by Bob Brooks
“The ends do not justify the means. By that I mean, we must respect everybody’s rights. We cannot violate those rights in order to achieve our ends. I hope you both appreciate the importance of that. You have done a great job for Ballymore, and nothing has changed. Please continue in your roles as leaders of this mission. We all need you.”
Wilde said quietly, “You’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you, Bartholomew.”
“See you in the morning,” said Bartholomew. He rose and went to the tent.
The next morning, the weasels got up early again and made breakfast for everyone. After breakfast Wilde asked Branna to return to the entrance of the tunnels and wait for a mouse to come along. The rest of them would go with her but hide nearby in the woods. It only took about twenty minutes for the group to reach the hillside and get in position.
This time, Branna didn’t have long to wait. Shortly, a young mouse crept out of the tunnel. Branna was perched on a nearby rock, preening her feathers.
She said, “Hello, I’m Branna Bluebird.”
The mouse responded, “Hi, I’m Clarence Mouse.”
“Could I talk with you a little while?” she asked. “I need some help.”
“Yes,” responded Clarence. “Are you new here?”
“Yes, I’m visiting. But, sadly, my visit isn’t going well, and it’s my fault. I’m from Ballymore, to the east. Do you know of it?”
“Yes, my father has mentioned Ballymore, but I’ve never been there. He said it’s a nice place,” answered the mouse. “What has gone wrong with your visit?”
“A few months ago we found a ninety-year-old letter that was addressed to us from the residents of Ballymore of 1801.”
“Wow!” said Clarence. “You can read! What did the letter say?”
“No, our councillor, Bartholomew, read it to us. It told us about a gift that they had left for us to find, but we had to solve a puzzle in order to find the gift. The clues are hidden in many different places. First we went to a cave in The Hills. Then, we went to a bell tower in Waterford hamlet. We are now on our third mission to find the next clues.”
“It sounds very exciting,” said Clarence.
“Yes, it is. Unfortunately, on this mission we’ve made a very bad mistake. We are trying to find the clues that used to be in a box at the bottom of your well. Two days ago, one of us, Finn Frog went down into your well. We truly believed that it was still abandoned. It had been abandoned for so long. We had no idea that your family was living there. I am very sorry. We are very sorry. Some of your family discovered Finn and thought he was trying to steal something from your home.”
“Yes, I saw him. He was a large frog,” said Clarence. “We chased him out of the well, and there was a fight. My family is very upset about it.”
“We never would have entered your home if we had known you were living there. We never behave like that in Ballymore. It was a terrible misunderstanding. Is there any way we could talk to the head of your family and apologize?”
Clarence said, “My father is the head of the family.” After thinking a while, he said, “I’ll go and tell him about you, but I don’t know what he’ll say.”
“Thank you. That’s all I can ask,” said Branna.
The mouse disappeared into the tunnel, and a long time passed. Finally, he reappeared, but he wasn’t alone. His father and whole family had come with him.
“Branna, this is my father, Gerald Mouse,” he said. “Father, this is Branna Bluebird from Ballymore.”
Branna said, “It’s very nice to meet you, sir. I am very sorry. We are very sorry to have entered your home uninvited two days ago.”
Gerald said, “Hello Branna. Clarence has told us your story. This well was abandoned until a few years ago when we moved in. I am sure that you thought the well was still abandoned. We found the box you seek and are using the wood pieces as furniture. I think I was too hasty to judge your Finn Frog. Mistakes were made by everybody.”
When Gerald said those words, Branna felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Gerald then introduced his family to Branna. There were seven mice.
“It is very nice to meet all of you,” she said. “Would you like to meet the rest of my group? There are only four others, and they are nearby in the woods.”
Gerald said, “Yes, that will be fine.”
Branna called to the others to join them. Led by Bartholomew, they walked from behind some bushes and approached. Finn was last. Gerald recognized Finn and also recognized Wilder who had hit him in the head with the nut. Finn and Wilder stood with their heads down.
Bartholomew walked up to Gerald and said, “I am Bartholomew Owl from Ballymore. Thank you for agreeing to talk to us. We are very sorry to have caused you trouble. I can assure you it was completely unintentional.”
He extended his wing in friendship. Gerald responded and shook it.
Gerald said, “Yes, I believe you. Welcome to our home. This time you are invited.”
Bartholomew then introduced the others.
“Finn, I’m sorry,” said Gerald. “I was too quick to judge when we found you. Wilder, you’re a pretty good shot.”
Wilder smiled weakly and said, “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”
Gerald laughed and continued, “Branna told us your story, and perhaps we can help.”
Wilde spoke, “The wooden pieces, which were in the box, have an important message written on them. There is also an important note. All we need is the information from them.”
