Chapin City Blues

Writing is writing whether done for duty, profit, or fun.

I present to you my modern retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. It was written in less than two hours for work and recorded last week. There was no time to revise or edit the piece. I may revisit the story in the future and polish it a bit for a repost, but I make no promises. Please enjoy.

Once upon a time – just the other week – Rosita’s mother asked her to take a basket of goodies to her ailing abuela who lived on the other side of town. Because the weather was chilly, Rosita grabbed her favorite red hoodie sweater and set off. But before she can take one step out the front door, her mother asked, “Rosita, did you remember to take your cell phone?”

“Yes, mamá.”

“And what path are you taking to get there?”

“The path that runs straight through the park.”

“And what path are you going to avoid?”

“The path that runs through the woods.”

“Ok, be back before dinner. And please don’t spoil your appetite at abuela’s.”

“Yes, mamá.”

And off she went. When she reached the fork in the path, she had a decision to make. The path through the woods was quicker than that of the park. It was also more scenic. And she loved the smell of the flowers that blossomed in the autumn.

“I know mama warned me not to go into the woods alone, but this way I’ll get to spend more time with abuela.”

The choice was made. Rosita continued on into the woods.

It wasn’t long until she heard the thwack-thwack-thwacking of wood being chopped.

“Hello there,” a woodcutter said. “What are you doing here alone? Don’t you know that there are wolves lurking about?”

“I’m going straight to my abuela’s house to drop off this basket.”

“Seems simple enough,” the woodcutter said, “but should you encounter a wolf, don’t hesitate to call me.” And he passed along his business card.

Rosita pocketed the card and continued on. But the woodcutter was right. There were wolves lurking about and one happened to jump out of the bushes in front of her.

“Why hello there,” the wolf said. “The name’s Leonard D. Lobo and I must say that’s a mighty fine basket you have there. Mind if I take a peek at it?”

“It’s food and medicine for my abuela,” Rosita said.

“Hmm…” the wolf whispered. “How about I carry it for you?”

“It’s not heavy,” Rosita replied.

The wolf needed to get the basket from the girl, but he didn’t know how. And with a snap! It came to him.

“How about you go into the flower patch over yonder and pick some fresh flowers for your abuela? I’m sure she’ll love the idea.”

Rosita agreed, but held onto her basket. When he was sure she was out of earshot, the wolf whispered his plan to himself, “I’ll beat her to the house. Take grandma’s place in the bed and when this little red hoodie girl comes in with the basket, I’ll snatch it from her.”

It was a plan. But it wasn’t really a good plan, because little Rosita had one of her own. She knew the wolf’s game and she was ready to one up him. She patted her pockets for her phone.

Wolf did what he had set off to do. He put grandma in the closet and took her place in the bed. He’d just settled in when there came three strong knocks from the front door.

“Come in,” he said in his best grandmotherly voice.

In strode in a looming figure. Rosita was much taller than he had remembered.

“My you’ve gotten big,” the wolf gulped.

“It’s from eating right and exercising,” Rosita said as she took a step closer.

“And what big arms you have,” the wolf said.

“The better to grab you with,” said Rosita.

“And what…wait…did you say grab?”

And with that, the woodcutter lunged at the wolf, scaring the conniving canine out of the bed and out the window with the sounds of laughter trailing behind him.

Rosita and the woodcutter helped abuela out of the closet and settled her back into bed. And they all enjoyed the goodies packed within the basket.

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