Sugar and Spice

by Sarah Mlynowski

  Wow. For someone so thin, she sure is strong. Hulk strong.

  Her grip is so tight I can’t get away.

  “Come, kiddies,” she says, dragging us back through the door. “Let’s go inside.”

  “No!” I say. “Wait! There’s a big misunderstanding!”

  “Yeah!” Jonah cries. “We’re not Hansel and Gretel! We just look like them!”

  “Who?” the witch asks.

  “Hansel and Gretel!” Jonah says. “They’re the ones you were supposed to catch. But they stole our way home!”

  The witch throws both of us on the floor. She uses her foot to slam the door closed. Then she stands on her tiptoes, feels for the bolt, and locks it.

  She’s taller than I realized. That lock is really high up. How are we ever going to get out of here?

  “I don’t know this Hansel and Gretel. But I’m happy to eat any children who wander near my house,” she says. She looks me over. Then she eyes Jonah. “Yes, most definitely a stew,” she says as if thinking out loud. “Or kid casserole of some kind?”

  Kid casserole? Jonah and I look at each other and both scream, “AHHHHHH!”

  Ruff! Grr-ruff! Prince barks furiously at the witch.

  “What is that annoying sound?” Patty asks, peering down. “Is that a cat? Every witch needs a cat.” She peers closer. “Oh, perfect! A cat! Come, darling,” she says to Prince. “I have a tasty bit of spinach for you.”

  Hrmph? asks Prince, tilting his head to the side.

  “Do you eat enough spinach?” she asks. “It’s very healthy. It’s a superfood.”

  She must have really bad eyesight. Prince is all dog.

  “Maybe that’s what I’ll name you,” Patty tells Prince. “Spinach! Or Spinny for short. Hi, Spinny! I love you, Spinny!”

  Jonah and I give each other horrified looks. Spinny is officially the worst name for a dog — or a cat — ever.

  Hmm. Maybe now that she thinks she has a cat, she’ll let us go? Maybe all she really ever wanted was a pet?

  Not that I’d leave Prince behind. No way, no how. I can’t have her making a dog stew.

  “Hmm,” Patty says again. She’s rubbing her chin. “A kid casserole sounds divine. With peas. Do I have any whole wheat noodles? I can’t remember.”

  Please, please, please let her be out of whole wheat noodles. And non–whole wheat noodles.

  She pulls both of us up. She pushes me toward the kitchen and then brings Jonah over to the cage.

  “Let me go!” Jonah says.

  “Why would I do that?” the witch asks.

  “Because I asked nicely?” he tries. He gives her a big smile that normally works on grown-ups.

  “That was asking nicely?” Patty snorts. “I don’t think so. And anyway, I’m not letting you go. I’ve been trying to trap a kid for weeks. Now here you are. It’s my lucky day.”

  “Is eating kids what gives you your magical powers?” Jonah asks.

  “I don’t have magical powers,” she says. “I’m not sure who started that rumor. I think everyone just calls me a witch because of the eating-children thing.”

  “Then why do you have to eat kids?” I ask. “Your house is made of candy! Just eat that.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she asks. “I don’t eat junk food. Do you know how bad that stuff is for you? I can’t have that poison in my system. And anyway, I have horrible eyesight.” She squints at us again. “Eating children is the only way to improve it.”

  “What are you talking about?” I sputter. “Eating children doesn’t improve eyesight!”

  She rolls her eyes. “Of course it does. Everyone knows that.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of carrots?” I cry. “Or glasses? Or contacts?”

  “What about laser eye surgery?” Jonah asks. “I saw an ad for it at a bus stop!”

  “You guys are making those things up,” Patty snorts. “Everyone knows you have to eat children to see better.”

  This is AWFUL. Is she going to try to eat Jonah right away? I take a deep breath. No. That’s not the way the story goes. In the original tale, the witch makes Gretel cook lots and lots of food for Hansel so he gets fattened up. It takes days. So we have time.

  She pinches Jonah’s pinkie finger and smiles.

  “Ow!” he yelps.

