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For now.
Soon, though, Snow White would move on. Because she was so happy and she made the seven dwarves so happy. She needed to spread that happiness to the next village, and the next! But even that would not be enough. She would only truly be happy when every single person in the kingdom—and then the world—knew and loved her.
She licked her bloodred lips. Oh, yes. Everyone would love her. Don’t you love her? Yes, you do. Look deep into those bottomless black eyes. Snow White will make everyone love her, and when they love her, they’ll all be happy! Thank you, Snow White, for being so generous!
Her mesmerizing voice had called the seven dwarves back. She smiled, showing each tiny, sharp tooth. “Good afternoon,” she trilled happily. “How are my favorite dwarves?”
The first dwarf took off his hood. He was ashen and pale, with dark circles under his eyes. “Actually,” he said, his voice gravelly and tortured, “we’re not dwarves. Remember? We’re just very hirsute children.” (Hirsute is a fun word! It means covered with excessive hair. An easy way to remember is that if you look like you are wearing a hair suit, you are very hirsute. There’s nothing wrong with being hirsute. It makes you softer and warmer than everyone else. Unfortunately for these seven boys, it also made Snow White confuse them for dwarves.)
Snow White hummed, nodding. “Yes, yes, of course, my little dwarves. Now come in! It’s time to eat!”
That’s odd. There was nothing on the table or the stove. No delicious scents of food filled the air. Snow White tied a cloth napkin around her neck and smiled as the hirsute boys filed in one by one. Then she licked her lips again, and closed the door.
Not too far from where we left the sounds of Snow White gleefully slurping her dinner, the queen found something troubling.
This was not the queen who was currently sitting on the burned rubble heap of her former castle. That queen would no sooner go searching in the darkest part of the forest than she would brush her own teeth without a servant’s help. Which was why she also had a serious toothache.
No, this queen was the queen who had married the king, who had been married to the queen, who had died, who had then died himself, but not before marrying this queen. (Royal marriage is complicated.) This was the queen who had sent the huntsman into the forest with Snow White. The queen who had tried to end Snow White’s precious little life once Snow White became the fairest in all the land.
That queen. (She looks very familiar! She and the stepmother could be the same person. WAIT. Oh, no wonder she’s so exhausted!)
She sighed as she picked up the empty sack Snow White had been in. This was not the middle of a sunny meadow. She looked around. I held my breath, waiting for her to find the huntsman where we had seen him lying motionless.
But there was nothing there. Whew! That was a relief.
“Hello,” the huntsman said from behind her.
“Aaaaaugh!” I screamed.
Fortunately, the queen was more used to terrifying things than I am. She was, after all, the stepmother of Snow White among many others. She calmly turned around. The huntsman loomed in the shadows beneath a tree. His eyes seemed to shine almost red in the midst of his unnaturally pale face. Two red dots on the side of his neck matched his eyes.
“There you are,” said the queen. “I take it you did not follow my instructions.”
“I’m thirsty,” said the huntsman. He ran his tongue along his teeth as he stared at the queen’s long, graceful throat.
“Of course you are.” The queen smiled. “Where is Snow White?”
“She said I’m not supposed to tell you.”
“Of course not. You absolutely shouldn’t tell me that she went back to the castle and is living in the village.”
The huntsman frowned. “No, I’m not supposed to tell you that she’s in the darkest part of the woods, living in a cottage with seven hirsute children.”
“Right,” the queen said. “Of course. Is there anything else you weren’t supposed to do?”
The huntsman frowned, scratching his chin with his dirty fingernails. “I wasn’t supposed to give you any warning before I bit you?” His face fell. “I messed it up, didn’t I? She was so specific! And I don’t want to disappoint her. Beautiful Snow White. Good Snow White. Sweet Snow White.”
“Don’t worry! We don’t have to tell her. I have an idea. I’ll go stand in the middle of that meadow—the sunny one you were supposed to leave her in—and you can sneak up behind me there. That way you’ll be doing exactly what she told you to do.”
The huntsman smiled, showing his newly pointed teeth. “Gee, you’d do that for me?”
“It’s the least I can do to repay you for all your work.” The queen stalked back through the trees to the meadow. She stood in the middle. The brilliant sunshine was like a blanket around her. Then, after hearing a surprised shriek and poof sound, the queen turned around. She lifted her skirts and stepped over the huntsman-size pile of ash on the edge of the meadow.
Out of her bag, she pulled a cloak and some makeup. She drew lines on her face and attached a false nose. She drank lemon juice so her voice was tight and scratchy. If you hadn’t seen her do it, you would never have known that beneath that hooded cloak and weird makeup was the queen herself.
Leaning heavily on a long, sturdy stick, she slowly hobbled through the trees. “Apples!” she called. “Apples for sale!”
Deep in the darkest part of the forest, she found one of the poor little hirsute boys leaning against a tree. His eyes were dull, his lips pale. He was not yet fairer than she was, though. “Hello, little boy,” she said.
