The Earthkeepers

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The Earthkeepers Page 14

by Shawn Underhill


  I’m always careful, I said with a smile. Stop worrying so much and have fun. See you at the bottom!

  Well, Dad was right. There wasn’t enough snow get going very fast. I kept my weight centered and kept paddling with my hands, but the grass poking up through the snow just wouldn’t let me go like I wanted to. But it was okay, though, because I knew there would be many months of deep snow ahead, and the whole point of it had only been to show the animals.

  At the bottom I pulled back on the rope and came to an easy stop. Ginny had kept right behind me the whole time, so I saw her first when I looked back. Then I saw Stomper ambling down the hill, grunting and groaning as he came thump-thumping along.

  “Hmm,” he rumbled as he came near. “Here we are down the hill, Ethan. Now what do we do?”

  We go back up, I answered simply.

  “Back up? Hmm. This I do not understand. If we wanted to be uphill, why then did we come downhill? Hmm?”

  For the fun of it, I answered. This is how people have fun in the winter.

  “Ah, I see, I see,” he nodded. “This must be another one of those strange differences between us. For fun you might go down hills. Hmm, and as for me, for fun I might wade into a swamp to eat mushy weeds. Or, I might scratch my shoulder on some nice rough bark. A good scratching is, hmm, in my opinion, one of the great joys in life.”

  I guess so, I shrugged. I’d never really given much thought to the joys of scratching. An itch was just something to deal with in order to get back to doing something more important. But then again, it was much easier for me to scratch my back then for a moose to scratch his.

  Stomper started up the hill along with the other animals that had joined us. I was sort of laughing to myself as I started dragging the sled back up the hill, when something from the road caught my eye. Upon a second look I realized I was seeing the late morning sun glinting on a car that was coming up the road toward the inn.

  “It’s your uncle,” Ginny said a second later. “I’m sure that’s his car.”

  “Uncle?” said Stomper, who was a good twenty feet in front of us. “The Chuck? Hmm,” he groaned thoughtfully. “I must see this Chuck for myself.” And at once he started trotting up the hill at a quicker pace. After a few steps, however, he realized that I was quickly falling behind. He slowed himself again, looked back and asked, “Are you coming uphill, Ethan?”

  “Yes,” I answered aloud, already breathing hard from climbing. I just can’t climb as fast as you. I only have two short legs, remember?

  “Ah, differences again,” he said with a slow nod. “You are right, little Ethan. I must take care to remember such things. M-hmm.”

  “Just go ahead,” Ginny told him. “We’ll be right along.”

  ***

  By the time I made it to the top of the hill, there was quite an interesting scene unfolding by the inn. The crowd of animals had thinned significantly, with only the wolves, the bear, a few raccoons and squirrels, and some of the birds remaining. Berrybottom was still plopped close to the trailhead, and the wolves had gathered together near the skating pond. Dad and Uncle Chuck were near the corner of the house where the walkway curved round to meet the driveway, and they were arguing back and forth, their voices getting increasingly louder. Mom was trying to calm them both down, while my aunt stood back near the car. Her hands were deep in the pockets of her fur coat, likely searching for her mirror and lipstick.

  I felt a little bad for my dad as I drew near. Deep down, even though he knew Uncle Chuck wasn’t a very good man, he still wanted things to be good between them. So even though I was glad to see my uncle as bitterly disappointed as he was, I felt sorry for my father for being put into such an uncomfortable situation as he was.

  “Are you absolutely insane?” was the first clear line I heard my uncle say as I crossed the driveway toward the back yard. “You can’t turn this place into a petting zoo in hopes of attracting more business,” he blurted. “It won’t work, Russell. There are laws and liabilities to consider. Here I am trying to help you, my little brother, and this is what you do! If you back out of our deal now, and go on with some other silly plan, you’ll sink yourself so deep into a hole you’ll never be able to climb out.”

  I stopped just shy of the back of their fancy car, so my aunt and uncle didn’t see me, or Stomper and Ginny, standing there.

  “We’re not starting a zoo,” Dad said slowly. He was obviously struggling to remain calm and collected. “I never suggested anything like it.”

