Gideon chuckled as he walked away from the prostrate rabbit he had just scratched. He and Travis Delver, his ferret companion then went towards the midway, intent to use the tickets he had just pilfered from a sheep, and stuck in his pocket.
Once he had made up his mind which ride he was going to go on first, his paw went to the pocket to retrieve the tickets. They were gone. "Son of a..." He turned around and went back to where the scuffle had occurred. The rabbit Judy and her friends were gone. No tickets on the ground. They must have fallen out and they retrieved them. That was the only way. Gideon growled as he realized his afternoon of fun was dashed.
"Gideon! Gideon Grey!" He heard his mother's voice calling him. He sighed in resignation.
"Ah gotta go, Travis." He left his partner in crime to head to his mother's voice.
When he got there she had a stern look on her face. "Where have you been? Ah've been lookin' for you everywhere. Ah leave you at the Pageant Showcase, in order to be at the pie judgin’ and when Ah come back, you're nowhere to be found."
"Did you win, Maw?" Gideon asked. It was one of the few things his mother found any joy in.
She sighed. "Never you mind, we're goin' home." Gideon could see the white ribbon signifying a third place finish hanging from her basket. His heart fell. She had been working so hard that summer too, trying different pie recipes and letting Gideon sample them, all the while trying to keep the house going. The little she made taking in laundry kept them fed, but the overalls he wore were only one of two sets of clothes he owned, the other being a suit that they got at a secondhand store, so he would have something to wear on Sundays.
Gideon never knew who his father was. That seemed typical of fox society. While rabbits, which were the primary species in Bunnyburrow, formed tight families when two rabbits married, foxes did not, the kits almost always being raised by the mother alone. Nobody thought that strange. Many species, such as the different bears abandoned the wandering male template to form two parent families, but for some reason foxes had not done that. And with the absent fathers came the unruly sons, as their mothers, intent on trying to maintain the house and raise the kits, found it impossible to keep an eye on them all the time.
So it was with Gideon. With no male role model in his species he simply found out from others what foxes were supposed to be like: shiftless, sneaky, aggressive to those weaker, and untrustworthy. That seemed to be the biggest impression. So, Gideon tried to be that. But frankly, the more he tried, the more it seemed he didn't fit that mold. Deep down, he felt that he was supposed to be something else.
As he got older, Gideon’s mother seemed to become weaker, and she asked Gideon to help her with the chores around the house, letting him put the laundry on the line to dry, even though he could barely reach the clothesline. She also let him measure out the ingredients for the different pie and pastry recipes. Gideon found that despite these being what he had been told to be “girl’s stuff”, especially for foxes, he enjoyed his time with his mother, despite what he saw as her continuing debilitation.
- * - * -
He was taking in clothes from the line one day after school when Travis Delver, his ferret friend, scurried up.
“Hey, Gid! You didn’t meet me after school. Third day in a row. What’s up, man?”
“Sorry, Travis. Ah gotta help my maw with the laundry.”
“Laundry? Why you doin’ that? You getting all girly on me?”
“Come on, Travis. My maw’s sick, okay? Ah’m just helpin’ her out.”
Travis watched as Gideon kept taking clothes off the line. He then lifted the basket and was going to take it inside when Travis spoke up. “You know, there’s a rumor going around that you’ve become a mama’s boy.”
“Yeah? So what?”
“Well, some are even sayin’ you may be...you know...gay.”
Gideon dropped the basket and grabbed Travis by the collar. “Who’s sayin’ that? Who? You better tell or take it back!”
“Y-you know….the other guys!”
“You tell ‘em to shut up, or ah’ll shut them up myself!”
Travis pulled himself away from Gideon’s grasp. “Geez, Gid, what’s gotten into you?”
Just then Gideon’s mother called. “Gideon? Who are you talkin' to? Did you finish the clothes?”
“Comin’ Maw!” He turned to Travis. “Get out of here! And you tell them Ah ain’t gay.” He picked up the basket and went into the house. He carried it to the bedroom where his mother was, sitting on the bed sewing a small tear in one of the clothes recently dried.
“Who was that, Gideon?”
“Aw, that was just Travis.” He started folding the laundry as his mother had shown him and putting them in neat piles. Finally he asked, “Maw….am Ah gay?”
She stopped sewing and looked at him. “Now where did you hear that? Travis? You pay no attention to that, boy. Ain’t nothin' wrong with a son helpin' out his mother.”
Gideon smiled and went back to folding.
