The Wandering Feather
Chapter One
The cream of London’s rodent population, plus a slew of frogs, gathered about in anticipation of the announcement that was to be the zenith of that day’s function. The main gallery of the art museum became silent as a crypt as their attention was drawn to the three artistic renderings hung in a special display area. Beside each framed canvas stood it’s creator: next to the image of a yellow stick figure stood a rat in a tee-shirt whose blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, beside a colorful field of stylistically similar mouse faces (none of which had any eyes) stood a mouse in a tattered vest who was missing most of his right ear, and a kangaroo rat in a stylish jacket accompanied the portrait of a dingo sitting in the shadow of Ayer’s Rock.
“Now that I have your attention, we can announce the recipient of this year’s ‘Queen Royal’ Award,” a well dressed mouse with a thick grey mustache began. “The winner’s work will receive a place of distinction in our gallery and be given a bottle of ‘Souris De Fleuve 1890' by the lovely Lady Rochenbella.” There was a smattering of applause as the Lady, gracefully cradling the bottle of imported port in one arm, waved regally to the gathered rodents and amphibians. “Will the fortunate individual be Philippe Marie-Suzon?” the mouse stated as he motioned to the smug looking blond rat, for whom the frogs cheered raucously. Clearing his throat loudly, he continued, motioning to the mouse with the missing ear, “‘Oobee’?” The frogs jeered loudly. Clearing his throat once more, he finished, motioning to the kangaroo rat, “Or William Longtail?” The frogs jeered once more. Having waited for the frogs’ uncivilized hollering to die down, the emcee produced a folded sheet of high quality paper from his jacket. Breaking the wax seal, he unfolded the sheet and read through the judgement written by a paw skilled in the art of calligraphy. With a practiced smile, he looked up to the gathering, “This year’s winner is- ‘Oobee’.” Still holding the sheet in one paw, he proceeded with a dignified clapping, accompanied by most of those assembled.
Philippe was too stunned to speak as his competitor raced forward to clutch the liquor bottle from the startled Lady. Tearing out the cork, ‘Oobee’ threw his head back and began loudly gulping down the port before he ran laughing from the gallery. Much of the clapping had died down as a result of the artist’s complete lack of poise and civility. However, Philippe would not be outdone when it came to making a scene.
“Zis eez a travesty!” the rat shouted in a thick french accent, “I demand a new judgement!”
“The judges’ decisions are final,” the mustachioed emcee explained, trying to retain as much civility as possible, even managing a forced smile (which only accentuated the rather prominent gap between his incisors).
“Zis eez ludicrous!” Philippe continued, “Do you realize ‘ow much water I had to drink to produce my work?!” There was a startled squeal from one of the ladies who suddenly deduced just how Philippe had created his ‘art’. Before the emcee could interrupt the outraged Frenchrat, Philippe continued his tirade. Motioning dramatically at the winner’s work he declared, “Compared to my creation zis eez nozing but a brain fart!” The assembled amphibians shouted their agreement.
“An’ I suppose you think my painting is nothing but a ‘brain fart’?” asked William, looking for an excuse to put the arrogant rat in his place.
“Of course not,” Philippe replied to the Australian with surprising poise, before hollering “ONE MUST HAVE A BRAIN BEFORE IT CAN FART!”
“You dirty-,” The rest of William’s epithet was difficult to discern as he tackled Philippe. William, in turn, was set upon by Philippe’s amphibious fan base. And they, in turn, were set upon by a horde of security personnel.
“Out and stay out!” hollered a uniformed ferret as he tossed Philippe out onto the street.
“And take these bloody frogs with you!” joined his companion who shoved the croaking mass of amphibians out the door.
The entrance was soon slammed shut on the small mountain of frogs, underneath which, somewhere, was a very angry rat. A muffled screaming could be heard from within the green mound. Frogs began flying off in all directions. One of them seemed to be jumping madly about, knocking the others off. Only that particular frog wasn’t jumping, he was being flung about like a club by Philippe. Releasing his ‘weapon’, he let the frog sail off through the air before a lamp post impeded it’s flight. Huffing angrily, Philippe stood with clenched fists, his disheveled and wavy hair obscuring his face, save for his snout. After calming somewhat, the rat pulled a string from somewhere in his fur and proceeded to tie his hair back.
“What now, maestro?” asked a frog with a distinctly Italian accent.
“Shall we kill that wretched ‘Oobee’?” sniveled another frog excitedly.
“IDIOT!” Philippe bellowed as he bonked the murderous frog over the head, “If he dies his garbage becomes more valuable! Non, I shall go to America, ze land of ze free. Only zere can I create a work of art so great zat ze whole world will be forced to acknowledge my genius!” The rat strode off with an entourage of loyal frogs hopping behind.
Chapter Two
“Two roasted acorns on the wall, two roasted acorns,” Dale sang gleefully, “Take one down, pass it around... One roasted acorn on the wall.” The chipmunk took a deep breath, and continued, “One roasted acorn on the wall, one roasted acorn. Take one down, pass it around... No more roasted acorns on-n-n-n the-e-e-e wa-a-a-all!”
“One more time!” Doohickey yelled out enthusiastically.
“Are you cuh-razy?!” cried Chip, almost muffling the sound of the freight train on which they rode, “We sat through Romulus and his ‘Hundred Slabs of Meat’, Monty and his ‘Hundred Wheels of Cheese’ and Dale’s ‘Hundred Roasted Acorns’...”
“Just kidding,” ‘Dee’ assured her fiancé as she nudged him playfully. “I could practically hear your teeth grinding when Dale started up,” the mouse explained, “I knew it would just take a little bit to get you to blow your top.” She hugged her chipmunk close as she cooed, “You’re just so cute when you blow your top!”
“Just don’t go settin’ ‘im off in front off yer kids,” Monterrey Jack suggested, “Provided you have any, that is.”
The full impact of what becoming a married munk might mean weighed on Chip’s mind for a moment. “Having kids,” he muttered, “Mom’s going to be glad to know there’ll be the pitter-patter of little Maplewoods in my life.”
“Hawkfeathers,” Dee quietly corrected.
“And maybe my Dad’s right,” Chip continued, his fiancé’s comment not having sunk in yet. “Maybe having children around will help Dale grow up a little!” he laughed.
“Hey!” Dale protested at the insinuation.
“Huh?” Chip blurted out simultaneously with Dale’s comment, his fiancé’s finally having registered.
“Well, at least on the reservation they’ll be ‘Hawkfeathers’,” Dee clarified tenderly, trying to minimize the bruising of her future husband’s ego, “They can be ‘Maplewoods’ everywhere else.”
Dale just sulked, being so completely ignored by Chip. Foxglove sought to sooth his ego by wrapping her wings around him tenderly and resting her head on his shoulder. She was a little fuzzy about what exactly had been said due to the wads of cotton in her ears (the roaring of the freight train being quite uncomfortable otherwise) but knew that Chip’s preoccupation with Dee was once more benefiting her preoccupation with Dale.
“What do you mean?” Chip asked, hoping for greater clarification on what his future wife had stated.
“It’s tribal custom that children inherit the family name of their biological mother rather than their father,” she pointed out, “It’s been that way ever since we adopted the use of ‘family names’.”
“Why would you do something like that?” Dale asked, his curiosity overcoming his sense of being ‘snubbed’ by Chip.
“We adopted matrilineal nomenclature for the same reason Europeans adopted patrilineal nomenclature,” Dee pointed out. She smiled contentedly as Dale’s mouth hung open.
“She means using the mother’s name for the same reason Europeans use the father’s name,” Gadget clarified for Dale’s sake.
“I knew that,” Dale claimed.
“The European custom of naming children after the father is because their societies, like many others elsewhere, were patriarchal: only the males had power,” Dee proceeded to explain, “So you would be judged by who your father was, therefore your name included mention of your father’s family. My tribe, on the other hand, is a matriarchy: controlled by females. Your status is determined by who your mother was... and, since tribal and clan membership are both traced through the mother’s family, retaining the mother’s family name makes it easier to tell who is and is not a member of our tribe or clan.”
“So that means I’m a member of your tribe too, right?” Gadget surmised.
“Yep,” Dee replied simply, “Both you and Raven are Seneca mice of the Wolf Clan.”
“Hold on,” Monty joined in, addressing Dee, “Not only were you adopted into a wolf pack but you were already a member of a wolf clan?”
“Ain’t it neat the way that works out?” Romulus, the alpha wolf, piped up as Dee nodded happily.
“I woulda’ thought you were a member of the Hawk Clan,” Monty speculated, “Being a Hawkfeather and all.” Before Dee could get out a response, he asked, “There is here a Hawk Clan, isn’t there?”
“Sure,” Dee assented, “There are eight clans... Wolf, Deer, Beaver, Bear, Turtle, Snipe, Heron, and Hawk.” Having answered Monty’s question, she proceeded to clear up the discrepancy in her family’s nomenclature, “When the Clan Mothers originally decided to hand down names for the families in their Clan, they wanted to use names that had some relevance to it. However, some members of the tribe already had informal names that people inside and outside the tribe referred to them by, so they were given preference... less work that way. Since the progenitor of our family, Asani, was already known for carrying around a lucky hawk feather, she officially became Asani Hawkfeather.” There was a small pause before Dee finished, “Of course, some of the original names have died out and some ‘non-tribal’ names have been included through adoption.”
“Wait a minute,” Chip intoned, “You said your tribe was a matriarchy, but last year when we were staying with you, people referred to the head of your tribe as a Chief... as a he. In a matriarchy, wouldn’t the head of the tribe be a she?”
“Well, that’s just being picky,” Dee laughed as she poked Chip, “Yes, the Chief is a ‘he’, but he is elected by the Clan Mothers, and if they aren’t pleased with his performance, he is removed from power.”
“What if he doesn’t want to give up power?” Dale asked.
“Most of the males who become Chief aren’t that stupid,” Dee answered quite seriously, “According to our oral history, one was that stupid... he was killed.” She then continued n a lighter tone, “But generally it’s understood that the Clan Mothers would basically have nothing more to do with him, and since most people in the tribe turn to the Clan Mothers for counsel, when they turn their back on the Chief the rest of the tribe usually follows... especially if his own Clan Mother chooses to shun him.”
“How do the Clan Mother’s get their authority?” Gadget inquired, “Is it inherited, mother to daughter?”
“No, it’s just general consensus,” Dee answered, “The most respected female in the Clan is the Clan Mother. That’s basically it... no elections. In fact, our own grandmother was the matriarch of our Clan before she died. You’ll actually get a chance to meet the current one, I’d like to get her blessing before I get married.”
“You mean she has to approve of our marriage?” Chip incredulously asked.
“It’s not required by tribal law or anything,” Dee comforted him, “It’s just a tradition when females marry outside the tribe.” She then smiled happily at her fiancé as she continued, “Besides, I don’t see why she’d have a problem with you, after all, you’ve all gained a certain amount of celebrity status after busting up that gang last year.”
The sounding of the train’s whistle alerted all within earshot that it’s next stop was approaching quickly. The Rangers and their companions proceeded to load baggage aboard the two wolves who were to provide transport the rest of the way to the pack’s den, and Dee’s home. This baggage included not just typical carry along luggage but both of the Ranger’s aircraft and Dee’s one mouse flier. Both Foxglove and Fangs were looking forward to being away from the incessant rumbling of the train. As the train slowed to a crawl, the wolves pulled the door to the freight car they were traveling in open. Crouching down, they waited for their rodent companions to climb aboard. Then, once the momentum of the train had made doing so sufficiently safe, they leapt to the ground and darted into the weeds that bordered the rails. The wolves trotted for some distance before they were sure that the train’s human crew couldn’t spot them, the lateness of the night making it rather unnecessary.
“How long till we get to the city?” Raven asked once it was learned no one had fallen off their lupine transport.
“We’re already there,” Dee replied with a laugh.
“You sure?” the girl asked as she looked about, finding no signs of civilization whatsoever, just darkness and weeds.
“Sure I’m sure,” the mother responded lightly.
“Judging form the condition of the ground I’d say we haven’t had rain here in a while,” Romulus surmised, “The river should be no problem to cross.”
The weeds through which they passed soon grew to a small forest. If it weren’t for the sound of a car racing by along the road cut into the side of the hill up above somewhere, Raven could have sworn they were miles from human habitation... much less a whole city. To the side, from between the trees, she caught a glimpse of light in the distance... it wasn’t much, but it was clearly a fluorescent streetlight. The growing sound of rushing water brought forth the familiar image of water emptying from a treatment plant or factory into the river. However, as they all emerged from the trees onto the riverbank, the hoped for man made drainage turned out to be a constriction in the river. But at least there was obvious civilization on the opposite side.
As the wolves made their way across the natural choke point in the river, Dee looked towards the same streetlights that caught her daughter’s eye. But it wasn’t the faint image of human homes, illuminated by artificial lights and obscured by trees, upon which her gaze fell, but the wall of blackness that ran between them and the river. She thought about pointing out the significance of the site to her sister and daughter, but decided the pain doing so would bring up in her own heart could wait till later.
Leaving the river, the wolves trotted over a small spit of gravel before ducking once more into some weeds. This time, though, there was a definite trail. Trees once more loomed overhead as they made their way along the dirt path. Raven eagerly looked forward as she caught site of a streetlight very close. But the mouth of the trail opened onto a road with no markings, no curbs, beyond which was a guard rail and then even more trees... this still didn’t look like much of a city. Quickly crossing the pavement to a sidewalk, the wolves made their way uphill towards the homes Raven had spotted earlier.
Passing a large yellow house on a corner lot, whose doors were boarded up and whose empty windows stared blankly into the night, Raven felt a chill run through her. Even though the road had grown curbs, and the apparent wilderness was giving way to manicured lawns and phone lines crisscrossing overhead, the prevailing silence was unsettling for the young mouse. Even insulated deep within the inner walls of the department store where her adopted parents had raised her, the sounds of a living city were quite audible... traffic, honking horns, an occasional police siren, even low flying aircraft. But here, there was nothing, no sounds at all save for a cricket. The sudden rustling of leaves overhead startled her. Raven actually felt embarrassed by her reaction.
“Up ahead, where the street comes to a stop,” Dee started to direct Romulus, “Off to the right across the intersecting street there’s a long narrow field between the houses... At the end of it there’s a trail into the woods up to Titus Creek... We can follow it up to the overpass of the expressway. We’ll be less visible that way.”
“Thank you,” Romulus sighed, “I don’t think I could have stood going all the way through the city along the sidewalks like last time.”
They came to the intersection and stopped as the wolves waited for a lone motorcycle to make it’s way past before crossing. Raven felt a little better with the roar of an engine coming by down a clearly marked street. As their conveyance proceeded to trot across the pavement, the young mouse instinctively looked up and down the length of the street for traffic, but only caught the tail light of the motorcycle and the blinking of distant yellow traffic lights. Up a driveway, onto the sidewalk, then a sudden left turn towards the open field... Again Raven realized they were once more to be swallowed up by the blackness beyond. With the streetlights to their backs, her eyes adjusted to the lack of illumination and saw a vast willow tree standing squarely along the centerline of the long green field, beyond which there appeared to be nothing, as if the tree was the gatehouse of oblivion. Passing beneath it’s branches, Raven observed the old platform of a partially collapsed tree house. Unbeknownst to the young mouse, the children for whom it was built were now grown and had lives of their own and the mother who crafted it for them was now beyond such feats of one-woman engineering, though it was a testament to her skill that the original platform remained even after nearly two decades of harsh winters.
As the wolves entered the dark wood, and the sound of the crickets grew louder, the sharp yaps of a small dog nearby drew everyone’s attention. Both Romulus and Honker stopped to determine if the loudmouth was loose and coming towards them or tied up. To their relief, the source of the noise seemed to be stationary. Then, carried on the wind and only faint enough for the bats and wolves to hear, a male human grumbled sleepily, “Bear, shut up and do your business.”
Traveling along a winding path, the lupine caravan came upon a wall of earth. Up and over they went into a little stream. As they passed the foundation of an abandoned railroad trestle the trees to their right grew sparse and a gust of wind was free to play past them.
“What’s that smell?” Raven groaned, her little snout wrinkling in disgust.
“That would be the dairy farm,” Dee pointed out, “Just inside the west end of the city.”
