Chapter 11
Short, spasmodic breathing and gasping for air signified one thing; the coyote was tired. That was the good part. The bad part was that Molly didn’t know where, in the Valley of the Flowers, she could hide from the coyote. Yet, soon the coyote would run out of gas completely and then she would be able to take her time finding a hiding place. When will the coyote run out of gas completely was the question.
“You know of the red flower. Tell me, and I will stop chasing you.”
“I know of no red flower. I promise I don’t know. I didn’t even know this place existed.”
“I don’t believe you, cat! Anyone and everyone who is here know of this place. Now tell me where the red flower is.”
The coyote’s breathing got more labored. Molly could hear him panting the more they continue to run.
I have to keep him running. I have to find a place out of here and never come back here ever, ever again, Molly thought. Up ahead was a small grassy hill. The grass seemed to have been burnt by the sun. Above the hill were trees displaying hanging branches barren of leaves.
Maybe I can lose him through the trees and climb a tree, once I get far away from him.
“I’m going to catch you, cat. Mark my word,” the coyote said.
“Well, we will see about that, won’t we, color ball?” Molly yelled.
“No one talks about my colors, you cat nipper!”
Molly saw the small opening in the trees once she got over the hill. When it was closer, as close as she could get, Molly jumped for the gap between the trees that were lined up in some sort of order. Then it was the coyote’s turn. But instead of him running through the gap in the trees, he jumped like Molly did, and hit the tree.
“Ugh! That hurt!”
Molly turned and saw that the coyote was down on the ground. She laughed for a brief moment before she realized that she had to continue running if she wanted to escape the coyote once and for all.
“Come back here, you cat. Come back here and show me where that red flower is!”
Molly could hear him; his steps sounding miles away, when, in fact they were only some feet away. Maybe he really needs help. Maybe, if I go back, I could help him find the red flower. After all he doesn’t look at all like a bad coyote and he is an animal and not a human, so, in that case it is worth a try, isn’t it?
Although the question teased her mind, it didn’t give herself an answer, at least not verbally. She waited before she jumped into that head start which she would need to get away from the coyote. The coyote wasn’t just a multicolored, scraggly looking coyote; he was also a broad-shouldered animal that had a lot of trouble fitting through the trees that separated him from Molly.
“You know of this flower, don’t you? And you want to make my life harder than what it really is, don’t you, cat?”
The more the words “red flower” came out of the coyote’s mouth, the more Molly felt uncomfortable.
Molly than heard something from one of the trees begin to fall. She peered up first to see if she could see exactly what it was, then she returned her gaze to the coyote. When she saw that the coyote was attempting to push one of the trees down and the snarling anger on his face, Molly had her answer.
“No, you aggravating cat, you come back here. I say, come back here now!”
Molly was ahead of the coyote by at least a mile before he finally squeezed his way through the trees and was in search of Molly.
However, Molly soon realized that her surroundings were quite different from the Valley of the Flowers.
Where am I now? This is different from where I came from. It looks scary! Molly didn’t keep running. She stopped to look around her. Thickets, dead grass, weeds, fallen bark, trees slumped over like a man in his old age. This was confusing just as much as finding the Valley of the Flowers. Then in an instant all of it was gone.
Behind Molly’s eyeballs she could feel it coming just like the splash that she would sense when she jumped off the diving board and into the pool. Staying there, crying, wasn’t an option. I have to keep going, I don’t know where I’m going, but I just want to be out of here. I just want to be in a home again, not out here.
Molly took her own advice and put her legs in gear. The scenery didn’t change, but neither did the ground under her paws. She became really heavy, so heavy that Molly could put holes in the ground as big as her body with every step she took. The ground came up just as her feet came up from the ground. Molly noticed that the hair on her back was getting longer and getting thicker around her legs.
“Oh no, help! Help, someone. Help me!” she called out and in a panic, she stopped to look at the world instead of the ground under her feet. Molly felt her heart drop in her chest at the same time as she saw her hind legs drop beneath the broken ground. Scared half to death but not giving into her fear, Molly started to run again. Up ahead she heard something, something that drew a smile on her face. “Water, I hear it. I hear the fish swimming. I have to get there. Water. Come on, move it, Molly,” she yelled to herself but as she gained on it and was seconds from launching into the water, everything from under Molly came apart. She began to fall.
As if the yells for help were his solution or as if that was a reaction animals have just like humans do when they are in trouble, the woodchuck’s pleas of distress weren’t going to be his safeguard, not when two birds were flying his way from across the street and two shop patrons were right in the back of him waiting to pounce on the woodchuck.
