Little Red and the Wolf

the last three. Granny’s suite.

The light from Granny’s room cast a wash of light into the forest, illuminating a matching rectangle of foliage. Maizie circled out to the edge of the light, careful not to be seen.

Granny’s lace curtains were drawn, but the heavy toile drapes were pulled back to the sides, exposing the room to anyone who cared to see.

Granny. Maizie knew her instantly. The old woman sat in her hospital-style bed, the top section angled up so she could watch TV. A remote control in one hand, she held a fork in the other, poised over a cranberry apple walnut tart waiting on a rolling tray table over the bed. Her feet wiggled a happy rhythm under the blanket, her mouth curled in a half smile, still working on her last bite.

She was happy and Maizie’s muscles relaxed, releasing a tension she hadn’t noticed before. Granny was safe and cared for in case this transformation didn’t reverse itself. Maizie shuddered at the thought.

She wasn’t stuck like this, was she? The old stories always had some poor hapless sap who’d gotten himself bitten returning to his human form. Reclaiming his life was a struggle, but he always tried, always wallowed in denial.

Of course most often he didn’t succeed and wound up transforming at the worst possible moment. The villagers would storm and the hapless sap would mindlessly attack some innocent child, giving good reason for his brutal death.

Maizie shuddered again and made a mental note to stop watching so many horror flicks. She’d be fine. This couldn’t possibly be a permanent state and villagers hardly ever stormed these days.

Granny took another dainty bite of tart, her smile broadening as the pastry passed her lips. She leaned her head back, dancing her fork in the air like a conductor. Maizie never realized how long and lovely Granny’s hair was. Like a blanket of fine white snow, it lay in a shimmering sheet down her back to her bum. White curls pooled around her hips, tiny wisps tickling her cheeks.

Gawd, she meant the world to Maizie. Why hadn’t she got one last hug, one last feathery kiss? She wanted to hear Granny’s voice, to feel her soft hand smoothing over her cheek, telling her life was more than loss and heartache. She wanted to go to her now.

Maizie took a step, her front paws and head bathed in the light from Granny’s room. She stopped, instinct warring with human want. She couldn’t. The fear was too great. Her wolf-half wasn’t ready to trust humans, even the ones she loved.

She backed up, stealing into the shadows again. Another time. If she stayed this way, Maizie would keep trying to overcome the scream of her wolf instincts. But for now, even if the worst happened-furry wolf parts forever, rampaging villagers, whatever-Maizie knew Granny was safe.

A knock sounded at Granny’s door and riveted Maizie’s attention.

“Come in,” Granny said, the words more sung than stated.

The door opened and a dark-haired man poked his head through the crack. “Hey, Mom. Were mwap sleeping?”

“Riddly?” Granny’s hand dropped to the bed, fork, remote and MTV forgotten. “No…no. I’m mwap. Is that mwap, Riddly?”

Maizie’s wolf brain struggled with the words. Daddy? Maizie edged forward, light touching her toes and muzzle. The man smiled, stepped in and closed the door behind him.

“How’s my mwap girl?” Handsome, sophisticated in his tailored business suit, the man was familiar, but Maizie wasn’t sure why. He was thickly built, like a tall wrestler, with broad shoulders, a squared jaw and a prominent Romanic nose. He was graying at the temples, the dull color all the more noticeable against the sheer blackness of his neatly trimmed hair.

He kept his right hand hidden behind him as he came across the room to Granny. When he reached her bedside, he leaned in and kissed her forehead then offered the bouquet of white roses he was hiding.

Maizie snorted. They were beautiful, but they weren’t Granny’s favorite. Violets. Granny would do anything for a handful of violets. Maizie’s thoughts were proven by Granny’s placating expression.

“Oh, mwap mwap, dear. They’re mwap. Could you mwap them in mwap mwap me? There’s a mwap in the mwap mwap.” Granny shook her fork toward the bathroom door.

“Sure, Mom.”

That man was not Riddly Hood. Maizie’s father never would’ve brought his mother the wrong flowers. A strange vibration hummed in her chest, a low growl filled her ears. It took a second to realize the growl was coming from inside her, anger manifesting in her new wolf form. She liked it.

The moment the strange imposter left the room, Granny fumbled at her chest. She found her locket and worked hard to open it. A wide sentimental grin filled her face, a sadness pinching the corner of her eyes as she gazed at the pictures inside.

“I, ah, brought mwap papers we mwap about,” the man said from the bathroom.

Granny hurried to close the locket, fisting it in her hand before he strolled back into the room, vase overflowing with roses. He paused for a moment, his gaze studying her face then dropping to her hands at her chest. His expression darkened, his smile suddenly more stiff, forced.

“What’ya mwap there, Mom?”

“Mwap nothing, mwap.” But the phony Riddly’s attention was riveted. He set the vase on Granny’s nightstand and reached for her hands.

The growl vibrating through Maizie grew louder. She took another bold step into the light.

Granny giggled. Let him open her hands. “Just mwap mwap locket. The picture’s so old. You hardly look like yourself. And look at little Maizie. Barely five years old.”

The man studied the pictures, his thick black brows wrinkled tight over his dark eyes. But then he smiled, closed the locket and placed it gently on her chest. “That picture mwap mwap ages ago. I looked mwap a different person mwap then.”

Granny nodded, her smile bright. “Still handsome mwap mwap, though.”

“Thanks, Mom.” The man slipped a hand into the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out a thin stack of papers folded long-ways. He set them on the tray next to Granny’s tart then placed a thick fancy pen beside them.

“Mwap I miss mwap top twenty mwap?” He nodded toward the TV.

“Mwap on sixteen. Sit, sit, mwap a little mwap mwap with mwap old mwap,” Granny said.

“Old.” He scoffed. “You’ll mwap mwap us all.” He pulled the storage bench from around the end of her bed then dragged one of the high-backed chairs closer. He dropped into it with a casualness that belied his sophisticated attire and propped his expensive leather-shoed feet on the bench.

What were the papers he talked about, the ones sitting conspicuously on Granny’s tray? And who the hell was he anyway? There was something familiar about him, but her wolf brain wouldn’t make the connection. It didn’t matter. Everything inside Maizie told her she needed to get him away from Granny. Even her wolf-half agreed.

She backed into the shadows again, jogging toward the end of the building. Maybe she could find a door propped open or slip in behind someone else. She had to get to Granny, protect her, despite her instinctive fear of humans.

She edged along the building, skirting the pockets of light as best she could. She turned a final corner where the forest and grass ended. Her toes edged against the wide expanse of blacktop. Before her, the parking lot of Green Acres Nursing Home stretched between her and the front door.

The forest encircled Green Acres on three sides, leaving the front facade and the parking lot exposed. The lot was lit like daylight by three enormous lights placed just right to keep shadows at bay. Beyond the parking lot, directly across from the nursing home, cars whizzed by on a busy two-lane road, and on the other side of that, the night evaporated in the glow of human encroachment. A restaurant, a grocery store, a gas station and more-the edge of civilization on one side, acres and acres of forest behind her. Maizie wanted to turn back so badly her muscles ached from the restraint.

Granny. She needed her and Maizie took a tentative step. The black ground was warm on her pads, still holding the heat from a sunny day. She moved farther, her gaze fixed on the glass entrance. Inside she could see the front desk and a familiar face seated behind it. What was her name?

It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t recognize Maizie like this anyway. Maizie kept moving slow and steady. She