  “Great news! You’re not as scrawny as the other kids in Vegetopia,” Patty says. She opens the door to the cage and shoves him inside. “In you go!” She locks it with a big black key that she puts in her dress pocket. “I hope you like it in there. I made the cage myself. The good news is, you won’t have to stay here long. I can cook you tonight!”

  My heart sinks as she smiles at me and adds, “Usually it takes me a week to bulk up my meals, but your brother is just right.”

  Oh, no. Oh, no. This is not good news at all! I thought we’d have a few days! But it’s true that my brother eats more than just bread crumbs! In Smithville, he’d be considered scrawny, but in Vegetopia, he’s downright meaty! Ahhhh!

  “Well, don’t just stand there, girlie,” Patty says to me. “Go turn on the oven.”

  “Wait. Hold up,” I say, thinking fast. “You’re making a huge mistake.” But what kind of mistake? Must. Think. Fast! Oh! “You’re making a … nutritional mistake.”

  She squints. “Excuse me?”

  Yes! I got this. “I get that you’re hungry. But see, my brother is like ninety-nine percent junk food. He devoured the outside of your house. He ate half the roof by himself! And besides that, he’s always stuffing something sugary in his mouth. Cookies. Chocolate. Candy. I bet he has some candy hidden in his pocket right now. Go ahead, check!”

  She turns to my brother. “Show me what’s in your pocket,” she orders.

  Jonah shrugs and pulls out the mangled lollipop. “It’s still good,” he says.

  “It is not,” I say, stifling a laugh. “Prince slobbered all over it. AND it’s from your sock drawer. But that’s not the point, Patty. The point is, you are what you eat, right? And my brother eats a lot of junk food.”

  Patty crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You just don’t want me to cook him.”

  “Of course I don’t want you to cook him. But if you insist on cooking him, you may as well be eating something nutritious. You’re the one who said junk food is poison. I get that you use your candy house to lure kids, but all the junk you get them to eat is not that good for you, now is it?”

  “Hmm. I suppose not,” she says.

  “Exactly. Which means we need to healthen him up. Feed him some vegetables. Pump him with nutrients. Detox him. Then, by the time he’s ready to be eaten, he’ll be super healthy. Which will make you super healthy.”

  She nods slowly. “I like the way you think.”

  “I’m very smart,” I say.

  Jonah snorts.

  I give him a dirty look. Hello! I’m trying to save his life here!

  I turn back to Patty and give her one of my own special-for-grown-ups super-polite smiles. “Why don’t I make him something healthy? Like a kale smoothie?”

  “What’s a smoothie?” Patty asks.

  “Veggies, fruit, ice. They’re very healthy. My mom makes them all the time when she needs a cleanse.”

  “All right,” Patty says. “I have a lot of healthy food. Especially vegetables. See, I own all the vegetable farms in this town. My father used to own them, but after he died, they all became mine.”

  Wait a minute. Vegetopia. KEEP OUT signs. Fences patrolled by an evil bird. Hungry townspeople. The witch must be the farmer! She’s hoarding all the vegetables in Vegetopia for herself!

  “Why don’t you sell the vegetables at the market?” I ask.

  “I sell them to the highest bidder,” Patty says smugly. “Which right now means to the kings and queens in other kingdoms. They pay me in jewels. And I use the jewels to buy whatever I want. Including candy to lure kids.”

  “But what about the people here in Vegetopia?” I ask.

  “What a
bout them?” she snarls. “They’re not my concern. It’s not my problem that they can’t pay my prices.”

  At least that explains why everyone in Vegetopia is so hungry. And it also explains where Patty got all the jewels from.

  “So make yourself at home,” Patty continues. “Well, a home you can’t leave.” She cackles. “Make yourself a kale smoothie, too, will you? And one for me. And for my kitty cat!”

  Ruff! Prince barks. I think he is saying, Please do not make me drink a kale smoothie. It sounds disgusting. Also, I’m NOT a kitty cat!

  He plops down beside the cage, his snout on his front paws. To protect Jonah! Aww.

  “Good kitty!” the witch-who’s-not-really-a-witch says to Prince. “You’re on guard duty. Excellent. Extra spinach for you tonight, my pet.”

  Prince tilts his head and eyes the witch. She leans down and gives him a pat on the head. He gives a low growl and shrinks away.

