Sunrise/Sunset

The Baker and His Wife

Instantly they were hit with the awful stench of all the food that had been there for years. But before they could turn to leave, a man emerged from the shadows. Startled, the woman froze.

"Oh, I'm sorry to intrude sir. We didn't know you were closed. We've best be on our way."

Neither one could see each other's face in the darkness, but that familiar phrase tickled a memory in Phillip's mind.

Mr. Grieven yelled, and ran to block the door before either girl could leave. The woman held her daughter close, her hands trembling with fear and her heart pounding in her chest. Now that he was in the light, the woman could see his face. Though he looked as ragged as ever, hair grown and clothes covered in dirt and flour, she recognized him and let out a horrified gasp.

"Ph-Phillip... Grieven! Why, you crazy man! What has become of you? Let us out!" she cried helplessly, but kept her stance strong.

"Lucy Carriven." the name rolled off his tongue with ease, "The girl who broke my heart. The girl who shut her door in my face and left me all alone. For years I've wondered what would have happened if I married you, Lucy. But no need to wonder now. You finally came to me. Now I can marry you! Now we can be together!" hope flickered in his eyes.

"Please..." Lucy panted, anxiety stealing her breath. "Just let us go. I will not marry you, I have a husband-"

"Don't lie, Lucy. I know he was killed in war. But I will take care of you now. You can forever be in my hands, and nobody will come to take you away from me."

"No, I will not! I will not stay with you! Please, I have a family. I have my daughter."

"You... you have a daughter..." Phillip's hope vanished as his eyes drifted to the wide-eyed little girl standing beside Lucy.

"Yes. Her name is Jane." the woman nodded slowly as she eyed the door, hoping to escape.

Then Mr. Grieven smiled. "Jane, how would you feel to have a Papa again?"

"Papa... is coming back?" she looked to her mother, her heart leaping with excitement at the thought and her face lighting up with childish hope.

Lucy felt a pang of heartache gnawing at her chest as her daughter spoke these words. She shook her head, holding back tears.

"No no, Janie. I can be your new Papa!"

"Oh..." she said.

"Jane, don't listen to him. He wishes to take us, to hurt us." Lucy whispered into the little girl's ear.

"No thank you." Jane shook her head after hearing her mother's careful words.

Mr. Grieven's head began to spin as he realized his calm approach was not working. Something in him must have snapped, for the next moment he began to yell.

"If you love your dead Papa so much, you can join him! Surely that's what you want, Janie! Leave me and your Mama alone so we can be happy!" his voice shook, his eyes looking crazed. Before Lucy could react, he grabbed Jane's shirt and ran up a flight of stairs.

"Let her go, Phillip! Let her leave! Please, take me instead!" Lucy cried with all her strength, running after them.

He ignored her.

Then he opened a window, letting light into the bedroom for the first time in years, holding Jane outside of it. Her feet dangled high above the ground, as she cried and yelped and struggled.

"Jane!" Lucy screamed in horror as she took in the terrifying scene, "Let her go! Please, don't drop her! Take me instead, just please don't hurt her..."

Mr. Grieven turned around.

"Then we have a deal." he said. "I let her go and you stay with me. Forever."

There was only silence for a moment, other than Jane's quaking sobs.

"Deal." Lucy said quietly, little silent tears trickling down her cheeks. Every part of her was shattered, broken, empty. Her life was falling apart, her mind unable to process the situation she was in.

But at that moment, Mr. Grieven dropped the girl.

Lucy screamed. A long scream full of agony, full of disbelief. She screamed with all the breath she had until her lungs gave in and she collapsed to the ground.

That blood-curdling scream was the last anyone ever heard of dear Lucy Carriven.

She lived forever with Mr. Phillip Grieven, though it was a stretch so say she even lived at all.

And that is the tale, of the Baker and his Wife.