MJ#5 Hansel and Gretel Revamped

"G'morning papa!" cried Hansel.

"G'morning papa!" cried Gretel.

"G'morning little ones!" the woodcutter playfully tousled his two children's' hair.

"Oh stop it!  We don't want the neighbors thinking we're so poor our children don't know how to brush their hair," sniffed the ever-pleasurable Volindra.

The woodcutter quickly withdrew his hand from the scathing look his second wife had turned upon him.

"I'm sorry my love," he whimpered in her direction.

"Although we may as well be that poor. I don't see how you expect me to fix breakfast with half a loaf of bread."

"I-"

"Go on! Get to work!"

"But-"

"Move!"

With a sigh at the lack of breakfast and pleasantness in the house, the poor woodcutter took his leave.

"And as for you little scoundrels," Volindra scowled, "No breakfast until you're done with your chores."

The little girl and the little boy looked sadly at the empty dishes before them and scooted off their little stools.  They scrubbed the floor and weeded the garden and swept the chimney and performed countless other menial tasks that their stepmother thought up while she munched on the bread.  Volindra finally tired of watching her husband's children slave away when the woodcutter trudged in, eyes bright with the prospect of food.

The little boy and girl darted towards him with the intention of wrapping their tiny limbs around his legs, but the boy tripped over the stool and Volindra's favourite vase tumbled to the somewhat shiny floor.

"That is it! Out! Out! You little demons!  How dare you break the only thing worth anything in this house..." [Insert lecture here]. After a passionate and somewhat venomous dialogue, the stepmother finally tired of hearing her own voice and turned to her husband declaring, "YOU."

"Me?"

"Take them into the woods and let them wander around until someone else finds them.  We have too many mouths to feed."

"But-"

"NOW."

Downtrodden but in no way willing to face the wrath of his second wife, the woodcutter obliged and led his children out of the house.  On the way out the door, he slipped the remnants of the bread into his son's pocket.  The children followed the woodcutter deep into the forest.  As they went, Hansel dribbled a trail of bread crumbs to lead them back home.  Too bad the birds of the forest were hungry too.

After many teary hugs and choked goodbyes, the woodcutter finally lost the courage to avoid his wife any longer.  Hansel and Gretel watched their beloved father trudge away in disbelief.  Gretel collapsed to the ground in defeat.

"Don't worry, little sister.  I've left a trail of bread crumbs for us to follow home."

But, of course, now the birds were no longer hungry.

They wandered around the forest for the rest of the day before realizing that they were hopelessly lost.  They spent the night in a bed of leaves, lying back to back to conserve what little heat their skinny bodies could produce.  Shivering the next morning, Hansel and Gretel stumbled out of the trees.  A large grassy meadow framed the most beautiful thing the children had ever seen: towers of chocolate, sugar coated glass, frosting mortar, biscuit doors, candy flowers.  They found the last of their strength and bolted for the confectionery building.

And then it was theirs.  The sweet, rich, buttery goodness they never could have afforded.  They ate and ate until their sunken bellies bulged.  And then they ate more.  A tight pressure pinched the children's collars and a hideous woman came into view as their feet dangled below them.

"I see you found my garden."

The children hardly dared to breathe at this apparition, this warty, disfigured woman.  The vice grip on the back of their necks vanished and they crumpled.

"Where are my manners? You must be hungry, children.  Please, come inside and eat some real food."

Relieved the old woman wasn't going to punish them, the children happily obliged.  And what a meal it was!  The table was furnished with gravy smothered turkey, exotic fruits and vegetables  that neither Hansel nor Gretel had even heard of let alone tasted, and five different pies along with a thick stew, rice, jam, and curry.  The old woman sat the children down and filled their plates several times over.  Drowsy from the turkey, Hansel and Gretel's eyes slid closed, little heads slumped over their shoulders.

Jocelyn smiled.