“You have a farm inside the city?” the incredulous youth asked.
“Yup!” her mother confirmed, “And we bring the cows even further into town for the annual Meadow Muffin Mardi Gras... or, as I call it, the yearly Cow Shit Festival.”
“I don’t wanna know,” Raven replied, shaking her head.
The travelers left the shelter of the stream just long enough to cross a road, the passage beneath being too small for either wolf, before continuing towards the expressway. The rushing of highspeed traffic became more prevalent the closer they approached. Then, in the distance, Dee noticed the raised earth that supported the lanes through the city.
“Okey-dokey,” Dee stated as they approached another local road, “Follow this road past the overpass.”
It took very little time to cover the distance. Both wolves stood with some unease under the light of a street lamp, looking about to determine if there were any locals still up who might see them, “Well, we’re past,” Romulus confirmed, “Now what?”
“See those trees at the base of the hill to your left?” Dee asked.
“Yeah,” Romulus replied.
“That’s the Park,” the mouse explained, “Head up that hill till you come to a road and we’ll unpack the planes... You’ll be able to find your way from there.”
“Okey-dokey!” the wolf replied excitedly as he bolted for the trees, happy to be beyond the humans’ habitat and within reach of his own.
Save for a couple startled deer, no one noticed the wolves and their companions as they reached the secure embrace of the forested hills of the Allegany State Park. Then, having found a suitable site off to the side of ASP Route 1, the Rangers, Dee, Raven, Foxglove and Fangs dismounted the wolves and unpacked both the Ranger Wing and Ranger Plane. Within minutes, Gadget and her half sister had gotten both craft ready for flight. The heavier items of luggage, including Dee’s flier, would be carried to the mill with the wolves as the rest made the trip ‘as the crow flies’.
“I really wanna thank you for putting up with the trip through the city,” Dee intoned as she snuggled up beside Chip as he piloted the Ranger Wing over the hills, “But with all Romulus and Honker had gone through over the past few weeks I just couldn’t have taken anything happening to them this close to home.”
“It wasn’t something to ‘put up with’,” Chip assured his fiancé, “I know how close you are to Romulus... and his pack, and besides, they’re friends.”
Dee smiled happily at how understanding the ‘munk of her dreams was. Without any conscious intent, she just happened to glance over her shoulder at the passengers in the rear. Both her daughter and her chiropteran beau had their heads craned back with mouths agape. “Asleep or stargazing?” she asked.
“Hm?” Raven asked.
“Oh... stargazing,” Fangs answered.
“Don’t get a sight like this in the city, do you?” Dee inquired knowingly.
“Uh-uh,” Raven replied.
Nearby, in the Ranger Plane, Foxglove cozied up beside Dale. “Have you ever seen so many stars?” she asked.
Dale thought for a moment. “Yeah, when we were here last year,” he answered plainly.
“Yeah, but this time you have somebody to share the sight with,” the chiropteran cutie intoned sweetly. Dale gulped nervously in response.
After a little aerial searching, the camouflaged mill that both Dee and the wolves called home was located. Chip deposited his sweetheart at ground level near the entrance to the den so she could go in to open the hanger door. On entering the den, though, she was set upon by several excited wolf pups.
“Did Romulus and Honker catch up with you?” Virginia inquired concerning her mate and brother-in-law, once the pups had backed away from their furry godmother.
“Yep! And it’s a good thing they did, too,” Dee answered, “They showed up just in time to save me and the Rangers from a trap... But he can tell you all about that when he gets back in a little while.”
“Daddy’s coming home! Daddy’s coming home!” the pups chanted as they bounced around happily.
“Is the tv still working ok?” Dee asked when the pups had settled some.
“Sure,” Virginia replied, “Why?”
“I was afraid that was the reason he made the trip,” the mouse explained, “after all, I’m the only one here who can repair it.”
“No, it was genuine concern for your well being,” the carnivore clarified with poorly veiled jealousy.
Dee nodded. “Well, I have to get things unlocked upstairs... I have guests waiting to enter the hanger,” she eventually stated as she made her way towards her lodgings, “including my fiancé.”
Virginia thought about spouting off something about whether Romulus had approved of someone stealing his mouse, but thought better of it and simply stated, “That’s wonderful!”
Outside, both Ranger aircraft hovered near the closed door of the hanger, awaiting some notification that Dee had things turned on and unlocked within. In time, a thin slit of illumination appeared. Growing in height at a steady rate, the long rectangle soon revealed the interior of the spacious hanger and workshop. Standing near the edge, Dee motioned for the Ranger Wing to enter first. Then, after Chip had landed the craft, Gadget proceeded to bring in the Ranger Plane. However, it was a little too tall. Before anyone could offer a suggestion, Gadget began fiddling with the controls. The plunger-like landing gear of the craft reached forward and grabbed hold of the hanger floor. Carefully, Gadget used the landing gear to pull the dirigible into the structure, the red balloon that provided the added lift sliding in under the frame of the door. With a ‘plip-plop’ sound, the Ranger Plane walked it’s way inside until it stood beside it’s propeller driven sibling.
“Maybe I should consider raising the doorframe,” Dee thought aloud as her guests disembarked from their respective aircraft.
“Golly, I was just thinking I should shorten the straps holding the balloon,” Gadget returned.
“Ooh!” Dee blurted out excitedly, “What about installing gears that could reel in and spool out the straps as needed!”
“That’s a great idea!” the elder sister concurred, “Can I start working on that now? I mean, I want to have your permission before I start rummaging through your storage bay.”
“Go right ahead!” the younger mouse replied, “But I want to introduce the rest of you to the rest of the pack.” After descending the stairs down to the ground floor, Dee pulled back the curtain that separated her map room from the wolves' den and showed Fangs, Foxglove and Raven inside... Chip went in afterwards, beside his fiancé. “Virginia,” she called over, “These are the guests I was talking about.”
The pups, who had been collected into a semicircle before the tv, raced over to greet them. The mouse and bats soon disappeared behind a ring of wagging tails as the young wolves clustered about to sniff the newcomers intently.
“All right, you got to sniff them,” Virginia spoke to her young, “Now stand back and let your Aunt Dee introduce them properly.”
All but one of the pups backed away. The lone straggler gave Fangs a few more sniffs, then looked up at it’s mother, “This one smells yummy, Mommy!”
The vampire’s blood ran cold at hearing the pup’s discovery. And it didn’t warm any when the matronly she-wolf leaned in for a few sniffs of her own. “By gum, you’re right!” Virginia declared, “He smells delicious!”
Seeing Fangs tremble slightly, Dee walked up to help calm him. “They probably smell the blood on your breath,” she pointed out.
“Blood?” Virginia inquired.
“Yeah, this is Darkfire, but everyone calls him ‘Fangs’,” Dee proceeded with the introductions, “He’s a vampire bat.”
“Oh cool!” one of the pups piped up, “Can you turn into a bat? Huh? Can you?”
“He’s already a bat, you dork!” another pup replied to the first.
“And, no, he’s not the kind of vampire they show in horror movies,” Dee pointed out.
Virginia leaned in to ask Dee discretely, “Did Romulus know that?”
“No,” the mouse answered with a sigh.
“Did he scream and try to kill him?” the she-wolf inquired further.
“Yes,” Dee replied.
“Do I know my mate or what?” Virginia asked rhetorically, to which Dee released a little snicker.
Continuing with the introductions, Dee walked over to the other bat. “This is Foxglove,” she stated, “the one that’s madly in love with Dale.” Foxglove blushed noticeable at the added comment. “And this one here,” Dee proceeded as she stood beside the young mouse, “is Raven, my daughter.”
“Wow,” Virginia muttered, “I... didn’t think we’d ever get to meet you.” After awhile she mentioned to Dee, “I guess this means we don’t have to keep the fact that you’re a mother a secret anymore.”
“Nope,” Dee chuckled, “We weren’t reunited under the best of circumstances, but everything worked out.” Before any discussion could be made of the matter, Romulus and Honker wandered into the den.
“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” the pups chanted happily as they bounced over, then, seeing the packs he and Honker were carrying, started chanting, “Presents! Presents! Presents!”
“No,” Romulus responded kindly, “No, you little beggars. It’s the luggage our guests brought.” Romulus removed the baggage and handed it to Honker, who had removed what he had been carrying also, “Put these in the map room.”
As Honker meandered off with the luggage, one of the pups piped up excitedly, “Daddy-Daddy, did you see the vampire?!” The pup raced behind Fangs, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and carried him over to show his father.
“You shouldn’t go around treating our guests like toys,” Virginia rebuked the youngster.
“Sorry,” the little wolf replied after setting the unsettled chiropteran down. Raven quickly walked up and led her love out of the area before he could again become the focus of unwanted attention.
“Well, you all have things to get caught up on,” Dee stated, “Stories to tell and all... We’ll just head back upstairs.” She and Chip then led the other three from the den. Up in Dee’s livingroom, Monty, Dale and Zipper were settled in watching the television.
“If no one minds,” Foxglove interrupted politely, “I’d like to head out to get something to eat.”
As there were no immediate objections, Dee pointed out the lack of airborne predators in the vicinity and wished Foxglove ‘happy hunting’. Allowing the others to set themselves down after their friend’s departure, she wandered off to her bedroom. Dee quickly returned carrying a small photo. “Raven,” she stated happily as she leaned over the back of the couch between her daughter and Fangs, “I’ve got something to show you!”
Raven took hold of the photo that was handed to her and looked it over. In it, a young mouse that looked remarkably like herself was holding two infant mice as she lay reclined in a hospital bed, the look of joy on her face mirrored almost exactly that of her mother as she had handed her the photo. Turning it over, she read the reverse: Doohickey w Rebecca + Raven. The adolescent’s mouth hung open for a bit as she turned it back over. “This is you, me and... my sister,” she eventually said.
“Mm-hm,” her mother acknowledged cheerfully, “This is the first time I’ve been able to look at it without breaking down!” As tears began to well up in her eyes, Dee reached down and embraced her daughter tightly.
Raven at first felt slightly awkward, but there was something in the way Dee held her that overcame the thirteen years they’d spent apart. The young mouse’s heart was moved to return the embrace, in as much as the unusual position allowed for her to do so. As she looked at the picture and felt her mother’s arms around her, Raven was overcome by a sense of shame. She recalled the pain and misery she had intentionally inflicted on Dee after discovering that she had given her up for adoption. “I’m sorry,” she offered.
“For what?” her mother asked.
“For what?” Raven returned incredulously, “For treating you the way I did!”
“Hey, we’re past that,” Dee replied, “Kicking yourself over past mistakes isn’t going to do anything but ruin the vacations you’re supposed to be on. Oh, and about that,” she broke her speech to stick her muzzle into her daughter’s ear and whisper something to her. After the transfer of information, they smiled at each other.
Dee straightened up and wandered off as Raven returned her gaze to the photo in her paws, but her mind was on other things. “Anybody else wanna see the picture?” she asked as an idea presented itself.
“Sure, I’ll take a look at it,” Monty opened up as he took hold of it from the young mouse. Dale immediately bounced up from his seat to take a peak at it as well.
“There’s something I wanna check out,” Raven whispered to Fangs as she got up from the couch, “C’mon.” The two walked over to the sliding glass door that sat opposite the couch. Walking out onto the balcony, Raven led with Fangs following behind, uncertain whether his love actually knew where she was leading him. Around the angular corner that wrapped around the pantry and past the second sliding glass door that would lead into Dee’s bedroom she led him. Around another corner they found a staircase that led up along the wall and to a door on the left.
The waning moon created a bizarre patchwork on the moss covered floor as it’s light shone through the camouflage netting above in the room they entered. Raven quickly located the string her mother had told her to look for and gave it a healthy tug. Both mouse and vampire jumped a little when the camouflage roof swung up and back. They looked up in wonder as all the heavens were revealed to them. Raven laid back on the moss first, continuing to stare off into the sky. Fangs soon joined her as he lay by her side.
Before long, Raven let out a little giggle as she reached a paw out. “I know it’s trite, but it does almost seem like you can reach out and touch them,” she pointed out.
“Odd you should say that,” the bat responded, “For me, they’re there, but they’re not there... y’know?”
Raven looked at him for a moment before it hit her, “Because you can’t hear them, right?”
“Yeah, I can send out all the pings I want,” Fangs elaborated, “but never get anything back... like they’re an illusion.” The two lay on the moss for awhile in quiet reflection before Fangs spoke again, “This is what Dee whispered to you about, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” Raven conceded, “Y’know what it’s like to have someone stick a cold wet nose in your ear canal and try to whisper something?”
“No,” Fangs laughed, “I can’t say that’s ever happened to me.”
“Wanna find out?” the mouse offered.
“Okay...,” the bat replied with a little hesitation.
Gently, Raven leaned in with her muzzle. She knew she couldn’t fit her snout in his ear quite the way her mother had done with her, but she was certain to get the two important elements involved... a cold wet nose and twitching whiskers. Poking her nose against the interior of one of the vampire’s enormous ears, she waited until both sets of whiskers were pressing against the outer edges before she said anything. But what she said was irrelevant as her subject burst into laughter.
As Raven leaned back, Fangs rubbed the edges of his ear with his wing as if trying to wring out the ticklish sensation. “Why didn’t you do anything when she did that to you?” he asked, utterly perplexed.
“It was so unexpected that it didn’t register at first,” Raven explained, “and when it finally did I had to hold back so that I could finish hearing what she was saying.”
“Ok, lets try that again,” Fangs demanded lightly, trying to see if he could hold out. Once more Raven leaned in. And once more the vampire burst into giggles as the mouse frantically wiggled her whiskers.
Leaning back again, Raven caught sight of a bright flash out of the corner of her eye. Quickly she turned about for a good look and for the first time in her life witnessed a shooting star. “WOW!” the astonished youth blurted out. “Ooh! Gotta make a wish!” she immediately added. For a moment she stared off into the night as the faint trail the falling star left in her vision faded, then she spun back to look at Fangs and gave him a broad smile.
“Well, what did you wish for?” he asked.
Raven’s smile grew a wicked edge to it as she replied, “Here, let me whisper it in your ear!” The vampire was soon reduced, again, to ridiculous giggles. Overhead, unnoticed by either lover, a little brownish-pink bat zipped by, chasing down a big juicy moth.
Chapter Three
Foxglove was just about finished hunting for the night and looking forward to being in Dale’s presence once again when her activities caught the attention of a couple local bats. The fact that her ultrasonic signature was unfamiliar was itself intriguing, but noticing that she was cute was irresistible to the two young and available males. Introductions were in order.
“Hi!” one of the two opened as they swooped up beside Foxglove, “You’re new around here, aren’t you?”
“Hello,” Foxglove responded politely, “Yes, I’m new here... me and my friends are here on vacation.”
“My name’s Brett,” introduced one of the males.
“And I’m Bernie,” the other joined in.
“My name’s Foxglove,” the young lady replied.
“Why don’t we grab a branch and talk,” Brett suggested.
“Um, ‘grab a branch’?” Foxglove inquired, “Oh, you mean perch in a tree, right?”
“Yeah,” both males nodded.
Foxglove made it a point to be the first to head for a tree, she wanted to make sure she controlled as much of this meeting as possible... at least until she got to know her two new acquaintances better. She was certain to perch in a tree within shouting distance of the mill making sure there was little room for another to perch between her and the structure. Brett and Bernie took up spots closer to the trunk.
“So, where are you and your friends staying?” Bernie asked.
“At the mill here,” Foxglove answered as she motioned behind her, “with Doohickey Hawkfeather.”
Both of the young males laughed at what they assumed had to be a joke. Seeing Foxglove’s expression of surprise, they both ceased their chortling. “You can’t be staying with Hawkfeather,” Brett pointed out, “She hates bats.”
Foxglove looked at them for a little while, a bit at a loss for words. “You mean because of that incident a few years ago...”
“When she wiped out half a colony,” Brett finished seriously.
“She explained to me that the colony in question had tried to kill her when she wouldn’t move out of the mill,” Foxglove pointed out.
Brett and Bernie looked at each other, this time, they were the ones at a temporary loss for words. “You talked to her?” Bernie eventually asked.
“Of course!” Foxglove giggled.
“Maybe we should try to talk with her,” Bernie asked his companion quietly.
