by Judy Pierce
But Daphne remained focused on paddling between two huge rocks.
“Paddle left, Oliver! Hard!” Daphne shouted, as they came to a rapid.
Confused, Oliver paddled to the right.
“Left! Not right!” Ozette yelled at the panicking elf.
They hit a large rock broadside, spun around three times and were catapulted into the icy creek. Squirrels are naturally good swimmers, and they headed for shore.
“Help!”
Ozette turned and saw Oliver flailing in the creek. “Swim toward me, Oliver!” she shouted.
“I can’t swim!” he yelled, as his head disappeared under water.
“I thought all elves were required to take swimming lessons!” Daphne yelled, as she watched Oliver surface.
“He must have skipped that day, Daphne,” Ozette said dryly, turning to swim back to Oliver.
The elf grabbed Ozette, threatening to pull them both under.
“Stop fighting me, Oliver,” Ozette said. “Grab my tail and I’ll tow you to shore.”
But the frightened elf kept struggling, and Ozette feared they would both drown. “Give me a paw here, Daphne!” Ozette shouted for back-up.
Daphne headed to the struggling pair, but she, too, was growing tired from fighting the current. Both Ozette and Oliver slipped from the surface.
Daphne heard a “thwomp ... thwomp” and looked up to see a bald eagle, heading for the seemingly doomed pair. The eagle was late heading home to relieve his spouse. It was his turn to watch their chicks while she fed, and he knew he was already in for a tongue lashing. But he had scruples and wasn’t about to ignore the plight of the animals in the water. Besides, he recognized Ozette. The eagle was hoping to snag an invitation to the coronation party and knew it would be bad form not to help the guest of honor.
He swooped low over the water, as Oliver and Ozette surfaced again. “Grab my wings and hold on!” he ordered. Ozette and Oliver each grabbed a wing and soon were airborne.
The eagle carried them to shore on his strong wings and set them down in a grassy clearing. Daphne came running, tripping over tree roots, to reach her friends. The eagle shrugged away their words of gratitude and headed skyward, muttering, “Crazy kids to think they could raft in that raging creek.”
The sun was beginning to set, and the three drenched friends headed toward home. Oliver was shivering and had lost his backpack in the swollen creek. No matter, since the remaining goodies would have been soaked.
Ozette and Daphne helped the elf climb through and over the tree branches until they reached his little stone cottage nestled under a towering hickory tree. Like all elf and fairy houses, Oliver’s home was a whimsical hodgepodge of turrets, cupolas, bay windows and porches. Window boxes were filled to overflowing with moss and a profusion of colorful flowers. On the door hung a wreath of bird feathers, gifted to Oliver by his many winged friends. Ozette was always charmed by his home.
“Come in, and I’ll fix some tea and dinner for us,” Oliver said, opening the door. Soaked, hungry and cold, the two squirrels took him up on his offer.
Oliver gathered kindling and logs and started a fire in his river-stone fireplace. The friends dried and warmed themselves at the hearth. Oliver might not be a good swimmer, but he was a great cook and soon had set plates of spinach quichette and roasted vegetable razzle-dazzles in front of them as a pot of strong elderberry tea brewed over the fire. Soon the friends were dry, warm and satisfied.
Ozette dozed in front of the fire until Daphne poked her with a paw.
“Time to head back to our nests,” Daphne sighed, getting up. They hugged Oliver good night and headed out into the crisp, clear night to their homes.
Early the next morning, Ozette started down her tree, periodically stretching, yawning and pausing to enjoy the streaks of pink, gold and crimson splashed across the sky.
Suddenly she heard “gallump, gallump,gallump” and looked up to see Cassady bounding through the woods, ears flapping, tongue lolling out of her mouth. The large golden dog stopped, gave Ozette a wet lick and then proceeded to root around in the vine basket to see if any carrots remained from the gift Sydney had left days before.
Princess Abrianna was charging through the woods, calling for her dog. Her hair was flowing down her back, blowing in the breeze as she ran. She giggled as she grabbed Cassady by the scruff of her neck and wiped Ozette’s wet face with the hem of her silky crimson skirt.