“Hey, it’s that little runt of a rat,” one of the patrons yelled.
There was space, more space than the woodchuck needed, to get away from the two bat-toting varmints, but he wasn’t at all sure about the two air adversaries that were aiming at the woodchuck at full speed.
“Come here, you little runt!” One of the patrons ran and grabbed at the woodchuck as if he was going to scoop him up off the ground.
It seemed like a good idea for the two patrons, since with this maneuver they would finally have their rat and possibly the both of them could become the town’s heroes, if they presented him to the group of Louis and the Woodchuck haters, or just call the local paper and let it be known that the city’s nuisance (one of them at least) had been caught unless they fell for the false reward Edna was offering. But none of that would happen, at least for the two patrons anyway, because right when it seemed as though one of the patrons had the woodchuck in his grip, the second one swung his metal bat up to meet the first man’s head as the woodchuck jumped up.
“Darn it, Willie, can’t you look what you’re doing? Do I look like a rat to you?”
“Well, if you wasn’t in my way, James, I could have hit him!”
“He is getting away! Don’t let him get away, Willie!” James yelled, holding his forehead.
Oh, no I can’t go that way, I’m leading myself right into more enemy territory, the woodchuck thought. He didn’t have a choice and with trees ahead of him, the woodchuck had a slight edge.
“Get him. Don’t let that rat get away!” James shouted.
Then, when he saw the woodchuck make some headway, Willie pulled what look to be a marble out of his pocket and threw it at the woodchuck. It connected with his right side immediately and knocked the woodchuck into the bushes right in front of the field leading to where he had all of his and Louis’s food stored.
“Get him!” James yelled. The woodchuck turned to the two klutzes as they bumped into each other in an attempt to grab the woodchuck. Weak but still energetic, the woodchuck made his move. He wasn’t sure what to do first. All he knew was he had to make some type of move, especially when he saw the two Hawks fly his way.
The woodchuck ran up one of James’s pant legs while the Hawks flew past James and Willie’s head.
“Awh, now that rat is in my pants, he is in my pants!”
“I see him, James. Hold still and I will be able to get him out of your pants,” Willie shouted.
James was ho
pping all about and slapping at the places where he saw the woodchuck’s shape inside his pants. Willie took a grip of James’s shoulder and with one hard swing he slapped his thigh where he saw the woodchuck.
“Awhhh, Willie! You hit my leg. Can’t you do anything right?”
The woodchuck moved up James’s thigh. Luckily he wasn’t wearing a belt and his t-shirt and sweat shirt were hanging over his waist. Instead of jumping out, the woodchuck ran up James’s fat stomach and up to his hairy chest. He peeked out the top of his shirt.
Over ecstatic James began to run and swiped at the woodchuck every time he would pop his head up out of James’s shirt.
“Someone get that rat. Get that rat out of my shirt!”
All of James’s yelling and he and Willie running around like they were crazed men drew the attention of a few people who were buying Stun Duh pens. Willie swiped at the woodchuck. Of course, he missed and smacked James’s right cheek. With the two men swiping at nothing but air, the woodchuck jumped out of James’s shirt and without even knowing it, he ran toward the crowd of people.
“It’s that rat! Get that rat!” people began to yell. Then out of control the crowd of patrons began to shoot their Stun Duh at the woodchuck. The woodchuck looked back, obviously frightened.
“I have to get out of here,” he shouted. He had lost the two patrons and he didn’t see the Hawks overhead. He was far ahead of the patrons with the Stun Duh and there was a tree close by, which he would climb, jump off and head to his home.
Yes, yes, I am home free, the woodchuck thought. Then, all of a sudden, he felt his body snatched up off the ground and taken up in the air, way up in the air, so far up it scared the woodchuck.
He didn’t have to wonder long what was going on or who was behind all of this. One of the Louis and Woodchuck haters yelled out: “Oh my God, that bird got the rat get them!”
“Wait a second, I know who you are,” the woodchuck shouted. “What are you doing to me? I have, I have a friend who knows I’m gone and if I’m not back, he is going to start looking for me. I made a truce with the foxes and I thought you all were part of that truce, too.”
“I don’t recall you making one with us personally, do you, Worm?” Hawk asked his companion.
“No, I don’t, Hawk!”
“Wait, wait! What are you saying? You are going to eat meat after all?”
The two birds laughed. Hawk held the woodchuck by his thick shoulders and made a sudden U-turn in the air.
“I see that’s how it is. You’re going to wait till my friend is gone and then you’re going to steal me away as if I’m some…, some…, some property that you can just take from someone. Well, you’re wrong, so if you’re going to eat me… Well, do it….
