Hilda - Snow White revisited (11 page)

"Keep this twig and break it in two if you need
me. I'll do my best to come to you as quickly as I can."

Walt took the small bit of wood and stuck it in
the hidden pocket of his royal red robe, next to the small flask of
potent wine he always carried for medicinal purposes. "I will give
all of this a lot of thought, Grimhilda," he then said. "You do put
me in a difficult position, you understand... If this all is true,
I should have my wife executed or something nasty like that. But
when all of this is false..." He did not finish his sentence, but
cast a glance at the witch. He hoped it would say enough.

Hilda wasn't impressed. "Go and do what you feel
is best, Walt. I have to run now, as there are things cooking on
other stoves also. I hope you come to your senses. Talk to your
queen and try to find out what she is, and what she's upto." She
looked around and cursed. "I should not leave my broom invisible
and in a strange place."

The witch held out her hand and said something
in Latin. "I hate Latin. Broom, come here." Seconds later, she felt
her broom arrive in her hand. She made it visible, got on it and
greeted Walt. "I'll hear from you." Then she swooped up into the
skies, leaving Walt with his thoughts.

As this powwow between Hilda and Walt was going
on, the mean queen was soaking in her second bath. It was
incredible how deep the coal dust had found its way into her skin,
it had been everywhere and after the first plunge she had still
found black marks.

"We'll see how things are now," she chuckled to
herself as she slapped at one of the royal rubber ducks that
floated around her. Royal rubber ducks had small golden crowns on
their head. The ducks had been her plotting companions very often,
so it was a good thing they were made of rubber. And more
importantly, that they could keep secrets.

After the bath, she had decided, she'd go to her
talking mirror again and ask it the question that mattered. And
this time it'd better give the right answer!

Hilda was on her way home. Her head was spinning
with things to arrange and consider. There were the dwarfs who had
to get thing in order, stuff for the meeting on Scary Mountain, the
queen had to be kept under surveillance, the king had to make up
his mind. As she approached her house, there was a rather
disturbing sight. Usually there was nobody in their right mind who
would make themselves comftorable almost on the doorstep of her
home. And that unimaginable thing was happening right there and
then.

A group of three people sat on the ground, near
a large wagon. In front of the wagon were two horses, usually busy
pulling the wagon, now shortening the few bits of grass that were
in the soil. The two men were dressed in black costumes and white
shirts. One of them even wore a high round hat with a rim around
it. The woman was wearing some kind of gypsy outfit, consisting of
such a multitude of colours that the person assembling the clothes
must have gone stark raving mad.

Hilda lowered the broom and hovered near the
group of three. "What's this?"

"Ah, my lady," one of the two men said as he got
up. The other man and the woman held their seats and just looked at
Hilda. "I assume you are the local witch?"

"You assume partly correct." Hilda slowly got
off her broom and made it rest against her house. "So what's this?"
Her hands on her hips she waited, intending to make this mini
circus short.

The man took off his hat and made a deep bow.
"My lady witch, allow me to introduce you to me. My fame spreads
out throughout many a kingdom, and you have probably heard of me
and my companions. On the road since many years as we are-"

"Yeah, stop, I don't have time for that. Name,
business and then scram, okay?"

The man with the hat was visibly shaken by her
harsh interruption. "Uhm, certainly. I am Ribaldo, and these people
are Ronaldo and Regina. We make brooms."

"And that's all? Good luck with it and now go,
okay?" Hilda started walking past Ribaldo, keen on getting into the
house and attend to her own business.

"My lady witch, if you allow me...", Ribaldo
said, not easily thrown off. Years of experience in dealing with
even the most reluctant customers had made him an excellent
businessman. He only moved slightly, not really getting in the way
of Hilda as she walked up, but just enough for her to take notice
of him being there. Ribaldo knew that this was a fantastic
move.

Hilda was not used to people being this
annoying. She stopped in front of Ribaldo, her nose almost against
his. "Look buster, I gave you some of my time, okay? I suggest
you'd better step aside and get away as long as you are still able
to. I have things to do, as I am sure you have. And I bet you that
these things have nothing in common."

