The Woodlander

by Kirk Watson

  As they traveled farther down the river, sounds of life began to spring up around them. Birds chirped in the trees and fish leapt from the water. With each passing day, John felt more confident of their escape, though he always kept a vigilant eye on the sky for the sinister haakönen, Geirleif.

  At night, they stopped to make camp. Around the fire, Lisa retold the tale of their harrowing journey while Violet acted out the parts, leaving the party in fits of laughter. All except for Ray; the brooding squirrel always sat alone, keeping watch and listening to the gaiety from a short distance while sharpening his knife.

  On the third day, they spotted the familiar shores of Langley. John and Ray guided the barge to the riverbank just before reaching town.

  “Better leave the rifles behind,” Ray said, regarding the ragged group of survivors in their matching grey jumpsuits. “We don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves than necessary. You already look conspicuous enough in those getups.”

  “Yes,” John said, stowing his rifle away, “let’s all try to blend in like Ray. Nothing to see here, folks—just your average circus freak on an afternoon stroll.”

  He ignored Ray’s growling and tucked his pistol away in his jumpsuit. They hopped off the barge and onto the shores of Langley, then looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

  “What happens now?” Hugh asked. “Should we go to the police?”

  “No,” John said. “Even if they did believe us, we’d have a difficult time explaining Ray’s involvement in all this. I’m not sure the authorities would be so understanding. After all, Ray still needs to find his daughter. That would be rather difficult to do from a jail cell. Besides, what could the police really do? Put up flyers of Geirleif? ‘Have you seen this haakönen?’”

  “Geirleif wouldn’t dare come to Woodland,” Rollie said.

  “Probably not, but the haakönen still have friends here. If word gets out that Ray’s looking for Emily, they could make it even more difficult to find her.”

  The others nodded in agreement.

  “Then I guess this is it,” Rollie said. There were tears in his eyes as he hugged the girls goodbye. He even shook Hugh’s paw, stating the mouse was all right—for a gypsy, that is. The plump squirrel tapped his gold-filled pockets. “If any of you ever need anything, just say the word.”

  “Just don’t go wagering all that away,” John said, getting a little choked up himself. “After all, we don’t want you to end up in another box.”

  “Nobody puts Rollie Malloy in a box!” he said with a smile. “No worries. My gambling days are over. I figure I’ve used up all the luck I can afford for a while.”

  “Will we ever see you again?” Lisa asked.

  “Of course you will.”

  “Where will you go?” Violet asked.

  “I’m thinking of opening a restaurant,” Rollie said, pulling his spoon from his pocket. “I’ll call it The Lucky Spoon. You’re welcome to come by any time, no charge.” He turned, waving his lucky spoon over his head and whistling Gary’s river tune as he walked away.

  Hugh faced the group. “If it weren’t for you squirrels, I’d still be rotting in that cell, or worse. I’m forever in your debt.”

  “Do you have a place to go?” John asked.

  “Yes, but first I’ll try to find Sam’s parents. They deserve to know what happened to their son.”

  “What will you tell them?”

  “Just that I knew Sam, that he was a good mouse, and he died amongst friends. It’s not much, but it’s the least I can do. Farewell.” He bowed and limped into town.

  “I guess this is goodbye for us, too,” Lisa said.

  Tears rolled down Violet’s cheeks as she hugged Ray and John goodbye. Lisa took Violet’s paw, and they began to walk towards town.

  “And just where do you two think you’re going?” John asked. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

  “What do you mean?” Lisa asked.

  “I mean you’re coming home with me.”

  “Really?” Violet asked.

  “No, we couldn’t impose,” Lisa said. “Besides, we can take care of ourselves.”

  “I know you can,” John said, “but who will take care of me?”

  Lisa laughed and gave John a hug. Violet looked over at Ray, who was standing off by himself, watching the scene unfold. When he saw her staring back at him, he quickly looked off into the distance.

  “What about Ray?” Violet whispered to John.

  “What do you say, Mr. Grimm?” John called to Ray. “Why don’t you come stay with us? There’s plenty of room.”

