By John Leatherman
Cinnamon-scented steam still wafts from my basket of freshly baked muffins. A light breeze ruffles the brunette bangs peeking out of my crimson bandanna. I hope the checkered towel tucked into the wicker will keep the goodies warm for the short walk through the woods to Granny M’s.
A gray figure emerges from the shadowy thicket—a she-wolf walking upright. I wince but stay calm as she sniffs at my basket. “What smells delicious, honey? Cinnamon? Nutmeg?”
Clutching the basket closer, I turn from her. “I don’t talk to strangers.”
The wolf darts in front of me. “All right, I’m Lupe. Who’s the stranger now?”
“Call me Red if you must.” I show off my tracksuit, matching my favorite headgear. “For obvious reasons.”
“Wolves are colorblind. But we have a great sense of smell.” Dripping with drool, she pushes her face against mine. “Not to mention, taste! So, whatcha got there? Scones? Cookies? Popovers?”
“No… nunyading.”
“Onion rings?”
“Nunyading. Nunyading-dang business!” I smirk. “These are for my grandmother. Nobody else.”
Lupe scowls. “Not sharing with a wolf could be dangerous. Who’s going to protect you from all the crazy critters in these woods?”
I point over Lupe’s shoulder. “Oh, like those swine back there?” Hand on my cheek, I feign adoration. “Aw, those three pigs are so little!”
Lupe whips around. “Wha—pigs? How little? Like, bite-size?”
I charge the other direction, pausing only to grab the thick, sprawling frond of a giant fern.
Seeing no pigs, Lupe starts after me, and I release the frond. It snaps back and flings her into the brambles.
I dash toward Granny M’s, Lupe’s jeers receding into the distance. “This isn’t over, Red! I’ll get the goodies on you!”
However Lupe might hate me now, I cannot waver from my mission. Knowing I want to be a secret agent someday, Granny M sent me a coded message that, for two dozen muffins matching her classic recipe, she’d finally explain the mysterious twenty-year gap in her old photo album.
***
I finally arrive at Granny M’s modest cottage, dappled in the leafy shadows of a narrow clearing. The only response to the doorbell is Matteo’s full-bellied barking, so I use my key to enter. The oversized, mahogany-and-white Saint Bernard nearly knocks me backward planting an affectionate slurp on my cheek.
A weak, high-pitched rasp comes from the bedroom. “Rhonda, is that you? I’m feeling too weak to get up. Bring those muffins to me!”
I enter the bedroom, stopping a few steps in. “Granny M?”
Under the covers is a hairy figure wearing Granny M’s paisley sleep bonnet. “Yes… Don’t I look like her?”
I purse my lips. “Your eyes are kind of big.”
“Oh, that must be the facelift.” She pats her cheeks. “My eyes look bigger without all those wrinkles. Plus, I’m gawking at those yummy muffins.”
“You had a facelift… to enlarge your nose?”
“Uh, no. That’s swelling from the painkillers. Should go down in a few days.” She smacks her lips. “Though a nice muffin might help.”
“The swelling expands your teeth?”
A sinister growl spills from her jaws. Ripping off the bonnet, she reveals she is, as I suspected, Lupe. “Enough questions, Red! Gimme those muffins!” She throws back the covers and leaps at me.
I’m glad I stayed back. I grab Granny M’s remote from the dresser and punch the button retracting her Murphy bed into the wall. As it flips up, the mattress knocks Lupe’s shins, sending her into a chaotic tumble that splats her prone on the linoleum.
I pounce on Lupe’s back. “I’ve had enough of your huffing and puffing. What did you do with my granny?”
Lupe sneers. “You’re so smart, you figure it out!”
I look at Matteo, then back at Lupe. “I think… you didn’t harm her. Because you and Granny M… are friends.”
She nods slowly. “Yes, something like that.”
Releasing Lupe, I retrieve my basket and offer it to her with the towel pulled back. “If you’re friends, I can give you a muffin.”
Scoffing, she takes one. “About time. That’s all I wanted.” As she chomps into it, those big eyes of hers swell with delight. “Mmm, worth the wait, though.” She grabs another and, well, wolfs it down.
Hands clasped, I grin. “Just like she used to make?”
“I wouldn’t know. See ya, Red!” Lupe scampers out.
Alone with Matteo, I shrug. “Huh. That was weird.”
A familiar crotchety voice calls to me. “I’ll say. Didn’t think you’d figure it out.”
Standing in the bedroom door frame is my grandmother, Miriel Takkenridge, short and sturdy with wispy white hair.
“Granny M!” I smother her with a hug.
She smiles. “So, Rhonda. Why’d you decide to trust the wolf?”
“She knew I had muffins. I never told her that.”
“She could have tortured that out of me.”
Giving Matteo an affectionate stroke, I chuckle. “If she’d tried, I’d be cleaning up her Matteo-scarred remains.”
“Excellent work. You’ve passed the final test!”
I hold up my basket. “But what about these? I have to know if they’re like your recipe!”
She giggles. “There is no recipe. I change it every time.”
“Then what was all this for?”
“To see if you’re ready to hear about my years in the Clandestine Corps.”
I gasp. “You were a spy, Granny M? Why would you keep that from me?”
“I had to know you appreciated security, trust, and dedication to a mission. And sometimes, despite the best intel, you have to figure things out for yourself. Now I can train you to carry on my legacy.”
I wince. “Train me? Won’t the academy do that?”
She winks. “Partly. But only I can teach you what made me the greatest spy ever.” Waving her arms, she envelops herself in an eerie gray mist and then emerges as Lupe. “Class is in session, Red.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Great job of incorporating Miriel with Little Red Riding Hood. Nicely done!
Glad you enjoyed it!
Good use of descriptive language to create the setting and characters.
The detail that Red is wearing a tracksuit leads me to believe this story takes place in eastern europe, correct? Wolf, forest, and fern distributions in europe all overlap in a limited number of locations, mostly in the south, I’d say the Carpathian mountains? Romania probably? All that to say, really well done getting the details right, but you could have bumped up the realism by having someone steal something, that would have really screamed “Romania”
Nice story! Reminds me of Hoodwinked
one of my family’s favorites!
Crazy-fun! I like the characters and the very unique take on Miriel — and Red.
Making a famous character turn out to be Miriel was inspired.
Loved this, John! It reminded me of the Jon Scieszka stories with amazing twists (“Stinky Cheeseman-“ and “The True Story Of The Three Little Pigs”), but with a huge dash of Leatherman ingenuity and humor.
I have a brand! :)