Rumpelstiltskin Re-Imagined by Amy Smucker
Once upon a time, a man lived at the edge of a small city. He was by no means a lazy man, but life, after gifting him with a good wife and six lively children, offered him little else in the way of good fortune, and funds always seemed to be in very short supply.
Some years before, the man had decided to borrow a sum of money. He saw it as a way to bolster his meager resources, and thought he could easily make the money back. Unfortunately, the scheme had utterly failed, and he was left with the constant pressure of the debt over him. Twice a year, the man made the short trek to the big city to deliver a payment to the merchant who had loaned him the money.
The merchant was not an overly merciful man, and yet he desired to maintain a vestige of good opinion between himself and his associates. And so one day, as the man stood in his office waiting for the worn pennies that comprised his payment to be counted, the merchant paused, made a notation, and then looked up and asked, “And how are the children getting along?”
The man brightened, for there was no subject he would rather entertain, and as the merchant returned his attention to his counting, the man began, starting with the youngest, to speak of golden ringlets and humorous outbursts, of athletic exploits and academic achievements. And just as the merchant had reached the correct sum, and looked up and began to listen again, the man had reached the oldest of his children.
“And my Annie,” he was saying, “She's got the quickest fingers you ever saw, and can do anything she puts her mind to. Why, just the other day she decided she wanted a basket. 'What do you want a basket for, Annie?' I said. 'You don't have much to put in it, and what's more, the payment is coming up and every spare penny's got to go to it, we've no money for baskets.' But my Annie, she wasn't going to let that stop her. She went down to the market and looked at all the baskets she could find, to get an idea of how they're made, you know. And then she went and cut herself a big pile of straw. And she sat all day, and worked, and the first few looked like something I'd be embarrassed to carry, and I'm not a man careful about my looks! But by the end of the day, she had herself a lovely little basket, in a design all her own. And all of her friends came and admired it so much that she made more—she remembered how she'd done it and made them quick as a flash! Five of them in an afternoon, and sold them for two pence apiece, and gave the money toward the payment. I couldn't've made it without her.”
“I see,” the merchant said simply. He handed the man his receipt and showed him to the door, but the pensive look in the merchant's eye belied his disinterested manner.
The next day, the man was quite surprised when he answered a knock at his door and discovered it to be the merchant.
He ushered the merchant in and offered him tea, but the merchant went straight to business.
“This loan of yours,” he said. “At this rate you will finish paying it off in 10 years, and it's a great strain on your family.”
“Yes,” the man said with a sigh. “It's true.”
“I have a proposition for you. I am embarking on a new business venture in the village of Darcen, a day's journey south and west, where the great river meets the sea. There in the marshes reeds grow that are thin and supple and strong like no other reeds in the kingdom, and there is a market for high quality baskets. Your story about your daughter suggested that she is just what I need to begin my business. This work comes naturally to her, and with a little training she will perform well.”
The man stroked his chin. “Ah, I see. But she is only 16. She's too young to be away from her family just yet.”
“Call her in, for I wish her to hear what I have to say, and to have a share in deciding her own future.” For the merchant knew that if his supposition was correct, the daughter would desire what was best for her father, and her encouragement would overcome her father's fears.
A moment later, Annie's bright face appeared in the doorway, and after a brief acknowledgment, the merchant continued.
“This is my proposition: She will sign a contract to work for one year, making a certain number of baskets, and working in a manner befitting her father's word about her. When she completes the contract, the debt will be considered as paid. If she fails, the debt will remain as before.”
Annie turned to her father. “Your debt will be paid! No more worrying where the money will come from! We may even have money to spare, to use in another business, like you've always dreamed!”
“But it's so far, Annie dear. So far from your family. How will you survive without us?”
Annie laughed with the freedom of a heart that has yet to know great difficulty. “I will be fine, Father,” she said. “It is only for a year.”
And so it was that shortly thereafter Annie sat in a rough cart, bouncing down the rutted highway that led to Darcen.
It was dark by the time they arrived at a lonely-looking building. There the merchant met her, and ushered her into a large, mostly empty room. In one corner was a large pile of reeds. In another was a small alcove, with a rough mattress and little else. “Welcome to your new home,” the merchant said. “We will speak again in the morning.”
