As most stories go, this one also begins with those four famous words, 'Once upon a time.' But unlike the stories that begin with those words, this one is far from a fairy tale. What you may not know is that at one point in time all those characters had a life and a story before those words introduced them. So I guess this tale should begin with:
Once before a time there was a small family who lived on a farm that was surrounded by trees. It was more of a clearing the family decided to farm rather than an open field with fertile soil. In spite of that the family was able to bring in an excellent harvest every season. There were only three people living there at that time, a mother, father, and their boy. The boy was thirteen, old enough to maintain the field, but not old enough to go out on his own yet.
When his fourteenth birthday came around his parents were poor despite their hearty harvest that year. Unable to buy a present for their hard working boy, the father headed out into the trees, determined to find something for his young Peter. While walking along the path he saw many things, but nothing his Peter would adore. There was a sturdy stick for hiking, Peter spent all his time working the field. There were many animals that would make great pets, they could barely afford to feed themselves, much less a non-working pet. Their pelts kept you very warm during the winter months, but Peter would never like wearing something that used to be alive. On and on he traveled, deeper into the trees he went, until he became so exhausted he had to rest for a bit and to eat his small lunch. "Ah, my dear Peter, how I wish I could give you something you'd enjoy for your birthday." He said with a sigh. Leaning against a great tree, the man closed his eyes to rest before resuming his search. A whisper carried on an autumn breeze called to him. "I'm here." It called sweetly.
His eyes opened quickly in shock. "Who's there?" he called out.
"I'm right here." It called again.
"Where is here?"
"Look up and you'll know." The haunting voice whispered.
Looking up he only saw the light filtered through tree branches. "I only see branches."
"Whittle one of my branches into a flute for your Peter." Then the voice left just as quickly as it had come.
Wasting no time, the farmer climbed up and harvested a healthy branch to do as the voice had commanded.
For the rest of the day the man worked and whittled a grand flute out of the branch for his beloved son. Finally the flute was finished, giving it a blow to test it, the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard floated from it. With a smile he raced back to their small house with the present hidden under his cloak.
When Peter returned from checking the field the flute was waiting for him on the table.
"What is that father?" Peter asked when he saw the magnificent present waiting for him.
"It's the present for your birthday my boy." His father declared happily. Peter picked up the flute and played a simple melody on it. The flute gave the song a magical feeling that flowed on the air like a warm breeze. Peter smiled happily at his present. "Thank you father, it's the best present I've ever gotten."
"Don't forget your birthday dinner." His mother reminded him with a smile.
That night after dinner the family was gathered around the fireplace enjoying the sweet sound of music coming from Peter's flute. The old mousing cat that lived with them came over to lay by the warm fire and enjoy the music Peter made. Suddenly a fat mouse scurried out to Peter, but it never made it all the way when the cat pounced on the mouse who responded with a squeak. The family smiled at the cat who proudly carried it's catch away to devour.
The more Peter played his flute, the better he became at it. By the time spring rolled around Peter had become a master at his flute. Whenever he went into town he would play beautiful music that would cause everyone to turn their heads towards the source of the heavenly sound. The more he played, the more people would watch as he passed. When he stopped, people would approach him and place coins in his hand. His classmates would whisper about him behind his back, which Peter heard, but never gave a second thought to. Their lives were easy, no farm to tend, and no need for them to make extra money to support their family.
One cloudy day Peter was heading to town playing a new song when a mouse scurried onto the path he was on, not thinking about it he continued on his way. A little farther on a few more mice ran past him. With his curiosity intrigued, he sat on a large rock that was next to the path and began the song from the beginning. As he played mice came scurrying out to him and danced around him. When he finished and lowered the flute the mice that had grown to over two dozen, scurried away back into their homes. With a smile he continued on to town.
In town he found the baker to be pulling out his hair with panic. "Baker, what is the matter?" Peter asked politely.
"These rodents are always eating my stock. I can't sell bread that mice have eaten. They'll eat me out of business."
