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Book: Tales from the Brothers Grimm and the Sisters Weird by Vivian Vande Velde
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Authors: Vivian Vande Velde
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stoop to shake out the dust from the rugs, she saw birds gathered on the path the children had taken. She stepped closer and saw what attracted them. It was pieces of the cake.
That evening, after the children had come home from playing and while Siegfried was still outside washing up at the water barrel by the front door, Isabella asked the children, "Did you take the cake to our neighbor as I asked you to?"
"Yes," Gretel said.
Hansel added, "She said it was dry and flat."
Isabella looked into their faces and couldn't bring herself to accuse them of lying. "Did part of the cake break off before you got there?" she asked.
"No," Hansel said.
"No," Gretel said.
Isabella had never raised children before and wasn't sure how they were supposed to act. She tried to remember when she had been a child herself and was fairly certain she had never acted like this.
The fifth day after her arrival, Isabella woke up later than usual because she'd spent a good deal of the night crying softly. Siegfried, who'd put his arms around her but said nothing, had already left to chop wood in the forest.
When Isabella opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Gretel standing right by the side of the bed, looking at her. Isabella shivered although it wasn't cold. "Good morning," she said, but Gretel didn't say anything.
To get away from Gretel's staring eyes, Isabella turned to get her comb from the nightstand on the other side of the bed.
And there was Hansel standing right by that side of the bed, looking at her.
"What are you doing?" Isabella asked.
It was Gretel, behind her, who answered. "We made you breakfast."
Isabella turned to look at her, and Hanselâbehind herâsaid, "We hope you like it."
Again Isabella shivered. "Why don't the two of you go out and play?" she suggested.
Without a word, without a change of expression, the two children left the house.
The breakfast that the children had made for her was porridge. They had gathered berries for it, which spread purple stains across the pale lumps of cereal in the bowl. This was the first time the children had made any effort to do anything for her, Isabella told herself. The porridge was probably meant as an apology for the night before. And yet ... And yet it looked too ghastly to eat.
She dumped the contents of the bowl out the door and, as the day progressed, watched the grass beneath shrivel and die.
The children had lived in the woods all their lives, Isabella told herself. Surely they should know which berries were good to eat and which were not.
But she couldn't bring herself to believe they'd intentionally try to do her harm.
That evening Siegfried came home from chopping wood before the children returned from playing. Isabella set the table and kept stirring and stirring the stew so that it wouldn't overheat and stick to the pot, but still the children did not come. "Call them," she asked of Siegfried, not daring to admit to him that they never came when she called.
Siegfried stood in the doorway and called, "Hansel! Gretel! Dinner!"
Still the children did not come.
Isabella's annoyance began to turn to worry. What if something had happened to the children? What if they didn't come home because they couldn't? One moment she thought something dreadful must have happened, the next that something dreadful
better
have happened or she was going to punish those children as they had never been punished before.
Isabella walked to the end of the front walk. "Gretel!" she called. "Hansel! Come home NOW! "
The edge of the sky faded from orange to pink to gray to black, and still the children did not come.
Siegfried took a lantern out into the woods. Isabella could see the light bobbing between the trees as he walked down to the stream; she could hear him calling and calling. He didn't come back until his voice was practically gone. "No sign of them at the stream," he whispered hoarsely; no sign of them anywhere.
They left the shutters open, with candles
That evening, after the children had come home from playing and while Siegfried was still outside washing up at the water barrel by the front door, Isabella asked the children, "Did you take the cake to our neighbor as I asked you to?"
"Yes," Gretel said.
Hansel added, "She said it was dry and flat."
Isabella looked into their faces and couldn't bring herself to accuse them of lying. "Did part of the cake break off before you got there?" she asked.
"No," Hansel said.
"No," Gretel said.
Isabella had never raised children before and wasn't sure how they were supposed to act. She tried to remember when she had been a child herself and was fairly certain she had never acted like this.
The fifth day after her arrival, Isabella woke up later than usual because she'd spent a good deal of the night crying softly. Siegfried, who'd put his arms around her but said nothing, had already left to chop wood in the forest.
When Isabella opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Gretel standing right by the side of the bed, looking at her. Isabella shivered although it wasn't cold. "Good morning," she said, but Gretel didn't say anything.
To get away from Gretel's staring eyes, Isabella turned to get her comb from the nightstand on the other side of the bed.
And there was Hansel standing right by that side of the bed, looking at her.
"What are you doing?" Isabella asked.
It was Gretel, behind her, who answered. "We made you breakfast."
Isabella turned to look at her, and Hanselâbehind herâsaid, "We hope you like it."
Again Isabella shivered. "Why don't the two of you go out and play?" she suggested.
Without a word, without a change of expression, the two children left the house.
The breakfast that the children had made for her was porridge. They had gathered berries for it, which spread purple stains across the pale lumps of cereal in the bowl. This was the first time the children had made any effort to do anything for her, Isabella told herself. The porridge was probably meant as an apology for the night before. And yet ... And yet it looked too ghastly to eat.
She dumped the contents of the bowl out the door and, as the day progressed, watched the grass beneath shrivel and die.
The children had lived in the woods all their lives, Isabella told herself. Surely they should know which berries were good to eat and which were not.
But she couldn't bring herself to believe they'd intentionally try to do her harm.
That evening Siegfried came home from chopping wood before the children returned from playing. Isabella set the table and kept stirring and stirring the stew so that it wouldn't overheat and stick to the pot, but still the children did not come. "Call them," she asked of Siegfried, not daring to admit to him that they never came when she called.
Siegfried stood in the doorway and called, "Hansel! Gretel! Dinner!"
Still the children did not come.
Isabella's annoyance began to turn to worry. What if something had happened to the children? What if they didn't come home because they couldn't? One moment she thought something dreadful must have happened, the next that something dreadful
better
have happened or she was going to punish those children as they had never been punished before.
Isabella walked to the end of the front walk. "Gretel!" she called. "Hansel! Come home NOW! "
The edge of the sky faded from orange to pink to gray to black, and still the children did not come.
Siegfried took a lantern out into the woods. Isabella could see the light bobbing between the trees as he walked down to the stream; she could hear him calling and calling. He didn't come back until his voice was practically gone. "No sign of them at the stream," he whispered hoarsely; no sign of them anywhere.
They left the shutters open, with candles
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