The most remarkable thing about the age of industry was not the revolutionary tactics that businessmen employed to increase production, neither was it the new technological marvels that would weave one man's dream into reality, nor was it the improvement of the way of life for higher society. No the most remarkable thing about this industrial era was how quickly fairy tales and magic could be stricken from the minds and hearts of children. Yes, all those wondrous, cautionary tales about the dark forests, hungry wolves, and spinning wheels with dire consequences were eaten by the machines of industry, pumping out smog to darken the streets, create wolfish grins on neighbors and friends alike, and spun wheels which had dire consequences.
Thus, we retell a tale with two young orphans named Hansel and Gretel...
Hansel stood outside the factory where he and his sister worked for pennies a day to make ends meet. He stood a head taller than most boys, though was still short enough to slip through the vents of the big blast furnaces in the factory, and yet strong enough to heft the buckets of coal needed to keep them running hot. Most importantly, Hansel was clever. Hi sharp-wit had gotten himself out of many whippings from the foreman who adopted him and his sister. He had already been paid by the foreman, and was waiting for his only family in the world, Gretel.
She was a simple-minded girl, and thin almost down to the bone. She was so small and tiny that she was easily able to crawl around the running textile machines and grab up bits of cloth and thread that would fall out. Her own simple-mindedness might have come from being exposed to heady, thick-scented chemicals for which cloth and thread alike were dyed and treated with, but most - including her own brother - simply attributed it to her childish nature. She was soon scampering out of the textile mill, her dirty rag of a dress bouncing about like a feather in the breeze carrying her own payment in hand.
"Late again, Gretel... You kept me waiting for ten whole minutes!" Hansel gently scolded whilst trundling along the cobbled road. "Did you at least remembered to get paid?"
"Oh yes!" she said, showing off her wage to her brother. "Mr. Foreman said that I got a bonus today too! See? Look! Five more pieces!" Her childish grin was proud despite Hansel's shrewdness.
"Well... At least there's that..." he relented, taking the money and hurrying along. He wanted to get to the bakers before they closed to get their loaf of hard-bread and find a place to settle down in the slums for the night. Such is the life for a pair of orphaned children of the time. In fact, they may have been luckier than most orphans. When losing their parents, most simply die on the streets or are kicked out of orphanages to make room for younger, cuter, charges. The truly lucky were taken in by rich families, but those with less luck were taken by foremen and factory-owners to be put to work and paid even less.
As the two made their way down the dirty streets in the dark of night, the lamp-lighters were making their rounds to illuminate them. But most dark corners were simply shadows dancing bout, especially to children. Hansel would often hold Gretel tighter to his side, not wanting to lose her too. Gretel, meanwhile would stumble and slow, much to her brother's chagrin. She would be looking up at the sky, trying to find a star in the blackened skies above, or even the moon. After some time, they arrived at the bakers. Hansel slipped into the bakers shop, having grown tired of dragging his sister about, and quickly bought a loaf of hard-bread. There were even a few pennies left over to save for a rainy day. Hansel hid the money in his good shoe and went outside to find his sister at the end of the scarce street.
"Gretel, what are you doing?" he called out to her. From the looks of it, she was talking to someone, around the corner. Gretel did look to Hansel briefly, but a pale hand, as bright and faultless as a white diamond, turned the simple child's gaze away. Hansel grew nervous, and dashed to his sister. He knew that all kinds of ill-folk were out at night, but Gretel... She was sometimes to simple to be afraid.
As Hansel bore down on them, the hand patted her head, put something in her hand, and slipped away from view. Hansel barreled down and skidded to a stop in front of Gretel, yanking her over to him. "GRETEL! What are you doing? I told you... huff..." Hansel admonished wile breathing heavily. "Don't... Don't talk to strangers!"
Gretel stammered and mumbled out a meek and confused reply, to which Hansel replied, "What?"
Gretel simply held up a glazed sweet-cake, colored varying shades of sweet pinks and reds. Hansel looked at the treasure she held, and salivated at the sight. His better judgment, however, tickled the back of his mind. Dark and twisted folk always hung around at night, doing unspeakable things like making children disappear, or murdering them in cold-blood.
"Isn't it wonderful, brother?" she asked with an innocent look. "She said there's more at her house!"
"Gretel, throw that... away..." he said begrudgingly. "It's not safe."
"But brother..." she whined. "It... it smells so yummy! Just a bite-"
"No, Gretel!" he snapped, growing too weary for the nonsense from his sister. He slapped the cake onto the streets and out of her hands. He stood for a moment, watching his sister tear up. "I'm sorry..."
Gretel looked down at the dirty streets where the cake lay, and childishly stuck her dirty thumb in her mouth. She sniffled at the taste. Some of the sweet, sugary confection stuck to it, making her belly growl at it's absence. She looked up at street sign, gears turning and clicking in her head. Just as Hansel reached for her hand, Gretel turned and ran off into the night, leaving Hansel behind...
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