Jonah gives me a thumbs-up. “I’m a very good tree climber. Even a house climber. That’s how I got up on your roof!”
“I’m not letting him outside,” Patty cries. “Are you crazy? But exercise is not a bad idea.”
“It’s not?” I ask.
She nods. “Do you know how to do a jumping jack?” she asks him.
“Of course I do,” he says.
“Then do those.”
“Right here? In the cage?”
“Yes! Go.”
“O-kay.” He starts jumping. “One. Two. Three.”
At least we bought some more time.
After ten, he’s just counting and not moving. Which should be fine considering the witch can barely see.
“I can’t hear you jumping!” she yells.
Guess not.
“I want to feel the floor shake,” she calls out. “Do it with feeling!”
He scowls. “Twelve.” He jumps. “Thirteen. Fourteen —”
Poor Jonah.
* * *
A billion jumping jacks later, it’s time for kale smoothie number four.
I sneak Jonah a banana, and he dumps his smoothie in the pail. He licks his lips as noisily as possible.
The witch reaches over to pinch his finger again. Luckily, Jonah sticks his finger inside the fig again just in time.
“You’re not ready to eat yet,” the witch groans.
Then she turns to a floor lamp and starts talking to it. “Go into the cupboard under the sink and grab me the huge piece of licorice. Maybe that will help.”
Huh? Oh, she thinks the lamp is me!
“Feeding him licorice is going to help?” I ask.
“He’s not going to eat it. He’s going to skip rope with it!”
I find the secret junk cupboard and unfurl the longest piece of black licorice I’ve ever seen. It could probably be in The Guinness Book of World Records.
Too bad black licorice is disgusting, or I would take a bite. I hand the licorice rope to Jonah.
“Now jump!” Patty yells at him.
Inside the cage, Jonah jumps.
The witch turns back to the lamp. “Now get back in that kitchen and make me another smoothie, too! Something to tide me over! And I want him healthy in the next hour. Or I’m eating him anyway! Junky or not junky — I don’t care! I’m tired and hungry, and your smoothies just aren’t cutting it! They’re an appetizer, but they are not a meal! Do you hear me? They are not a meal!”
“Okay,” I say.
We have got to get out of here RIGHT NOW.
I go back to the kitchen.
I know now that there’s no way I can leave Jonah here while I try to get help. There’s no time, and there’s no telling what the witch will do while I’m gone. No. The first thing I need to do is rescue Jonah from the cage. I need to get my hands on the key. But the key is in the witch’s pocket.
I wonder if I can grab the key if she’s distracted.
Or asleep. Yeah! It’s bedtime. The sky outside is dark. It must be late.
Maybe I can help her fall asleep?
I’ve tried this before in another fairy tale. Where was I? What did I do? Which fairy tale involves sleep?
Oh! I remember. It was Sleeping Beauty. Sleeping Beauty’s curse got messed up and I had to find another way to put her to sleep. I had tried singing lullabies, and then counting turtles (don’t ask). The turtles worked, but how am I supposed to convince Patty to count turtles? Seems unlikely. Maybe she’ll count pieces of celery. Or smoothies.
Oh! I know! I can make her fall asleep with the smoothie!
When we learned about which vegetables were good for the eyes, we also learned about foods that made you sleepy. But what were they? Warm milk, of course. But there was other stuff, too. Hmm. Some sort of nut. Oh! Almonds! And cherries! And bananas! And oatmeal! All things the witch has in the cottage.
I pour the milk in a mug and heat it up. Then, when it’s warm, I blend it together with everything else, and I hand the witch the mug.
“You seem a little upset,” I tell her. “This should calm you down. It’s very healthy, too.”
“Thank you,” she says. “That’s thoughtful of you. Keep jumping, boy!”
Jonah keeps jumping.
Patty sips her drink. And then she gulps it down. “This is very good,” she says. “Maybe I shouldn’t cook you.”
“No?”
“No. I’ll just eat your brother and keep you around as my personal chef.”
Terrific. Who needs to be a judge? I’ll just be a witch’s cook.