Peter thought about it and an idea came to him. "I might be able to help you catch them." He offered.
The baker scoffed at Peter's offer. "How will you do that? They sleep during the day when the store is open, and there are so many of them. They're in the walls and below the floors."
"Would you let me try?" Peter asked.
With a laugh the baker replied, "If you can get all the mice and rats out, you can have as much bread from my store that you can eat."
Nervously Peter stepped inside the store and began playing the song that made the mice approach him so happily before. At first the mice didn't stir, but then they began to dance around him. Stepping lightly he danced his way around the mice out of the store, into the street and out of town into the woods. With the mice following happily and the townspeople watching wide eyed at what they were seeing, Peter continued playing happily.
When his companions scattered at the end of his song he returned to the baker.
"That was amazing Peter!" the baker exclaimed when the boy returned.
"I've never seen anything like that!" the townspeople exclaimed excitedly. Peter held his flute nervously at all the attension they were giving him. The baker broke through the crowd to shove two large loaves of bread into Peter's arms.
"You didn't get rid of the rats, but you got the mice for me. Here's a thank you from me."
Thinking hard Peter had a new idea, "Could I come back tonight and try?"
The baker smiled with a nod, "Of course!"
That night Peter snuck out after his parents had gone to sleep and headed to town. The streets were black under the cover of night. Shadows darkened the space between buildings with a velvety black.
Licking his lips nervously Peter began his song that had charmed the mice earlier that day. Like before nothing happened at first, but then large rats began to come out of the bakery to Peter. As he led them out of town more joined him and danced at his feet happily. The rodents followed him all the way into the woods far away from town.
When Peter woke the next morning light was shining brightly in through his window. Entering the kitchen, his mother greeted him with a smile. "Are you feeling well? When I tried to wake you this morning you didn't respond."
"I guess I must've really needed the sleep." Peter mumbled. He didn't know how his mother or father would respond to his late night, so he kept it to himself. "Where's father gone?"
With a sigh Peter's mother responded. "Since you never woke up, he had to go into town for you. He should be back any minute now."
Just then Peter's father came in the front door. "You wouldn't believe what happened today." Peter's father proclaimed with full arms.
"Why did you get so much food? We won't be able to pay the bills from them." Peter's mother inquired worriedly while taking some bags.
"I didn't buy anything, the shopkeepers insisted on me taking them. And it's strange, but they all said to thank Peter. When I asked them why they merely said how wonderful a boy he is, and how he saved their businesses." Peter's father turned to his son who was nervously standing in the corner of the room. "Why did they say that Peter?"
Squirming nervously and ringing his hands, Peter fought with telling them or not, but finally couldn't think of something to say. "I discovered that if I play this one song on my flute mice and rats come over to me and will follow me wherever I go while playing it." Sharing a skeptical glance, his parents listened as Peter showed them.
"You cannot do that in town anymore." His parents told him sternly.
"Why not? It doesn't hurt anyone, and it's helping people." Peter defended.
"No, if you keep that up people will avoid you. Then how will you get married and go out on your own?"
"Why would I worry about marriage now? I haven't even gone out on my own to begin a new life of my own, to test my life skills."
Without hesitation his father snapped back. "Because we've arranged for you and the butcher's daughter to be married on the first day of summer."
Silence filled the room until Peter quietly whispered, "What?"
"It's finalized, you and she will be together. It's a smart arrangement. They have meat and money, and we have farming and if we cut down some trees we could have land too."
"You can't." Peter protested.
"It's already done." His father replied.
"No, I won't!" Peter hollered before he ran out the front door with his cloak in one hand and flute in the other.
Six years later a young man silently walked through the streets of a town he'd never seen before. His eyes were scanning the storefronts for the town hall who had called him there. Whispers and hushed voices surrounded the man as he went. When he finally found the town hall the voices were cut off with the closing of the large doors.
"You sent for the famous pied piper to solve your town's rodent problem I hear."
The man sitting behind the desk looked at the stranger standing before him. "We did, but we need him, not a child. Be gone with you and bring us your master."