  Ray hesitated. “I don’t have time to play house, Mr. Grey. I need to find my daughter. ” He began to lumber into town.

  Lisa pulled on John’s sleeve. “John, do something. He needs our help.”

  “You heard him,” John replied, “I don’t think he wants any help.”

  “He’s just too proud to ask, like all you boys.” She gave him a slight shove in Ray’s direction. “Go talk to him.”

  “Alone? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Yes, alone. Talk to him squirrel-to-squirrel. He’ll listen to you.”

  “What in blazes makes you say that?”

  “Because he likes you.”

  “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Ray?” John made a stabbing motion with his paw. “Punchy-stabby Ray?”

  Lisa gave him a frustrated look before shoving him a little harder.

  John threw up his paws. “All right, I’m going already. You girls wait here.” He ran after the black squirrel. “Ray, wait!”

  Ray turned, and upon seeing John coming his way, he groaned. “What is it now, Mr. Grey?”

  “Well, I was just talking to the girls, and they really think you should come stay with us.”

  “I told you, Mr. Grey, I need to go find my daughter.”

  “And we will find her, Mr. Grimm, but first you need information. You can think of my home as your base of operations.”

  “Base of operations?”

  “That’s right,” John continued. “If you want to find your daughter, first you’ll need a plan.”

  “And what exactly is this plan of yours?”

  John scratched his head. “Well, I haven’t figured that part out yet. But I’ll start working my newspaper contacts, and you can… do whatever it is you do. Something’s bound to turn up.”

  “That’s not much of a plan,” Ray grumbled.

  “Yeah, well, what’s your plan? Kick down every door in Langley?” John pretended to grab someone by the collar and did his best Ray imitation. “Where is she? Tell me!”

  Ray growled and took a step towards him.

  John put up his paws defensively. “I’m just saying you need information, and I’m pretty good at finding it. Why don’t you give me a chance? As soon as we have a solid lead, we’ll go find your daughter.”

  “We?”

  “You don’t think I’d let you go alone?”

  Ray stared at John for a long moment, then dropped his eyes. “Why would you do that for me, Mr. Grey? After all I’ve put you through.”

  “Well, we had a shaky start, fair enough.”

  “A shaky start?” Ray pointed to the missing piece of his ear. “You shot me—in the ear!”

  “Yes, right. Sorry about that. But let’s try not to get hung up on who shot whom in the what. After all, you broke into my home, knocked me out—twice, mind you—kidnapped me. Oh, and my favorite part—you sold me to a royal family of haakönen, who then proceeded to hunt me for sport. But I don’t hold it against you, do I?” He smiled sheepishly.

  Ray shook his head and turned to walk away.

  John chased after him. “Besides, we also rescued half a dozen Woodlanders along the way and put an end to the haakönen’s smuggling ring—all in a couple of weeks. And that was just winging it. Wait until we have a proper plan. Hoo-boy! I tell you, there won’t be any stopping us!”

  Ray
halted, his back still to John. “Mr. Grey, has anyone ever told you how annoyingly optimistic you can be?”

  “Yes, but that’s just the frustration of small minds in the presence of genius, Mr. Grimm.”

  Ray sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Fine, what do you propose we do?”

  “Well, first of all, I know two little girls who would just love it if their Uncle Ray would come stay with us.”

  Ray spun around, pointing a furry finger in John’s face. “Now cut it out with that ‘Uncle’ business.”

  “Right,” John said, holding up his paws. “But before we head home, let’s stop by the market and pick up some food. I’m afraid my cupboards are quite bare. I’ll make us all a veritable feast tonight.”

  Ray rubbed his chin. “You know, Mr. Grey, that may be the first genius thing I’ve heard you say yet.”

  John crossed his arms. “Then I guess you didn’t hear my curtain quip back at Highcastle?”

  “No, I heard it.”

  John scrunched his nose. “Are you sure? Perhaps you misheard me?”

  “No, it was quite clear: ‘It looks like it was curtains for Skallagaan.’”

  “And?”

  “First of all, highly inappropriate, Mr. Grey, given the circumstances. Second of all, it doesn’t even make sense.”