He dropped out of high school shortly after that incident. Partly because his grades were slipping, but mostly to take care of his ailing mother. She seemed so tired all the time and it was getting harder and harder to do enough laundry to keep them fed and clothed. Gideon helped out as best he could, by taking over the food preparation for them, but finding the money for food was getting difficult. Laundry just was not his forte, and customers were complaining about stains left in the clothes, or too much detergent residue.
His mother continued to grow weaker, but she refused to see a doctor, since doctors cost money. She relied on Gideon to do more and more of the work around the house, while she simply did the washing, leaving Gideon to hang and fold.
- * - * -
He was out, hanging the laundry for his mother a few years later, while she lay down, exhausted from having washed them. As he did so, he heard a bit of a commotion from the side of the house. Curious, he went to investigate.
There, with two larger wolves, was Travis, spray painting something on the side of his house.
“Hey! What’re you doin’?” shouted Gideon.
Travis dropped the spray can and ran. The two wolves, who were bigger than Gideon, sneered at him. “Faggot…” one said. Then the two slowly left.
Gideon then read the message emblazoned on the house: “Gideon is a fagg…” That was as far as Travis had gotten before being interrupted.
It took Gideon over an hour with an old can of paint, that clashed horribly with the color of the house to cover the graffiti. But it was at least gone. He then finished hanging the laundry, and went back in the house.
“Ah’m finished, Maw. What’s next?”
Silence.
“Maw?”
Silence.
Gideon went into the bedroom. His mother lay face down on the floor, unmoving. Gideon went and shook her.
“Maw? Wake up. Maw? MAW!!!” He shook her vigorously. “MAW!! WAKE UP!!!”
Gideon dashed to the phone and dialed the operator. “You gotta help me! Ah think my maw is sick!”
A raccoon deputy arrived first. The ambulance arrived minutes later. Gideon directed them to the bedroom. One of the EMTs pointed to the deputy, then Gideon. “Get him out of here.” The whine of the defibrillator rose quickly.
The deputy took Gideon by the arm. “Come on, son. You don’t want to see this.”
As he was lead down the hall and out the door, he heard one of the EMTs shout, “CLEAR!” followed by a thump. It happened again not a few seconds later.
“Is she gonna be okay?” Gideon asked.
The deputy sighed. “You need something to drink or eat?” was all he said.
One of the EMTs left the house, and brought the stretcher in. About a minute later, it came out with something on it, completely covered with a sheet.
Gideon stared. “No.”
“Come on, son. We can’t do anything more here.”
Gideon shook his head, vigorously. “No, No! NONONONONONO!!!!” He broke away from the deputy and just ran down the street as fast as he could.
- * - * -
With nowhere to go, Gideon found places to hide at night, mostly barns and storage sheds. He couldn’t go home. There was nothing left for him there. He had no idea what to do, or where to go. So, he simply hid out and slept a lot.
He did manage to find the local cemetery one night, simply trying to find a place to sleep, and noticed a freshly dug grave. It was marked with a simple wooden cross with a name--Dorothy Grey.
Gideon started sobbing. “What am Ah supposed to do, Maw? Ah need you! And now Ah’m all alone. What do Ah do? You gotta help me. Please…” He nestled up against the cross, trembling, and fell into a fitful sleep, his dreams filled with disturbing images.
He awoke some hours later, curled up by the cross. He needed to go hide again, and managed to find a spot in the woods nearby, where he could stay until nightfall, and find a better place to sleep. His plans changed though when his hunger made him venture out in search of something to eat. Darting from one building to another, trying to remain unseen in the night, he finally spied what looks like a vegetable warehouse. No lock, thank goodness. He stealthily slipped inside.
Once the door was securely closed again, he took in the earthy smell, but noticed a sweet scent of blueberries as well. Following it, he found a whole tray filled with pints of blueberries. Gideon sat down and grabbed one, cramming the berries in his mouth, then getting a look of sheer ecstasy on his face. He ate more slowly after the first mouthful, savoring the wonderful flavor.
- * - * -
“GYAHH!”
He was jolted awake by the shock of a fox taser. He had apparently fallen asleep and it was now morning. There before him was Stu Hopps looking as angry as he had ever seen him.
“Darn fox...think you can just come and go where you like? Take what you like?”
Gideon put up his paws to shield himself. “No, please Mr. Hopps, Ah didn’t GYAAHH!!”
Stu gave Gideon another jolt. “Don’t you go raising your claws at me, you hooligan! You thought you were dealing with a defenseless, carrot-farming, dumb bunny, didn’t you? Hah! Surprise surprise! You’re not gonna get a chance to eat any of my kids.”