The wicked witch wanted to walk around Ribaldo,
who then made the biggest mistake in his life. His arm held out to
prevent Hilda from walking on, he said: "Dear lady witch, wouldn't
you have a look at our brooms? I told you we make brooms-"

Hilda held up her hand, and the wand appeared.
Ribaldo stared at it, his words frozen in his throat.

"Ribaldo. I told you I am not interested. You
are bugging me. But you have convinced me... the things I have to
do right now have something in common with the things you do."

Ribaldo's face lit up, as he felt a good
transaction coming up. "Wonderful-", he started, when Hilda
interrupted him.

"Did you know that I make brooms also?", the
wicked witched asked him.

Ribaldo looked a bit surprised, hardly noticing
the wand that was moving.

"Oh yes. And my brooms obey." Hilda pointed her
wand to her own broom and said: "Scopae percussus actor."

"How cute," was what Ribaldo managed to say,
before the broom lifted off and raced towards him. The flying
magical broom started pounding Ribaldo in every spot it could
reach. There was hardly a spot it could not get to. The broom
salesman made a few futile attempts to ward off the rain of whacks
the broom delivered, then tried to run away from his wooden
punisher. The broom was not giving up just like that and kept
banging on Ribaldo's body, no matter where the man in black tried
to escape to. As Hilda had said, her brooms obeyed.

Ronaldo and Regina had gotten to their feet and
tried to get close enough to the raging broom to grab it and force
it to the ground, but the stick was moving so rapidly that they did
not stand a chance. An icicle in hell would beat its odds. They had
to stand back, or they'd be slapped black and blue as well.

Hilda looked at the scene, shaking her head.
"Accio scopae." The broom stopped beating Ribaldo and took position
next to the witch.

"Had enough?", Hilda asked. Her face showed that
she had gotten beyond that point already, long ago.

Regina turned to Hilda. "What the hell was that
for?", she yelled as she came walking up to Hilda, anger and murder
in her eyes.

"He was in my way. I told him not to do so, and
he didn't listen." Hilda kept her cool, but her eyebrows lowered
themselves into battle-formation as Regina grabbed the wicked witch
by the arms.

"Let go of me," said Hilda, emphasising each
word with icy undertones.

"Apologise to my man first,"Regina demanded. She
did not know Hilda, but that was only a matter of time. Little of
that also.

"Scopaeros in diliculum," Hilda simply said, and
a broom dressed in very colourful clothes fell to the ground, much
to the surprise and shock of Ribaldo and Ronaldo.

"Regina!", cried the former as he charged
forward and fell to his knees, hugging the broom. "Where is she?",
he then howled at Hilda, "I want Regina back!"

"Hey, I wanted you to go away, and did you care
to listen?", Hilda retaliated. She turned towards her house and
walked to the front door, her flying broom floating after her like
a pet. Before she went inside, she turned to Ribaldo. "See, I told
you I make brooms also."

The door closed quietly as she disappeared from
view. Regina would remain a broom only until the break of the new
day.

Hilda leaned against the door, her head against
the comforting wood. "Why do I always get the nutcases...," she
sighed. Then she took the broom and put it in its place.

The two men were packing up their belongings,
Ribaldo taking extra care in placing Regina among the other brooms
and folding her clothes nicely, and then they headed out of the
vicinity of the witch's house as fast as the horses were able to
pull the wagon!

The wicked witch positioned herself in front of
the magical mirror after fixing a cup of tea. "Let's see what the
little guys are upto..."

As she saw that they were indeed keeping up
their part of the plan, she nodded, satisfied. "Good boys." She
then turned her attention to the remaining preparations for the
meeting on Scary Mountain. Babs and she were really going to steal
the show, she was convinced of that.

Two of the dwarfs, Happy amd Bashful, were on
their way to the village. It would take them a while to get there,
as they were too proud to ask for a lift, and their legs were quite
short. They persisted though, and towards the evening they reached
their destination. Happy had proposed that they would take a bit of
a detour, since he was not very eager to pass the house of the
witch.

