"Grim Encounters" (A Short Story)

Far away and just as long ago, in the since-revitalized village of Steinau, there lived two beloved brothers who, although they endured a brutal poverty, served as a blessing to all who observed their good-naturedness and benevolence. On the late-October evening of this particular tale, Jakob and Wilhelm were making their way home through a bitter autumn wind that nipped at their bare noses. The boys were in considerably high spirits despite a trying afternoon at the schoolhouse, and as they sauntered along the pathway, they talked freely of the day’s ordeals.

“Have you recovered your missing slate yet?” Jakob asked, his face betraying earnest concern. At thirteen years old, he was the eldest of 9 children, and especially following their papa’s death two years prior, his relation to his siblings was often more paternal than it was brotherly.

“Nein, I never found it,” Wilhelm admitted regretfully. “Herr Lehmann was rather indignant when I showed up to my lessons without it.”

“Well do not let it ail you, I trust it will show up in good time. Besides in the meanwhile, you can always borrow my— mein Gott!”

Jakob came to an abrupt halt and stared in bewilderment at the terrain. Upon it sat a strange amphibian critter with wide, bulging eyes and wart-covered skin, which would have been crushed underfoot had its resonant croaks not announced its presence. Frogs were certainly not foreign to the village, but something about this one’s demeanor made it seem cognizant, almost human.

Jakob and Wilhelm examined the specimen and as they did, although neither brother externalized the thought, they were both reminded of the characters from the stories their papa used to tell. Before his death, their father had fallen ill with pneumonia, and with each month that passed since he contracted the disease, his stories got increasingly less elaborate. Eventually he was altogether unable to narrate, and now all that remained of his tales existed in the familial comfort that the children affiliated them with.

So while neither Jakob nor Wilhelm were particularly fond of amphibian beasts, they unspokenly resolved to follow it. And consequently, when the frog bounded off the pathway, across the creek, and into the woods, that’s exactly where the boys went.

* * * * * 

Whether it was the forest that became progressively denser or the frog that became progressively faster, the intensive pursuit seemed more and more hopeless with every step the brothers took. They chased the creature up hills and down gulleys, over bridges and under fallen logs, all the while speculating where it might be leading them. For as long as they ran, not once did the thought of turning back ever cross their minds, and when the frog eventually disappeared into a thicket of shrubs, they got onto their hands and knees without hesitation and crawled after it through the brambles.

“Austch, Jakob! These thistles are scratching my arms,” Wilhelm cried out as the two of them plodded hurriedly into the shrubs.

“Mine, too,” Jakob responded through clenched teeth. “We must be nearing the other side, though.”

“How can you be sure? It seems to go on forever.” Wilhelm, being the youngest, had followed in behind his brother who had instinctively taken the lead. So however much he strained to see what was ahead of him, his only view was of his brother’s tattered leather breeches.

“We are coming up to a glade. I can see it through the branches.” Jakob reported, and when he was finally able to push his way through the last of the brambles, he brushed the debris from his clothing and looked around in awe. “Look for yourself!”

Wilhelm followed seconds later, stumbling out of the bushes and onto the ground.

The brothers found themselves in a broad, open clearing. Sun rays showered down from the opening in the forest’s roof in such a way that the entire scene seemed otherworldly and transcendent, like one of the enchanted woodlands from their papa’s fairy stories. It was as if they had somehow wound up in an entirely different realm, far from their village and far from their home. All that was missing from the picture was their olive-skinned object of pursuit.

“Now where could that frog have gone?” Jakob pondered aloud.

“I do not see any sign of it. Perhaps it—”

Just then, Wilhelm felt a tugging at his waistcoat. When he turned around to determine its source, he saw what appeared to be a tiny man staring back at him. He only came up to the boy’s knees, and could have passed for a child were it not for his long, knotted beard and wrinkled face. His limbs were long and spindly, especially in proportion to his dwarfish height, and his clothing were loose around his body. It reminded Jakob of the way his papa’s clothes used to hang slack from his scrawny arms. He lost so much weight since he fell ill with pneumonia that his ribs protruded from his body like the trees protrude from the earth.

“Hello sir,” Wilhelm greeted after recovering from his initial surprise. “Ah, can you help us? We’re looking for a frog.”

The man barely seemed to register the question. He offered no response, and instead continued to stare up at the brothers unabashedly. Wilhelm eyed his brother for help, and Jakob stepped in.

