Red Hood, Red Legend

By Rose Q. Addams

“Scarlet!”

I wince.

“Yes, ma’am?” I turn and bow to our loud neighbor.

“Are you going to drag your grandfather home?”

I bristle at her tone. He may drink too much, but only to forget his memories of the war. Everyone understands… except Lenora Cutter. She never has grace for anyone, not even her babes of stepchildren.

“I’ll get him, ma’am.”

“If you could find my drunkard of a husband and prod him this way, too…”

I curtsey and continue to the alehouse. Mr. Cutter is not a drunkard, but there is no use arguing with the old sow. Why he married her…

Entering the alehouse, I spot Grandpapa by the growling fire.

“Great red wolves,” he cries. “Stalking the forest! That’s why the sheep have gone missing. They’ll eat a man alive if he wanders in at night!”

My grandfather is not a liar. He sees things—though they do not always exist outside his mind. He wanders the woods surrounding our village, keeping the roads clear of brush and riffraff.

“T’was only the storms,” Mr. Cutter responds good-naturedly. “No wolf would hunt that cleanly.” Grandpapa turns to me, eyes watery.

“You believe me, don’t you, Scarlet? Have I ever lied to you?”

I shake my head.

“You’ll stay out of the woods at night?”

I nod. “It’s getting late.” I turn to our neighbor. “Mr. Cutter…”

“Lenora wants me?”

I nod again, and he follows us out. It’s a quick walk to the Cutter’s house, then we part, and Grandpapa and I continue on.

We’ve barely gone two paces when a sudden cry slices through the quiet night. Mr. Cutter drags Lenora out.

“Where!?” he screams. “Where did you leave the twins!?”

She looks pale but juts her chin.

“They can find their own way home.”

They’re alone in the woods?

Grandpapa pulls away from me and towards her.

“Murderer!”

A crowd soon gathers and discusses assembling a rescue party.

If there are wolves…

I look about, searching for—there! An axe, thrust into a stump. I seize it, unwilling to waste any time. The twins could be dead by the time the townsfolk figure out what to do next.

I run. No one yells after me until I’m at the treeline. I plunge headlong into the forest even as the voices layer in a clamor. I rush in deeper, chopping into a tree every few yards to mark my way home.

“Lisa! Connant?” I scream their names until I am hoarse.

The moon is rising, and a chill enshrouds me.

They will be colder.

“Lisa?”

A howl rises—wild, and close. After it, a scream.

No!

I follow the sound, seconds later stumbling into a clearing. Several dozen wolves crouch around a huge red wolf, which is circling the twins. Connant stands before his sister, white faced but protective.

A scream rips out of my throat. “Back!”

The alpha stops circling and looks at me.

“Yes, you!” I brandish the axe at it.

Connant lets out a sob.

I grab the edges of my cloak and spread them wide, making me appear larger—I pray it will frighten the beast. It stares, ears flat, and I speak quietly to the children.

“Your Da sent me to bring you home,” I say as soothingly as I can, though my heart pounds. “I need you to come to me, slowly.”

Lisa whimpers.

“One step at a time,” I continue. “They won’t touch you; I swear. Step with me. Ready?” I move, one firm step. They take one, also.

The beasts remain still while we move again, and again, until we meet. The twins cling to me. The alpha growls, a quiet thunder in his throat, and I know that time is running short.

“Take the axe, Connant, and go home. Follow the marked trees.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” I lie. “Go.”

They edge away, and I face the beasts, keeping my arms wide, trying to buy the pair as much time as possible.

“Back! Back!”

A few of the beasts step back, but once the children vanish from sight, the red begins to prowl, eyes fixed on me. I advance steadily toward him, step for step. Five strides ‘til we meet. Four.

Another step, and the red wolf speaks.

“You give yourself in exchange?”

I halt and stare. The wolf speaks? Yet I know my answer. I have no choice.

I nod, and the wolves leap toward me. I close my eyes, but the teeth and claws never come. I open my eyes. The alpha stands between the pack and me, his hackles raised. They’ve frozen in their tracks, looking as startled as me.

“You did not run.”

I shake my head, dumbstruck. He studies me anew before his eyes widen, and his ears prick as if in understanding.

“You are this village’s Guardian,” he rumbles, sounding almost amused.

I almost shake my head to dismiss the claim, but something in me grasps my new title and holds it tightly. He bows. “We have been waiting for some time. Come, we will begin your training.”

I find my voice. “I cannot. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I must say goodbye.”

“And retrieve your axe. We will take you.”

I sit atop the alpha’s back, and we fly through the night, arriving at the village in time to see Cutter embrace the twins, weeping. I dismount and emerge into the firelight. Villagers gape at me as I run to Grandpapa.

“I have to go,” I whisper, and his eyes fill with tears.

“It was always real, you know,” he says, “Everything I told you.”

“I know.” I hug him.

I approach Cutter and request the axe. He hands it over without a word. Then I turn to the trees and disappear into legend. Although they never quite get it right. A legend is, as they say, a story that’s never really true.

Except when it is.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rose Q. Addams loves cheesecake, wears many hats, and blames her expansive, loving family for her love of reading. Some of her earliest memories are hearing stories of Heidi, Winnie the Pooh, Paul Bunyan, and the prophet Ehud who stabbed King Eglon— which explains how her taste runs wildly throughout genres. She can be found searching her hometown for a rumored giant bird (or pterodactyl, stories differ), or scribbling madly on any paper she gets.

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