The Red Cave
Welcome to another adventure from the Thousand Acre Woods. A place on the edge of Trollheim deep within the mysterious NJ Pine Belt! Tales Chronicled by Christopher Jonathan Hulton...That's me! Today's tale, Helgi and Grams retire to their monthly cave.
After reading our latest story, make sure to tell a friend, and check out our Trollheim books below!
"All right, me and Grams are heading for the cave," Helgi said to Bjorn with a picnic basket in her hand.
"Its that time of the month already; how come Angrboða never comes with you two?" Gramps asked.
"Well she is a teenager, running about, she isn't around long enough to sync up I guess…" Helgi answered.
Grams kissed Gramps on the head and they headed out for Union Clay Works by Peggy's house.
The diggers had a three day holiday, which is strange for the 70s, but these gals had a way to convince their boss it was good to be altruistic. Especially if their choice was coursing with greyhounds with a fluffy white tail…
Inside the mine, there were two alcoves with low hanging storage shelves suitable for two Troll ladies. The shelves were cleared of the tools and buckets, dusted, and well presented with chocolates on each. The owners were not taking chances; they only had to be chased once before they became gracious hosts.
Each lady hung fancy embroidered tapestries in front of their respective alcoves and settled in.
When their domiciles were arranged, they met in the foyer where a table was set. Nothing formal,but rustic and cozy. Helgi laid out a antipasto of marinated artichokes and red peppers, exotic olives, a few sapphires and quartz, smoked and peppered krakowska sausage, brown cheese, and three empty goblets.
After a lite snack, they left their buffet and retired to the beach in front of the mine.
The diggers left chaise lounges for them with low tables for their empty goblets and finger foods.
Helgi settled in with a wide brim summer hat with a simple band into her chair. Grams settled in with a similar hat and placed a book down next to her.
."What are you reading?" Grams teased. "Something daring from the Brontes; Jane Austin?"
"Verne."
"You've been watching the stars with Bowker again."
"He loves nothing better than his Venusians; I prefer his terrestrial stories, or even sub-terrestrial tales. Submarines and dirigibles suit me fine."
"So what are you reading?"
"Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Its about this sub being mistaken for a lyngbakr that is sinking Union ships and the scientist sent to investigate along with a drunk harpooner."
Then Peggy walked down from above the mine with a basket filled with bottles of mead and absinthe. She filled the three goblets and sat down in her lounge.
Strange how this Irish lass with fine red hair and alabaster skin never suffered the slings and arrows of the sun that befell most from Hibernia. Then again, I believe her family descended from the Tuath Dé, the people of sídhe.
The fairies….
With her hair falling over her shoulders, she chose a mid-wasted linen chemise and a simple thin shift. The sun gave her a second look and shrugged.
"You know I hate it when Bjorn clips his nails in bed—they always roll onto my side," Helgi complained.
"Well Gramps sits up and files his horns."
"Then there is the snoring…"
"We had to move out of our first home because he inhaled the bedroom wall while he was snoring."
"The advantage with the single life, you can kick them out of the bed when you're done," Peggy chimed in. Bill had been dead for a few years, but he occasionally bugs his wife if she dawdles at the well too long. Bill acts like her personal Mimir, after he died and went to hell. "Then again I do miss the old cuss, he sure did know how to curl my toes…"
The other gals giggled and blushed.
"He would tickle my feet without mercy!" she giggled.
The others shook their heads and moaned oh in harmony.
"Well he was great at that too…"
"When Gramps is dreaming, his tail gets excited and tickles my nose."
"Bjorn's would get rigid and poke me in the stomach."
"Bill, he would poke me in the back with something else…"
The other gals giggled.
"Yeah, but he wouldn't wake up!"
They shook their heads.
"So he would wake up to one hell of a surprise, if I could roll him over."
"I miss him already," Helgi said.
The rest nodded in agreement about their own husbands.
If you like this tale, hit the share button below or just even tell your friend the old fashion way, with your mouth. Come back next week for our next tale.
We are releasing our second collection of Trollheim stories in print, named Trolling About. It will be available on this website at www.salemhousepress.com and Barnes & Noble. Pick up your copy today, pretty please with sugar on top...
Make sure you pick up the first collection of tales too...
Fiction/ Illustrated Fantasy/ Mythology / Scandinavian Myth/ Norse Sagas / Scandinavian Folk Lore / Coffee Table Book
Paperback: $45 | Hardcover: $65 | PDF eBook $5
Buy now link...
Following the Harry N. Abrams, Inc. tradition of the series that created Brian Froud's and Alan Lee's Faeries and Gnomes by Wil Huygen and Rien Poortvliet, we present you with what would have been the next book in the series: Trolls: A Compendium. Trolls—do you think you know what they are? Could you be wrong?
Trolls within Scandinavian lore, myth, saga, fantasy, and folktales are actually anything magical within our northern neighbor's culture. Richly illustrated in this volume are the tales of faeries, dwarves, nissen, huldras, gods, Jotuns, draugar, ghosts, and more. Also, this book introduces our readers to the world of Trollheim, populated by Nattrolls that escaped the 17th-century Swedish colony within the New Jersey Pine Barrens. Narrated by Christopher Jonathan Hulton, who lives in the Thousand Acre Woods just after the Civil War, their tales are filled with Native American lore and tales of their neighbor, the Jersey Devil.
Preview: Google Books
Hardcover: $65.00
PDF (non-flowable, best on tablet, desktop, or laptop) eBook: Download a copy onto your device today! Only $5.00
Share