Humph! thought Walter, the rooster, as he kept a chicken’s eye view on Gretel’s Garden.  He crept closer to the edge and looked down.  Yes, it was a magnificent view, but he was a rooster; he was supposed to be back carousing with…er…protecting the hens.  Who would wake them up?  He was perched high atop the weathervane on a spire of Hansel’s castle.  He was homesick.  The cold, unfeeling bird that spun in the wind reminded him of his mother.

At least this wasn’t that lavender color of the fairies castle.  That made him sick.  He preferred brown, mud brown to be specific.  And if it was on the lovely feathers of a hen with plump white meat and slender, tantalizing dark meat, so much the better.  He almost crowed, but he needed to keep quiet.  That’s what got him in trouble in the first place. 

*     *     *

He’d been putting the moves on that leader chick of HEN.  He was breathing hard, whispering her name in her ear.  “Henrietta…Henrietta,” he repeated.

“WHAT?” she squawked.  “Henrietta-Henrietta!  Are you two-timing me with that two-named hussy?  I bet neither of those names is real.”

Just then the surviving spy chicken flew in, from Randolph’s rampage in the forest, with a tale of her courage trying to rescue her sister chicken in the face of the planned, determined, and overwhelming assault of an entire human army against just her.  “It was close,” she stated.  “But in the end I was too weak from my wounds to rescue her.”

“To go back is chicken suicide,” the hen emphatically stated, and then went into a swoon, but she kept opening one eye to see how Walter was reacting.  She made sure one slender leg was exposed to his view.

“That’s not the way it was,” said the tree they were roosting in.  “She fled at the first sign of trouble.”  But of course chickens do not speak oak.

The next thing Walter knew, he was disguised as a blackbird and dispatched on the chickicide mission.  “It will either make a man or a meal out of you,” the HEN leader informed him.  She should have said rooster, but everyone knew what she meant.

*     *     *

“You know, blackbird tastes like chicken,” Randolph was saying, as Walter stuck his head in a high window of the great dining hall of the fairy castle

“It has kind of a charcoal taste, I think,” responded Hombre, as he took another slurp of the fowl soup.

Helga-Aberdeen has gone back to fetch the bird when she heard about it, leaving Rosa to watch the cookies.  Gretel managed to save some of them from burning.

“I don’t understand it,” said Rosa.  “I’m quite good at boiling water.”

The fairies were sitting next to their fiances, feeding them soup and burnt cookies.  “We like them.  They remind us of coal,” they told Rosa.  The sisters had all tucked bibs in the dwarfs’ shirts to keep hot soup from spilling and hurting them.

“I already have a rash,” said Lucky to his Lily,  “would you like to see?”

“I get nose bleeds quite easily,” Negative-one told Chrysanthemum-Lily, as he stuck the end of his bib in his nose.  Mimi looked at it in interest.

Red Riding Hood got up with her animal and asked Nelson if he would care to walk through the castle with her.  Nelson, who wasn’t fond of burnt cookies, agreed.  And slowly they left the hall with the man on the floating rug following behind.  He had the oil lamp sitting on the rug beside him

Walter managed to hide behind a tapestry and eavesdrop on them as they stepped into the castle’s keep.

“If I had known what a nice man you were, I’d never have captured your castle.”

“What?’ sputtered Nelson.  “You haven’t captured my castle.  I’m still in it.”

“But as my guest,” said Red.  “I claim the right of conquest.  I defeated the defenders of the keep.”

“Nobody was home.  We left it unlocked.”

“Next time you have a castle, you should lock it.  I imagine they’re frightfully expensive to replace.  By the way, do you think that you should let your sixteen year-old daughters wear those flimsy underthings I saw hanging on the line.”

Nelson said.  “Don’t worry.  The dwarfs already made them throw them away.  They were afraid they would catch cold.  I understand they’re ordering some wool flannels to replace them.”

“I have some things just as…flimsy.”  Red batted her eyelashes

“Ouch!” said Nelson, as he mistakenly set his staff down on his foot.

“I had to capture your castle,” Red continued.  “I had no place else to go.  You see I’m an orphan.  I lived with my grandmother, but she died recently and I’ve lost my home.

“I’m sorry,” said Nelson.  “Did she die of old age.”

“No.  It was indigestion.”

“I’m sorry,” said Nelson again.  “I know how older people get ailments.”

