Gnawing Around

by Marcie Colleen

“There will be no welcoming in the Woods as stated by Mayoral Decree one-point-three-A!” Humphrey called after the wagon.

  “Sssstop them!” hissed Sherry.

  And all the townscritters got in line after the bears and headed down to the river.

  When the Super Happy Party Bears realized they were being followed, they cheered.

  “WE LOVE PARADES!” they shouted, and marched that sourpuss of a procession straight to the monsters.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  There on the banks of the Grumpy River was not a pair of monsters but a pair of beavers. Next to the pair of beavers was a heap of sticks, logs, trunks, and twigs of all shapes and sizes. The wood was twisted and woven together to create a mound that stretched across the river and held back the flow of water. Upriver the water bulged and swelled. Yet downriver it was barely a trickle.

  The beavers hoisted more trees, one by one, onto the pile.

  “Truly magnificent,” said one beaver.

  “Absolutely. The best river views in all of real estate,” replied the other beaver.

  “Nothing but the best for my Mitzi-witzy,” responded the first beaver.

  The Grumpy Woods residents stayed back, their mouths hanging open. But then the Super Happy Party Bears sprang into action.

  “WELCOME TO THE GRUMPY WOODS!” they cheered, and rolled out the red carpet—literally.

  “Oh dear,” said the beaver named Mitzi, obviously startled. “Nelson, I thought you said this was a secluded area.”

  “Why, yes, Mitzi darling. Apparently these bears are a bit lost.” And then under his breath to the bears, Nelson said, “Get lost.” “We’re not lost,” said Mops.

  “We’re your neighbors!”

  At the word neighbors, Mitzi practically fainted.

  Three more beavers suddenly poked their heads out from the pile of trees and leaves in the middle of the river. “What’s all the commotion?” they asked. “It woke the baby.”

  “Oh, nothing, Devon. Nothing to worry about, Cricket. Just some riffraff passing by.”

  “We brought a casserole,” said the littlest bear.

  Nelson approached, sniffed the casserole, and then passed it off to Devon. “This might work to seal up that crack in the foundation.”

  Meanwhile, Cricket and Mitzi inspected the red carpet for possible use in their beaver lodge perched on top of the dam.

  “Very well,” said Nelson. “Now, if you don’t mind, we are on a bit of a schedule.”

  “But we haven’t played our icebreaker name game yet,” said Jacks. “You go first, Nelson, so we can learn your name.”

  “My name is Nelson.”

  “No. Say something like, ‘My name is Nelson, and I’m bringing noodles to the party.’”

  “I am not bringing any noodles.”

  “Nuts?”

  “No.”

  “Napkins?”

  “Nope.”

  “You have to bring something, Nelson,” explained Shades. “So that we learn your name.”

  “My name is Nelson, and apparently I’m bringing nincompoops to the party.”

  “HELLO, NELSON!” cheered the bears.

  “HUG TIME!”

  Nelson, however, was saved as Mayor Quill stepped forward.

  “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “I am Quill, mayor of the Grumpy Woods.”

  The littlest bear pouted. “Quilly, you aren’t playing correctly! You always say, ‘My name is Mayor Quill, and I am bringing quiet to the party.’ Silly Quilly!”

  “Listen, I do appreciate this little shindig or whatever,” said Nelson, “but I really must be getting back to work. Dams don’t build themselves, you know.”

  “Can we have a tour when it’s finished?” asked Mops.

  “Certainly,” said Nelson sarcastically. “I can think of nothing more thrilling. In fact, let’s sell tickets.”

  Mayor Quill chuckled. “Hee-hee. Silly bears.” He winked at Nelson to prove he understood how annoying the bears were. “No one is taking any tours. Now, if we could all just give the beavers some space, they can pack up and move on.”

  Nelson chuckled. “Hee-hee. Silly mayor. No one is packing up and moving on. Now, if you all could kindly get off my property …”

  “Your property?” fumed Mayor Quill. “This is the Grumpy Woods!”

