The Wolf had planned everything.
He knew which path Red would take through the forest. He knew she carried a basket of pastries. And he knew her grandmother’s cottage stood far enough from the village that nobody would interrupt him.
Then Calypso Nyx appeared beside the gate.
One moment, the path was empty. The next, a woman in a fitted black dress stood there, her long black hair moving gently in the breeze.
The Wolf stopped behind a rosebush.
“Where did you come from?”
Calypso looked over her shoulder.
“Somewhere less interesting.”
She glanced at the cottage, then at the patch of gray fur sticking through the leaves.
“Are you hiding?”
“No.”
“You’ve chosen a very small bush for someone who isn’t hiding.”
The Wolf stepped onto the path.
Farther down the hill, a red cloak moved between the trees.
He lowered his voice.
“Listen carefully. A young woman is coming here. I need to get inside before she does.”
Calypso studied him.
“Why?”
“That is my business.”
“Then why are you explaining it to me?”
The Wolf’s ears flattened.
“Because I need you to leave.”
Calypso looked toward the approaching red cloak. Then she looked at the cottage again.
“What happens inside?”
The Wolf hesitated. That was his first mistake.
“I put on the old woman’s clothes. I get into her bed. The girl comes in and thinks I’m her grandmother.”
Calypso stared at him.
Then she smiled.
“With that face?”
“It works.”
“Has it worked before?”
“It will work.”
She walked past him toward the cottage.
The Wolf hurried after her.
“Don’t ruin my plan.”
Calypso reached for the door handle.
“I think it needs better casting.”
Grandmother was sitting in an armchair when they entered.
A sewing basket rested on her lap. She looked up at Calypso, then at the Wolf standing behind her.
“No,” she said.
Calypso paused.
“We haven’t asked anything yet.”
“I’ve lived long enough to recognize a bad idea before it introduces itself.”
The Wolf glanced toward the window. Red was getting closer.
“Perhaps you could go outside for a moment.”
“This is my house.”
Calypso noticed a floral bonnet hanging beside the bed.
She lifted it from its hook and turned toward the Wolf.
“Put this on.”
Grandmother lowered her sewing.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“An experiment.”
“With my nightclothes?”
Calypso placed the bonnet between the Wolf’s ears.
It was too small. One ribbon hung across his nose.
She took a step back, considering the result.
“Yes. That’s much worse.”
The Wolf pulled the ribbon away from his mouth.
“You’re wasting time.”
A knock sounded at the door.
Grandmother began to rise, but Calypso caught her attention with a raised finger.
“One minute. I want to see whether she believes him.”
Grandmother looked at the Wolf’s enormous paws, then at the bonnet.
A faint, disapproving smile touched her mouth.
She took her sewing basket behind the folding screen.
Calypso pointed toward the bed.
The Wolf climbed beneath the blanket.
“And what are you doing?” he whispered.
Calypso crouched beside the bed.
“I’ll play the wolf.”
“You can’t play the wolf. I’m the wolf.”
“You’re Grandmother now. Keep up.”
Red opened the door with her basket over one arm.
“Grandma?”
“Come closer, dear,” the Wolf said.
His voice sounded like gravel being dragged across a floor.
Red stopped.
Calypso watched her expression with intense interest.
“Have you caught a cold?” Red asked.
“A terrible one.”
Red approached the bed slowly.
The bonnet had slipped sideways. A gray ear protruded from beneath it.
“Grandma,” she said, “what big ears you have.”
“The better to hear you with.”
Calypso’s eyes brightened.
Red took another step.
“And what big eyes you have.”
“The better to see you with.”
The Wolf smiled.
Red stared at the teeth.
“What big teeth you have.”
Calypso leaned forward.
“Ask about her tail.”
Silence filled the room.
Red looked down.
A thick gray tail hung over the edge of the mattress.
The Wolf tried to pull it beneath the blanket.
Calypso laughed.
“Too late.”
The folding screen moved.
Grandmother stepped out, carrying her sewing basket.
“And ask why that animal is in my bed.”
Red recoiled.
The Wolf threw off the blanket.
“You said she was out!” he shouted at Calypso.
Calypso tilted her head.
“You never asked.”
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Grandmother set down her basket and picked up the broom beside the fireplace.
The Wolf backed toward the door.
“There has been a misunderstanding.”
“There certainly has,” Grandmother said. “You misunderstood who owns this cottage.”
Red gripped her basket with both hands.
“Were you pretending to be her?”
The Wolf looked from Red to Grandmother.
Then he pointed at Calypso.
“She arranged this.”
Calypso had already lifted the cloth covering Red’s pastries.
“He brought the idea,” she said. “I brought the bonnet.”
She selected a small cherry turnover.
Red stared at her.
“You knew the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“And you let me walk in?”
“I wanted to see how far you’d get.”
Grandmother advanced with the broom.
The Wolf slipped through the doorway, leaving the bonnet behind.
Red hurried after him, shouting that she would tell everyone in the village.
Calypso took a bite of the turnover.
It was still warm.
That interested her more than the argument.
She stepped outside while Grandmother called after the Wolf from the threshold.
At the gate, Calypso paused.
“You should shorten the questions next time,” she told Red.
Red turned.
“There won’t be a next time.”
Calypso smiled.
“People say that.”
Then she walked down the forest path, eating the pastry.
Behind her, the Wolf insisted that the woman in black had sabotaged him. Red demanded to know why Grandmother had hidden behind the screen. Grandmother wanted someone to wash her blankets.
Calypso heard all three voices fade among the trees.
She had enjoyed the performance.
But somewhere beyond the hill, music was playing—and she wanted to know who was dancing.