“What, are you crazy?” was Brett’s response.
“I could go ask her if she’d be willing to talk to you,” Foxglove offered. Brett and Bernie just looked at each other, back at Foxglove and then back to each other. Fed up with the constant silent, not to mention uninformative, back and forth, she piped up with, “I’ll go ask her.”
Both males watched Foxglove flutter off, not entirely certain she’d return or not. Added to that uncertainty was what to do if she did return and say they could meet. Should they take the chance? Neither was quite sure if they had the strength to back out and risk looking like cowards in front of this adorable and, for all they knew, available female. Foxglove did eventually return, for which both were relieved, if for no other reason than she was pleasing to the senses.
“Sure,” Foxglove opened up cheerfully, “you can meet with her... C’mon!”
Brett and Bernie looked at her blankly for a moment. They still weren’t sure they could go through with it. They looked at each other again, each thinking ‘If he says no, I’ll say no.’ Then Brett ventured a hesitant, “Okay.” Much to Bernie’s dismay, there was no turning back now, he didn’t want to be the one to look like a wimp. Both followed the lady as she led them to the open hanger door. Inside, they discovered several rodents and a fly waiting for them.
Foxglove immediately began with introductions. She started motioning towards the Ranger Plane, “Over there is Gadget,” the mouse in question looking up from her work long enough to wave, after which Foxglove motioned to her other side, naming each in turn, “This is Chip, Dale, Monterrey Jack, Zipper,” she stopped and quickly pointed out in a frequency only the two other bats could hear, “Don’t eat him,” then continued, “They’re the Rescue Rangers.” Finally, she motioned to the mouse wearing the black jumpsuit and short black hair, “And this is our hostess, Doohickey... but we all call her Dee.” There was a short exchange of obligatory greetings from all sides.
“I suppose I should explain what happened,” Dee opened up, “just so you don’t think I’m some kind of genocidal sociopath.”
“Ok,” Brett shrugged.
“Shortly after I’d moved in here and began to set things up,” she proceeded to recount, “a group of bats approached me and basically just told me to leave, that they wanted to set up their colony here. I had been here a few times before so I knew there were no preexisting bat colonies, just a group of elderly owls. Once they left I staked my claim. I pointed out to these bats that I was willing to share the mill with them, after all I’d already agreed to let the wolves set up a permanent den down below. They told me they weren’t about to share this place with any ‘ground walking losers’. I stated quite plainly that this was now my home and I had no intention of leaving. One of them, apparently the leader, said that I could either leave or they’d ‘leave my corpse on the roof for a passing owl to eat’.
“I don’t tolerate people threatening me in my own home and I do not back down from a fight so, when they left, we all knew there would be trouble. They waited till I had laid down for the night- I wasn’t sleeping, I’d done that during the day- and stormed the place. My mechanical defenses wounded a couple and I’d cut a few in paw to wing combat, but there were more than I’d expected and had to retreat to the wolves’ den. Romulus and the others made a horrible racket until the invaders left.” As Dee spoke, Chip noticed she began to speak less emotionally, almost coldly, about what had happened. “They had already tried to kill me once, and I had no reason to believe they wouldn’t keep trying until I was dead. I was outnumbered and didn’t have the means to keep repairing my defenses after successive attacks. Allowing them to keep the initiative was suicide, so the next day I tracked them down to where they were based. They apparently weren’t expecting me to come looking for them because they didn’t have anyone keeping watch... I took account of their numbers, found to my relief that there were no children with them, and raced back to prepare for a counterattack. Upon carrying out the strike I didn’t wait around to see how many I’d taken out, I returned to the wolves’ den and waited to see if there would be another attack that night. When there was no attack, I returned to their base to investigate and found roughly half of them were dead and the rest had evacuated. They never returned.”
The two male bats digested the information for a moment. “I don’t remember hearing about that happening to any of the local colonies,” Brett mentioned to his colleague.
“Then how did you hear about it?” Dee asked, slightly confused.
“Word of mouth from others,” Brett pointed out, “Passed from one colony to another, but no one ever gave details about what colony you attacked. We just assumed it happened somewhere else, before you moved here.”
“Could have been a group of rejects,” Bernie suggested to his companion.
“Rejects?” Chip asked.
“Troublemakers kicked out of their colonies,” Brett clarified, “Sometimes we hear about them hooking up with other colonies, but they usually get themselves ousted from their adopted homes too. Maybe several of them got together and decided to create a colony of their own... It would explain why there weren’t any children with them, I don’t recall ever hearing of a colony kicking out kids before they were even old enough to cause trouble in the first place.”
“That would also explain their attitude, too,” Bernie added, “Assuming this all happened the way you said, then they definitely weren’t the types you’d want in your colony.”
“I guess that makes you feel a little better,” Chip mentioned quietly to Dee, “knowing that those weren’t the salt of the earth you... went to war with.”
“I’d rather not have had to do it in the first place,” Dee responded just as quietly, though the regret in her voice made it seem quieter than it was intended. Chip realized her pain and put a paw on her shoulder to comfort her. Though most of the other persons present in the hanger couldn’t hear the exchange, the two chiropteran guests had and it helped lend credibility to what they’d been told. Brett and Bernie began to understand that the rumors they’d heard of a bat hating sociopath didn’t hold as much water as they’d thought.
“I guess we could let others know you’re not out to get any of us,” Brett mentioned, “so we don’t have to be so concerned about flying in eggshells around the mill.”
“Hey, Foxglove, maybe you could come with us!” Bernie piped up excitedly, “Y’know, kind of like an ambassador... And we could show you around while we’re at it!”
“Well, I don’t know,” Foxglove initially responded, then asked, turning to the Rangers and Dee, “Is it ok with all of you?”
“Golly, Foxglove, you don’t need to ask our permission to go out,” Gadget answered, having joined the group after finishing her modifications to the Ranger Plane.
“Yeah, it’s not like we’re your parents or anything,” Dale added. Foxglove was a little disappointed that Dale hadn’t shown at least some concern about her going off with a couple males, but she couldn’t think of a way to let him know that without either embarrassing him or looking too clingy on her part.
“Go and have yourself a good time, luv!” Monty suggested as he walked up and gave her a chummy nudge. He then turned to their new acquaintances. “Now we may not be her parents,” he stated seriously as he towered over the two young male bats, “But we’d still be quite upset if anything bad happened to her while she was out with you.”
“Sure, we understand,” Brett responded as he and his companion unconsciously retreated a couple steps. With an exchange of farewells, Foxglove and her two escorts were on their way.
“Seems like this vacation is getting off to a good start,” Chip stated as everyone wandered back to the livingroom, “Romulus and Honker got back safely after their travels among the humans, Foxglove got to make some new friends and helped Dee make peace with the local bats in the process.”
Up from the den Romulus shouted, “Dale! Monster movie! Channel 27!”
“Hot-doggies!” the chipmunk declared as he hurriedly changed the channel and plunked himself down before the television.
Hearing Chip groan his disapproval, Dee pulled him aside. “Don’t worry, this’ll give us some time to work on our itinerary for tomorrow.”
“Well, where do we start, then?” he asked.
“I’d like to check in with Bill, at my workshop in town, let him know I’m back,” his fiancé started, “I figure you, Raven and Gadget may as well come along, because after that we can meet with my Clan Mother to let her know about our engagement and that there are officially two new members of the tribe.” Her buoyant attitude slipped a little as she added, “I’d also like to take Gadget to visit our mother’s grave... well, memorial actually, you understand.”
“Of course,” Chip answered simply.
The rest of the night passed fairly uneventfully. Raven and Fangs returned from their ‘date’ outside, after which Dee had the opportunity to discuss the coming day’s rounds with both her daughter and sister. The need for sleep began to set in, and when Dale’s movie wrapped up preparations were made for bed. Fortunately, here were enough beds left in storage from the previous visit by the Rangers to accommodate everyone with Raven taking the bed left vacant by Chip (who was rooming with Dee per her request). It was agreed that both Fangs and Foxglove could easily hang from the numerous structural beams along the ceiling.
“But Foxy isn’t back yet,” Dale noted as Dee began to close the hanger door for the night.
“I know, I’m not closing it completely,” the mouse replied, “I’m just not comfortable leaving a giant gaping hole in my home when I go to sleep... G’nite.”
“Uh, yeah,” Dale responded, “G’nite.” For well over half an hour after the lights went out he lay awake. Dale couldn’t quite pinpoint why it bothered him so much that Foxglove hadn’t returned yet. He didn’t consider their relationship to be anywhere near as serious as Dee and Chip’s, even before their engagement. Periodically Dale would peer over towards the narrow opening of the hanger door, the faint light of the waning moon making the outside a dark yet oddly radiant blue. That looks like it’d be kind of a tight fit, he thought to himself, Maybe I should see if I can open it a little more, just in case. But, as he thought the matter over, a shadow flashed along the narrow rectangle of lunar illumination, coming to a stop a few inches from the near end.
As Foxglove pulled herself in to the hanger she wondered if she should wake anyone to let them know she was back, but was a little worried the others would be upset that she was gone so long. She quickly located the acoustic silhouettes of everyone but Dee and Chip. Oh no, she thought, They’re out looking for me, aren’t they? As her worry grew, her attention was drawn to the fact that one of the sleeping forms was sitting upright... upon further inspection, she realized it was Dale staring at her, his heart beating a mile a minute.
Dale stared at the stranger that had crawled into the hanger. Normally there would be enough ambient light coming through the livingroom windows in the distance for him to get a clear view of the person’s outline with some detail, but the light entering through the hanger door behind made only the lower half visible and only in silhouette. Both the monster movie he’d just watched and Dee’s story of how she’d been attacked after moving in gave rise to all sorts of terrible possibilities. The fact that the individual seemed to be walking directly towards him didn’t help.
“Hi, Cutie,” Foxglove opened up quietly, “Were you waiting up for me?”
Dale let out a long sigh of relief. “Well, um, kinda,” he replied.
“Where are Dee and Chip?” the latecomer asked.
“They’re in Dee’s room,” Dale answered simply.
“I hope no one’s upset that I was out so long,” Foxy mentioned as she walked up beside Dale’s bed.
“Nah,” the chipmunk replied, dismissing her unwarranted worry, “Did you have a good time?”
“Oh, I had a great time!” Foxglove chirped, almost forgetting that others were sleeping nearby, “I was treated like I was some kind of celebrity!” The young lady proceeded to regale her cutie with her experiences that night, though after observing several yawns she realized it had gotten quite late, even by Dale’s standards. “Well, I guess I better let you get some sleep,” she conceded. Pointing up towards the ceiling with a wingtip Foxglove added, “I’ll be right up there, ok?”
“Yup,” Dale replied sleepily before laying down. Taking up a roosting place just above Dale, Foxglove prepared to get some sleep herself.
“Sounds like you had a great time,” Fangs mentioned to his neighbor, making sure to use a chiropteran-only frequency so as not to disturb anyone.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were still awake,” Foxglove replied similarly.
“I’m still not entirely adjusted to sleeping at night,” he pointed out. “I bet you got hit on a lot,” he jabbed playfully.
“Well, not really,” she responded modestly.
“Oh, c’mon,” Fangs teased, “I can feel you blushing all the way over here.”
“Ok,” Foxy relented, “It was kind of hard to talk seriously with some of the younger males.” She then added with a laugh, “It didn’t help that Brett and Bernie kept arguing with others about which of them ‘found me first’.” After a moment of reflection she wondered aloud, “I hope neither of them got the impression I was interested in either of them, beyond friendship that is.”
“I wouldn’t think so,” Fangs wondered aloud back, “Technically you’re a complete stranger and they must know you’re not going to be staying. But then again, what do I know, I’ve never lived in a colony before, they may view things differently.”
“I’ve never really lived in a colony either,” Foxglove replied, “But I think I know enough about young males to be concerned about their getting the wrong impression.”
“Well, if they ever notice how you behave around Dale I’m pretty sure they’d realize you’re ‘off the market’,” Fangs reassured her.
“I hope so,” she responded. I also hope Dale [/i]doesn’t get the wrong impression, either.[/i]
Chapter Four
Foxglove had everyone’s attention during breakfast as she recounted the details of her night out with the local bats. Throughout the presentation she kept searching for some indication as to whether or not Dale appeared jealous about all the attention she had been getting by some of the males. However, his attention continually shifted between her and the early morning cartoons he had found on tv... even though his interest in cartoons was usually something she considered cute and endearing, his only being half aware of her story made it impossible to gauge his reaction.
With breakfast and Foxy’s story complete, everyone began to divide into two parties. Dale, Foxglove, Monty and Zipper prepared to take the Ranger Wing into town for some sightseeing while Chip, Dee, Gadget, Raven and Fangs prepared to make the rounds to Dee’s relatives in the Ranger Plane. Raven had asked about the possibility of taking Dee’s jet, the Banshee, into town, but her mother explained that the amount of effort needed to ready it for take off after each stop made it too much of a hassle. Then, seeing her daughter’s disappointed expression, Dee promised to take her up in it later, just for kicks.
After Dale had taken the Ranger Wing out, Gadget prepared to take off with the other plane, but there was something she had to take care of first. “Now I can see if the Balloon Retraction System works!” she declared excitedly as she pulled a lever. Before everyone knew it, they were pinned to their seats by the Ranger Plane’s red sausage-like balloon.
“Is it supposed to do that?” Chip asked.
“Golly, no,” Gadget initially replied, “Well, yes, but not that suddenly.” Pulling the lever back to it’s original position, the balloon shot back up towards the ceiling. “It was supposed to lower in a more controlled manner,” Gadget explained, completely oblivious to the fact that the her hair was pulled straight up by a little static electricity. “Let’s try this again,” she stated as she gently lowered the lever slowly. As intended, the balloon descended just as slowly. With the height of the hanger entrance no longer an impediment to it’s departure, Gadget piloted her craft out of the mill.
“Y’know, when I think of New York State,” Raven mentioned as she looked out at the expanse of forested hills, “this isn’t exactly what I picture.”
Cresting a hill, the Allegany River valley spread out before the travelers. Hugging the base of the hills to the south was the Southern Tier Expressway. A vast open field to the west sat like a depression among the trees, in the center of which was a large yellow barn. “Fangs,” Dee stated, drawing the vampire’s attention, “That’s the dairy farm I was talking about, plenty of cows to feed off of.”
“Ok,” Fangs replied, “Where do we meet up when I’m done?”
“See that large concrete monolith just past those buildings downtown?” Dee began to answer, “My workshop is in the field just north of it, you’ll be able to see the landing strip from above.”
“Gotcha,” the hungry blood drinker acknowledged before diving towards the beefy bovines below.
Gadget guided the Ranger Plane over downtown Salamanca towards the abandoned rail yards where her sister had set up shop. In the shadow of the concrete water tanks she set down beside the landing strip. As the passengers disembarked, Dee’s assistant, William, emerged from the small wood and brick structure beside the small clearing.
“We were all beginning to wonder if you were going to return at all,” William greeted the arrivals in his distinctive British accent. “Apparently not all of you made it,” the red squirrel added noticing Dee’s substantially shortened hair.
“I encountered some unexpected situations,” Dee pointed out, “How have things been while I was gone?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary for the most part,” William answered, “I repaired a few broken down contraptions that you had made for others, but nothing serious.” There was a slight pause before he asked the inevitable, “And how was your holiday, if I might ask?”
“Well, first, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Raven,” Dee proceeded, motioning to her child, “She’s most of the reason I was gone so long.”
William exchanged polite greetings with the young mouse before replying, “I’d heard rumors about your having had children, but got the feeling it was a matter not to be spoken of.”
“I’d had her when I was only thirteen,” Dee explained, “I asked my godparents to raise her as their own, our family made it known that we didn’t want the fact that she was adopted to get out.”
“Obviously this is no longer the case?” William assumed.
“Right,” Dee conceded, “I had told the Rangers about it and requested that they also keep the matter secret, but Dale, the one with the red nose, spilled the beans right in front her. She didn’t take the revelation well, but nearly giving my life for her convinced her that I really did care about her.”
“I imagine this ties in with the loss of your hair,” William broke in.
“Yeah,” the inventor acknowledged, “I managed to get her out of a condemned building just before it was imploded. I covered her just as the detonations went off and got a splinter right through the chest... the hair came off for the surgery. I spent the next three weeks in a coma.”