“Sorry about that, Ozette,” she apologized. “She got away from me. But I’ll make it up to you. The bees have offered me honey from their hives. We’ll bake honeyhunkettes for the Spring Fling,” she said with a wink.
Ozette smiled. Honeyhunkettes would be perfect! She watched her friend walk briskly down the path and thought how lucky she was to live in such a delightful forest.
Ozette spent the morning cleaning her nest. Queen or not, she sure did get messy. Soon bits of walnut shells, old acorns, fruit and vegetable tidbits and scraps of withered leaves were raining onto the ground from above. As a bonus, she found some still edible dried apples, a piece of yellow cloth and two cardinal feathers she had forgotten she’d stashed in the back of her nest.
She scrambled through the treetops, using her sharp teeth to cut a leaf here, a leaf there, for her nest. What a wonderful variety of leaves the forest provided! She tucked them neatly into her home, and then ambled down her tree to collect fresh moss for carpeting, taking only small amounts from each patch so the plants weren’t harmed. She made numerous trips back and forth, carrying the moss in her mouth. After she had smoothed the moss neatly on the floor of her nest, she admired her tidy home. Feeling pleased, she tucked herself under her pile of fresh leaves and fell into a deep sleep.
She was dreaming about riding Maxwell through the forest when she heard whispers at the bottom of her tree.
“She’s been so busy with the Spring Fling plans, she’ll be mad if we wake her.”
“Not Ozette. She’ll be mad if she misses out,” said another familiar voice.
Ozette’s ears pricked up, and she stuck her head out of her nest. Five of her squirrel friends were gathered at the base of the tree – Daphne, Chloe and Zoe, Guido and Baby Fiona, who was still a tiny youngster.
“We’re going adventuring and want you to join us,” called Baby Fiona.
Adventuring was a term the squirrels used when they took to the treetops, never touching the ground. These aerial highways were beloved by all tree-dwelling creatures, but especially the squirrels.
Ozette clapped her paws. “Sounds wonderful. Shall we pack a picnic?” she asked.
“There should be plenty of food along the way, but we might want to pack a few snacks,” Guido answered.
“But what can we carry it in?” asked the ever-practical Chloe.
“Hmm.” Ozette thought a minute and grabbed the piece of bright yellow cloth she had found when cleaning her nest. “We can put food in the cloth, fold it up and attach it to one of us. Sort of a squirrelly backpack,” Ozette said, remembering the backpack Oliver had lost in the creek.
“I want to wear it. I’ve never had a backpack,” squealed Baby Fiona.
Ozette fashioned the cloth into a makeshift backpack, filled it with nuts and seeds and tied it around Baby Fiona’s chest. Off they scrambled through the trees, stopping to munch on buds and early fruits and having a wonderful outing.
Ariel joined them, chattering non-stop about the coronation, as she darted from tree to tree with them. Below, they could see other fairies, flitting on their iridescent wings. They waved to the squirrels and wished them well.
Suddenly, disaster struck.
The ties on Baby Fiona’s backpack caught on the end of a branch. The harder she tugged, the tighter the knot became. She started to cry.
Ozette put on her thinking cap and soon came up with a plan. She plucked one of last fall’s remaining hickory nuts from the tree and started sharpening her teeth, paying special attention to her incisors.
“I�
��ll cut the ties with my trusty teeth,” she said. “Guido, you’re the strongest. Get on the branch below and catch Baby Fiona.”
Ozette easily gnawed through the strings. Unfortunately, she had never taken physics and knew nothing about wind speed or trajectory.
As the ties came loose, the hapless young squirrel tumbled past Guido and down to the pond below, nuts and seeds raining down alongside her. Fortunately, Baby Fiona was still clutching the fabric, which billowed like a parachute, slowing her down long enough for Ozette to sound a piercing “HELP!” to anyone below.
As Baby Fiona almost reached the water, Mateo, one of the fastest and most athletic elves in the woodlands, had been sunning himself on the grassy banks of the pond. He rocketed down the banks as fast as his elfin legs could carry him and dove cleanly into the water. Baby Fiona landed in the pond with a splash and disappeared beneath the surface, her bright yellow parachute floating listlessly on top. Silence fell over the pond.
