The Mischievous G-Man

Don’t think for a second that every fairy tale you’ve heard is the actual history of the event. As a matter of fact, very few will hold up to a real examination of the facts. One of those tales, The Gingerbread Man, has been so falsely portrayed it is a wonder it has lasted so long. Let’s get to the real story and fix this tale for good.

G-man was a legend in his own time. He had survived his original bake by an old woman living in the forest, ran away from the lumberjacks with their axes, survived a soggy swim crossing a shallow creek and being run over by a Greyhound bus at the edge of town. But after all those life-threatening events, some quick footed kids finally caught up with him, took him to their house and shoved him in a microwave oven. He became so brittle that he started breaking apart limb by limb. First it was his arms and then his legs. His head was last to go. That made a total of six pieces lying there on the counter seemingly in desperation.

Thankfully the kids mother showed up just in time to keep snack time from happening in the Kipple house. She carefully picked up and laid each piece in a shoe box, closed the lid, and called 911. She was told to take the box to a sweet shop on Third and Main called The Sweet Shop. Someone there would know what to do.

As soon as the operator hung up the phone, she called the local FBI office and reported what she knew. The agent took down the information and told her not to tell anyone else about the call.

Mrs. Kipple arrived at the downtown eatery sandwiched between the First National Bank and Pam’s Beauty Salon at about 4:30 p.m. The owner was just finishing her cleanup from the day’s sales when the door opened, clicking a brass bell overhead. She turned to see a woman dressed in a yellow gingham dress, her hair in pig tails and wearing flip flops. She had a box under her arm and was moving slowly through the door, as if she was carrying something very precious.

“Can I help you, miss?” asked the proprietor.

“I sure hope so. I was told to come to this store for help. I don’t have a clue what to do and this could be a life-or-death matter,” said Kipple. “I have in this box the one and only, Mr. Gingerbread Man.”

They looked at each other anxiously for a moment and then they heard a soft giggle bubbling from inside the store. They looked around the colorful room at all the displays and saw dozens of candied figurines, cakes of every shape and size and cookies of all kinds. A very slight motion caught their eyes coming from the second shelf behind the cash register. A row of gingerbread figures was lined up on the pink and white shelves. All the figures were stifling a good-hearted giggle trying not to burst out in laughter.

“I guess I should have warned you about these guys,” said the store owner. “They can be pretty opinionated when it comes to things like cookies having a life. They’ve heard about this special confectionary, the G-Man, and they don’t like the fact he is getting all the publicity.”

“I called the local authorities and was told that you would know what to do. Do you have a special method to put gingerbread back together when they are broken?” she asked.

“I only bake them and that’s if they are not broken in the mold. But I have seen a YouTube video that tells how to use a certain food glue to reattach pieces that come apart. By the way, before we go any further, I must admit I received a call from the FBI before you arrived and was told to keep you busy until they got here,” as she moved to lock the front door.

Mrs. Kipple seemed startled by the news and the sudden lack of control over the situation. “Are you telling me that the FBI thinks I am a threat because I have a broken gingerbread man in a shoebox?”

“I don’t know why but I get the feeling this thing is serious,” she said leaning against the door.

Just then there was a knock, and a man pressed an official badge against the window pain. “Ladies, I’m Gerard Lincoln with the FBI. Please let me in?”

Sara Pollster, the store owner, turned and unlocked the deadbolt. “I did what you asked, Gerry.”

“Thank you for your assistance, Sara,” he said with authority. “Mrs. Kipple, I am sorry for the inconvenience, but this is a serious matter if what I have heard is true. We have been looking for G-Man, or The Gingerbread Man, for months. It seems last winter that he forced his way into a Christmas Gingerbread House Competition and made quite a scene. He went about tearing off pieces of gingerbread and removing candy decorations from some of the displays. This may seems farfetched, but he has the capacity to grow up to 6 feet tall. It happens when he drinks milk. Without it, he shrinks back to his normal 4 inches in height.”