  John threw up his paws in exasperation. “Oh, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You just have to think about it a bit.”

  “I try not to.”

  John laughed. “So, you’ll come stay with us?”

  With an almost pained expression on his face, Ray nodded.

  John called Lisa and Violet over. “Girls, guess who’s coming home with us? Your Uncle”—Ray shot John a look that cut him short—“Er… Mr. Grimm.”

  “Yay!” Violet said, running up and throwing her arms around Ray. The gruff squirrel stood stiffly, embarrassed by the display of affection. He patted her awkwardly on the head.

  Lisa placed a paw on his arm. “I’m glad John finally talked some sense into you, Ray.”

  “More like nonsense,” Ray grumbled.

  “Did you hear that?” John asked. “Ray made a joke!” John began to pat him on the back, but Ray shot him such a look that he stopped short and stuffed his paws into his pockets instead. “Right. Now, who wants to go to the market with me? I’m making us a feast tonight!”

  “Me!” Violet said, hopping up and down.

  “All right, then, everyone follow me.”

  They walked into town, drawing strange looks in their matching jumpsuits, until they reached the open-air market. John wove in and out of the various carts and displays, loading Ray’s arms with all the food he could carry: potatoes, walnuts, cabbages, apples, bananas, tomatoes, pears, celery, butter, olive oil, spices. When Ray’s arms were stacked so high he could scarcely see over the pile, John added a single pie box precariously to the top, then grabbed a bottle of wine to carry himself.

  “All right,” John said, “I think that’s everything.”

  “No, please, Mr. Grey,” Ray said from behind the teetering stack of groceries, “allow me to help you with that.”

  “That’s quite all right, Mr. Grimm. I can manage.” John patted the pockets of his jumpsuit. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any money? I seem to have misplaced my wallet.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ray groaned.

  “Hey, running from the haakönen doesn’t pay nearly as well as working for them.”

  Ray grumbled as he fished the coins out of his pocket, all the while balancing the groceries in a paw. “Sometimes I wish I’d never quit that job.”

  Lisa and Violet looked at each other and giggled. After John had paid the merchant, he led them through the streets of Langley and to his home. As they reached his front yard, his neighbor, Mrs. Nubblin, came running from next door.

  “Yoo-hoo! John! Oh, John!”

  Almost made it, John thought with a shudder. He turned to greet the uninvited squirrel. “Why, hello, Mrs. Nubblin. How are you?”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she said, “but just look at you. You’re a mess. And why are you dressed like that?”

  “We were—rehearsing for a play. Mrs. Nubblin, I’d like to introduce you to my brother, Ray.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you had a brother,” she said, looking up at the towering squirrel. “Ray Grey, is it?”

  “It’s a family name,” John said.

  “Well, how lovely. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ray.”

  “Ma’am,” Ray said, extending a paw from behind the tower of groceries.

  “I must say,” Mrs. Nubblin said, “I don’t see much resemblance between you two. Ray is so big and strong; he looks like an athlete.”

  Ray chuckled softly from behind the groceries, and John shot him an annoyed look.

  Yes,” John said, “well, I got the brains.”

  The towering stack of groceries quivered.

  “And these are Ray’s daughters,” John continued, “Lisa and Violet. They’ll be staying with me for a while.”

  “Aren’t you two adorable?” Mrs. Nubblin said, pinching Lisa’s cheek. John suppressed a laugh as Lisa squirmed uncomfortably. “You must all come over for dinner.”

  “We’d love to, Mrs. Nubblin, but we’ve had a long day. We really need to freshen up. Maybe some other time.” He reached for the door.

  “Of course. Then maybe I could bring over a pie? Do you girls like pie? I have peach cobbler, raspberry, apple—”

  “That all sounds lovely, Mrs. Nubblin, but why don’t you come back tomorrow after we’ve had a chance to rest?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I’ll let you get yourselves settled. We can talk again tomorrow.”

  They watched as Mrs. Nubblin tottered back across the yard.

  “She’s a live one,” Lisa said with an eye roll.