  I look at Jonah. My heart totally sinks. My brother is trapped in a cage, about a day away from becoming dinner.

  My heart stops. A day away? What time is it now?

  I stare at my watch. It’s 6:59 A.M. in Smithville. Any second now it’s going to be 7:00.

  Any second.

  It’s 7:00.

  My mom and dad are awake. Right now, they are walking into our rooms and finding our beds empty.

  And totally freaking out.

  And where are Hansel and Gretel? Are they stuck in the magic mirror? Is Maryrose yelling at them for stealing our portal?

  What’s it like in the mirror anyway? Does Maryrose live there? Is there a living room? Bedrooms? Does Maryrose have a kitchen in which she makes herself coffee?

  Do fairies drink coffee?

  I blink. Why am I thinking about fairies and kitchens and that horrible Hansel and Gretel when my brother is in a cage! I have to get him out. I have to get us home. Right now.

  I have to focus.

  “I don’t hear the blender!” Patty shouts.

  “Uh, looking for it!” I call back.

  “Top cabinet on the right,” she says.

  Okay, how many times have I watched my mom make Jonah and me smoothies? Strawberry and banana. Almond milk and peanut butter. Berry and orange juice. Countless times. But that doesn’t mean I was paying attention. I have no idea how much to add of each ingredient. Or what to press on the blender. Oh, well. I’ll just throw in some stuff and hope for the best.

  I watch the witch sit down in her rocking chair and take a book from the little table beside it. She holds it so close to her face that her nose is touching the page.

  “So, Patty?” Jonah calls out. “What else do you eat besides vegetables and children? Do you eat chicken?”

  Is Jonah actually having a conversation with the witch? My brother will talk to anyone.

  She makes a face. “I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat animals.”

  “But you eat children?”

  “Children aren’t animals,” she says. “They’re humans.”

  I’m not sure I follow her logic.

  “Plus, you people taste delicious!”

  “Like chicken?” Jonah asks.

  “More like lollipops,” she says. She admires Jonah’s lollipop and then tosses it on the table.

  He makes a hopeful face. “Can I have that back?”

  “No,” she says. “No more junk for you. From now on, you will only eat kale, spinach, and other healthy things. Good thinking, girlie.”

  Girlie? Oh — I guess that’s me.

  “Yeah, thanks, Abby,” Jonah says a little sarcastically. Which is ridiculous.

  “Now stop your babbling,” the witch mutters. “You’re distracting the girlie.”

  Okay, now, how to make a smoothie. I pull open the refrigerator door.

  The entire fridge is full of healthy stuff. There are a ton of vegetables — everything from spinach to red and green peppers to carrots and two big purple eggplants and grapes, oranges, and berries. A bowl beside the fridge has even more healthy stuff. There are dates, raisins, peaches, and bananas.

  “Make sure you add carrots!” the witch says.

  Okay, here we go. I find the kale, and a banana and milk and carrots. Then I open one of the cupboards. There’s oatmeal and other healthy stuff, including a container labeled FLAXSEEDS. Perfect.

  I also see two containers of whole wheat noodles.

  I grab the boxes of noodles and dump them in the garbage. No noodles, no casserole, right?

  “I still don’t hear that blender, slowpoke!” the witch shouts.

  “On it!” I say.

  I reach up and take the blender out from the cabinet. I toss the food inside and throw in some ice. Now what?

  Oh, look. There’s a helpful button on the blender that says BLEND.

  I put the top on the blender and press the button. Whirr! Whirr-whirr!

  “Excellent, girlie!” the witch shouts over the noise.

  “One healthy smoothie, coming right up!”

  I take off the top of the blender. It actually looks pretty. Green and sparkly. I pour three glasses and one little bowl for Prince.

  “Ready!” I say. I hand out the smoothies.

  Jonah takes a sip and makes a gagging face. “Can we add some ketchup to this?”

  “Absolutely not. Ketchup is pure sugar,” Patty says. “I don’t hear you drinking!”

  Maybe Jonah could pretend to drink the smoothie and dump it somewhere? She’s practically blind. But where?

  I look around the cage. There’s a bale of hay in the back. Is that a pail next to it?

  It is!

  I point to the pail and mime a spilling out motion.

