Stories Not for Children

By Godrak

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Dec 8, 2010
• ISBN: 9781456819187

Godrak

George Ivanov Nenchev, born 24.06.1971, city of Sophia. His Home town is Gabrovo, near ideal geographical center of Bulgaria. He Studied at National Nature and Mathematical Science School named after Ivan Gyuzhelev. He spends almost every summer vacation at the village of Lipnitza, Vratza district, with his grand father and grand mother ,where he studies nature in details. While being a child big impression on him had made stories about Chavdar Chieftain and so, heroes from Bulgarian history. Through village of Lipnitza goes The Road of Botev Company, a national hero who died in a battle against Turkish invaders. He had a big interest in Medicine. He Studied in Medical Faculty, Higher Medical Institute, town of Pleven. After that, he had worked in Emergency department, town of Gabrovo, his hometown. There he had many close meetings with Death and had changed his point of view about Life. Stories Not for Children appears as a postponed result of his new point of view.

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Copyright © 2010 by Godrak.

ISBN:          Softcover                                 978-1-4568-1917-0

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4568-1918-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD

SLEEPING BEAUTY

THE THREE BROTHERS AND THE GOLDEN APPLE

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD

It all happened a long, long time ago, somewhere in the distant dark ages . . .

It wasn’t easy. And they had to do it quickly. They suspected a trap from the very beginning. Sending all three of them to the same place at the same time was more than suspicious! They usually worked independently. All agents worked solo. That was the company’s policy. There have been some rare exceptions, but only a few in the company’s history.

All three of them were old hands at it, with tens of missions in their records. They all had the natural ability to know what’s right. They possessed an exceptional level of intuition.

No, there was no doubt about it—they were sending them against each other!

Little Red Riding Hood was hopping along the way without a care in this world. She was tossing her basket up and down. There was no danger of scattering the contents because the basket had a top on it. Mom had put some flat bread, cheese, and butter in it. There were also some tomatoes, onions, and salt. The girl (actually, she was a young maid in her prime) put on her red hood and set off for her grandma. She always visited her twice a week. She wanted to see her and bring her something because she loved her granny dearly. She was her father’s mother—Good enough reason not to live with the family. With the years passing, the ‘mother-in-law’ condition was getting worse and worse and no therapy could make it better. This was unfortunate because the old lady was a real sweetheart. Everybody in the county said so. But once she stepped near her daughter-in-law . . . wow, did she change! Fortunately, she was smart enough to get it—all it took was for them to live far apart. And besides, she knew perfectly well how much her son loved his wife and that they were really happy together. She visited them a couple of times a year; they came by, too. That seemed to solve the ‘mother-in-law versus daughter-in-law’ problem, or as her son had jokingly put it, ‘the unlawful design’. They didn’t live so far apart anyway—only two hours on foot. Every winter, her son brought her chopped wood for the stove, ready to use.

Recently her knees have been giving her trouble because of the change in the weather, but otherwise she was hale and hearty. She stopped by at the local community centre every day and participated actively in all initiatives. She read her own poems and sang with the Ladies’ Choir—all reputable women, well advanced in years. She was the co-founder and an active participant of the ‘clean and fresh forest’ movement, which cleaned the forest from the tourist litter every Saturday.

At night, when nobody could see her, she trained in the forest nearby—archery and knife throwing (standing still and in motion). She put on greyish-brown overalls and showed great dexterity. Backflips and acrobatics were not at all back-breaking, but compulsory must-do items of her evening training routine. No tree was left unconquered. Many questioned her courage to live so out of the way all by herself, but the truth was she didn’t want anybody around, except for her granddaughter, whom she used to teach a few tricks back in the day.

Every time she visited her grandmother, Little Red Riding Hood had an open and frank discussion on all life’s problems with her. Granny would pour some home-made cognac in the crystal glasses. Then they would sit in the rocking chairs and start talking. They had pretty nice time. When the sun started to set, the girl would say goodbye and head back home. Grandma would stay on the porch long after the girl was gone and wave.

That’s how it usually went.

And so, now the girl was on her way to the little cottage on the other side of the forest, full of pleasant anticipation. A lone eagle was roaming high in the sky above. Little Red Riding Hood was in such good mood that she waved it hello. The bird didn’t respond—apparently it had other fish to fry.

It was clear from the very beginning that the meeting, where they were supposed to challenge one another, had to take place. It simply had to happen; moreover, it had to happen exactly as their superiors planned and expected it. Otherwise they would have suspected something. The bad news was that they couldn’t see or communicate with one another before the meeting. That made it difficult to work up a plan. They were experienced, no doubt about it, but they still couldn’t coordinate their doings without communication among them. The only way was to use curriers. But who could they possibly trust to that extent? Who was beyond suspicion and worthy enough to put their lives in his hands?

And by the way, it was a perfect opportunity to quit the agency once and for all and leave the business. They only had to do it right.

He was a good agent. A damn good agent! They sent him where nobody else dared to set foot, and where everybody else failed. He had his tiny screw-ups, of course, but he was a closer. He was highly paid, quite deservingly so. He was planning to complete a few more missions and then ask the agency for retirement. In the end, this wasn’t a lifelong profession; it was a job for the young and capable. Quite strenuous this job was—it wore you out irreversibly. Usually only the top-ranking bosses lived to see retirement—they pushed paper throughout their entire career and had not once seen a gun in their face. Assholes-in-chief!

Little Red Riding Hood was humming a nursery rhyme, although she would’ve preferred to read a romantic novel. That was a no-go since her granny was waiting for her. She was now entering the forest. With sparse vegetation along the road, the wood was getting thicker and thicker, as she headed forward. In a minute the sun would barely shine through the thick foliage. She liked the forest. It smelled wonderfully. The birds were singing and occasionally flying by her head. Fawns with large tender eyes were approaching her without fear. Some even let her pat them on the backs, and then dashed away without warning. She had made friends with a badger who literally knew her schedule by heart. It was always waiting for her on a small path nearby. She gave it a slice of bread and it let her scratch its ears. Little Red adored animals. She enjoyed watching them hop from one bush to another. All in all, the stroll to her granny’s cottage was serene and refreshing experience. Well, there were a few mishaps, like this bear last year, which really gave her a fright, but this sort of thing happened very rarely. And for the record, in the end the bear was much more frightened than the girl, especially after it parted unwillingly with its right ear. Little Red loved playing about with the goblins who laid an ambush for her each and every time, hoping to steal her basket. That gave her opportunity to show off by jumping on the lower branches of a tree, then jumping from one tree to another, leaving the short-legged creatures behind. The only thing left for them was to make threats and stir laughter. She simply couldn’t understand why the other travellers in the forest were always panicking when they happened to meet those harmless creatures.

How exactly did it happen so that two agents got the same assignment? Well, he was doing