Gerald said, “We have the note, and we are using the wood pieces for furniture.”
Bartholomew said, “If it is acceptable to you, we could replace the wood pieces with anything you would like. We have an excellent furniture maker in Ballymore.”
“I’ll talk with my family about your offer. Thank you. What information is on the wood pieces?”
“They contain part of a coded message, and the note gives the location of the next puzzle pieces.”
“If you would wait here a few minutes, we will bring the pieces out for you to examine,” offered Gerald.
“Thank you so much. We appreciate that,” responded Bartholomew.
The mice disappeared into the tunnel. In a few minutes they came back with the puzzle pieces and placed them on the ground in front of Bartholomew. He moved them around until they were properly connected. Everyone watched with fascination. He then took a pen and paper from his backpack and copied the code.
MJKKJP QUV DKJP
Their mission was almost accomplished. Gerald stepped forward and gave Bartholomew the old letter. The owl thanked him and removed the note from the previously opened envelope.
The old hut on the southwest shore, Lower level, Southwest corner, Under the floor: a box.
Cyrus Owl,
Midsummer’s Eve, 1801
Bartholomew smiled as he read the note. He knew it was Grenby Groundhog’s hut to which the note was referring. Grenby would not appreciate the coming intrusion.
They now had the information for which they had come. The mission was accomplished.
Gerald said, “You may keep the pieces of wood if you could replace them with something similar.”
Bartholomew answered, “That is very generous of you. Thank you. We will make the new pieces as close to these as possible. It should take no more than a week. Stoddard Swan and Branna will probably deliver them.
“We hope that you will visit Ballymore someday. You are more than welcome.”
Gerald responded, “We would like to do that. Perhaps we’ll come in the spring when the weather improves.”
“That would be wonderful. We look forward to it,” said Bartholomew. “Now, we need to be getting back to our camp, so we thank you again and hope to see you in the spring.”
The animals said goodbye to each other. Our successful and happy team walked back to the camp. They would spend one more night there before returning to Ballymore with the new puzzle pieces. It took Morris Muskrat a few days t
o duplicate the wood pieces, and they were delivered to the mice as promised.
There is an old saying: You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. That was the key to success on this mission.
One week later, after returning from lunch with Dr. Brigit, Bartholomew found Oliver sitting at his dining table. He didn’t know whether he should be surprised, delighted, or amused. He was all three.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” he said.
“Hello, uncle Bart. I came to tell you that we are ready to have our belongings moved.”
“Very good. The swans are on another procurement trip and won’t be back until later in the afternoon. How about some soup, and then we can relax for a while.”
“Thank you. I would like that,” responded Oliver.
Bartholomew made some soup, and they enjoyed it by the fire. Afterwards, they each settled down with a good book. Bartholomew felt very comfortable having Oliver with him. He smiled as he noticed his nephew had chosen a book on the weather. Perhaps he might become his apprentice someday, he thought. Time will tell. No need to rush.
Later in the day, they visited the swans and arranged a delivery schedule. Over the next week, almost everything was picked up and moved to Ballymore. Jonathan’s books came to Bartholomew’s. Some furniture and personal belongings went to the ducks’ shed.
The many wood and metal pieces of “Pride and Joy” went to a room in the swans’ cottage. Stoddard and Sean tried to figure out what they were and how they went together. They had no luck and got no hints. Much of what was moved to Ballymore, including “Pride and Joy”, would go in the new school room/library.
Jonathan and Oliver would stay in Caldwell until their new treehouse was built. They kept enough furniture and belongings to be comfortable.
Since it took only an hour to fly to Ballymore, they visited frequently and began to establish relationships that would eventually grow into friendships. Over the next month, Jonathan met with Burton Beaver several times and provided suggestions regarding the construction. His plans and dreams were slowly coming to life.
CHAPTER TEN
December Holidays
December arrived by storm. Bartholomew watched through his front window as wind and sleet enveloped Ballymore. The sleet pelted the window in tune with the wind blasts. Although most animals don’t, he enjoyed storms. He enjoyed being witness to the power of nature, the power of God. They also tended to put him in a philosophical mood.
‘From where do these winds blow? They come from eons past to remind us of our eternal life. They announce their presence by rustling the browned leaves of the birch trees. They rise and fall through the evergreens. They ruffle the fur and feathers of all creatures. The chilled sensation cannot be denied, and the natural course is to seek shelter, but remember that we are all one with the wind and its brethren.’
He smiled as he recalled a passage from a favorite book. Bartholomew took the well-worn book from the library shelf and sat down in his rocker next to the hearth.
Most of the other residents of Ballymore also huddled by warm hearths, each in their own homes. They were warmed not only by the heat from the flames but also by the shared experience of being with their loved ones and friends.