It seemed like an eternity passed until Mateo finally burst through the surface holding a sputtering, bedraggled, very thankful baby squirrel.
One of the eldest and most nurturing fairies in the forest, Sydney, had been fluttering nearby, gathering honeysuckle for tea. She rushed to dry the shivering pair with her filmy wings. While all the friends hugged Baby Fiona and congratulated brave Mateo, Ozette stood alone to the side, her head hanging dejectedly as she replayed the last few minutes in her mind and realized how close they had come to a tragedy. She slowly turned to leave and started down the path toward home alone.
Also on the same path, but coming from the opposite direction, Oliver was out for a stroll, having just completed his first swimming lesson. He was quite pleased with himself. His teacher had told him that he did very well and, at his next lesson, he might even be ready to stick his other foot into the water too. As he rounded the bend, he almost ran straight into Ozette.
“Ozette! Why are you crying?” Oliver asked, taking his friend’s paw in his elfin hands.
Between sobs, Ozette explained the disaster with Baby Fiona.
“I don’t deserve to be queen,” she said, pushing the thought of the small sprout and her grandmother’s words from her mind. “I want to cancel the Spring Fling and forget this whole crazy idea.”
“Sweet Ozette,” Oliver said, patting her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. Squirrels are great acrobats in the trees, but sometimes they take a tumble. But they get right back up and start all over again.”
Ozette shook her head silently, her fuzzy chin trembling and her dark eyes pooling up with tears.
Just then, they heard a chattering in the trees. They looked up and saw Baby Fiona, Guido, Daphne, Zoe and Chloe scrambling down a cherry tree. Baby Fiona was in the lead, chattering in a high squeaky voice and bursting with excitement.
“Ozette! That was the most fun I’ve had since that wind storm when my nest flew from tree to tree with me still in it!”
“Fun?! Fun?! I was so afraid that my carelessness had scared, or even worse, hurt you,” Ozette said, her eyes widening in surprise.
Baby Fiona hugged Ozette. “This was so exciting that I want to do it again. All I need is some fashion, um, I mean safety, accessories like a little helmet and parachute. Skydiving, here I come!”
Ozette wasn’t sure she could envision a squirrel sailing through the skies with a parachute, but sometimes she knew enough to keep her opinions to herself.
Several days passed, and heavy rains kept Ozette from completing her usual outdoor tasks. But she didn’t mind since she knew the rain nourished the thirsty earth. She smiled when she thought of her little golden acorn sprout drinking in the fat raindrops to help it grow. When she did venture forth in the wet weather, she curled her fluffy tail over her head like an umbrella and took pleasure in letting raindrops splash on her bright pink tongue.
But, as it always did, sunshine eventually returned and green growth abounded through the forest.
Ozette was enjoying the warm sunshine and had just finished harvesting some early greens and mushrooms from the forest when a shiny iridescent blur came hurtling through the sky and landed at her feet. Stunned, Ozette stared down at the small mound of silver gauzy material, when suddenly out popped Baby Fiona’s grinning face.
“Like it?” she asked, jumping up and turning in circles.
“Amazing,” Ozette said smiling, “Wherever did you get such a beautiful contraption?”
“I talked some spiders into spinning the fabric,” said Baby Fiona proudly. “Had to collect lots of bugs for them in exchange though,” she shuddered. “And then Sydney sewed it into a parachute with wings, kind of like the fairies have, only custom made for me. All that’s left on my list is a helmet. Any ideas?”
Ozette tapped her paw to her lips and thought. And thought. And thought.
Suddenly, she held up a paw. “Perhaps we could fasten some empty walnut shells together with something sticky. That might work.”
She climbed to her nest and rummaged through her stash of nuts. She found two large walnuts, threw them down to Baby Fiona and raced back down the tree. She and Baby Fiona carefully cracked the nuts, making sure to keep each half intact.
“There’s some sticky sap on that tree over there,” Ozette said, pointing to a pine. “Let’s stick the shells together with that and shape it to fit your head.”
