You decide you follow your grandma on one of her boat trips she takes to meet-up with old friends. So far you have meet King Arthur, Calypso and are on your way to say hi to Fenrir the wolf.
I sat in silence in the cabin below decks. My Grandmas boat rocked gently as we drifted. Apparently, that was the only way to reach the shores of Fenrir's lands. If you tried to approach them, the currents would guide you away, gently enough that you would never know that you had been led. You had to allow yourself to be taken there.
The rocking would have normally sent me to sleep. Some of my most treasured childhood memories were of my mother tucking me in, in this very cabin as I melted into sleep. I miss her. I know Nanna does too. I think that’s why I snuck aboard when Nanna went on one of her trips. I just wanted to fall asleep and be tucked in. But now, there was no chance of that. I was wide awake. Despite seeming like a dream the last few hours had been so shocking I doubted I would ever sleep again.
Figures of myth and legend knew my Nanna and counted her among their friends apparently. Some knew my mother. King Arthur even said he had met me before.
“You would have done well to remember me child”, he boomed. “You were but a slip, and I was dressed in the style your world now adopts. Disguised on pain of death, if I recall”, he finished with a conspirator wink at my Nanna.
And now we head for our last stop of the trip. The Fame-Wolf. Guardian of the Sea of Van. A giant monstrous wolf from the dawn of time, and the realm of the Gods.
“You feeling alright, kid?” called my Nanna down the steps, from the wheelhouse. “We are nearly here. You want to stay on the boat for this one?”
I stood with a sigh and joined her above decks. “No”, I said. “I’ve come this far, I might as well last the course. He’s not going to hurt me is he?”
“Fenny? No, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. At least not anymore. He’s had a real change of lifestyle in the last couple of hundred years. He’s vegan now I understand. Very modern. I don’t hold much truck with it myself.”
Over the salt spray smell of the surf, my mind's nose conjured up the smell of the stick to your ribs dinners my Nan was partial to making and eating. Gravy on every course.
Our course in this instance was meandering, but as that was the intention, I decided to enjoy it and watch the shoreline approaching as we were carried toward it on the waves.
“Fenny?”, I said.
“Yeah. You shouldn’t call him that. He hates it.”
The keel of the boat crunched on the sand of Fenrirs island. Smoke or mist hung over the gloomy forest just beyond the beach like a dustcover on mothballed furniture. I had the uneasy sensation that the island was waiting for us to step onshore.
“Come on”, said my Nan, hopping overboard with a spryness that clashed incongruously with her aged appearance, but seemed a lot more understandable now I’d met her friends. “Oh and if Fenny says anything about how we used to be together, ignore him. He’s just flirting with me. I’ve not much truck for that either.”
I followed her in silence, clambering over the side of the boat with a lot less grace than she had managed and splashing into the shallows, soaking my trainers.
“Oh for shit's sake”, I muttered as the cold water slowly seeped to my skin. I looked up just as the mist began to flow away from the treeline as if sucked from above. Nanna seemed to be waiting and made no effort to move into the trees. She gestured for me to join her.
“Come on love, he’ll be along in a minute. Don’t be scared.”
“I’m not scared”, I replied walking to her side. At that particular moment that was not a lie. But then Fenrir appeared. He strode from trees, knocking trunks to both sides as he emerged. 7 or 8 feet tall and a similar width it appeared, he walked on his hind legs, not on all fours as I expected. I took a step back and positioned myself slightly behind my still smiling Nanna.
Fenric dropped to all fours and began to run toward us. His teeth glistened, and his muscles powered him forward. I looked at Nanna. She didn’t react. As he reached us he jumped back onto two legs and roared. It sounded like the end of the world. I tried not to scream but I couldn’t help myself.
“Fenny!”, said Nanna. “Stop showing off! You’re scaring the poor girl.”
“Well if it isn’t the Little Red Riding Bitch!”, shouted Fenrir with a grin and roared with laughter. “You know I hate that name.”
“I’m not keen on the Little Red Riding B-word either, as well you know.”
Fenric peered around my Nanna at my cowering form. “Child, did you know that your Nanna and I are the roots of the Little Red Riding Hood story?”
“You ate my Nanna?”
He laughed again. “She wasn’t always this old. I’ve been pursuing her for a long time.”
Nanna pushed his snout back firmly. “Give her space. Are you OK?”, she asked me.
I struggled to my feet, wiping my runny nose and terror tears away. “You are Little Red Riding Hood?”, I asked finally.
“Well, it was more of a muddy colour actually. Red was pretty rare back then. Not like all the wonderful colours you kids get to wear. But yes, I was young once.”
“How long ago were you young?”, I asked carefully.
“Oh, I’d say this was the 13th century?”
“14th actually”, Fenrir interrupted. I wouldn’t have been chasing you in the 13th, I’m not a monster.”
“Well you did eat that old woman I was doing errands for just to try and get close to me”, Nanna replied. “Like I was ever going to get into her actual death bed with you.”
“She was already dead. I saved you from having to find her corpse. Quite romantic gesture actually.”
“Nanna”, I asked. “Who are you really?”
She looked at Fenrir, who shrugged his huge shoulders as if to say, not my business.
“Well, I did promise your mother that we would have a normal life. But I guess you’ve taken that option away a little bit with your sneaking about. Fenny, be a dear and put some tea on. I think my grand-daughter and I need a chat.“