“He seems so fragile looking right now. I don’t even know if he is alive,” said Mrs. Kipple. “Are you going to take him into custody?”

“That’s right. I will have to take him in for questioning and observation. Sara, do you think you can put him back together?”

“I can try but I’ve never done this before,” she admitted.

“You are probably his best chance at his survival. I don’t have any resources through the agency better qualified to perform the surgery so you might as well give it a try,” he said.

Mrs. Kipple placed the box on the counter and stepped back out of the way. She thought to herself how she was witnessing an historical moment.

Just as the shopkeeper reached for the box, the top flew open and out pop G-Man, back together in one piece and laughing out loud. “Hi-hey, Hi-hey, what a wonderful day! I’m back together and on my way,” sang the cookie. “Hey-hi, Hey-hi, you boys on the shelf. Are you coming with me to enjoy some mischief?”

Without hesitating all the gingerbread men leaped from their display, scurried across the shop’s counters and out the maildrop slit in the door. Last out of the store was the G-Man, still laughing and singing. “Ho-ho, ho-ho, Christmas is coming with all its glee and there will be plenty of milk for me!”

The three humans looked at each other with their mouths open in amazement. What had just happened?

Agent Lincoln turned on his heels and ran out after the gang. Fortunately for him, small bits of cookie crumbs were left in the wake as they headed down the avenue towards city square. Pedestrians scrambled to jump away from the onrush of gingerbread men and to avoid getting crumbs on their clothes.

G-man took the lead and headed around the water fountain, avoiding puddles of water that had splashed onto the walkway. As he reached the end of the park, he turned and waved his arms for the others to stop.

“Quiet now, quiet now, I’m humbled by your loyalty. But if you’re going join my gang, you must understand my magic recipe.

Come in close, now even closer, as I tell you this tale. The old woman who made me lived down in the dale.

She stirred my ingredients together and whipped me up so well, I was light as a feather and with that sweet ginger smell.

The stove was stoked and ready to go, so she scooped me up quickly and tossed in my dough.

While in the oven and baking to perfection, she cast a spell that changed my life beyond expectation.

I could never be eaten or destroyed in any way, so this is how I will always stay.

One more thing that topped it all is the ability to grow as high as six feet tall.

All I have to do is drink a little milk and I tower over most, and that really scares the humans as if they’ve seen a ghost.”

“Wow, we will follow you anywhere G-Man,” screamed one of his new henchmen. The rest of the men nodded and tried to applaud their leader, but of course their hands couldn’t reach each other to make any noise.

He smiled and said “Oh wow, oh wow, OK, let’s go. I have an idea where we can steal the show!” Down the main street and across the back alley they skated to freedom, or so they thought.

Lincoln had radioed into headquarters for backup as he jumped in his car and began the chase. Knowing the cookies would avoid any area with a high population of kids or dogs, the agent theorized his best chances would be at the senior citizens condominium on the hill east of town. “If those dough boys think they can get away from the FBI, that's the Favorite Baked Items agency, they’re only half-baked,” he thought as his car climbed the entrance road to the three-story brick colonial style rest home.

Outside the sweet shop, Sara and Mrs. Kipple were still in shock as they cleaned up the cookie debris left on the sidewalk.

“Do you think the agent will have to use force to apprehend the boys?” Mrs. Kipple. “By the way, please call me Fran.”

“Well, Fran, I’ve known Gerry, I mean Agent Lincoln, for quite a while and I’ve never known him to be overly hostile towards those he has captured. I will say he’s been looking for G-Man since last Christmas so he may be a bit rough if he has to.”

“If only my kids hadn’t been so quick to catch him, we wouldn’t be involved in this at all,” said Fran as she brushed off her flip flops and straightened her dress. “I guess you have to make more gingerbread men for your store now?”

“I don’t think I will ever bake another gingerbread cookie as long as I live. I never did like that creepy smile they had anyway,” said Sara as she mimicked the smiles she had created.

