by Maureen Mancini Amaturo

“Take this basket to Grandma tomorrow,” Mom said. “I made her favorite soup and some carrot muffins.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. Have some respect.”

“Can’t I go another day? I have a date with Little Boy Blue tomorrow.”

“No, you’ll go tomorrow on her birthday and think of someone other than yourself for once.”

I left the kitchen and texted Boy Blue as I walked to my room. have to cancel tomorrow. A popped up on my screen. I sent him one back and typed reschedule? He sent me a . I returned the , but not the . Not going that far.

Mom was making conversation over dinner, but I was not in the mood. After helping to clean the kitchen, I wanted out of there. Can’t sulk with her staring at me. Went upstairs, crawled under my blankets, and stared at the ceiling. “Maybe it’ll storm tomorrow, and I won’t have to go,” I whispered.

Morning totally crashed my hopes. I put my pillow over my head to block out the light of the horribly nice day, too nice for November.

Mom called, “Daylight is wasting.” I heard the thump and clunk of pots and bowls on our wooden table. “Up and dressed, I hope. Come eat your breakfast so you can get a move on.”

I punched my pillow and forced myself to crawl out of bed. I put on my blue wool dress and the white apron Grandma had made for me when her eyesight was better. That’s what Mom would ask me to wear anyway, so I thought I’d skip that argument. My oats, milk, and berries were on the table waiting for me when I got to the kitchen.

“Hurry now. And wear your red cape and hood. There’s a chill and a breeze about.” Mom gathered laundry to wash. “Grandma’s basket is on the corner chair.”

I cleaned the table, slipped into my red cape, and grabbed the basket. How I hated trudging through the woods carrying that thing. I considered faking an illness, but I know my mother. She’d overreact and trap me inside that cottage feeding me herb teas and mixtures for a week. Definitely didn’t want to deal with that. Visiting Grandma was the lesser of two evils.

As I made my way deeper into the woods, the little bit of sun’s warmth gave way to November’s chill. I pulled my hood up to block the wind from circling my bare neck. Checked my cell phone. At least another twenty minutes’ walk. My feet ached. I sat on a large stone to rest.

The aroma of those carrot muffins was tempting, but I knew better than to help myself. Mom would have a meltdown. So, on I walked, feeling cold and bored and dying for one of those carrot muffins. Then, I heard the crack of twigs and crackle of leaves. I dropped my hood to peek around and saw someone in the distance.When I looked his way, he hid behind a large oak. An uneasy feeling washed over me. I grabbed my basket and pulled up my hood. Best to get this trip over. Footsteps, raspy breathing, and branches snapping behind me kept me on alert and walking quickly. The thud of the stranger’s feet on the dirt sounded closer. I scanned the forest for any form of shelter or help. Nothing.

I ran.

I heard his growls and grunting getting closer. Suddenly, I felt his grip on my shoulders. He pressed one big, hairy arm across my chest from behind. In a gravel-coated voice he said, “Red is my favorite color.”

I screamed and kicked and strained around the edge of my hood to see his face. “Jeeze Louise. It’s you.” I thought Wolf had been banished from our village after being found guilty of destroying the pigs’ houses for the second time. They had him red-handed — criminal mischief and vandalism. As a repeat offender, he had been kicked out of town. “How did you get in here?” I squirmed out of his grip.

“I have my ways.” He wiggled his brows.

Wolf tugged at the napkin covering my basket. “Where are you taking that? As if I didn’t know.”

“It’s Grandma’s birthday.”

Wolf folded his arms. “She still alive?”

“Rude. How did you sneak back into town, anyway?”

He picked a nearby leaf and crumbled it. “Chief of Police owed me a favor. So, Miss Red Riding Hood—”

“Stop calling me that.”

Wolf laughed. “So, Betty, how’d you like to salvage this day? I got two tickets to the Pied Piper’s concert tonight. Wanna join me?”

“You got tickets? No way!” I tried for weeks to get tickets — called radio stations, even offered Humpty Dumpty twice face value for his handicapped seat. “That show sold out in minutes. How’d you get tickets?”

“Let’s just say the Department of Housing was grateful that I helped them get those three eyesore buildings knocked down in town. They were blocking progress on the new condo project.”

“The pigs’ houses?” I put my basket down.

“That’s the ones.”

I was confused. “But they ran you out of town for that.”

He winked. “I was working for them. Now that those luxury condos are up, the property taxes are, too. I did them a solid. They said if I ever wanted anything, just ask.”

“And you asked for Pied Piper concert tickets?”

“That’s your favorite band.” Wolf pulled two tickets out of the pocket of his red-plaid flannel shirt. “Tempted?”

“Does Jack Horner eat plums?” I had to think. If I hurried, I could get to Grandma’s, make some small talk, zip out of there, and still be in time to get to the concert. I totally wanted to see this show. “You asked for these tickets because of me, for real. Why?”

Wolf nodded. “I have everything I need. Except you.”

“Let’s be clear here, Furball. If I go to the concert, that doesn’t mean me you have me. Got it?” I kicked a stone in his direction.

“Got it.” Wolf pulled my hood up. “And wear that red cape. You’re a vision, my dear. Only you could look good in a get-up like that.”

I pushed my hood down again. “What time?”

“Meet me here at seven.”

“I better go. Grandma’s waiting.” I picked up the basket.

“Tell her I said hello.”

I punched his shoulder. “Not funny. She’s still not over that surprise visit you pulled last year. You nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“I was only trying to see you, Red.”

“And you never gave back her nightgown and cap, by the way.”

“After the concert, come to my den, and I’ll be happy to give you back Grandma’s pajamas.”

I laughed. “Fat chance.”

Wolf shrugged. “Can’t blame a man for trying.”

“You’re an animal.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

I don’t know what it is about Wolf that makes me forget all the things I don’t like about him. “Seven.” I brushed away the fur hanging over his eye. “I’ll wear red.”

He broke a twig off a nearby bush and snapped it. “One of us is dangerous.”

Look at those muscles. Don’t I know it. I could see in his eyes he didn’t want me to leave. Next to Wolf, Little Boy Blue was a bore. I headed for Grandma’s. I could hear Wolf’s heavy breathing as I walked away.

“Third row! Backstage passes, too!” he shouted.

I ignored him. The wind whirled. I grasped the soft, wool folds of my cape and pulled my hood up. When was the last time I wore this thing? I remembered — haven’t worn it since the last time I went to Grandma’s, and I stopped at a deli in town on the way home and bought a lottery ticket. Won $100. I pulled the front of my cape closer against the chill. Maybe this old thing is my lucky charm. Gotta wear it more often. Good things happen in the hood.