(Josie
Sayz: This is exactly as the title suggests… the truth of the ‘Little Red
Riding Hood’ tale. There is also a follow up, which I might share soon.)
Okay, so you’ve all heard the story: a girl carrying goodies, walks through the woods, strays from the path, talks to a strange wolf, who beats her to her Grandma’s house, eats her Grandma (or ties her up and locks her in the wardrobe, depending on which version you’ve heard). Then when the girl arrives at her Grandma’s the wolf tries to grab her too, but the woodcutter barges in and saves the day. What a load of rubbish! I mean, who actually believes in a talking wolf and why did he eat or kidnap her Grandma? And what’s with the woodcutter? Why does he suddenly appear at Grandma’s house and kill the wolf? How did he even know that there was a wolf trying to eat them anyway? It seems that some people are so patriarchal they don’t believe that a woman can fend for herself!
The story that you are all so familiar with is really
one told by the adults who heard of such tale. But of course, being adults they
could never let you hear the true tale. They all know that these things
happen… however; such things get labelled ‘taboo’ and are never spoken of
again. Instead they twist a brave and daring, true adventure into a cute, soft
story for children, with morals like: “Don’t stray from the path,” or, “Don’t
talk to strangers,” – or a strange wolf in this case.
I mean how farfetched does their story sound? A young
girl, walking alone in the woods, is confronted by a talking wolf, who beats
her to her Grandma’s house, eats her Grandma or ties her up in a wardrobe,
hides in her Grandma’s bed, then tries to catch or eat the girl too. It’s
ridiculous, but still it’s been told again and again and again!
Have you never stopped to think about what the tale is really
about? Have you never wondered the truth behind such a bizarre story? I know
that it’s my word against all of the story tellers and different versions that
you’ve heard, but if you take just one moment to think about what I am telling
you, then hopefully you’ll see that I speak the truth. And hopefully you will
also see where and why those that know of the story decided to mask the truth
from your eyes. Here I give you the truth of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’.
It was summer. Studying was over. The girl everyone had
come to know as Red sat in front of an open window at the front of her house.
Her father had already left for work, leaving her and her mother alone to mind
the house. He mother was a profound cook, known throughout the village for her
amazing cakes, biscuits and other goodies. Following the advice from several
villagers, she had opened up her own bakery at the front of their house,
transforming the front sitting room into a large open stall full of freshly
baked goods for the entire village to enjoy.
With the double window parted, its wooden frame acted as
a counter for members of the village to peer in and view Red’s mother’s
selection of cakes, mini muffins, biscuits, pastries, loaves of bread,
croissants, jam tarts and other freshly baked goods. The summer breeze swept
the sweet scents out of the window and deep into the forest.
After the morning crowd dispersed, Red gave a yawn and
hopped off her stool to stretch her legs. As she reached the door, her mother
turned to her. “And where do you think you’re going?” she asked sharply.
Red
shrugged. “Just for a walk.” Her mother shook her head.
“You’re
to stay behind the counter.”
“But
why?” Red whined. Lolling her head in the direction of the window she let out a
fed-up sigh, protesting, “It’s gorgeous out.”
“You
can enjoy the sun from the window,” her mother told her, as she finished
placing several items inside a small, woven basket. Red groaned, dragging her
feet as she returned to her stool.
Slumping herself down on the seat, Red told her mother,
“You’re always telling me that I should be out in the fresh air and now that I
want to you’re keeping me inside. Rather hypocritical, don’t you think?” Red’s
mother tutted at her and shook her head.
“It
is not hypocritical, Red,” her mother sighed. “Stop being silly. I’m going to
your Grandma’s to take her this basket of goodies,” she said gesturing at the
basket that she had been filling. “I need you to mind the shop,” she said lacing
up her boots. “I shan’t be long.”
Scrunching up her face, Red let out another groan. She
hated minding the bakery by herself. They had almost sold out of everything her
mother had baked that morning. It would mean that she would be faced with
taking orders and receiving abuse from angry customers who wanted to know where
her mother was and why she had not baked them their cakes. However, her mouth
turned up in the right corner when an idea came to mind. “Can’t I go to
Grandma’s instead?” Red asked in a slight curious tone. It seemed far more
logical to her if she were to make the trip to her Grandma’s house, that way
her mother could remain at home, baking more of her goods for her ever
increasing line of customers.
“The forest is no place for a young girl,” Red’s mother
replied, upon Red’s proposal. “There are thieves, indecent men, wild animals
and who knows what else lurking about out there.”
“But
I’m not a little girl anymore,” Red protested. “I’m sixteen.”
