The Story of Persephone

Just a few seeds never hurt anyone. Right?

Salutations, reader. This week, I thought we'd look at a myth we probably all know. The Story of Persephone is the ancient Greeks' way of explaining the seasons. If you want to brush up on the myth, click on the link. If not, continue reading and analyze it with me.

There's one thing I want to point out before we get too far into this. Zeus was Persephone's father. So, when Hades was asking Zeus' permission to marry Persephone, he was abiding by the rules at the time. (We don't need to dwell too much on how all of the gods were related.) What both Zeus and Hades failed to do was talk to Demeter, Persephone's mom. This was probably another cultural norm, but since Zeus didn't spend any time with his daughter (to be fair, he had far, far too many kids to spend time with all of them), that meant that neither Persephone nor Demeter knew about this betrothal. Does that mean it still happened? Either way, when Hades came to claim his bride, he was technically allowed to do so. But only technically. I'm not sure why he thought he could kidnap Persephone and Demeter would just let her go. Or why he thought being so secretive was a good idea in the first place.

Moving on. Demeter, overcome with grief, refused to do her godly duties and make things grow. Apparently, her neglect even made the rivers shrivel up. I understand that she was deeply upset about her daughter being kidnapped. That makes perfect sense. What worries me is that Demeter was willing to kill lots of people because she was upset by causing this famine. I don't really see her as this caring, nurturing god anymore. At least, not to humans. At the same time, she didn't have any other ways to show how upset she was. Simply telling Zeus that it wasn't okay to barter off her daughter to someone else didn't seem to do anything. He had no problem agreeing to the match and leaving Demeter (and Persephone) out of the loop. Demeter was stuck in a tricky position. She chose her daughter over the humans of the earth, but I'm not sure I can blame her for that.

We see that either Persephone got Stockholm syndrome, or Hades was actually a pretty great guy and she fell in love with him. However, this story explicitly tells us that Persephone was tricked into eating the pomegranate seeds. She didn't think it would matter and, of course, Hades wasn't going to tell her otherwise. Hades was trying to leverage the gods' rules to keep his wife in the underworld with him. However, he didn't count on being up against Demeter. He should have known how stubborn and forceful she was, since she's his sister. Sorry, I wasn't going to dwell on how they're all related. Anyway, I think it's a good thing they had quick-witted Hermes there to negotiate the deal, or Persephone could have ended up split in half. Demeter, never one to take back her claims, decided that when Persephone was in the underworld, she wouldn't let anything grow, and we know this time as autumn and winter. ...which leads me to my next question: is the Southern Hemisphere just opposite of what Demeter does, or is Persephone the goddess of autumn instead of spring in the Southern Hemisphere?

The moral of this story is: if you want to marry someone, talk it out with both of their parents. And that person. Alternatively, if you're going to kidnap someone and have them fall in love with you, be extra tricky so they don't get stolen back. Poor Persephone is basically a piece of treasure and not a god in this story.

Did you like that analysis? Have another point I missed? Would you like me to talk about a different story? Comment below!

Cindy-Ella

Hello again. Last week, I analyzed Cinderella. This week, I'm writing a modern version of the fairy tale.

Not every girl loses her shoe to gain a prince.

Ella hated working mornings at Royal Latte. The tips were better in the morning, but she was always tired when she came in and the customers were usually grumpy before they got their coffee. Or lattes. Or special creations that you had better get right. This morning, she had barely made it through the barrage and now she was cleaning up the little things that got out of order during the rush while Kristen, her coworker, took orders from the last few people.

"Rough night?" Kristen asked her when the last commuter had left with his coffee.

"How did you know?" Ella asked.

"Wrong apron," Kristen said, nodding at Ella.

Ella looked down and sighed. Her name tag proudly read, "Cindy". It wasn't the first time Ella had grabbed the wrong apron and it probably wouldn't be the last. "I was up too late," Ella said.

"Hanging out with the boy?" Kristen asked.

Ella pursed her lips and began to wash the blender.

"Is he done with school yet?" Kristen continued. "Or is he still in college?"

"We broke up, okay?" Ella asked.

"Oh," Kristen replied. "I'm sorry."

Ella sighed and set the blender down to dry. "He was an asshole anyway. I'm probably better off."

"So, how's your art going?" Kristen asked, rapidly changing the subject.

Ella smiled. "Really well. I've got a few pieces going up at a gallery this weekend, actually."

"Your first big break!" Kristen cheered. "When and where? I need to be there."

