I found this while looking through my Google drive at some half-finished stories. I wrote it a while ago, and put it aside with the intention of drawing some illustrations to go with it. Perhaps I still will sometime, but, since I haven't drawn any yet, I figured I should just post it as it is.
At the time, I did send it to my parents and my mother seemed to like it a lot. I think she thought it was about her, but I'm not quite convinced myself.
Once upon a time there was a grandmother.
She was a ferocious and brave grandmother, in the way that grandmothers can be.
When she stood straight it was as if she had a steel rod in her spine. When she walked it was with big, purposeful strides. (She walked with a cane, but it was mostly for effect since she didn’t need it for balance.) She had a way of looking at people over the top of her half-moon spectacles that could make even a grown man’s knees turn to strawberry jello.
The grandmother lived next to a forest, and her granddaughter lived on the other side. It was a Dark and Dangerous Forest. There were many Wild Animals: tigers and crocodiles and rodents-of-unusual-size. The last time her granddaughter had visited she had met a wolf, who had caused endless problems. But, of course, grandmothers do not know the meaning of the word fear…
One spring morning the grandmother decided it was time to visit her granddaughter. She packed her purse with a ball of yarn, two knitting needles, a box of peppermints, a handkerchief, a thermos of tea and a packet of digestive biscuits. She checked that the stove was turned off, put out food for her cat, picked up her cane, locked the door of her small, cozy cottage, and set off into the Dark and Dangerous Forest.
It was a cool morning, in early spring. The grandmother had not bought a shawl and was feeling the morning chill. After walking a little while, she sat down on a log, took out her needles and yarn and started knitting. Fifteen minutes later she stood up to assess her work, gave a curt nod of approval, and, wrapping a new, pink, fluffy shawl around her shoulders she continued on her way.
At the edge of the forest two tigers lay in the sun. The first flared her nostrils. “I smell something coming,” she said.
The second tiger jumped to the top of a rock and looked out. “It’s a strange animal walking on its hind legs,” she said. “It looks tasty,” she added.
The two tigers crept silently towards the grandmother, invisible in the tall grass that grew along the edge of the forest. The smaller tiger circled round behind her to block her escape. Then the tigers emerged, their lips curling back to reveal their enormous, razor sharp teeth, their sinews tightening as they crouched back on their hind legs, ready to pounce.
“Yes?” said the grandmother, “What can I do for you?”
“You can prepare to be EATEN!” said the larger tiger with a blood curdling snarl.
The grandmother looked sharply at the tiger over the top of the spectacles perched on the tip of her nose. “That,” she said, “is NOT a polite way to talk to an old lady.”
“Oh,” said the tiger, feeling rather confused. “...um ...I mean, er, would it be ok if we ate you, please?”
“Certainly not!” said the grandmother. “I didn’t go through all this trouble just to become kibble for a pair of overgrown cats with teddy-bear ears. The very idea!”
“Oh, um, well…,” the first tiger trailed off and turned its head away, no longer able to meet her gaze.
“And you,” said the grandmother, turning her withering look on the second tiger, “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Oh, well…, um..., it’s just that we were terribly hungry you see,” she said lamely, and looked away.
“Yes,” added the first tiger, “all we’ve eaten since breakfast were two bison and an antelope, and... well... we just thought,...” Her voice trailed off.
“I see,” said the grandmother. “You may have one peppermint each, but that’s all.”
“Oh, thank you very much,” said the two tigers together.
The grandmother pulled the tin of peppermints out of her bag, and handed one to each of the tigers. The tigers quickly left for the forest, to warn the other creatures of the strange and frightening animal that was its way.
As she continued on her way, the grandmother heard murmurs in the forest around her. A pair of big-eyed lemurs peaked out from the high branches above, and whispered to one another that this was the strange creature that had frightened the terrible tigers. A snake hissed and slithered further up its tree for safety. Some monkeys put an offering of bananas on the ground ahead of her, to try make sure they were in her good graces, and swung away quickly as she approached.
The grandmother stopped and sat on a low rock to drink some tea.
A wide, muddy river ran along the far side of the forest. The river was home to large crocodiles with evil smiles who spent their days lying in the water pretending to be logs, and to logs that spent their days lying in the water pretending to be crocodiles. The crocodiles took little interest in the forest creatures, other than wondering about their nutritional value, and did not listen to their chatter.
When the grandmother reached the bank of the river she looked upstream and downstream. There was no safe place to cross. “Hmmph,” she thought. “I shall need a bridge. I’m certainly not going to spoil a pair of perfectly good shoes and socks wading through this.”
She noticed that the log nearest the bank had an unblinking yellow eye watching her. “You,” she said, nudging the log with her stick. “Time to make yourself useful.”
“Yeess?” said the crocodile, raising its head from the water and revealing its mouth full of jagged, ugly-looking teeth. “How may I be of ssservice?”
Two more crocodiles swam up, and looked her up and down, showing their ghastly smiles. “I wonder what this isss,” said one of them. “Not much meat on it,” said the other. “But ssoo sssuuculent,” said the first.
“That’s quite enough of that!” said the grandmother, giving each of the crocodiles a sharp wrap on the nose with her cane. “I’ve no intention of being eaten by you or anyone else today. Is that clear?”
“Yess ma’am. Ssorry ma’am,” the three crocodiles muttered, their smiles fading, and being replaced by more glum expressions.
“Now you,” she said, pointing to the first crocodile, “swim over there with your nose to that bank.”
“You,” she said, pointing to the second, “in the middle, with your nose to his tail.”
“And you,” she said to the third, “turn around with your tail pointing this way. Quick about it! I haven’t got all day.”
“Yess ma’am,” said the crocodiles, and, grumbling to one another, they lined themselves up, nose-to-tail across the river. The grandmother stepped onto the tail of the nearest crocodile, and nimbly trotted along their backs, while the crocodiles were still trying to think what to do.
“Now,” she said, turning back to look at her makeshift bridge, “thank you for your assistance.” She gave each of the crocodiles a digestive biscuit. “And we’ll have no more of this talk about eating little old ladies,” she added. “Understood?”
“No ma’am,” said the crocodiles sullenly, and they swam away munching their biscuits.
It was almost lunch time when the grandmother reached the cottage where her granddaughter lived, and knocked on the door.
Her granddaughter had just finished packing a basket with food, and was putting on her favorite red cape and hood, when she opened the door. “Oh Grandma,” she said, giving her a warm hug, “I was just coming to visit you.”
“I know dear,” said the grandmother, “But it was such a nice day, and I didn’t want to put you through any trouble. Besides, I do need the exercise.” She looked at the basket. “Oh good,” she said, “I’m just in time for a picnic.”
