Twice upon a time, a poor woodcutter's first of two wives had two sets of identical twins. First came Hansel and Hansel. One Hansel was named after the poor woodcutter's father, Hansel; the other Hansel was named after the poor woodcutter's grandfather, Hansel.
About 2 years later came Gretel and Gretel. Gretel was named after the poor woodcutter's mother, Gretel; and Gretel was named after the poor woodcutter's two sisters, Gretel and Gretel.
And a terrible famine occurred, and Hansel's, Hansel's, Gretel's, and Gretel's mother died of double pneumonia. The remaining five did their best, but times grew doubly tough.
One day, the poor woodcutter, Janus, brought someone home who wasn't named Hansel or Gretel, but who was called Lisha. Unlike their fair mother, Gretel, Lisha was red of hair; but also unlike their fair mother, Lisha was alive.
Lisha turned out to be a cruel stepmother, just two criteria away from wicked, according to the Grimm-Göttingen Wickedness scoring system. But being bipolar, additional criteria fell like double-dog dares, making her full-fledged.
Lisha began questioning why she had combined her own meager resources with a household of five during an unrelenting famine, and simple arithmetic gave her the answer. Imagine, she reasoned, dividing by two rather than by six! Half for her, at least; and half for Janus.
Maybe.
No one ever got as much as half. Or even some.
"Janus," she called after the children had been sent to bed without supper. "If all of us here—you, me, Hansel, and Gretel—"
"—and Hansel—"
"Yes—and Gretel—were reduced to just you and me in the household. No one else. More for you and more for me. I'm tired of being hungry."
A realization slowly crept on his face. "Our children," he said.
"Your children," and we're all gonna starve as surely as the next winter will come. How the deuce are we gonna have enough to eat with all these children alive?" she blurted.
"Alive?"
"Around. I meant around."
"You have a black heart, Lisha."
"No," she said, "just a hungry one. The children are thin, but they're fine children. Many folks would love to have them." Now she whispered emphatically. "We can thin out the herd a bit, y'know. Get rid of one Hansel and Gretel or two Hansels or the pair of Gretels. Or the whole lot. The options are many."
"My children!" he cried.
"We can get them back. Take 'em to the forest. I have kinsfolk there who'll feed 'em and take care of 'em."
"What if something happens to them?" he asked.
"Even so, we know how to make more children. It's easy." Janus allowed his hunger to cross a red line, and she knew it.
"It's a sin against God."
"You're a Lutheran, Janus. Just confess it to the pastor. It's what all well-fed Lutherans do. In any event, it's either them or me." The gauntlet had been thrown.
"You have kin there?
"I believe I do. I'm almost completely positive. Just about absolutely certain."
"And we should just drop our children off and hope for the best? Is that a good plan?"
"Just temporary. Take heart, the children will be found."
"Not drop all of them off, right?" he asked timidly. "Just some of them?"
"That's a good start."
Hansel and Hansel had heard everything through the thin wall that separated the two rooms of their dwelling.
"We've got to tell Gretel and Gretel," Hansel told Hansel.
"Yes," agreed Hansel. "I've never heard of kinsfolk in the forest."
The next morning, Janus prepared the wagon and instructed Hansel and Gretel to join him on the ride through the forest where he planned on felling some trees. Lisha joined them for the send-off.
"You've never needed us before," said Hansel.
"Yes, Papa. Why now?" asked Gretel.
"What about me?" asked Hansel.
"And me?" asked Gretel.
"You two will have your turn," Lisha explained.
"We want to help now, with Hansel and Gretel," Gretel complained. "He'll have twice the help," she added.
"Maybe," Lisha said, "but I could send them off with only so much food. I wouldn't want you to go hungry."
"You mean we have food for us to eat here?" Hansel asked.
"Pack it for us to go with them now," Gretel suggested.
At this point, Lisha beat them both with a stick. Lisha wasn't clever enough to disguise the remaining two being a backup if the nefarious delivery of Hansel and Gretel to the wicked witch went awry.
Janus knew nothing of a wicked witch; he depended on Lisha's assurance that kin would take them on. Of course, there weren't any. But Lisha knew about the witch of the forest.
By the time the day was half over, Janus was already on his way back, without the children.
"Hello, children," the wicked witch of the forest was soon greeting Hansel and Gretel that afternoon.
"Hello," said Hansel.
"Hello," said Gretel. "Who are you?"
"My name is Twila," she answered. "What are your names?"
"Hansel."
"Gretel."
"God is gracious," said Twila to Hansel. And to Gretel, "A beautiful pearl you are." Hansel knew God had been doubly gracious with him and Hansel, and Gretel knew beautiful pearl strings came by the pair.