“Seems you could use a holiday from your holiday,” the squirrel observed.
“That’s what I’m hoping I can get now,” Dee replied, “That’s part of the reason I brought the Rangers back with me... Plus, to inform everyone that Gadget here is really my half sister,” then, placing an arm around Chip and displaying her engagement ring, “and that I’m getting married!”
“Congratulations!” William offered to the chipmunk, extending his paw, “And I imagine you won’t have to worry about people making rude remarks about your bride-to-be’s past at the wedding, since everyone there will likely be terrified of her.”
“Terrified of you?” Raven asked of her mother.
“Sure,” Dee answered, “Where do you think you got that short and vicious temper of yours?”
“Oh, there was one thing I need to tell you about,” William interjected, “Several people from your tribe had stopped by after you were late with your return asking me if I had any knowledge of when you would return.”
“Well, it’s nice to know I was missed,” the Seneca mouse commented. The small group of rodents continued to talk until Fangs arrived. Then there was another exchange of pleasantries before they could depart. “Now I have to get going,” Dee stated as she prepared to leave, “I’ve gotta let others know I’m back.”
“Of course,” the English rodent nodded, “And don’t feel you need to get right back to work, I can keep things going a while longer... you have apparently earned some time off after all.”
“Y’know, an English accent was probably one of the last things I expected to hear on this trip,” Raven commented after they were airborne once more.
“Won’t be the last strange accent you hear,” her mother pointed out.
The next stop brought the Ranger Plane to a dilapidated two-story carriage house tucked away behind a row of well kept homes in the suburbs. With the amount of trees that had been allowed to grow within the conjoined backyards of the properties it was difficult to notice the structure at all unless one was searching for it specifically. Leaving their conveyance in amongst the wild shrubs growing along the rotted walls, Chip, Gadget, Raven and Fangs followed Dee as she looked for the entrance used by the resident rodents.
“Hello?” a young grey female mouse with wavy blond hair called out as she emerged from between some boards.
“Terry?” Dee called back.
“Dee, is that you? It’s about time you got back!” Terry responded with a hint of annoyance in her voice, “Where’f you been? In a coma?”
“For three weeks,” Dee answered.
“Seriously?” her friend inquired, more curious now than annoyed.
“I got impaled shielding my daughter from a debris cloud when a building came down beside us,” Dee explained.
“Your daughter?” Terry asked. She quickly looked at the group and then pointed at Raven as she looked back to Dee.
“Yep,” the mother nodded, “This is my daughter, Raven.”
“What happened to the Southmonts?” Terry asked concerning Raven’s adopted parents, “Are they ok?”
“They’re fine,” Dee revealed, “They didn’t die or anything, it’s just that after the Rangers and I rescued Raven and her friend from some kidnapers one of them accidentally mentioned that I was her mother. Couldn’t keep the secret after that.”
“I wouldn’t let them,” Raven pointed out.
“Yeah, she practically strangled the one that mentioned it until we agreed to tell her everything,” Dee elaborated.
“Well, I guess she takes after her mother,” Terry commented.
“Oh, also,” Dee added excitedly, motioning to her sister, “This is my older half-sister, Gadget!”
“Half-sister?” Terry asked.
“Yeah, you remember how my mother was gone for a year before I was born?” Dee began to explain.
“No, I don’t remember,” Terry smirked, “I wasn’t born until after you were.”
“You know what I mean,” Dee smiled, “Anyhow, she met Gadget’s father while she was away and... along came Gadget.”
“Being named Gadget, you’d haf to be Doohickey and Thingamabob’s sister,” Terry remarked as she gave her new acquaintance a hug.
“And she’s going to be getting a brother-in-law!” Dee proclaimed as she brandished her engagement ring.
“Holy cow!” the young mouse declared upon seeing the sparkler, “Who’s the fictim?”
“Right here,” Dee answered as she pulled Chip over.
“Hey, looks like the adfenturous type,” Terry noted as she looked Chip over like a large hunk of cheese, “Right up your alley!”
“That’s also why we’re here,” Dee added, “We want to get your grandmother’s blessing before we get hitched.”
“Oh,” the blond’s expression fell suddenly, “That’s why we’fe been trying to get in touch with you after you didn’t get back when you said you would... She passed away about, what, sefen days after you left.”
“I’m sorry to hear about that,” Dee offered as she embraced her friend, “You don’t have to go into details if you don’t want to.”
“That’s ok,” Terry replied, “But there is something I haf to tell you...”
“What?” Dee asked.
“Well, with my grandmother gone,” she proceeded, “we needed a new Clan Mother, and, well, you’re it.”
“What?” Dee asked again.
“Before she died my gramma let people know that she wanted you to succeed her,” Terry pointed out, “and no one in the Clan objected to the idea, so... you’re the new matriarch of the Wolf Clan.”
Dee stared at her friend for a moment, her mouth almost hanging open. Then, she finally found her voice. “But... I can’t be a Clan Mother,” she proclaimed, then, after a substantial pause, continued, “I’m only twenty-six!”
Terry just shrugged, “So?”
“Don’t you think that’s a little young?” Dee asked.
“I’m sure we’ve had Clan Mothers that young before,” the blond mouse presumed.
“Didn’t you tell us that the only real prerequisite for being a Clan Mother was being the most respected female?” Raven asked her mother.
“Well, yeah, but,” Dee began to answer with some hesitance, “There... there has to be a certain amount of common sense to it too, logically speaking someone isn’t experienced enough for something like this at my age... I mean, I wasn’t ready to be a mother at thirteen, so how can I be ready to be a Clan Mother at twenty-six?!”
“My gramma thought you were ready,” Terry answered, “And apparently efryone else in the Clan’s ok with it.”
“Dee,” Chip intervened, “Maybe this can wait until after we’ve gotten the rest of our stops out of the way.” His fiancé agreed and after bidding esgöge:ae’ to Dee’s friend, they were off to check in with Thingamabob.
“Esgöge:ae’?” Fangs asked, mimicking the pronunciation perfectly.
“Literally translated it’s ‘I’ll see you again’,” Dee explained, “It’s our equivalent of ‘good-bye’.” There was a pause while a thought ran about through Dee’s mind. “Does anyone know what ‘bye’ actually means? Like where it comes from,” she eventually asked, “Is there such a thing as a ‘bad-bye’, or a ‘somewhat-bye’? I’m gonna hafta find a dictionary, this is gonna bother me.”
“Actually,” Chip proceeded to answer in a calm and analytical manner, “Goodbye is a contraction of the phrase ‘God be with ye’.”
Dee just stared at him for a moment. “How the hell do you know that?!” she eventually blurted out.
“Dale and I got into an argument about what ‘goodbye’ meant a couple months ago,” Chip pointed out, “I think it was the first time Dale ever spent any real time in a library... After getting done with the dictionary we all perused subjects of personal interest, and Dale eventually came up to me complaining about there not being any comic books. I was about to direct him to the children’s section when I thought to ask him to see if he could find a book about the history of comics.”
“Did he find one?” Dee asked.
“Yeah,” Chip replied, “and he spent the next few weeks referring to me as Dick Tracy.”
By the time Chip finished relating the story of Dale’s attempts to create a wristwatch radio, ala Dick Tracy, the Ranger Plane had arrived at the residence of Thingamabob “Bob” Hawfeather, his wife and his sister-in-law. As the passengers disembarked, a large brown mouse wearing a black jacket emerged from the collection of abandoned boxes and containers stacked against the back wall of a human’s house.
“I’m ba-ack!” Dee called over to her eldest sibling.
“Dee?” he called back, slightly confused by her lack of long hair. The two trotted up to each other and embraced, Bob lifting his sister off the ground as they did. “What happened? We thought maybe you and Chip had eloped to some tropical island or something.”
“Close,” Dee replied, “We are engaged.”
As Chip walked up, Bob grabbed his paw and yanked him over to wrap his other arm around his brother-in-law-to-be and with a few hearty slaps on the back sent the chipmunk’s fedora flying... which Dee caught for him. When Bob released him from his unnecessarily enthusiastic embrace, Chip retrieved his hat from his fiancé.
“Welcome to the family!” Bob declared.
“Thanks,” Chip replied, trying to get his fedora in just the right place atop his head.
“And while we’re on the subject of family,” Dee added, “While I was gone I discovered that Gadget is actually our half-sister!”
“Well that explains a lot,” Bob mentioned, then, after a little thought, added, “How did that happen? Like, when was she born?”
“Remember when Mom was gone and left you with Gramma?” Dee asked rhetorically, “Well now we know what she was up to.” Bob gave his ‘new’ sister a hug, during which Dee motioned Raven over. “And since she’s changed so much since you saw her last,” she stated to her brother, “this is your niece, Raven.”
Not entirely wanting to be hugged, Raven merely held out a paw. Giving her paw a firm shake, he needlessly pointed out, “You look exactly like your mother did at your age.” After a few moments he asked, “You don’t have any kids yet, yourself, do you?”
“No,” the girl replied, shaking her head, “My love life is a lot more conservative than hers. In fact, I only have one boyfriend.” Standing aside to point him out, she added, “This is Darkfire, but we all call him Fangs.” As the two males shook (as best they could since one had wings), she prefaced the next part of the introductions with a warning, “And if you react badly to this I’ll have to hurt you badly, but he’s a vampire bat.”
After observing his niece with an amused expression, Bob replied, “Why would I react badly?” Then he added lightly, “You’d haf to hurt me?”
“That’s no idle threat,” Dee replied, “She attacked Romulus over his reaction.”
“So the wolfes found you?” Bob asked, “Romulus demanded I help him figure out how to get where you were going, had to call in quite a few fafors. I was thinking of going after you myself there for awhile, after you were chosen as our new Clan Mother.”
“And you were ok with that?” Dee asked pointedly.
“About you being a Clan Mother? Hell yes!” Bob answered, “You got yourself adopted into a wolf pack, so why shouldn’t you lead the Wolf Clan?”
Dee mumbled something the others couldn’t quite decipher as she shook her head disapprovingly. “Listen, do you still have the Mom’s feather?” she eventually asked with obvious irritation.
“Sure, c’mon,” Bob replied as he motioned everyone inside. Once inside, as Bob departed to retrieve the feather, Dee introduced her party to her sisters-in-law.
“I guess you and Bob still haven’t found a new place to live,” Chip mentioned, remembering that Dee’s brother and his wife had been driven from their home by a cat the year before.
“We’re a little choosy about where to moof in,” his wife replied, “I’d like to get a family started so I don’t want some place we’ll haf to moof out of when the kids arrife.”
Dee pulled Gadget aside. “Y’know how I told you that our family was named after our Great-great-and-so-on-grandmother Asani’s lucky feather? Well it was passed down through the family from mother to eldest daughter, and, since we now know you’re the eldest daughter, I think you should have it.”
Gadget was a little surprised by the offer. “Thanks, I guess,” she replied, “Would ‘thanks’ be appropriate in a situation like this? I’ve never inherited a family heirloom before.”
Bob eventually emerged from a neighboring room carrying a light brown hawk’s feather. “I guess this belongs to you now,” he commented as he reached out to hand it to his half-sister. But, as Gadget reached out, herself, to receive the feather a gust of wind pushed in the improvised window. The loud thud of the dislodged fixture hitting the floor caused everyone to jump, and Bob, in particular, to drop the feather. Before anyone could grab the errant heirloom the wind slammed shut the front door, drawing away everyone’s attention. The whirling of the wind lifted the feather and swept it towards the hole where the window had once been.
“AAH!” Bob’s wife yelped as she spotted the feather and leapt for it. However, the wind was too swift, she was too short and the feather departed for the out of doors. Everyone soon piled outside in hopes of retrieving the feather. Fangs, being the only one capable of flight, took wing and immediately checked above the rodents’ residence and then in an ever widening circle in the immediate vicinity.
“You dumb-ass!” Bob’s sister-in-law shouted as she smacked him upside the head, “How could you let this happen?!” Hitting him some more, she continued berating the muscular mouse, “What’s wrong with you?! That was in your family for generations! Don’t you haf any coordination at all?!”
“Hey-hey-HEY!” Dee shouted up as she pushed her enraged sister-in-law back. “Like you said, that feather was in our family for generations,” she stated, motioning in the general direction of herself and her siblings, “not yours, so if anyone is going to get upset about this it should be us, not you!” As Dee turned her back, she heard her sister-in-law smack Bob one last time. “By the way,” she began calmly, turning back around, “since this is your house, wouldn’t a faulty window be your responsibility? Excuse me... your fault?” Dee’s sister-in-law crossed her arms and snorted defiantly.
“Couldn’t find it,” Fangs stated as he landed.
“Then I suppose we might as well move on then,” Dee concluded.
“Will your friends be coming to the Powwow tomorrow?” her sister-in-law asked.
“Tomorrow?” Dee asked, as much to herself as to her in-law, then finished without waiting for an answer, “Being in a coma can really mess up your internal calender... Yeah, we’ll be there.”
Airborne once more, the Ranger Plane winged it’s way towards the Allegany River. Fangs, as he had since reuniting with the others, chose to fly along side rather than try to squeeze into one of the seats.
“See where the river narrows up there?” Dee asked Gadget as she leaned forward between the two front seats.
“Isn’t that where we crossed last night?” Gadget replied.
“Yep, we’re going to land on that small clearing at the top of the retaining wall by the river,” Dee pointed out, “just before that land juts out into it.”
“Whoa, you got a brick road here?” Raven asked as she spotted the street that ran parallel to the river, just atop the steep fifteen foot embankment that sloped down to their destination.
“That’s the most picturesque strip in the city,” Dee explained, “The rest of the brick streets were either replaced or paved over.” As the passengers of the vehicle began to disembark, having landed well back from the edge of the wall, Dee proceeded to point out the significance of the site. “Back during the logging boom this stretch of land supported a rail line that came up out of what’s now the State Park. The logs would be dumped into the river upstream near where the Main Street Bridge is and the current would push them to the opposite side of the river... right across from where we are, where workers hauled them out of the water onto conveyors to the mill.”
“And they piled the finished wood boards right onto rail cars on that track we came in on,” Chip concluded.
“That’s why they built their mill on the far side of the river from their timber tracts,” Dee explained, “Otherwise they would have had to pay through the nose to use the Western New York & Pennsylvania Railroad’s line that went through the south of town.”
“Wouldn’t they have to pay to get their stuff across their lines anyway to come up from the Park?” Raven asked.
“They originally offered to pay for ‘right of way’ across the line,” Dee recounted, “But when the WNYPR refused to permit it and put guards along their line to prevent the construction of an intersecting line, the owner of the logging company provoked one of the guards to make a verbal threat against him at which point he filed an injunction against the WNYPR and had his men hack a way across their line before they could get the injunction lifted.” After a small pause, she added, “It’s one of those rare cases of local yokels screwing a large rail company rather than the other way around.”
Leading the others towards the large wall of bushes and vines that bordered one end of the clearing, Dee continued the local history lesson, “When the logging company went out of business early in the 1900's and the lines here were pulled up, some entrepreneurial rodents burrowed out a series of connecting tunnels behind the concrete slabs that make up the retaining wall and rented them out as river-front apartments.”
After passing through a tunnel of arching vines and roots, the party emerged into a fairly expansive courtyard. It was concealed from human sight by the trees and shrubs that formed a leafy dome overhead. Various rodents, some of them, judging by their demeanor, being young lovers, strolled along paths lined by small shade-loving flowers. In the center of one of the intersections was a stone pillar on which was situated a plaque. Dee led the others up to monument. “This is why we’re here,” she stated, motioning to the plaque.
Gadget proceeded to read the inscription aloud, “Dedicated in memory of those who were lost rescuing trapped residents during heavy flooding.” Beneath the dedication, Gadget read the names of those it referred to, “Michael Burrows, Timothy Bearclaw, ‘Black-paw’,” her voice caught for a second as she read the next name, “Amanda Hawkfeather, Terrence Lane.”
“What happened?” Chip asked.