“There
are plenty of dangerous things for a girl of your age to be worried
about when travelling such a long distance and by yourself too.”
“Mother,”
sighed Red rolling her eyes. Plenty of her school friends were allowed to
travel much further distances than she was and by themselves too. To add to her
frustration, Red knew that her mother often travelled alone through the forest
when she was her age, maybe even younger. “Stop worrying,” Red told her mother.
“I’ll be fine. Grandma’s house isn’t that far. I’ll be there and back in no
time, you’ll see.”
After giving it some thought, Red’s mother did see the
advantage to Red’s suggestion. If Red were to go to her Grandma’s house that
would mean that she could remain at home and get more baking done. It would
also mean that she would not have to listen to Red complain, once she had
returned, about wanting to be outside in the sunshine. Red’s mother sighed,
giving in. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, just this once.”
“Yes,”
Red hissed, jumping off her stool, clasping her hands together. Excited that
she final got her own way, Red ran to the front door and but on her boots.
Swiping her red cape from off the coat stand, she tied it around her neck,
before returning to the front room to retrieve the basket that her mother had
prepared. “Bye mum,” Red said as she kissed her mother on the cheek. “And
thanks.”
“Be
careful,” her mother called as Red skipped off towards the front door. “Now
don’t stray from the path, do you hear me? And no talking to strangers.”
“I
won’t,” Red sang out as the door swung closed behind her. She turned around to
wave good-bye to her mother through the open window, swung up the hood of her
cape and began her journey.
*
Breathing
in the fresh air, Red sighed happily to herself, amazed with her freedom. This
was the first time that her mother had ever allowed her to travel through the
woods by herself. ‘About time too,’ Red thought to herself. As a bed of flowers
drew near, Red bent down and hesitated at scooping up a handful of daisies.
Standing back up right, she noticed a cherry blossom tree instead and snapped
off a branch of budding blossom. “Perfect,” she smiled to herself, before
tucking it inside the basket.
Carrying on through the forest Red began thinking about
her mother’s worrying. ‘There’s nothing dangerous here,’ Red thought to herself
as a pair of blue tits fluttered by, nesting against a near tree branch.
Jumping up onto a rock, Red clambered her way to the top of the pile. Holding
down her skirt in the breeze, Red stretched her head as high as she could,
desperate to see over the many clusters of trees. With her Grandmother’s house
hidden by the explosion of trees, Red climbed down and returned to the path,
continuing her journey.
*
Despite
taking the route several times before with both her mother and father, this
time the trail to her Grandma’s house seemed to take forever. ‘That’s funny,’
Red thought to herself. ‘I thought that my freedom would make this journey
shorter and more exciting.’ There was only one path that led from Red’s house
to her Grandma’s and although the view was nice the long, lonely walk began to
feel boring. As several stones lay in her path, Red made it her mission to kick
them as far as she could.
“Hey, watch it!” came a gruff shout. Red jumped,
startled by the voice. She had thought she was alone. Looking up, she spotted a
boy, leaning with folded arms against a tree. His shaggy fringe edged over his
eyebrows, shadowing his eyes from her sight. Despite his slight stubble, Red was
certain that he could not have been that much older than her.
Blushing,
she said, “I’m sorry.”
“Next
time,” warned the boy, “watch where you’re kicking stones. You coulda had my
eye out.” Bending her head contritely she apologised again. The boy shrugged.
“So what’re you doing out here anyway?” he asked her.
“I’m
going to my Grandma’s,” Red told him with a smile, pleased to have someone to
talk to. The thought of her mother’s message, ‘Don’t talk to strangers,’
returned to her mind briefly, but she pushed it away, laughing nervously. If
she never spoke to strangers, how was she to ever make new friends? ‘Besides,’
she told herself. ‘He doesn’t look like a thief.’
“These woods aren’t a safe place for little girls, you
know?” he told her. Pushing himself away from the tree he neared her.
“I
can handle myself thank you very much,” she retorted, sticking her nose in the
air. “And for your information I’m not a little girl – I’m sixteen.” He
gave a slight nod of his head and eyed the basket that she as carrying.
“So
where’s your Grandma live?”
Angling
her basket away from his curious eyes, Red replied, “The first house on the
other side of the forest.”
“Arh,”
he replied, his eyes gleaming. He knew the house well. There was only one
resident who lived so close to the other side of the forest. An elderly lady,
he was aware, lived alone and was often seen minding her vegetable patch and
flower beds in her garden.
With a grin, the boy jumped to Red’s side, throwing his
arm around her shoulder. “And would madam like an escort?”
