Fenway and Hattie and the Evil Bunny Gang

by Victoria J. Coe

  Hooray! Hooray! Finally, the park! I start to romp over, my tail going nuts. But the short humans aren’t going anywhere. They just keep playing ball. Probably for the best. I have way too much to do!

  I trot to the vegetable patch. I have some bunnies to stop.

  Apparently, the ladies have given up trying to talk me out of it. Goldie’s still sighing in the corner while Patches is busy scratching herself. The short humans are whooping and hollering and having fun. I run the length of the side fence, sniffing the dirt. If those villains are even thinking of tunneling in again, I’ll detect them.

  Thwap! Hattie snags the ball, twirling around. She hurls the ball back at Angel.

  Aha! My nose stops at a very interesting spot along the back fence, near the used-to-be hole. My fur bristles. The bunny stench is unmistakable. Good thing I’m on the job!

  I claw the ground, digging furiously. The Evil Bunny Gang is probably right on the other side of the fence! I can hardly wait to see their cowardly bunny faces when a fierce Jack Russell Terrier shows up! I dig and dig, the hole getting wider and deeper . . .

  Right then, the screen door slides open. “Stop! FEN-way! Stop!” Food Lady yells. She races across the porch and into the Dog Park. “Hattie!” she cries, waving her arms.

  “What the—?” Hattie shouts. Her leathery glove falls to the ground as she rushes over.

  In a flash, Food Lady’s at my side, grabbing my collar and pulling me away from the hole. I twist and squirm, for all the good it does. “Wah-chim?” she says to Hattie, sighing in frustration.

  Hattie glares at me. “FEN-way,” she growls.

  What’s she mad at me for? I’d be finishing the job right now if Food Lady hadn’t interfered.

  Food Lady and Hattie take turns talking. They are both upset. Angel must realize Hattie’s done playing because she rounds up Goldie and Patches and they head through the Friend Gate.

  Click! Playtime is over.

  Food Lady hands me over to Hattie as if that’s somehow helping the situation. My humans are obviously unaware of the very real threat. Maybe they think now that the gang leader’s been captured, we can sit back and relax. Or leave the Dog Park unguarded.

  Because that’s what they’re doing. “This is not right,” I bark, wiggling furiously as we head into the house. “I can’t prevent the Evil Bunny Gang from attacking if I’m stuck inside!”

  Hattie slides the door shut behind us and breezes into the Eating Place. Food Lady points at my dirty paws and shoos us into the hallway.

  “On it,” Hattie says, making a guilty face. She whisks me upstairs and into . . . the Bathtub Room? I start kicking. “Hey, what’d I do to deserve this?” I bark.

  I protest until it’s clear she’s going for a big fluffy towel and not putting me in the dreaded bathtub. Hattie rubs me all over until hardly any of the wonderful dirt is left.

  I burrow into the cozy towel as Hattie rubs me some more. Oh yeah, that’s the spot. I’m enjoying the massage so much, I almost forget about the danger we are facing.

  When we get back to the Eating Place, Hattie lifts me up dramatically. “See?” she says as if Food Lady might be surprised that I’m relatively clean.

  Food Lady gives a quick nod of approval, her eyes barely glancing up from a small flashing screen and her fingers splayed and dancing on the counter.

  I squirm out of Hattie’s grasp and spring onto the floor. Now that I’m inside, the Evil Bunny Gang is probably roaming freely in the Dog Park, preparing their assault at this very moment.

  I race to the back door as I hear the clinky-clacky sounds of Hattie putting dishes away. While she’s distracted, I press against the screen door, searching for clues.

  But I haven’t had a chance to find any when Hattie grabs me. “What?” I bark in protest as she sets me down in the Eating Place. Right next to the table. And the cage.

  That Evil Bunny is scrounging in the hay. I can smell his aggression all the way down here. He is clearly plotting against us.

  Hattie leans over, smiling. “Thum-per, Thum-per,” she coos.

  Before Thumper has a chance to react, I assume attack posture. “Don’t even think of trying anything!” I bark.

  “Fenway!” Hattie cries, her voice surprised. Did she forget I was right next to her?

