Girl in the Red Hood (5 page)

"I knew it. Father was wrong. You know how I
knew?" He finally turned his serious golden-brown eyes on her, and
without waiting for a response, grabbed her wrist and began
dragging her deeper into the forest. Liesel allowed him to lead
her, although a wiser voice in her mind that sounded much like her
mother's wondered how far she should let this strange boy lead her
into woods she barely knew. And yet, the heat of his hand was
comforting in a way Liesel had never felt, and she didn't want to
hurt his feelings, so she let herself be led along until she heard
water.

Without warning, they burst out of the trees
and into a clearing that laid just at the edge of a waterfall.
Liesel gasped as she looked up at the waterfall and saw a large
patch of blue sky above it. Unimpeded, blinding sun spilled down
into the water that lapped the sand not far from their feet. The
roaring of the water was mesmerizing as it crashed down into a
sparkling blue pond three times wider than Liesel's cottage. The
waterfall itself was about as tall as the church steeple back her
in old city, and it was nearly as majestic in its bearing. Liesel
found herself grinning ridiculously as she looked up in awe at the
clear blue sky she'd missed so much.

"What is this place?" She had to nearly yell
for him to hear her over the crashing of the water. He waved her
over to a log on the other side of the clearing, a bit further from
the noise.

"I found it when I was small. My mother had
told me stories of places with lots of open sky, and I wanted to
see for myself. My father says this is as big as it gets, but I
never believed him." He looked at her, his eyes suddenly burning
with curiosity. "Tell me," his voice was reverent. "Tell me about
all of those other places!"

"Well," Liesel thought for a moment. "I
haven't been to many of them myself, as I’ve only lived by the
mountain, but I've read stories..." He nodded eagerly, so she
continued. "In one kingdom, the rulers have greater powers than our
king, or any other king, possesses. The man who is king now made a
grievous mistake when he was a prince, and his entire kingdom was
thrust into darkness. They would have all perished if it hadn't
been for a merchant's daughter, who brought the magic back with the
strength of her heart. Then there-"

"Wait, it was good magic?"

"Of course it was good magic. The next place
they went-"

"But there is no good magic!"

Liesel huffed, finally tired of his
interruptions.

"Are you a magician?"

"No," he grimaced at her.

"Well then, how do you know that good magic
doesn't exist? Now, do you want to hear the stories or not?"
Nodding, he got up from the log and flung himself down on the sand
at her feet, closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his
head. Mollified, Liesel continued.

"One of my favorites is the kingdom where
the ocean meets the land, and the ocean folk are half human and
half fish." Kurt sat straight up, sand spilling out of his wild
hair and down the back of his shirt. He was so focused he didn't
seem to notice, though.

"Tell me about that one!"

"I could tell you better if I had the book
my grandmother gave me. It's filled with drawings and stories from
when she and my grandfather traveled the world. I could bring it
tomorrow, and you could see for yourself. If you can't read it, I
can-"

"I can read," he scoffed as he stood up and
skipped a rock across the water. Liesel felt a bit guilty. She knew
the story by heart, as she did every story in the book, but she
hadn't been sure he would want to see her again after this. By
promising to bring the book, she knew she could buy herself at
least one more day with him. With the hope of another meeting, she
leaned back on the log and lifted her head towards the sky,
allowing the heat of the sun's rays to wash over her whole body.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this gloriously
happy. Time quietly passed as they sat in silence. Liesel tried to
quell the questions that were raging inside of her, but finally she
gave up and asked just one.

"If your father is so sure there aren't
places with open sky, why doesn't he leave the forest to see for
himself? It's only a day and a half's ride to the edge of the
forest." To freedom.

"My father doesn't ever leave the forest. He
has too much to do taking care of the family."

"Oh. Do you have a large family?"

