I wonder if I can grab the key if she’s distracted.

Or asleep. Yeah! It’s bedtime. The sky outside is dark. It must be late.

Maybe I can help her fall asleep?

I’ve tried this before in another fairy tale. Where was I? What did I do? Which fairy tale involves sleep?

Oh! I remember. It was Sleeping Beauty. Sleeping Beauty’s curse got messed up and I had to find another way to put her to sleep. I had tried singing lullabies, and then counting turtles (don’t ask). The turtles worked, but how am I supposed to convince Patty to count turtles? Seems unlikely. Maybe she’ll count pieces of celery. Or smoothies.

Oh! I know! I can make her fall asleep with the smoothie!

When we learned about which vegetables were good for the eyes, we also learned about foods that made you sleepy. But what were they? Warm milk, of course. But there was other stuff, too. Hmm. Some sort of nut. Oh! Almonds! And cherries! And bananas! And oatmeal! All things the witch has in the cottage.

I pour the milk in a mug and heat it up. Then, when it’s warm, I blend it together with everything else, and I hand the witch the mug.

“You seem a little upset,” I tell her. “This should calm you down. It’s very healthy, too.”

“Thank you,” she says. “That’s thoughtful of you. Keep jumping, boy!”

Jonah keeps jumping.

Patty sips her drink. And then she gulps it down. “This is very good,” she says. “Maybe I shouldn’t cook you.”

“No?”

“No. I’ll just eat your brother and keep you around as my personal chef.”

Terrific. Who needs to be a judge? I’ll just be a witch’s cook.

Patty puts the cup on the table and starts rocking back and forth in the chair.

I wait. How can I hurry this along?

Maybe I should hum.

Yes. That always helps.

“Hmm,” I hum softly. “Hmmmm hmmmm hmmm …”

Patty settles back in her chair and closes her eyes. It’s working! It’s working!

She sighs happily.

“Hmm, hmm, hmmm …” I hum. As soon as she falls asleep, I’ll get the key and free Jonah from the cage, and then maybe Jonah can give me a boost up to unlock the door. It’ll work. It has to.

“Why are you singing?” the witch asks.

“Um … ’cause I like to sing?”

“Wait a second,” she says, sitting up straight. “You’re singing me a lullaby! And you warmed up my milk! You’re trying to get me to fall asleep, aren’t you? Then you’re going to try to steal the key to escape!”

“No,” I say very unconvincingly.

She jumps out of the chair, and her giant bony hand grips my wrist.

“Into the cage with you!” she shouts, dragging me over. She feels around in front of her, unlocks the cage, opens the door, and throws me in, then locks it.

“But, but, but … who will make your smoothies?” I cry.