  “Ah yes. And so I say, quite grumpily, YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!” announced Nelson. And he waddled off, using his big flat tail to slam the door of the lodge behind him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Between the quill storms and the many decrees he had written, the mayor was going to be bald by dinnertime.

  “‘Mayoral Decree two hundred thirty-eight,’” Mayor Quill read aloud as he wrote. “‘Beavers are a nuisance and should be treated as such.’”

  “Well said, sir,” said Humphrey. “How dare they speak to you like that!”

  “Ssssomething sssshould be done,” said Sherry.

  “We should write them a letter,” suggested Bernice Bunny.

  “No more mail,” groaned Mayor Quill, still reeling from his morning visit to the Party Patch. He continued writing. “‘Mayoral Decree two hundred thirty-nine: The welcome wagon shall be rolled off Grumpy Cliff immediately.’”

  “Whoooomever heard of a welcome wagon?” scoffed Opal.

  “We will unwelcome that wagon. Smash! Crash!” added Bernice.

  “I can think of a few other things I’d like to roll off Grumpy Cliff,” mumbled Humphrey.

  “That’s it!” said Mayor Quill. “Let’s unwelcome the beavers!”

  “You want to roll them off the cliff?” asked Dawn.

  “No, no,” answered Quill. “I suggest we make an unwelcome sign.”

  Humphrey waggled his spines. “Most excellent, sir. Once the beavers realize they are unwelcome, they will surely move on!”

  Everyone grumbled about it, but no one had a better idea, so they got to work.

  Sam’s bushy tail made the perfect scary brushstrokes when dipped in berry juice. Dawn Fawn provided a pile of burrs collected during her most recent sweeping of the Woods. And when Sheriff Sherry set her mind to it, her fangs did some amazing whittling.

  When they were done, the sign was drippy. It was spiky. And it was unwelcoming.

  To show their solidarity, the townscritters took the sign to the river shore by the beavers’ dam. Together, they smacked it into the ground.

  As they proudly marched away, Mayor Quill glanced back and was sure he could see four pairs of beady eyes peering out from the lodge. He was certain it would be only a matter of time until the beavers packed their things and left to clog up someone else’s river someplace far away.

  And maybe that would have happened … if the Super Happy Party Bears hadn’t gone to the riverbank, too, just after them.

  “What a beautiful sign,” they squealed. After all, it was prickly and reminded them of their beloved mayor. “What a wonderful idea!”

  “‘Unwelcome to the Grumpy Woods,’” read Mops. “What do you suppose that means?”

  “It’s actually ‘UN Welcome to the Grumpy Woods,’” explained Bubbles, briefly pausing his bubble blowing. “There’s a space. It stands for United Neighbors Welcome to the Grumpy Woods.“

  “YAY! We LOVE the United Neighbors!” cheered the bears. “We should go to their next meeting.”

  “And bring doughnuts,” added the littlest bear.

  “Kindly get off our lawn!” came a voice from inside the lodge.

  “NELSON!” cheered the bears.

  “We came to retrieve our casserole dish,” said Shades. “No worries if you didn’t have time to wash it and fill it up with something equally tasty. We understand that moving can be stressful.”

  “What’s that sign?” asked Nelson.

  “On behalf of the United Neighbors,” proclaimed Mops, “we welcome you, once again, to the Grumpy Woods.”

  The bears did a dance.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The four beavers came
outside and stood gazing up at the ghastly sign. The baby beaver cried.

  “It’s quite tacky, isn’t it?” whispered Devon.

  “Truly,” agreed Mitzi as quietly as her rising blood pressure would allow. “Next thing you know, these bears will be bringing us a pink plastic flamingo.”

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” gushed the bears.

  “Not quite the word I would choose,” muttered Cricket.

  “It makes mine look so teeny,” said the littlest bear. He held up a sign with a bow around its post and a tag that read:

  To: my favoritest neighbors

  From: littlest bear

  Painted on the sign were a garden gnome and the words

  “Oh, puns. How quaint,” said Mitzi, rolling her eyes.