Wriggling
out from under his arm, Red frowned at him. “No,” she said forcing a smile and
neatening the crease in her skirt. “I’m fine, thank you.”
She watched him gaze at her, unwilling to let her go.
His interest in her churned away at her stomach. He was not just being
friendly, that she was sure of. Pulling her cape around her arms it made her
shudder as she realised that he may not be easy to get rid of. However, despite
her unease, she could not help feeling herself blush as he brushed his scruffy,
dark brown hair from his face and smirked, his blue eyes sparling in her
direction. She swallowed, laughing nervously and curled a fallen lock behind
her ear as his smile grew.
“You know,” he said in a conversational tone, jerking
his head to the side, flicking his fallen fringe from his eyes once more. “If
you cut through these trees, here,” he announced gesturing at the cluster of
oak trees over his right shoulder. “You’ll get to the other side of the forest
a lot quicker than you would if you stick to the path.” Looking beyond the boy,
Red shifted her sight to the trees behind him.
Returning
her sight to his she said, “Thank you,” before bowing her head and continuing
her walk passed him. The direction which he had told her, she was quite
certain, was indeed the direction in which her Grandma lived. Also, she hoped
that by taking a shortcut she would not bump into any more people like him,
even if he was rather handsome.
Before she passed him, however, he intercepted her step,
grabbing hold of her right elbow. Red jumped, swinging her basket up, like a
baseball bat. “Wait!” the boy yelled. Red stared at him, eyes wide. He let go
of her arm and she lowered her basket. “I never caught your name.”
“What’s
yours?” she asked him with a firm stare. He laughed, although Red could not
tell whether this was at her, or with nerves.
“No,”
he said with a smile. “I asked you first.”
“Red,”
she replied simply.
“Red?”
She
shrugged. “That’s what they call me.”
“Greg,”
said the boy, holding out his hand for her to shake. He smiled, pinching his
lips inwards. He shifted his sight from his hand to her and back to his hand
again. Looping her basket over her left arm, the right corner of Red’s mouth
turned up slightly at the corner as she shook his hand.
“Nice
to meet you Greg,” she said with a nod and continued her journey.
*
Reaching
the edge of the forest, Red could see that her Grandma’s house was in sight. It
was the only house on the top of the hillside. Her late Grandfather had built
the house many, many years ago and he and her Grandma had lived their happily
together until he had passed away several years previous. Now Red and her
parents often took the time to visit her Grandma, worried that she had become
lonely.
With the entrance to her Grandma’s house just around the
corner, Red smiled to herself, glad that she had listened to Greg and taken the
shortcut. If she had not, she probably would not even be half way yet. She
began to wonder why her mother had been so insistent that she kept to the path.
Since her encounter with Greg, she had not bumped into anyone else during her
journey. There had been a lot of interesting wildlife too: several birds,
squirrels, frogs, rabbits and even a wolf. Despite living so close to the
woodland, Red had never seen a wolf before. It rustled its shaggy, dark brown
coat away from its face, determined to catch one of the rabbits, which had
strayed from its group.
Swinging open the gate, Red skipped down her Grandma’s
path, before rapping on the door’s knocker three times. There was no response.
She knocked again, calling, “Granny, it’s me, Red.”
“Door’s
open deary,” a voice croaked. Red frowned, it was unlike her Grandma to leave
the door open. She sounded strange too – it was her Grandma’s voice, but
something did not sound quite right. ‘Maybe she’s ill,’ Red worried.
Red let herself into her Grandma’s house and wondered
from the living room to the kitchen and then to the bedroom. She tapped on the
door before entering. “Granny, are you in here?” she asked as she creaked open
the door.
“Mm
hmm,” came a reply.
Closing
the door behind her, Red neared her Grandma’s bed, asking, “Granny… are you
okay?”
Again,
came the reply, “Mm hmm.” Standing at the side of the bed, Red frowned at the
stretched out body shape underneath the sheets. Reaching the bed occupier’s
head, Red held in a gasp, widening her eyes. Although the bed occupier wore her
Grandma’s nightcap, their face was smooth of wrinkles and scratched with
stubble. ‘Is he stupid?’ she wondered, throwing the bed occupier a malicious
glare. ‘Does he actually believe that I’d think he’s my Grandma?’
“You’re not my Grandma,” she told him fiercely.
“I
am,” croaked a voice from underneath the rustling bedcovers. The bed occupier
fidgeted in hopes of distorting their voice.
“Can
the act Greg,” Red sighed. “I know it’s you.” Pulling her Grandma’s nightcap
off his head, Greg wriggled himself upright, leaning against the bed’s
headboard.