  “Then what on earth are you doing with all these animals?” my uncle shouted. “I can’t believe it, Russ. Just when I think you’re finally starting to grow up, when you’re about to make a practical, profitable decision—which would be the best decision you’ve ever made, by the way—you go and pull a stunt like this!”

  “This isn’t a stunt, Chuck,” Mom said. “Please, stop shouting and listen to your brother for a change.”

  “Oh, stick a sock in it, woman!” Chuck barked. “You haven’t a clue about anything that takes place outside of a kitchen. Stay out of this.”

  “Can’t you even pretend to be civil?” Dad said, stepping around Mom, closer to my uncle. His voice was shaking with anger.

  “Civil?” shouted my uncle. “I’m being more than civil. I’m trying to help you get your life on track!”

  “Apologize to Ellie,” Dad said. “Right now.”

  “Argh!” scoffed Uncle Chuck. “Apologize? You can both apologize to me for wasting my time and effort. I’m trying to be a good brother and look out for your best interests.”

  Yeah, right, I said silently, and at that moment, something very surprising happened.

  Just as I made my silent comment, Uncle Chuck seemed to wince. He made no sound, but his whole body bristled and became very tense, as if he’d had ice cold water dumped over him. His shoulders heaved way up as he inhaled, then sunk again as he exhaled. And then, very slowly, he turned to face me with an expression far uglier than his usual sour milk scowl.

  He hears, Ginny whispered. I can’t believe it! He’s heard us all along.

  I couldn’t believe it either. As he turned around slowly, the sight of his hateful glare caused me to take a few steps back.

  Chapter 13

  “You,” my uncle said in a guttural voice, being so angry and so fixated on me that he didn’t seem to notice the massive moose standing a few feet from me. “You’ve been nothing but trouble right from the start,” he croaked. “It took me years to shut my brother up of all this animal nonsense—all this sappy, sentimental crap. Then you came along, refusing to speak like a normal kid, trying to drag the whole family backwards, always whispering with that—that miserable hair factory you call a dog.”

  Time seemed to stand still while Uncle Chuck was speaking. I think my father was even more shocked than I was, so neither of us made any immediate reply to my uncle. My mother stood silently behind my father, and my aunt’s head darted back and forth. She was more lost than any of us at that point. Ginny stood alert by my side, waiting to meet Chuck should he make a move toward me.

  “Hmm,” groaned Stomper, breaking the silence and taking a step closer to my uncle. “I take you to be the Chuck—the Chuck behind all the problems of recent days,” he said. “Allow me to make myself known. I am Clodstomper, king of bulls, and you, Chuck, are speaking unkindly to my friend Ethan. Hmm. It is clear to me, by your speech and by your stance, that you have come here for a fight; for I know the look of a bull on the prowl. And now, hmm. I, Clodstomper, accept your challenge. Stand down from little Ethan! Try me!” he boomed with a loud snort and blow. “TRY ME!”

  As Stomper spoke, his voice getting deeper and louder, Uncle Chuck slowly lifted his eyes from me to the monstrous bull. In that short span of time, his expression underwent a radical change. First the color went out of his skin. Then his eyes went from being shaped very sharply with anger to being very wide and white with awe. Next his lip began to quiver. Then all his limbs began to shake, and
he showed no ability to scowl, grumble, or do anything but stand there trembling all over.

  After that, everything started to happen very quickly. I felt Ginny pushing against me, shoving me toward the side of the house. Stomper scuffed his hoof on the ground as he lowered his massive antlers in the direction of my uncle. Then there was a lot of noise at once—so much noise that I couldn’t be certain who was speaking, who was shouting, or who was cheering. All I could be sure of was that Stomper had charged at Uncle Chuck, which sent my uncle screaming, and running (in his slippery dress shoes) for his life.

