Red Riding Hood Gets Lost Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  1 The Audition

  2 Wacky Basket

  3 Lunch Talk

  4 Crystal Balls

  5 Crumbs

  6 Neverwood Forest

  7 Lost!

  8 Wolf

  9 Together Again

  10 The Enchantress

  11 The Note

  12 P for Puny

  13 Villains and Labels

  14 The Fear Factor

  15 Auditions Again

  Grimmtastic Adventures Await!

  About the Authors

  Also Available

  Copyright

  It is written upon the wall of the Grimmstone Library:

  Something E.V.I.L. this way comes.

  To protect all that is born of fairy tale, folk tale, and nursery rhyme magic, we have created the realm of Grimmlandia. In the center of this realm, we have built two castles on opposite ends of a Great Hall, which straddles the Once Upon River. And this haven shall be forever known as Grimm Academy.

  ~ The brothers Grimm

  “Red Riding Hood?” The voice of Tom Thumb, Grimm Academy’s drama instructor, cut through twelve-year-old Red’s thoughts like a woodcutter’s ax slicing into a willow tree.

  Startled, Red dropped her Academy Handbook. Thwap! It hit the floor. The pages of the script she had tucked into it scattered.

  It was Friday in third-period Drama class, and Red had been quietly rehearsing her scene as she waited backstage for her turn to audition. She was trying out for the lead role in the upcoming school play, Red Robin Hood. It was her first time auditioning for a play. But, hey — why not think big?

  She would have auditioned for last year’s play, too, but she’d been unable to fit Drama into her schedule until this term. Rule 56 in the Handbook: You must be enrolled in Drama class to be eligible to try out for school plays. Still, she’d been acting all of her life — even if it was only in private for family and friends.

  Sweeping the script pages and handbook aside with one ankle-booted foot, Red hastily called out a reply through the blue stage curtain. “Coming!”

  Her heart hammered inside her chest as she straightened her red cape squarely over her shoulders. Then she pushed her way through the heavy velvet curtains and stepped up to the front of the stage.

  “Don’t be nervous, don’t be nervous, don’t be nervous,” she whispered to herself. The auditorium’s acoustics were perfect, so anything she said in a normal voice onstage would be heard throughout the room.

  Mr. Thumb, who was no bigger than … well … a thumb, hovered in the air only a couple of feet away from her face. He wore a hat made from an oak leaf, and a thistledown jacket that he was very proud of. It had been given to him by a fairy queen! Riding an iridescent orange and black monarch butterfly, he was a dramatic sight as he fluttered back and forth above the lights at the edge of the stage.

  He’d come here once upon a time when Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm had founded the Grimm Academy, as well as the realm of Grimmlandia, as a safe place for all fairy-tale and nursery-rhyme characters to live.

  Mr. Thumb and his butterfly buddy, Schmetterling (which was the German word for butterfly), were both actors who had traveled all over Grimmlandia before settling down to teach drama here at the Academy. They were famous!

  After consulting the little vellum paper list he held in his tiny gloved hands, Mr. Thumb glanced up at Red. “You’re auditioning for the lead? The role of Red Robin Hood?” His voice was as tiny as he was, so he used a silver thimble as a bullhorn to make himself heard.

  “What a coincidence!” the butterfly exclaimed in a tinkly voice that reminded Red of wind chimes. “Her name’s practically the same. Must mean she’s meant for the role!”

  Hope rose in Red, and she sent the butterfly a wobbly smile. Part of her Drama grade depended on her audition performance. But more than anything, she wanted that starring role. Acting was her dream. And like Schmetterling had said, the role of Red Robin Hood was made for her. She loved the character and was sure she could bring it to life, if only she was given the chance.

  Mr. Thumb frowned at the butterfly. “Her name is not the same at all, Schmetterling! She’s named Red Riding Hood. The character in our play is a girl named Red Robin Hood. Completely different.”

  The Drama instructor signaled someone in the back of the room. Red blinked as a spotlight as bright as a hundred candles suddenly found her.

  “Ready when you are, Red,” said Mr. Thumb.

