Tales from the Hood

“Well, this is going to sound silly, but her name is Goldilocks,” Sabrina said, bracing herself for a laugh. However, the man didn’t even blink.

 

“You are friends with Ms. Locks?” he said.

 

Uncle Jake nodded. “Yes, we’re very close.”

 

The hotel manager seemed reluctant.

 

“Listen pal,” Uncle Jake said, “are you going to help us find her or should we just start knocking on doors?”

 

The man’s eyes widened in horror. “Take the elevators along the east wall. She’s on the third floor—suite 311.”

 

“Thank you,” Daphne said.

 

The group took an elevator to the third floor and followed the hallways until they found the room.

 

“This is it,” Daphne said, taking Sabrina’s hand. “I can’t wait to talk to Mom and Dad. They’re going to be surprised by how much we’ve grown.”

 

“You want to do the honors?” Uncle Jake asked her, gesturing to the door.

 

Sabrina nodded. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It drifted open at her touch. The lock and doorjamb were splintered and broken.

 

The Grimms looked at one another, suspicious. Uncle Jake frowned, pulled a magic wand from his overcoat, and stepped through the doorway. Nothing else seemed to be disturbed in the front room, but there were doors leading to others.

 

“Hello?” Jake called out.

 

There was no answer, but a moment later Sabrina heard the sound of breaking glass. Uncle Jake held up his hand to motion for everyone to be quiet. They heard a door slam and followed the sound, walking through the beautiful suite filled with elegant furniture, paintings, and linens. When they got to a closed door, their uncle turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. “Goldie? Are you OK?”

 

Just then, a tall man in a black jacket and pants appeared from behind the door. He was wearing a black motorcycle helmet that disguised his identity. On his chest was a horrible mark: a handprint in red paint. The paint ran down in drips like blood. The girls had seen the mark many times, but never so far from home. It was the mark of the Scarlet Hand.

 

The mysterious man punched Uncle Jake hard in the face and pushed past the girls and out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Sabrina and Daphne helped their uncle to his feet.

 

“That wasn’t very cool,” her uncle complained as he rubbed his jaw.

 

“Who was that?” Sabrina asked.

 

“Beats me,” Uncle Jake said.

 

“Where’s Goldilocks?”

 

They searched the other rooms but there was no sign of the blond beauty, or anyone else for that matter.

 

“I think she left in a hurry,” Uncle Jake said. “Her clothes and suitcase are still in the closet.”

 

Suddenly, Sabrina heard a loud engine start. Everyone rushed out to the balcony to find its source. The masked villain was on the narrow sidewalk below the hotel, sitting atop a black motorcycle. He revved his engine, sending a loud rumbling throughout the neighborhood, then sped along the edge of the canal. Sabrina wondered where he was racing until she spotted Goldilocks drifting down the waterway in a gondola. The motorcyclist was following her.

 

“She’s in trouble,” Daphne said.

 

“C’mon!” Uncle Jake cried and led the children out into the hall. They bypassed the elevator for the faster stairs. They ran through the lobby, causing the manager to cross his arms with a harrumph, and then they charged through the front doors out into the city. Outside, Sabrina spotted Goldilocks. She was surprised at the distance the boat had traveled in such a short time.

 

“What now?” she asked, but Daphne had already sprung into action. She descended a flight of wooden steps and jumped into an empty gondola. A moment later, she had the barge pole and was pushing away from the dock, giving the rest of the group only seconds to climb aboard. Uncle Jake took the pole and after a few awkward attempts, the group was floating down the canal in pursuit of the beautiful woman. Sabrina heard angry shouts from behind them and turned to see a red-faced gondolier race to the steps and shake his fist at the boat and its occupants.

 

Daphne waved at the man apologetically. “Sorry! This is an emergency.”

 

Uncle Jake pushed harder and harder with the pole, trying to catch up with Goldilocks. All the while, the man on the motorcycle puttered along like a mechanical tiger stalking its lunch. When he ran out of sidewalk he simply steered onto one of the city’s beautiful bridges and crossed to the other side of the street. His erratic behavior turned the heads of tourists and locals alike, as the sidewalks were built for pedestrians only. On more than one occasion he forced an unlucky person to leap into the water to avoid being run over. The commotion was causing problems in the canal, too. Boats steered out of the way to avoid colliding with the unexpected swimmers. Other boats stopped abruptly, causing a traffic jam. In a matter of seconds, the family’s chase had come to a complete halt.

 

Michael Buckley's books