The Rightful Heir

by Jefferson Knapp

“What do you mean?”

  “The kingdom our lord wasss going to overtake ssstill exissstsss. Rumorsss sssay an heir to the throne hasss been found.” Hissing grew over the idea of revenge. “I believe the massster knew they would ssseek King Pugsssly’sss heir. Then came the massster’sss unfortunate death!” The evil laughter of a few snakes caused the others to wonder.

  “Isss thisss new heir already their king?”

  “No. The pathetic human hasss sssaid he will bring him back.”

  “How do you know thisss, Sssiloam?”

  The rattlesnake raised his neck and glared arrogantly at the rotting corpse. “I have ssspiesss that Farangisss did not care to asssoccciate with… hisss ego wasss hisss demissse.” He hissed loudly and the other snakes, without being commanded, lined up in front of him. “Now I have ssspoken with Sssebassstian.”

  “He wasss blinded by the human boy’sss fire, wasssn’t he?” a voice asked.

  “Hisss sssight isssn’t what it wasss. He isss ssstill the only one who knowsss the entrance to the kingdom, however.” Siloam’s rattle sounded loudly. “I have given him a new order. He hasss sssent the buzzardsss to sssearch the western landsss and quessstion all creaturesss about the heir. My ssspy sssaysss he will be coming from the wessst.”

  “And if they find him?”

  “Then I will go and kill him!” Siloam boasted, slithering on top of the gargantuan rotting body of his former master. He hissed loudly and the others rattled in satisfaction. “Friendsss, we will sssoon have our revenge!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  A Surprise From Above

  IT WAS A RATHER QUIET, late-September afternoon in the cave across from the Biggs’s mailbox. Most of the animals were outside, either playing in the pasture or gathering food for the upcoming winter. Roscoe, Clementine, and a few others were inside, lounging by the small pool. A falling leaf now and then would find its way through the ceiling hole and into the water.

  “Hey, Roscoe, tell me again the story of how you beat that giant goat in a jousting contest!” Squeak, the field mouse, stood on his hind legs and looked into an eye of the fainting goat, who lay on his side.

  “Alright, little mouse. I think you’ve fed the Matador’s ego enough.” The pot-bellied pig waddled over to Roscoe, sitting his big rump next to his face.

  “You know, Clementine, one of these days you’re going to seriously hurt someone with that thing!” the annoyed goat winced at his fat friend.

  Clementine continued. “Okay, Squeak, how ‘bout I tell you the story of when I slayed the evil, monstrous, hungry boar who was about to eat us all—including King Benjamin!”

  “Pig, how many times do we have to go through this? It wasn’t you but me who mentioned you had a girl’s name.”

  Squeak’s head moved from goat to pig. “Y-you have a girl’s name, Clementine?”

  “Umm…” Clementine nervously tried to change the subject. “Hey, Squeak! How ‘bout you go find those chicks and I’ll tell you the story of how I got this scar on my back when Farangis bit me? That was something, let me tell ya! You see—”

  SPLASH!!! All three jumped up in surprise and whirled around to the pool. A few animals ran into the tunnel, yelping in fear. Everyone stared at the water, seeing nothing but ripples, when suddenly the face of an exhausted fox popped up, gasping for air. Squeak ran behind Clementine’s fatty backside. Clementine and Roscoe’s mouths hung open. They glanced at each other.

  The fox propped his skinny orange body onto the ledge of the pool and inhaled another huge breath. He examined the large cavern, noticing the sparkling blue reflections from the pool on the walls. He looked in awe at the throne of white limestone, shining in the crystal blue spring water. “So it is true!” The fox addressed the spectators in front of him, his wet fur dripping all over the floor. “Is this…is this the kingdom of King Pugsly?”

  The pig frowned. “Yes, but King Pugsly is dead.”

  “Dead? H-how? It didn’t kill him, did it?”

  Roscoe sighed. “Oh no, not this again. Okay, look, fox,” he began reciting. “Farangis killed our king, but we took care of him weeks ago. We now live in peace again. And we have a new king—a human boy named King Benjamin.”

  A small bird flew high above, near the hole in the ceiling. Its chirps echoed throughout the cavern, then it flew out. Squeak came out from behind Clementine. “What is this it you’re talking about?”

