They drew closer and closer. There would be no escape.
What about Gretta? Maybe I could run down and get her to undo the curse so I could die. Or maybe they were coming for Gretta alone and didn’t know about me at all.
I felt the vibration of their approach.
Well, I’d made it 50 years since Father died. If only I knew I could find that sweet release, I would gladly surrender myself to their flames. It was the fear of not being able to succumb that drove me to self-protection. The fear of eternal torment—being burned at the stake and never dying. There had to be a way out. There had to be a way to die.
But Gretta would never tell me. No matter how many times I asked her what it would take to break the curse, she wouldn't tell me.
One man stepped forward as leader of the pack and pounded on the front door, his face angry with accusation. The men standing behind him strained toward the door, the bloodlust evident in their eyes.
Would Gretta answer?
“Come out! I know you're in there—both of you!” The man shouted as he pounded.
Well, so much for slipping away unnoticed. I sighed with the realization that I was facing defeat.
I watched from the tower as the front door slowly opened. Gretta pasted on her most friendly smile. “What’s all the commotion? What can I help you boys with today?”
“We hear this town has been entertaining some witches in this castle. Something must be done, and we are here to do it.”
The men cheered in unison.
Gretta laughed. “Witches? Nothing witchy about us. Just two ladies living alone, trying to make ends meet and take care of our needs without doing anything we’ll regret when we meet our maker.” She narrowed her gaze. “You know, you boys wouldn’t want to do anything you'd regret. Would you?”
A burly man stepped from behind the pack, his face red with fury. “Is that a threat? I dare you to threaten me, witch.”
Gretta waved her hand. “Now I would never do such a thing. How could I threaten you? You're a big, strong man, and I'm a little old lady. I don't think it's much of a fair fight.”
“Where’s the other one? You said two ladies. Where is she?”
I knew I’d better hurry down to the door or they’d break in and come find me. I took the steps two at a time and was at the front door in a flash.
“What’s all the noise about, Grandmother?” Thank goodness I’d heard her claim about our relationship previously. Besides, it was the only explanation that made sense.
“Hello, dear. These nice men are just wondering who we are, since we’ve never been introduced proper-like.” Gretta threw wide the door. “Boys, this is my granddaughter.”
I heard a few of them gasp. The others just stared with jaws dragging the ground.
“Hello, miss. You’re quite lovely.” A man said, then lifted his torch above his head.
“Well, thank you very much.” I gave a slight curtsey and stared back at them with a question in my eyes. As long as no fear showed through, I believed we stood a chance.
“We’re very sorry to have bothered you like this, ladies. You’re obviously not what we thought.” The man in charged tipped his hat. “If you’ll forgive us, we’ll be on our way.”
“No harm done.” Gretta smiled. “In fact, we feel much safer knowing that men like you are working to keep our town safe. Blessings, boys.”
Each man tipped his hat and hurried away.
Gretta closed the door and I slumped against the wall. That could have ended so differently than it had. “Now will you fix this mess? Don’t you see the danger you’re in?”
Gretta’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, no, my dear. If I removed the curse, I’d never be able to see theatrics like that again. You were magnificent!”
***
The sound of Pepper's vehicle flying down the lane pulled me from my memory. I shifted my gaze toward the man on the hillside, but he was gone. Who was he? I'd probably never know.
It wasn't long before Pepper’s car made it to the mailbox behind the grassy knoll where I reclined.
“Hey, chic!” She flapped her hand like a hummingbird’s wing. She slowed the Jeep to a halt and waved the dust away from her face. Pepper pulled off her glasses then squinted at me as she cleaned them with the hem of her shirt. Her eyes looked smaller when she didn't have them on. Just seeing Pepper made me smile. She liked to wear her short brown hair in an unruly, spikey style and usually added temporary color to the tips. This time they were purple.
“I'm doing well. You've changed your hair.” I smiled. “I love it.”
She reached up to touch the purple locks. I was jealous that I couldn't do the same. What would it be like to have a hairstyle?