  Jonah’s eyes light up. He rushes over and quickly pours the green drink into the pail.

  He comes back over to the bars of the cage. “YUM!” he says. “This is the best smoothie I’ve ever had!”

  “I think he’ll need at least a few days of healthy food before he’s ready to be eaten,” I say. I’ll have to sneak him some food so he doesn’t starve, but I can do that. Hopefully, I’ll figure out how to get us out of here faster than that.

  “A few days?” Patty says. “No way. Let’s speed that up. Let’s give him one smoothie every hour for the next five hours or so. That should do it. Then we’ll cook him.”

  “I don’t think that’s enough time to —” I begin.

  “I think it is,” she snaps.

  Okay, then. I have five hours to figure out how to escape. I gulp.

  Then I take a sip of the kale/carrot smoothie.

  Ketchup wouldn’t be the worst thing.

  The witch’s house is quiet. Jonah is still sitting in the cage, looking grouchy. Prince is still keeping watch outside the rails, his smoothie bowl untouched.

  The witch is sitting in her rocking chair, counting her jewels. Well, squinting at them while counting them.

  I try not to look at my watch, but I can’t help it. It’s almost nine o’clock in the morning back in Smithville. NINE O’CLOCK! What is happening at home? Have my parents called the police? School has started!

  I have to get out of here. But I can’t leave when Jonah is trapped in the cage. Although maybe if I sneak out I can get help?

  I look over at the door — bolted way up high. The witch’s eyesight is so bad that she might not see me tiptoe over and try to unlatch it. Right?

  But I can’t reach the lock. If only I could get to a chair. But the only chair in the room is a rocking chair, which is probably not the sturdiest. Also, it currently has a witch sitting in it.

  Hmm. What about the windows? Yes! The windows!

  I tiptoe over to the closest window and see if I can open it. I do my best to try to lift one, but it doesn’t budge. At all. I try the others. None of them budge. Patty is not messing around. And while the outside is coated in candy, it seems like everything inside is normal house material.

  And she’s not letting anything in or out of this cottage. Even air.

  “Girli
e!” Patty cries. “Isn’t it time for smoothie number two?”

  Crumbs.

  “Uh, yeah,” I say with a sigh. “I’m on it. Maybe I should add some tomatoes and corn to the next smoothie. Did you know those are good for your eyes, too?” We had a whole nutrition unit in school last month.

  “The only thing good for your eyes is children,” Patty says flatly.

  “That is so not true!” I say.

  Many smoothies later, I’m cleaning out the blender when I hear Patty ask me, “Now how can I tell if the toxins are all out of his system?”

  “I have to pee in a cup when I go to the doctor,” Jonah says. “I can try that.”

  “That’s disgusting,” the witch says. “Give me your finger.”

  “Huh?” Jonah asks. “You’re going to eat my finger?”

  “No, I’m going to pinch it. To see if the toxins are out. Maybe it will be less puffy.”

  Oh, no. I look over at my brother. In the original story, the witch makes Hansel stick out his finger to see if he’s fattening up. Gretel gives him a chicken bone to trick her, so it seems like he hasn’t gained any weight and therefore isn’t ready to be eaten.

  But what’s going to happen now? The witch is trying to make Jonah leaner! Which means I have to do the opposite.

  Jonah looks exactly the same as he did when we got here. I’m not sure how three smoothies will make someone’s fingers less meaty, but it was my idea so I don’t point out the problem.

  “Stick your finger through the bars,” the witch orders Jonah.

  Oh, no.

  I need something that feels like a plump finger!

  What do I have? Kale? Clearly no. A carrot? No. Too hard.

  A fig?

  Yes! A fig! I grab a fig from the fridge and run it over to my brother. I slip it between the bars and he sticks it back toward the witch.

  “Here’s my finger,” he says.

  She squeezes it. “How is that possible? Your finger is even juicier than it was before!”

  Yes! It worked!

  “I know what the problem is,” I say.

  “What?” Patty asks.

  “He needs to move.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s been locked in a cage for two hours. Healthy people move. They run. They climb. I think you should let him out and let him climb some trees. That will make him healthier for sure. It will clean out all the toxins.”