Tales from the Hood

The big man walked over to a trash can, hefted it off the ground, and tossed it across the street and through the front window of a jewelry store. An alarm rang out that seemed to shake the air around Sabrina’s ears.

 

“I suggest we hide,” Robin said.

 

The family and their lawyers hurried around the corner of the jailhouse and ducked down behind some bushes. Seconds later, they watched Sheriff Nottingham rush out of the building and across the street. He glared at the broken window and then dashed inside the store.

 

“Let’s go,” Robin said.

 

The family raced inside the jailhouse and closed the door.

 

“John, I believe we might need the princess,” Robin said.

 

Little John nodded. “I believe you’re right. I’ll bring her back as soon as I can, but you know how she gets. If there’s a hair out of place she’ll refuse to come.”

 

“I’m sure you can persuade her,” Robin replied.

 

The big man grinned. “My pleasure.” Moments later, he was gone.

 

The group hurried back to the jail cells. Canis was slumped in the corner of his, breathing hard and attending to wounds he had suffered at the hands of the card soldiers. He looked tired, though Sabrina kept her distance. A tired Big Bad Wolf was still more dangerous than anything else known to man.

 

“Why have you come?” he said when he saw the family.

 

“We spoke to the child,” Granny Relda said.

 

“You are wasting your time,” Canis growled. “Can’t you see your efforts are for nothing. Even if I wanted my freedom, Heart and Nottingham would never allow it.”

 

“If we don’t prove your innocence, they are going to put you to death,” Robin said.

 

“So be it,” Canis sniffed. “You cannot prove the innocence of a guilty man.”

 

Everyone was quiet until Robin broke the silence. “Still, I believe we have a legitimate defense that needs to be explored. You and the Wolf are two separate beings sharing the same body. If that’s true then we have to prove that you aren’t in control when you are the Wolf. To do that we need to know exactly what happened that day.”

 

Canis shook his head.

 

“C’mon, Mr. Canis,” Daphne said. “You can at least answer some questions.”

 

“Fine,” Canis said. “What do you want to know?”

 

“What do you remember?” Robin asked.

 

Canis sat quietly for a long time, then sighed. “Nothing.”

 

Granny Relda’s face turned red and she angrily waved her finger at the old man. “Mr. Canis, you better start talking right now or I swear I’ll . . . I’ll . . . well, I don’t know, but you won’t like it!”

 

“Relda, I have no recollection of that day or any before it,” Canis said. “When I am the Wolf I only see tiny moments, like snapshots of events. I remember the blood. I hear someone screaming but nothing is clear. When I am Canis I only know that something terrible has occurred.”

 

“Red Riding Hood mentioned that she saw cages in her grandmother’s house when she arrived that day. She says you were in one of them,” Robin said.

 

Canis shook his head. “The child has an imagination. I wouldn’t take what she says too seriously. The things the Wolf did that day . . . it was too much for a little girl to see. The damage I’ve done to that poor child’s mind is inexcusable.”

 

Just then, there was a terrific racket in the hallway. Sabrina gasped, fearing that Nottingham had returned, but when the door flew open she saw Little John, who was carrying a woman in a blue dress over his shoulder. The woman was holding a miniature pug in her hands. The little dog barked and snapped frantically.

 

“Here she is, boss,” Little John said.

 

“John, you put me down this minute!” she cried. “I am royalty, you know. I have never been so offended in my life.”

 

Robin approached the duo and looked up into the woman’s face. “Hello, princess.”

 

“Robin, so help me, if your lummox doesn’t put me down this instant—”

 

“Of course,” Robin chuckled. “You can set her down, John.”

 

Little John eased the princess to her feet, and she complained bitterly about how he had wrinkled her expensive gown. When the woman was finished straightening her dress and looked up, Sabrina recognized her immediately. Her name was Beauty, though many people knew her because of her famous husband, the Beast. The duo were like night and day in appearance: She was a devastatingly attractive woman, he was a horrible nightmare with fur, yellow eyes, and tusks creeping out of his mouth. Sabrina had had a few run-ins with the couple already, and she knew the Beast was a member of the Scarlet Hand. Whether Beauty had joined as well, Sabrina didn’t know.

 

“What are they doing here?” Beauty asked, alarmed.

 

“These are my clients,” Robin said. “And they are in need of some of your special talents.”

 

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