Meat Feast

A fairy tale inspired by Philip Pullman and the Grimm brothers.

A butcher stood in the window of his shop looking out onto the vibrant, noisy street. People were dancing and shouting through the village preparing for the summer festival. But the butcher did not care for joining the throngs of people, instead he remained in his quiet shop window. His favourite cleaver had been stolen and now he could not enter the annual cleaver throwing tournament.

"Don't worry boss, it'll turn up!" said his assistant

"It's them at Meat Feast what done it. Jealous of my talent." The butcher mumbled back.

Meat Feast was the only other butchers in the village, on the other side of the river. He decided they must have taken it to scupper his chances of winning another cleaver throwing title.

"I have to take this hock down to Old Ma at the edge of the wood." the assistant said suddenly. 

This gave the butcher an idea and quicker than his assistant could blink he took the hock and dashed to the van. Old Ma was a crooked old woman who many whispered about and told of her twisted magic.

The butcher rapped on the door, out of breath with anticipation.

"What a surprise, the manager himself delivering to Old Ma!" The woman exclaimed at the sight of him.

"Afternoon Ma. Thought I would bring this fine piece of meat to you myself today."

"Thank you. One moment I shall fetch your payment." Old Ma replied.

"Actually Ma, I was hoping for a favour in place of money," the butcher began "my favourite cleaver has disappeared, I'm sure those lads at Meat Feast have stolen it. I was hoping you could help me out."

Old Ma looked long and hard at the butcher, he waited for her to answer patiently.

"What exactly is it that you want?" she eventually asked.

"I just want me cleaver back." he pleaded

"Then it shall be." she said and turned to retreat inside.

"Wait, is that it? Do you not need to do a spell?" The butcher asked puzzled.

"No. Just wait and see." she croaked and disappeared.

Feeling confused but confident in Old Ma's magic the butcher returned to his shop happy and hopeful.

Three days passed and it was the day of the festival, still there was no sign of the butchers cleaver.

"Stupid Old hag! She isn't magic at all!" The butcher raged. "I shall go and get my cleaver myself!" 

With that he ran from his shop all the way to Meat Feast, demanding they return his property. The butchers threw him out into the road, covering his apron in mud and laughed at him.

"We haven't got your battered old cleaver, ours are new and sharp." They shouted.

Furious and humiliated the butcher turned to the taverna and drank until darkness settled. Covered in dry mud he staggered through the crowds gathered around the village, weaving in and out of games and market stalls. Escaping the noise he crossed the fields towards his home. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his back and fell to the ground. His assistant was soon by his side.

"What were you doing wandering around in the dark!" he asked, panicked.

"My back!" The butcher shouted "Why does it hurt?"

"I struck you with your cleaver, you wandered into the target field old man!" his assistant replied.

"My cleaver? Why do you have it?" the butcher shouted.

"I wanted to win you a brand new one, like the ones at Meat Feast." the assistant admitted. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, it was to be a surprise!"

With this the butcher coughed and died in the arms of his assistant.

"All he wanted was his cleaver back." The assistant cried.

"And he got it, didn't he." a voice croaked in the darkness.

Meat Feast Copyright of Lucy Marsh 28.01.13