Chapter 2: In the Woods

Karl chopped away at the tree, eager to finish his work and return home for the day. Still, his shoulders were sore, and he paused in his work to mop his brow. He glanced over at his basket from lunch, but he knew it was empty. The affectionate Greta he knew from the first days of his marriage had long since disappeared.

With the birth of their daughter, she had become a colder, unfeeling woman. Perhaps that was the way she had always been. She did little to clean the house or care for the garden anymore. Truth be told, Karl was not entirely sure what she did spend the day doing. The few times he'd come home during the day to repair his ax, or because of a storm, Greta had either been napping by the fire, or coming back from wandering in the woods, her arms full of herbs that she kept hidden from Karl. One time he had come home and remarked on the smells of spices in the room from a large pot Greta was stirring over. She had scowled, poured the contents into a jar, and buried them in the backyard. The next day she told Karl to build her a fire pit behind the barn where they kept their horse. Whatever concoctions she made, she made them out of sight of Karl. It made him uneasy to know she still practiced her craft, but he was afraid to say anything about it. Afraid she would...

"Papa!" cried a cheerful voice. Karl turned around to see Mabel, standing only a yard away. When she saw her father looking at her, she jumped forward and threw her hands up. "Grrrr!" She growled. Karl burst out laughing.

Mabel pouted and dropped her hands. "I didn't scare you?"

Karl shook his head. "As good as you've got at walking silently Mabel, I'm afraid you just don't have a scary bone in your body. Mabel looked disappointed, but Karl cupped her chin and tilted her face up./

"Never mind that Mabel. Look at how quiet you were. I didn't hear a sound before you called out." Mabel's face brightened.

She continued to smile as she pulled out a kerchief bundle. A sweet, delicious smell was wafting from the warm package. "I brought you some biscuits papa! Mama helped me make them fresh this morning!"

"Oh, did she now?" asked Karl, pleasantly surprised.

"Yes, and we can eat all of them." Mabel smiled as she spread the blanket on her arm on the ground and sat down. Karl smiled, and set his ax out of the way before joining his young daughter on the ground. Mabel started to pull out a cookie to eat, but Karl stopped her. "Are you forgetting something?" Mabel's brow puckered, but then she nodded and quickly bowed her head to say grace before biting into her treat. Karl ate a treat slowly.

"They are delicious.:

Mabel shook her head happily. "We made them today after Mama had me practice. Mama has me practice walking around too Papa, only she calls it sneaking."

"Oh does she now?" asked Karl, failing to keep his voice completely even. "Well, you must have done well. Your mother doesn't cook often anymore."

"I did do well, and Mama thought my face was scary! Then, she said she would make them for me if I...oh!" Mabel's eyes went wide and she quickly closed her mouth. /

"Aye, what's this now? You don't keep secrets from your father. What did you do for your mother?"/

Mabel looked down and folded her hands. "Nothing," she said quietly.

Karl put his hand around Mabel./

"Mabel," he said gently, "tell me."

Mabel looked sheepishly off into the distance. "I caught a bird today."

"Oh?" said Karl. "Birds did always seem to take to you. They seem to be the friendliest creature here."

Mabel stayed silent. Karl finally prodded her. "What was the bird for?" Mabel took a gulp. "Mama said I had to catch it, and when I did...she told me to...she wanted to cook it."

Karl nodded. He knew his little girl didn't like hurting the animals. Her mother had taught her to kill and pluck a chicken, but Mabel never liked doing it, and Karl tried to keep her from it, but he knew Greta still made Mabel do it when he wasn't home."

"So you had to pluck it?" he asked gently. Mabel shook her head. "I'm not supposed to tell."

"Mabel," Karl pleaded.

"Mama had me...use my teeth to break its neck. She said I needed to be stronger."

"I see," said Karl with a frown.

Karl gave Mabel's shoulders a tight squeeze. They couldn't go on like this. Mabel couldn't go on. Being pulled one way, and then another. It was becoming clearer and clearer to Karl that Greta had not given up her Witch ways, or her plans for her daughter. The biscuits scent still reached up to him, but Karl had not interest in gifts his wife made if his daughter behaved violently for her.

"Well, you're mother's got the wrong idea about strength my girl," said Karl standing up. "Before we finish your snack, let me see you climb. Show your Father what real strengths is."

