by Tor Seidler
“Good friend.”
“Then tell me this. Where is he? He’s holding up the whole works. Zeke sent Ben first, but Benny couldn’t find him—so I said I could. He’s supposed to be best weasel, you know.” A cloud passed over Bill’s face. “Though why Zeke picked him instead of me I’ll never figure.” Then the cloud cleared. “But here I find a frog instead. Funny how things work out sometimes, huh?”
Paddy nodded, realizing that all weasels weren’t equal in intelligence. This one had two eyes but seemed almost dim. “You know Bagley Brown?” he asked.
“Know him! It was just a couple of months ago I gave him a good licking.” Bill puffed his chest out, figuring a bullfrog would never know it had been the other way around.
“He needs help,” Paddy said.
“So what?”
Paddy sighed. This was basically the same response he’d gotten from the frogs when he’d swum around the pond.
“Let’s go,” Bill said, dragging the bullfrog away by the neck.
“You’re going to kill me?” Paddy croaked.
“Nah. I’ll give Zeke the honors. It’s his big day.”
Poor Paddy was dragged across dirt, over twigs, through dusty fallen leaves, then onto pine needles that pierced his delicate skin. But the needles themselves weren’t half as gruesome as the mob gathered on them. It was solid weasels, dozens of them, all with sharplooking teeth. As they completely surrounded him, he quivered from his green head to his webbed feet, too scared to speak.
“A little wedding present for you, Zeke,” Bill said proudly.
“Frog’s legs!” exclaimed the one he was talking to—the biggest of the bunch. “Yum!”
“Want to finish him off? Or should I?”
“He’s all yours, Billy boy,” Zeke said generously.
Billy bared his razor teeth. But before he could sink them into Paddy’s throat Zeke said, “Not now—or he won’t be fresh. We haven’t even had the ceremony yet. You couldn’t find Bagley?”
Bill shook his head. Then he laughed. “Funny thing. This frog says he knows him. Says Bagley needs our help.”
“What?” cried a new voice. A female weasel with shiny, closeset eyes and a pretty blue feather behind one ear broke through the crowd.
“Wendy girl!” Zeke exclaimed. “We’re not supposed to see each other.”
The female weasel’s snout turned pink. “Oh, dear, I forgot. I saw Bill dragging this frog, and I was so curious . . .”
“Well, it’s okay by me,” said Zeke, who was actually glad to see her.
“Did you say you know Bagley?” she asked the frog.
Paddy was still too frightened to make a sound. But he managed to nod his trembling head.
“Where is he?” Wendy asked.
Paddy wheezed down a couple of breaths. “He’s—he’s—he’s getting the nest down off the telephone pole.”
“What nest?” she asked gently. “What telephone pole?”
“Osprey nest. Pole near the pond.”
“And he needs help?”
Paddy nodded vigorously.
“You hear that, Zeke? Remember what you told him?”
“What’s that?”
“You said if he ever needed anything—anything . . .”
Zeke was staring at Paddy. “You mean that’s what you’re doing in the woods, Frog? You came from Bagley?”
Paddy nodded again. Zeke turned on his brother. “And you wanted to eat him?” he snapped, cuffing Bill across the ear. “Lord, you’re as dumb as a rabbit!”
Poor Bill. He wobbled dizzily away, the same as when Bagley cuffed him, and walked straight into the stump.
“Can you take us there, Frog?” Zeke asked.
“Well, I’m pretty dead—er, tired,” Paddy said, rubbing his sore neck. “Why don’t you go on ahead, and I’ll meet you. You know the road near the pond?”
Zeke shook his head. “Never been over that way.”
“I know it!” Wendy cried. “I know the way!”
“It’s the second telephone pole from the beach,” Paddy said. “I’ll go by the brook and meet you there in a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Frog,” Zeke said. “And sorry about the frog’s legs stuff. Didn’t know you were a pal of Bagley’s.”
Paddy smiled wanly and headed towards the brook, not at all sorry for a break from the weasels. As the frog hopped away, Zeke climbed up onto the stump to make an announcement.