“Oh, it wasn’t her indigestion,” responded Red.  “But that’s another story,” she added, as she patted the wolf on its head.  “Perhaps you’d like to stay with me here.  I understand that you’re a widower.”

“That would be nice,” admitted Nelson, “but I am old enough to be your grandfather.”

“I wish you were younger.”

“WHAT?” shouted the man on the rug.  “You promised you’d set me free with your third wish.”

“Oops!” said Red.

But it was too late.

WHOOSH!

There was a flash of lightning, a cloud of smoke, and the roar of thunder.  First, Nelson appeared to be about thirty-five, and then the genie and the rug disappeared back into lamp, as it clattered to the stone floor behind them.

*     *     *

Walter almost missed the trip to visit Heather’s grave.  He was busy hiding the lamp behind the seat of Chevy’s rebuilt oxcart.  The cart still showed signs of damage.  Splintered pieces of wood were bound together with metal clamps until Irving’s glue dried, and primer spots disfigured the lines of Chevy’s blackberry racing stripes.  The barrel was gone and the bed was back to being lined with straw.  Rex and Harley were grazing nearby.  Rex kept lifting his feet up with a start, as the sensation of being on roller-skates returned.

Walter hurried after Nelson, Red, Mimi, and Hansel; hiding in the shadows, as they visited the family crypt beneath the castle.

“This can’t be!” exclaimed Mimi, as she held a torch up to the carving on Heather’s vault.  “This claims that Heather was seventy-five years-old.  I know she was only a little older than me.”

Nelson sighed and said, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Walter couldn’t hear the rest, as Nelson spoke quietly.  But at the end, Red Riding Hood said, “Well!  I’m glad I’m not a fairy!”

*     *     *

“I wish you’d give me that thing,” Christopher said, after Rosa banged him in the knee again.  He wasn’t sure it was accidental.

“What’d you say,” answered Rosa.  “I can’t understand you.”

“Don’t give me that garbage.  Uncle Larry’s sitting right there on the sofa.”

“Oh,” said Rosa, her face was red.  “I suppose it’s that you don’t enunciate clearly.  I think you should put pebbles in your mouth and yell at the ocean.”

“What?” said Chris, as he grabbed the pan.

“I understand that’s how you improve your diction.  And if you should happen to choke on one of them, it would just be a fortunate accident.”

“Fortunate?” asked Chris.

“Fortunate,” Rosa confirmed.

“Can’t we be friends,” Chris pleaded.  “After all we’ll be traveling together to England.”

“I don’t think you want to be friends.  I think you’re a gigolo.”  She grabbed her frying pan back.  “I need this for protection.”

“What’s a gigolo?  And who do you need protection from?”

“I’m not sure what a gigolo is, but if he were someone other than you, I’m sure he’d be more interesting.”

“I’m interesting.  Did you know that sailors know how to tie over 200 different knots?”

Rosa rolled her eyes.  “I rest my point,” she told him.  “And I need the pan for protection… from you and Devil Chickens.”

“There’s not a Devil Chicken within 100 miles of here,” insisted Chris.

“We’ll see,” said Rosa, and she called out, “Henrietta!  Oh, Henrietta!”

Hiding beneath the sofa, Walter chuckled.

The wedding of Naught and Lily, and Pi and Lily, and Ten and Lily, and Lucky and Lily, and Random and Lily, and Negative-one and Chrysanthemum-Lily, and Thirty-Nine and Daffodil took place in the chapel of the fairy castle.  The brides wore veils of living butterflies.  In their re-laundered clothing, Gretel and Rosa and Irving were bridesmaids.  Randolph and Chris were groomsmen.  Chevy was the ring bearer, while Hombre tossed rose petals.  His sword clanked on the tiles as he preceded them down the aisle.

Red Riding Hood did not want to share her wedding with her step daughters.  “I plan on being a wicked step mother,” she told them.  So she and Nelson got married five minutes later.

There was significant confusion when Lily was asked to say “I do”.  The wrong Lily kept answering, and although several agreed to honor and love Lucky, none would agree to obey any of the dwarfs.  Finally, the priest just pointed to one Lily after another.  This went fine until he came to Daffodil, who was facing the wrong direction.  Thirty-nine had to turn her around twice.  Finally he said “I do” for her, speaking in a high falsetto and trying not to move his lips.

“I can do better than that,” muttered Walter, from under a pew.

The only difficulty in getting the dwarfs to confirm their vows was with Random, who kept changing his name throughout the ceremony.  Finally, the priest just pointed at him, also.