Patty puts the cup on the table and starts rocking back and forth in the chair.
I wait. How can I hurry this along?
Maybe I should hum.
Yes. That always helps.
“Hmm,” I hum softly. “Hmmmm hmmmm hmmm …”
Patty settles back in her chair and closes her eyes. It’s working! It’s working!
She sighs happily.
“Hmm, hmm, hmmm …” I hum. As soon as she falls asleep, I’ll get the key and free Jonah from the cage, and then maybe Jonah can give me a boost up to unlock the door. It’ll work. It has to.
“Why are you singing?” the witch asks.
“Um … ’cause I like to sing?”
“Wait a second,” she says, sitting up straight. “You’re singing me a lullaby! And you warmed up my milk! You’re trying to get me to fall asleep, aren’t you? Then you’re going to try to steal the key to escape!”
“No,” I say very unconvincingly.
She jumps out of the chair, and her giant bony hand grips my wrist.
“Into the cage with you!” she shouts, dragging me over. She feels around in front of her, unlocks the cage, opens the door, and throws me in, then locks it.
“But, but, but … who will make your smoothies?” I cry.
“Forget the smoothies,” she says. “You’re both going in the casserole tomorrow!”
“You can’t make a casserole!” I snap. “I threw out your noodles!”
“Stew, then,” she says with an evil smile.
Humph.
The witch sits down in her rocking chair. “Spinny?” she calls, looking around the room. “Where is my cat? Here, Spinny-Spinny.”
Prince hurries over and curls up on the witch’s lap.
I’m shocked.
Traitor!
“Good kitty,” she says, her eyes closing.
I look at my watch. It’s now after 1:30 P.M. back home. Are my parents in a total panic? They must be!
Is there a chance Hansel and Gretel are in our house? Maybe Maryrose let them through. Maybe she explained everything to them about how the mirror works. So then maybe they can get help! Maybe Maryrose explained everything to Hansel and Gretel and then Hansel and Gretel told our parents the whole story, and now Mom and Dad are trying to figure out how to make the mirror work so they can come rescue us.
That would mean my parents would now know the truth about the magic mirror, but given the circumstances, I am not going to worry about that.
Any minute now, my parents will probably come bursting through the witch’s door to save us.
Any.
Minute.
Now.
Okay, now.
The door doesn’t open.
WAIT.
I look over at the witch.
Her eyes are closed. She’s asleep. With the key in her pocket.
The witch’s snores fill the cottage.
“Jonah, she’s sleeping!” I whisper.
“Finally,” he says. “We need to get out of here.”
“Why is Prince still sitting on her lap?” I ask, frowning.
“You mean Spinny.” Jonah scrunches up his face. “Barf. Is that not the worst name you’ve ever heard?”
“Better than Spinach,” I say. “Although, if he keeps sitting there, we’ll have to change his name to Traitor.”
“No! He’s no traitor,” Jonah tells me, nudging my arm. “Look!”
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Prince is nosing around the witch’s lap. I watch him ease his snout into the pocket of the witch’s apron. Look what he’s doing! He slowly pulls out the black key with his teeth.
Best dog ever! Go, Spinny!
“Come here, Prince!” I whisper. “Good boy! Who’s the best dog? You are!” He really is good with keys.
Prince very gently jumps down and rushes over. He tries to stick his mouth between the bars, and I reach for the key. Oops. My hand collides with his nose, and the key flies out of my hands and lands on Patty’s toe.
She opens her eyes and feels her front pocket.
“Are you kidding me?” Patty yells, jumping up again. “You must be kidding me.”
She sniffs the air, scoops up Prince and the key, opens the cage, and throws him inside.
“Maybe Spinny will add some flavor to the stew,” she snaps.
“I thought you didn’t eat animals,” Jonah says.
She purses her lips. “I’ll make an exception.”
Prince howls.
The witch sits back in the chair and stuffs the key in her pocket. “Now, can I finally get some sleep?”
We’re doomed.
Abby?” Jonah asks. “How exactly are we getting out of here?”