"It talks to me," he had explained to Bashful,
who had blushed.

"Houses don't talk, Happy," the timid dwarf had
replied, pointing his gaze to the ground.

"This one does, believe me. It is the house of a
witch, and that's the difference." Happy nodded as they walked
along.

The two small men came to the house of Johan the
mirror-maker and Happy knocked on the door.

Johan opened the door and stared into the
falling darkness. "Who's there?"

"Hey, down here," said Happy as he was waving
for attention of the tall human.

Johan smiled as he kneeled down. "Well, hello
there little men. Why are you here on this late hour, so far from
your land over the hills?"

"Oh, some dinner and a beer would be most
welcome," Happy grinned. Bashful heard that, turned red again and
tried to hide behind his partner's back. "But actually we are here
for with sad request."

Johan frowned. "A sad request? Do come in,
little friends, it is not proper to leave you waiting outside my
door. My wife will certainly be able to prepare dinner for you, and
there is some good ale in my cupboard."

Happy and Bashful entered the home and were
guided into the living room where Johan introduced them to his
wife. The woman, Katrina, was thrilled by the small visitors and
did not lose time in making a nice meal for the two small hungry
men.

As she was working in the kitchen, Johan lifted
the two upon chairs and then he was interested to hear what sad
request they had.

"A good friend of ours has died," Bashful said,
"and we want her to be buried in the most wonderful way. That is
why we want you to make a glass coffin."

Johan was silent for a moment. "A glass
coffin... I have never made something like that, I have to admit.
It must be someone very special that you want to bury like
that."

Both the dwarfs nodded, Bashful letting out a
soft sigh as his gaze went fuzzy for a few moments as memories
raced by him. Then Katrina broke the spell, as she put down plates
with food and glasses with beer.

The dwarfs started eating, as Johan began
drawing a coffin, scribbling down sizes, glass thickness, started
thinking about the way he should glue and tie the whole thing
together. By the time he was almost finished with his draft
designs, the two dwarfs were rather tipsy as the glasses with beer
were quite a bit larger than they were used to.

Johan and Katrina laughed as the two started
dancing through the room, stumbling over their own feet. Even
Bashful, who usually was the quiet type, was quite expressive for a
while. The end of course came when the two dwarfs tumbled to the
ground and did not get up as alcohol-induced sleep took over.

The mirror-maker was grateful that they had a
spare bedroom, so he and his wife put the two snoring visitors in
the bed and closed the door.

As the morning had come, the mean queen stood in
front of her talking mirror. "Tell me again!", she said with a
tremendous smile on her face.

"Okay...," the mirror said. If it had been able
to, it would have let out a sigh. "Oh, queen, in this land thou art
fairest of all."

"Yes!!!", the queen moaned, and pressed another
sloppy kiss on the mirror. "I am the most beautiful one again! Down
with the competition, I have to remain the fairest..."

She picked up her dress from the bed, held it
against her and waltzed with it through her chambers, humming her
favourite tunes for a while. Until she reached the wall with the
mirror again. "Mirror? Care to tell me who's the fairest in the
land? Oh, life is good again."

As the mirror in the castle was getting close to
despair, Hilda was gathering her things for the evening. Scary
Mountain was up tonight and it all was prepared.

"Babs, are you going in style?", she asked the
crystal ball that showed Baba Yaga's hut and the witch that lived
there.

"No, Hilly, I want to keep things nice and
quiet. Let the action speak instead of the clothes," Baba Yaga
replied, "but feel free to make a grand entrance if you care for
one. You're more for that kind of thing and I have to admit that
the glitzy stuff looks awesome on you."

"Why thank you, girlfriend," Hilda giggled as
she looked in her wardrobe. She pulled out a dress and held it in
front of her. "How about this one?"

The dress was quite a slinky one, all subdued
silver that looked like sparkling lead, with black stars all over
it.