Llywarch gave away Red Riding Hood, since she was an orphan.  But he was in such a dark mood that he wasn’t listening when the priest asked, “Who gives this Bride?”  Here the priest was stuck.  He needed an answer; he couldn’t just point at someone.

Finally, Mimi nudged him with her elbow and he said, “Fine!  Go ahead and take her – just like you take all my nuts.”  Then he crossed his arms and glared at everyone.

Walter got drunk and came out of hiding during the reception.  He staggered around singing inappropriate bar songs.

“Say,” said Irving to Chevy.  “He’s talking about that same numbering system as you.”

Red Riding Hood kept checking her guest list.  “I’m sure,” she told Nelson, “that I didn’t invite any fowl.

When the dwarfs and their brides lined up to head home, Irving refused to go with them.  “I wish to remain with Chevy,” she said.

WHOOSH!

There was a flash of lightning, a cloud of smoke, and the roar of thunder – and that was that.

“It will be good to have you to do our laundry,” Llywarch told her.

Irving gave the dwarfs her recipe for bluing as a wedding present.  Not wanting to live off their wives wishes, they were going to use it to make cookies.

“Maybe,” said the intelligent Lily.  “I have some ideas.”

“Who ever heard of dwarfs who live in a tree and make cookies?” asked the wicked witch, who owned the recipes for gingerbread and pecan cookies.

 “We’ll call ourselves elves,” decided Thirty-nine and off they went, taking the witch with them.

“Well, I’m glad they didn’t decide to stay here,” said Red.  “A 200 room castle just isn’t big enough.”

Nelson had a talk with the newlyweds before they left.  “Under no circumstances do I want you to wish you were human – to spend more time with the dwarfs.”

“No problem,” insisted the dwarfs.  “Once a year is enough for us.”

“It might be too much,” said Naught.

“Did I mention that I get nose bleeds quite easily,” asked Negative-one.

Walter hid on the axle of the oxcart, as the remaining travelers headed towards Oberdonau and Hansel’s castle.  “Oh, my head,” he kept moaning every time the cart hit a rut.

*     *     *

“I’m worried about Hansel and Mimi,” said Gretel.  “There’s something they’re not admitting.  I don’t think Hansel’s upset for being wrong about the pirates.  It’s something else.  But it’s hard to worry about that when I walk among my flowers.  Isn’t this a beautiful garden?”

 “Yes.  It is beautiful,” Randolph admitted to Gretel, as they walked the earthen pathways through Gretel’s rose garden, unaware of the Devil Chicken watching them from high atop the castle.  Llywarch was taking a nap nearby, in the shade of an arbor.

Randolph was fidgeting.  His sword had – under orders from Gretel - been packed already.  He had something to say and he knew it might be the end of their friendship.  Stalling for time, he pointed to a hardy bush.  “These vibrant red ones remind me of Rosa.’

“They do?”  A steak of jealousy that astonished her ran through Gretel.

“And these white ones remind me of you.

That was better.

“Listen,” Randolph hemmed and hawed.  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Just then Chevy ran up and said, “The cart’s all loaded and we’re ready to go.”

Llywarch woke up, scratching and stretching, and followed Chevy to the cart.

“Listen,” Randolph repeated.  “I’ve got something I need to tell you.”

“What did you say?” asked Gretel.  “With Larry gone, I can’t understand you anymore.”

Maybe that was for the best, Randolph decided.  And he dug into his pocket and took out the mime’s glove.  “Here,” he said.  “I stole this.  I was jealous and I couldn’t help myself.  I know you loved him.  And I know you could never love a thief.  But I want you to know that I love you – and I always will.”

He shoved the glove in her hand, kissed the tip of his finger and laid it on her lips.  “Good-bye,” he told her.  He turned and walked out to the cart, climbing in the back, as Chevy started Rex moving.  He watched Gretel stare motionlessly at him, with her hand to her lips, until a bend in the road hid her from view.

“He said he loves me, thought Gretel.  And I knew that.  I understood when he said it.  “Oh…Oh!” she said out loud.  “I understood him.  That means I love him!  But he’s gone.”  Crying, she ran into the castle to find Hansel and Mimi, heedlessly dropping the glove behind her.

High above, an ugly bird spread its wings and flew away.

*     *     *

“But the sign says that the Rhine River is in that direction,” said Chris, and his sailor’s instinct told him it was true.

