Hamelin

Hamelin

  by Eric Marcelo

  Copyright 2015 by Eric Marcelo

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  FROM THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER I

  She was walking near the center of town when she saw him. He was wearing the multicolored costume of the actors for the festival. He looked lost, however, as he turned around while walking. A visitor. Perhaps he needs to be turned in the right direction, she thought. She approached him and tapped him on the arm.

  The man whirled around and faced her, a suspicious expression filling his face. He seemed to be about thirty years old, five feet seven inches tall, not thin but fit, and had red hair peeking out of his multicolored hat. He had a thin mustache, a goatee, and brown eyes.

  "Are you lost?" she asked, smiling up at him. "Are you here for the festival?"

  The man didn't answer immediately, as if weighing his words carefully before speaking. "I am somewhat lost," he answered slowly, looking around again before continuing, "I haven't been here in a long time."

  "Well," the girl said, "part of my job is to help people find their way around our town. Where do you want to go?"

  Still, the man kept turning around, "I guess I would like to see the mayor."

  The girl's face brightened up even more. "Really? I can take you to him, though he might be a little busy today. He usually is during the festival."

  The man turned to look at her again, this time as if considering if he should accept her offer. After another look around, he nodded. "That is very kind of you..."

  "Emiline." She held out her hand, which the man shook. "What's your name?"

  "Pfeifer," he answered with some hesitation. "Thank you for helping me, Emiline."

  "It's my job and I'm glad to do it. We have lots of visitors during the festivals. They need someone to guide them."

  "How old are you, Emiline?" he asked examining her from head to foot.

  "I'm ten years old. I'm in the fifth grade in my school. We're on vacation right now and school won't start until August."

  Pfeifer nodded as they began to walk toward what he assumed would be town hall. It was a slow walk for he kept turning around and once stopped to watch as a fellow, dressed as he was, pranced by with a fife to his lips, followed by little children who were laughing and happily skipping along behind.

  "You're going to be doing that too, aren't you?"

  Pfeifer looked at Emiline with a shocked expression. He was speechless for a few moments but regained his composure quickly.

  "I guess I might, depending on what the mayor says," he answered.

  "You must be a special actor if the mayor himself hired you," Emiline observed. "I don't understand why he didn't have you fetched by a car. It would have saved you from being lost."

  Again, there was that hesitation as Pfeifer seemed to be thinking of what to say. He apparently came to a decision and asked his little guide. "What is this festival you are celebrating?"

  It was Emiline's turn to be shocked. "You don't know? How very strange. Everyone knows the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. You've never heard of it?"

  When Pfeifer shook his head, Emiline took a deep breath and began, "Well..."

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  CHAPTER II

  Back in 1284, the town of Hamelin was plagued by rats. They were everywhere; in the cupboards, the closets, on the beds, the chairs, there was no place where the rats scurried around. They ate the people's food, bit holes in their clothes, bit the adults, bit the children, and bored holes in the walls. The mayor hired rat catchers from all around but none of them could catch all the rats. There were just too many of them.

  One day, a man who called himself, the Pied Piper, came into town. He was a strange-looking man. He wore multicolored garb with a multicolored cape and hat. The mayor and the townspeople thought him to be eccentric. He offered to solve Hamelin's problem with the rats.

  No one really believed him. He had no traps, no lures, no animals that would eat the rats. Besides, with clothes such that he was wearing, they probably thought he was a jester.

  The mayor decided the man was somewhat crazy and decided to humor him.

  "What is your price for doing the job, sir?" he asked.

  "My price is one hundred pieces of gold," the man answered.

  Everyone shook their heads at the price but the mayor played along.

  "I would gladly pay five hundred, but one hundred pieces of gold it is."

  The man moved to the town square, followed by the mayor and the townspeople. They wanted to see the man make a spectacle of himself. Then, the Pied Piper took out a little fife, pressed it to his lips, and began to play.

  It was a strange and hypnotic tune. What's more was that everyone in the crowd could hear it no matter how far away they were from the Piper.

  Just when they were thinking of jeering, they heard a rumble like distant rolling thunder. It began to get louder and louder, and the ground vibrated as if there was an earthquake. Soon, the people saw what it was.

  The rats! Thousands of them began coming out of the houses and buildings, out of the trees and the sewers. Big rats, small rats, black rats, brown rats, all of them began to gather around the Pied Piper, seemingly listening to the music he was making. When he was satisfied that all the rats were around him, he started to walk toward the River Weser. The rats followed him, and the crowd followed them in wonder and awe.

  At the river's edge, he climbed onto a boat and pushed himself off to the middle of the waterway. The rats, unable to stop themselves, followed him into the water and, enraptured by the Pied Piper's music, drowned until none were left.

  The people cheered and celebrated.

  "Now, we can go back to a normal life!" they exclaimed.

  The Piper, who had come back to the river bank said, "Before you do, please pay me my one hundred pieces of gold."

  The people, especially the mayor, were shocked into silence.

  "No," they said, "one hundred pieces of gold is too high a price for such a simple task. You hardly broke a sweat." Everyone agreed that ten pieces of gold would suffice as payment, in fact, they thought they were being generous.

  The Pied Piper looked at them with anger and displeasure in his eyes. He whirled around and left the town, never looking back. The townspeople and the mayor were glad they didn't have to pay anything.

  Life went back to normal for Hamelin. On June 26 of the same year, the town was celebrating the feast of St. John and St. Paul. All but a few adults were in the church, hearing mass. Then, a man entered the town.

  It was the Pied Piper. He was no longer wearing his multicolored clothes but, instead, wore a green hunting garb and a red hat. He went to the town square, took out his fife and began to play.

  It was a gay and happy tune. Unlike the previous song, however, it was not for the rats...it was for the children of Hamelin.

  Every child above four years of age, began to come out of the houses. The few adults who were with them, could do nothing and stood or sat petrified. The little ones began to gather around the Piper, dancing around him. Soon there were 131 of them and the Piper began walking, not toward the river, but toward the mountains outside of town.

  Throug
h the gates and through the roads, the children danced and skipped behind the Piper who continued to play his magic fife. At the foot of Koppelberg Hill, the mountainside opened and the Pied Piper walked in. The children followed and, when the last one had entered, the mountainside closed behind them. All the children were gone...except one.

  A lame child had not been able to keep up. After the mountainside had closed and the Piper's music could no longer be heard, the spell was broken and he made his way back to town and told everyone.

  All the parents were hysterical.

  "Our children! Where are our children?" they shouted to no avail. The children were nowhere to be found. They were never seen again.

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