The woodchuck paused to focus on the familiar trees, the scents of sour cream and onions potato chips, and the open field with the woodchuck’s holes in them. “Hey, hey that’s my home below, that’s my home!” the woodchuck shouted.
“Yes, of course it’s your home, Woodchuck,” Hawk said. From a distance the crowd could see the birds and the groundhog but once they flew over the highest trees, the angry patrons lost sight of the three of them.
When he was coming close to the woodchuck’s home, Hawk began to swoop down toward the field.
“This is my home. Why don’t you just let me go for goodness sake?” the woodchuck yelled. And that’s what Hawk did. When the woodchuck reached up in an attempt to release himself, Hawk dropped him from about ten feet in the air.
“To be honest I’m not sure in whose hands I’m better off; in those crazy humans out there who want to taze me to death, or with you two predators who want to eat me. Geez, can’t I get a break? And what’s this all about anyway? You want to eat me here or something? If you are, you should have eaten me when you had me in the air. Now you’re going to have to fight for your meal. Come on!” the woodchuck shouted, grabbing his scarf. Then with balled fists, he rotated around as if to say: “If you come near me, I’m going to punch the both of you out.”
But Hawk and Worm look at each other, dumbfounded and without anymore sense than the muddy rock on which the woodchuck stood.
“I wasn’t going to eat you. Were you, Worm?” Hawk asked.
“Well, to be honest with the both of you, ugh… A piece of you maybe, ugh…, but all of you na, too much rat meat is too much grease on my stomach. And, hum, that’s not good for my body!”
The woodchuck dropped his fists, gave Worm more than a brief look. He was agape, eyes wide, and turned his entire body away from the two birds.
“You have to excuse Worm. He slept on the wrong side of the nest last night. He is a little senile. Then he hasn’t had his brunch, so that all plays a part in what he just said, Woodchuck, okay?”
The woodchuck turned back to the two birds and said, “So I guess I was going to be his brunch, right?”
“Ugh…, yes,” Worm replied at the same time Hawk said “no”.
“Look, to be honest since it seems like Worm is being very honest, I don’t like either of you. I didn’t like the way you all were flying over me and Louis’s head when we were leaving the Foxhole. You were up to something then and you are up to something now. The only reason you didn’t try anything then is because Louis was with me, and he would have ripped the both of you apart just like I would do!” the woodchuck snarled, his fists balled up while he walked and directed his attention to Worm.
Worm quickly got behind Hawk. “Ugh, let me at um, ugh let me at um!”
“Worm here is a little beside himself, aren’t you, Worm?”
He didn’t answer.
“Speaking of your friend, he isn’t here, is he?” Hawk asked.
The woodchuck wanted to lie and since he didn’t have any idea why they were there and how they found him, he believed it best to lie instead of telling the truth and risk being part of Hawk and Worm’s plan, whatever plan that was.
“Umm… Well…”
While the woodchuck was still figuring out how to lie truthfully, Hawk was on to him and he wasn’t about to play anymore games with him.
“He’s gone and he’s been gone for a day now. Honesty is the best policy, right, Woodchuck?”
“Of course it is. Don’t try and patronize me, bird,” the woodchuck yelled. Patronize, wow I like that. I might have to use that one more often, the woodchuck thought.
“I’m not trying to belittle you, Woodchuck. I was asking you to be honest with me!”
“Ugh, I think you were trying to belittle him, Hawk. He was trying to belittle you, rat. But he was trying to do it like ugh… you know like ugh… sneaky!” Worm said.
“Well, at least someone agrees with what I said, Hawk, and for the hundred, million, trillion, zillion time, I’m not a rat. I am a woodchuck! Get that through your little bitty mind, Worm, okay?” the woodchuck yelled. “And since we are being honest and since that is the name of the game here, yes, Louis is gone. Now there you go, you have it, honesty!”
“Since we’re still on this honesty thing, I have another for you. Since I hate the both of you, now just go, go, get out of here!”
“Ugh…, is he mad, Hawk?” Worm said.
But Hawk didn’t answer. He glared at the woodchuck.
“Let me guess this is the part where one or both of you threaten to eat me? Well, go ahead. I have lost everything, so why not? Go ahead, eat me, if you so desire!” the woodchuck said, turning his back to the birds. He walked toward the entrance of his hole.
“We didn’t come here to eat you, Woodchuck!”
“Ugh, speak for yourself, Hawk!” Worm said in a whisper, only loud enough for Hawk to hear him.
“We came here to tell you about your friend…”
“Yeah, what about him?” the woodchuck asked.