“No! Ah wouldn’t! Ah would never GYAAAAHH!”
“Don’t you lie to me!”
“We’ll take it from here, Mr. Hopps.” Two deputies were behind Stu Hopps, a raccoon and a skunk. The raccoon approached Gideon. “Easy there son. I’ve been looking for you for several days.”
“Please...Ah won’t hurt nobody...Ah promise…” Gideon trembled, with tears in his eyes.
“I know, son. I know.”
“Don’t trust him, Deputy, he’s a fox! You know how they are!”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Hopps. We can handle this. Thanks for calling us. You can put the taser away now.”
The raccoon deputy offered his paw to Gideon. “Come on, son. We’ll take you somewhere safe where you can get a hot meal and a shower, and some decent sleep, all right?”
“Yeah! Lock him up! Teach him a lesson!” Stu interjected.
The deputies ignored him. “Don’t worry. Nobody will hurt you now, son.”
Gideon hesitantly took the raccoon’s paw, and stood up.
“I have to put these on you...it’s regulation.” The deputy took out a pair of pawcuffs.
Gideon allowed it. He didn’t want any more trouble.
When he was taken to the deputy’s vehicle, the skunk continued to talk to Stu Hopps, getting more detail. The raccoon opened the back door. “I’ll remove the cuffs if you promise not to run, all right?”
Gideon nodded, trembling in abject fear and shame. The cuffs came off, and he dejectedly got into the car. The deputy closed the door.
Gideon broke into sobs.
True to their word, Gideon was taken to the Sheriff's building, given a meal, and a chance to shower. He had to change into an orange jumper that was much too big for him, but by then, he didn’t care. Nothing mattered now.
They put him in a holding cell. “I hate to do this to you. You don’t deserve this. But at least you can get some decent sleep.”
Gideon didn’t have to be told twice. He got onto the cot, which was much softer and warmer than any place he had slept on in days, and quickly fell asleep.
- * - * -
He woke, many hours later, to the smell of cricket stew. “Ah, finally. Eat up, son. You have a visitor, when you finish.” Gideon found the bowl with a spoon and ate ravenously. While he was finishing a figure approached the cell.
“Gideon? Is that your name?”
He looked at the figure. A female honey badger from the look of her. He simply nodded.
She smiled. “You can call me Madge. How are you feeling?”
“All right…” Gideon did not sound very convincing.
“Hmmm….I’m very sorry about your mother.”
Gideon said nothing, but simply finished his meal.
“Care to talk about it?”
“No.”
“That’s all right. So, why did you break into Mr. Hopps’ storage shed?”
“Ah didn’t break in. It was unlocked.”
“My mistake. You must have been very hungry.”
Gideon looked down at the floor. “Ah didn’t mean to steal. But…”
“Don’t worry...I should tell you that the deputy convinced Mr. Hopps not to press charges on so small a thing. We just need to get you help. Would you like help getting your life back together?”
Gideon looked up. “Ain’t nobody can help me. Ah’m just a faggot.”
“Who says you’re that?”
“Ever’body.”
“Did your mother say you were?”
“...no…”
“Well, then everybody doesn’t say that. So, who did?”
“My friends.”
“Those don’t sound like very good friends to me. Tell me: do you have feelings for other males?”
“...no…”
“Then you’re not what they called you, are you?”
“Ah guess not.”
“See? I helped you already. Now, will you give me a chance to help you further?”
Gideon thought for a long time. “You...you really think Ah’m worth it?”
“Of course. That’s why I’m here.”
“How? Ah don’t got no home, no job...Ah got nothin’.”
“We’ll find you a home. And I’ll be there every step of the way.”
“Who would want me? Ah’m a fox.”
“We already have contact with a coyote couple. They should be able to help.”
- * - * -
Not a few days later, Gideon was brought to a house near the woods close to the border of Bunnyburrow. It wasn’t much, but it was well kept, with a flower garden in front.
He’d been given a new set of clothes that almost fit. He looked quite presentable.
Doctor Honey Badger put a paw on Gideon’s shoulder as she rang the doorbell. “Don’t be afraid. They already know you’re coming.”
The door was opened by a female coyote, who smiled. “Gideon, so good to see you again. You probably don’t remember me. I knew your mother. We met at the Carrot Festival.”
Gideon looked up. “You...you make pies?”