Ella laughed a little. "It's at the Vernon Gallery this Friday. The show opens at 7."

Kristen pulled out her phone and put that in her calendar. "I'll be there, but I'll be late."

Just then, the door opened and a man walked in holding a few brightly colored papers. He looked more tired than Ella. "Good morning, ladies," he said.

"Good morning," Ella replied professionally.

"Is there a community bulletin board here?"

"Of course." Ella pointed it out.

"Thanks," he said, shuffling over.

"So, the Vernon gallery?" Kristen asked. "That's downtown, right?"

"Sure is," the man replied. "You both should come by this Friday. My band is playing."

"Oh?" Kristen asked, looking quickly at Ella.

"Yeah," he replied. "My band is called Charming. We're a Prince tribute band. I'm the singer."

"I knew there was going to be music there, but I didn't know it would be Prince," Ella replied. "That's cool."

"You know about it already?" the man asked.

"She's one of the featured artists," Kristen bragged.

"Really?" The man looked at her apron. "Then I'll keep an eye out for you, Cindy." He waved and left the shop.

"Why didn't you correct him?" Kristen asked Ella.

Ella shrugged. "He was already leaving and what does it matter? I probably won't even see him at the gallery. He'll be busy singing and I'll be busy schmoozing and telling people what my art means."

"What does it mean?" Kristen asked.

"Well, a lot of the paintings were about Jack and me so... Prince is the perfect music to go with it."

Kristen laughed. "Now I have to see this stuff! Oh, but are you okay to talk about it?"

Ella shrugged sadly. "I guess I'll have to be by Friday."

"Just don't drink too much," Kristen advised.

Ella laughed. "I'll try not to. So, what have you been up to?"

Kristen shrugged. "Pondering existence and why I'm working as a barista with a bachelor's degree."

"Aren't we all?" Ella replied. "Of course, since you're working on your master's full time, it's not like you could have a standard office job."

"I'm slowly killing myself instead," Kirsten replied nonchalantly.

Ella was about to ask her something else when another customer came in with an order for what must have been her whole office and the two baristas were kept busy for awhile.

-

Ella tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. It wasn't obvious that the subject of the paintings was anyone in particular, let alone her and Jack, but they were definitely intimate. She knew people would ask her who the guy was. She really didn't want to have to tell them that they'd broken up. Ella glanced over at the band setting up and saw the singer was looking at her. He smiled and waved. She smiled back and gave him a little wave as well. He started to walk over, but the guitarist grabbed his arm and pulled him back. They started their mic checks. From where Ella was standing, they were definitely loud enough.

The gallery owner bustled over to Ella and smiled. "All ready?" he asked.

"Sure," Ella said. She was about to ask if there were things she was supposed to say to the crowd, but the man replied, "Great!" and bustled away to the next artist.

It wasn't long after that when the doors opened and people started coming in. "We are Charming, a Prince tribute band," the singer announced. "1, 2, 3, 4." The band started playing Raspberry Beret.

"That'll set the tone for the evening," Ella thought wryly. Still, they were good and it was nice to have something to listen to when people were talking to other artists. Soon enough, though, those people moved on to her and Ella introduced herself as the artist of her pieces. She was surprised that she got more questions about her technique than the subjects of the paintings, but maybe she shouldn't have been. It was fairly abstract, after all.

Kristen and her boyfriend, Hank, came by close to the end of the show and it was nice to talk to people she knew for a bit, even if Kristen did make her blush with her comments about the paintings. "Ella, I never knew you were like that," Kristen said of one painting in particular.

Blushing furiously, Ella replied, "It's just a painting, Kristen. It's not me."

"I know. I'm just teasing," Kristen replied with a smile.

Ella shook her head and looked across the crowd, gauging the size. She had to work the morning shift again tomorrow and she couldn't stay up too late so she was hoping people would wander out soon. As she looked across the crowd, she saw Jack. Ella felt her stomach fall to the floor and she took a step backwards.

"Are you okay?" Kristen asked. When Ella didn't respond, she followed her gaze. "Oh shit," Kristen said. "Ella."

Ella slowly looked away from Jack and toward Kristen.

"Do you want me to get rid of him?" Kristen asked.

"I'm not sure you can," Ella replied.

"Oh please. I'm the charm and he's the muscle," Kristen said, jerking her thumb at her boyfriend.

"Sure," Hank replied.

"No," Ella said. "I need to face him eventually."

"But now?" Kristen asked.