  The fox stared at the field mouse, licking his lips in hunger. As he moved to attack, Clementine pounced on his paws. Yelping, the fox looked up in pain at the snorting pig while Squeak again retreated behind his savior. “One thing you must know about our kingdom, fox, is that we don’t eat each other.”

  “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve been traveling for days without food looking for this place.”

  “We have vegetables stored away if you’re hungry,” Roscoe said, while the fox hid his disgust.

  “You’ve searched for days?” Clementine asked. “How did you find us? The full moon will soon be here. Why didn’t you just wait for the beacon?”

  “Because we can’t wait that long.” The fox took another deep breath, then looked up at the hole in the ceiling. “I was running in the pastures, thirsty and tired, when I came across this hole. I looked down and saw the sun reflecting off your pool. I was so thirsty. I didn’t care if I could get back out. I needed a drink!”

  Roscoe was confused. “You said ‘we couldn’t wait that long.’ Who’s ‘we’?”

  Squeak came forward and the fox smiled. “My apologies, little mouse. I didn’t mean to eat—uh, scare you.”

  “Fox!” Roscoe demanded. “Who…is…we?”

  The fox looked down and sighed. “About a thousand of us.” You could’ve heard one of Miss Nightingale’s peacock feathers drop, if she hadn’t been in the pasture.

  Roscoe tried to move his lips. “Th-th-th—”

  Clementine completed his thought. “Thousand?”

  The fox smiled wanly at their astonishment. “Yes, my friends. Give or take.”

  Roscoe was in shock. “Um…where are we going to put a th-th—”

  “Thousand,” Clementine finished.

  “Yeah, what he said. Where will they fit?!” The goat stared in disbelief.

  “Oh, come on, Roscoe,” Squeak piped in. “We can fit more in the cavern. This thing goes way back—”

  “Squeak!” Roscoe snapped. “Don’t you like have some, I don’t know, cats or hawks you can be playing with?”

  “They’re all out gathering food. And you’re the one who taught me not to work!” the mouse shrugged his shoulders in defense.

  “Okay, fine. Well, why don’t you go keep a lookout for King Benjamin then?” The fading light shone through the ceiling. “He’s a little later than usual. I hope he shows up soon.” Roscoe looked back at the fox as it scratched its ear with a hind paw. “…Real soon!” Clementine winked at the mouse, who scampered through the tunnel, and Roscoe continued with a sigh. “Alright. Before we go any further, I’m Roscoe and this is Clementine.”

  “Ma’am.” The fox bowed its head.

  “Okay, let’s just get this over with now! I’m a boy who just happens to have a girl’s name,” the pig squealed.

  “Oh. Nice to meet you. My name’s Felix.”

  “Ma’am.” Clementine tried to sound serious.

  “Felix is a boy’s name,” the fox snapped.

  “Well, Felix, I suggest we wait on our king to arrive before we discuss anything more about your…friends.”

  “Yes, absolutely.” Felix cleared his throat and checked a paw. They stood in awkward silence, looking around the cave. “So… you two aren’t out gathering food like the rest—”

  “Um, yeah, we’re heroes,” Roscoe blurted out. “So ya know, we don’t…really…uh, do that stuff.”

  “Oh.” The fox was amused.

  “Yeah, and I’m still waiting for them to carry me around everywhere!” Clementine snorted ridiculously l
oud. Roscoe rolled his eyes at the pig’s stupid comment.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Buzzards…”

  BENJAMIN KNEW HE’D BEEN DISRESPECTFUL to his mom. He felt guilty but couldn’t believe she gave away Pugsly’s collar. Why would an old lady want it? And what kind of dog is wearing it now? Benjamin dozed off several times but never looked at the clock to see how long he’d been in his room. Then he heard the front door open and his dad come in.

  “Honey, get out here! You’re not gonna believe this!” His dad’s shouting was muffled by the ceiling above. “Look at what just happened!”

  His mom’s footsteps ran quickly across the floor to the front room. “Omigosh!”

  Ignoring that he was in trouble, Benjamin raced upstairs. “Dad, what’s going on?” He did his best to pretend he didn’t see his mom, but she didn’t seem to notice as she stared out the window at her husband’s car windshield in the driveway. “Oh… whoaaaaa!” Benjamin’s face contorted in shock. It was like any other windshield, except it had hundreds of cracks running through it, along with blood stains…oh, and the giant back-end of a nasty buzzard sticking out of it.