"You could say that," He stared out at the
waterfall. Liesel shook her head to herself in confusion. Never had
she met anyone so determined to be mysterious. Not long after, it
was time for her to leave. When they stood to go, Liesel hated
staying goodbye to the waning sun that was now beginning to sink.
More slowly than the first time, they made their way back to the
edge of the forest. Liesel realized as she lifted her skirts that
the run had put more tears in her dress than she would be able to
mend in one night. It had been worth it, though, she smiled to
herself. When they were near the path, he stopped.

"Don't forget to bring your book tomorrow,"
he said before turning to go.

"Wait!" Liesel had an idea and spoke before
she had time to lose her nerve. He turned and looked at her with an
open expression. "Would you like to come back with me...just for a
few minutes? You could meet my father, and I could show you the
book there." But he was already shaking his head.

"My father wants me to stay out of the
town." The disappointment must have been evident in her face,
however, because he added more kindly, "But I will be back
tomorrow." And with that, he was gone.

***

"I don't think you could stand out any more
if you tried," Kurt shook his head as he handed the book back. It
had met near disaster the first day Liesel had tried to carry it to
the waterfall. She'd caught her dress on a bush and nearly dropped
the book in a puddle. From then on, Kurt had taken to carrying it
for her. Every day, they read another story, and every evening, he
asked her if she was coming back the next day. Liesel had enjoyed
it immensely, having someone else as interested in her beloved book
as she was, but she was somewhat concerned about what she would do
when they ran out of stories. It had been a week already, and there
were only a few dozen left. The more she got to know the boy,
however, the more she dared to hope that he would want to visit
even after all the stories were gone.

"A girl walking through the forest alone in
a red cloak, carrying a book is just asking for trouble," he
continued with a frown. Liesel smiled and stood up straighter.

"Not so much a girl. I turn fourteen today!"
Kurt held his hands up and gave a mock bow.

"My apologies, my lady. Happy birthday. Now,
may I have your permission to return home?" Laughing, Liesel
curtsied back and turned back towards her own home. It had been the
best week she'd had since her mother had been well. Kurt was indeed
different from any boy she'd ever known back at home. He still had
an untamed look in his eyes, and his walk could only be described
as stealthy. The paths he led her down were imperceptible to her
eyes, and he would often stop and listen for sounds she never
heard. But for an inexplicable reason, she felt safe in his
presence.

Liesel's mother had warned her about boys
when she'd turned twelve.

"They're like wolves, Leese. They have
little on their minds aside from eating and chasing girls. You're
turning into quite the pretty young woman. Don't be giving them
reasons to think you want them to chase after you. When you are old
enough to marry, your father and I will find you a good one, but
don't be paying these hooligans any heed now while you're young."
She had nodded at some of the boys Liesel had once played with, as
she continued to hang up laundry on the line in their yard.

"What about Father?" Liesel had asked.
"Wasn't he a hooligan once?" Amala gave a loud laugh.

"Now where did you hear that?"

"Grandfather." Amala had rolled her
eyes.

"Fathers always think young men are
hooligans...all of them. That's why the Maker gave girls mothers,
to help them find the true men among the boys."

Liesel sighed. How she wished Amala could
meet Kurt. She was sure her mother would have liked him. He was
different from the boys she had grown up around. His wild ways were
a bit alarming at first, but he was gentle. He was careful with his
words. Liesel could see him weigh his thoughts before speaking. How
she just wished she could hear more of what he really thought
instead of having to guess at his silence so often.

As Liesel neared the cottage, she knew
something was wrong. The door was ajar, and she could hear a
strange wailing from the inside. Sucking in her breath, she
steadied herself for what she was sure to find. It was the fifth
time that week her father had come home in such a state.

Sure enough, as she pushed the door open, he
let out another wail. She set the book in a cupboard where it would
be safe before turning to face the mess on the floor. Warin lay
stretched out on the ground, flailing his arms about as he groaned.
Liesel could smell him from where she stood.

"Where ha' you been?" he moaned at her when
he finally realized she was walking towards him. "I been callin'
you all day to make it stop!" Feeling her face flush with anger,
Liesel hated the way he slurred his words.