Ella took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Then there was no more time to talk because Jack was there.

"Hey," Jack said. "You look great."

"Thanks," Ella said flatly. She waited.

"Is that us?" Jack asked, looking at the paintings.

"No," Ella replied.

"It kind of looks like us," Jack said, looking at them again. "I mean, it's hard to tell what it is, but I think that's us."

"She said it wasn't," Kristen stepped in.

"And who are you?" Jack asked.

"Her friend," Kristen replied. "How about you tell her what you came to tell her, and then leave?"

"No need to get so aggressive," Jack said. "Ella knows I still love her, right Ella?"

Ella's lips were compressed into a line. She shook her head.

"Oh, come on, baby. I came here to take you back."

"No," Ella replied.

"No?" Jack asked. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"No," Ella said, looking at him for the first time. "I don't want to be with you any more. I'm done. If that's all you came to say, please leave."

Jack looked at her, then Kristen, and then Hank who was looming off to the side. "Fine," Jack said. "Geeze." Then he walked away.

"The gallery will be closing in five minutes," the owner said from the microphone. "But first, let's give all of our artists a hand, huh? Including Charming! What a great band!"

The audience clapped and cheered.

"Do you want to go?" Kristen asked Ella.

Ella shook her head. Then she looked up and blinked rapidly a few times. "No," she said, in a voice that was almost normal. "No, I need to stay until everyone else leaves." She looked at Kristen. "I'll be fine."

Kristen looked at her for a moment. "I can stay," Kristen offered.

Ella shook her head. "It's fine. I'll see you at work."

"Okay," Kristen said. "You call me if you need anything."

Ella smiled. "All right. Good night, Kristen."

"Good night," Kristen replied. She hugged Ella. Then she and Hank walked away.

After the gallery closed, the owner came bustling over to all of the artists to tell them what a smashing success this was. "Same time next week?" he asked Ella.

"What?" Ella asked.

"You've got more paintings, right?"

"These were the best ones," Ella said.

The owner waved away her objections. "If you want to add to them, I'll be willing to look at more of your work. If not, we'll just show these again. They were turning people away at the door. Do you want to do this again next week?"

"Yes," Ella said, realizing what was happening. "Yes, that's great."

"Excellent," the owner replied, beaming. "Yes, I think we'll keep the band, too. Perfect for this sort of art." He bustled away before Ella could say anything else. Still, with everything that happened that night, she drove home smiling.

-

The following Tuesday morning, Kirsten and Ella were working the morning shift at Royal Latte. Ella had taken a drunk phone call from Jack that past Saturday night and she was telling Kristen about it.

"He said he wanted you back?" Kristen asked.

Ella nodded. "He was sobbing. I know he was drunk, but it was hard not to believe him."

"You know he's a snake."

"That's the worst part. I do know, but we spent two and a half years together. Why did it take me so long to figure that out?"

"And you want to justify that time by making him seem like a better person," Kristen replied.

Ella sighed. "A little."

"It's okay to be wrong about people," Kristen told her. Just then, the door opened.

"Hey, I didn't get a chance to say it on Friday, but you've got some real talent." It was the lead singer from Charming. He smiled and looked at Ella's apron. "Ella?"

Ella laughed. "I had the wrong apron on before."

"I bet you've just got two names," the man said. "Cindy-Ella."

"And what is your name?" Kristen asked.

"Oh. I'm sorry. My name is Jason." He held out his hand for Ella to shake.

"Nice to meet you," Ella replied, shaking his hand.

"So, are you back in the gallery next week?" he asked Ella.

"Yup," Ella replied with a smile. "The owner likes my work."

"As he should. The passion on the canvas is incredible. Where did you get your inspiration?"

Ella's mind went blank. She certainly wasn't going to tell this man that her inspiration, the focus of all of her passion, was a snake of a man who she wanted nothing to do with. "Oh. Um."

"Prince songs, of course," Kirsten joked.

Jason laughed. "Of course. Well, I hope we inspired you to paint some more. Is it all right if I put up another flyer on the bulletin board?"

"Sure," Ella said.

"Thanks," Jason replied. "You're a gem, Cindy-Ella."

"Are you going to call me that?" Ella asked.

"Probably," Jason said, looking back at her. "Is that all right?"

Ella considered. "I suppose so. Should I call you Prince, then?"

"Nah, too confusing," Jason replied.

"It would have to be Prince Charming, then," Kristen replied with a smirk.

"Now that I am not," Jason replied. "Let's just stick with Jason for now."