I plop down next to Jonah on the bale of hay on the far side of the cage.
“I don’t know,” I moan.
I wish I were home. I can’t believe that just a few hours ago I wanted to get out of there. Now I just want to get back. I look at my watch. It’s 1:45 P.M. back home. It’s after lunch!
“Jonah?” I say, staring at his waist. “What are you wearing?”
“Oh,” he says, looking down. “I turned the licorice into a belt. My jeans were slipping down. Mom is not going to be happy. I think I really am losing weight in here!” The licorice has been wrapped about twenty-five times around his waist.
“No way,” I say.
“Way!” he says. Then he yawns.
He puts his head down and closes his eyes.
My eyes feel heavy, too. We’ve been up for hours. I guess I could close them for a few minutes? It’s pitch-black outside and pretty dark in here. It can’t hurt to rest for just a few minutes can it … ?
* * *
I fell asleep! I jolt up with a start. It’s still dark outside. But how long was I out for?
I glance at my watch. It’s now 3:00 P.M. back home. School is done! What is happening in Smithville? Why has no one come to save us? Haven’t Hansel and Gretel told my parents how they got there? Won’t my parents try to find us?
Or what if Hansel and Gretel got out from someone else’s mirror? What if my parents have no idea where we are? What if we’re stuck here forever?
“Jonah!” I whisper-yell, shaking him awake.
“Abby?” Jonah asks.
“We fell asleep. We have to get out of here.” I glance at the witch, who’s thankfully still snoozing.
He nods and sits up, planting his feet on the floor. “I’m hungry. Can I eat the licorice?”
“I guess,” I say. “There’s also a pail of smoothie right behind you.”
He makes a face. “I think I’d rather eat my belt.”
“It’s black licorice. Black licorice is disgusting.”
“I kind of like it,” he says. “I’ve already eaten a foot of it. But I wish I could go back outside and have more of the roof.”
A lightbulb goes off in my head. “Wait a second.” I turn away from Jonah and stare at the wall.
“Jonah, the wall!”
“I see it. I’ve been sitting next to it for hours.”
“Smell it!”
He leans in closer and gives it a sniff. “It smells … sugary?”
“Yes! Exactly! Sugary sweet! It’s a candy wall!”
“It is?”
I nod. I think it is. At least, I think I’ll have to taste it to be sure. Or at least lick it. I stick out my tongue. Please let it be candy, please let it be candy …
I lick. “It tastes like candy cane,” I say. “Paint doesn’t taste like candy cane, does it?”
“I don’t know,” Jonah says. “I’ve never eaten paint!”
“I bet you would if it were covered in ketchup.”
“Probably,” he agrees.
I scrape a bit off with my fingernail and taste some more. “Do not try this at home, Jonah! Got it? But I’m like ninety-nine percent sure this is candy,” I say.
“Does that mean what I think it means?” Jonah asks.
“If you’re thinking that we’re going to eat our way out of the cottage, then yes.”
He licks his lips. “Let’s do it.”
* * *
We lick and bite and chew. And lick and bite and chew some more.
We each tackle a different section. I’m on one end, Jonah’s on the other, and Prince is in the middle. At least he’s supposed to be.
“Stay on your side,” I order Prince when he accidentally slobbers all over my nose.
“I’m getting full,” Jonah says. “I have to loosen my licorice belt.”
The candy walls are like a foot thick. And hard. We keep at it for over an hour until our tongues are numb and Jonah looks a little green.
“I think I might barf,” he says. “For real this time.”
“The bucket is right behind you,” I say. “The barf will blend right in. Do it quickly because I think we’re almost through.”
He takes a deep breath. “I think I can hold it in.”
I scrape one more piece out, and I feel it. Fresh air! I look outside and see the night sky. We did it! We ate our way out of the cage! I take out another chunk and chew fast. The hole is almost big enough. So close! I can see the tree. Our portal home. It’s right in front of us!
“Come on, guys. We’re almost there!” I whisper. “Eat! Eat! Eat!”