  “How did it happen, Tom?” Carol asked.

  Tom’s hands slapped his hips, “Well, honey, how it always happens…a stupid buzzard flew into my windshield!”

  “Dad, where’d you hit it?” Benjamin asked, still stunned.

  “About a couple miles up the road. There’s a ton of ‘em flying around!”

  Benjamin’s mom turned to him. “Aren’t you supposed to be in trouble?”

  “Oh, no…because I…am talking to you…with respect!” He smiled and hoped he sounded sincere, and not as if he just made it up.

  “Apology accepted, Ben.” Her half-smile told him she saw past his sneakiness.

  “That’s some bird, huh?” Tom scratched his head. “I had to roll down my window and drive home the rest of the way with my head sticking out.”

  “Are you going to take it to the shop tonight?” Carol asked.

  “They closed at four. I may have to wait ‘til I get off work tomorrow.”

  Benjamin then remembered the kingdom and his dilemma with the collar. “I’m gonna go outside and play for a while, okay?”

  “Alright, but don’t be too long, I’ll have dinner ready soon.”

  He left the house, hopping off the cement front porch to examine his dad’s car. Black feathers were scattered all over the inside and its ugly bald head stared right at the driver’s seat. Benjamin frowned. “Buzzards…”

  THE SILVER-BLUE COLLAR GLEAMED in the sunlight as the little dog panted heavily in the dwindling heat of the late afternoon. Hoping for his master to come to the door, the thirsty dog kept scratching at the screen in hopes the old lady would hear him.

  “Hey, ugly!” The dog’s pink, sleep-filled eyes saw the old lady’s cat, a skinny Siamese with big blue eyes, standing on the open window sill above.

  “Oh, hey, Elizabeth,” the tired dog replied.

  “Is my sweet ol’ lady still making you stay outside?” the cat smiled deviously.

  “Yeah, I’m really getting sick of her. Actually, I’m really getting sick. Look at me, my hair is falling out and I can’t stop scratching. I itch all over!”

  The cat looked at the large patches of dirty, bare skin covering his skinny body. What little short hair he did have was matted with dry mud and black grease. His tail looked like it had been broken once, as it hung halfway between his short legs. “Yeah, you don’t look so good. Ugh, and keep those fleas, and who-knows-what-else, away from me!”

  “I want to leave this place so badly. I don’t know why I stay. It’s not like she treats me well. She’s mean to everyone—well, almost everyone.” He frowned at the smirking cat. His dog tag sparkled brilliantly, catching the cat’s attention.

  “Whoa! What is that?” She looked in amazement.

  “Oh, this.” The puny dog made a pathetic attempt at puffing out his chest. “This is my crown. I’m now a king, ya know!”

  The Siamese cat laughed uncontrollably. “You are pathetic, if I may say. I’m guessing that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever been given. Actually it’s probably the only thing you’ve ever been given!” The dog’s face saddened. The years hadn’t hardened him to the cat’s insults. “I will say that you do seem a little different. Like, perhaps you could be a king, but the collar makes me think that, not you!” The cat laughed in his face.

  “Just wait, Elizabeth. I am a king! And someday I’ll rule over this whole land!”

  “Ha! I’ve heard all that I can stand! Well, Your Majesty…” She turned and raised her tail high in the air. “Don’t freeze to death out there. Hopefully your servant will feed you sometime this week.”

  “Jonah! You get away from that door! I’m not letting you in!” the old lady yelled from inside the front room.

  “Good-bye, King Jonah!” the Siamese cat hopped down from the sill.

  “Oh, hello, my little Miss Elizabeth kitty! Yes, look at you!”

  The old lady cooing at that stinkin’ cat made Jonah want to throw up. He walked toward the shed to rest in the shade, only to look back and see Elizabeth arrogantly smile at him through the screen door. “Cats…”

  Jonah walked around the old lady’s white car, which people always mistook for a police car on the road. A large, dark shadow swooped across the ground in front of him. Looking up, he saw only the sun and a few long clouds growing together in the sky. He went to the side of the old shed and lay on the mossy ground that cooled his bare belly. His hairless patches felt good in the shade. But he didn’t have time to rest.