“We get some pretty heavy snows around here, being downwind of Lake Erie and all,” an older male mouse declared as he walked up to the group, “And four years ago Winter decided to go out with a roar and gave us several days worth. Then, overnight, Spring moved in with a torrential downpour... So not only were we dealing with all that rain, we were dealing with all that snow the rain was melting. The people that built these apartments didn’t take that kind of punishment into account when they hollowed out those tunnels. Soon enough the lower tunnels were flooding and residents were moving for higher ground... some were smart enough to clear out of the tunnels entirely, but others stayed behind, not wanting to go out in the rain. They realized their mistake when the exit tunnels collapsed.
“Some tried to start digging through the obstructions right away,” the elder continued, “but when their new tunnels began to collapse right on top of them they thought better of it! Some of the trapped just climbed out their windows and up the vines that hang down over most of the wall here, but over there, at the clearing, there are no vines... so they were stuck, the tunnels between there and here having collapsed as well. I heard one boy fell into the river trying to scale the wall over towards the vines, but with all the rain coming down he couldn’t keep his grip. Hawkfeather got together a scaffold, like those used by window washers on tall buildings, to lower down to bring people up. She and the others got just about everyone out down there that were stuck.
“Burrows and Bearclaw were on the platform itself while Hawkfeather, Lane and Black-paw stayed up top to make sure the supports were secure and to haul the platform up themselves if the pulleys snagged. The platform was headed back down when a branch up there,” here the elder mouse pointed towards the ‘ceiling’ of the courtyard with his cane, “Well, you can’t see it from here, bad angle... But a branch came down and landed right on the supports. Lane and Black-paw were killed with the impact and Hawkfeather was knocked over the edge into the river while Burrows and Bearclaw went down with the platform.”
“They found Bearclaw’s body a few days later,” Dee added, “tangled in the shrubs in the wooded area we passed through last night. They were never able to find Burrows or Mom.”
“Oh, you’re Hawkfeather’s girl!” the elder mouse realized, “I didn’t recognize you at first. Are these friends of yours?”
“Friends and family,” Dee clarified, “They’re here on vacation.”
“These wouldn’t be the Rescue Rangers I’ve heard about, that were here last year?” the elder asked.
“Some of them,” Dee answered, “Including my long lost half-sister, Gadget.”
“Long lost half-sister,” the elder repeated, “Sounds like something from a soap opera.”
“We found some of her father’s old things and discovered that he had wanted to tell her about her real mother but died before he had the chance,” Dee explained, “Since then I’ve been wondering if Mom had intended to tell me and Bob about Gadget... but that this happened before she could.”
“I’m sure she did,” Chip mentioned, putting his arm around his fiancé tenderly.
“I’m sure she did, too,” the elder joined in, “Now, I’ve got to get on with my walk... It’s been a pleasure to meet all of you!”
As the elder mouse hobbled off, Chip turned back to the memorial. “I guess heroics run in the family,” he commented. Dee laid her head on Chip’s shoulder as Gadget ran her delicate fingers over her mother’s name.
Chapter Five
It was just passing noon by the time the Ranger Plane returned to Dee’s hanger. Much to Gadget’s delight, with the assistance of the new Balloon Retraction system entering the mill wasn’t quite as difficult as the night before.
Once everyone had disembarked, Dee called over to her daughter, “Hey, Raven, now that we’ve got all the necessary running around done, how would you like to go for a ride in the Banshee?”
“Sure!” Raven replied excitedly.
“I just gotta go through the pre-flight routines then we can get going!” Dee pointed out just as excitedly. She was surprised by how delighted she felt. Short of Chip proposing to her she couldn’t remember anything that had made her feel so good, she almost felt like laughing. However, she had to temper the joy brought on by doing something fun for one’s child since making a mistake preparing a jet for flight could have unpleasant consequences.
“Make sure you’re secured tightly,” Dee called back to her passenger once they were ready for take off. Receiving the ok from Raven, Dee pulled back the lever that lit the rockets and withing moments the aircraft was flung from the hanger.
As the smoke cleared, Chip heard the ‘pow’ of the Banshee’s ramjet engaging. “It could give you a heart attack just watching it launch,” he commented to Gadget.
“Well, the psychological reaction created by the sight of the sudden acceleration combined with the flash of the rockets and the billowing smoke is quite shocking,” Gadget responded, “But it sure was fun to watch!”
It wasn’t long after the departure of the Banshee that the Ranger Wing returned with it’s passengers. Chip was greatly relieved to see that Dale’s piloting had apparently been devoid of any blunders. Maybe one of these days I’ll be able to go up with him without fearing for my life, Chip thought to himself.
“It looks like they’re getting ready for one bonzer party in town!” Monty announced as he and the others disembarked.
“Yeah, they’re going to be having a powwow!” Dale elaborated.
“We heard,” Chip replied, “Dee made it clear she expects us to attend.”
“That’s a safe bet,” Monty laughed, “Like you could keep me and Dale ‘ere away from a party!”
The latecomers soon settled in and Dale located a movie of interest. Unlike most instances, his choice actually appealed to the others. ‘Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves’ provided a draw for everyone even if the appeal was different for everyone.
“I hear Costner had miniature cows brought in for the background to make it as historically accurate as possible,” Chip commented.
“If he really wanted to be historically accurate,” Monty snorted, “He coulda’ at least tried to speak with an accent... like all the other actors in this thing.” As Chip and Monty discussed Kevin Costner’s cinematic ego trip, their attention was drawn away by a distinctive screeching wail. “Sounds like the Misses is home!” Monty joked as he poked Chip in the arm.
Sure enough, Dee and Raven were on the landing approach in the Banshee. Chip, not having seen the jet land before, watched the hanger entrance intently wondering if it was as exhilarating as the takeoff. He was slightly disappointed... for one, it was over within a second, and two, there was nowhere near the pyrotechnic pizazz of the rocket assisted takeoff. But upon reflection, Chip realized the only way for there to be pyrotechnic pizazz was if it crashed and burst into flames... a visually spectacular sight he was perfectly content to do without.
“The only thing I can think of that would make being human tolerable would be if I could become a carrier pilot,” Dee commented to her passenger as they disembarked, “That would be a rush!”
“Did you enjoy the flight?” Chip asked his future stepdaughter.
“Shoot, who needs a roller coaster when you got my mom flying a jet?” Raven remarked, seemingly quite stunned by the experience.
“You whine like a mule! You are still alive!” Morgan Freeman spouted from the movie.
“Who asked you?” Raven snapped back.
“It didn’t seem that exciting when we were flying in it last year,” Dale responded.
“That’s because I wasn’t doing loops, barrel rolls, or skimming within inches of Red House Lake when you were flying in it last year,” Dee explained, “I could have, but by the time we had the spare time I had a broken leg and couldn’t fly.”
Dale couldn’t pass up the possibility to enjoy such a thrill. They had the time now, Dee was fit to fly... He wanted to go for loops, barrel rolls and skimming within inches of a lake! “Can I go for a ride with you next time?!” Dale asked excitedly, “Can I, can I, can I?!” His enthusiasm soon got the better of him and he ran up to Dee and grabbed the collar of her jumpsuit and pleaded emphatically, “Oh please, oh please, oh please!!” It didn’t help Dale that he was unintentionally shaking her. The response to his entreaties was a quick blow to the abdomen.
“DALE!” Foxy yelled upon see the incident.
As Dale crumpled to the floor, Dee realized what she’d done. “AHH! Dale, I’m sorry!” she proclaimed hurriedly, “It was a gut reaction!”
“Yer tellin’ me,” Dale croaked, still clutching his stomach.
Foxy shot Dee a very stern look as she helped Dale up. “At least I didn’t hit him as hard as last time,” Dee offered sheepishly. Following behind as Foxy led Dale back to the couch, Dee began to explain, “Not all the guys I was with took the news that I wasn’t that kind of girl anymore all that well and I, well, got into the habit of, whenever a guy grabs my clothes and starts pulling, hitting first and asking questions later.”
“It coulda’ been worse, lad,” Monty joined in, “Instead of using her fist she coulda’ used her knee, and instead of targeting your solar plexus she coulda’ gone for your-”
“We get the idea,” Chip interrupted as he and the other males cringed at the idea.
“I’m really, really sorry,” Dee offered once more. “No hard feelings?” she asked Dale, leaning over the back of the couch where he was seated, “Please?”
“Nah,” Dale groaned, “No hard feelings.”
“Anything I can get you?” Dee asked.
“Got any chocolate?” Dale responded with a smile.
“Think you can keep it down?” his hostess asked.
“C’mon, you didn’t hit me that hard!” the chipmunk boasted.
As Dee left to find some conciliatory chocolates, Chip laughed, “I don’t think anything short of being beheaded could stop Dale from eating chocolate!”
The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly as everyone found something, or someone to occupy themselves with. Dale quickly forgot about the incident earlier that afternoon after some chocolate and a promise that Dee would take him for a joyride in the Banshee... provided he could restrain himself for a day or two. The condition was more Chip’s idea than Dee’s, but was fairly easy to get Dale to agree to, especially after Chip claimed he simply lacked the willpower to control himself.
The sun was starting to dip behind the hills in the west when Chip, Dee, Raven and Fangs returned from a nature walk. Foxglove was still seated beside Dale, who had only left the television’s enticing glow a couple times for snacks or other ‘pressing matters’. Foxy was halfheartedly listening to Gadget explaining her latest time-killing project to Zipper in the background when she heard a familiar voice calling her from outside. From the frequency of the voice she knew it was one of her new winged acquaintances trying to be unobtrusive. Even though she could have a perfectly normal conversation with another bat through the closed sliding glass door without being overheard or bothering Dale’s tv watching, she considered it somewhat impolite.
Getting up from the couch, Foxy walked over to the door, slid it open and called over to her guest ‘out loud’, “Hi, Bert! What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to do some more sightseeing,” he replied as Bernie finally caught up with him and perched nearby.
“Well, I dunno, I’ll check,” Foxglove responded uncertainly. Turning back towards Dale she asked, “Sweetie, would you be upset if I went for some more sightseeing with Bert and Ernie?”
“Bernie,” Bernie corrected.
After realizing she wasn’t referring to the Sesame Street duo, Dale replied, “Your bat friends? Sure, you can go sightseeing with them.”
“Are you sure?” Foxglove asked. She knew that it wasn’t always a good thing to have a possessive boyfriend, but she was hoping Dale might actually express the desire to spend more time with her, maybe even behave just a little jealous.
“I don’t want to stand in the way of you having a good time,” Dale pointed out, “So go ahead and have some fun!”
“Well, if you insist,” Foxy responded as she took flight.
Monty just caught sight of Foxglove as she made her departure. Taking a seat near Dale, he asked, “Foxy going out with Bert and Ernie again?”
Zipper squeaked something at Monty as he joined him.
“Roight,” the Aussie replied, “Bert and Bernie.”
“Yep,” Dale responded simply.
“And you’re ok with that?” Monty asked.
“Sure,” Dale answered, “They’re just going sightseeing.”
“Ok,” Monty replied cautiously.
“Why? It isn’t a problem, is it?” Dale asked, concerned by his friend’s tone.
“I just wouldn’t want Foxy to get the impression you were taking her for granted,” Monty clarified, “I mean, you’re the reason she come with us on vacation and all.”
“Nah,” Dale dismissed casually, “Foxy can spend time with me at home, she didn’t have to come all this way.”
Monty popped a cheese snack in his mouth before replying, “But you’re not home now are you?”
“Well, no,” Dale answered.
“There ya’ go!”
“Go where?”
“Never mind, lad,” Monty chuckled.
==
The morning broke bright and sunny for the first day of the Powwow. The parking lots within walking distance of Vet’s Park were already starting to fill to capacity... much to the irritation of anyone who simply wanted to stop by the local businesses to pick something up and be on their way back home. The police officers directing traffic were too busy trying to keep drivers from hitting pedestrians to notice two rodent piloted aircraft pass by overhead. Dropping down behind an auto repair shop, the two vehicles landed among the trees and bushes that surround the human’s park. After disembarking, the Rangers, Dee, Raven, Fangs and Foxglove merged into the throng of mice, rats, lizards and other small animals attending the festival. Though they remained together for a while the group eventually dissolved into pairs or trios, each going their own way in search of new sights, foods, or crafts.
Raven and Fangs had found their way to where local Seneca performers were demonstrating various ceremonial dances. The young lady had become so distracted by the rhythmic movements of the dancers in their brightly colored garb that she hadn’t noticed her companion ducking away for a moment. Her focus on the dancers was broken, though, when she heard her beau call to her.
“I saw something, back when we passed one of the vendors,” Fangs began once he had Raven’s attention, “And I figured it would perfect for you, so I went on back to get it.” He held out his wing displaying the necklace he had purchased for her. Suspended from a gold chain was a turquoise pendant in the center of which was set the miniature sculpted image of a blackbird in flight.
“It’s beautiful!” the young mouse proclaimed as she examined it.
“Here,” the vampire murmured as he placed it around Raven’s neck.
“Thank you,” she replied softly and sweetly, hoping no one noticed how much she was blushing... at least, no one that wasn’t supposed to notice. Raven was about to give her chiropteran companion a quick kiss when she noticed, just over his shoulder, a male mouse just a little older than herself point in their direction.
“See, that’s the one I was talking about,” he mentioned to another.
Seeing Raven’s attention drawn away by something that she apparently found unpleasant, Fangs turned to see what was up. Both mouse and bat witnessed the unnecessarily exaggerated reaction of the mouse that had been spoken to as he caught sight of the vampire.
“Man! I didn’t think it was legal to go out looking like that!” the second mouse mentioned to his companion once he’d steadied himself, “At least not during the day!”
“Yeah, like I told you,” the first of the two replied as they began to walk past, “Like something that escaped from Frankenstein’s lab!” Walking on, he couldn’t help but look back one last time. “I’m tellin’ ya’, his mother shoulda’ done him a favor and drowned him when he was born,” he sneeringly commented to his companion.
Though his last comment wasn’t intended to be heard by anyone but his partner, it was more than loud enough for a bat. Such exchanges was one of the reasons Fangs had long avoided public gatherings, and to have such at that particular time was by no means a pleasant experience. This was readily apparent to Raven when she caught his expression when he turned back. Raven, herself, had heard what was said and was sickened by the callousness of the attitude expressed by it, but what stuck in her heart like a dagger was seeing how much it had hurt her friend. That was something the short tempered sorceress couldn’t let go unanswered. The thought of using her magic to reprimand the rodent never even entered her mind, though, not that it mattered as her anger had exceeded the point where she could focus her powers. Raven was going to take a more ‘paws on’ approach in her retribution.
The second of the two males, the one who had been the least insulting, turned to make a comment to his friend only to be stunned into silence when he noticed Raven charging in their direction. Had he even been capable of speech at the moment there wasn’t enough time to warn his companion before she tackled him. The two tumbled for a space before the male came to a rest on his stomach.
Raven, wasting no time, straddled her prey and grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled back hard. “If you thought my friend looked bad wait’ll you get a look at yourself in the mirror when I’m done with you!” she hissed.
“Hey!” the other male shouted as he attempted to break things up before things got broken. Raven just snarled at him when she saw his paw approach her, which he quickly withdrew.
“Get off me you crazy bitch!” the mouse beneath Raven hollered.
WHACK!
The sudden intervention of a cane on the back of his head was enough to startle Raven out of her rage. Looking up at the new combatant, she beheld an elderly female mouse sitting in a wheelchair looking quite cross.
“Ow!” whined the mouse upon whom Raven sat.
“What did I tell you about using that language in public?!” the wheelchair bound elder angrily queried. The young male merely looked up, as much as was possible in his position, while stroking his sore noggin. The elder repeated her question, “What did I tell you about using that language in public?!” Though the way she growled out her question made it sound more like a statement, it was obvious by her tone that she was going to get an answer... one way or another.
“But she attacked me for no reason!” the youth vainly protested in response.
“I may not be able to run or walk like I used to,” the elder mouse began, “but my hearing is as sharp as it effer was... and I heard what you said about her friend. If I had been her age and that had been my friend you were degrading, I’d haff already put you in a hospital!” Laying her cane across the armrests of her wheelchair, she continued, “I may not know the bat personally but I do know he’s not from around here which makes him our guest, and you do not go around insulting your guests... it makes our tribe look bad, it makes our family look bad, and it makes you look like an idiot!”
“I’m sorry, Gramma,” the young male mumbled.