We eat and eat until the hole is big enough. I lift Prince out, help Jonah through, and then shimmy through myself.
We did it! We escaped! We’re free!
Run for the portal!” I yell. “Run!”
Even though it’s pitch-black outside, the full moon and stars are bright, so we can see where we’re going.
I reach the portal first and smash my fist against it hard. Ouch. I think that was a little too hard.
I wait for the swirl. Or the hiss. Or some purple sparks. Even a vibration. The portals home don’t always follow the same order as the mirror in our basement. C’mon swirl, c’mon!
Nothing happens. No swirl. No hiss. No purple. No vibrations. Nothing un-treelike at all.
Ahh! I hit it again, even harder.
Still nothing.
“Abby? Why isn’t it working?” Jonah asks.
I stare at the tree. This is definitely the one that swirled before. So why isn’t it working now?
Oh no oh no oh no.
I have a really, really, really terrible thought.
Did Maryrose think Hansel and Gretel were us and close the portal forever?
No. Yes. Maybe.
Ahhhhh!
How are we supposed to get home?
“This is a huge problem!” I cry. I kick the tree with the toe of my shoe. Ow.
“Let me try,” Jonah says, and knocks on the tree. Once. Twice. Three times.
No go.
“Spinny!” we hear from inside the cottage. “I’m sorry I got mad at you. I miss you. Let’s make up. Let me give you something yummy to eat. Do you want some kale? Where are you? I can’t smell you.”
Oh, terrific. Now the witch is awake. The portal isn’t working, and she’s awake.
“Run, guys, run!” I yell. “We have to get away!”
We bolt from the cake house into the forest, pushing branches out of our way as we go.
We hear her front door open. “Cauliflower!” the witch screeches. “Stop those kids!”
Cauliflower? I spot a beautiful snow-white bird soar through the sky. That’s Cauliflower? Is that the bird we saw protecting the fields? I think it is! Oh! I
t’s probably also the bird from the original story! The one who was supposed to bring Hansel and Gretel to the house in the first place! He — or she — must be working for the witch!
Patty is really bad at naming animals.
Suddenly, Cauliflower dives down toward Jonah.
Ah! No!!!!!
The bird grips the back of his hoodie in its beak.
“Let go!” I scream, running toward my brother. “Let go right now!”
Cauliflower flaps its wings and carries a squirming Jonah right over the trees and back toward the cake house.
“Stop!” I scream, even louder than before. Panting, I arrive right back at the house in time to see Cauliflower drop Jonah with a thud on the ground in front of Patty before flying off into the distance.
Shakily, Jonah stands up. He clutches his stomach … and throws up on the witch’s bare feet.
I feel bad for Jonah, but I have to say, the witch kind of deserved that.
“Gross,” Patty snaps.
“Sorry,” Jonah says sheepishly. “Too much candy.”
“Candy?” Patty says, grabbing him by the shoulders. “You were supposed to be drinking SMOOTHIES. Coming, girlie?” she adds, narrowing her ice-blue eyes at me. She tightens her grip on Jonah. “You won’t leave your brother all alone, will you?”
“No,” I admit.
“It’s time for breakfast. Forget kid casserole. I’m making a kid omelet!”
“That’s the most disgusting one yet,” Jonah says. “Do you at least use ketchup with that? Omelets should always be served with ketchup.”
“Are you really talking about ketchup at a time like this?” I ask. “Can we focus on the current problem? The problem being that Patty is about to cook us with a side of bacon?”
“I don’t eat bacon,” Patty reminds us. “I’m a vegetarian.”
I snort. “Right. Sorry. No pigs. Just humans.”
I take a step closer to the house, trying to think of how to get out of this.
How did Gretel get the witch in the original story?
Oh. I remember. She tricked the witch! She told her she needed help with the oven and then pushed her in.
Can I trick the witch, too? Without pushing her into an oven though, because that sounds super creepy.
I turn back toward the tree we just knocked on. It may not be a portal, but maybe it’s good for something?
Sugar and Spice Page 6