  “Hello, dog.” Jonah jumped up. A big, black buzzard towered over him, red eyes squinting. “You are a dog, aren’t you?” Jonah nodded. “Unlike any dog I have ever seen, and certainly not a king. You’re too dirty to be a king.” Then it spotted the collar with the eye-catching tag. Its neck jerked back in awe and it squawked loudly. Jonah jumped in fear. “Are you a king, little dog?”

  Jonah hoped the buzzard wouldn’t know if he was lying. “Y-yes, I am.”

  “And where is your kingdom, little dog?”

  “Um…” Jonah didn’t know what to say.

  “Jonah, where are you?! You’re in big trouble, mister!”

  The buzzard gave the dog a quick, evil grin and took off into the sky.

  The screen door slammed and footsteps clapped on the porch. Peeking around the corner of the shed, Jonah saw the old lady walk around the back of the house. He made a run for the creaky, wooden porch as fast as he could. Climbing the steps, he hopped into a hole in the porch, the secret spot he’d used to hide from her so many times before.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Meet King Benjamin

  BENJAMIN WALKED DOWN THE LONG DRIVEWAY. On his left a flock of mallard ducks swam near the cottonwood trees in the far corner of his pond. They quacked loudly and flapped their wings in greeting.

  “I can’t understand you!” He lifted his arm to show his bare wrist. No collar. He felt so helpless when he couldn’t understand the animals, much like when the crows stole the collar in Persly’s Woods. I hope I can still get in the fox den. He passed the mailbox and smiled at the mouse sitting on the pile of sticks at the open hole of the den.

  “Hey, Squeak! Boy, am I glad to see you out here.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ve been waiting for you for a while now. You see, we have a surprise visitor inside that sort of, uh…just dropped in on us.”

  Benjamin laughed. “Squeak, I don’t have my collar so I can’t understand you.”

  “Oh…” The mouse watched him point to his wrist, bare of the king’s collar. Then he followed the boy down the hole. Lightning bugs peppered the tunnel’s walls to guide him along, but he’d been through that passage so many times he could almost find his way in his sleep.

  “He can understand you?” Felix asked Clementine and Roscoe.

  “Yes, that’s right. He is unlike any other human you’ve ever m
et.” The pig heard steps and turned to see Benjamin and Squeak round the corner. The fox’s eyes lit up.

  “Hi, guys!” Benjamin waved.

  “Sire, we were hoping to see you today!”

  Benjamin only heard oinks of excitement. “Okay, well, guys,” he clapped his hands together, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but…I’ve lost my collar again.” Embarrassed, he bit his bottom lip and squinted.

  “Oh, crap!” Roscoe cried in frustration. Clementine sighed loudly.

  “Look, I know where it is, though. My mom gave it to some old lady’s dog. But, I-I’m gonna get it back, alright? I just don’t know how yet.” He could tell his news wasn’t what they wanted to hear. “I wanted to let you guys know that I won’t be able to talk to that pug tonight.”

  “King Benjamin, listen. There are a thousand others wanting to join our kingdom—”

  “He can’t understand you, Roscoe.”

  Benjamin laughed nervously at the odd conversation. “Uh, my mom’s waiting on me so I gotta go. I’ll get that collar back, I promise. Or should I say ‘baaaah baaaah, oink oink!’” He patted them on their heads. “Bye, Squeak.” They watched as he disappeared around the corner.

  “He’s awfully sure of himself, isn’t he?” Roscoe frowned.

  “I take it that was the King Benjamin who can understand you?” Felix snickered and shook his head in disbelief.

  The boy walked through the tunnel thinking of ideas. “Okay, I can go to church and meet this lady and start crying…no, too stupid, and I don’t wanna wait ’til Sunday. I could make Mom go to her house and get it, though she’s already not happy with me and doesn’t want me wearing it any more. I could—” Then it came to him. A sneaky, yet noble, idea. He hopped out of the den and ran up the driveway, smelling dinner as he neared the house. In the kitchen his mom was busy cooking spaghetti. He approached her and looked as remorseful as he could.

  “So…you’ve decided to treat me like your mother again?”