“And I’m telling you it’s not,” said the fat blackbird sitting on top of the post.  He was making a conscious effort to move his lips.  “Some kids turned the sign as a prank.  Probably dwarf children,” the bird added.

“I can’t help,” Llywarch complained, holding up an empty bag.  “I don’t even have shells left.”

“What’s wrong with being a dwarf?” asked Rosa.  “One of my best friends is a dwarf.”

“Really?” asked Hombre.  “Who?”

Rosa rolled her eyes.  “You, you idiot!”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“Have you noticed,” Mimi asked Llywarch, “that when the bird talks, its lips aren’t in sync with its words.”

“It reminds me of a Chinese movie I once saw,” admitted the wizard.

“What’s a movie?” asked Irving.

“Never mind that,” interrupted Chris.  “Randolph, help me.  Where do you think the Rhine is?”

“Where is the Rhine, ever?” asked Randolph.  “Isn’t that the eternal question?  And how do you know when you really find it?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” answered Christopher.  “Do you have the list on you?”  And he leaned over and made sure it was safe in Randolph’s pocket.

“Where can anyone find happiness?” Randolph continued.

“From me,” replied the bird.  “I’m the Blackbird of Happiness.”

“Don’t you mean the Bluebird of Happiness?” asked Mimi.

“No!  No!” replied the bird.  “That’s a different forest.  This is the black one.”

“It makes sense,” said Randolph.  “Do what the bird tells you.”

And they headed off in the other direction.

*    *    *

“I love him!” said Gretel, not realizing that she was interrupting Hansel and Mimi in a serious conversation.  Nor did she notice that Mimi was looking tired and worried – which could be explained by the fact they had traveled across a quarter of Europe in only a few days.

“Who?” asked her brother.

“Why, Randy of course,” Mimi answered.  “You men are so dense.”

“He hasn’t kissed you, has he?” Hansel asked in a gruff voice.

“Not very well,” replied Gretel, touching where he laid his finger.

“I’m sure he’ll get better,” Mimi said.  “Hansel wasn’t all that good at first.”

“What?” said Hansel.

“But he’s gone,” said Gretel.  “And I’ll never see him again.”  She burst into tears.

“Now see what you’ve done,” Mimi scolded her husband.  She got up and hugged Gretel, gently patting her on the back.  “There.  There,” she said.  “Your brother will make it right.”

“What?” said Hansel again.  “How can I do that?”

“You’ll think of something,” said Mimi.

“I only wish I could.”

WHOOSH!

There was a flash of lightning, a cloud of smoke, and the roar of thunder.  And Gretel disappeared.

“That solves our worries about Gretel, when…” Mimi didn’t finish her thought.  “And you can be kind, when you put your mind to it,” she added, kissing him on the nose.

*     *     *

“This doesn’t seem like the right river,” Chris insisted, as he sat on the side of the oxcart.  “It’s awfully blue.  Doesn’t it seem like the wrong river.  I swear that looks like Hansel’s castle over there.  And isn’t that one is the distance lavender?”

Everyone was ignoring him.  Randolph was sulking.  Chevy was trying to avoid explaining his numbering system to Irving.  Hombre and Harley were floating sound asleep.  And Rosa and Llywarch were dangling their feet in the water.

WHOOSH!

There was a flash of lightning, a cloud of smoke, and the roar of thunder.  And Gretel was sitting on Randolph’s lap.  She gave him a big, long kiss.

“Do you think they’re ever going to breath?” Rosa asked Chris.  “And don’t think you can do that to me!”  She licked her lips.

Finally, Gretel stopped.  “ That’s how you kiss,” she said, pressing her finger on his lips.

“But what…how…why?” sputtered Randolph.

“I understood you in the garden,” said Gretel, “when you told me you loved me.  That’s when I knew I loved you.”

“Did you understand anything I told you about the glove,” Randolph asked.

“The mime’s glove that Christopher stole?  No.  Why?  Was it important?”

“No.  It wasn’t important at all.”  And he kissed her, again.

“I never stole that glove,” Chris argued.

“And you’re not at all funny,” added Rosa, as she gently ran the tip of her finger across his lip.

“Marry me,” commanded Randolph, when he finished.

“It’s too late,” Gretel replied.  “Hansel already took care of that.”  And she held up their left hands to show their wedding rings.  “Is there some reason we’re floating down the Danube?”