“Listen up, everybody,” he said. “The wedding’s off for the moment. Bagley Brown needs our help.”
The magical name Bagley Brown rippled through the crowd. Even grand weasels like the Tantails and the Blackishes agreed that if Bagley Brown needed help, they would gladly give it.
“Let’s go!” everybody cried.
“You okay, Billy boy?” Zeke asked, jumping down off the stump.
“I guess so,” Bill muttered.
“Okay, then. Lead the way, Wendy girl!”
THE LEADER
Some brides might have been annoyed at having the groom climb up on a stump at the last minute and announce that the wedding was off. And truth be told, it wasn’t one of the things Wendy had been daydreaming about for the last couple of weeks. But she didn’t really mind. Since the night of the strawberry moon, Zeke had let her lead twice, out on the dance floor, yet both times had been a little disappointing—partly because he’d stepped on her paws, but mostly because he’d worn such a sour expression. But now she had her true chance.
It was marvelous, bounding through the woods with the entire community of weasels in her wake. Rabbits and squirrels fell over themselves to get out of their way, and a snake who was sunning himself in the clearing where Zeke had proposed to her slithered swiftly into his hole.
When they broke out of the woods, the sun was up ahead, sinking a bit in the west, blinding after the shade of the trees. Wendy didn’t so much as break stride. She didn’t bother checking the sky for hawks, either. She headed straight for the end of the hedge. Her eyes adjusted to the brightness just before she got across the open patch—just in time to see a fullgrown red fox step out from under the hedge.
She put on the brakes. All the weasels put on the brakes. The fox had his ears pricked, and he showed his teeth.
For a second Wendy felt faint. But then, strangely enough, she felt the opposite of faint—incredibly wide awake, wider awake than she’d ever been in her life. Instead of shrinking behind Zeke and the others, she did a wonderful thing. She showed her teeth back. Not only this, she let out a warning hiss. And after a couple of seconds all the weasels behind her took the cue and did the same thing.
It was a bewildering moment for the fox. He loved weasel. Weasel wasn’t easy to come by, for weasels were quick as the devil. And now a whole feast of them had delivered themselves up to him. It was like a dream.
And yet it was a case of too much of a good thing. The biggest of them wasn’t a quarter his size, but there were so many, all showing their pointy teeth. What’s more, the way they were hissing, he could tell that if he grabbed one, the others would nip him. It galled him to give up such a gourmet meal, but somehow it didn’t seem worth the risk of having his shiny red coat ripped by all those needlelike teeth. So he gave a shrug and trotted off towards the potato field to look for quail.
For a while none of the weasels twitched a muscle or said a word. But when the fox was a good distance away, Zeke jumped up to Wendy’s side.
“Way to go, Wendy girl!” he cried, clapping her on the back, almost as if she was one of his brothers.
In fact, his brothers had remained at the rear of the pack when they met the fox. But now Ben sauntered up to the front.
“Foxes,” he said scornfully. “You see the fleas on that guy?”
“Yeah,” said one of the twins, following Ben to the front. “He had a whole circus on him.”
“I’ll say,” the other twin chimed in. “They’re worse than rabbits. They must be about the mangiest critters in the whole—”
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“Come on!” Wendy said impatiently. “We’re wasting time!”
She dove ahead under the hedge, not even bothering to look over her shoulder to see if the others were following. They were. Zeke kept right on her heels, and all the rest streamed after the two of them. A chipmunk who’d just come out of a hole between some roots of the hedge took one look at the cavalry charge of weasels and dove back in headfirst. A black cat with green eyes caught sight of them from the back porch of a summer house but decided against giving chase. They were moving too fast, and it was just too hot.
At the end of the hedge, Wendy put on the brakes again—not because of another fox, but to check the lay of the land. There was the road Bagley had crossed so carefully the day he’d taken her to the hollow log. To the right, the road wound inland. To the left, it led towards the dunes and the beach. She counted to the secondtolast telephone pole.
“It looks just like all the others,” she said. “Except that platform on top.”