  “Puns are a sign of language mastery,” stated Bubs.

  “But the United Neighbors sign is so much more beautiful,” said littlest bear, holding back tears.

  Just then Nelson had an idea.

  “Well, it seems to me that United Neighbors means that this sign could be placed anywhere in the woods. It’s for all of us. While the gnome sign is a very special gift.”

  Cricket caught on quickly. “Oh yes. This humongous sign belongs where others can enjoy it.”

  “It would be a crime to keep it to ourselves,” added Devon.

  “We LOVE sharing!” cheered the bears. “Just wait until Quilly sees this beautiful sign in front of City Hall, where everyone can enjoy it!”

  And that was that. The sign went to City Hall. And the beavers stayed.

  As for the GNOME, SWEET GNOME sign? Well, let’s just say that the beavers got a new doormat.

  “Unwelcoming us?” said Mayor Quill when he found the sign the next day. “The nerve of those beavers!”

  “If they won’t leave,” said Humphrey, “then we will have to find a way to keep them out. Here’s my new idea to unwelcome them: We will build a wall.” He unrolled blueprints for a giant wall along the riverbank. “Sherry can patrol from the ground. Sam will be able to spy from the tree branches above,” he explained.

  Everyone liked the idea. But no one cheered. They were too grumpy for that.

  Instead, they got to work constructing the tallest, most towering wall ever.

  Sam and Bernice were on saw—or gnaw—duty.

  Opal flew high to hold the logs in place as Humphrey hammered them together using quills. (Don’t ask where he got those from.)

  Mayor Quill shouted orders. No surprise there.

  And Dawn, of course, was on cleanup duty.

  It was quite a team effort.

  The wall was twenty-four Sherrys long and eight Sherrys tall. Sherry had objected to being used as a ruler, but since they had no proper measuring instruments, she was forced to cooperate.

  When the wall was finished, the townscritters weren’t the only ones applauding.

  “A gated community! How wonderful,” gushed Mitzi, a tear in her eye.

  “Absolutely dreamy!” exclaimed Cricket.

  Devon chuckled. “Seems we’ve seen the last of the riffraff.”

  “Good riddance,” said Nelson.

  But they had spoken too soon.

  “A howdy and a half, neighbors!”

  It was the bears. Apparently, twenty-four Sherrys long was not long enough. The bears simply walked around the wall.

  “My, what persistent little legs you have, to go so long out of your way to see us,” said Mitzi, smiling with clenched teeth.

  “A wall between neighbors is never long,” stated Bubbles, who then blew a huge, shiny bubble that popped right on Nelson’s nose. POP!

  The Super Happy Party Bears loved visiting their new neighbors—which really meant standing near the beavers, oohing and aahing over everything the beavers said, and occasionally breaking into a dance. The beavers had long ago decided that the only way to handle this kind of visit was to “not look them in the eye and hope they go away.” So far it hadn’t worked.

  Over tea, the beavers were discussing the almost-finished lodge made of logs and leaves and sticks. They ignored the bears.

  “Oh, how I wish we could create that sunroom,” Mitzi said with a sigh. “It would be the absolute perfect spot where you could work on the Sunday crossword puzzle, Nelson.”

  “Indeed,” agreed Cricket. “And imagine the stargazing we could do at night, Devon.”

  Although Devon and Nelson wished to add a sunroom to the lodge, there was one very big issue.

  “Unfortunately,” said Nelson, “we are running out of logs.”

  “It’s a pity there just isn’t enough lumber.” Devon sighed.

  At that, the Super Happy Party Bears, excited to be of help, chimed in. “We know where there is plenty more wood!”

  You see, there was a big flaw in the townscritters’ plan. The only building material available in the Grumpy Woods was … well, wood.

  And beavers chew wood and use it to build things. You can imagine what happened to the massive wooden fence—go ahead and imagine it.

  There was a lot of chewing and gnawing, and by the next morning, Nelson, Devon, Mitzi, and Cricket had the sunroom they’d always wanted.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Grumpy Woods was becoming the Even Grumpier Woods.

