Red.  

            It may be just a color to some, but to others it is the symbol of fear.  A long, soft, billowing cloak; dark braided hair; eyes that could pierce a man’s heart.  The biggest baddest huntress in the enchanted woods, otherwise known as The Red Hood.

Rumor had it that the woman could shoot the fuzz off a field mouse from a mile away.  But she didn’t hunt field mice.  Her main game was wolves.  And she never would fire from a distance.  She loved to lure the beasts in with traps of every kind, bringing them close.  And only then would she strike, ensuring that the last thing that the poor dogs would ever see was Red.

            All young wolves had heard the tales and had been warned of the dangerous huntress.  They were told to be careful when traveling through the woods and always remain vigilant for any snares the Red Lady might set.

            However, remaining vigilant can be a task for one who has not eaten in days.  Nebbish Wolf was starving.  Ever since he’d gotten that whopper of a cold and sneezed down two of the pig brother’s houses, he had not been very welcome in the third one’s home.  The last time he had tried he had almost ended up in one of their stews himself.  He’d had so many dinners at their houses, he’d come to depend on their scrumptious cooking.  

            Now, he was on his own.  He supposed he should probably hunt for something to eat, but that tended to mean eating rabbits or some other helpless animal.  That just wasn’t his style, so Nebbish sat with his stomach growling ferociously.  

The wolf was just beginning to drift off to sleep, when a tantalizing smell wafted over to him and hovered through his nostrils.  Nebbish’s eyes flashed open and his ears pricked at the sound of movement through the undergrowth.  Keeping himself low, he peered out through the bushes.  

A brown cloak, he made sure it was brown, covered a young girl carrying a basket.  The sweet scent of baked sweets was coming from the woven box.  It took everything Nebbish had not to lunge out and snatch the basket from the child.  Instead he took a deep breath and walked out to greet her.

“Pardon me, Miss,” the wolf began.  “I am terribly sorry for my impudence, but I was wondering if you could spare a morsel of--”  Nebbish froze, inches from the child as she unlatched the  large brown cloak allowing it to slip from her shoulders, revealing a much more menacing color.

The child, who was not a really a child, turned toward him.  “Oh, yes, you’re excused,” She whispered, a cold sadistic grin adding to the icy gleam in her black eyes.

Nebbish whirled around and bolted, right as the distant shout of a man yelled.  “Timber!”

A deafening crash echoed behind the terrified wolf. He dared not look back t until he knew he was far enough away; and even so, he kept moving when he did.  A tree had saved his life, Nebbish realized.  Well, a woodsman had at least.  That tree must have distracted Red.  That was the only explanation.  No wolf had gotten so close to the huntress and survived.

Nebbish smiled, feeling rather pleased with himself.  He had done what no other wolf had.  He had escaped the evil clutches of the ruthless witch.  Suddenly his stomach yowled ravenously.  His fear of being shot by Red had briefly made him forget about his hunger, but now it roared back at full throttle. He moaned and fell to his knees.  

Nebbish was desperate.  Maybe it truly was time for him to do his own hunting.  Another crunching sound from the path made the poor wolf start.  This time it was an old woman wearing a pink nightgown, a nightcap, and a pair of soft white bunny slippers.  

“Oh, look at you,” the woman crooned.  “Poor lonely puppy, all alone in these terrible woods.”

Nebbish let out a sigh of relief.  It wasn’t Red.  He cleared his throat.  “I apologize, madam, but you are mistaken.  I am a wolf, not a pup.  My name is Nebbish.”  The wolf bowed.  “And my dear woman, I must ask. If you consider these woods such a horrible place, why are you out in them?”  

The old lady tapped her chin thoughtfully.  “Since you are all alone, I shall take you home, and you will be my puppy.”  And without hesitation, the woman linked arms with Nebbish and began to drag him off.  

Nebbish was so surprised, that he did not resist.  He tried to speak many more times to the lady, but it was as though she was in her own little world.  She kept spouting out how she was going to clothe him and play with him.  It was only when she mentioned feeding him that Nebbish gave in.  He let the woman drag him to a small cottage, and into the little house.

The wolf glanced around till he caught sight of the kitchen.  Immediately, he started in that direction but was stopped by Granny.  “No, no,” she chided.  “Come with me.”

“Please madam, you mentioned food.”  Nebbish stared longingly back at the fully stocked shelves as the old woman dragged him away.  

“I don’t have much to choose from.”  Granny said.