"Okay, Jason," Ella replied.

Jason smiled and finished putting up his flyer. "See you Friday, Cindy-Ella."

As soon as he left, Kristen turned to Ella. "So? Is he your new muse?"

"What do you mean?" Ella asked.

"That was a lot of flirting," Kristen pointed out.

Ella smiled and shrugged. "I'm single now. I can flirt all I want."

"Damn right," Kirsten replied. "Good for you! Maybe you'll have to stick around after the show Friday."

"I work Saturday morning again," Ella replied.

"Switch with someone," Kirsten said.

"No," Ella told her, suddenly fearful. "No. I don't want to go out with him."

"Because Jack started out charming too?" Kristen asked.

"Why do you know me so well?" Ella asked.

"Because I've known you forever and I'm a genius," Kristen replied, sticking out her tongue. "But, to get back to Jason, don't worry about it. Just because you like to flirt with him doesn't mean it needs to go further if you don't want it to."

"I guess," Ella replied.

-

That Friday, the gallery wasn't as full as it had been. On his break, Jason came over to find Ella.

"Hey, Cindy-Ella," he greeted her. "How's the crowd for you tonight?"

"Not too bad," Ella replied with a smile, sliding her foot back into her shoe. She had been about to kick off her heels, but she wasn't going to do that now. "There's not as many as there were last week, though."

"I know. Last week's crowd was ready to party. This week, well, they need a bit more encouragement."

"Good thing we've got a great band," Ella replied.

"To go with the great art," Jason shot back.

Ella laughed and pulled her hair away from her face.

"Hey," Jason said, grabbing her hand. "You've been painting. Anything that made it here?"

"Oh no," Ella replied, taking her hand back a little reluctantly. "No, I can't make anything that quickly."

"That's fair," Jason replied. "I can't imagine how long this takes."

"Awhile," Ella replied, shrugging. "How long does it take to learn a new song?"

"You mean for me or for the guitarist?" Jason joked. "We're actually starting to expand a bit. We've written some songs and a few of them sound enough like Prince that we can sort of sneak them in and no one really notices."

"That's awesome," Ella said. "Are you playing any of them here?"

"Nah," Jason said. "We asked and the owner said no. We're working on getting more shows in bars, though. They're not so picky there."

"I could imagine that," Ella replied.

Jason looked over to his band. "Oh, I've got to go, but it was nice to talk to you again."

"You too," Ella said, smiling. She watched Jason walk away. Then someone grabbed her arm. Ella whipped around.

"Who was that?" Jack asked.

"What does it matter?" Ella asked, jerking her arm out of his grip.

"Of course it matters. I love you."

"You don't own me," Ella snapped. She took a breath. "Jack. Go home. Stop trying to talk to me. I'm done."

"What do you mean done?" Jack asked.

"Exactly that." Ella looked around. Too many people were looking at them. "Now go home."

Jack looked around and Ella followed his gaze to the band. Jason was staring at Ella and Jack.

"Fine," Jack snapped. He turned on his heel and walked out. After a flurry of conversation in the band, Charming started playing Purple Rain, but Ella wasn't sure if Jason meant it for Jack or her.

-

The days slid by sluggishly. Kristen was getting to the end of her master's program and Ella was already dreading the last day they'd work together. Ella let her emotions out in her art. She finally got Jack to leave her alone, but she hadn't heard from Jason since the night at the gallery.

Ella started painting shoes. Shoes jumbled together with reds and bright, passionate colors. Shoes walking away with sad blues. She painted the heels that she hated in disarray and the strappy sandals she loved walking or dancing. She painted Jack's shoes torn to shreds. She painted Jason's shoes, although she didn't fully remember them. She put them on a pedestal and that seemed about right. She sent her paintings to the gallery, but the shows weren't as great. They now hired a different band for their gallery openings. Still, the money was good.

Eventually, Ella let Kristen talk her into going out one night. Ella didn't have to work the next morning, for a change. Kirsten was very excited about a bar she'd discovered and the bands that played there. Ella got herself ready to go out, but her heart wasn't really in it. Kristen came and picked her up. "We've got to get you out more," she said.

"I guess," Ella replied.

"No, we do," Kristen replied. "Hank needs someone else to talk to when we go to bars anyway."

"Really," Ella stated, looking at Hank.

Hank shrugged and laughed.

The bar Kristen took them to was crowded and the band was loud, with lights from the stage moving all over the bar. "I'll go get us drinks," Kristen yelled, walking to the bar.