“Alright,”
he said with a smug grin. “You caught me.” He winked at her. Swallowing
nervously, Red glanced around the room.
“Where’s
my Granny?” she asked him worriedly, rubbing her hand against her neck.
Exhaling through his nose slightly, Greg stayed silent. “Greg…” Red said with
caution, feeling her chest pull tight with anxiety. Stepping back several
paces, she flashed her eyes around the room. ‘What’s he done with here?’ she
asked herself. “Where is she?” she demanded.
A shuffling sound escaped through the wall’s built-in
wardrobe. Hearing a noise, Red’s head shot in the wardrobe’s direction. Greg
jerked himself forwards. Letting her vision leave the wardrobe slowly, Red
returned her sight to Greg. “What are you doing here?” Eyeing her basket, he
then looked her up and down.
“I
was looking for something sweet…” he told her. “And I think I found it.” His
smile made her heart thud and she felt her cheeks heat up. There was a shuffle
again in the distance. Ignoring it, Red dropped her basket down on a nearby
table and stepped slowly towards him, placing one foot directly in front of the
other, letting her hips sway.
His lips parted slowly, as she sat herself down on the
edge of the bed and pulled at the knot of her red cape. As the knot parted, the
hood slid from her head, floating down to the ground. Her auburn hair cascaded
from her shoulders. “I know what you’re after,” she said seductively, tilting
her head to one side as she perched herself on the edge of the bed. Stroking
her left hand up his right arm, she whispered, “You don’t really want the
basket… do you?” She pouted, leaning over him. Curling her left leg over her
right knee, her skirt rode up her leg.
His eyes drifted to her leg’s movement. Swallowing, his
eyes followed the curves of her body up from her legs to her mouth. Parting his
lips, he leaned forward, reaching his right hand out for her face. He stroked
her cheek. His nose brushed against hers. He closed his eyes.
Holding her breath, she edges away, weaving herself out
of his grasp. Backing slowly away to the wall, bearing a cheeky grin, her teeth
bit onto the edge of her cherry red bottom lip. Undoing the top button of her
blouse she watched him straighten. Leaning forwards, his head neared her, as if
controlled by a magnet. Curling her index finger towards herself, Red lured him
near. Eyes widening, he slid himself off the bed to pursue his interest.
He advanced. Reaching Red, Greg hooked his right arm
around her waist, pressing his left arm against the wall, beside her neck.
Leaning her face towards his, her lips parted as she brushed her leg against
his.
Millimetres from her lips pressing his, Red slipped away
under Greg’s arm. Undoing the bottom two buttons of her blouse she reached out
for the bedroom’s door, before turning back to face him.
Confusion covered Greg’s face. One minute she was curved
in his grasp the next she was gone. His head shot in her direction. Fluttering
her eyelashes at him, she raised the edge of her skirt, revealing more of her
upper leg. Curling her index finger towards herself once more, she skipped out
of the bedroom door. He smirked. She was playing hard-to-get. Hearing a clatter
of furniture, Greg found himself frowning, before continuing out to follow her.
His grin returned and grew further still as he entered
the living room. Red was sat, leaning back in a wooden chair in the room’s
centre. With her head tilted to one side and her legs spread, Greg could not
bring himself to rush to her side fast enough. As he neared her, Red rose from
the chair, waited until he stopped in front of her, then circled him. He turned
following her. Stroking her hand up his torso, reaching his chest she pushed
him into the chair. In one fast tug, he pulled off his shirt.
She stepped slowly to his right and behind the chair.
Greg arched his head, waiting for her to reappear on the other side. He heard
rustling. Twisting himself around to his left, he wondered what was keeping
her.
Something pulled at his right hand. He twisted his wrist
trying to free it from imprisonment. He turned to his right, tugging his arm.
His wrist was trapped. Something scratched at his other arm. He turned his
head. “Red…?” he called out, worry showing in his voice. Rocking to the left
then right he tried to free his arms.
The floor boards creaked. Red came out from behind him.
Rope in her hands she strapped him to the chair. “Hey!” he yelled, his voice
hoarse. “What are you doing?” Looping the rope around the chair, Red tightened
it.
“How
dare you!” she raged, receiving pleasure from tightening the ropes grip around
his body. Noticing that Greg could kick out his legs in protest at any moment,
Red bound them to the chair as fast as her arms would allow.
With her task now complete, Red stood back and admired
her work. Knotted to the chair, Greg attempted rocking himself from left to
right in order to try and free himself. Re-buttoning her partially undone
blouse, Red snarled, “How dare you!” once more.