  Stomper made a mad lunge and missed as my uncle ducked as he ducked along the fence to evade him. The moose swung around wide, like a large vehicle making a sweeping turn, and squared off for a second charge. My uncle then ran parallel to the fence, and being so distracted, he didn’t notice the fresh pile of moose droppings by the last remnants of scattered corn stalks. Of course he stepped right in the pile, running full speed, and as a result went slipping and skating for several feet until finally falling flat on his back. He screamed a horrible scream of rage and fear as he struggled to get away from the slippery mess he’d fallen into. Then, scrambling to his feet at last, he hopped the fence and rushed for the safety of his car.

  This worked well as far as temporarily protecting himself, but proved to be very bad for the fancy German car. Aside from the fact that his now filthy clothes were soiling the car’s lavish interior, Stomper began kicking and beating the exterior with his hooves, denting it as easily a finger dents a soda can. Then, unsatisfied with that form of combat, the moose lowered his head, planted his hooves, pushed with all his might, and used his antlers all up and down the driver’s side of the car. So strong was the force of his jousting, the entire vehicle rocked and began to slide across the snowy driveway. A few times, when Stomper thrust his head in an upward motion, the car’s wheels were temporarily lifted right off the ground.

  Meanwhile, across the yard, Berrybottom bear was roused by all the action. After quietly sitting by through all the meetings and hardly saying a word, evidently he now saw his chance to vent his frustrations for being jarred from his hibernation. Like a huge black ball, the bear suddenly came bounding down the hill in a flash.

  At the sight of Berry my aunt screamed and ran past my parents, only to be stopped in her tracks at the base of the back steps by a pack of snarling wolves. Berrybottom rushed between my parents and the fence, took a leap, and landed on the hood of Uncle Chuck’s car. The metal crinkled beneath his weight as he roared and jumped and beat the vehicle with all his might. From the hood he moved his attack to the windshield, and finally to the roof. Within a few seconds the roof was caving in around my terrified, screaming uncle.

  Next my father jumped into the fray. By desperately pleading he was able to get Stomper to back away from the car, huffing and snorting and stomping his hooves. But try as he might, Dad couldn’t reason with the bear. Until Berrybottom was finished with his brief temper fit, there was absolutely no getting through to him.

  In the meantime, as Dad distracted the moose, Uncle Chuck crawled out the passenger door and slithered onto the ground across from where I was standing by the house. The bear moved down the rear windshield and began beating on the trunk. Then Stomper caught sight of my uncle as he slithered from the open door and scrambled to his feet. Dad pleaded with the moose just long enough for my uncle to put some space between himself and his tormentor. Chuck looked in the direction of the house momentarily, and then made a dash for the front walkway, which led to the grand entryway of the inn.

  Looking over one’s shoulder in mortal fear certainly can’t be a good feeling. It’s also a very bad idea when running full speed. Uncle Chuck was so preoccupied with Stomper and Berry that he failed to watch where he was running. As a result, with a terrible thud he ran headfirst into the sign which read: The Inn at Maple Grove. He fell back, his feet flying out before him, and landed first on his head before the rest of him fell back flat in the snow.

  By then Stomper could be contained no longer. Dad ducked to avoid his antlers as the bull sped off thunderously. He made a wide turn around the sign as Chuck was slowly struggling to his feet again, then stopped on the front lawn, snorting and blowing, stomping and swaying his great rack. “Face me, coward!” boomed the moose. “You, who came to conquer, stand now and face me!”

  In the end Stomper had a very profound effect on Uncle Chuck. Evidently his presence on the lawn was enough to steal away his hope of ever reaching the grand entryway. Without a word he turned away from the bull and took off running straight up the road parallel to the ski hill. No one standing there watching that day could deny that it was an impressive dash he made, especially considering that his formerly shiny shoes had no tread whatsoever. By all respects, most professional football teams would’ve been glad to have Chuck as a wide receiver. But ultimately even Chuck himself must have realized that no human, no matter how frightened, could match the endurance of an angry bull in a long pursuit. As fast as he ran, with every stride he took the bull drew closer, closer, until the tips of his antlers were literally inches behind Chuck’s fluttering coattails.

  At last the distance along the top of the ski hill had been covered. Both Chuck and Stomper disappeared behind the cover of the distant trees that lined both sides of Raccoon Hill Road.