"I wouldn't have to make it stop if you
didn't spend so much time at the tavern," she muttered as she
expertly grabbed him behind the arms and started dragging him
towards his bed. His hair was covered in dirt, and one eye was
black. Liesel could only guess he‘d said something foolish to one
of the burly travelers who often frequented his favorite
tavern.

"Don't you sass me, daughter!" he yelled
loudly and tried to point at her. Choking back a gag from his
stench, she managed to haul him up onto his straw mattress before
removing his boots and shoving his feet onto the bed with him.

"There are some people in this world who can
handle a drink now and then," Amala had told her once, shaking her
head after Warin had spent too much time at a tavern back in the
city. "And your father is not one of them." Liesel had always
thought her mother wise in every way, but she was tempted to wonder
sometimes where that wisdom had gone when she'd accepted Warin's
marriage proposal at the tender age of seventeen. Her grandparents
certainly hadn't approved of the match, not even her grandmother.
For all Amala's talk of listening to a mother's sense to choose a
good man, it seemed she hadn't followed that sound advice
herself.

To be fair, Warin wasn't a bad man. Even in
his drunken stupor, he'd never once tried to hit his wife or
daughter. He'd always seen to it that they were well provided for,
even if that meant spending hours nearly freezing in the woods in
the dead of winter just to bring meat home for supper. When she was
little, he would even lift her up onto his shoulders as they walked
through town so she could see everything from above. Long gone were
those days, however, and long had it been since Liesel and Warin
had shared any kind of special bond. Amala had been the love that
tied them together. And now Amala was gone.

When Warin was finally quiet, passed out on
his bed as if death had taken him, Liesel cut a few slices of bread
and cheese and went to sit on her own mattress, tucking her knees
under her chin. Her chest tightened, and the food suddenly felt dry
in her mouth. No. Liesel tightened her jaw and then began chewing
again. She wasn't going to let the sadness take her. She wouldn't
let the tears have their way, because if she gave them permission
to come now, they would never stop. So she tried to think about
home.

If she had been at home, and her mother had
stayed well, Amala would have served Liesel a blueberry tart for
breakfast in bed, as she did every year on her daughter’s birthday.
The day would have been spent looking at cloth in the tailor's
shop, and Liesel and Amala would have chosen some for Liesel's new
dress. They would have gone out to her grandparents' home for
supper, and her grandmother would have made her favorite sweet
bread with honey and milk. Then her grandfather would have told her
tales of when he was a young man traveling the world, and her
parents would have presented her with a new pair of shoes and some
little bauble they'd picked up from one of the traveling merchants
who came to town from distant lands.

Instead of making her feel better, however,
the memories only made Liesel feel worse. Tearless sobs shook her
body as she lay on her mattress in the dark. There was no blueberry
tart or sweet bread this year, no new dress or new shoes. Her
mother was never going to push the hair back from her face and
greet her in the morning with a smile. She would never see her
mother's face again. Instead, she was stuck in a forest without
light. The people ostracized her, and her father seemed to need the
drink more than he needed her. Her grandparents were miles away,
and she hardly knew her only friend. Maybe fourteen wasn't so
special after all.

The next morning didn't start out any
better.

"Don't be tellin' folks about what happened
here last night," Warin warned her as he rubbed his head. "A man's
entitled to a drink every now and then. Best we forget about it and
begin anew." With that, he'd pulled on his coat and left for work,
not looking at his daughter enough to see the glare she'd been
aiming at him all morning. She didn't know why she'd hoped he would
remember her birthday this morning. It wasn't as if that was
something he was ever likely to do on his own. And yet, she'd
foolishly hoped.

Liesel spent the rest of the morning
cleaning the cottage and tending to the horse. She slammed the
cupboards and cottage door as much as possible, and their loud
protests made her feel just slightly better. She was still in the
same sour mood as she set out for the woods to meet Kurt, and only
when she'd nearly reached their meeting spot did she remember that
she had forgotten the book. Sure that Kurt would want nothing to do
with her without the book, she decided to dawdle as she went, not
paying attention to where she was really even going.