My Name is Rapunzel(58)
I entered the foyer and pulled the door shut. Banging came from the direction of the kitchen. And what was that awful smell?
“Rapunzel? Is that you?” Gretta's voice bellowed out. Oh, no! Gretta had come home early. Had she seen me with John? Had she seen us kiss? “Rapunzel?”
“Yes, it's me,” I said. Who else would it be?
I peeked in the kitchen. No one there. I walked just beyond to the library and found Gretta stirring something in that huge cast iron pot, hanging over the fire.
“What are you cooking in there? It stinks worse than usual.” I hope she didn’t expect me to eat whatever she was brewing.
Gretta let out an eerie cackle—the same one I heard those many years ago. I took a step back. What was she up to?
“It's not dinner, if that's what you're asking. Where have you been?” Her back remained to me. She was too busy with her witch’s brew to face me, not that I cared to look in her eyes.
I cleared my throat, not knowing what to say. I couldn't tell her that I sent a letter to the newspaper and had been spending time with John. Most of all, I couldn't tell her I was telling him my story. “I was just walking the property. It was a nice day for it.” I think she bought it.
“I saw you with that boy. Don't lie to me, Rapunzel!” I was caught. Gretta's back was still toward me.
“He's just a friend.” Why was I defending myself to her? It was none of her business.
“I don't know what you think you're doing spending time with him. And I know you've been seeing him, so don't pretend otherwise, but it needs to stop,” Gretta said in an even tone.
“You can't tell me what to do!” I raised my voice. How dare she tell me what to do? This was my home and she could leave for all I cared.
“I have let you think you’re in charge long enough, dearie. You’d better mind yourself or you’ll find out who really holds the keys around here. Speaking of keys…” Gretta steadied her voice and turned to me with narrowed eyes. “Did you really think a lock would keep me out?”
A chill ran up my spine as a frigid breeze blew through the room.
“Nothing can come of the friendship you have with that boy. Did you honestly think you could have a life with him?” Gretta raised her voice, gathering strength with each word. “How long will it take before he realizes you do not age and that you may very well be immortal? What will happen then? No man alive would want to be with you, Rapunzel. Not any in his right mind, anyway.”
What could I say to that? Gretta was right. Who in his right mind would want to be with me? I'm not even sure I could have children. If I did marry someone and had a family, before too long, my children would look older than me, just as Luke had. As much as I hated to admit it, Gretta was right and she knew it. Maybe she truly was trying to protect me.
“You've angered the dragon.” It wasn't a question. “I heard his roar well before dark. He’s getting bolder. I can't wait to be rid of that beast!”
“What do you mean? Are you planning something?” I demanded. Did she really want to get rid of the dragon? How could she possibly make it happen? Was she brewing poison in that pot? I folded my arms. I wasn’t leaving without an answer. “I asked you a question, Gretta.”
“How could I, an old woman, possibly get rid of a dragon?” Gretta said, then laughed under her breath, her back still to me. “It's been nearly 250 years and that beast is still hanging around. I don't care much for it, and I wish it would just go away or die.”
“That's a horrible thing to say,” I spat out. “The dragon has become my protector and you know it. That’s why you hate him.” Gretta didn't say a word, just continued to stir the brew. She wanted the dragon dead because he defended me. I couldn't let any harm come to it or who knows what would happen. I needed to be more careful and watch Gretta closer. I needed to find out what she was up to, because it was something.
I couldn't let anything happen to the dragon. My dragon.
Gretta cleared her throat, and then turned to face me. “Think about it, Rapunzel. If the dragon were gone, we could leave this place. We could travel the world.” She gazed into her pot. “We wouldn't be tied down to any one place, and you would never be recognized.”
She had a point, but there was no way she meant it. Gretta was up to something and I was going to find out what it was. I stepped closer to the pot she had simmering on the stove and peered inside. Murky blackness. What was in that brew?
“Since when has there ever been a we?” I asked. She'd never cared about me, ever. She took away my life and Henry…and my Luke. Everyone I’d ever loved. How could I ever hope she’d let me love in peace? Would she go after John next?