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Hansel frowned at the hard, cold surface leeching the warmth of sleep out of him.  He bolted upward, slamming his head into the top of what he realized was a cage. Hands twined around the bars, seeking escape.

"Help! Help me!"

It was Gretel, scrunched up in an even smaller container than Hansel. The salty wash of despair reverberated between the siblings. They peered about the bare room, black as Death.  Harsh light exploded into the room as the old woman flung the door open.  Her unnaturally white teeth bared in a pleased snarl.

"It's been ages since I've had a snack.  That's all you are.  A snack.  Until I get a little more meat those pathetic frames."

She slurped noisily at the prospect.

Gretel buried her face in her sleeve.  Hansel was tempted to do the same but he needed to protect his little sister.

"Our parents know where we went and they'll be here soon," Hansel shouted at her.

Jocelyn laughed, "You've been asleep for three days and I've seen neither hide nor tail of another living being beyond you tasty morsels.  Now you, girl.  Stop your whimpering.  You will help me with the housework."

Gretel soon discovered that 'helping' with the housework really meant 'completely and totally scrubbing down the entire house and preparing the ingredients for children stew.'  Meanwhile, Jocelyn set the two on a strict 20-meals-a-day-not-including-dessert diet.  Despite Hansel's attempts to hide the food in his clothing and Gretel's attempts to throw it out the window, both children had definitely put on some weight. Luckily, Jocelyn had the vision of a brick wall so she couldn't tell how large they were getting.  She periodically would ask to pinch Hansel's finger through the bars in the cage to see if he was 'done yet.'  Clever Hansel poked one of the many turkey bones through every time.

"You're still much too skinny!"  she would proclaim and then stuff a chicken pot pie through the small slot in the bars.  After a week of bone pinching, Jocelyn grew tired of waiting.

Fire up the ovens, love!" she cackled at the girl.

Gretel reluctantly waddled over to the large stone grate, "Do you want me to make more chicken pot pies?"

"No.  I want to make children pot pies!"

With that, wicked woman snatched Gretel by the hair and dragged her over to the cutting board.

"Start chopping," she snarled.

The fires grew larger and larger.

"Go check and see if the oven's hot enough."

Gretel gulped.  Did she have the courage?

"Go check it yourself."

"You ungrateful little..." Jocelyn lunged towards her with a large wooden spoon.

"I mean...I've never made children before.  I'm not sure how hot the oven should be.  You don't want me to mess up your recipe do you?"

Jocelyn glared suspiciously at her for a moment before nodding, "That's true.  I don't want you to burn."

The horrible, old hag hobbled over to the oven and bowed her already crooked spine over the flames. Gretel took one large breath for strength and shoved the witch right in, slamming the door behind her.  The resulting scream still wakes her up in the middle of the night, the high pitched wail of no hope, bitter life, and insanity.

Gretel raced into the room where Hansel was furiously trying to break free of his confines thinking the hideous screeching was the last of his sister's life.

"I-I pushed her in."

Gretel fell to her knees in respect for Death and her role in it.

"C'mon sis.  We've got to get out of here."

Gretel finally found the keys, as well as a strange chocolate egg, in a drawer in the kitchen.  She held her breath the whole time so she would have to inhale the stench of burning flesh.  The key went in the lock and they were free.

Two days later, Hansel and Gretel were wandering though the forest looking for anything, anything to lead them home.

"Shh!"

"What?"

"Do you hear that?"

The steady beat of an axe on wood assailed their ears and they started running.

"Papa! Papa!" they cried.

And they were in his arms.

"Children!  Children, I missed you so much!  Your stepmother died and I- I should have-"

He brushed his beard on both of their foreheads in a kiss.

"Look!  We brought you back this present!" Gretel exclaimed holding up the chocolate egg.

The woodcutter gladly bit into the chocolate but immediately dropped it, clutching at his teeth in pain.  Under a thin chocolate layer was an egg of solid gold.

The poor family stared in disbelief.

"I guess you don't have to cut wood anymore."