But not every creature was so fortunate. On the north side of the pond, not far from Petunia Porcupine’s cottage, a kitten shivered in the reeds. The unrelenting sleet fell on his already wet fur. The kitten cried for his mother, but she was nowhere to be seen. He was cold, hungry, and scared. He looked out through the storm for help. To his left, he saw only the whitecaps on the dark water. To his right, the land was empty of light and life. All he could do was mew weakly.
Dr. Brigit didn’t have the luxury of a warm hearth that late autumn night either. She had visited the moles to treat some flu-like symptoms, which had spread through the whole family. As she walked home along the pond, she was also shivering. She pulled her hood tighter to fend off the weather. What a night not to be out, she thought. She was looking forward to a hot bath and good book. The wind whistled through the trees. It was only during a brief lull that she thought she heard a cry. She stopped and listened.
Meow! Meow!
Oh my! It’s a kitten somewhere, she thought.
Meow! Meow!
She followed the sound to the very edge of the pond and began searching through the reeds. The thick reeds were wet and icy as she pushed them this way and that. Finally, she found a small, well-hidden hollow. Looking down, she saw the half-open eyes of a pitiful creature looking up.
“Meow! Meow!”
“Oh, you poor little thing,” she cried.
She scooped up the little ball of wet fur and nestled it to her chest. She must get him to warmth, she thought. Luckily, it was only a short distance to her cottage, and she ran to it.
When she got inside, she placed the kitten on her dining table, dried him, and wrapped him in a towel. He lay there quietly, looking at her.
“What you need, my little dear, is some special milk formula.”
She took a bottle of milk from cold storage and poured some into a pan. Then, she added a spoonful of a cream-colored powder and set the pan on the stove to warm. The kitten watched expectantly. Meanwhile, she took an eye dropper from a drawer and made sure it was clean. In a couple of minutes, the formula was ready, and she filled the eye dropper with the warm milk. The kitten knew he was about to be fed and mewed.
“Now, this is similar to the way your mother feeds you. You suck on this end, and I’ll squeeze on this end.”
She put the tip of the dropper in his mouth. He was a natural, and soon it was empty. Before she knew it, he had sucked down five dropper-fills. That’s not counting what dribbled down his chin.
“Wonderful!” she exclaimed.
He looked up, and a tiny purr came from him.
“Well, now you’re looking better and feeling better too, I think.”
Brigit finished drying him with the towel. He was an attractive orange tabby with medium length fur, big ears, and intelligent hazel eyes.
“You have puffed out quite well,” said Brigit.
“Hmmm. That’s a good name for you. Puff! Puff Cat! What do you think?”
Puff Cat purred.
“Then, we both agree! Good! I think this storm is going to last all night. I’m so glad I found you. No one should be out in this weather. I think I’m going to take a nice hot bath and go to bed early. You should sleep also and regain your strength.
“I wonder where your mother is?”
She found a small basket and arranged a soft blanket. She placed Puff in it and set the kitten-filled basket next to the warm hearth. She leaned over and gave Puff a kiss. He immediately curled up and closed his eyes.
“Now, you sleep well. I’ll be close by in the bedroom.”
After a tiring day, it was time for her bath. The hot bath was so soothing. Afterwards, she took a last look at Puff. He was sleeping peacefully with one paw covering his eyes. As she watched over him, she wondered how he ever ended up in the reeds on such a terrible night. Hopefully, the answer would come soon.
She shut off the oil lamp and found the way to her own bed in the dark cottage. The sleet and wind continued as she fell asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, she was awakened by a noise. Apparently, a branch had fallen against a window. She noticed that she was no longer alone in the bed. Puff had left his basket and somehow crawled up onto the bed. He was stretched out next to her and sleeping soundly. The noise had no effect on him. She smiled and stroked his soft fur.
When she awoke in the morning, Puff was still there. This is where he belongs, she thought. Dr. Brigit already loved him. If we don’t find his mother, he will live with me, she decided.
“Okay, Puff. It’s time for breakfast,” she coaxed.
Puff rolled over on his back, stretched, and yawned. He looked up at her and purred. She tickled his tummy, and he purred louder.
“Oh, you like that, do you, Sweetie. Oka
y. Let’s go to the kitchen. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
This time he sucked down seven dropper-fills of the warm formula. As he finished the seventh one, there was a knock on the door. It was Bartholomew. He was just stopping by for a morning visit and some tea.
Immediately noticing Puff, he asked, “What have we here?”
“This is Puff. Puff, this is Bartholomew Owl. I like to think of him as the great Ballymore problem solver. He is a best friend of mine.”
Puff smiled and purred.
Brigit told Bartholomew of the events from the night before.