Ella looked at Hank. They both shrugged and headed toward one of the tall tables near the dance floor.

"What song is this?" Ella asked Hank.

Hank listened for a moment. "I don't know," he replied. "It sounds familiar."

"It sounds like Prince," Ella replied. Then she put it together. Her eyes shot to the stage and, sure enough, Jason was up there singing his heart out. Ella just stood there staring until the song ended. Then she snapped out of it and started clapping and cheering. The light panned over her and Ella swore her eyes met Jason's. He looked as shocked as she did. Then, he looked away and started talking to his band.

Ella tried to shake it off. Kirsten came over to their table with drinks. "How's the band?" she asked innocently.

"You brat," Ella replied.

"You're welcome." Kristen stuck her tongue out.

"We'd like to do another original song for you before our break," Jason said. The crowd cheered. "It's called Cindy-Ella."

Ella was floored. He wrote a song about her? It was hard to hear all of the lyrics, but it sounded like their story. A guy and a girl met and liked each other, but there was an old boyfriend so the guy backed off. It was better not to tempt them both, even if he didn't want to leave her to him. After that song, the band went for a break and Ella walked to the stage, absentmindedly pushing her way through the other fans.

"You couldn't just come ask me?" she asked Jason.

"I was a little worried about the other guy."

"Why? We broke up." Ella arched her eyebrow.

"Oh. It's just I saw something like this happen to my friend and I didn't want to get mixed up in anything if you were taken."

Ella shook her head. "If we're going to have anything, which I'm still not sure about, let's start by talking about these things."

Jason smiled. "Good call. Although, this does make a better song."

"And better art, I guess," Ella allowed. "Still. If you do that again, I might not kiss you again."

"Oh?" Jason asked. "We've never kissed."

"Not yet," Ella allowed. She smiled and leaned in. Jason leaned in to meet her and they kissed on the side of the stage while the fans cheered.

Cinderella Again

I may be dirty, but I'm still pretty!

Hello, dear reader. This week, we'll look at the story of Cinderella, which was the first fairy tale I analyzed on this blog. If you want a refresher on this story, or if you know there's more than one version and want to see which one I'm referencing, read Cinderella as told by Perrault.

Every time I read this story, I'm astounded by Cinderella. Usually in a bad way, but this version is worse than some others in that respect. Not only is Cinderella inexplicably nice to her stepsisters while they're all at the ball, but once Cinderella is revealed to be the beautiful princess, she immediately forgives her stepsisters for everything and gets them married to lords. What is wrong with this girl? There's a line between being nice and being a doormat and Cinderella took a running jump over that line. Maybe that's why the prince liked her so much, because she would go along with whatever he said. It would be mean to disagree with him. Or something.

I am also surprised at the stepsisters. They must have really never looked at Cinderella in all the years they lived together. It would definitely make a difference in Cinderella's appearance to have her washed and dressed up, but she didn't try to hide herself. She even talked with her stepsisters and gave them food. From the sounds of the story, this was a definite conversation. Even after they got home and Cinderella was all clean from her usual ashes, the stepsisters never put it together that they had seen her at the ball. If Cinderella goes too far with being accommodating, then they go too far with not recognizing people. It's actually kind of worrisome. The only explanation I can go for here is that they either willfully ignored that this was the same woman, or the godmother put a spell on Cinderella so her stepsisters wouldn't recognize her.

This fairy tale is yet another one in which it's mostly just women interacting with each other while the men are on the sidelines. That being said, I am surprised the stepmother plays almost no role in this story. In some of the other versions, she is the one leading the charge to put Cinderella down. In this story, she's there to put in a word of disapproval, and then she vanishes. It's really just Cinderella versus her terrible stepsisters. I have to wonder about how this strange household survived. This was in the days when three women living alone wouldn't have been possible unless they were under someone else's protection. I'm just going to assume that Cinderella's dad traveled all the time and that was good enough for everyone else.

The moral of this story is that even doormats can find true love. Alternatively, if you're set up to be the mean stepmother, do the minimum amount of work and then go find a fairy tale where you can be happy.

Have a different moral? A suggestion for a story you want to see here? Want to talk about your favorite Cinderella movie? Comment below!

Two-Faced

Salutations, dear reader. Last week, we took a deeper look at the story of Hansel and Gretel and some of the characters in it. This week, we have my modern version of this tale.

Totally not lost.

