S H O RT S TO R I E S F R O M T H E G LO B A L C LA S S R O O M |
2014
4.
Frigga laid in her bed, waiting for the knock on the door and the ‘Hi Gramma! It’s Eztli!’ Eztli should have been here
by now. She hoped nothing bad had happened to her. She called Bacia; maybe Eztli hadn’t left yet. Maybe. The phone
rang once. T
wice. Three times. But no one answered. ‘Weird,’ she thought, ‘Maybe Bacia is in town, shopping, or
maybe Bacia came with Eztli – unlikely, but still possible.’
Deciding that she would get news if something happened, or that Eztli would get there soon, she lay back down and
went to sleep.
5.
The wolf knocked on the wooden door with its snout three times, trying to match the little girl’s voice as well as it
could, calling ‘Hello Gramma Frigga! May I come in, please?’
‘Of course! Of course! The door is open; I am in the bedroom! Oh Eztli! I am so glad to see you!’
‘Me too, Gramma!’
‘Oh, good. Now, why don’t we eat all that lovely food you brought!’
The wolf turned the corner, revealing itself to Frigga. ‘No, Frigga,’ its voice normal again, ‘You are the food. Oh, and
this is for Eztli: please!’ And with that, the wolf pounced.
6.
Eztli skipped along the path, holding a bouquet of at least twenty multi-coloured flowers. She entered the view of
the petite house and ran at full speed, shouting, ‘Hi Gramma! Gramma, Gramma, Gramma! I’m here! I’m here! Can I
come in? Huh, huh, huh? I am here!’
‘Oh yes, dear, here I am. I am in the bedroom, come in! Come in!’ replied a voice.
Eztli, completely fooled by the voice, entered the house, and then the bedroom. The wolf lay in the bed, covered by
layers of blankets and sheets.
‘Gramma, you look different. What happened?’
‘Oh, I am just sick, and old age does this to people.’
‘Gramma, your eyes look different.’
‘Old age, as I said before.’
‘And your ears are misshapen.’
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