  “You have no idea,” John said. “Well, here we are: home, sweet home. Don’t just stand there, girls. Help your Uncle Ray”—he could feel the burning look Ray shot him from behind the packages—“er, help Mr. Grimm with those groceries.”

  Ray leaned down so Violet could take the pie box from top, and Lisa grabbed a sack of potatoes. She turned the doorknob, but the door wouldn’t budge; it still sat crooked on its hinges.

  “I think it’s stuck,” she said.

  “Nonsense,” John said. “You just have to use a little muscle.” He put his shoulder to the door and winced in pain. Still, the door did not budge.

  “Very little muscle,” Ray said. “Step aside.” He kicked the door and it swung open.

  “Yay!” Violet exclaimed.

  “Right,” John said, rubbing his shoulder. “I must have loosened it for you. By the way, you still owe me a new door, Mr. Grimm.”

  “This had better be some meal,” Ray grumbled as he carried the groceries inside. John headed upstairs to the kitchen, where he put the girls to work cutting up fruits and vegetables while he lit the stove. Soon John had pots boiling and pans simmering, and the house filled with an appetizing aroma.

  Downstairs, Ray attempted to fix the broken door, pushing and prodding it every which way to set it straight on its hinges. He eventually gave up, deciding it would need to be replaced altogether, but it could wait until tomorrow. He sat on the living room sofa, listening to the sounds of John and the girls laughing in the kitchen upstairs. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

  Sometime later, John shook him awake. “Food’s ready, Mr. Grimm.”

  Ray stood groggily and rubbed his eyes. On the table sat the veritable feast John had promised, with a steaming casserole as the centerpiece. Ray took a seat across from John with the girls to either side. They stared at the food, then each other, then the food again. Ray reached for the casserole.

  “Should we say something?” Lisa asked. Ray halted mid-reach and slowly placed his paws back in his lap.

  “Care to say a few words, Ray?” John asked.

  Ray shook his head, pursing his lips as he looked away
. John smiled slightly before reaching out his paws, taking Lisa and Violet’s in his own. They in turn held Ray’s, though he looked extremely uncomfortable with the situation.

  John was not a religious man, but he bowed his head just the same. “I’m thankful for this food we share today. I’m thankful for the protection and guidance we received over the course of our journey together. I’m thankful for the friends we made along the way, and I pray we never forget the friends we lost. And most of all, I’m thankful for those here with me now—I’m thankful for… this family.”

  When he opened his eyes, he found they had grown damp. He looked up to see he was not alone.

  “Amen,” Violet said. “Let’s eat!”

  John laughed. Plates were passed around the table and piled high. John opened the bottle of wine and filled Ray’s glass. Lisa held out her own glass expectantly, but John just clinked it with his own.

  “Cheers,” he said with a wink.

  Lisa persisted. “May I please have some wine?”

  “Ask me again in three or four years, Lisa.”

  Lisa scowled. “After all we’ve been through—”

  “—I should think you’d be happy just being a teenager for a while.”

  Lisa slumped down in her chair and scrunched her face into a pout. After a moment, she acquiesced, pouring herself and her sister some apple juice instead. With a single gulp, she downed the juice and slammed the glass back down on the table. “Ah! Smooth,” she said with a sarcastic smile.

  Violet attempted to emulate her sister, but accidentally belched instead. She gave the others a sheepish look. “Excuse me.”

  “Rollie?” John asked, looking up at the ceiling. “Is that the ghost of Rollie I hear?”

  “Rollie’s not dead!” Violet said.

  “Oh, right. Tell me, ghost of Rollie, did you bring your terrible spoon with you?”

  “Lucky spoon!” Violet corrected.

  “Lucky it’s not on this table, that is—or is it?”

  Violet and Lisa let out a disgusted “ooh” and laughed.

  “I don’t think I could ever eat at Rollie’s restaurant,” Lisa said.

  “But he could be a really good cook,” Violet said. “He definitely likes to eat.”

  “True, but you’d always wonder about that spoon.” Lisa grew queasy at the thought and changed the subject. “So, John, are you going to tell us about this plan of yours to find Emily, or are you just going to sit there stuffing your face?”