We soon passed the stump that’s big enough for two people to sit on, which was the halfway mark to Grandma’s. Since we had time before we finally reached my Grandma’s house, I decided to ask my fairytale friends questions about their life. How did fables my age go about their life?
Hammy explained that he was the middle triplet of The Three Little Pigs and the one his two other siblings always relied on for help, as they got into trouble often. Meaty, Hammy’s younger brother by twelve minutes, was said to be a blabber mouth (reminded me of someone here) and Baloney, Hammy’s older brother by seventeen minutes, was said to be a great chef. Hammy couldn’t decide what was better, my baking or Baloney’s cooking. “One day, you two should both come by my house. Baloney can make lunch and you can bring one of your treats for an afterwards snack. Then we’ll see what tastes better.”
Goldylocks said she was more interested in my life than talking about her own, but she would tell us nevertheless. She claimed to be born in New Jokesy (“it’s a real place!” she’d protest if we snickered,) but was raised in Red brick land, Werewolf county. She grew up trying to catch pixies and learning how to avoid falling down rabbit holes. What her parents should have taught her was not to go into strangers' houses, as it wasn’t entirely her fault that she went into the bears’ house.
“So it’s not your fault that you broke one of their chairs, ate their porridge, and then slept in one of their beds!?” I asked her sarcastically.
“Well, I mean, if my parents taught me better, I wouldn’t have wandered into the Bear family’s house in the first place!” Goldy argued. Then she began to laugh. “Man, Ma and Pa were so furious when I got back home. They grounded me for a week, all because I broke a chair and decided to eat their food. And it wasn’t even porridge! It was apple-oatmeal!
When it was Okomo’s turn, I decided to be quiet, since I was genuinely interested in his life story. Okomo explained that his parents were eaten by a big, 9-foot brown bear when he was three. “That must have been traumatizing.” Goldy said exactly what I was thinking. “Kind of,” was Okomo’s reply. “I don’t remember the gory details, but I do remember breaking into a cold sweat when that thing flaunted it’s towering nine feet. He was eating one of them when I backed up, and I guess he remembered that he left me alive. His dark eyes locked on me. He was just about to kill me when the Alpha girl-wolf leader Mika pounced on him, followed by her mate Alpho and the rest of the pack. I don’t think I would be here without them. They then took me in as one of the pups. They showed me around the woods. Taught me how to hunt rabbits and even moose. We go to the fairies every so often to get me new clothes, and the elder wolves gathered fruits, nuts and vegetables to go with my meals since I’m an omnivore.” Then Okomo began to tell us childhood memories about his pack, like the first time he made Alpho mad, or when he once led the pack howl.
“So you all are like one big family?” Hammy asked.
“For the most part, but that’s not to say some of us don’t get along. There is one stupid wolf who’s the omega of the pack that I don’t like at all.” Okomo admitted solemnly. “I’ve told you of him before. His name is Rotty, but I call him Uncle Rotty since he is my spirit-mother’s brother. He likes slinking around, stealing the pups food and telling me how I come from a weak ancestry since my parents couldn’t fight off a bear. Okomo’s fists balled up at his sides. “I hate him. He’s self-absorbed, and he certainly mainly hunts for the killing.”
“Same as my uncle,” said Goldylocks. “He only hunts ducks just for the sake of saying he can catch one. Not at all for the protein it brings to the table.”
That made Okomo laugh and literally loosen up. “Heh-heh. Your Uncle and mine may hunt for other reasons than most, but it’s not the same. Rotty’s more ill-minded, and I’m certain your uncle’s not practically in love with himself.”
My new friends were all so interesting to me. How they thought magic was ordinary and had so many tales to tell. When I was younger I had always pretended these woods were magical, but never in my life had I ever would have thought it really was.
“So what about you, Red Riding Hoodie?” Goldylocks asked. I turned to see they were all looking at me.
“What about… what?” I asked her, confused. I had dazed out and didn’t know what she was asking me.
“What’s your life story? How does your fairytale go from your eyes?” Okomo asked me.
I didn’t have a fairytale. Up until today, I didn’t even know I was Red Riding hood! I’ve barely even heard of the story before!
“For me… well, it’s not-” I was going to say it’s not much, but then I heard a long, majestic howl that sounded like the type you might hear at night from a wolf deep in fog. Then, the howler hacked, but continued his howl in a lower pitch.
That must’ve been from Okomo’s pack! We were finally getting somewhere! I turned to Okomo, waiting to see his reaction, but his face was sour.
“I know that howl from anywhere, that’s Rotty.” he told us. “And it sounds like he ‘ain’t with the rest of the pack.”
And when i heard an old, brittle yet sharp “LET GO, YOU OLD WOLF!” My heart dropped.
“That’s her,” my voice wavered. “That’s my Grandma!”