“Farmer McGee probably put that up there,” said Mr. Blackish, panting a little. “The platforms encourage ospreys to nest on them, and ospreys keep away chicken hawks.”
“I wonder what Bagley’s up to there,” Wendy said. “Think we ought to wait here for the bullfrog or go straight over?”
“It’s kind of open here,” Mr. Blackish said, scanning the sky. “There might be a hawk or—Wendy, look!”
Wendy looked where he pointed. A hawk was diving out of the sky, heading almost directly towards them. It was different from the hawks on the North Fork, though. It had a whiter breast and a wider wingspan.
“Over there!” Zeke cried, pointing. “A dead weasel.”
Now Wendy looked where Zeke’s paw was aimed. On the roadside, only a few yards away, a weasel was lying on its side. Unlike Zeke, she recognized the weasel immediately—for she’d once had a bit of a crush on him.
“It’s Bagley!” she cried.
Without pausing to consider if he was dead or not, she raced towards him. Zeke stayed right behind her, and behind him came Mr. Blackish and all the other weasels. Having just practiced on the fox, not one of them hesitated. As soon as they’d surrounded Bagley, they looked up and hissed at the diving bird, all of them baring their teeth.
The osprey was every bit as startled as the fox. But for him the decision was easier. He rarely tried for prey on the ground, anyway—he wasn’t made for it. He’d just been so angry and frustrated at finding his nest stolen that he’d wanted to take it out on someone, and he’d seen this silly weasel stagger and fall over on the roadside. But a skinny lump of fur and bones certainly wasn’t worth risking his gorgeous plumage to all those nastylooking teeth. A half second above the ground he swerved sharply towards the beach, glided down the road, then wheeled back over the shrunken pond.
As soon as the viciouslooking bird was gone, a car with two surfboards on top came thundering out of the beach parking lot, heading right for the weasels.
“Come on, let’s get him out of here, quick!” Wendy cried.
The Whitebelly brothers hoisted Bagley up and carried him into the shade of the hedge just as the surfers went by in a cloud of dust. Once the body was set down, several weasels cried out in alarm. Every one of them stared.
“Holy red hen!” Mr. Blackish said in a hushed voice. “It isn’t an affectation.”
For Bagley’s snakeskin patch was still flipped up, exposing his empty eye socket.
“Yikes,” Zeke said, clapping a paw over his own left eye.
“Ouch!” cried Bill, doing the same.
But Wendy just leaned over the body and gently put the patch back in place. Then she felt Bagley’s brow.
“Dead?” the twins asked.
“I’m not sure,” Wendy said. “But look at his lips. He’s dry as a bone.”
“I believe the brook is just over there,” said Mr. Blackish. “It doesn’t look as if there’s much hope, but we should at least try.”
The Whitebelly brothers lifted the limp weasel again and, with the others all crowded around, carried him along the side of the road. Soon the brook came into view, winding off to the right between a potato field and a pasture with chestnut horses grazing in it. The weasels set Bagley down on the edge of the brook, and Wendy scooped some clear, fresh spring water into his mouth. His mouth didn’t move, but she made sure the water went down his throat.
When Bagley coughed and spat, she cried:
“He’s alive!”
Bagley’s eye half opened. It was lusterless and blank. And though his lips moved slightly, no sound came out.
Wendy scooped up more water. “Drink,” she said, holding her paws to his mouth.
Bagley drank. He drank several pawfuls. Then his eyelid closed, and he passed out again.
“Let’s take him back to the woods,” Zeke suggested.
“Good idea,” Mr. Blackish said, his eyes shifting nervously from side to side. “It’s too open for comfort around here.”
“Where you going, Wendy?” Zeke said.
Not far from where they were gathered, the brook ran into a dim culvert under the road. Wendy had heard a “Psst” from inside it.
“I just need to get out of the sun a minute,” she said over her shoulder.
The culvert was a gigantic pipe of rippled metal. Once she was into the shade of it, she whispered, “Did somebody call me?”
“I did, miss,” said Paddy, who’d arrived there a minute before the weasels came over with Bagley.