  Thumper looks up, then hops to the front of the cage. His piercing eyes glare down at me. He lifts his chubby hind leg . . . thump!

  I snarl. “Why, of all the obnoxious—”

  Thump! Thump! Thump!

  “Fenway, shhh,” Hattie says in a calming voice. She sneaks a sheepish glance over at Food Lady. She whisks me up and brings me right to the cage. Does she think I need help?

  “I was doing just fine way down there on the floor,” I bark, trying to hide a slight shiver.

  “Awww,” Hattie coos. She clutches me tight, like we’re all having a happy time together and there’s no trouble going on. She brings me closer to the Evil Bunny, babbling sweetly. “Thum-per, Thum-per,” she sings in my ear. She sounds so encouraging. What’s she trying to tell me?

  There’s no time to figure it out. I’m nose to nose with pure evil! I give the bunny my best snarl.

  Hattie sticks her fingers into the cage. To my horror, Thumper wiggles his whiskers in a way that can only be described as menacing. Is he about to bite?

  Luckily, I’m poised to strike. He’d better not try it!

  As Hattie pets his floppy ears, the nasty fur ball starts making a low humming sound. Not clicking or clacking like before. He’s purring!

  I creep up Hattie’s arm, growling. “Look, you monster!” I bark. “You’re not fooling anybody with that cat impression. We’re totally on to you!”

  Food Lady turns away from the flashing screen. “Hattie!” she scolds. Does she suddenly realize the danger Hattie’s in?

  Hattie pulls her fingers out of the cage like they’re on fire. She steps back, making a sorry face at Food Lady, who scrunches up her nose as if she just noticed how bad this imposter smells, too.

  Food Lady points down the hall and goes over to the sink, where water begins whooshing into a pot.

  I’m not sure what’s going on, but Food Lady must be getting through to Hattie. She sets me down, then lifts up the cage and carries it out of the room.

  I follow Hattie down the hall, my tail swishing with excitement. I can hardly wait to see where we’re going. Will we toss the Evil Bunny into the garbage? Dump him in the woods? He deserves much worse. We must get rid of him once and for all!

  Hattie ducks into the little Washing Room. Yippee! I leap and twirl. We’re going to flush him down the deep gurgling bowl! I knew Hattie’d have an awesome plan. I wish I’d thought of it!

  Hattie puts the cage on the counter next to the sink. Very carefully, she opens the little door.

  Wowee! I’m jumping on her legs, panting. I don’t want to miss one single second of the action. That Evil Bunny is going to get exactly what’s coming to him.

  He must realize what’s happening. As soon as Hattie reaches into the cage, he shies away from her hand. He huddles in the corner, glowering. And growling.

  Like we’d be intimidated by the likes of him. I keep jumping on Hattie’s legs. If that sinister fur ball thinks we’re going to back down, he’s even more deranged than I thought.

  But instead of seizing him, Hattie gathers up the partially chewed carrots and shreds of lettuce.

  Thumper gives her a beady-eyed glare of protest.

  Unfazed, Hattie dumps soggy paper into the trash. Why isn’t she getting the job done? Could she be having second thoughts about flushing him? Or is she simply prolonging his agony?

  I can’t stand not knowing. I run in circles, skidding on the mat and nearly crashing into a cabinet.

  As Hattie drops clumps of wet hay in the garbage, Thumper continues his ridiculous
growling. Hissing, too. He burrows into what’s left of the paper.

  I leap as high as I can. Even though there’s no way I can reach the counter, I have to show him who’s in charge. “Surrender, bunny!” I bark. “Accept your fate!”

  “Shhh, Fenway,” Hattie whispers, looking nervously at the door. Is she expecting the Evil Bunny Gang to show up?

  Trembling, I creep to her side and peek down the hall. But I don’t see any signs of them.

  Hattie turns back and reaches into the cage again. Making a sweet face, she coos at that Evil Bunny. She grabs the empty bowl and splashes it in the sudsy sink. She does the same with the plastic bottle.

  Thumper must realize she’s distracted, because he hops up to the front of the cage and starts nibbling on the bars. His eyes glare at us, shiny and vicious, full of determination. He’s trying to escape!