“My name is Jakob, and this is my brother Wilhelm,” he said, clearly articulating each syllable. “What is your name?”

At that, the man burst into a fit of gleeful laughter. He held his stomach and skipped away from the clearing, singing and giggling: “What is my name? What is my name?”

“Come back!” Jakob yelled, grabbing his brother’s hand and running after him. “Please sir. We need your help.”

As the two brothers ran deeper into the forest a different noise caught their attention. A beautiful instrumental melody echoed through the trees, one that was far more interesting than the little man’s cackling voice. At the sound of the song, the boys looked at each other in wonder. “Do you hear that?” Jakob asked, entranced by the haunting tune.

“Where could it be coming from?” Wilhelm seemed to breathe the words out, completely captivated. The only thought that occupied his mind was sourcing the mysterious melody.

“I am not sure, but look over there!”

Wilhelm directed his gaze in the direction his brother pointed, and just caught sight of a laddish youth before he disappeared into the woods. From what Wilhelm saw, the young man was clad in a bright, colourful coat and held a wooden pipe in his hands, from which came the most beautiful tune the boys had ever heard. But the most extraordinary part of it all was the train of creatures that seemed to trail behind the lad. Most were rodents, but there were also a number of other small mammals that seemed to scamper hurriedly after the piper. And for some inexplicable reason, Jakob and Wilhelm were instantly convinced to do the same.

They started off, first walking and soon sprinting, in the direction of the music. But before they had been running for very long, two cold, bony hands grabbed onto their ankles and pulled them to the ground. As the brothers struggled to break free, they caught a glimpse of their captor. She was a hideous thing of nearly seven feet. Through her matted nest of hair and her massive pointed hat, Jakob and Wilhelm could make out a face of sagging skin on which lay a malicious smile.

“Hello, my dears.” The woman croaked. “I do say, you two would make a tasty meal.”

The brothers stared up at her, mute with terror. Jakob’s mind raced, desperately searching for something he could use to protect his little brother— a stone, a stick, anything. ‘What would papa do?’ he kept thinking to himself. The thought got louder and louder until the voice in his head was practically screaming at him. ‘What would papa do?’ 

“You have nothing to fear, children,” coaxed the woman. “You will not feel a thing.” And at that, she lifted a large club-like branch from the forest floor and raised it over her head, about to strike.

Jakob and Wilhelm held each other in their arms and cowered together, frozen in place. They expected a blow to come down on them any second, and they closed their eyes, whispering to each other panickedly.

“This cannot be happening.” Jakob muttered under his breath. “This cannot be happening.”

“Jakob?” Wilhelm whispered.

“What is it?”

“We are so alone.”

“I know, Wilhelm.” Jakob clung to his brother tighter and buried his face into his coat. “I miss papa.”

“I miss him too.”

* * * * * 

“You boys seem to be far from home.”

In place of the wicked old woman’s brittle, throaty voice, a masculine voice sounded instead. Slowly, the brothers opened their eyes and lifted their gaze on the speaker. A sturdy, muscular lumberman stood, towering over them, holding a hatchet in one hand and a bundle of freshly-cut wood in the other. Despite his intimidating image, his face was soft and his eyes were gentle.

“Sir?” Jakob asked, his voice still quivering with fear. “Where has the old woman gone? Pardon my asking, but has she become you? Or rather, is she inside of you?”

“Old woman?” the lumberman laughed heartily. “Do you think I look like an old woman?”

“I think she was a witch,” Wilhelm chimed in. “She was standing just there. Perhaps, you…” Wilhelm trailed off and stared at the hatchet hanging from the man’s hand.

The lumberman shouldered his bundle of wood and put up his axe. Chuckling, he took the brothers by their hands.

“Sorry sir, but can you not hear that melody?” Jakob persisted. He could still hear the piper’s tune on the distant wind.

“And have you happened to see any frogs nearby?” Wilhelm added.

“You children have such vivid imaginations. Someone ought to be writing this nonsense down,” the lumberman said, shaking his head to himself. “Come along, I will lead you back to the village. It is nearing dusk.”

As the three of them walked hand in hand back to the village, Wilhelm spotted a dark tablet-shaped object in the soil. He pulled away from the party to take a closer look, and after brushing away the dirt from its surface, he recognized it as his missing slate from the schoolhouse. Relieved, Wilhelm picked it up, tucked it under his arm, and ran to catch up with his brother.