Alison Paige: Little Red and the Wolf

Confusion vanished, Granny’s bright-blue eyes turned steely with determination. “You need money, dear? Tell Granny. I’ve got a little something in the coffee can on top of the fridge. Take what you need, Little Red. That’s why it’s there.”

Maizie squeezed Granny’s hand, gently, careful not to harm her brittle bones or bruise the velvet soft skin. “No, Gran. I’m good. The bakery’s finally turning a profit this year.”

It was half true. The bakery she’d opened two years ago, Red Hood Bakery, a play on her flaming hair color and nickname, was in the black for the first time, mostly. Maizie’s personal finances, however, were a brighter red than her hair. Nursing homes, good ones, weren’t cheap.

In a perfect world Maizie would’ve kept Granny with her and cared for her on her own. The world is far from perfect though, and Granny’s medical needs, her hatred of the city and the time demands of a new business made a nursing home the best and only option for both of them.

Of course that didn’t stop Maizie from brutalizing herself with guilt. She’d bankrupt herself, and the bakery if she had to, to make sure Granny had the best care. With any luck, the bank would approve her loan application and none of it would be a concern anymore. The truth was, selling the cottage she’d grown up in and the hundred and three acres it sat on would solve so many problems.

“When’s the last time anyone checked on the cottage?” Maizie asked.

“Oh, my handsome silver wolf checked in on it just the other day. Everything’s fine. He said he put fresh violets in the vase on the sill. They’re my favorite, you know?” Granny’s smile bunched the extra skin on her cheeks, a flush of color making her look ten years younger.

Maizie hissed an oath under her breath. Just like that, Granny was lost to one of her spells again. At least this one Maizie knew. This wolf, Granny’s big silver wolf, had been a part of her childhood, a character in her bedtime stories. Granny seemed to forget he was make-believe sometimes. Maizie could play along though and still have a relatively sane visit with her grandmother.

“What else did your silver wolf say? He didn’t air out the place by any chance? Maybe check the gutters and the cellar, make sure no critters had moved in.”

Maizie hadn’t had time to stop by and check on the old place for months. Surrounded by Granny’s hundred acres and the neighbor’s four hundred acres, the little house was nestled chimney deep in dense forest. All manner of wild things tended to take over in no time.

Granny nodded, her smile never faltering. “Yes, dear. He checked everything. My big silver wolf knows how important that place is to me. Says he’s keeping it just how I left it for when I move back.”

Maizie swallowed the sudden knot in her throat. She’d had no idea Granny believed she’d return to the cottage one day. “Gran…”

“Relax, dear. You’ll blow a fuse. We both know living in that cottage is too much for me like this. I can barely take a tinkle on my own. He’s just a tease, is all. Tempting me. I like it. Makes me laugh.”

“Makes you laugh, huh? You always told me he was a big bad wolf. Gave me nightmares with those stories about how he’d eat me up if I went playing too deep into the forest. Told me all about his great big ears and razor-sharp teeth…”

“Oh, that. Well I suppose he could’ve mistaken you for a tasty fawn or a fox or something, but mostly I just didn’t want you wandering off too far and pestering the poor thing.”

“So it was a parenting tactic? Nice.” Maizie squeezed a playful wink at Granny. “Maybe I’ll go out there and see what’s so special about this handsome silver wolf that you’d terrorize my childhood to protect him.”

“No, no, I don’t think that’s wise. He’s decent and polite, but there’s still a wild beast in him. Don’t ever forget that, Little Red. No. It’s best you just leave him be. Besides, you hardly lived your childhood in terror. You were the most fearless little thing I’d ever seen. Worse than your father. I can’t think of anything that could shake you, except…”

Maizie’s heart stuttered. The two of them fell silent. She knew where Granny’s thoughts had gone, same as her own. The night of her parents’ death. The car accident. The haunting eyes a luminous green through the windshield. There and then not. It was too dark, too much rain. Her father couldn’t see, couldn’t stop in time. He swerved, but it was too late. The vicious roll down the embankment was inevitable, unstoppable.

How had she survived? She didn’t know. Couldn’t remember. But she remembered those eyes.

Maizie still saw them long after the image of the aftermath had faded, the broken body of a wolf pinned beneath the car, her parents in the front seat, their faces and bodies cut and battered beyond recognition, glass everywhere, twisted metal, the smell of burnt rubber and gasoline, the coppery taste of her own blood in her mouth. Wild green eyes had tormented her for years. God, she hated that wolf.

“Yeah, well. That was a long time ago.” Maizie didn’t want to remember anymore.

“Yes, it was dear. You’ve come so far since then.”

Maizie forced a smile and steered the topic away from those dark memories. “And here you are still talking about that mysterious silver wolf coming around here, making you laugh, tempting you. C’mon, Gran, what’s he tempting you with? Is it something that’ll make me blush?”

Granny didn’t bat an eye. “With becoming one of them, of course. That’s the only way this old body would ever make it back to the cottage, isn’t it?”

“One of them?”

“Yes, sweetheart, a lycanthrope. A shape shifter.” She sighed at Maizie’s continued confusion. “A werewolf, child. A werewolf.”

“Annette, it’s Mr. Lupo.” Gray adjusted the BlackBerry against his ear.

“Yes, Mr. Lupo?”

“Get me everything there is on a Maizie Hood. And I mean everything, business and personal. I want it all. We should have her numbers on file with her grandmother Ester’s.” Hell, he’d helped Ester file for the kid’s social security number when she’d realized Maizie’s parents hadn’t. Back then it hadn’t been automatic.

“Maizie? The little girl from the-”

“Everything, Annette.”

“Yes, Mr. Lupo.”

Gray punched the disconnect button with his thumb and slipped the wide phone into his breast pocket. He stared out the darkened privacy window of his limo at nothing as they pulled from the driveway of the Green Acres Nursing Home.

Jeezus, he still couldn’t believe it was her. She’d changed so much, matured…beautifully. But her scent was the same, exactly the same, despite having taken a second to place it. Twenty-one years was a long time, even for him.

Gray shook his head, rubbed the weariness from his eyes with both hands. Maybe he was imagining it, the smell of broken trees, of sap, of gasoline and burnt rubber. He could still smell the blood in the air around her, the earth and rain. He could still taste the tears, hers, and his.

He had to be imagining it. His enhanced olfactory sense was good, but not twenty-one years good. Still, seeing Maizie Hood just now proved he’d made the right decision all those years ago. The memories swamped over him like quicksand, pulling him under so he could hardly breathe.

Back then, it would’ve killed him. He was right to ask her grandmother, Ester, to keep her away, at least keep her from venturing into his part of the forest. He just couldn’t bear her scent, the scent of death. She was told to stick to the paths, and he avoided them. It’d worked. Until today.

Gray snatched the newspaper from the pocket on the car wall. He leaned back, unfolded and refolded it with noisy crisp snaps. The ink was still moist, not so much that humans could smell, but they felt it on their fingers just as he did. It was a good feeling, a good smell, mundane. Innocuous.