She smiled. “Sometimes, but I specialized in cakes and cupcakes. Your mother was far better at pies than I. We have your room all ready.”
He was shown in, and sure enough, a small room had been prepared for him. It wasn’t much. The furniture was obviously secondhand but it was better than anything he had ever had before. Gideon didn’t care. To him, this was close to paradise.
He smiled, for the first time in weeks.
- * - * -
He started getting lessons from a tutor, to help him get caught up with his studies, which his dropping out left his severely behind his peers. Even then, he was never that good at them.
The Rascals were very patient with Gideon, though. He didn’t require much supervision, and seemed eager to help around the house, much to Mrs. Rascal’s delight. Mr. Rascal, when he wasn’t working, took great delight in taking Gideon out to places he used to go alone.
Such as the lake that he would frequent on Saturdays, just to sit, fish, and think. Mr. Rascal took Gideon with him, and they often held conversations that helped Gideon realize just what he missed in his childhood.
“Mr. Rascal?”
“Yes, Gideon?”
“You don’t act much like a coyote.”
“Oh? And how is a coyote supposed to act?”
“You know...sneaky...stealin’ whatever they can...that kind of stuff.”
“And what makes you think that’s how a coyote is supposed to act?”
“That’s what Ah was told when Ah was younger.”
“By whom?”
“By ever’body.”
“Everybody?” Mr. Rascal smiled as he said this, knowing that Gideon would look deeper at what he said.
“Well...all my friends.”
“Your friends...who were sneaky and stole stuff.”
Gideon thought about that. “You didn’t have friends like that when you were a kit?”
“Oh, I sure did. But I also had a dad who knew better.”
Gideon was silent for a while. “What was he like?”
“Who, my father?”
“Yeah...Ah never had one.”
He sighed. “He was very strict. There were days when I was ready to run away. But as I grew older, I learned why he was so strict.”
“Why?”
“Because his own father was killed breaking into someone’s house.”
“Your grandpa was a thief?? Why did he do that?”
“Because that was what coyotes did, right?”
Gideon was quiet for a long time. “And your pa taught ya different?”
“He taught me that you should find out what you do best. Then do that. And to treat others the way you want to be treated.”
Gideon nodded. “Thanks, Mr. Rascal. That...that helps a lot.”
- * - * -
He also continued with weekly sessions with Doctor Honey Badger. These helped him delve into a lot of the emotional problems that needed to be healed.
“So, you actually were rather aggressive as a kit, I’m told. Is that true?” she asked at one of their sessions.
“Yes, ma’am.” Gideon could never bring himself to call her Madge. His mother had taught him to respect his elders. “Ah was just tryin’ to be a fox like ever’one tol’ me.”
“Hmmm...but you and Mr. Rascal are getting along?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am! He’s been teachin' me fishin’ and gardenin’. When he isn’t workin’, that is. He’s works real hard.”
“Yes, well, Bunnyburrow is growing quickly, and there is always a need for landscapers. Have you considered being a landscaper when you grow older?”
“Ah thought about it, but Ah just don’t have the head for it. Ah don’t even do gardens real good.”
“What about Mrs. Rascal? Do you get along with her?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am! She’s been wonderful. She even lets me help with the cookin’ and bakin’.”
“You like that a lot?”
“A whole lot. She says Ah try too hard, though.”
“What do you mean.”
“Well, Ah tried to do the laundry for her one day, because Ah knew how, but she said Ah didn’t have to do that.”
Madge chuckled. “Getting back to your aggressiveness...you really don’t seem like the aggressive type. You seem very unsure of yourself.”
Gideon paused. “Ah really don’t know what Ah am.”
“Well, that can certainly be frustrating. Sounds to me like you had a lot of self-doubt that manifested itself in the form of unchecked rage and aggression. And the suggestions of your peers that being a bully was what foxes did didn’t help.”
“Ah was a major jerk, weren’t Ah?”
“Wasn’t. But you weren’t entirely to blame. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
- * - * -
Gideon stayed with the Rascals even after he turned 18. He still had not caught up on his education. But at this point, it seemed a lost cause. Mostly though, he had not found any real gainful employment.
The Rascals didn’t mind. He was neat, courteous, and kept his room clean.
Gideon, however, began to insist that he help earn his keep, so Mr. Rascal took him to work with him, and had him hold tools, or hand him seedlings, doing more of the heavy lifting, too. It also keep Gideon from thinking too much about the past, and try to think of his future.
The years passed, and Gideon spent a lot of time helping his foster parents, all the while trying to find the one thing he was good at.