Nebbish was forced to sit at the end of the woman’s bed, as she went through her closet.  The wolf swung his legs, anxiously.  “Please—” he tried again.

“Oooh!”  The grandma exclaimed.  “This was the gown I wore when I met my husband.”  Granny twirled out of the closet, holding an identical night gown to the one that she was wearing.

Nebbish’s shoulders slumped.  This woman obviously was a little out of sorts.  Suddenly with no warning she lunged forward and tackled Nebbish.  The wolf could see nothing but pink frills as he struggled.  His head popped out of the hole of the pajamas as Granny yanked his arms through the sleeves.  Then the crazy woman stood back and admired Nebbish.  Granny’s eyes welled up with tears.  “You’re just so beautiful.”

Nebbish face palmed.

In no time at all, the starving wolf was wearing the matching nightcap along with those insufferable bunny slippers.  “You look just like a princess.”  Granny gushed.  She wiped the tears from her eyes.  “Now get into bed.”

Nebbish blinked in surprise.  “You said I was wearing your favorite gown.  You wouldn’t want me to wrinkle it.”

Granny raised her eyebrows.  “My favorite gown?  What are you talking about?  Can’t you see you are wearing pajamas?  You must have bad eyesight just like my granddaughter.”  Then she pulled back the sheets.  “Now come on, into bed with you.  You got in your pajamas, now it is time to sleep.”

Nebbish didn’t move, so the old lady shoved him against the pillows.  “Now, I’ll be right back, you just close your eyes and have pleasant dreams.”  She pulled the blankets up to the wolf’s chin and tottered off.

Nebbish waited for a long while, but Granny never returned.  Slowly, he slid down the sheets and was just about to creep away when the front door opened. Startled he jumped back under the covers.  “Granny!”  Called a terribly familiar voice.

Nebbish’s eyes widened.  It was impossible!  There was no way!  Out of all the crazy grandmothers in the woods he had been taken by none other the Red’s grandmother herself!  The formidable woman entered the bedroom and poor Nebbish could feel his paws shaking.  There was no escape!  He thought he was free of the huntress, but no!

After placing her basket and phony brown cloak on the floor by the door, Red turned and blinked at Nebbish.  

Nebbish closed his eyes, preparing for the worst.

“How are you feeling today, Granny?”

Nebbish opened his eyes.  There was no cruelty in her voice.  There was sincere concern.  Nebbish Wolf scanned Red up and down waiting for her to pull up her crossbow and say ‘I’m going to finish you off, you wretched wolf!’ But no.  The girl was looking at him in a sweet, innocent way.  To tell the truth, it made the skin under his fur crawl.

“Uh,” Nebbish began, a little dumbfounded.  “I’m…” He saw her eyes narrow.  He cleared his throat and spoke in the most grandmotherly voice he could muster.  “Quite well, my dear.”

Red didn’t seem to buy it.  She stepped closer to the bed.  “Grandma, you’re nose is huge.  What happened?”

“Um,” Nebbish bit his lip, his mind reeling.  “I-I was stung by a bee and my nose swelled up.”  The scent of the goodies in Red’s basket found their way to Nebbish “swollen” nose and it was almost more than he could stand.  “And it may have increased my sense of smell for your luxurious cooking, my dear.”

Red did not retrieve the basket, as Nebbish had hoped.  Once again the woman stepped closer to him.  “I’ve told you to be careful and not go out on your own.”  Red squinted as she neared the bed.  Nebbish shuffled uncomfortably.  “Your eyes are so wide and round.”

Nebbish nodded.  “I felt I’ve been squinting far too much.”  Nebbish now realized that this supposed magnificent huntress, was not at all as advertized. No way could she see a field mouse from a mile away let alone shoot the fuzz off it.  That was why she lured the wolves so close.  She was nearsighted.  He realized all of this as she drew closer.

Red tilted her head.  “Why are your ears on top of your head?”

Nebbish swallowed.  “The bee really messed up my entire face.”  When Red looked at her skeptically, he added a little weakly.  “It was a big bee.”  Red’s narrowed eyes had initially been of worried curiosity, but now there was a suspicious light about them.

Nebbish scooted away from the girl.

“Tell me, Grandma, did the bee make your teeth sharper too?”  

She knew – the jig was up!

