansel passed without knowing they could be eaten? I couldn’t blame him, he didn’t know.

            But we would still need game meat.

            Hansel was there when I got back, a scrawny rabbit stretched out on the table, ready for the spit.

            “Nice! Look what I found!” I showed him my treasure, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

            “It’s not enough. I had to hike really far. Maybe tomorrow we should return to the village and beg for food.”

            I slammed the bucket onto the table and grabbed the gutted rabbit. “No! they will either kill us, or chase us down, then kill us!” I placed the rabbit on the spit and hung it over the fire. “We’re good for a few days. I’ll go back out tomorrow and see what else I can forage.”

            We wouldn’t need the grimoire just yet, but maybe I should check for what other help it could render.

            When Hansel left to check the traps again, I drew out the book. In the back was a list of edible roots, nuts, leaves, and fruits available through the various seasons. This could be a lifesaver, provided I could find anything on the list. I memorized the drawings.

            By the river, near the swampy area, I dug up curly docks and cattail roots, and then on the ground under the trees, dandelions. All these we could eat. As I roamed in an ever-widening circle, I discovered a few wild berries, and gathered all the nuts I could find that weren’t rotted or chewed. The last discovery near a moss-covered fallen tree were mushrooms. Such a savory stew I could make, if I only had a proper pot. Just the thought made my mouth water.

            I hauled my loot home.

            “What do you have?” Hansel peered over my shoulder as I dropped the bag on the table.

            I jumped. How could I suddenly explain that I knew which leaves and roots were safe to eat?

            “I remember the baker’s wife showing me plants that were safe to eat,” I lied. “And I gathered all the nuts I could. I can dry them out and if I grind them into flour, I can make bread. See?”

            “Bread!” A greedy look crossed his face, it had been so long since we’d had any.

            “Well, it won’t be like the baker’s, I don’t have any yeast.”

            “When can you make it?” He sounded like an eager boy and it almost made me laugh.

            “As soon as you find me two stones big enough to grind the dried nuts.” I looked toward the fireplace; no game hung on the spit. I didn’t let him see my disappointment. Tonight we’d eat dandelion leaves with some onions.

            A pained look crossed Hansel’s face. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything back.”

            My smile was overly bright as I patted his arm. “Things will change, don’t worry.” I hid the trepidation that churned within my breast.

            When Hansel snored deeply on his pallet, I snuck out the door with the pitcher of water and my knapsack. Without moonlight, all I had was a small burning stick from the fireplace to guide me—and warn me of any approaching danger. We hadn’t seen any wolves, deer, squirrels, or even an owl, which surprised me. Did the evil still linger? Trees and plants thrived, I saw no shriveled or blackened areas except for where we burned the witch’s things. But there was…a feeling of something not…as it should be. I couldn’t put my finger on it. There was no dread or fear, just a sense of unease, waiting? I shook my head to clear the unsettling thoughts and walked to a small clearing open under starry sky.

            Sinking the glowing stick in the ground, I poured water from the pitcher into the cup. It was the final ingredient for the spell to draw rabbits to Hansel’s traps. I made the potion in the rough bowl and hesitating only a moment, said the inscribed words that I’d memorized.

            Nothing happened. Not a bubbling or puff of smoke or even a spark of color. I had no way to know if it worked. And now, I had to find a way to get Hansel to put a few drops in the traps. I couldn’t say it was simply water, and I couldn’t find them in the dark by myself. I’d have to go with him tomorrow when he checked.

            “Hansel, I want to go with you when you check the traps. Maybe there are more nuts or mushrooms, things we can eat.”

            He’d been cutting firewood. I held out a cup of water to him. He set aside the axe and drank. “I’m almost done.” He smiled at me. “It will be nice to have company.”

            I returned his smile but I felt like a schemer for not being completely honest. Yes, I’d forage, but I’d also put the potion on the traps. Inwardly, I sighed. I had to use the potion. Hansel’s gurgling and sunken stomach, so like my own, only confirmed my belief.

            We left soon after. I trailed a little behind, carrying the bucket with some of the potion, but covered over with a cloth. The first trap, the closest to the cottage, was empty. He shook his head and waved me away.

            “See if there’s anything around here to eat.”

            I made a pretense of looking, since a quick glance told me that there wasn’t anything to gather. When he took off for the next trap, I hurriedly sprinkled a few drops in the trap then ran to catch up. I only had enough of the potion for three traps, but on the fourth, a distance from the cottage, I found more nuts and dandelion and sassafras leaves.

            “Look, Hansel! I can make us some tea!”

            He grunted. “We have no pot to boil the water.”

            I tramped behind him, silent, for the rest of the traps. All were empty. It was a tense walk back to the cottage.

            Now was as good as any time to bring up using the oven.

            “NO!” he screamed after I explained.

            I waited patiently while he ranted, storming around the place. He threw himself into a chair, one he’d fashioned from branches himself.

            “Hansel, I cleaned it out. Her bones and ashes are buried in a rock hole. I’ve burned wood in there seven times, a lucky number. It’s safe to use for firing clay plates and bowls.”

