The Frontier’s No Place for a Soft Gingerbread Man

By Austin Grisham

Faced with great adversity, most gingerbread men will crumble. But not the gingerbread men of the Cloves family. No, they are tough cookies.

“You ready?” Samuel T. Cloves yelled to his friend Billy.

“I am, but I think this is crazy.” Billy’s frosty mouth quivered on his brown cookie face. He perched on a tree branch above Samuel. “That ogre makes my frosting crawl.”

“We ain’t letting him take the town!” Samuel stood in front of the licorice net he and Billy had put together to capture the ogre. Candy boots planted firmly on the ground, he defiantly surveyed their newfound nemesis.

The ogre was a disgusting beast, three times the size of any gingerbread man, with a large round head and jagged teeth. He’d already devoured most of Sugar High, the small school the town had erected only the week before. Barely anything remained of the building except a couple of half-eaten, icing covered walls. The ogre opened his mouth, and a purple tongue, dry from the sugary midday meal, fell out of his maw.

Samuel sped toward the ogre. Within spitting distance, he spotted a gumdrop that had been part of the schoolhouse roof. Grabbing it, he threw the candy at the ogre’s head.

“Come get me, sucker!” Samuel puffed out his blue icing chest.

Turning his short neck, the ogre opened his ugly jaws. “Gingerbread men are sweet. I love to eat. Can’t wait to eat a gingerbread man’s feet!” he growled.

Samuel raced toward the net. The ogre pursued, the ground shaking under his feet. Running past Billy’s perch, Samuel led the ogre square into the middle of the net then waved to his friend. His partner pushed gingerbread slabs off his tree branch. They yanked a licorice rope through a pulley on a higher branch. The four corners of the net, attached to the other end of the line, were yanked up by the gingerbread counterweight.

“We got him!” Samuel yelled.

“Wait, look!” Billy dropped from the tree and pointed at the net.

The licorice ropes creaked and stretched under the ogre’s weight. One of them broke with a twang!

“What are we going to do?” Billy’s round icing eyes filled with worry.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I ain’t no fortune cookie. But,” Samuel’s thumb and middle finger clicked together in a gingersnap. “I know someone who does.”

The ogre tore the licorice ropes in half, breaking free. He eyed the two gingerbread men again.

“Come get us!” Samuel yelled. He and Billy ran, the ogre in hot pursuit.

“Where are we going?” Billy panted.

“To Uncle Petey’s.”

“Your uncle? You sure? It’s just… I heard some stories.”

“Like what?”

Billy pointed toward his head. “Just that he might be a little half baked. That he doesn’t get along well with everybody. Somebody flat out even told me once that he was a dough-stealing crookie.”

“That’s complete hogwash!” Samuel nodded to Petey’s farm ahead of them. “People just make stuff up because he keeps to himself. My uncle ain’t ever got his hand caught in the cookie jar. He’s as honest as they come, and brave too. Lost a foot defending the town. He just don’t sweeten everything up like some flour-headed sugar cookie.”

They came close to his uncle’s farmhouse. Looking back, Samuel saw they’d put some distance between themselves and the ogre, but he was still close behind.

Samuel’s uncle opened his door and hobbled toward them. His long beard glistened with silver sparklies. He supported a bad leg with a peppermint cane. Gray icing eyes assessed the situation coolly.

“Uncle—”

“I see him Sammy; I ain’t right out of the oven you know. You boys go take the top off that vat over there. I’ll distract the ogre.” Petey pointed in the direction of a large metal container about twenty feet away.

“Gingerbread men are sweet. I love to eat. Can’t wait to eat a gingerbread man’s feet!” The ogre bellowed again. He was less than thirty feet away.

“You sure?”

“ ’Course I am, son. I tangled with this same scoundrel a long time ago. Took my foot. Can’t wait for a rematch.” There was a glint in his eye.

“Dang, Samuel,” Billy said as they ran toward the container, “When they pulled Petey from the oven they broke the mold!”

As they unfastened the top, Samuel looked back at his uncle.

Raising his chin, Petey yelled, “Let’s tangle, partner!” The straight frosting line of Petey’s mouth never trembled, even as the ogre grabbed him in one hand.

“Take that!” Petey popped him in the nose with his cane. The ogre reeled, but the blow only stunned him for a second. In trepidation, Samuel watched the ogre bite down on his uncle’s one good foot.

“Ouch!” The ogre grasped at his mouth, spitting out Petey.

“That’s the thing about old gingerbread. We’re hard as a rock!” Petey laughed and dropped to the ground, unhurt.

Opening the vat, Samuel looked inside. “It’s—”

“Milk!” the ogre cried. He ran over, sticking his mouth—dry from gingerbread—in the vat. A gushing white river flooded into his large maw.

Abruptly, the ogre clutched his stomach and reeled back. Falling to the ground, he curled into a fetal position.

“Urgh… agh…” He moaned.

“Glad I hadn’t gotten rid of that sour milk. He’s got one heck of a stomach ache now.” Petey came over to the ogre, raised his cane, and hit him on the back of the head. The ogre slumped to the ground, out cold. “You boys find a few more men worth a half a cup of sugar and we can drag this ogre out of the town before he wakes up.”

Billy sighed. “Yes, sir. Sure been a crazy day.”

Petey gave him a knowing wink. “Well son, that’s sometimes how the cookie crumbles.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Austin Grisham originally hails from Princeton, New Jersey, but happily moved to San Diego, California, a decade and a half ago. He loves the sunshine, taking walks on the beach, and writing entertaining fiction. He has self-published three novels (The James Christianson Chronicles) and seven short stories, all available on Amazon.

---

More Stories | Author Website | Facebook | Twitter