Nebbish shoved himself from the bed and toppled to the floor.  Red leaped over the bed and stamped on poor Nebbish’s tail, causing a yelp to escape his lips.  Red leaned down and whispered in the wolf’s ear. Yanking his tail, she said, “I’m fairly certain my grandma does not have one of these.”  Then he felt the metal of the arrow tip.  

In a panic, Nebbish rolled, forcing Red to fall and drop her weapon.  Nebbish jumped to his feet and saw Red scrambling for her crossbow.  He dashed forward and kicked it out of her reach.  The woman glared up at him.  “You think I can’t take you, now?”  Her eyes flashed.

Nebbish didn’t want a fight.  He tried to speak, but before he could The Red Hood screamed a shrill, glass shattering, shriek. It was like talking to a Banshee. The wolf staggered away from her, clapping his paws over his ears.  He ran for the door.  It was no good reasoning with people.

Just as he was about to escape, the door crashed open and a large muscular man with an ax over his shoulder rushed in.  “What fair maiden has cried, for I shall silence all fears and—”  The woodsman stopped and stared at the sight before him. The wolf in the frilly nightgown and bunny slippers had caught him a bit off guard.

Red rushed out from the bedroom and jabbed a finger at Nebbish.  “Please, sir, kill that beast for it has eaten my grandmother!”

Nebbish whirled on Red, indignantly.  “I most certainly did not eat her.  That crazy woman dressed me like this and wouldn’t let me eat a thing. Come to think of it, eating her would have saved me all this trouble.”

As though someone had spoken her name, Granny walked into the entry with half a biscuit in her hand. Nebbish stared at the woman.  “You were eating!”  He began to shout now.  “How many times did I tell you I was starving?”

Granny dropped the biscuit and stared in horror at Nebbish.  She stretched out a shaking hand and pointed at him.  “A W-W-W-WOLF!”  The old woman whirled and ran from the room, her arms waving above her head.  “HE’S GONNA EAT ME!”

Nebbish stared after her.  “You have got to be kidding me. Talk about your missed opportunities.”  Nebbish was fairly certain that he was going to die.  He ducked as the woodman swung his ax, then managed to awkwardly lunged sideways to avoid an arrow meant to shish kabob his ribs.  

It was now a game: monkey in the middle, with a few modifications, known as: kill the monkey in the middle.  

It went on till the wolf tore the nightgown off himself and threw it over the woodsman along with the cap.  Red took the bait and tackled the woodsman.  “Die wolf!”  

And Nebbish took his opportunity to ditch this nut house.  

He ran until his lungs hurt and his paws throbbed.  He ran till he was about ready to pass out. He might have run until he threw up, but there was nothing there to come out.  When he finally stopped, he found himself at the edge of a field.  Though his body was sore, there was no pain that could compare to that of his empty stomach.  

The bah of a sheep sounded and Nebbish looked up.  This field was filled with the white, fluffy animals.  Nebbish had never been a hunter, but now, he did not care.  He crept forward, drawing closer to the grazing animal.  The hungry wolf licked his lips and prepared to pounce.  Just then a cry echoed out, causing Nebbish to jump.  

A young boy was screaming.  “A wolf!  A wolf is going to eat our sheep!  Please come help!”

Oh no.  Nebbish began to back away.  No more hunters.  

He had no idea how he was to reach safe cover.  The forest was far behind him and he didn’t think he could run another step, but as luck would have it, Nebbish caught sight of a large pile of recently sheered wool coats.  The poor wolf snagged one and draped it over his own fur, hoping to camouflage himself amongst these increasingly mouthwatering looking animals.

In the end however, no angry men came to chase him away or strike him down.  The boy continued to cry for help, but there was only one man who came at all.  His eyes roamed over the field of grazing sheep, they did not even pause when they met the wolf in sheep’s clothing.  He glared at the boy and reprimanded him.  “Stop your lies boy.  How many times do you expect us to fall for that?”  But that was all.

Nebbish shimmied out of his disguise and crept towards his meal once more.  The boy’s cries intensified.  The wolf narrowed his eyes at the boy.  Nebbish was in no mood for courtesy any more. He was hungry and had no more patience for people.  The boy swallowed and ran in the opposite direction abandoning his sheep.

Nebbish smiled.  Finally, after nearly becoming stew, a psycho grandmother, the girl in the red hood, a woodsman with an ax, and the boy who cried wolf, Nebbish ate his fill.

In contentment he sat and picked at his teeth.  Finally full, he mused to himself…you know, pigs aren’t just good at making dinner….hmmm.