  “Good luck!” the butterfly told her. With that, the two of them zoomed offstage.

  A waiting silence fell. Blinded by the spotlight, Red could see only dark shapes filling the auditorium seats. Those shapes were people. Some were students who’d already auditioned or would soon be auditioning. Would they compare her performance to their own? Judge her? How would she stack up?

  “You can do this, you can do this, youcandothis,” she muttered under her breath.

  And she knew she could. Really. She was a drama-queen-and-a-half when it came to acting. Nothing made her happier than to act out bits from her favorite stories and plays for her BFFs, Rapunzel and Snow. Last night she’d even rehearsed her Red Robin Hood scene for her newest BFF, Cinda (short for Cinderella), who’d just started at the Academy this term.

  Still, Red had never auditioned on a real stage before. In front of a big room full of people. Her hands and knees shook.

  “Ready when you are,” Mr. Thumb repeated from somewhere in the darkness beyond the stage lights.

  “O-okay.” Red’s mouth felt as dry as an old leather trunk.

  All at once, every single word she’d memorized flew out of her head as if riding away atop Schmetterling. How grimmensely frustrating! She knew this Red Robin Hood scene by heart! She’d practiced her lines so many times, she could almost recite them backward.

  Seconds crawled by like hours. From the back of the room, one of the dark shapes coughed. The sound echoed throughout the auditorium. Red just stood there, feeling lost.

  “I — um — I,” she stammered.

  Tendrils of her long, dark curly hair, which had glittery red streaks in it, were sticking to her forehead. The spotlight was making her hot and sweaty. Why, oh, why had she worn her cape? It was making her even hotter. Should she take it off?

  As she reached to do just that, her stomach clenched. She’d only eaten a single bite of the knick-knack paddy-whack pancake-stack Mistress Hagscorch had served for breakfast in the Great Hall that morning. Had that one bite made her sick? Or maybe she was simply too hungry to concentrate. Or too nervous.

  “Red, are you okay?” It was Mr. Thumb’s voice again.

  “Sure. Fine. I —” But suddenly, she felt weirdly dizzy. She smiled brightly into the darkness. Then before she could finish her sentence, she crumpled onto the stage floor.

  Thump!

  * * *

  Next thing she knew, she heard the hum of flapping wings close by. A bug was buzzing around her face. With her eyes still shut, she batted her hand at it. Whack!

  “Whoa! Watch it!” a tinkly voice called out.

  Red’s brown eyes popped open just in time to see Mr. Thumb and Schmetterling whirl off in a spiral, surprised looks on their little faces. Oops! She’d smacked them away!

  As she watched, Mr. Thumb lost his seat and began to fall. Luckily, Schmetterling recovered quickly and zoomed over. Mr. Thumb landed astride the butterfly.

  “Wh-What happened?” Red asked, looking around woozily. She couldn’t figure out why she was lying flat on her back on the wooden stage.

  Slowly, she became aware of the circle of students around her. Their faces wore a
mixture of concern and alarm as they stared down at her. How embarrassing that they were all seeing her like this, stretched out on the floor!

  Not only that, they’d just seen her whack the teacher. A mistake like that couldn’t be good for her Drama grade. But that paled in comparison to botching her audition!

  Red tried to push herself up. Her arms were all tangled in her cape. Her entire top half was wrapped up like a red mummy.

  Creak! Someone kneeled behind her on the stage and looped a strong arm around hers.

  “Hey, I always thought you were a little dizzy, Crimson,” a boy told her in a low voice as he helped her up to a sitting position. “You didn’t have to faint to prove it.”

  Wolfgang? It had to be. That boy was always calling her by red synonyms instead of her real name. Which was so annoying. He’d started doing it last year when they’d had Calligraphy and Illuminated Manuscripts together. Apparently he’d noticed all the different names for shades of red ink. She was taking the class again this year, but not by choice. Her teacher had insisted on it since her penmanship was grimmtrocious.

  Now that she was sitting up, Red fought her way out of her tangled cape. Then she looked over her shoulder at Wolfgang. She could hardly believe it! Mr. Anti-social — being nice? But there he was, a teasing grin lifting one side of his mouth.