Every story has a beginning, but sometimes it's hard to say where it is. Was it when he met Emily, his first wife? When they had their son, Hank, or when they had their daughter Gretta? Did the story start when she died shortly after birthing Gretta? Maybe the story started when he, a lonely and depressed man, met Amy and married her not long after.

Whenever it started, Aaron now found himself flipping between his bills, his bank account, and his severance letter. The layoffs hadn't been kind to anyone, but Aaron found himself wishing, yet again, that he could confide in someone about how it impacted him. Amy wouldn't hear of it.

"Don't share our business with other people!" she would chide him. "An ideal husband doesn't gossip." As Aaron learned, anything could be an opportunity for gossip. Staying out too late with his friends could make other people gossip, especially if any of those friends were women. Calling his mother without Amy nearby could be gossip. She had worked her way into every aspect of his life, but he knew he was better off. Now he was above reproach, as long as he followed the rules.

Getting laid off had broken one of those rules, and Amy had barely spoken to him all week. He tried to put a brave face on for the children, but he was devastated. What kind of a man can't provide for his family? Aaron sighed and looked at his bank account one more time. They could pay the bills this month, but he would need to get another job before they were due again. Somehow.

It was about this time that Amy's hiking mania came back. That had been one of the first things Aaron loved about Amy. She loved to be outside and active. Now she led them on family hikes through the forest. It was always the same forest, but Amy took them to a different part each time. She hardly ever used the paths. She pulled them along through the trees and just as Aaron was worried that she was really lost, they would come upon a crystal clear stream, or the tallest tree Aaron had ever seen, perfectly centered in a clearing.

When they got to their destination, Aaron would sit with the kids and hand out the snacks. Amy, never one to sit still outside, would pace, staying just in sight, checking trees, or watching squirrels suspiciously. Several times, Aaron realized the only way they would get back out is if she led them. He was thoroughly lost every time.

One day, after they had walked farther than usual, the kids were dozing, tired of trying to get a signal on their phones when there was none, and Amy called Aaron over to look at a bird building its nest. It was moments like these, holding hands and quietly watching something magical, when Aaron felt hopeful. The bird flitted away and Amy started following it. Aaron followed her for awhile. Then he began to get worried. "What about the kids?" he asked.

"We'll get them," Amy replied. "Come on!"

So, Aaron followed her through the forest and, with a start, realized they were back in the parking lot. "We have to go back!" he said.

"It's dark," Amy replied, and it was. "We could walk right past them and never know."

"But they're our kids!" Aaron replied. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Hank! Gretta! Where are you?" Of course, there was no answer.

"Someone will find them tomorrow," Amy said, unlocking the car.

"Tomorrow?" Aaron asked. "We need to find them now."

"It will do them no harm to sleep outside for one night," Amy lectured. "My parents did the same for me and I survived." She opened the car door. "Now get inside."

"No. I need to find my kids." Aaron started to walk back into the forest the way they came.

"If you step back into that forest, I will leave you!" Amy yelled.

Aaron stopped. He didn't know if she meant that she would drive away, or that once he made it home, she would he gone. He couldn't stand that. She made him better. He needed her. She had to be right, like she'd been right so many times before. He didn't always know what was best.

"Now!" Amy yelled.

Regretfully, Aaron walked to the car and got in. "You make me so angry," Amy told him as she pulled out of the parking lot. Aaron didn't reply. He watched the forest as long as he could when they drove away, but he didn't see Hank or Gretta come out.

Aaron didn't sleep that night. Amy reminded him that she was going to her mother's house the next day on an early flight.

"Can't you cancel?" Aaron asked her.

Amy looked at him coolly. "The kids will be fine," she remarked. "I have to go see my mother. Why would you try to keep us apart?"

Aaron swallowed his response. He nodded once and left the room. He must have dozed off in front of the TV because he never heard Amy leave. Instead, he woke up to someone knocking on the door. Groggily, Aaron levered himself out of his chair and answered.

Hank and Gretta were standing on the step.

"Kids!" Aaron yelled. "Come inside!" He pulled them into a hug, telling them how much he loved them, how he would never leave them behind again. Eventually, he let them go a little and asked how they got home.

"We were following a trail of big rocks out to the tree," Hank replied. "We've followed it before. It was kind of hard to find them in the dark, but we followed them back."

"We've been walking forever," Gretta said, sniffling a little.

Aaron scooped her up. "Who wants to have breakfast in front of the TV?" he asked.

"Me! Me!" Gretta yelled.

"I do!" Hank said.

