Once upon a time there lived in a certain small town a sweet girl of eighteen. She was well liked in the community, and because of her shoulder-length red hair everyone called her 'Red.'
This girl had an affliction of an unfortunate sort, for Red was deeply sheltered. Her single mother was quite theologically ingrained, and monitored Red the entirety of her life. It was a consequence of the mother having known too many trickster men, and thus mother deflected the ensuing pain onto daughter. She would give Red the same stern warning, which had been repeated so frequently and so often that Red knew it as well as a popular song or poem:
"You should never talk to strange boys, for you may find them to be hungry wolves. Wolves can be charming, quiet, unassuming, complacent and sweet. They will pursue you at home and in the streets. The gentle wolves are the most dangerous of all."
Though Red believed her mother was overreacting, she nevertheless feared and watched for these types.
One day, her mother, having baked a cake and bought some wine, said to Red, "deliver this basket to Pastor Franklin down the street. It's my thanks for his contributions to the Purity Ball. Behave yourself on the way. Don't forget to say 'good morning' and don't be nosy. And don't leave the street! You go straight there and straight back. I'll be watching the clock."
"No problem," Red shrugged.
Red walked the street, well-aware her mother was frequently parting the curtains. Red was halfway to Pastor Franklin's townhouse when her peripheral vision caught a curious sight. Instead of the familiar strip mall that contained the dying video store, the local discount tobacco, and the Christian book trader, there was instead an unfamiliar line of trees bathed in a thick fog.
The new change in Red's everyday environment intrigued her. She tried to wave it off, continuing down the street toward Pastor Franklin's, but it was as if this forest was calling her, begging her to peek.
"Oh, what's one quick look?" Red asked herself.
Any minute now, she thought, her cellphone would bellow with angry text messages. As Red grew closer to the woods she heard no such alerts. Perhaps her mother was distracted; that pot of butter she'd picked up at the store was said to have dire consequences on the digestive tract.
Red found an oval opening in the trees. A path stretched into the forest as if a way had been cleared for her. Red, captivated by what lay beyond, wandered further in. When the path broke, she drifted right. When it broke again, she took another right, and then a left. Beauty had always captured Red's attention, and this forest was beauty personified. The towering trees were topped with lush greenery, their bases accented with shrubs. The grayness of that Saturday morn soon cleared; sunlight brought out the forest's true splendor.
Left, left, right, left, up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right...so mesmorized was Red that she became absent-minded, and when she remembered her mother, the basket, and Pastor Franklin, Red realized she had gone too far. Further introspection told her she was lost.
Red became frightened. The forest was a maze with no escape. She tried to remember landmark. Right, right, left, right, down, down, up, up, left, right, left...all sense of wonder had been replaced by a terrible fear. Red restrained hot tears.
"Stupid, stupid girl!" she scolded herself.
To make matters worse, Red's phone bore an indicator of 'NO SERVICE.' She wouldn't be able to call anyone, even her mother, the last person to whom Red wanted to reach out.
Tears and the sobs crashed through. Red fell against a tree trunk and slid into a weeping ball.
A voice, deep and booming, captured her attention.
"
Got you
, you sly devil," it roared.
Red came face to face with a man. He was quite tall and built of pure muscle. A bushy crimson beard, darker in tone than Red's hair, hung to his chest, and upon his back was strapped the largest ax she'd ever seen.
The sudden appearance frightened Red once more, as the man recalled her mother's old warning. Was he one of those boys? Was he a 'wolf?' He seemed innocent enough.
"Are you alright, miss?" he asked gently.
Wolves can be charming, quiet, assuming, complacent and sweet.
"I'm fine."
She hoped her response would have the man leaving her be. Instead he moved closer. Red was preparing to flee when the man knelt.
"A stranger to this land, shedding such distraught tears? I would think the opposite, miss," he said in a concerned tone. "If such is the case, I can be of assistance."
Red sniffled. "I'm lost."
The man nodded. "I assumed so. Such is the plight of all strangers who enter Sadia's realm."
"Sadia? I, I want to go home," Red sobbed. "I didn't mean to wander this far."
"Pardon my bluntness, miss, but when outsiders enter here the door closes and locks behind them. You could search the forest all you'd like, but you won't find an exit."
This news panicked Red. "What!? You're lying!"
The man stood to full height. "I do not lie. However...say, what's in that basket there, miss?"
"Wine, and, and cake," Red wept.
He smiled. "In that case there is a door out, so be in good spirits, miss! You're likely to find your way home by consulting Sadia."
"Who, is Sadia?" Red asked, slowly brightening.
"Sadia is the all-knowing ruler of this land," the man explained. "You seem to me an intelligent girl, but know once more that I speak with no dishonesty intended. Sadia has special powers. She grants wishes to those who bear her gifts, and a basket of wine and cake would be a small price to have a door opened for you."
"You mean it?" Red beamed.
"With all my heart and my soul and by my code of honor," the man said. "By the way..." he put out a rough, meaty hand. "...name's Hunter. I am in Sadia's service."
Red shook his large palm. Hunter's grip was yielding but strong, and he smelled quite pleasant. Her cheeks warmed.
"How do I find this Sadia?" Red asked.
"Follow that path and do not break from it," Hunter pointed. "Sadia's dwelling is exactly fifteen minutes from where we stand. When you come upon three tall and domineering oak trees flanked by two hazel bushes, you have found her."
"Thank you," Red said with sincerity.
As she went on her way, she noticed she felt a strange. Her face was considerably warmer than before, and her palms were sweating.
****
A few moments ago Red had despaired Now, thanks to a kind stranger, she could go home again. Perhaps her mother had been wrong. Not all men were 'wolves.' In all likelihood most of them were probably like Hunter. It made Red wonder what else her mother had exaggerated.