  “Name’s Red,” she mumbled. Of course he already knew that. They’d both been going to Grimm Academy since first grade.

  Wolfgang’s grin widened. Why had he helped her? He hardly spoke to anyone. Ever. He didn’t show up at GA parties. He hadn’t even attended the ball Prince Awesome had given at the Academy last weekend. He didn’t have many friends. Probably because he mostly ignored everyone. Wolfgang seemed to prefer hanging out on his own in Neverwood Forest. Where anyone with half a brain “never would” go. Basically, he had a reputation as kind of a loner.

  Still, in spite of all that, lots of students seemed in awe of him. Probably because he acted all cool and confident. The way Red wished she had acted a few minutes ago while trying to audition for this play.

  In a hurry to put the whole episode behind her, Red leaped to her feet. She stumbled a little in her cape as she took a few steps forward.

  Wolfgang to the rescue again. He stood and grasped her arm, steadying her. He was a lot taller than she was, so when he tilted his head down to look at her, a curtain of brown hair fell across his face. With a flick of his head he flipped it out of his pale gray eyes.

  “You okay?” he asked. Although his eyes were teasing as always, he really did sound concerned. Or maybe he was pretending for some reason. After all, he was a gifted actor. In fact, he’d been grimmazing as the second lead in last year’s play, Peter and the Wolf. Word was that he could shape-shift, too, though Red wasn’t sure if anyone had ever actually seen him do it.

  “Uh-huh,” she replied. “I’m fine now.” Still feeling embarrassed about her fainting episode, she snatched her arm free.

  Immediately the friendly, teasing expression in Wolfgang’s gray eyes faded. He tucked his fingers in his back pockets and hunched his shoulders. His head dropped forward, so that his hair shadowed his expression, and he took a few steps backward.

  “Wait —” She took a half step in Wolfgang’s direction. She should thank him. He’d been trying to be nice after all. And in her embarrassment, she’d been kind of rude in return.

  “S’okay,” he said. “Glad you’re feeling better. See you, Scarlet.” With that he ambled off, acting all casual like she hadn’t hurt his feelings.

  “Red! My name’s Red,” she corrected, frowning after him.

  “Are you all right?” Mr. Thumb asked.

  She looked over and saw that he and Schmetterling were hovering just out of reach. Probably afraid of getting accidentally whacked again.

  Pushing her dark curls back, Red nodded. She wished the crowd of students around her would leave. The way they were staring made her feel like a bug under a magnifying glass. She caught Schmetterling’s sympathetic glance. He could no doubt relate to that feeling!

  “What do you think happened?” she heard someone whisper.

  “Stage fright, I bet,” a boy replied.

  “Yeah, some people can’t handle the pressure,” said a girl with a British accent.

  Red pretended she hadn’t heard the comments. Though the first thing was true, she hoped the second one wasn’t. She was no weakling!

  “Sorry about fainting and about whacking you both,” she apologized to Mr. Thumb and his butterfly. “It was a reflex action.”

  “No worries,” said Schmetterling. “We’ve been booted out of enough theaters in the past to be accustomed to a certain amount of reject —”

  “Ahem!” Mr. Thumb interrupted. “Apology accepted,” he told Red.

  She smiled, relieved, but she still couldn’t believe what had just happened. She’d fainted. Failed her audition. What a nightmare! Acting had been her dream forever. But maybe she’d only been kidding herself. Her heart sank at the thought. Was it possible that she wasn’t born to be on the stage, after all?

  Bong! Red jumped a little as a low tone suddenly sounded from the Hickory Dickory Dock clock over in the Great Hall. The tone echoed throughout the school, signaling that it was eleven thirty. Lunchtime.

  Looking around at the Drama students, Mr. Thumb held up his thimble bullhorn and announced, “That’s it for auditions this period. We’ll continue in class on Monday.”