  “You’ve had your last warning!” I bark. I spring into action, my jaws ready to snap. As I leap for the cabinet, I bump against a tall stand that immediately wobbles and teeters and . . .

  Smash! Crash!

  Suddenly, the tall stand is leaning against the wall. Spools of soft paper are unrolling across the floor. Along with oozing lotions and foamy liquids. Which smell terrible, like flowers. And soap!

  “Eeeeeeeeee!” the prisoner squeals.

  Hattie’s hands fly up to her face, her eyes wide in horror.

  I know that look. She’s going to be mad. I scoot away from the mess.

  But Hattie doesn’t yell. She does something much more disturbing. She reaches into the cage. “Thumper,” she soothes, stroking his quivering fur.

  I back into the corner, repulsed. Hattie is comforting this nasty creature. Why? From what?

  “Hattie?” Food Lady calls, charging down the hall. Her voice is full of concern.

  “Eep,” Hattie murmurs, smelling worried. Is she upset about Food Lady? The mess on the floor? Thumper? It’s impossible to know.

  Hattie turns toward the door. Her mouth opens to say something when—

  Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

  My hackles shoot up. Intruders!

  Food Lady pokes her head into the Washing Room, her eyebrows jumping in alarm. Hattie rushes to the front door. I race behind her.

  “Zahra,” Hattie says, her chest pounding.

  Zahra steps into the Lounging Place, the rattly box under her arm. Yippee! Is Zahra here to play?

  “Awww, Fenway,” Zahra says. She bends down and pets me.

  Food Lady appears and shoots a questioning look at Hattie.

  Hattie deflates. She looks at Zahra, her face sad. “Too-bizz-ee,” she says.

  Zahra’s shoulders sink. Her face looks just as glum as Hattie’s. She turns and goes away.

  Food Lady sighs. She speaks to Hattie, sounding exasperated.

  Hattie glances away nervously. She chatters and chatters and chatters.

  Food Lady’s eyes narrow. She looks skeptical. She takes in a breath, like she’s about to speak again, when suddenly the Eating Place goes Beep! Beep! Beep! After wagging a finger, Food Lady rushes off toward the scent of boiling potatoes.

  “Let’s go,” I bark, racing back down the hallway. “We have an Evil Bunny to deal with!”

  Hattie groans and chases me down the hall. Finally, we can get back to work!

  But when we get to the Washing Room, Hattie dashes in and shuts the door. Right on my snout!

  I scratch the door frame. “Hey, what about me?” I bark.

  The door opens a crack. Hattie’s head pops out, her finger to her lips. “Shhh!”

  The door shuts again.

  I sink down and cock my head. From under the door, I hear sounds of water whooshing and stopping, whooshing and stopping. Hattie must be disposing of the Evil Bunny on her own. It doesn’t sound like a struggle . . . yet. Though with bunnies, anything could happen!

  Hattie needs my help. She could be in danger at this very moment! I have to get to her! I pace back and forth, desperate for an idea.

  I’m nearly exhausted from pacing, without any ideas at all, when it occurs to me that I haven’t heard one single bunny noise. Could he already be gone? Down the drain? Out the window? There are millions of ways she could’ve gotten rid of him. I start panting with excitement.

  I leap to my feet and spin in circles. Whoopee! That must be it! It’s the Best News Ever!

  And then, mid-celebration, a terrible thought nips at me. I stop short.

  I didn’t hear any loud swishing or gurgling. Or the pfffft! of the window opening. Is he really gone?

  I must find out. “Hattie! Hattie!” I bark. “Hurry out! I can’t stand the suspense.” I claw and scratch furiously against the door. “Tell me what happened!”

  I barely jump out of the way as the door flies open and Hattie steps out. She’s carrying that big cage.

  Is it empty?

  I leap on her legs for a better sniff. I smell soap. And Evil Bunny.

  I gaze up at the cage. Hateful eyes glare back at me. I shiver.

  Hattie pushes her face into the bars. “Thum-per, Thum-per,” she sings. Her voice is happy and cooing and not the least bit concerned that the mission failed.

  At lunch, Hattie scarfs down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, even though Food Lady’s at the counter with what smells like a delicious, creamy potato salad. With hard-boiled eggs on top. She hides the huge bowl in the tall humming box like she doesn’t want us to eat it.