  The unwelcome sign had disappeared. The gigantic fence had disappeared. The beavers had not disappeared, and they didn’t seem to have any plans to do so. Instead, the dam and the lodge on top got bigger—just like the townscritters’ tempers.

  “We need to come up with another plan, sir,” said Humphrey.

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” Mayor Quill snapped. Humphrey noticed the mayor’s quills beginning to tremble and feared another quill storm.

  “Whoever thought that ssssilly wall would work, anyhow?” complained Sherry.

  “Who are you calling s-s-s-s-silly?” snapped Humphrey.

  “Could you-hooooo keep it down? Some of us were ruuuudely awoken,” hooted Opal.

  “You didn’t hear this from me, but …” started Sam.

  “NOT NOW!” everyone shouted.

  “It’s hopeless! I NEED MY DUST BUNNY!” sang Dawn. The destruction of the wall had left behind piles of sawdust that Dawn was frantically trying to sweep up.

  “Ack! No you don’t!” protested Bernice. Bernice hated being used as Dawn’s duster even more than she hated being interrupted while reading.

  “MUST CLEAN! MUST DUST, MUST DUST, MUST DUST!” Dawn sang out.

  “QUIET!” yelled Mayor Quill. “The last thing anyone wants to hear right now is your singing.

  If you don’t stop, I’m going to leave the Grumpy Woods!”

  “Sir, that’s it, sir!” said Humphrey, perking up. “I have a plan! What’s worse than Dawn’s singing?”

  No one had an answer.

  “You, sir. You singing!”

  “I beg your pardon,” said Mayor Quill.

  “Not just you, sir. All of us.”

  “Speak for yourself,” hooted Opal.

  “All right, maybe not Opal. But no one ever said, Just listen to the beautiful sounds of that porcupine. Or hedgehog! Or squirrel! If we become the Grumpy Woods Chorus, we can serenade those lumberjacks until they can’t take it anymore!”

  “My aunt Marty always did complain about my singing,” admitted Sam.

  “Rabbits are known to be unable to carry a tune. I read that in a book,” said Bernice.

  So off the townscritters went, looking like holiday carolers with attitude.

  When they got to the lodge, they found the bears already there, throwing a housewarming party for their new neighbors.

  “Look!” said the littlest bear. “Everyone else came to the party, too!” He clapped his paws in delight.

  “SUPER HAPPY NEW HOME!” cheered the bears. “Let the housewarming party begin!”

  “Hand out the doughnuts,” added Mops.

  The sun was starting to set, and the beavers were indeed celebrating the completion of their new home … whil
e doing their best to ignore the other animals around them.

  “Simply lovely,” said Nelson.

  “Oh yes, lovely,” agreed Mitzi.

  “To fabulous new views and horizons,” declared Devon.

  “Most definitely,” added Cricket.

  The bears applauded in the background. “This is the most special day ever!”

  “I actually have gifts for all of us,” announced Mitzi, trying hard to ignore the bears and their party dance. “Earmuffs!” Mitzi pulled out five pairs of homemade earmuffs, perfectly sized for four adult beavers and one baby beaver who wanted to pretend that a group of Super Happy Party Bears was not dancing around them.

  “Huzzah!” cheered the beavers, and they clinked their glasses.

  At that moment, a sound rose up from the riverbank as the townscritters decided to add their own bit of flavor to the party. It was an ear-splitting combination of howling, yowling, and weepy screeching.

  The townscritters gave it their all. But the beavers, under their earmuffs, didn’t hear a thing.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The sun went down and the stars came out. The townscritters kept singing louder and louder and louder, but it didn’t do any good. The beavers just relaxed in their sunroom, enjoying the views that only the best real estate along the Grumpy River could provide.

  Meanwhile, the bears cheered and chatted and cheered some more, never even caring that their new neighbors simply smiled politely and nodded gently so as to not disrupt the earmuffs atop their heads.