Greta Samson stepped off the train and stood on the platform looking around. There were few people around at this time in the morning and the train left just a few minutes later. She hiked up her backpack and walked to the exit where a taxi was parked. There was a man leaning against the hood smoking a pipe facing the warm morning sun.
"Excuse me, could you take me to Baumburg?"
The man turned and looked at her, and then he said, "Sure, it is about thirty minutes from here."
"Yes, I know, don't worry, I can pay."
"Let's go," he said and helped her put the backpack in the trunk.
Greta got in on the passenger side and fastened the seat belt, while the BWM slowly moved away.
The car moved through the town which was nestled in a valley about fifty miles from Frankfurt. The houses were small and it had a sleepy feeling to it. The few people she saw were elderly out walking with their dogs or by themselves. With the window open she smelt fresh bread baking somewhere and she realized she was hungry, but it had to wait.
"Are you American?"
"Yes, from New York."
"I went to Miami once, some years ago. It was too hot and humid."
"New York can be hot in the summer, but otherwise it's quite nice."
They left the town and drove through a forest with big leafed trees on either side of the country road. The forest was so dense she could only see a few yards on either side, and the sun didn't reach the floor.
"What are you doing here, are you on a vacation?"
"Yes and no, I am a student and I have taken a month off to travel in this part of Germany. I'm following the Grimm Brother's."
"Ah, the famous story tellers, lots of people come here to see this part of my country. Where have you been before coming here?"
"A flew into Frankfurt and then I went to Steinou to see where they grew up and from there to Kassel, the castles Tredelburg and Sababurg."
"Why do you want to go to Baumburg? It's just a small hamlet no more than a few houses and an old church."
"Red Riding Hood, that's why I want to see it."
The taxi driver chuckled. "There is no evidence that the story came from there, quite the opposite. If I'm not mistaken the story of Little Red Riding Hood, is French and the Grimm brothers just wrote their version of it."
Greta was surprised by the man's knowledge. "How do you know that?"
"I grew up here and as a child, my grandmother told me stories, not only from the Grimm's but others that few people know about. One of them is about a young girl, I guess in the story she is a teenager, who gets lost in the woods and is found by werewolves."
Greta dug through her backpack and took out a note pad and a pen. "Do you mind if I take some notes?"
"Of course not. Anyway, the story goes that the young woman met werewolves and one of them fell in love with her. While her family and friends combed the woods trying to find her, she lived in a cave where she bore the werewolves children."
"C'mon, werewolves can't have kids. What would they be, children or puppies? You become a werewolf when you are bitten or scratched by one, not by birth."
The driver glanced at her in the review mirror. "I do not know about that, all I can tell you is what happened in the story."
"OK, go on."
"She grew up and each year she would have four puppies or babies with the werewolf and the family grew bigger. This meant that they needed more food, so they killed more people."
"Werewolves don't kill people for food."
"Young lady, I am just telling the story."
"Sorry, please go on."
"As the years passed and more and more people from the nearby hamlets and towns disappeared there was a demand to find the werewolves and kill them."
"Did they?"
"Yes, a hunter was called in and he together with ten brave men found the cave where the werewolf clan was hiding, there were at least forty of them as the story goes. The hunter and his men waited and when they were sure all of them were inside the cave they used fire and gunpowder to blow it up. The cave came down and berried everyone inside."
Greta wrote a few notes. "What does this have to do with Riding Hood?"
"There is a legend around here that some of the werewolves didn't die in the cave, and that they roam the forest looking for a young girl to have their puppies. The young girl in the story has a red cap, and the part where the wolf is dressed as her grandmother is actually one of the wolves in human form."
"That would make here a female werewolf. She should be able to have her own puppies, and then there would be no need for a human."
"True, but she is very old and bare."
"Ah, I see."
"Look, there it is," says the driver and points.
The car was on top of a hill and as it turned down the other side, Greta saw the hamlet bathing in sunlight. It looked like a toy town, it was so small. It was surrounded by forest, in many different shades of green. Pine trees and leaf trees mix at the lower levels, but further up the hills there were only pines.