“What?”
muttered Greg, surprised by her anger, struggling to twitch his arm free from
the knots Red had tied around them.
“You’re
disgusting,” she spat at him, folding her arms, after lowering her skirt back
to its normal length, having previously raised it. Shaking his head, Greg
attempted to shrug his shoulders, oblivious to her sudden hatred of him. “You
lure me away from the road, ask me where I’m going, break into my Granny’s
house, lock her up in the wardrobe and what – attempt to sleep with me… and in
my Granny’s bed?” Holding her hand to her mouth, Red tried to hide her
gagging repulsion. Turning her back to him, she marched off to the bedroom.
“Hey!” he called after her. “Don’t you even want to hear
me out?”
Turning
abruptly to him, scowl placed on her face, she snarled, “Try me.” Tapping her
foot with impatience she returned her hands to their previous folded position.
Greg swallowed. His brow dripped with sweat.
“I
wanted you,” he said blinking away drips of sweat from his forehead. Her
expression remained unchanged. “You’re beautiful… Red… I-”
Repulsed at the sight of him and board with his
reasoning, Red ran to her Grandma’s bedroom. Yanking at the wardrobe door, Red
flung it open. Eyes pierced open upon the closet’s burst of light. Gasping at
the sight of her Grandma tied up in silk scarves, Red tugged at the scarf’s
knot, which muzzled her Grandma’s mouth. As Red removed the scarf, her Grandma
gasped for air. “Oh Red,” she breathed. “Red, are you alright?”
“I’m
fine,” Red said with frustration, digging her nails into another knot. In
desperation to free her Grandma, Red’s fingers moved faster than her brain
could translate to them instructions. “But what about you, Granny? How did he
do this? Did he hurt you? Did he-”
Shaking
her head, Red’s Grandma told her in a clam motherly tone, “I’m fine. It’s you I
was worried about.”
Pulling away at the last knot, Red freed her Grandmother
from the tangle of scarves. ‘She’s the one tied up and she’s worrying about
me.’ Smirking slightly, Red shook her head. “Seriously Granny, I can look after
myself. I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“No,”
said her Grandma with a smile, squeezing hold of Red’s cheeks. “I guess you’re
not.”
*
The pair
of them ventured to the living room, where Red presented to her Grandmother the
beast, who had incarcerated her and tried his luck at Red. Tied to the chair by
Red’s late Grandfather’s old sailor’s rope, Greg growled, still struggling to
free himself. “Why,” Red’s Grandma smiled with admiration at her Granddaughter.
“You tied him up good and proper… your Grandfather would be proud.” Red bowed
her head, blushing from her Grandma’s compliment. Nearing Greg, Red’s
Grandmother observed Red’s handiwork. “I bet your Grandfather’s smiling down at
us, glad that his blasted rope finally came in for good use.”
Still rocking from side to side, Greg’s limbs began to
exhaust. “Let me go,” he growled between his teeth.
“After
what you did?” Red said with disgust. “Never. You can stay there until you
rot.”
“Now,
now dear,” Red’s Grandma warned, sensing her Granddaughter’s anger. “There are
better ways to settle things.”
*
Seconds
crept by like minutes, minutes like hours. Red found herself constantly
checking the clock. Half the day had passed by the time a pair of police
constables arrived. Taking charge of the situation, they hardly believed Red’s
tale. “A little girl could never come up with such an elaborate scheme,” one of
the officers protested.
“Of
course,” Red’s Grandma replied, who had boasted of her Granddaughter’s bravery
on more than one occasion. “Any ordinary girl could never have dreamt up such a
story, but this is no ordinary little girl. She’s smarter, braver and more
cunning than our young fellow here,” she said gesturing towards Greg, who
remained tied to the chair. “Why, you’ll be telling Red’s story for years to
come.”
*
What
Red’s Grandma said was true: her story was told for years and years to come…
just not the original. Her mother refused to allow anyone to the truth. She
even refused to believe it herself: that her little girl had flaunted herself
in order to capture a beast such as Greg. And what happened to Greg? The police
still unbelieving in Red’s tale, Greg got away with nothing more than a
restraining order. Leaving his home on the outskirts of the forest, Greg was
never seen by Red again. To her mother’s relief, Red never spoke of her story
to anyone either, keeping what happened a secret between herself, her
Grandmother and Greg. And that’s how the brave acts of a young woman became
twisted to the children’s tale you know today.
But how do I know all of this and why should you believe
me? Well to that the answer is simple, for the one you know as ‘Little Red
Riding Hood’ is in actual fact me.
- Josie -