With a flourish of his green cloak, the man held a wooden flute in one hand and bowed grandly. "I present the pied piper," looking up at the man behind the desk he continued darkly. "I have no master."
The man stuttered and flew to his feet apologizing to his guest. "I'm terribly sorry sir. I meant no insult to you, I mean, you do look to be very young to be a master of a trade and to have such a reputation."
The piper raised a hand to silence the babbling man. "It's quite alright, you're not the first to do that and most certainly won't be the last. Tell me about your problem. Why have you sent for me?" he sat gently in a chair opposite the man and listened.
"Our village has been plagued by an overflow of rodents. Every night rats cover the streets and eat our food. If they keep this up I fear there won't be enough food to see us through the winter."
"This is not a new story for my ears to hear. By morning your problem will be gone." The man began rejoicing at the news, but was cut off when the piper raised a hand to silence him. "But," he emphasized. "my services do not come cheap."
"We will pay whatever you feel is right."
"The price is five hundred gold pieces." The man's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Done." The man confirmed with a nod. Getting up from his chair, the piper left the man until the next morning.
Whispers followed him again on his way to the inn. "One room, one night, two meals." He told the innkeeper while looking around at the staring faces. The small woman at the desk opened a log book and scribbled down the information.
"May I have your name?" she asked timidly.
"Piper, that's all you need." He told her as he set several silver coins on the counter.
"You're going to be in room four, down the hall on your left." She told him as she handed him a key.
The room was small and bare, reminding the piper of the house he had left behind years earlier. Laying on the bed, he closed his eyes for a rest before the night's work ahead of him.
When the piper woke, it was late afternoon and the sun was beginning its decent. When he stood, he noticed there was something amiss. His flute was missing! Looking around under the bed and on it he ran out of the room to the main lobby. Scanning the inhabitants of the room he found no one who had it. He ran out the door and listened for the call that he knew would inevitably ring out.
After the sun had set and the moon was high overhead, he heard the notes of someone playing his flute. The sound was getting louder as he ran through the streets. Landing lightly on his feet he landed in the person's path.
"What do you think you're doing?" the angry piper growled at the figure.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but we didn't have another option." The man from town hall's voice apologized profusely. "The town is broke, we could never pay you. I thought that if I played your pipe and brought the rats out of town, we wouldn't need you and therefore wouldn't have to pay you."
"So you stole my property to avoid paying me our agreed price." He plucked the flute from the man's numb hands. "For your betrayal towards me I shall repay you in the same." With that he brought the flute up and began playing the most haunting tune the other man had ever heard.
Slowly the doors to the houses began to open and children emerged in trances, like they were sleep walking. A dark light shined in the piper's eyes as he danced away with the children following loyally. The man from town hall was frozen where he stood, unable to move or make a sound in protest.
When morning broke cries rose in the air when worried parents discovered their children missing. People ran out into the streets searching for the children. The man stood where the piper had left him, still frozen.
"Where's our children? Where'd our children go? Where've they gone?" rang out to the man who couldn't do anything to help calm the townspeople.
The piper continued playing into the morning. The children danced along with him as he journeyed into woods and brought the children to a large, old tree. When the tree heard his playing its roots moved to open a hole in the ground for the children to enter.
"Come to me." A voice whispered on a breeze. The piper leaned against the trunk of the tree as he played, listening to the whisper on the wind. "Join me, children. I'm all alone here." A shimmering figure appeared at the opening of the tree. It was a young girl with long blonde hair with waves and a tattered nightgown that shimmered like it had a light from within. She reached a pale hand out to the children who descended into the tree without notice of her.
The girl looked at Peter when the last child entered the tree and smiled darkly at him. Peter looked sideways at her and gave a small nod with the slightest hint of a smile. "You're mine now." The girl whispered in his ear before entering the hole in the ground. The roots of the tree moved back where they had been before as if nothing had happened. When the song ended silence ruled the area and Peter the pied piper left for the next town.