Mabel sat up straighter with a smile and jumped to her feet. FMabel than a hare, she raced to a sturdy oak. Karl had tried to keep her nails short, but when he saw how determined Greta was that they would grow and harden, he'd decided to use them to further protect Mabel. Mabel surveyed the tree for a moment, and then drove her nails into the bark, and started to climb. Her shoes were a thin leather, and they helped her to grip. Karl had taught her how to hold with her knees too till she could reach the higher branches closer together. In just a few moments, Mabel had made it to almost the top. /

"Stop when it sways!" called out Karl. "You keep growing every day, don't step on a branch that can't take your weight!"

Mabel paused near the top, and looked out around her. "I can still climb higher than you Papa!" Glancing the other say, Mabel cried out in glee. "Papa, I can see the village from here! I never knew it was so close!"

Karl frowned, and looked the way Mabel was. A village to the west? He'd been seeing more and more new faces, but he hadn't realized a new settlement had taken root. They were being boxed in closer and closer. Perhaps their time on this mountain was near its end.

Well done my lass, now hurry back down!" called Karl, a slight hint of urgency in his voice. Mabel hurried down and dropped to the grass in front of him. "Now can we finish our treat?" she asked.

"Aye", said Karl, still looking off to the west. "Let's have our treat, and then we both best hurry home.

Back at the house, Greta hurried to finish her potion. She hoped Mabel would keep Karl busy today. Like Karl, she too had noticed the new, small settlement to the West. More people were coming to this place. More birds for the plucking. If only she could get out from Karl's thumb. What had started as an easy and comfortable arrangement had begun to be irksome to her. Her daughter was growing up soft. She'd had to drive her hard to get the sparrow's blood she needed for this potion, spending her morning making the stupid treat to coax Mabel. Greta stirred the pot, throwing more dogwood leaves into the mixture. "Ayche Ven Tiben" she muttered over and over. Soon. Soon she would be free from this cage. /p

"Karl and Mabel walked home, arriving just as Greta came out from her barn.

"Run on in and wash up," said Karl. "I'd like to have a word with your Mother."

Smiling, Mabel hurried into the small cottage. Greta tried to follow, but Karl grabbed her arm.

"Take your hand of me," hissed Greta.

Karl's eyes narrowed, and he pulled Greta back away from the door and around to the side of the house. Greta pulled her arm out of his grip.

"Greta, I know the things you've been making Mabel do." Greta's eyes flashed fire.

"No, and I won't have you laying a hand on her for telling me either. She told me very little, but I can guess the rest. Did you think I wouldn't notice the snarling faces she makes, or the way she trembles whenever I leave in the morning?"

"Greta looked Karl in the eyes. "She's mine. I've let you be her father, far longer than most of my sisters would have. But you're making her soft you foolish man. Do you not see the people gathering around. Do you not hear the things they already whisper about our family. They notice how little we come to the town. They gossip and whisper, and one day they'll see. What do you think will keep Mabel safe then? Mabel is my daughter. Any fool who sees her will know, and the only one who will be able to save her is Mabel herself. She isn't meant to be a sniveling wife, or a fancy ornament. She was born wilder than any animal in this forest, and she must be fiercer than them too."

With that Greta spun to head back into the house, but Karl called out after her.

"Greta!"

She turned slightly to look back at him. Karl looked in her eyes, searching for some of the warmth he missed, but eventually lowered his head sadly before looking up one more time. "I said I'd take care of you both and I meant it. We'll move further up the mountain. We'll be fine."

Greta scoffed, and went inside the door.

Mabel stepped away from the window before her mother stepped in, frowning. Dinner was quiet and uncomfortable. Mabel went to bed even earlier than usual, but she sat in bed thinking. Her parents didn't talk, but even at 10, Mabel understood plenty. She had realized at 4 that her face scared the animals. At 6 she'd caught a glance of herself and her mother in the water and realized they didn't look the same. She knew they didn't go to the village because of her. Mabel looked up from her bed out the window. She looked to the west. The new village had looked so beautiful. Mabel's brow furrowed for a moment as she thought, but then she sat up quickly. Silently, as silently as they had taught her, Mabel slipped on her shoes and skirt, buttoned her vest, wrapped her shawl around her, and slipped outside.