Hansel counted the bumps on Twila's crooked nose. Gretel counted the hairs on the gnarly crone's unsightly chin wart. They were somewhat familiar with the Grimm-Göttingen Wickedness & Loathsome scoring system, under Category: Crone, and couldn't really remember if only two bumps or two hairs met the criteria.
"Hungry?" the wicked witch asked.
She had said the magic word. From then, the children were duly hypnotized, temptation wafting toward them from Twila's candy-trimmed gingerbread house.
Hansel ran up the path toward the smell. Gretel raced him. Twila cackled.
At the house, Hansel and Gretel began deconstruction, hog-bellying every edible part. They ate and ate until they slipped into hyperglycemic lethargy. Twila smiled, for she would eat like a queen that night!
She had a double oven, for often children came in pairs or even more. She always kept them burning.
She walked the groggy Hansel into the kitchen, where the bottom oven was open. Before he could resist, in he went, the door slamming shut. The screams ended quickly, and Twila turned to child number two.
Gretel was snoring quietly when Twila woke her. "Huh?" she mumbled. The witch led her into the kitchen.
"It smells good in here," Gretel said meekly. "What are you cooking?"
"Do you like Hansel?" she asked Gretel.
"Of course! I love Hansel," she responded.
"Well, then, you're in luck. Would you like to see what smells so good?"
She walked Gretel toward the ovens and opened the top one, which was too high for the girl to peek inside. "Here's a stepstool," Twila offered.
Gretel stepped up to the top. Still, she needed tiptoes. Gretel teetered precariously; a simple push was all that was needed.
"They do it every time," Twila hacked, as she threw the bolt sealing the door. The screams ended quickly.
Indeed, Twila ate like a queen, eveb going back for seconds! Twice!
Back home, Lisha wasn't satisfied. Even with two less mouths to feed, she realized she'd still leave the table hungry. She looked at Hansel and Gretel. Then she turned to Janus.
"Janus," she said with a wink, "did you drop off Hansel and Gretel with their kinsfolk?"
"Yes," he answered. "I'm almost completely positive. Just about absolutely certain. Hansel and Gretel are visiting them right now. I believe there's lots of food, too. They're very wealthy. They eat fatted pig every night."
Hansel and Gretel marveled. A fatted pig. Every night. It must have been hog-Heaven.
"Say," Lisha offered. "Would you two like to visit them, too?"
"Yes!" said Hansel.
"Oh, yes!" agreed Gretel.
"What do you think, Janus?" Lisha asked him.
"Oh, my love, I don't know."
"But I do know!" Lisha said sternly as she regarded her barren table, settling the matter.
The next morning Lisha could hardly contain herself, knowing she would be dividing the day's provisions by two now instead of by six or even four.
And it turned out that their papa dropped Hansel and Gretel at the same spot he had dropped off Hansel and Gretel. And it turned out that Twila had smelled them all the way from her gingerbread cottage. She immediately sought them out.
Seeing Hansel and Gretel, however, she took a double-take. Weren't these the same two she had cooked and eaten? Whatever this evil magic was, it was doubly deviling.
"What are your names, children?" she asked hesitantly.
"Hansel."
"Gretel." Twila gulped.
If she was seeing double, she was hearing double, too. Iimpossibl! The Hansel and Gretel from the night before were leftovers now. She looked like she had seen a ghost.
These are bifocal ghouls, she thought in panic. Each time the names Hansel and Gretel earwormed through her head, her panic doubled. Wraiths! dhe thought. Furies, here to dispense justice!
"Why so unsettled, kindly woman?" Hansel asked.
A trick question? Twila wondered. They either want me to confess my crime or deny it with punishable dishonesty. That's how the gods trick you into condemning yourself. It's how they extract a confession. She turned and ran, shrieking.
"What have we done?" asked Gretel.
"I don't know, sister. Did we offend her? We should follow."
"We should, brother. We shan't trouble her so and then allow her whatever this torment is."
They ran down a well-worn footpath until they came upon the house made of gingerbread, and whose finish "carpentry" was of candy. The children's altruism for Twila's torment quickly devolved into the calories they consumed so vehemently. For they were even hungrier than the Hansel and the Gretel from the day before.
The witch was convinced demons were nibbling on her home, a previous temptation for wayward children who ended up on her table; now it was sustenance for the very ones who were here to condemn her and send her to her rightful reward in Hades. She grew another hair on her chin wart, adding a criterium.
Hansel's and Gretel's hyperglycemia rendered satiety, finally, and then they remembered their mission. Hansel began knocking.
