I probably should have said yes, he thought. Oh well.
Hansel finished off the bacon and continued to sweat. Soon, yet another delicious smell rose to his nostrils.
Oh no! he thought. I must be cooking now! And I smell delicious! just like chocolate cake!
This time, he was right. He was cooking. And he did smell just like chocolate cake, because he had eaten so much of it since coming to the baker woman’s house. The baker woman smelled him cooking, came downstairs, and opened the oven door. “Are you cooking yet?” she asked.
But Hansel shook his head. “I don’t think it’s hot enough in here,” he shrugged. “That smell was just some chocolate cake I’d stuffed in my undies.”
“Not hot enough in there!” the baker woman huffed. “Let me see!” She crawled into the oven, pushing Hansel out of the way. “Feels plenty hot to me!” she said.
Hansel had crawled out of the oven while the baker woman was crawling in. He looked at her—pink and mean and sweating, sitting in the enormous oven.
“Hey!” she shouted at him. “What are you doing?”
Something dim flickered in his food-addled brain. “I’m saving myself and my sister,” he said, “from another terrible parent.” And then he closed and locked the oven door.
“Hey! Let me out!” the baker woman shouted at him. “Hey, you stupid little kid, let me out!” Hansel stared through the grate on the oven door at her.
The baker woman began to sweat more. Her face was burning. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I don’t want to die! Just let me out! Let me out!”
Hansel’s face softened.
“Please? Please! I could die in here! I could die!”
Hansel began to feel sorry for her. But he certainly wasn’t going to let her out.
He walked upstairs and out to the back of the house, where he found Gretel sitting in the dirty cage. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
She looked up.
“Dinner’s in the oven,” he added.
But Gretel wasn’t hungry.
And besides, he was only kidding.
The End
Now, that’s not a bad little story. But it is a crime, a crime, that that is the only part of Hansel and Gretel’s story that anybody knows.
Yeah, yeah, nearly getting eaten by a cannibalistic baker woman is bad. But not nearly as bad as what’s to come.
Speaking of which, the little kids might have liked that one. Or at least, they probably could have sat through it without screaming their heads off.
In fact, if any little kids heard that story, that’s just fine. Hi, little kids. But things get much worse from here on. So why don’t you go hire a babysitter, and let’s do the rest of this thing alone.
The Seven Swallows
Once upon a time, a man lived with his wife and seven sons in a cozy little hut in the middle of a small village. The sons were strong and good, and the wife was kind and loving, and you would think that they would be a very happy family. And, for the most part, you would think right. But the father wasn’t quite as happy as he could have been. You see, he wished for a daughter more than anything in the world. But since he and his wife had tried for one seven times, and failed each time, he was now resigned never to get his wish.
Imagine his surprise, then, when one evening a boy and a girl knocked on his door and asked if they could come and live with him. They explained that they had run away from two different homes together; one where their parents had cut off their heads, and the other where a wicked woman had tried to eat them. The man nodded at them like you nod at crazy people.
But, they said, when they saw this cozy little house in the center of the village, with candlelight flickering in every window, they decided that it was a better house for a family than either a palace or a cake-house, and that any parents who lived inside would probably love them and not try to hurt them. So they had decided that they would like to live there for the rest of their days, if that was okay with the man and his wife.
Well, the man was delighted (maybe their heads really had been cut off. So what? Who cared!). He breathlessly ushered in Hansel and Gretel—for that’s who they were, of course—and told his wife to prepare them dinner. Then he ran to tell his seven sons to go to the town well for water for the bath.
“Who’s taking a bath?” the eldest one asked.
“Your new brother and sister!” the father shouted with joy. “Now hurry!”
The boys were puzzled by this, certainly. But they knew their father had a terrible temper when he was angry and were afraid to displease him, so together they hoisted the great wooden tub onto their shoulders and ran to the well.
The man’s wife laid a steaming plate of boiled meat and potatoes before the children.
Gretel hesitated. “Will we have to do chores if we live here with you?” she asked.
The woman was kind but firm when she said, “You will.”
“And go to school?”
“Of course!” the woman scolded.
“Good.” Gretel thanked the woman for the food, and she and Hansel, slowly and not-at-all greedily, began to eat.
Meanwhile, the father wondered where his new children’s bath could be. For the seven brothers, in their haste not to displease their father, had lost their grip on the tub and sent it tumbling into the well. “He’ll be furious!” the eldest whispered, while the youngest cried, “He’ll beat us for certain!” They crowded around the well, wondering what they should do.
At home, their father was getting more impatient by the minute. “Where are those foolish boys?” he whispered to his wife as she worked in the kitchen. “Our new daughter and son will be wanting their bath at any moment!”
When, a short time later, the boys still were not home, the man swore and said, “They are useless! I wish they would all just turn into birds and fly away!”
At that very moment, in the village, the seven boys turned into seven swallows and wheeled into the evening air. They flew past their house’s kitchen window before disappearing into the nearby wood. The woman saw this and turned on her husband in a fury. But he said it was all for the best, and that they had always wanted a daughter more anyway, and he made her promise never to tell their new children what had happened. For, he said, what good could come of their knowing? Reluctantly, and with tears in her eyes, his wife agreed.
At first, things were fine in the cozy little house. Hansel and Gretel’s new parents were very kind and always took especially good care of Gretel. But the children soon began to worry. Their new father was happy, but their mother seemed to bear a great sadness with her wherever she went. Gretel in particular loved her new mother very much. She could not stand to see her so upset.
“Tell me, Mother!” she would say. “Tell me what’s wrong!” But always her mother would pretend to laugh, and shoo her away.
There were other strange things that Hansel and Gretel began to notice. Their room had seven beds in it, and more than once they asked their new parents what these seven beds were for. Their parents told them it had been a guest room before Hansel and Gretel had come to live there, but Gretel didn’t believe them. “Who has seven guests all at once, and makes them sleep in the same room?” Gretel wondered aloud.