Gideon was busy in the kitchen early in morning, when his foster mother came in. “Gideon, what are you doing up? I heard the noise and wondered.”
“Oh, Ah’m sorry, Mrs. Rascal, Ah...Ah couldn’t sleep, so, Ah thought Ah would make you somethin’ special. Ah was gonna make cupcakes, but there weren’t no eggs. And the blueberries looked about to go bad, so...well...Ah got a pie in the oven.”
“Oh, really? Who taught you to make blueberry pie?”
“My….my maw did…”
“Well, it smells wonderful. That’s...that’s not cinnamon I smell. What is it?”
“Allspice, ma’am. You was outta cinnamon so, Ah substituted. I had to substitute a lot.”
Gideon busied himself around the kitchen, cleaning everything he used and putting it away. His foster mother just smiled and let him go. He had never been any trouble, and the more he worked in the kitchen, the more confidence he seemed to get.
At last, the pie was cooled to the point he could serve it. By then, his foster father was up too.
Gideon cut them both a slice for breakfast, and their faces lit up when they tasted it. “Ya like it?”
Mrs. Rascal spoke first. “Gideon, you did this in your head?”
“Yes ma’am...did...did Ah do it wrong?”
“No, no! This...this is wonderful! What do you think, Sid?”
His foster father spoke up. “Gideon, if you don’t enter a pie like this at the next Carrot Festival, I will be very disappointed. Oh! And another thing...Joan and I have been talking it over, and we think it’s time you started getting paid for the work you do for me.”
“But...but Ah don’t do much.”
“I have seen plenty of other workers who do far less. From now on, you get paid for every hour you work with me, until you are able to stand on your own feet. And to start you off, here’s $100. Consider it back pay.”
Gideon’s jaw dropped. “Thank you, sir…”
His foster mother smiled. “Do you think you could go buy some more blueberries, Gideon? I’d love to see what a pie like this tastes like with fresh blueberries. Oh, and get some cherries and apples, too.”
“Yes, ma’am. Where?”
“Best place is the Hopps’ Carrot Farm.”
Gideon started.
“Is that a problem?”
His expression changed to one of resolve. “No, ma’am. Not a problem at all.”
- * - * -
He rode his bicycle that he had been given for his 18th birthday over to the stand. He was nervous, but this had to be done.
Stu and Bonnie eyed him suspiciously as he got off his bike and approached them. “How can I help you?” asked Stu. But the way he said it, sounded more like, “What the heck do you want this time?”
“Ah...Ah...Ah want to apologize for stealin’ your blueberries, Mr. Hopps...Ah...Ah want to pay for them now.” He produced the hundred dollars and tried to hand it to Stu. “Ah hope that’s enough to cover interest.”
The two rabbits stood there dumbfounded.
Bonnie spoke first. “Judy has been saying this for years, Stu. Maybe she’s right.”
Stu took the money, without a word.
“And...and Ah...Ah...need to get some more blueberries...and some cherries and apples if you got ‘em. They’re for my foster maw, Joan Rascal.”
“Joan Rascal?, Stu scowled. “You’ve been living with her? I always thought that those two were…”
Bonnie spoke up. “Stu, what did I just say?”
Stu looked at Bonnie. “Yeah...you’re right. Sure. How much did you need?”
Gideon had brought money from Mrs. Rascal to pay for the fruit, but Bonnie simply said that they would put it on her tab. Gideon rode back home and presented the fruit to his foster mother, along with the cash. “Oh, did you forget to pay?”
“No, ma’am. They said they would put it on your tab.”
“My tab? But I don’t have...oh...I see...I’ll have to call them later and thank them.”
- * - * -
“Your attention, please,” the elderly rabbit spoke into the microphone. “We have the results of the blueberry pie competition for the 57th Annual Carrot Festival. Starting with fifth place…” She read off the names, to polite applause, handing out the pink, yellow, white, and red ribbons.
“And our first place, blue ribbon winner is… Oh!...well….this is a surprise. The winner of the blue ribbon goes to...Gideon Grey.”
Gideon’s jaw dropped. He had to be nudged to get up and accept the blue ribbon by Mrs. Rascal. As he accepted the ribbon, a few flashbulbs went off.
“I should note,” said the elderly rabbit. “That is is the first year the blue ribbon has ever been awarded to a fox...and a male one at that. Congratulations, Mr. Grey. Care to say a few words.”
Gideon blinked as the microphone was handed to him. A few more flashbulbs went off.