  Afterward, Food Lady hands Hattie a broom and bosses us out onto the porch. No matter how much I prance and coax, Hattie’s in no mood to play. Her face weary, she glances around at the tangled jump rope, the muddy sneakers, the sweatshirt, and a whole bunch of other stuff. She sighs, like she has a big job to do.

  Of course, I have a big job of my own.

  I gallop into the grass and get busy sniffing around the back fence. With their leader trapped in the house, the Evil Bunny Gang is bound to break in and try to spring him. But they’ll have to get past me first. I’ll be all over those trespassing bunnies. Like fur!

  I’m casing the perimeter of the Dog Park, hunting for signs of them, when I find a suspicious patch of dirt. It’s behind the giant tree along the back fence where that tunnel was. At first the soft soil smells slightly Hattie-ish, but as I dig deeper, I get a stronger whiff of bunny.

  “FEN-way!” Hattie yells, sprinting through the grass. Her eyes are wide with alarm.

  “I’m on it, Hattie!” I quickly burrow into the hole. There’s no time to waste!

  Hattie grabs me by the collar and yanks me out. “No!” she shouts. She gazes up at the house, smelling anxious.

  “Don’t worry,” I bark, straining to get back to work. “I’ll take care of them this time.”

  Apparently, my furious kicking and wriggling don’t reassure her one bit. She finds a big rock, then squats next to the hole and shoves it in. “Leave it!” she demands. Her voice is mad.

  I slink away, my head hanging, my tail sagging. It’s so unfair! I’m just trying to help.

  Hattie shakes an angry finger, then trudges back to the mess on the porch. As soon as her back is turned, I sneak behind a bush. Hattie might think she can handle the Evil Bunny on her own, but she must not realize that we’re up against a whole gang.

  I’m sniffing for another promising spot to dig when the Friend Gate swings open. Angel barrels through, followed by Goldie and Patches! I trot over to meet them.

  After we finish the circle-sniff dance, Patches stands back. “What’s the problem, Fenway?” she says, her face concerned.

  “Let me guess,” Goldie says, glancing back at Hattie. “More bunny trouble?”

  My ears sag. “You could say that.”

  “Come on!” Angel shouts, and we turn. She gestures up at Hattie’s little house in the giant tree, a gleam in her eye. She runs over
to the trunk and waves for Hattie to follow.

  Angel grabs on to the rungs that lead to the way-up-high branches. She keeps shouting to Hattie, “Come on!” as she climbs.

  But Hattie stays put on the porch, watching with sad eyes. Her shoulders are slumped. Her face is full of longing.

  Patches turns to Goldie. “I suppose that’s the bunny’s fault, too?” she says in a voice that does not sound lovely at all.

  Goldie humphs. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Newcomers usually mess things up.”

  “Or struggle to fit in,” Patches says, bordering on grouchy.

  Whoa. The ladies disagree sometimes—or maybe even most of the time—but they’re family. I can’t shake the feeling that something else is going on.

  “Hattie!” Angel’s voice calls from the leafy branches. “Come on!”

  Hattie appears to think for a second. She glances nervously at the window. Then she rushes around the porch, gathering all the stuff and piling it in the corner. She sweeps the broom once or twice, then tosses it aside. After another quick glance over her shoulder, she races to the giant tree and starts climbing.

  “So, Fenway,” Goldie says, sinking casually into the grass. “What’s going on with the bunny?”

  “He’s still trapped in the cage, but I have to be on guard against the others.” I sneak a look at the back fence. “I’ve sniffed and sniffed. I’ve dug around in every hole. The Evil Bunny Gang won’t catch me by surprise.”

  “Digging holes?” Patches interrupts, her lovely voice returning, full of concern. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? You could get scolded. Or worse!”

  “Listen, Fenway,” Goldie says. “You’re facing a way bigger threat than bunnies tunneling under the fence.”

  My fur stiffens. “What could be worse than a Gang of Evil Bunnies?”

  Goldie gapes at me for a second like I asked a dumb question. Or maybe she has to think about the answer. “Um, let me put it this way,” she says. “Has your short human been treating you differently lately?”