Aaron brought Gretta into the living room and set her on the couch. He brought the kids their cereal and they watched cartoons together. Maybe it had been okay to let them sleep outside for a night. They definitely needed a bath, but they didn't seem to be in bad shape.

The rest of the day, Aaron barely let the kids out of his sight while he applied for jobs. He knew some people around town. Maybe one of them could get him a job. He went to bed that night with a smile on his face.

The next day, Aaron dropped the kids off at school, and watched them walk away until he was sure they were safe. He went home to start making a few calls. He had gotten a few done, when Amy came back home.

"Hello!" Aaron greeted her with a kiss. "The kids came home yesterday! You were right."

"Of course I was right," Amy snapped back. He could tell she was angry about something, but it was never a good idea to ask what it was.

By the time he brought the kids home from school, Amy was back to her pleasant self and Aaron relaxed. The next weekend, Amy took them hiking again. "We can't leave the kids this time," Aaron whispered to Amy.

Amy shook him off and turned to the forest. "Let's find the waterfall today," she announced. It was rare for Amy to tell them where they were going and Aaron could tell the kids were excited to see a waterfall. Again, Amy took them on a long trip through the trees. They walked across the paths a few times, but never followed them. Eventually, the dull roaring they had been hearing got louder and they were right in front of the waterfall.

Aaron had been here before, but it always took his breath away. Hank had been carrying the backpack with their snacks, but he set it down. Then, the kids yelled and ran toward the waterfall. After awhile, Aaron pulled out their snacks and they all relaxed by the falls. They were short a bag of crackers, but Aaron made do without. He must have forgotten to pack enough. When they were done eating, Aaron made himself comfortable and closed his eyes to better hear the waterfall.

Aaron opened his eyes again to find it was close to sunset. "Where are the kids?" he asked Amy.

"They ran off," Amy replied. "We'd better go get them. It's getting late."

Aaron agreed, so they set off where Amy had seen the kids go. The farther they walked, the more Aaron wondered if they were going in the right direction. "Of course it's the right direction," he chided himself. "Amy knows what she's doing." Then, suddenly, they were back in the parking lot. "Where are our kids?" Aaron asked Amy.

Amy shrugged. "I swear they went that way, but they must have gotten lost."

"We have to go back for them," Aaron told her.

Amy looked at him and raised her eyebrow. "Why? They were perfectly fine last time. They'll be fine this time."

Aaron opened his mouth to argue.

"You did it before. Don't contradict yourself." This was another of Amy's rules that made him better.

Aaron swallowed and looked at her. "Yes, dear," he said at last. He got in the car.

"I'm going to visit my sister," Amy announced when they were almost home.

"You're leaving again?" Aaron asked.

Amy sniffed. "I've had this trip planned for months, but I have to leave right away."

"Oh," Aaron replied sadly.

They didn't talk the rest of the ride home.

Aaron fell asleep in front of the TV again that night. The next morning, he kept looking down the street, hoping to see the kids. He thought about going back out to the forest to find them, but what if they came home and he wasn't there? Aaron debated with himself about what he was supposed to do. He couldn't ask anyone else except Amy, and she wasn't responding to his texts. Eventually, Aaron realized it was night and he couldn't go look for them now anyway. He slept in the living room so he would hear it if they knocked on the door.

The next morning, Aaron woke up and the kids still weren't back. Aaron wasn't sure if calling the police was gossiping and Amy still hadn't replied to him. He tried calling her, but it went straight to her voicemail. Aaron paced the house, and finally got in the car to go back to the forest. He had to stick to the paths or he would never find his way out again, so he couldn't search as much as he would like. Still, Aaron walked up and down the paths, yelling for Hank and Gretta until it got too dark. He asked anyone he saw if they had seen his kids, but no one had. Finally, Aaron had to head home, only to be disappointed that they hadn't come back while he was gone. He didn't think he would sleep, but exhaustion kicked in and he passed out on the couch.

The next morning, Aaron decided that if he hadn't found them by lunch time, he was calling the police, no matter what Amy would say. She still was not responding to him and Aaron was beginning to get worried about her, too. He thought about calling Amy's sister to make sure Amy had gotten there all right, but Amy said things like that were manipulative. Maybe after he called the police about the kids, he would call Amy's sister. Aaron got back in his car and drove out to the forest again. He searched again, but he still did not find them. Around noon, Aaron found himself at a picnic site, so he sat down at one of the tables and brought out his lunch. He had brought three, just in case he found the kids.