  “But I thought you were going to post the official cast of actors this weekend,” protested a girl named Polly. Red recognized her voice from a minute ago. She was the girl with the British accent who had suggested maybe Red couldn’t handle the pressure of the audition. Polly drank a lot of tea and roomed in Ruby Tower in the same sixth-floor dorm as Red’s friend Cinda’s two stepsisters.

  Mr. Thumb lifted his tiny eyebrows. “And now I’ve decided that I’ll post them Monday after school instead,” he informed Polly.

  Schmetterling curved his antennae in the shape of question marks in her direction. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  Polly’s mouth pursed as though she’d just taken a sip of tea and discovered she’d put too much lemon in it. “No,” she huffed. Her long blond hair was done up in a ponytail that swished from side to side when she shook her head. “It’s not really fair, though. I would’ve gotten to read my scene today if not for some people!” Turning away, she and her perky ponytail swished offstage.

  Although Polly hadn’t even glanced at Red, everyone knew exactly who she was talking about. It was Red’s fault the auditions had wound up running over to next week!

  As students began to step down from the stage and file out of the auditorium, Red looked for Wolfgang again. She’d hoped he was still around so she could finally thank him. But it looked like he’d slipped away without her noticing. She went back for her handbook, which was still lying on the floor behind the curtain. Then she headed for the stage steps, too.

  “I’ll look forward to your do-over, Red,” Mr. Thumb called to her from his perch atop Schmetterling.

  “Huh? Oh, I don’t know if I’ll try out again,” she replied, surprising herself. “Maybe I’ll do scenery painting instead.” Why did I say that? she instantly wondered. Her illuminations weren’t much better than her calligraphy. Both pretty much stunk. She didn’t care about art or fancy writing. She wanted to act!

  “What? You’ve got talent! Don’t be a giver-upper,” Mr. Thumb encouraged.

  “Um, okay, thanks. I’ll think about it,” said Red.

  “And don’t forget your basket,” called the butterfly.

  Red paused at the top of the steps and looked back over her shoulder. “Basket?” she repeated, confused.

  But then she saw it. A cute little picnic basket. It was sitting on the floor near the place where she’d fainted. About the size of a bread box, the nut-brown wicker basket had a swirly design on either end, double handles, and a lid that hinged in the middle.

&nb
sp; “It’s not mine,” Red told him, shaking her head. “Somebody else must have left it. See you Monday.” She was in a hurry to get out of there so she could forget this class had ever happened!

  As she started down the steps, she lifted her hand in a little farewell wave to the teacher and Schmetterling. Instantly, the basket whipped from the stage, launched itself at her, and looped its handles over the arm she’d held out to wave.

  “Whoa!” she said, rocking back on her heels.

  “A magic basket!” Mr. Thumb exclaimed.

  “Or else a very big, odd-shaped magic bracelet,” added Schmetterling.

  “Either way — it’s not mine,” said Red, staring at the basket hanging from her wrist. After sliding it off her arm, she bent and set the basket on one of the steps. Then she kept on going.

  It was nice of Mr. Thumb to offer her a second chance to audition, she mused as she reached the floor and started for the auditorium doors. But there was no way she would try out again on Monday. Nuh-uh! Today had been embarrassing enough. She couldn’t risk humiliating herself again with a tied-up tongue or another fainting spell.

  No, the thought of another audition made her want to throw up. Better just to take a bad grade and accept that some dreams weren’t meant to be. No matter how much that hurt.

  Knowing she wouldn’t have to put herself through this ordeal again, Red expected to feel relief. But to her surprise sudden tears welled in her eyes. She’d wanted to act in a school play for, like, ever. Now it looked as though that wasn’t going to happen. Giving up on her dream was going to be really hard!

  Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

  At the odd sound, Red glanced over her shoulder. That basket! It was right behind her. It had hopped down the stairs and was following her like a lost puppy. And now, seeing that it had her attention, it started doing tricks, spinning around and clicking its two handles.

  “Go away,” she snapped, in no mood to be amused. “Go find whoever you belong to.”

  She sped up. Her cape whooshed behind her as she raced for the auditorium door. As she reached to push the door open, the basket zipped around her and slipped itself over her arm again.