“But...where are the others?” asked Annie.
“What others?” the merchant asked.
“The other workers.”
“Oh, there aren't any. It's just you.” And with that short answer, he closed the door.
Annie sank onto the thin mattress, and listened to his footsteps, the creak of the saddle, and then the gentle footfalls of his horse that faded away and left only silence echoing around her. In the depths of the nothingness of sounds, she fancied she hear the voices of her parents and brothers and sisters, the dear voices she had heard every evening of her 16 years, and a tear slid down her cheek.
The next day Annie realized just what would be expected of her. A master craftsman was there to teach her the proper technique and style which she was to use. She would have three days to learn from him. After that, she would be on her own. She would work every day, fulfilling the quota set by the merchant. An old woman who lived nearby would bring food twice a day. Other than that, she would be alone; she was not to have people around to distract her, and neither was she to leave the business to seek out company, or for any other reason.
“It's really better you're away from home,” the merchant said, “for you don't know anyone anyway, so there's no one with reason to come and see you.”
Though Annie's father may have exaggerated her ability, she was certainly quick with both her head and her fingers, and when the three days had passed, Annie was making baskets that passed the inspection of both the master craftsman and the merchant. They both returned to the city, but before they left, the merchant made sure that she understood her status. Any violation of the contract, any failure to meet the guidelines he laid out for her, would result in failure to repay her father's debt. His parting words were, “Don't think you can disobey my orders while I'm not here to watch you; I have my people here as my eyes and ears, and you'd better mind how you act if you wish your father's debt to be paid.”
“And where are these eyes and ears? I wish they'd show themselves and let me talk to them,” Annie thought glumly to herself a few days later as she picked up another reed. For she didn't mind the work, but she found her own company more and more tedious. The only ones she ever saw were the woman who brought her food, the boy who brought fresh reeds every morning, and the man who came to collect the completed baskets, and none of them ever seemed willing to chat, suspicious of the girl who came to this place all alone.
The daily quota was enough to keep Annie busy from dawn till night time. Sometimes she read a little before going to sleep, but most days she was tired enough that she didn't take the time.
One day Annie awoke late, the consequence of a head cold. She dutifully forced herself to keep working, but the pressure inside her head kept her from peak performance all day, and then it was dark again, and her body was screaming for her bed, but she had three more baskets to finish. And suddenly it was all too much, and she began to sob with exhaustion, wiping her head against her sleeves so her tears wouldn't spot the basket she was still working on.
Suddenly, the door of the building sprang open, and a young man burst into the room. “Are you all right?” He asked. “How can I help you?”
Annie reacted quickly. First shock, then delight at seeing a friendly face, and then suddenly fear filled her illness-weakened mind and she started to scream. “No! Get out! You can't be here! They'll see you!” She leaped up and ran toward him as if to push him out of the room.
The man took a couple of steps backward, but still looked at her, concerned. “I can leave if you want me to...but let me get someone to help you. You're not well.”
“No!” Annie burst out, still hysterical. “I'm not supposed to have anyone here with me. I'll get in trouble if they find out.”
“Don't worry,” he said. “As long as you stop screaming no one will know. No one lives around here anyway, and the road is deserted.” His voice was calm and gentle, and finally he was able to reassure Annie. She sat down again, and picked up her weaving.
The young man was left standing awkwardly, watching her, a slightly bewildered expression on his face.“Can I help?” he asked again.
She laughed, realizing how absurd this must all seem to him. “I'm sorry. If you really want to help, you could sit down and talk. I can explain while I work. I need to do the weaving myself, but it'll go faster with someone to talk to. Do you mind? I miss my family so much, and I have no friends in this city.”
The young man, whose name was Will, agreed happily, and sat down. Being a good hostess, Annie brought him some bread and cheese that were left from her supper, and he ate hungrily. Then she began to tell him of her story, and he listened with interest. In return, he told her of his work on a ship that was docked in the harbor, and how he came home regularly once a month, and always spent his three free days with his mother, who lived in the next village. “I was on my way home when I heard you crying,” he said.
