Free Hilda - Snow White revisited by Paul Kater Page A

itself ended
up between her breasts, which was perhaps the safest place for
something to be stored in the entire vicinity. Until you reached
Hilda's house.
    Hilda decided it was time to go and do the
rounds. In her casual outfit, broom in hand, she stepped outside.
As she heard a woman call out: "Lady! Lady!", Hilda turned her
head. "Yes?"
    "No. Not you. I am looking for my dog,
Lady."
    "You are looking for your dog. Right. And for
that you come down MY street, yelling as if a Banshee is behind
you? Just to find your mutt?" Hilda started to feel that she should
indeed have stayed in bed.
    "Lady is not a mutt," the woman said, feeling
very insulted. "It is a nice little dog from a good breed and she
is very dear to me and my family. Lady!"
    Hilda let go of her broom, which remained
floating in the air. "Hey. Lady. Cut it out. Please. I am not
having a good hairday, and your yelling is pissing me off like
terrible."
    "Why don't you help me find my dog, you...
person," the woman snapped at Hilda. "La-" The next sound that came
from her throat sounded like "gag".
    Hilda waved her wand around a bit. "I like it
when it's quiet," she said to her broom. She walked to the woman.
"You know... have you ever heard the saying that it takes one to
know one?"
    The woman, her mouth open and unable to say
something, nodded.
    "Nice. Let's see if that is real, shall we?"
Hilda smiled broadly. It was her 'this does not bring something
good'-smile. She waved her wand again. "Okay. Now you tell me."
    The woman had changed into a rather large, grey
schnautzer kind of dog. It wagged its tail and looked at Hilda with
high hopes.
    "Get lost, you tramp!", Hilda yelled, stomping
her foot. The dog took off. In silence.
    The wicked witch returned to her broom and got
on it. "I like it so much when it's quiet..." She made the broom
rise and flew off.
    Snow-White had no idea of what her stepmother
was doing. Nor what Hilda was doing. Instead, she walked to the
well for the next time. The container was now visibly filling up,
which was good. Her back was starting to kill her, which was not
good.
    She threw down the bucket and rubbed her palms.
Her hands were hurting from all the walking up and down with the
heavy bucket.
    "Why, hello," a gentle voice behind her said,
"and what is a pretty woman like you doing, carrying water?"
    Snow-White flushed as she saw a handsome young
man on a white horse looking at her. From the expression on his
face it was apparent that he liked what he saw. Quickly she messed
with her hair, to try and get that in shape and form a abit. "Hello
yourself, why is a handsome man like you peeking at girls that
carry water?"
    "Well, hello, I was just passing by, on the road
to new adventures and undiscovered horizons, and I was thirsty. And
here is this well, so I thought, oh well..."
    "And you are going to show me how you drink
water from the well, sitting on your horse?"
    The young man smiled and with a move that showed
experience he jumped off the horse. As he touched the ground, he
immediately folded himself into a bow. "My name is Jordan, and I
put myself at your service."
    Snow-White grinned. "I like that idea..."
    Jordan grinned also.
    A few hours later Jordan was sweating all over
and rubbing his sore hands. The watercontainer in the kitchen of
the dwarf's house was full.
    Snow-White carefully kissed the young man on the
cheek, as he was quite smelly and sticky. "Thank you so much, dear
Jordan. You may have saved my life!", she said. "I must go now, and
start work on the house. Maybe we will meet again!" Snow-White
skipped off, but as she reached the bend in the path she stopped
and looked back at the pretty boy who had so unselfishly offered
his help. She smiled and waved at him. Her heart jumped when he
waved back at her.
    Snow-White turned and went on towards the house.
The young man, prince Jordan of the neighbouring kingdom, shook his
head, looked at his sore hands and finally had the time to drink
something. "What an