As Aaron sat there eating, he remembered his promise to himself. Now that it was coming time, he didn't want to call the police. What if they thought he was a bad father? But he had to find his kids. Sighing, Aaron called the non-emergency number, glad he could get cell phone service. He explained that his kids were lost in the forest and he was looking for them. They promised to send some police out right away to help. He was to stay at the picnic site until they got to him. Aaron hung up the phone and stared at his lunch. He didn't want to eat, but he made himself. He had to keep up his strength for the search.

Aaron heard some kids yelling in the distance and thought that whoever was with them didn't realize how lucky they were. The kids kept yelling and Aaron looked up. They were Hank and Gretta! Aaron leapt up from the table and ran to them. When he got to them, he picked them both up and hugged them tight. "We are never going hiking again!" Aaron promised them, in between asking if they were okay and telling them that he loved them. Eventually, they went back to the table and Hank and Gretta devoured the lunch he gave them.

"What happened?" Aaron asked.

"We went to see a squirrel and when we came back, you and Mom were gone," Hank said, finishing the last of his meal.

"We went to find you," Aaron said.

Hank shook his head. "Mom knew where we went, and it wasn't far. I left a trail of crumbs from the crackers so we could get back, but the birds must have eaten it."

"But we found her that night!" Gretta replied happily.

"What?" Aaron asked.

"There was a house in the woods," Hank said. "It looked like gingerbread and there was a light on. We knocked on the door and there was Mom."

"She was in a house in the woods?" Aaron asked.

"She tried to eat us!" Gretta yelled.

"Eat you?!" Aaron asked.

Hank nodded. "First she made us dinner, all nice and everything, and then we got sleepy. When we woke up, I was locked in a cell and Mom told Gretta she had to clean up the house and start getting ready to cook me up!"

Gretta nodded solemnly. "Cook him up," she repeated.

"She tried to make me eat all day, but I wouldn't do it," Hank continued. "She kept saying she had to eat me soon." He shivered.

"I'm sure Mom wouldn't eat you," Aaron began.

"No," Hank disagreed. "She was going to eat me. I spent the night in that cell. There was a chain around my leg!" Hank lifted his leg and Aaron could see a sore spot on his ankle. Just like a chain might leave.

Aaron's face went white. "What happened next?" he asked.

"She wanted the oven to be nice and hot," Gretta said. "She said I had to check the thermometer in the back, but I couldn't see one. She climbed in to show me and I shut the door."

Aaron's stomach dropped. "Was the oven on?" he asked.

Gretta nodded and smiled. "Yup," she said. "She wanted to cook me up too, right Hank?"

"It wasn't a game," Hank reminded her. He turned to Aaron. "Gretta locked the oven shut and let me out. We stayed there until... Well, until it got quiet."

Aaron realized his kids were telling him they'd killed his wife. And that she had wanted to eat them. It was absurd. It couldn't be real. But what marked up Hank's leg? And where had they been for the past two days?

Just then, Aaron saw two police officers walking toward them.

"Aaron?" one of them asked.

"Here," Aaron said, shaking.

"Looks like you found your kids," one of the cops said, smiling.

"Mom tried to eat us!" Gretta told them happily.

"I'm sure she did," the cop replied with a smile.

"She's not joking," Aaron said weakly. Both cops' attention snapped to him. "Can you-" Aaron coughed to find his voice. "Can you find my wife's phone? The kids were telling me she has a house out here and she tried to.... She tried to..." Aaron couldn't finish talking. He started crying and pulling his kids to him. Then, Gretta started crying, and Hank did too. The cops brought the trio back to their car to look for Amy's phone. They got a hit, and it was in the middle of the forest.

One of the officers began calling for backup.

"You don't need to worry about it," Aaron told the other weakly. "She's dead."

"I think we'd better take you down to the station," the cop replied.

"That would be for the best," Aaron said, sighing.

It turned out that the police found everything as Hank and Gretta described it in the forest, including Amy's teeth in the oven among the ashes and bones. She had been burned. There were several cages with chains in them, but only one was standing open. In a way, it was almost a relief to Aaron that his kids hadn't made up something so horrible. But it was worse that it had happened. As the police talked to Aaron about counseling for all three of them, Aaron couldn't help but wonder how much he could tell a therapist. After all, he had to follow Amy's rules and he couldn't let anyone gossip about him.

-

If Amy's behavior seems familiar to you, or if you identify with Aaron, please check out this site.