“He is in trouble. He has been caught by some lady that has posted flyers across town. She claims to be his owner. I saw him hauled off on the back of a truck with bars on it. Then I saw t
hat woman taze him with that same device those humans have out there.”
The woodchuck’s lips quivered as he stopped to hear Hawk’s words. Then he thought before he spoke, so I guess that home deal didn’t work out for you after all, did it Louis?
“So what were you all doing following him?” The woodchuck still had not turned to the two birds.
“Ugh, I guess you can say that, Woodchuck!” Worm said.
“We are birds, Woodchuck. We just don’t sit in one place and fan ourselves with our wings, you know. We have places to go, things to see.”
“And things to eat,” Worm added.
“This here is one of the places where we found something. And when you guys set up shop here, we didn’t want to bother you about this field. You found it, groomed it, and made it you all home,” Hawk said.
“My patience is getting low, so can you get on with this please?” the woodchuck said, holding his position at his hole.
“Yes, we followed him once we saw him walk off. We wanted to know what was going on and what caused him to walk away.”
“Well, I’m sure if your hearing is the same as the desire to eat woodchucks, I’m sure you heard every word. I don’t have to repeat myself,” the woodchuck retorted.
“I thought since the two of you are good friends, the right thing to do was to tell you. I’m sure if I was in trouble, Worm here would want to know. Wouldn’t you, Worm?”
“Ugh, to be honest probably not, less headache, and I wouldn’t have to share my food with anyone,” Worm replied.
Hawk’s elongated, colorful beak smiled.
Then, as if it was never going to happen, the woodchuck turned from his muddy little hole. “Thanks for telling me,” he replied, attempting once again to turn back to his hole and, hopefully, this time walk in it.
“Is that all?” Hawk asked.
“Oh yeah, I think there is something else. I almost forgot. Next time you see the furry overgrown dog, you make it clear to him that I’m glad everything worked out for him in finding his home,” the woodchuck said. “Now if the two of you would excuse me, I have some rest I have to catch up on. Between you two and those exacerbating people out there, I missed out on my rest. So have a good day!” Exacerbating. I think I like the word.
If he thought because he was confined to the inside of a steel building, Louis’s life would be any better, it wasn’t. I might as well be outside. It’s so cold in here. It’s no different from the outside, Louis thought. For him this new circumstance was nothing new. For most of the three years he lived in captivity, he lived outside. Given that he was mentally trained to sustain these conditions and since he had fur the thickness of five winter coats, he would adapt well to the cold of his steel prison.
While getting as much rest as he could before Edna got back, cold wasn’t the only thing that floated around his head. He thought about the Woodchuck and what he was doing. I hope he is making it out there on his own. He is a loner. He has always been on his own. So, I can almost bet that he is in a better position than I am.
Louis tried to convince himself that the separation from the woodchuck was a positive thing. The outcome of the separation was as it should; he is looking for a home. And the woodchuck is a loner. “So I was wrong for wanting a home instead of living from pillar to post as the humans call it? Was it a bad idea, because the humans that I tried to give myself to didn’t feel the same way I felt?” Louis yelled.
In the mirror of his mind he tried very hard to make sense of what all of this meant. Was it really his fault that he was caught by the infamous Edna after being freed by the woodchuck, or were things just happening because of some bigger plan? He knew of no bigger plan, except finding a home – a loving home. To Louis that was part of life just as breathing is life.
I’m just a dog. I’m an animal and ultimately we have no voice. That’s how creation is. We do as the human say, and if we don’t, we wind up here, locked away on a chain in the cold. Louis remembered those words from last winter when Edna had been determined Louis wasn’t going to stay in the house with her and her husband. He was going to be a thing outside on which she could take out her anger and frustration when she had a bad day.
I would say I’m fighting a losing battle. All of us, every last pet in the entire universe, are fighting a losing battle. Only if the one who loves us and care for us just as they do for each other, then maybe, just maybe, we could rid this world of all the hate and hurt that the bad people want to inflict on all the pets in the world, Louis thought.
“I can say being in here today made me think,” Louis told himself. “The Woodchuck wasn’t half bad. I really like that guy. If I could do it all over again, maybe I would have, maybe I could or should have stayed there with him a little while longer, but I didn’t. My decision was my decision, so I will live with it.”
Louis wasn’t one who mourned his bad situation with the spilling of tears and he wasn’t going to start. But right there, in his cell, as he held back those burning tears, Louis found out that the heart is stronger than the mind. Again he didn’t have a say in the matter of heart versus mind. He was hurt. He was not mourning his situation, but he was hurt by his situation.
Louis, Molly & the Woodchuck Page 11