"Be gone, ghouls! Fly, Furies!" Twila called out. Gretel found the door open and peeked in. When Twila saw her, she screamed.
"No, no!" shouted Gretel back. "Don't be alarmed!"
Twila suspected they meant to seize her and bring her to the seated jurors of Gehenna...f the abyss, the inferno...Perdition.
She ran into the kitchen, where both oven doors were still ajar from the night before. The fires in them still burned, for Twila used them to heat her home. Hansel and Gretel followed her. She stepped backward away from them, facing them the whole time.
"Have mercy, phantoms! Spare me, demons!" She continued distancing herself until she tripped back over the stepstool that had doomed Gretel the night before. In she went, backward, heels-over-head, and the force of her thud on the grille snapped the door closed fast.
Hansel and Gretel were dumbfounded.
"What have we done?" asked Gretel.
"This tragedy, we caused," confessed Hansel.
"We must run home and tell Papa and Lisha," Gretel said.
That's when they heard the door in the other room creak open. They looked at each other, stunned into silence by the continuing misadventure.
"Twila!" someone called, who sounded just like Twila. Hansel and Gretel looked at each other saucer-eyed. Was Twila calling herself from her own oven? Impossible!
A woman came through the door. It was Twila! A chill ran down two young spines simultaneously.
"It's you!" Gretel cried. Hansel took her under his arm.
"Where is she!" the woman shouted.
"Wh- Wh- Who?" Hansel stuttered.
"Twila," the woman answered.
"But that's you!" Gretel shrieked.
The woman cackled. "You think so, do you now? Twila, twice spun, that's me, if you insist, ha! Yes."
"A double," Gretel shrieked.
"A doppelgänger. An evil twin. Her ghost!" said Hansel.
"Her spirit's here to vex us so," agreed Gretel.
She realized that looking just like her identical twin had spooked the children and, as her luck would have it, fatally. The top oven door was still open, and she considered which one to push in first.
They really had nowhere to run, and this Twila strategized how to hold one while pushing the other one in. Or both in simultaneously? Or one in each of the top and bottom ovens in rapid succession?
This was the moment when Janus burst through the door with his ax in full arc. Off went Twila's head into the top oven, which slammed shut. Before her torso could collapse lifelessly onto the packed mud floor, Janus swooped it into the bottom oven.
"Papa, what have you done?" asked Hansel.
"Papa, what have you done?" asked Gretel, almost in a fugue of two-part harmony.
"Alas," cried Janus. "These witches eat children. Fatten 'em up with simple carbohydrates. Then cook them up in these very ovens."
Hansel gasped. Gretel cried.
"And Hansel?" asked Gretel.
"And Gretel?" asked Hansel.
"I'm sorry to tell you, they were last night's supper for the witch."
Hansel and Gretel fell into each other and wept.
"But all is not lost," Janus offered. The children picked up their heads, curious. "Tonight, we'll be eating like witches!" He jerked his head to the ovens. I think it's time; we're ready to set the table."
Hansel and Gretel were conflicted, but their hunger won out. It was a two-course meal of witchhead and witchbody. Hansel laid claim to the dark meat. Gretel favored the victuals.
After the last of Twila passed into the food chain, Janus smiled. "I have a surprise for you two," he said.
"Oh, tell us," cried Gretel.
"Yes, tell both of us," added Hansel.
"Well, we must mind our manners," Janus said. "One cannot merely show up to a dinner party without a little something for the table."
"You brought more, Papa?" asked Gretel.
Janus stepped out to retrieve a large parcel bag, dragging it in through the door.
"What is it?" asked Hansel excitedly.
"Dessert!" shouted Janus. He unwrapped Lisha, already cooked, still warm, replete with garnish.
"I have a new favorite!" shouted Gretel.
"Doubly so!" added Hansel.
The three dug in as if they hadn't eaten properly in weeks, which for them was more than an expression. When Gretel was on Lisha's fingers, Janus laughed.
"What, Papa?" she asked.
"Finger sandwiches!" he answered.
"You're right, Papa," Hansel said.
"And left, too," laughed Gretel. "Enough for everyone! Ha!"
"Oh!" cried Hansel suddenly, fretting.
"What is it, child?" Janus asked him.
"We forgot to say Grace," he answered.
"It's OK," Janus reassured him, clicking his tongue a few times to savor the flavor. "We'll be going to the pastor for Confession in the morning. I've been told—by someone with good taste, mind you—that it's what all well-fed Lutherans do."
"If we want to live happily ever after," Gretel laughed.
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