Folk Tales 11; Rumpelstillskill

Rumpelstillskill ....

Sometimes in life we are faced with many situations which we sometimes just cannot handle it alone. But there are others out there who will assist us. Some may come with their own to do list and if it can be done, why don;t we share the load together.

So our story began.

‘Howie, damn your charming mouth. How can you bring in more of these orders that I can handle by myself. Damn, I have to cooked and take care of your kids, and now you add in me another, plus this other chore of making more shawls for the coming festive.’

‘But Mathida, I am working as hard as you are. I got those orders on my persuasion skill and its gonna get us some good food on the table.’ I know Howard Gracen is a good man, a solid pillar in the family and loving husband, but I am overloaded with this extra chore. I cursed myself for my sewing skills and the chatty mouth to tell my neighbours. So they bring in their clothes for me to mend; sure I could do it but the clothes came in faster than the needle could thread. We can’t afford no high tech machine to do it, so its ma’ own thumb and index finger who does the sewing.

‘Ma, can you read me this story? Its about a nasty man who spun straws into gold.’

‘Sorry, darling but mama got her straws to spun into gold here. So git and helped your brother with his gruel.’

‘That ain’t no gruel; its mama’s porridge. And we love it.’

‘I know darling. But if I don;t get these out, we will be having gruel instead of porridge.’

God, I hate these moments. I hate to leave my children out when they asked for my company. I hate to do this shawls when I could be with my husband. I hate this life altogether.

‘And if I helped, would you helped me too?’ Now who the heck is that? It ain’t no familair voice and I see no one at the door. I ain’t got my gun now, but I am prettty fancy with my needles. I seen those ‘ninja’ moves before. Then I spotted the person behind the voice.

‘Your mama did not feed you? There is some porridge in the kitchen, and I am taking no more shawl order.’ He does look small for his age. Heck he is older than me with his long white beard.

‘I am an imp. My name is Rumpelstillskill, and I am here to help you. If you helped me back.’ Golly macaroni, what is an Imp doing in my living room. I rubbed my eyes and slapped my cheeks to see if I am still dreaming or on the highway to heaven. Or is it Martha’s herbs I had this afternoon.

‘Mrs Howie, you are a charming lady. And I am here to help you if you helped me back.’

‘Hey, hold on, you imp. If I know ma story, you are not to tell me your name and I am to guess your name. So why did you reversed the story theme? Are you sure you did not knock your head when you flew out the castle then. Or you are an imposter.’ I got my longest needle in front of me; its abut two inches long and I won’t comment on the circumference.

‘No, Mrs Howie. I am the original. I am Rumpelstillskill. They got the name wrongly spell. I left the castle as you said, and I was in seclusion for so long till I heard your call. Its was rather long distance and costly too. But I came as soon as I could. I am here to help you with your shawl if you spend three nights talking to me. Tell me stories like you did for your kids while I sew those shawls. I even brought my own needles and threads.’

‘You for real. You sure you are not one of those hidden camera shows actor.’

‘No, ma’am. I am the real imp. But can I have some porridge please. Those fairies served only gruel to me.’ So he had his fill on the porridge and he started work. So did I on  the shawls. I could recite those stories word for word without reading it. And my kids joined me in listening in, and they slept by my side. And for three nights we did just that, and the work was completed.

‘Rum’, that’s what I call him now. ‘You leaving now. I meant you say you needed three nights and now the work is done so are the nights. You could stay if you want. I like to read you more stories if you want.’

‘No, Mrs Howie. You carried out your promise and I did mine too. We helped each other this three nights. You see I told the evil queen I will get you tell me stories for three nights and I get to keep her second child. She cheated on the first one, she got outside help to check on my name. So we bet again. And I got to leave to ‘brew’ a kid.’

‘Oh!’ I am shocked that I just assisted a cannibalistic imp. I ought to report him to the police. He must be stopped.

‘No, Mrs Howie. I won’t eat the kid. I am just scaring the Queen not to spun fake stories of golds from straws. She need to learned her chemistry again. I will return the kid before the 24 hours is up. But I have one last request. Can I come back to hear you tell those stories?’

‘Yes, you may. But only when I am with the kids. Not when I am with Howie. Those stories ain’t for your ears. But where is Howie these three nights?’ That when I heard the door opened and the familair footsteps came in.

‘Mathida, I am so sorry. For the last three nights I keep on knocking on the wrong door on the wrong houses. I was sleeping in the alley most times. I dunno what happened to me.’

‘Its okay, Howie. I know how those Jamaican RUM can make you walk differently. We got the shawls ready and you can deliver it after you have a good rest. So do I too.The last three nights with the imp are tiring too.’

‘Imp?’ Never mind that.

The shawls sold well and we had some good food on the table. And most nights, I will read to the children by the open window overlooking the small garden outside your backyard. Rum never come back again to see me, but I think he is near us most times.

Or who else will leave their footpints on my bed of carnations unless his name is Tom Peep.

( sometimes help offered to us should be accepted gracefully, because by doing so, we actually help those who offered us. )

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