            “Does it matter if we have plates and bowls when we’ll starve in the next few days?” His tirade, as well as the trek to check the traps, left him exhausted. I was too, but I couldn’t let him see that. I set a fire in the oven and dragged down the roughly fashioned pottery. With a growl, Hansel stormed out the door.

            I rubbed my tired eyes. He needed time to accept our dire situation. While I waited for the oven to heat, I ground nuts with the large flat stone and smaller rounded one Hansel found near the river. Maybe he went to fish or wandered the forest. He was gone long enough that the first bowls were cooling when he returned. They looked to be serviceable, and I now could make more. If we survived.

            Hansel didn’t talk to me that night and refused to eat anything I put in the newly fired bowl. He grabbed a handful of the dandelion leaves and nuts, then stormed out.

            He was gone the next morning when I awoke. I cleaned the cottage, laying in fresh pine branches for our beds and then ground more nuts. I had a small mound of flour but would need a bit more for even a tiny loaf.

            The door flung open. I jumped. Hansel stood there, a triumphant gleam in his eye. He held up his hands holding a clump of rabbits.

            “Look, Gretel! And this is just from the first two traps!”

            Thanks to magic, we wouldn’t starve.

            “Oh, Hansel, I’m going to make the best meal you’ve ever had!”

            “I’ll clean them outside. One for each of us!” Beaming, he turned around and went outside.

            I closed my eyes in relief.

            “I don’t understand why suddenly there are so many rabbits! For weeks, nothing, now, they fill the traps!” Hansel opened a trap and let the rabbits scamper away. We couldn’t eat them all.

            “Maybe just leave one trap open every other day?” I suggested, dropping my eyes so he wouldn’t see my panic. “Maybe they were frightened this way by…wolves. Or a fire in another part of the forest.”

            He shook his head, confused. “Maybe.” His sudden smile startled me.

            “I can take them to the other village and sell them! Then we could buy the things we need, like clothes, pots, a grinding stone for the axe!”

            I was leery going to any town and he must have seen it on my face.

            He grabbed my arms. “The people in a village in the opposite direction of where we were wouldn’t know what we looked like, and I’ve grown since then. If I go alone, they shouldn’t think of us.”

            He was so excited that I didn’t want to turn him down, and we did need things like a cooking pot, since we couldn’t use the witch’s. I chewed my lip, undecided.

            “Come on, Gretel, I can get you sewing needles, warm gloves, and a thick wool shawl. And blankets!”

            Now he was tempting me.

            With a sigh I nodded. He whooped and I forced a smile.

            He set all the traps and fashioned a cage that he could wear on his back. He collected as many as he could. The next day he would leave just after sunrise to sell as many as he could, maybe trade with the others.

            We awoke early.

            “Well, I’m off!” He carried a stout walking stick to fend off any danger.

            “I’ll walk with you to the stream.”

            He rested a hand on my arm. “You’ll be all right alone?”

            I nodded. “After I get water, I’ll go straight back to the cottage. Bring back a pot if you want stew. And see if you can get any vegetables.”

            I waved goodbye at the stream then bent to wash up and fill both pitcher and cup.

            “Gretel!”

            My head jerked up. Hansel strode toward me and I rose. “Why did you come back, is something wrong?” He had no wounds. He could not have reached the village and come back that quickly.

            “Why are you following— How did I get back here?”

            “Did you get lost?” That was silly, Hansel never got lost; he got us out of the forest when we escaped from the witch.

            “I’ve made a circle…” He shook his head. “I made a wrong turn somewhere. I’ll try a different way.”

            Two more times he ended up back at the stream.

            His eyes darkened with fear. “It’s the witch’s magic! It’s made us prisoners!”

            I grabbed my skirt. “But we escaped before!”

            Deep in my heart, I knew I was to blame. I had to check the grimoire.

            He turned in circles, squinting into the distance.

            “Come back to the cottage, Hansel.” It was my tone of voice that gave me away.

            “What did you do, Gretel? Tell me!”

            I took a deep, steadying breath, but still my knees shook. “We were starving, I had to do it!”

            He shook me. “What did you do, Gretel?”

            The words rushed out. “I used the witch’s grimoire to lure animals to the traps.”

            His bellow echoed in the forest, but it disturbed no birds.

            “Maybe I can undo this, let me check the grimoire again.”

            He stomped away, not waiting for me. When he reached the cottage, he opened the cage, setting the rabbits free. We both knew the traps would be full again tomorrow. Inside, I pulled the book from its hiding spot. As usual, I did not touch it with my bare hands. He watched me flip the pages, reading.

            I dropped into the chair.

            “Tell me what we need to do, then we are going to burn that evil book!” He slammed his fist on the table, making the bowls and plates jump.

            My voice was a whisper. “It says that once anyone uses the magic, they are doomed to remain here unless one person is sacrificed, and another takes their place.”

            Hansel was to have been the sacrifice, I would remain, bound to this place, which would set the witch free. But she had become the sacrifice, and the magic lured us back.

            Adults knew better than to approach a strange cottage in the woods, but children…

            If we ever wanted to be free, we would have to lure children.

            Just as she had done.

If you would like this story, along with others with the ‘not happily ever after’ theme, you can find it on Amazon:

Don’t know what’s in store for next week, but stop in! (In the meantime, I’ll be trying to figure out how to get my videos posted on my site.)