“I’m only one of the people you should be apologizing to,” the mouse’s grandmother pointed out.
“I’m sorry I called you a freak,” the mouse called back towards Fangs.
“And,” his grandmother prodded.
“And I’m sorry I said your mother should haff drowned you,” the young mouse added.
“And,” the elder mouse prodded some more.
“And what?” the youth replied.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the girl sitting on you!” his grandmother shot back angrily, gesturing with her cane.
“But she attacked me!” the grandchild replied indignantly. His grandmother lifted her cane as if to crack him over the head again. “Ok!” the youth hastily stated, “I’m sorry I said those things about your friend, and called you a... what I called you.”
“Now was that so hard,” Raven commented as she climbed off of him.
As the young male stood up and brushed the dust and dirt off of his clothes his grandmother inquired, “Now am I going to be hearing from anybody else today about you behafing like this?”
“No, Gramma,” he replied with obvious annoyance before walking off.
“I-I’m sorry too,” his companion mentioned to Fangs, “I should haff known better.” Then he followed his friend off into the crowd.
Raven was busy brushing dirt off of her cloak as the elder mouse addressed her personally. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, be related to somebody named Hawkfeather?” she asked.
“My mother,” the girl replied.
“Then you must be Rafen,” the elder concluded with a sly smile.
Raven and Fangs looked at each other in confusion. “How do you know that?” the young mouse asked.
“Because when I saw you tackle my grandson I thought I’d gone back in time and was watching your mother,” came her reply, “I’m a friend of your family... both your mother’s and the Southmont’s.”
“I was wondering where you two had gotten to,” Dee proclaimed as she, Chip and Gadget walked up to the group.
“Hello, Dee!” the elder female greeted, “I see you finally came back to us! I’fe just been talking with your daughter.”
“Chip, Gadget, this is June Redtalon,” Dee introduced to her guests, “She’s the head of the Hawk Clan. June, this is Chip Maplewood, my fiancé...”
“Pleasure to meet you,” June stated as she shook paws with Chip.
“And this is Gadget Hackwrench,” Dee continued, “my long lost half-sister.”
“Half-sister?” came the inevitable question.
“We found out what Mom was up to the year before I was born,” Dee clarified.
“Oh... Yes, you definitely have your mother’s eyes,” June declared as she gave Gadget a good look, “It’s good to see that the Hawkfeather’s aren’t as close to dying out as it seemed.” Then, turning towards Chip, she asked, “So you’re Doohickey’s fiancé... Turn round, I want to get a good look at ya’.” Chip, after a short pause, very self-consciously turned himself about. “Ooh, fery nice,” June commented approvingly. “You’fe got some good taste there, girl,” she added to Dee, “I imagine it wasn’t hard getting the blessing of your Clan Mother.”
“Well, I have a question about that,” Dee replied, “How do I get out of being a Clan Mother?”
“Why would you want to do that?” June incredulously inquired, “I’d think you’d be pleased to know that your Clan thinks so highly of you, that they’re looking beyond your past.”
“That’s nice,” Dee conceded, “But what kind of Clan Mother can I be if I’m only twenty-six?”
“We had a Clan Mother who was eighteen at one point,” June explained, “Just because you live long enough to see your hair turn gray doesn’t mean you’re wise, it just means you’re lucky.”
Before Dee could further press her point, the group was joined by another female mouse. Tall and thin, the grey mouse had shoulder length black hair with streaks of silver. Her exceptionally stern expression was put off only a little by a patch of brown fur that covered much of the left of her face. “Doohickey,” she greeted Chip’s fiancé slowly, “I see the wolfes didn’t eat you after all.”
“Why would they eat me?” Dee replied with obvious irritation.
“The better question would why wouldn’t they,” the tall female countered, “Makes one wonder what you offer them.”
“Free cable,” Dee answered. It didn’t occur to her until after the words left her mouth that she should have let the matter rest, that she was just opening herself up to some kind of snide remark.
“I’m sure that’s what the guys tell the she wolfes,” the grey female remarked with a smarmy grin.
“And you are?” Chip interjected, quickly taking a dislike to this new acquaintance.
Her smile vanishing, the female glared down her snout at the chipmunk. Crossing her arms, she replied in an imperious voice, “I am Carol Halfshell. Matriarch of the Turtle Clan. Who do you think you are?”
“I’m Chip Maplewood,” he responded boldly, “A Rescue Ranger and Dee’s fiancé.”
Carol’s expression became one of clear disgust. “Figures you’d marry an outsider,” she commented to Dee, “You’fe already been liffing with them for years, like you’re too good to lif with the tribe.”
“She’s also my aunt,” Dee pointed out to the others, disregarding her relation’s insult.
“Don’t tell me Gadget and I are related to that thing!” Raven spouted loudly, pointing at Carol. The shear abrasiveness of the girl’s outburst was anything but unintentional... she sensed a fight coming and she wanted in on it, even if it meant helping to provoke it in the first place.
As Carol glared at Raven, Dee elaborated to her daughter about her relations, “Aunt Carol is my father’s older sister, and since Gadget has a different father she doesn’t have to share in our shame of being blood relations with her.”
Carol chose to let the most recent jab slip in order to satisfy a pressing curiosity. “And who is ‘Gadget’?” she asked.
“I am,” Gadget politely replied, “I’m Dee’s half-sister.”
Carol observed Gadget for a moment, then developed a broad and sinister smile. Dee rolled her eyes, she knew that whatever words were going to ooze from that mug were going to be unpleasant. She also felt sorry that her new-found relation to Gadget was going to be the cause of it. “So let me get this straight,” Carol eventually began, “While Doohickey’s mom was gone for a year she spent all that time drinkin’ and whorin’ with some lecherous foreigner and popped out some bastard half-breed... Like mother like daughter.”
Gadget may not have had enough of a chance to bond with her mother for the insult to her honor to have serious meaning, but no one talked that way about her father. “You dirty-” she began before Chip held her back.
“I’d beat the living hell out of you for that,” Dee responded in a slow and controlled manner, “but it wouldn’t be fair to lay into someone who is as... elderly as you are.”
“I’m hungry,” June interjected loudly, waving her cane between the other two Clan Mothers, “What say we find a table near the food and Chip, sweetheart, you can explain to me what it is you Rescue Rangers do.” Like boxers pulled apart by a referee, Dee, Gadget and their aunt backed away and ‘returned to their corners’. As Dee and her party began to head off to the communal picnic tent, June called back to the young mouse who was providing the motion for her wheelchair, “Ken, to the food!”
“How did that thing get to be a Clan Mother?” Chip asked once they were some distance from the aborted brawl, “I thought you had to be the most respected female in your Clan.” Chip looked back over his shoulder at his future in-law.
“There’s more than one form of respect in the world, Chip-honey,” June answered, “There’s the respect you get from being honest, hard-working, and haffing a sincere interest in the well-being of your friends, family and community...”
Chip watched as Carol bumped into a bystander that didn’t make way fast enough. “Out of my way!” she shouted as she shoved the bewildered individual aside like a bag of garbage, causing him to collide with a table of crafts, many of which wound up scattered on the ground.
“Then there’s the respect that comes from people being afraid of you,” June continued, “Carol chose the latter. She’s been bullying efryone in her Clan for years, and when the prefious Clan Mother died she simply declared that she was the new one.”
“And anyone who disagreed with her kept their mouths shut out of fear,” Chip realized.
“Is it me or has she gotten more irritating since I talked to her last?” Dee asked.
“It’s not your imagination,” June assured her, “I think she was hoping that the new matriarch of the Wolf Clan was going to be someone she could bully into submission, that way she could have twice as much influence ofer tribal affairs.”
“And she’s also jealous that she’s not the most beautiful,” Chip added as he took his fiancé’s paw. Dee couldn’t help but blush
“Oh she’s jealous all right,” the elder Clan Mother agreed, “Both of her youth and the fact she’s in good with a pack of wolfes. All Carol has is a gaggle of mice and rats to act as her toadies, and that bunch only do what she tells them because they know she’ll let them get away with petit theft and fandalism against efryone else in her Clan.”
“Speaking of toadies,” Ken spoke up as he brought the wheelchair to a sudden stop to avoid colliding with an amphibian, “Where did all these frogs come from?”
“I don’t know,” June replied, “Since I got here this morning they’fe been efrywhere, like there’s an infasion or something.”
“Then I suppose it’s fitting to point out that a large group of frogs is an ‘army’,” Chip added.
As Chip’s comment was considered by those present, a rat, his blond hair tied back in a ponytail, approached the gathering. “Bon jour, fellow rodents,” the rat opened in his heavy french accent, “I was merely minding my own business when ze accumulated beauty of so many lovely ladies drew- non, demanded my attention... and being one who admires beauty I felt compelled to come over.” The Frenchrat knelt before June, took one of her paws in his and proclaimed, after giving it a reverent kiss, “Madam, zough cruel fate has zentenced you to zis wheeled contraption, I can see in your eyes zat a great fire of passion still rages wizzin.” The elder mouse upon retrieving her paw, replied to his greeting in fluent Seneca, the meaning of which went right over his head. “Your people ‘ave such a noble language,” the rat replied at an utter loss for anything more intelligent to say.
Standing, the rat took Dee’s paw. But, as he bowed to plant a kiss, he noticed the engagement ring. His rather undignified shriek upon seeing it was quickly followed by a more stylish response. “Mon Dieu! I am too late, zis succulent fruit has been plucked by anozer,” he stated in apparent distress, then continued specifically to Dee, “I truly envy ze lucky bastard zat has snatched you up!” As soon as he looked away, Dee pulled a rag from one of her pockets and wiped off her paw.
Turning to Gadget, the rat made a point of checking her paw for a ring before bowing to kiss it. “Ma cherie,” he declared longingly, “Your eyes, zey are bleu as a Summer sky unfettered by ze jealous clouds who seek to hide eet’s beauty!” Reaching up with a paw, he caressed her hair, “Your hair, eet eez radiant as ze rays of ze golden sun which all ze flowers reach out in zere primal desire to know eet!” He proceeded to stroke her forearm as he continued, “And your fur, eet eez so soft that zere simply eez no equal!” In one swift motion, he pulled Gadget to him with one arm. “Zere eez zis little Parisian cafe on ze West Bank of ze Seine,” he breathed to her passionately, “You must go zere someday, I will be waiting!”
“Paws off my sister you frog!” Dee commanded, breaking them up.
“Non, non, I am not a frog,” the Frenchrat corrected. Then, grabbing one of the numerous amphibians loitering nearby and holding him up by the back of his neck, proclaimed, “Zis eez a frog!” The object lesson chortled, grabbed Gadget’s paw with it’s tongue, and kissed it intently.
“Ewww!” the offended mouse squeaked. Drawing back her paw, Gadget slapped the offending croaker hard... as hard as she could.
Tossing the bewildered amphibian aside, the rat declared, “Such force!” then dropped to his knees, “Such passion!” He grabbed her paw, “Please, I must have your name!”
“Gadget!” she replied, yanking back her paw, “Now who are you?”
“I am Philippe Marie-Suzon, ze greatest arteest in ze world!” the rat declared.
“That’s nice to know, Philippe,” June joined in with obvious irritation, “But you stopped us on our way to get something to eat, so if you’re done drooling at Gadget’s feet we’d like to be on our way while there’s still food left.”
“Of course!” Philippe blurted out as he leapt up, “Do not let me prevent you from partaking of ze culinary bazaar zat has been prepared for ze festivities.”
As Gadget and the others proceeded on their way, Chip turned to June, “What was it you said to him earlier?”
“Translated,” she answered, “what I told him was- I’m not as immobile as you think, touch me again and I’ll kick you where it hurts.” Noticing she got some surprised looks from the others, she added, “Hey, at my age I don’t haff time for that kind of insincere flattery.”
Philippe stood where they’d left him, unable to take his eyes off Gadget. He studied every line and curve as she walked further away, remembering everything for future inspiration. So enamored by her he was, that he was oblivious to the frog walking up to him.
“Monsieur,” the frog croaked, “Do you think Mademoiselle ‘Alfshell would-”
The sentence went unfinished as Philippe grabbed the frog by his throat and shook him angrily, “‘Ow dare you interrupt me when I’m admiring Nature’s beauty!” Throwing his hapless lackey aside, he tried to find Gadget again, but she had disappeared into the crowd. “Sacré bleu! I’ve lost ‘er!” Lifting the frog up, he demanded, “Now what eez eet you were trying to say?”
“Would Mademoiselle ‘Alfshell approve of you flirting with anozer girl?” came the reply.
“Do you see ‘er anywhere?” Philippe asked. Looking around quickly, the frog shook his head ‘no’. “Do you plan to tell ‘er I was flirting with anozer girl?” he asked further. Once more, the frog shook his head ‘no’. “Zen who cares?!” Philippe proclaimed as he dropped his cohort, “She will never know! Now come, I must make art while eet eez fresh in my mind.”
Chapter Six
Dale and Foxglove were hit with the desire to feed at about the same time as Chip, Dee and the others making it inevitable that they would meet back up at the picnic tent. There was the appropriate exchange of introductions before a table was staked out for the whole group. June opted to stay behind and hold the table while the others grabbed the grub. At the buffet tables were arrayed a variety of foods both common and exotic... including a dizzying number of dishes made of insects. Zipper was grateful, at least, to see there were no flies among the delicacies provided.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve eaten any bugs,” Chip commented as he watched his fiancé pile a small mountain of roast termites on her poker chip plate, “My mom would never eat anything that could scream, so I only had insects when staying at a friend’s place.”
“I’ve found that if you grab ‘em and bite the head off real quick there’s not enough time for them to scream,” Dee commented, “Didn’t you have any after you moved out on your own?”
“Nah, me and Dale moved right to the city,” Chip began to explain, “Once we got there it was easier to supplement our diet with human food.”
Returning to the table, Dee pointed out the reason for the sheer volume of insects among the dishes provided. “Our tribe’s always had a higher than normal percentage of crawly things in our diet,” she mentioned a she took her seat, “Having to hunt for insects so often kept our warriors in good fighting shape.”
“Talking about hunting and eating,” Fangs interjected, “I think I’ll go find myself a nice juicy cow.” With that, he politely dismissed himself to grab his daily dose of blood.
“I guess I should thank your tribe then,” Foxglove mentioned to Dee, “It’s not often I get to eat a prepared meal of insects.”
“Bugs weren’t the only things we would hunt,” June added to the discussion, “We were still hunting cats as recently as one-hundred and fifty years ago.”
“You gotta be pullin’ me leg,” Monterrey declared.
“No,” June replied, “Efry time the Clan Mothers would swear in a new Chief he would lead the tribe’s best warriors on a ceremonial cat hunt to proof his right to lead the tribe in battle. The bones would be used to build important structures and the meat was cured and stored for special occasions, like weddings, powwows, adoptions. According to our legends it was a Chief who belonged to the Wolf Clan that started the tradition, he claimed his ancestors spoke to him in his dreams and stated that they must learn to hunt and fight like wolfes to ensure the tribe’s strength.”
“And it worked,” Dee pointed out, “Once word got around to neighboring tribes that we hunted cats they were too terrified to start wars with us.” After finishing off a termite, she added, “Not that it stopped us from starting wars with them.”
“Dale, dear, you’re not eating,” June stated as she noticed the chipmunk just staring at a roast termite, “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Yeah, but,” Dale began, “It’s looking at me!”
Dee promptly reached over and tore off the termite’s head and popped it in her mouth. “Lemme know if any of it’s udder parts bodder you,” she mumbled through her full mouth.
“I guess the termite’s always tastier on the other plate,” Chip commented.
“It’s no problem, Dale,” Monterrey offered, “Just pretend you’re Godzilla or something, eating terrified villagers.”
As Dale began to tentatively gobble his grub, Chip tried out one of the fried insect wings he’d grabbed. After a few bites, the spices began to register with his taste buds. “Ooh!” came his distressed remark. Everyone watched as he dutifully finished chewing what he had in his mouth before swallowing it, then attempting to alleviate the torment by gulping down the full contents of his thimble of soda.
“Buffalo wing?” Dee asked, to which Chip replied with frantic nodding.
“Oh, Chip, you big baby!” Dale remarked, “It can’t be that spicy.”