“Looks like a parade of dark cars coming this way,” said Joe. “Is this a holiday or did someone else die this week?”

“I think the last time I saw that many cars with their lights flashing was when O.J. Simpson was being followed in that white Ford Bronco. Things didn’t work out for him, did they,” answered his wife, Brenda.

Agent Lincoln led the line of black sedans into the parking lot and surrounding grounds. Inside the Tree Top Retirement Condominium residents had gathered in Commons Hall for a holiday celebration of punch, coffee, soda, milk, cake, ice cream and of course cookies. There were oatmeal raisin cookies, snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies and everyone’s favorites, gingerbread men.

More than 100 residents were gathered in the hall enjoying their party when FBI agents sneaked in through every doorway. Instead of waving their guns in the air, the agents were holding plastic bags and wearing surgical gloves.

“Don’t be alarmed everyone,” said Agent Lincoln. “We are only here for the cookies! Many of them may try to flee from this party before you get a chance to taste them.”

“The weirdest party I have ever been to, and I was around for Woodstock,” said a white-haired resident in a wheelchair. “Do you think they laced the brownies again,” to no one in particular.

Agent Lincoln was right. The escapees had made their way to the Tree Top and were trying to blend into the surroundings. The gingerbread cookie display featured a forest theme with a rustic cabin and chimney. Smoke was billowing from the fireplace that had the smell of gingerbread. Suddenly, the cabin door opened with gingerbread men marching out in formation. Leading the pack was none other than G-Man.

“Hey, now. Hey, now. I like this place. This may be my new home base.” G-man exclaimed. All the other gingerbread men followed him around the table and danced over the cotton balls used as fake snow. They had even started singing an old Christmas song about plum pudding.

Suddenly, G-Man stopped in his tracks and the others collided into each other like dominos toppling over. Agent Lincoln had crept up to the end of the display table and had his chin resting on the plywood frame making him at eye level with G-Man.

“Well, well, little man. Not so big and terrifying now, are you? Don’t even think about diving into a glass of milk, wise guy,” Lincoln said with a wide grin on his face.

“Look here, look here, you agent of authority. I’m just having a little fun with this group of seniority. No harm, no foul, if you know what I mean, cause we’re just digging this groovy scene.”

“That may be true for now, G-Man, but I know your wicked ways and I’m here to stop them from happening from now on,” said Lincoln. “As a matter of fact, I have someone special with me that is a current resident at Tree Top and she wants to meet you, again!”

G-man looked up and standing behind the agent was the old women from the cabin in the forest. Both thrilled and horrified, the cookie stumbled back over the other gingerbread men that had toppled to the floor of the display.

“Hello, my darling,” she said with a sad frown on her lips. “I was hoping to see you again, but I never thought you would be in so much trouble. It was my wish that you would live an exciting life with lots of fun adventures and making children happy every Christmas season. Perhaps my spell was too strong for such a small mix of ingredients like you, and I should have used it on that little girl instead of giving her the poison apple. Anyway, those days are long past, and I enjoy playing cards and knitting blankets with my friends here at the rest home.”

G-man struggled to his feet and thought about his next escape move. “Oh my, oh my, my dear sad mother. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings and embarrass my fellow brothers. Gee whiz, gee whiz, looks like it’s the curtains for me, I guess I’ll give up and never see another Christmas tree.”

As the other agents surrounded the gingerbread men, the old woman pulled Agent Lincoln to the side and whispered in his ear. “If you will hand my baby over to me, I would be very appreciative. I think what I am planning will satisfy you and your agency. Here’s what I plan to do,” she said, and she laid out her agenda for the G-Man and his hench men.

Lincoln took a moment to digest the plan and finally agreed he would take responsibility for the negotiation. He then gathered his fellow agents in one corner of the hall and updated everyone on what the plan would be. They were all in agreement, put away their gloves and bags, and headed out of the building.