The squirrels worked carefully, until they had fashioned a helmet of walnut shells.
Baby Fiona beamed and took off her parachute. “Thanks, Ozette. I want you to be the first to try it, since you inspired me to achieve this dream. If it weren’t for you, I never would have had this opportunity,” Baby Fiona said.
Ozette grimaced. She wasn’t sure about this skydiving.
When she saw Ozette hesitate, a mischievous twinkle came into Baby Fiona’s eyes. “I would think a queen would want to be adventurous,” she said, playing on Ozette’s pride. “Think of the stories you can tell at your coronation.”
Ozette knew she would never live it down if she didn’t try, so she put on the parachute and the walnut helmet and started to climb up a small tree.
“No! That tree over there,” Baby Fiona said, pointing to a tall red oak.
With some misgivings, Ozette reluctantly climbed up the tree. When she reached the top, she looked down. Being a squirrel, she wasn’t afraid of heights, but she was going to have to let go of the top limb and trust that the parachute would open. Her honor was at stake. If young Baby Fiona could do it, so could she.
She made sure the helmet and parachute were fastened properly, took a deep breath, thrust out her chin and jumped. As she slowly drifted downward, she noticed the silence. Still and calm, it was a friendly silence, as though the forest was watching her fly.
She drifted lazily past a black crow that cawed, “Welcome to the club. Now you know how it feels!”
A surprised sloth stopped his munching and slowly gazed upward.
She drifted past a dozing raccoon couple, a dragon meticulously grooming herself and a nest of baby birds who watched her with beaks agape.
Suddenly, she felt something solid. She had landed on the top of a sapling, her parachute folding around her like a cloak.
“That was such fun! Now I know why you wanted to skydive!” she chattered excitedly as Baby Fiona ran up the tree.
“You looked majestic,” said Baby Fiona. “Want to try it again?”
Checking the position of the sun, Ozette shook her head. “Another time. Oliver has invited me for lunch and has promised pecan yummettes for dessert.” She took off the helmet and parachute and handed them to Baby Fiona. The young squirrel donned them in a flash and scrambled to the top of a tall hickory.
Ozette watched Baby Fiona’s parachute catch the wind and slowly float down. She smiled as she thought of the good that had eventually come from such a scary day. “Hmm,” she grinned. “I just might take up skydiving too someday.”
When she reached Oliver’s cottage, he w
as setting the table with his finest china. Ozette’s pink nose wiggled as she sniffed the delectable scents. “Something smells awfully good,” she said.
Oliver smiled his broadest smile. “Pecan-stuffed mushrooms, first-greens-of-spring salad, lemonette linguine, pecan yummettes and mint tea,” he proclaimed proudly.
Ozette licked her lips in anticipation.
The two friends chatted happily as they ate the beautifully prepared lunch. Ozette told Oliver about her skydiving experience and how magical she felt. Oliver smiled slyly, hoping her sense of adventure would prevail when he offered her a truly magical experience.
“After lunch, I want to show you something,” he said, taking her paw and squeezing it. They finished their meal in a companionable silence. Then Oliver left the room and returned with three vials of pale green liquid in his hands. The small, square vials were fashioned from crystal with oval-shaped stoppers carved from oak. Ozette looked at him, puzzled.
“Ozette, you know that I’m the fourth cousin, twice removed, from Shape-Shifter Elf,” he said solemnly.
Ozette nodded, vaguely remembering Oliver telling her that he came from a family with special talents. Although she had never met Shape-Shifter Elf, he was said to be quite eccentric and loved to dabble in white magic.
“He’s been teaching me to do magical things.”
Ozette frowned. She knew that Oliver could be impulsive and wondered where this conversation was leading.
“It’s quite wonderful. There are formulas for making potions that let you change your shape and become something else.”
Seeing Ozette’s look of alarm, he hastily said, “It’s only for four hours. Then you return to your original self.”
“Oliver, you shouldn’t be tampering with such things. What if you get stuck as something else and can’t get back?”
“That won’t happen,” he said confidently, puffing out his chest. “I followed the formulas perfectly.”
Ozette shook her head skeptically as Oliver showed her the vials.