Wendy’s eyes adjusted quickly to the shadowy place. “Why are you hiding in here, Frog?” she asked.
“Well . . .” The truth was, Paddy wasn’t anxious to socialize with all those weasels again. But this one had been kind to him. “Is Bagley okay?” he whispered.
“He was dry as a bone, but we hope maybe he’ll come around. We’re going to take him back to the woods.”
“Ah,” Paddy sighed.
“You don’t think we should?”
“No, no, go ahead. It’s just I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed.”
“Disappointed? Why?”
“Because his plan didn’t get carried through.”
“What plan?”
A car passed by overhead, making the whole culvert shiver.
“What plan?” Wendy repeated when things quieted down.
“Do you have a minute?” Paddy asked, looking out nervously at the other weasels. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“Sure,” Wendy said.
BY THE BROOK
Bagley opened his eye and saw he’d gone to heaven. It was a dreamy place. It smelled clean and fresh, not dry and dusty, and felt soft as a cloud. There were little white blossoms scattered around, and a necklace of diamonds hung in the air, shimmering in the celestial light.
“Bagley boy? You awake?”
Bagley turned his head slightly. The angel’s voice bore a strange resemblance to Zeke Whitebelly’s.
“You’re back! About time!”
Bagley lifted his head, blinking at the angel’s grinning face. “Oh, no,” he said, seeing it was Zeke. “How did you die, Zeke?”
“What are you talking about, die? There’s nobody dead around here—except some of those bugs over there.”
Bagley sat up. He was in a nest of leaves on the bank of the brook outside his den. The necklace of heavenly diamonds was the spiderweb. A shaft of slanting light was hitting the dewdrops on it, making them sparkle. But stuck in the strands were the dead bugs Zeke was talking about. It didn’t make sense that there could be dead bugs in heaven.
“Not dead,” Bagley mumbled, half to himself. “It’s morning. I’ve been—I’ve been asleep since . . . gosh, I really slept!”
“You can say that again!” Zeke said.
Memories jostled into Bagley’s groggy brain. He remembered the shrunken pond. He remembered gnawing the cork fishing rod on the beach, rolling the reel in the hot sand, scaling the telephone pole with the line tied to his tail, lowering the nest with the help of
the sparrows, pulling it under the wildrose bush with the help of the turtle, watching the osprey devour the poor eel. But what had happened after that? He’d been parched—that much he was sure of. He’d started off in search of the brook, and he’d keeled over. And then there’d been the whoosh of great wings descending on him.
He swallowed. How odd that he should be alive! And another odd thing: he wasn’t thirsty now. Looking away from Zeke, he saw a nutshell full of water by his leafy bed.
“How . . .” He swallowed again. “How’d I get here, Zeke?”
“We found you by the road. You were dry as a stick, old buddy. But you’re going to be Aone in no time.”
“Wasn’t . . . wasn’t a big bird coming down to get me?”
“I’ll say! Biggest old bird you ever saw! But he skedaddled when he got a load of us.”
“Us?”
“All of us. We were all there—every weasel in Wainscott. The wedding, you know.”
Bagley blinked a few times, trying to piece this together. “How did you know to come look for me?” he asked.
“Well, it was like this. You were supposed to be my best weasel, right? But you didn’t show, so I sent Ben out to look for you. When he comes up empty, Bill jumps up and says he’ll find you. You know what those guys are like. But he doesn’t find you either. He finds a frog instead. Right here, as a matter of fact.”
“Paddy?”
“Didn’t get his name. A bullfrog—nice, juicy one.”
Bagley gulped. “You didn’t—”
“Nah, don’t worry. We almost ate him. But then he said he was a pal of yours.”
“And he told you about the nest?”
“Well, that mostly came out later. When he was talking to Wendy, in that tunnel thing.”
“Wendy?”
“Yeah. That frog took a real shine to her.” Zeke laughed, giving Bagley a nudge. “Can’t blame him, can you?”
Bagley nodded, smiling. “I guess I should congratulate you on your marriage.”
“Not yet, Bagley boy. We aren’t hitched yet.”