Chapter 2

“Save it. We’re gonna have a little chat you and me.” Gretel grabbed Hyram Woolfe by the scruff of the neck. For his part, Woolfe offered no resistance and simply went limp and whimpered as Gretel dragged him over to the table where Hansel and Pinocchio still sat.

“My own mother stopped treating my like a pup years ago,” he complained, as Gretel dumped him in an empty seat.

“Obviously, she doesn’t know you as well as I do. Maybe I should call her up?”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Detective. What can I do for you?”

“I hear your old pal Granny Witch is back in business. You used to supply the muscle for her organization.”

Woolfe fidgeted in his chair. “I wouldn’t know anything about that. Strictly Kosher diet for me these days.”

Gretel let a small hmph escape her lips.

“I found God while I was doing time, or rather He found me,” Woolfe continued. “I assure you I am a reformed citizen. Ask Rabbi Rabinowitz. He sees me every sabbath.”

“And I’m sure the rabbi would love to know what you got up to before your miraculous reformation.”

“Your threats won’t work detective. I have confessed my sins before God. My conscience is clean.”

Gretel pulled out her phone and swiped through several a few pictures of puppies dressed in spiked collars and black leather muzzles crawling all over a smiling wolf that bore a striking resemblance to Hyram, and who appeared to be already half out of his suit and tie within just the first few frames.

“You sure you confessed everything, Hyram? I can keep going. And I just so happen to have Rabbi Rabinowitz’s email address in my contact list. We have adjacent seats at the opera. Did you know that? As a concerned citizen I could just email these right on over …”

“Wait!” Woolfe slumped in his seat and whined. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just make a few introductions, Wolfie Baby. That’s all.” Gretel patted Hyram on the jowl a few times. “To whoever’s providing the muscle for Granny Witch’s operation now.”

Gretel double-parked the unmarked sedan at the end of the block in a very seedy part of town. She instructed Hansel and Pinocchio to stay put while she followed Hyram to find Granny Witch.

“Tra-la-la, motherfucker,” said the very large boar blocking the tenement building’s doorway and peering down his snout at Hyram and Gretel. “Yo ass ain’t welcome ’round here, capisce? ‘Specially when you be bringin’ the five-oh wit’ you.”

“Look, little piggie,” Gretel said, standing toe to toe with the large boar. “Your boss is into some bad shit, and I’m takin’ her down. So unless you want to go down with her, I suggest you step aside and let us come in.”

The boar didn’t move. “Or what? You gonna huff and puff an’ all that shit?”

“These are rental properties, right?” Gretel said.

The door guard nodded almost imperceptibly.

“And I’m sure everything is up to code.”

The large boar blocking the doorway started to look a little less imposing as the color slowly drained from his cheeks.

Gretel stood firm, brandishing her mobile phone. “One call to city hall and I’ll have an army of inspectors down here checking every square inch of the place just to make sure. What do you say, little piggie? Wanna let us come in?”

The boar snorted, but shifted his bulk enough so that Gretel and Hyram could pass.

The dingy central foyer of the tenement building was lit by a single working bulb somewhere up on the third floor. All around, doors were all off their hinges. Some leaned up against the walls, others missing completely, leaving each apartment as a menacing maw in an otherwise uninviting hallway. The stink of human sweat and decay hung in the air.

“Oy vey,” Hyram whined, pinching his nose.

“Charming, isn’t it?”

At their approach a woman who looked almost middle-aged, but who was realistically no more than eighteen, shuffled out of a doorway, her eyes sunken and crusted with a gunky mucus.

“Candy?” she croaked. “You got some candy?”

“This is disgusting,” Hyram said.

“You used to work here.”

“It wasn’t like this.” Hyram shook his head. “Back then it was just kids having fun, you know. Sneak a little sugar here and there to feel good. No harm, just fun. The good old days.”

Gretel thought back to what Hyram termed the good old days. Thought about being locked up in Granny Witch’s kitchen as a child, along with her brother Hansel while the old woman continually threatened to cook them and eat them if they didn’t make deliveries for her.

Thank goodness they were able to escape.

Gretel had forgiven her father for is part in their ordeal, though Hansel still refused to acknowledge his existence, even to fix the old man’s kitchen sink. But her mother — Gretel had not been able to forgive her mother to this day.

It was her mother’s own secret addiction to candy that had drained all the money from their coffers, and made her decide to turn Hansel and Gretel loose in the city to fend for themselves.

Hate the drug, not the user is what her therapist said. Hate the sin, not the sinner is what Rabbi Rabinowitz said. But it would be a cold day in hell before Gretel forgave the sins of her mother.

She trudged on, side-by-side with Hyram Woolfe, through dingy, littered hallways and up creaking stairs until finally coming to the only apartment with a door still on it.