Annie begged for stories of life at sea, and told him how she had always longed to see the ocean, but never had. He was surprised. “But it's so near. You could reach it in an hour if you walk quickly.”
She explained that she wasn't allowed to leave, even if she had the time, which she didn't. “I wouldn't know how to get there, anyway,” she said. “Although sometimes I think maybe I can hear the roar of the waves, late at night, and all I would have to do is follow the sound. But then again, sometimes I think I can hear the voices of my family, too, so it's probably all in my imagination.”
In what seemed like a few short minutes, the last basket was finished. “Ah, last one for the day,” Annie said with a relieved sigh. “8,370 more and I'll be free.”
Will looked startled. “What? You figured it out?”
“What else do I have to occupy my head with? It's not difficult, when I know how many days I have to work, and how many baskets are required per day. Yes, that's how many I have left.”
“That's incredible,” he said, looking at her admiringly. “I've never met a girl who enjoyed mathematics.”
And Annie, for her part, felt something soften inside of her, for though she had of course been commended by her parents and teachers, never before had she been praised by a young man for her intelligence. The boys in her village loved to flirt with the girls with big eyes and long, silky hair, who would smile and giggle back at them. Annie's face was lovely enough to have attracted some attention, but when she turned conversation to things she enjoyed, the boys were no longer interested. This young man was obviously different.
“Can I come again?” Will asked as he stood to leave.
“Oh, yes, please do!” Annie answered. Her eyes danced as they hadn't for months. “But...just be careful. Remember that no one can see that you come here.”
And so it became a custom for Will to stop by for a chat on his way to and from his mother's house for his monthly visit. Annie would always save the best of her supper for him, and he would bring stories from whichever place he had been. They talked about their favorite books, about the suffering around them and what should be done about it. They shared laughter at subtly humorous situations each had encountered. One day they began to speak of their hopes and dreams, and Annie told how she loved caring for her little brothers and sisters,and that she longed to be a mother someday and hold her own child in her arms. “And also, the sea, of course,” she added with a grin. “To see the sea is my second dream.”
He said he'd had enough of the sea already. “I want to live in a quiet mountain cottage with tall trees around it and a warm fire—and a good woman to sit and read next to me, and happy children playing all around,” he said. And he smiled at Annie, and her heart leaped.
One night, as Annie's year was entering its final months, Will stopped by unexpectedly. She greeted him delightedly, apologizing that she had no food for him this time. “Ah, then I shall have to take something else in return for my company,” he joked, assuming a harsh voice. “Something precious to you.” He paused. “Ah, yes! You must promise that your firstborn child will be mine!” And then he laughed, but he looked deep into her eyes, and she laughed as well, and gave her word in a light tone, but she blushed, because in his eyes she read the promise of a white veil and that voice saying “I do,” and the cozy fireside, and then the firstborn child that would be theirs to share.
Before he left that night, he explained that his ship was stopping for a very short time, and that he wouldn't have time for a visit on his way out this time. “But next month I will come as before,” he said. Annie's goodbye was accompanied by a happy smile as usual, but as she listened to his receding footsteps she felt an ache inside as if a piece of her heart was going with him.
That month was a long one for Annie. The days were dark and dreary, and on several nights the thunder roared and rain beat fiercely against the house.
The day of Will's visit finally came, and Annie saved him a snack, and waited, but he did not come. After waiting for hours, she knew she had to rest before the next day dawned, else she would have no strength for the work she still had ahead of her. She put out her light and cried herself to sleep.
It could be something small that happened to his ship, she reasoned. Maybe it was delayed somewhere. For two weeks she sat up every night waiting, and when she finally slept, her dreams were filled with towering, pounding waves and shrill screams of men adrift in the storm, clinging to pieces of wreckage.
But on the 15th day, Annie, whose face had grown whiter and more still with each passing hour, ate all of her food, and went to bed at her normal hour. Whether she knew the taste of the food, or whether sleep came quickly, is not ours to judge. The mind Will had admired was still as strong as ever, and though her heart may fail her, her mind knew her most important task of saving her family was yet unfinished.