“Oh yeah?” Chip shot back, “You have one!” Grabbing another wing from his plate he shoved it in front of Dale. “Go ahead!” he dared his friend.
“Sure!” Dale proclaimed, “I’ll show you who’s a real man here!” Dale crammed the whole wing in his mouth and began chewing enthusiastically. Then he suddenly stopped. Dale’s lips, then his nose and eventually ears all began twitching in a disturbing manner. As his eyes began to water, he forced himself to continue chewing. Struggling onward, he shook his head and pounded the table with his paw. Then with a rather loud ‘gulp’ he finished the wing. “Delicious,” Dale wheezed painfully before downing his soda.
“Hey, Monty,” Dee called, “Let’s see if you’re any better with these!”
“I’d love to,” Monterrey replied, “But I’d like to get more of those chee-e-eese balls before they’re all gone.”
As Monterrey left the table, June spotted someone at another table. “I think that’s my brother over there,” she stated, “Ken, could you wheel me over there, I’d like to talk to him.” When June passed behind Chip he let out a startled yelp.
Looking about in disbelief, Chip declared, “She just pinched my butt!”
“I think at her age you can do those kinds of things,” Foxglove supposed. Leaning in towards Dale she breathed, “But you don’t have to wait till then.”
“I-I think I’ll go get some more villagers,” Dale stammered as he stood up, “er, I mean termites!” Foxglove just huffed quietly as Dale shuffled off.
“We’ve met two of the other Clan Mothers,” Chip mentioned, “I wonder if we’ll get a chance to meet the others while we’re here.”
“The matriarch of the Bear Clan’s right over there,” Dee explained, pointing towards Monterrey.
“I don’t see her,” Chip replied.
“The tall one,” Dee clarified.
“I’m still not sure,” Chip mumbled, “On which side of that huge badger is she?”
“She is the badger,” Dee verified.
“You have a carnivorous Clan Mother?” Chip asked.
“Sure,” Dee replied, “We’ll adopt just about anybody into the tribe under the right circumstances. Her name’s Charity Rose,” she continued after making room for Dale to sit back down, “she’s the fourth generation of her family to be part of our tribe... she obviously had to have roots outside the tribe with a name like Rose.”
“Don’t you have to have a blood tie to the tribe to be a member?” Raven asked.
“Nope,” Dee answered, “Just as long as your mother’s a member, whether by birth or by adoption.”
“I bet your Aunt Carol doesn’t try bullying her,” Chip remarked.
“Actually, she’s the one that started referring to her as ‘Bruin-Hilda’,” Dee pointed out, “but no one in their right mind calls her that to her face.”
While the conversation concerning that particular Clan Mother continued, Monterrey was making his own introductions. “Could you hurry it up there?” he asked, growing short on patience, “Yer blockin’ the cheese balls!”
“Well if the cheese balls have a problem with my standing here I’m sure they’ll tell me to move,” Charity replied lightly as she continued filling her plate.
“Oh real funny,” Monterrey returned. Looking up at the substantial carnivore before him, and unaware from the view that it was a female, he pointed out the dangers of keeping him from his favorite dietary element, “Listen, mate, I’ve been known to move mountains to get at my cheese and I’m not above doin’ it again!”
“Have fun,” she called back to him, “By the time you get Everest to the Alps I should be done here.”
“That’s it!” Monterrey set down his plate and grabbed Charity around her waist (though he couldn’t quite get his arms all the way around) and hoisted her up.
It wasn’t often anyone ever actually tried anything physical with her, and it was even more rare for someone as apparently short as he was to lift her off her feet and move her with such ease. Still, what he’d done was grossly inappropriate and he had to be made aware of that. Once Monterrey had let go of her, Charity spun about and grabbed hold of his sweater and lifted him with one paw. “Where do you get off touching me like that?!” she snarled. Then, as she glared at him, she realized something. “Hey, yer kinda’ cute!” she chirped in her own burly way.
Not willing to take that kind of comment from what he still assumed was a guy, Monty growled, “Oh-ho, yer askin’ for it!”
“I certainly am, big boy!” Charity cooed.
“You-” Monterrey began before coming to a sudden realization, “Wait, you’re a female!”
“And you’re all male,” Charity replied, “and all mine!” Tossing Monterrey over her shoulder, she declared, “Sorry ladies, this one’s taken!”
“Don’t I at least get a last meal?”
Not having heard the details of the exchange, Chip asked Dee, a little worried as Charity hauled off her catch, “She’s, um, not going to eat him... is she?”
Foxglove, on the other hand, had heard the exchange. “That’s not the, uh... type of hunger she’s motivated by,” she replied.
“Poor Monty,” Dale commented.
“We really should stop her,” Chip pointed out.
Just as Charity was about to leave the picnic tent, her way was blocked by Chip, Dee and Dale. “Hae’, Charity!” Dee greeted her.
“Hi, Dee,” the badger returned, “Hey, you cut your hair!”
“Yeah...” the mouse answered quickly.
“You’ve got our friend there,” Chip added before Dee could form the words.
“Mine!” Charity countered in a childishly possessive manner, clutching Monterrey tighter.
“What am I here,” Monterrey asked loudly, “a bloomin’ football?!”
“We don’t want to take him from you,” Dee pointed out, “I was just thinking maybe I could introduce you to my friends properly.”
Charity thought for a moment. “Well, I guess,” she finally agreed, turning to follow Dee and Chip back to their table, still toting Monty around.
“If you’re going to be carrying me back,” Monterrey piped up, “Could you at least stop at the buffet so I could pick up some CHEESE?!”
Everyone had only just sat down when Bob, his wife and a third mouse arrived at their table. “See, I told ya I could find her,” Bob said to his companion before he and his wife found a spot to sit.
“Hae’,” the male mouse greeted Dee as he walked up.
“Hae’,” she greeted back, “What’s up?”
“We’ve gotta problem with the set-up for makin’ corn soup,” he pointed out.
“What happened?” Dee inquired further.
“One of the cook’s assistants forgot you shouldn’t add the lye when the water’s boiling,” the mouse elaborated.
“Is he ok?”
“I think he hurt himself worse trying to run from the scene.”
“I guess I’ll go take an inventory of the damage,” Dee stated as she began to get up.
“No, you don’t have to do that now,” the mouse explained, “It’ll take us the rest of the day just to decontaminate the area. Gerry says we haff enough soup already cooked up to last the rest of the Powwow anyhow, so efen when it is cleaned up it’s not going to be a rush job.”
As the messenger departed and Dee returned to her seat, Gadget voiced what she assumed was a very innocuous question, “Isn’t lye used in rat poison?”
“YOU’RE POISONING THE SOUP!” Dale exclaimed, bits of food spewing from his mouth.
Dee quickly grabbed the screaming chipmunk, clamping a paw over his mouth. “Could you say that louder next time?” she asked sarcastically, “I think there are a couple deaf people in Gowanda who didn’t hear you!” Without bothering to uncover his mouth, Dee began to explain to Dale why there was poison involved in the cooking process, “We use the lye to hull the kernels of corn, once that’s done the corn is rinsed very thoroughly before it’s diced and added to the soup.” Shaking her head as slowly as she spoke, Dee pointed out, “There is no lye in the soup.” Dale managed to mumble an ‘I understand’ through Dee’s paw, after which she released him.
“Bob’s haffing some of it right now,” his wife pointed out, “and he’s not dropping dead. You can efen try some of mine to see for yourself,” she added, offering Dale her bowl.
Seeing his hesitation, Monterrey blurted out, “C’mon, lad, sometimes ya gotta be daring!” Taking the bowl, he took a few sips. Setting it back down Monterrey declared, “See? Nothin’ to worry about.” Then he started gagging and fell off the bench.
“MONTY!” Dale screamed.
“Just joshin’ ya, lad,” the Aussie reassured his friend, getting back up on the bench, “The soup’s fine, not as spicy as I’d like, but I wouldn’t send it back.”
Dale warily lifted the bowl and took a few sips. “Hm,” he murmured, then took a larger sip... then a gulp.
“Hey-HEY!” shouted Bob’s wife, taking back her bowl, “I said you could try some. If you want more you can get your own.”
“Okey-dokey,” Dale stated, getting up. As he began to walk off, he turned back, “You wanna bowl, Foxy?”
“Sure!” she chirped.
Dale had just returned with two bowls of corn soup for himself and Foxglove when somewhere a cry rang out. “THIEF!” someone shouted, “THIEF! HE STOLE MY... THING!”
“Stole his thing?” Dee and Chip asked each other aloud. As they pondered what thing was stolen a weasel frantically bounded down the table. Once everyone had recovered from the shock, they saw the same weasel leaping to, over, and across other tables.
“Whatever he stole he’s going to hurt someone running like that!” Chip shouted as he watched mice, rats and every other species in the picnic area trying to capture the rampaging renegade.
“Don’t worry there, Chipper!” Monterrey declared, “I’ve got myself an idea!” Racing to the edge of the picnic tent, he gathered up a length of rope form around the support poles. By the time Monterrey returned, however, the weasel was nowhere to be found.
As everyone looked around in confusion, someone noticed something odd, “Hey, this pitcher of water’s starin’ at me!” No sooner had the words left his mouth than the missing weasel exploded forth from the tiny vessel followed by a fine spray of water.
“Ooh!” Dee squeaked, “That’s a neat trick!”
By then, Monterrey, standing atop the table, had fashioned the rope into a makeshift lariat. “Learned this lassoin’ lemmings in Laredo!” he proclaimed, swirling the rope above his head. No one bothered to ask how one finds him or herself lassoing Laredo lemmings, especially considering lemmings are arctic critters and Laredo is in Texas, they were more interested in seeing if Monterrey could actually rope the weasel. As the stampeding weasel made another pass down a neighboring table Monty let loose his lasso, and snared the carnivore. “Ha, I still haAAA!!” he yelled as the momentum of the stampeding weasel yanked him from his footing and down the length of the table.
Righting himself in time, Monterrey was able to hop to the next table, where each foot landed in a plate of mashed beans. With his new footwear he surfed down the table, pulling himself ever forward on the rope, gaining on his target all the while. Hitting a bump hidden by the tablecloth, Monterrey lost his footing once more and took a header into a vat of corn soup. Not that he let go of the rope at any time, and soon was flying along behind the weasel once more.
Swallowing a mouthful of soup, then picking bits of corn, beans and salt pork from his clothes and popping them in his mouth he laughed, “Now that’s what I call fast food!” With a few more pulls on the rope he managed to get a hold of the weasel’s tail and began climbing up the carnivore’s undulating back. Looping a length of rope around his snout, Monterrey finally had a reign on the issue. The weasel, finally slowing, bucked wildly trying to throw his rider. Holding his rein in one paw, Monterrey removed his leather cap waved it about with a loud, “YEE-HAW!”
“Ride ‘em, Monty!” Dale shouted as the crowd cheered the wild show.
With exhaustion setting in, the weasel’s breath came in gasps. Finally accepting defeat and with a, “Hoo-boy,” the suspect finally flopped to the ground. Hopping off, Monty had him hogtied within seconds... and the crowd went wild.
“Oh, that was so amazing!” Charity shouted as she ran up to Monty. Clutching him to her enormous furry figure she spun about. “You’re better than a movie!” Charity squealed, “And you’re mine!”
Two rats in blue uniforms raced up, the red flags with white emblems on their shoulders signifying their employment by the Tribal Police. Lifting the unconscious suspect off the ground, they prepared to convey him to jail. Just as they were about to depart, Carol Halfshell pushed her way out of the crowd and approached them.
“Good, a couple of our guys have him,” she stated openly as if to inform the masses. Walking right up to the two officers, she directed them quietly, “Good job, boys, now get this joker to the tribal lock-up.”
The two rats looked at each other before one asked, “Why?”
Carol’s mouth almost hung open. “Why?!” she repeated in obvious annoyance, “Take a look around! He ran rampant through our festival, obliterated our picnic area... I think this clearly constitutes a crime against our tribe!”
The two rats looked back at each other again before the second pointed out, quoting the local law as clearly as he could remember, “The commission of any offense against the general public at an efent open to all is to be dealt with through the rodent courts of the City of Salamanca.”
“Don’t you go quoting the law to me like I’m some kind of retarded child!” Carol snapped back. Thinking there might be some kind of trouble, Chip motioned the other Rangers to head over. They were unaware that June Redtalon had also motioned to her attendant to wheel her over for the same reason. “I know the law,” Carol continued, “And I also know their law is rigged so people like him can get off! You actually think a jury of his peers is going to find him guilty? That agreement that turns people like him over to his own kind was signed by a bunch of traitors and half-breeds!”
“But enough about yourself, Carol,” June spoke up, “These two boys were just about to cart this trouble maker off to jail. You wouldn’t want them to just stand here while you yell at them, I’m sure that guy isn’t as light as he looks.”
“Got that right,” one of the officers affirmed, then, turning to his partner, stated, “C’mon, let’s get going.”
Carol glared briefly at June, then turned to leave. Nearly running into Dee, who had followed Chip up to the disturbance, she considered shoving her aside but simply mumbled, “Whore,” then walked off.
Dee was about to retaliate when she felt her elbow ensnared by the handle of a cane. “Doohickey,” June stated sternly, “We don’t go around beating up Clan Mothers... no matter how badly they might deserfe it.” Bringing her cane back, she continued, “Besides, you know she’s got it coming one of these days.”
“What do you mean?” Dale asked.
“When someone comes to power through threats and intimidation, like she did,” June began to explain, “You don’t haff many friends, and your supporters only support you if there’s something in it for them... One of these days she’ll find herself backed into a corner with nothing left to offer her thugs for their support, her only hope will be to rely on her friends... and there won’t be any.”
“And everyone she’s threatened and intimidated are gonna come looking for payback,” Chip finished.
As Dee and Chip walked back to the table, she broached a thought that had popped into her mind earlier, “I’d like to see if I could recruit that weasel for my own Ranger team.”
“You want to recruit a possible criminal?” Chip asked in disbelief.
“Suspected criminal,” Dee corrected, “He hasn’t even been tried yet.”
“Whether or not he stole anything,” Chip replied, “Just look at the devastation he caused here in the picnic area.”
“Didn’t you tell me that when you and Dale met Monty,” Dee countered, “the three of you got into an enormous fight that trashed the cargo hold of a freighter?” Chip shrugged and nodded. “Gonna hafta go downtown later to check when his trial’s gonna be.” The two lovers joined others in trying to clean things up among the tables.
Not long after efforts began to right the tables and dispose of dumped food, the background noise of talking and working was joined with an ever louder croaking sound. “Sounds like those frogs are having their own little get together,” Chip commented.
“Well, they’re not around here anymore, that’s for sure,” Dee added after looking around.
Dale then let out a rather obnoxious belch. “Just because things look like a pig sty doesn’t mean you have to act like one,” Chip scolded his friend.
Bob then let go with an oral expulsion of gas. “Don’t you get started,” his wife remarked to him. Then she burped. “Sorry!” she commented as she began to blush.
Then Foxglove joined in, followed by Dale again. Soon, just about everyone around was belching repeatedly. Chip and Dee looked around in astonishment. “I know laughing and yawning are supposed to be contagious,” Chip remarked, “but this is ridiculous!”
“Bud,” Bob belched, at least that’s what it sounded like.
Dale couldn’t help himself, “Weis,” he replied with his next burp.
“Er,” Monterrey concluded with his next expulsion.
The three hurriedly lined up... “Bud,” “Weis,” “Er.”
“Bud,” “Weis,” “Er.”
“Bud,” “Weis,” “Er.”
The mice and chipmunk continued their Budweiser frog improv routine to the periodic laugh-belches of others around them. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” Dee groaned while Chip merely shook his head.
“Golly! What could possibly be causing this?” Gadget asked.
“And why isn’t it affecting us?” Raven asked to the other three.
It was at that point that Fangs flew in. He was dumbstruck by the chorus of belching, which only lasted for another minute. “What the hell was that?” he asked.
As the previously belching crowd looked around in confusion, some starting to laugh at the absurdity of the whole experience, Chip provided the only answer he could think of, “It looks like a case for the Rescue Rangers.”
Chapter Seven
“Chip, we’re on vacation,” Dale whined, “Why do we always wind up taking a case in the middle of our vacations?”