Gretel stopped. “This has got to be it.”

“I think you’re right.” Hyram sniffed at the air. “Smells disgustingly sweet.”

Gretel drew her service automatic while Hyram turned the doorknob.

Beyond the door was nothing like the stinking, trash-filled hallway outside. Inside was bright and cheery, smelling only of cakes and iced treats. Gretel inhaled deeply, remembering the scent from her younger days and smiled in spite of herself. Hyram just scowled.

“Hello, my dear.” Granny Witch stepped around the corner to greet them. She was grinning like a Cheshire cat and wearing large designer shades as if she were some sort of celebrity who didn’t want to be recognized by her adoring fans.

But Gretel knew the truth. She knew that the sunglasses only served to hide the twisted and scarred sockets where her eyes used to be. The very eyes that Gretel had gouged out so many years ago while she and Hansel made their escape.

“Old habits die hard, eh?” Granny Witch cackled. “Well, I suppose I’ll still sell you some, Deary. Even after the calling card you left on my lovely face. Youthful indiscretion. I won’t let that stand in the way of business. I know your mother never did.”

Gretel heard a low growl emanating from Hyram, but neither one of them moved. Gretel refused to be goaded.

“Your pretty little girlfriend didn’t either.” Granny Witch reached into her apron and produced a rose gold iPhone with a bedazzled protective case. “Ever wonder why she never called you back.”

One moment Gretel was standing in the doorway with Hyram. The next, she was poised directly in front of Granny Witch, with the barrel of her service automatic pressed firmly against the old woman’s forehead.

“If you so much as put one hair out of place on Cinderella’s head.” Gretel gritted her teeth and began pulling back on the trigger. The automatic’s double-action put up a good deal of resistance, but Gretel was determined. She clenched her jaw and squeezed tighter still.

Hyram placed a hand on her shoulder. “To return a wrong for a wrong is not the way, Gretel. You’ll never be able to live with yourself.”

There was a flash of light as the weapon in Gretel’s hands roared and a cloud of smoke filled the air.

Gretel let the pistol drop to her side, her shoulders slumped forward as she looked at the hole in the wall two feet to the right of Granny Witch. She couldn’t do it. After all these years and all that hate, she still couldn’t do it.

“You’ll always be a violent little hussy, Gretel. And when it comes right down to it, you’ll always fail. Old habits die hard.” The old woman cackled, still audible even with the gunshot ringing in Gretel’s ears. “Granny knows exactly what makes you tick, Gretel. Granny always knows. Have some candy, my dear.”

Hyram Woolfe put his arm around Gretel and guided her toward the door. He turned to take one last look at Granny Witch. “Where’s Cinderella?” he growled.

“Second floor, first apartment on the right. She’s not a prisoner, you know. She likes it here. More than she likes being with you, Gretel. Just like your mother. What do you think about that, eh?” The old woman’s cackle echoed throughout the hallway long after Hyram dragged Gretel over the threshold.

It didn’t take long for Hyram and Gretel to reach the apartment. Gretel found Cinderella in a back bedroom, beautiful ball gown soiled and torn, lying on a dingy old mattress that had been pushed up against one corner of the room. There were cake crumbs and bonbon wrappers strewn about the room and Cinderella had chocolate stains all over her pale and gaunt cheeks.

Cinderella raised her head just enough to acknowledge Gretel, and blinked a few times before collapsing back onto the mattress. “There’s no more candy,” she said. “I ate it all.”

Gretel reached out to Cinderella, her hand shaking as tears streamed down her face.

“I’ll go get the car,” Hyram whispered. Gretel sniffled a little and nodded.

Cinderella shrank back and hugged her knees to her chest. “Do you know how hard it is?” she said. “Having to be beautiful and perfect all the time?

“I eat rice cakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Gretel. Fucking rice cakes!” Cinderella sobbed. “I put peanut butter on one once, just for a little variety. I felt guilty for days. Do you know what that’s like, Gretel? Do you? All I wanted was some candy. A little sweetness. Is that so wrong?”

Gretel rubbed her thumb under her eyes but said nothing.

“Just go.” Cinderella curled into a ball and turned to face the wall. “Tell them you couldn’t find me, okay?”

Gretel cleared away a pile of wadded up candy wrappers and knelt beside Cinderella, and in spite of the woman’s reluctance, she hugged Cinderella’s head to her chest.

Several minutes passed before Gretel spoke. “Come on, I’m taking you home. Get you some soup. Then maybe later in the week, if you’re feeling up to it, we can stop by and I’ll introduce you to my mother.”

Okay, so it wasn’t a happy little romp like some of my other fairy tale remixes, but I think the ending was satisfying nonetheless. Hate the sin, not the sinner. Remember that as you go into the new year.