“Ah...Ah. .Ah just...wanna thank my foster maw, for encouragin' me to enter...and to my own maw...God rest her soul...who taught me almost ever’thin’ Ah know ‘bout bakin’.” He held the ribbon and looked up, tears filling his eyes. “This is for you, Maw!!” He quickly left the stage.
- * - * -
The next week, Gideon was back at the sheriff’s station.
The old sheriff had retired, and the raccoon, who was a deputy back years ago, was now the sheriff. “Gideon! Good to see you! What brings you in?”
“Ah...Ah just wanted to give you somethin' to show my appreciation for everythin’ you done for me back when Ah got arrested. You helped me put my life back together.”
“Oh, it’s was my duty to....is that one of your blueberry pies?”
“Uh...yeah...Ah know it’s not much…”
“Gideon, have you not heard the buzz you started since the Carrot Festival? Not only were the judges impressed, but they shared your pie with most of the officials and staff. Haven’t you heard?”
“Uh...no sir.”
“Well, as head of security, I got to taste it, and I was impressed. You got a lot of people asking when you’re going to open up a bakery.”
“They...they want to buy them?”
“That’s what I heard, and I can’t blame them. If I were you, I’d start trying to find a place.”
“Hey!!” came a voice from the back. “When do I get lunch around here? I’m starvin’!”
“You keep your trap shut, Travis!” shouted the sheriff. “You’ll eat when you get to the pen! And not a moment sooner!”
“Hey, I know my rights! I want my lawyer!”
Gideon got curious. “Travis? Is that...Travis Delver back there?”
The sheriff nodded. “You know him?”
“Haven’t seen him for years. What’s he in for?”
“Auto theft. Stole a car from the parking area at the Carrot Festival. They caught him last night when he rolled it over during a chase. Not a scratch on him, but the vehicle was totalled.”
Gideon sighed. “There but for the grace o’ God…” he muttered.
- * - * -
Gideon’s next stop was at the Hopps’ Carrot Farm.
“Hi, there, Mr. Hopps, Ah just thought Ah would bring you somethin’...”
Stu interrupted him. “Gideon...I tasted your blue ribbon pie already. I’m one of the major sponsors of the festival, remember? Now, I’m grateful that you made me another one. And you would not believe how business has picked up here, since then, when they found out where you bought the blueberries.”
“Aw… Ah’m glad, Mr. Hopps. So here…”
“No, no...I can’t accept this.”
“You...you can’t?”
“Not without compensation. Tell you what… How about I give you $5,000 to help you start your bakery? All I ask in return is you give me exclusive rights to supply you with whatever fruits and vegetables you need. How does that sound.”
Gideon just stared.
“Well,” continued Stu, “you will have to pay wholesale price for them...and you have to promise me that you’ll make the best carrot cake around.”
“That’s...that’s mighty generous of you, Mr. Hopps.”
“Oh, please, call me Stu. After all, we’re business partners now.”
“Oh...Ah...Ah couldn’t do that...wouldn’t be right. Maw always told me to respect my elders.”
“Well, you can’t very well go around calling me Mr. Hopps. That’s too formal. How about...hmmm… Mr. H?”
Gideon thought. “Mr. H….yes, sir. Ah...Ah think Ah can do that…”
- * - * -
As soon as the news spread that Gideon was actually going to open a bakery, pre-orders came rolling in. Mostly for pies, but cakes, pastries, and even a wedding cake were ordered. This plus the five thousand he got from Stu Hopps enabled him to lease a shop and get it remodeled.
The sheriff also clued Gideon in on a van that was available at the police auction. He told the sheriff that he didn’t know how to drive, but the sheriff convinced him to learn. Gideon did, and the sheriff kept the van off the block until he could legally drive it. It ran, but not well. Now, he could begin deliveries.
The first few months was amazingly successful, and Gideon was able to get better and more equipment for the bakery, get the van overhauled and painted, and, last but not least, get a proper headstone for his mother. He had it placed in a private ceremony. Just he and his foster parents.
And true to his word, he learned how to make a carrot cake unlike any anyone in Bunnyburrow had ever tasted. Today, though, the blueberries were ripe, and he was delivering pies for Mr. H to sell at his stand as part of the deal he made with him. There seemed to be someone helping at the stand today, though, she looked a bit familiar, and very depressed. Could it be…
Well, he’d find out soon enough. He honked his horn as he pulled up, and heard Mr. Hopps say, “Not all of them, though, speak of the devil. Right on time.”