“You gotta admit, it’s a good question,” Monterrey pointed out.
“What are you talking about?” Dee broke in, “Just last year you had three weeks off without a case... I should know, I was there.”
“She’s right,” Chip concurred, “Not all our vacations get interrupted with cases. If anything, it adds a little spice to things!” Now that his deductive juices were flowing, Chip got down to business, “Whatever caused that mass belching was undoubtedly caused by what people had eaten, so we should interview as many people as possible to see what they ate and if they experienced that unusual activity... We should try to find out if those who experienced it might have some food or drink they had consumed in common.”
“We should probably start with ourselves,” Gadget offered. One by one everyone recounted what they had eaten and drunk since they had arrived.
“Just from our limited sample it looks like the corn soup is the only thing that might have caused the phenomenon,” Chip gathered, “But we should still get a larger sample just to be sure.”
“We should probably collect samples of the different foods,” Foxglove spoke up, “Before what’s here gets disposed of for the day.”
“Good thinking, Foxglove!” Chip chirped, “Gadget, I want you to be responsible for collecting the samples. Everyone else, start asking questions.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to make a stop over to the city jail to check on that weasel,” Dee interjected.
“I’ll go with you,” Chip jumped in, “Maybe they’ll let me ask him a few questions.”
==
Deep in the walls of the stately former city hall, Chip and Dee arrived at the processing desk of the city’s rodent Police Department. Walking up to a nondescript mouse who was looking over some paperwork, Dee introduced herself. “We’re here about that weasel that should have been brought in by a couple Nation cops,” she explained.
Shuffling through a few papers, the desk sergeant found the relevant document. “Drywall,” he read off the offender’s sheet, “Charged with causing a disturbance at the Powwow and a couple people came in with him and the Nation cops pressing theft charges.”
“That’s the one,” Dee affirmed.
“You here to add to the charges,” the mouse asked, “either for the Nation or yourself?”
“No,” Dee answered, “My friend and I would like to talk to him, if that won’t be a problem.”
Looking up at a human’s wristwatch mounted on the wall as a clock, the policemouse thought for a second. “You may have to wait till after the trial for that,” he replied, “It’ll be starting in a few minutes.”
“Isn’t that a little sudden?” Chip asked, surprised by the swiftness of local justice.
“It’s just on the theft charges,” the mouse at the desk pointed out, “The person who filed the charges was insistent on things being wrapped up quickly because he was just passing through on his way to Jamestown... Since he brought a witness with him, Brown decided to move it up on the docket. The weasel probably won’t be tried for the ruckus he caused until we get confirmation that the Nation wants to charge him.”
“Down in the basement, right?” Dee asked, referring to the site of the impending trial.
“Yep,” the officer replied.
Thanking the mouse for his assistance, Dee and Chip made their way down to the ‘basement’. In days past, the lowest level of the old city hall had been the Police Headquarters for the humans, but more recently it had been turned over for their use as cheap apartments and storage. The rodents chose the lesser used storage rooms for their short term detention cells and courtrooms.
After arriving at the appropriate courtroom, Dee and Chip took seats among the other spectators, lawyers, and clients. Still awaiting the arrival of the judge, a middle aged male mouse in a stately suit took a seat beside Dee.
“Good afternoon, Ms Hawkfeather,” he greeted Dee pleasantly, “Congratulations on becoming a Clan Mother!”
“Bite me!” Dee snapped at him.
“Dee!” was Chip’s startled response.
“Sorry,” the lady apologized to both. Turning to their new acquaintance, Dee explained, “I’m just not particularly pleased at being a Clan Mother.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the newcomer replied, “I hear that when Washington took the first oath of office he remarked that he felt like ‘a scoundrel being led to his doom’... Guess it comes with having to accept power.”
“Oh, Chip,” Dee started in, “This is Daryl Bentwood, the city’s leading prosecutor. Daryl, this is my fiancé Chip Maplewood.”
“Chip,” Daryl said, almost to himself as two rodents shook paws over Dee’s lap, “You wouldn’t happen to be one of the Rescue Rangers, would you?” Chip replied in the affirmative. “I heard how you all saved Mr Tanner and broke up that gang that had kidnaped him last year, that was some good work!” After Chip thanked him appreciatively, Daryl asked, “You two aren’t here on official business, are you?”
“Well, yes and no,” Dee answered, “I’d like to talk to the weasel coming up for trial here about becoming part of a local Rescue Ranger team... provided he doesn’t get jail time.”
“Everybody please rise for the Honorable Judge Herbert Brown.” one of the bailiffs called out.
A brown mouse in a judicial robe hobbled into the courtroom, his mouth barely visible beneath his bushy grey mustache. “Everybody sit down,” Judge Brown mumbled at the court as he took his seat. “Well, let’s get this thing started,” he declared gruffly, “This is a trial of Highball Weasel...”
“My client’s name is Drywall Weasel, Your Honor,” the public defender replied, motioning to the defendant who was locked in a cage.
“I like Highball better, but what’re ya’ gonna do,” Judge Brown returned, “Now, who’s the Plaintiff here?”
“I am, Your Honor,” the mouse sitting at one of the tables up front stated standing up. “My name is Milton Hemlock, and that thing,” he continued, gesturing accusingly at Drywall, “stole a very valuable crystal rose from me at today’s festivities.”
Chip leaned over to his fiancé and muttered, “You know, he kinda sounds familiar.”
“That rose,” Mr Hemlock continued, “was a family heirloom, handed down from my Great-grandmother Gertrude... It was more than valuable, it was priceless.”
“Says here that nothing, priceless or otherwise, was found on Mr Weasel’s person,” Judge Brown stated, reading off of the hastily written case file. All the while, the defendant stared intently at whoever was speaking, wringing his paws nervously.
“I know, Your Honor,” Mr Hemlock lamented, “That thug probably tossed his ill-gotten booty aside when good law abiding citizens gave chase, and given the absolute catastrophe he caused in his cowardly attempt to flee justice, Great-gramma Gertie’s beautiful rose has probably been smashed into tiny pieces.”
Chip once more leaned over. “He sounds just like a con artist from back home,” he whispered, “We kept having run-ins with him and his partner.”
“Are there any witnesses to this crime?” the judge queried.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Mr Hemlock stated with certainty, “I made sure to enlist the help of one of your local citizens who nobly volunteered to do his civic duty and come forward with his eyewitness testimony.” Slightly turning, he motioned his witness to stand. Doing so, Chip got a good look at the plaintiff’s face as well as his companion.
“That’s him!” Chip whispered sharply, “I mean, that’s them!”
“Your Honor,” Dee stated loudly as she stood, “May I approach the bench?”
Looking out into the gallery, Judge Brown recognized the young female. “Ms Hawkfeather,” he addressed her, “You’re not going to cause my bench to explode again, are you?”
“No, sir,” Dee responded politely, “And technically speaking your bench didn’t explode, it caught fire.”
“Whatever,” he replied, “All I remember is there were a lot of flames.” Getting back to the point he declared, “As long as what you have to say has some bearing on this case, you may approach the bench.”
As Dee walked forward, Chip stood and followed. Making eye contact with the plaintiff while walking past, Chip was certain of his identity. It was also clear from the ‘deer in the headlights’ expression that ‘Mr Hemlock’ recognized him as well. Once at the judge’s bench, Dee provided a quick introduction, “Your Honor, this is Chip Maplewood, leader of the Rescue Rangers... and my fiancé.”
“Congratulations,” Judge Brown replied, “Now why are you here?”
“Your Honor,” Chip started, “The other Rescue Rangers and myself have had several encounters with Mr Hemlock and his supposed witness. Their real names are Richard Hertz and Dorf Finton, they’re con artists. We hadn’t heard anything about them in a while and were thinking they might’ve straightened out... Apparently they just moved on to less suspecting communities.”
The judge digested the information for a moment. Looking over towards the Plaintiff and his ‘witness’ he noticed them having a hushed yet highly animated discussion. “Would the Plaintiff and witness please approach the bench,” Judge Brown ordered.
Looking back at the judge with a mixture of surprise and fear, Mr Hemlock, a.k.a. Richard Hertz, stammered, “I-I don’t think that’s, um, really necessary, Your Honor.”
“You can approach the bench under your own power or I can have the bailiffs drag you up here,” the judge responded, “Either way’s fine with me.” After a moment of deliberation the two cons hesitantly approached the bench. “This young chipmunk here has leveled the charge that the two of you could be a couple scam artists tryin’ to put one over on me,” Judge Brown explained, “What do you have to say for yourselves?”
Sputtering in mock offense, Richard replied indignantly, “I can’t believe this, Your Honor! I have never seen this chipmunk before in my life nor have any idea why he would be making such ludicrous and hurtful accusations! I, Milton Hemlock, have never engaged in the kind of criminal behavior this person is claiming, and I’m certain this fine citizen here...” he trailed off, turning back to his partner. “What was your name again?” he fraudulently asked.
“Oh, uh, Bob Jones,” Dorf answered mechanically.
“And I’m sure Mr Jones here has never engaged in that kind of clearly illegal and immoral behavior either,” Richard finished.
“Hi, Dorf!” Chip waved cheerfully to ‘Mr Jones’.
“Hi, Chip!” came the equally cheerful reply. Richard smacked himself in the forehead in shear frustration.
“Bailiff,” Judge Brown called, “Place these two under arrest for fraud and... whatever it is when they waste my time.”
“Filing false charges?” one of the bailiffs asked as he came forward to escort the two criminals out.
“That’s it.”
“How can you hold us when this bozo doesn’t even know what he’s charging us with?” Richard asked the bailiff in desperation.
“Calling the judge a bozo,” Dee mused aloud, “Isn’t that contempt of court?”
“Sure is,” the judge replied, “That’s two nights in the slammer right there.” With a bang of his gavel Judge Brown made it official. “Now get them out of here,” he ordered to the bailiffs.
“Given the current turn of events,” the Public Defender piped up, “May I assume that the theft charges are dropped and my client is free to go?”
“Theft charges are dropped,” was the judge’s answer, “But there’s still the matter of the near riot he caused at the Powwow.”
“Actually, that’s why I was here, Your Honor,” Dee stepped in, “Chip and I both witnessed the incident and can attest that there was no personal injury and that the damage was actually fairly minor compared to what my brother occasionally causes at the ‘Hole in the Wall’, so I was hoping you might be willing to let him off with some community service.”
Judge Brown looked at her for a moment. “Considering the sales pitch you just gave me,” he responded, “I imagine you already have something in mind.”
“Yes sir,” Dee replied, “After his capture there was a very unusual incident that the Rescue Rangers have decided to investigate and since I’ve been considering establishing a local Ranger team here in town I was thinking we could let Drywall there assist in the investigation. That way he could give back to the community, after a fashion, and could be evaluated for possible inclusion in my team, undoubtedly providing further opportunities to help the community.”
As Dee finished speaking, Chip noticed someone or something removing his fedora. Turning quickly, he found Drywall standing behind him investigating the interior of his hat. “Gimme that!” Chip shouted.
Dee and Judge Brown turned to see what had gotten Chip riled up. “How did you get out?” Dee asked the loose weasel.
“Oh, sorry,” Drywall apologized. He promptly bounded back towards the cage and managed to quickly inter himself there, seemingly without any difficulty or having to use the door.
“How in blazes did you do that?!” Judge Brown shouted at the weasel.
“Do what?” Drywall replied in honest ignorance.
Thinking for a moment, the judge turned to Dee. “I think I just discovered how I can repay you for that incident with my bench,” he stated, “I am formally remanding custody of Drywall Weasel to the Clan Mother Doohickey Hawkfeather for the purpose of performing community service for a duration of time to be determined by Ms Hawkfeather.” With a bang of his gavel Judge Brown’s latest ruling took effect. “Bailiff, release that furry oddity.”
“I guess you can come with us,” Dee told the freed weasel.
As the three small mammals made their way out of the old city hall, Chip had to satisfy his curiosity... there was something he just had to know. “Now that you’re free,” he proceeded to ask Drywall, “Do you suppose you could explain how you got out of that cage back in the courtroom?”
“The bailiff let me out,” the weasel answered simply while looking about nervously.
“No-no,” Chip corrected, “Before that, when you were messing around with my hat.”
“I don’t know,” Drywall replied, “It’s something that happens from time to time.”
“You periodically osmose through cages?” Dee asked.
“I just really wanted to know what was under his hat,” Drywall pointed out, “and the only way I could find out was to get out of the cage. I don’t even know how I do things like that, it just happens.”
“Do you remember doing it?” Dee asked, stopping and looking at her new ‘friend’. Drywall shook his head rapidly. “Then how did you get back into the cage?” Dee inquired further. Drywall merely shrugged, periodically wringing his paws as he had in the courtroom. Dee stared at him, thinking, until something bothered her. “Do you ever blink?” she asked.
“No,” Drywall answered.
“Why not?”
“Might miss something.”
“You are obsessed with curiosity,” Chip concluded, “Right?”
“Uh-huh,” Drywall answered, rapidly nodding his head.
“You have to know what’s inside something,” Chip further posited, “You must find out what’s hidden from your view.” Drywall once more nodded rapidly. “Maybe he enters some kind of altered mental state and in his semi-panic he finds some solution to his problem but would be utterly oblivious to it later,” he speculated openly to his fiancé, “like forgetting a dream.” Turning back to Drywall, he asked a less relevant question. “Are you ever disappointed by what you find, even if there’s nothing inside?”
“Never!” the weasel replied with conviction.
“He’s not obsessed with curiosity,” Dee concluded, “He’s obsessed with discovery.”
“You’re right,” Chip stated to his fiancé, “He could be very useful.”
“We’re not going to get into a fight over who gets to keep him, are we?” Dee asked.
“You heard the judge’s ruling,” Chip replied, “He’s yours.”
“Goodie!” squeaked Dee happily. Turning to Drywall before continuing on the way out she explained, “Just stay out of my drawers.”
“Oh, I never peek in ladies’ clothing,” Drywall commented, “The thrill of discovery never justified the beatings I inevitably got.”
“Those weren’t the drawers I was talking about,” Dee replied, “But it’s nice to know, anyhow.”
Walking out into the narrow strip of ground between the building and the iron and concrete caisson that kept out the river in times of minor flooding, Drywall spotted the Ranger Wing. In moments, he became a blur of motion as he examined every inch, nook and cranny of the aircraft. When finished, he seated himself in the rear and fastened the seat belt. Shortly after Chip and Dee also boarded the aircraft, Chip felt his hat lift once more.
Looking back, Chip once more saw Drywall examining the interior of his hat. “Stop that!” he shouted, retrieving his fedora.
“Why did you have to look in his hat a second time?” Dee asked.
“He might have put something in there since I checked last,” Drywall answered.
==
Gadget was finishing up tabulations of what food was eaten by whom when Foxglove announced that she heard the Ranger Wing approaching. Everyone gathered about to welcome Dee and Chip’s return, and were surprised by the presence of a third passenger.
“Everyone, this is Drywall,” Chip pointed out, “Drywall, this is everyone.” The weasel waved quickly.
“The theft charges were fraudulent and I got the judge to agree to let him pay off the damage he did here through community service,” Dee explained, “Specifically, helping us with the case.”
“Heh, for a second there I thought you were going to ask me for a encore of my weasel wrangling routine,” Monterrey laughed.
“I got the results of our survey completed,” Gadget spoke up, “It seems the only food in common among those who experienced that strange belching phenomenon was corn soup.”
“I imagine that’s not a common side effect of eating the soup,” Chip presumed, turning to Dee.
“Our people have been eating the stuff for centuries,” Dee pointed out, “and this is the first time something like this has ever come up.”
“Maybe there was some rat poison left over after the corn was rinsed off,” Dale supposed.
“Any residual lye would more likely have resulted in death,” Gadget responded, “not belching.”
“Yeah, but everyone sure croaked!” Dale joked.
“We should bring some of the soup back to the mill,” Dee suggested, “I’ve got equipment there that can be used to analyze it’s components.”
“Did you get some soup with the other samples?” Chip inquired of Gadget.
“Sure did,” the lady replied, “The doggie bags are all loaded onto the Ranger Plane.”
“Excellent!” Chip declared, “The way things are going we could have this case wrapped up before nightfall!”