Lincoln was the last to leave. As he did so, he stopped at the door and mimicked the gingerbread men by waving his arms and almost clapping his hands. “See you at the dessert bar, boys!”

The old woman stepped back from the display. The other senior residents stepped back as well not knowing what was going to happen next. They had known the old woman for just a few weeks but thought of her as a nice and kind lady. Little did they know what power she truly possessed.

As she closed her eyes the smoke from the display cabin began to expand, get thicker and spread across the entire room. The residents didn’t know whether to run or hide. “Shsss,” whispered the old woman as she started to move toward the gingerbread display. “Please don’t move around until the smoke has cleared.”

The smoke billowed for another minute and then disappeared as rapidly as it had begun. Everyone took a deep breath and suddenly could see what had happened. All the gingerbread men, including G-Man, were lying face up on the table.

“Now folks, I wouldn’t be too quick to choose these little guys for dessert. They may look like they are cooked and ready to eat but in truth they will be the worst cookies you have ever tasted. I used one of my old spells from ancient times to turn them into stone. They will no longer be making mischief around here or anywhere else.”

The crowd looked at her and at each other in amazement. They were still curious about the cookies and wanted to take a close look.

“She’s right,” said the same old man who had been at Woodstock. “They are hard as a rock, but they still have a smile on their face. Ha, if that don’t beat all I ever seen. That’s saying a lot after living in the 1960’s.”

G-Man was laying closest to the edge of the display. The old woman picked him up and wrapped him a napkin. She then turned and made her way to the door. Just as she got to the exit, her little man moved his head in her hands. “Shssss….be quiet and don’t move,” she said. “I’ll get you to a safe place soon.”

A promise is a promise and most decent folks will hold to their promises. But when it comes to the old woman in the forest, a promise means nothing to her. As soon as she got back to the privacy of her own rooms, G-Man was released, and they both started dancing for joy.

“I can’t believe you’re back in my life again,” said the old woman. “Why did you want to leave our cabin in the forest, anyway?”

“Oh, Mother. Oh, Mother. I had to run away. The lumberjacks were going to eat me if I tried to stay.”

“Oh dear, that’s not what was going to happen at all. They were there to protect you from the animals in the woods. You didn’t give me a chance to explain what was happening before you slipped away in the dead of night. After you had cooled off on the baker’s rack, you and I would have planned all kinds of fun things to do. We would have played with the Wolf and the Three Little Pigs, chased Little Red Riding Hood out of the forest, stole Jack’s beans, cut off Rapunzel’s hair, and tricked the Seven Dwarfs into handing over Snow White to my cousin the Evil Queen. Just think how much fun that would have been!”

“But now you have to be on your best behavior because I told that FBI agent I would personally make sure you never caused trouble again,” she said. “That’s why I kept you alive when I cast a deadly spell on the other gingerbread men. They will all be used as Christmas ornaments on the tree instead of getting into anymore mischief. But you will stay by my side and care for me for the rest of my life. We will move back to the forest and the old cabin and be a part of folklore. If you behave and don’t try to run away, I’ll even let you grow tall again so you can really help with the chores. What do you think about that?”

“Are you kidding lady?” he said. “Not only have you kept me alive, but you took that awful rhythmic chattering out of my mouth. I don’t intend to sit, stand, or do chores in the middle of some forest while there’s a great big crazy world out there for me. Sister, I may see you again sometime, but don’t be looking for some cookie crumbling away at life. I’ll put on a fine suit of clothes, get a job, rent an apartment, and dance the nights away. As a matter of fact, I may run for office. If a dog or a cat or a chicken or a donkey can be elected, I have a good chance at being the next mayor somewhere. You know, I’m not just some cookie from the cookie jar!”

All at once, G-man fled from the old woman’s kitchen, through the apartment, out the sliding door to the balcony and slid down the drainpipe. He hit the pavement running and darted into the nearby hills above the building.

As he ran off, you could hear him laughing and singing “Run, run just as fast as you can. You can’t catch me I’m the Gingerbread Man!”

*The End*