  As if that hadn’t been dramatic enough, as soon as Chuck and Stomper went out sight, suddenly there was a terrible scream from the back yard. Mom, Dad, Ginny and I all looked in time to see the newest battle erupting.

  As it turned out, some of the wolves had taken issue with my aunt’s gray coyote fur coat. Now three of them were in the process of removing it from her by force. She kicked and screamed bloody murder for fifteen or twenty seconds, but in the end she suffered no harm other than her wounded pride. Once freed of her luxurious coat, my aunt scrambled up the stairs on all fours and crawled screeching into the kitchen. She didn’t stop screeching until she’d kicked the door shut.

  ***

  After a minute or so of total chaos, silence descended on us.

  “My apologies on behalf of my pack,” Lobo said to my father. “There are some things which cannot be tolerated, and must be punished in the moment that they arise. The frizzy-haired woman with the unnatural lips was not harmed, only relieved of her despicable trophy. She should be thankful to have all four of her limbs intact.”

  Dad nodded in acknowledgment, but like the rest of us, he was still too stunned for words.

  “Well, well,” said Prowler, as he popped out from his hiding place under the steps and looked around. “That escalated quickly, wouldn’t you say? Haw-haw-haw! Old Berry just about the scared the stripes right off my tail.” He looked at me and said, “I told you, Ethan. Mind you, I told you. Never take a bear lightly.”

  ***

  Within a few minutes all the animals began returning to the back yard. Everyone was commenting on how quickly the confrontation had gotten out of hand, asking one another if they were all right, and in general commentating the way crowds of spectators often do after some great event.

  Berrybottom came waddling over to my dad, sat down with a grunt, and in a very deep but somehow soft spoken voice, he offered a sincere apology for his terrible outburst.

  “We all lose our temper now and then,” Dad said somewhat nervously. He was standing a few yards back from the bear, just to be safe.

  “I get so very cranky when I’m over tired,” the bear explained, bobbing his head as if agreeing with himself. “I may not always say a lot, but I do listen to the happenings. And today was no different. I listened closely to everything that was said here this morning, and I thought to myself, ‘Berry, old boy, you’ve got a good thing here on Raccoon Hill. And by the looks of it, so do these dewy fields persons. They’re just the kind of folks you’d like to see maintaining such a nice portion of forest. No wonder the Earthkeepers put their trust in them. And no wonder everyone from last night seemed to like the little
fellow, Ethan. All in all, they’re a good bunch of neighbors to be neighborly with.’”

  “That’s good of you to say,” Dad offered.

  “And when I realized that the other man—what’s-his-name, your brother—was doing his best to ruin everything for us all … Well, I guess I just got a little carried away.”

  “No harm done,” Dad said. “Except for the car, that is. I mean, no people—or animals were harmed. That’s my point. That’s the good part.”

  “Ah, many folks think of us bears as bullies and grumpy brutes,” said the bear. “But really, I’d like you to know that that’s not the real me. I don’t like getting angry. Not at all. The truth is, I much prefer relaxing, eating my fair share, taking a nice nap in the sunshine, and just enjoying the peace and quiet around here. That’s me.”

  Barkrunner quivered where he sat perched on the fence. He seemed just about to make a remark when the bear mentioned eating, but in the end he steadied himself and remained silent.

  That’s what many people are like, I told Berry. The people that come here to stay at our inn like doing many of the same things as you do.

  “I see,” said the bear, bobbing his head. “Well, if one must have neighbors, those are the best kind to have.”

  Now Stomper came along up the driveway and into the backyard, still breathing hard from his chase. Dad excused himself to the bear and went up to the moose.

  “Hmm, before you ask,” he said, “let it be known that I caused no harm to the Chuck. It is true that I chased him—and I won’t deceive you, I enjoyed my chase very much—but I never made contact with him. No.”

  “Other than being terrified, is he okay?” Dad asked.

  “Hmm,” groaned the moose. “Okay? By that are you asking if his health is well? That, I could not say.”

  Dad immediately started off toward the road, calling back quickly, “Where is he now, Stomper?”

 

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