Armadillo and Hare

by Jeremy Strong

  Jaguar was astonished. She craned her neck and gazed up the stairs. ‘How did you manage to get an elephant up there?’

  ‘Oh, it’s extraordinary what removal men can do these days. Pianos, giant wardrobes, elephants – it’s easy for them.’ Armadillo smiled brightly. ‘Let me get you that sandwich.’

  He hurried off to the kitchen. He made the sandwich as quickly as he could.

  ‘One cheese sandwich, no pickle,’ said Armadillo, returning to the front door.

  Jaguar sat up. She ate the sandwich in one go. ‘Chewy,’ she complained. ‘And that yellow meat was definitely very odd.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s an acquired taste,’ suggested Armadillo.

  ‘I don’t even know what that means,’ Jaguar told him. She cleaned her teeth with a fresh blade of grass. ‘Minuscule? Acquired? Long words give me a headache.’

  Armadillo fell silent. Jaguar slowly got to her feet. She stretched and slouched off. Armadillo watched her as she slowly padded all the way back to the forest, and then the trees swallowed her up.

  ‘So beautiful,’ murmured Armadillo, shaking his head. ‘And so dangerous.’

  The next day, Armadillo and Hare sat on the bench by the front door. They were watching the sunlight filter through the leaves. It made patterns on the meadow beside the forest.

  ‘It’s a shame about Jaguar,’ said Hare. ‘I would have liked to have met her. We might have been friends.’

  Armadillo grunted. ‘I know. It’s good to make friends, but sometimes it’s difficult.’ He patted Hare’s paw. ‘I was afraid Jaguar would eat you.’ Armadillo watched a single leaf slowly twirl down, down and round. At last it settled on the grass in a patch of sunlight. ‘We can’t be friends with everybody,’ he added.

  The pair gazed out through the quiet trees.

  ‘You’re right,’ sighed Hare after a while. ‘We can’t be friends with everybody. Not when they have such sharp teeth. You know, Armadillo, you can be quite wise sometimes.’

  Armadillo gave a quiet chuckle. ‘Sometimes is better than none-times. Anyhow, I don’t think Jaguar liked my sandwich. That was a waste of a good bit of cheese. Still, at least I hadn’t put any pickle on it. I do like pickle.’

  There was a sunlit silence.

  A smile drifted across Armadillo’s wrinkled face. ‘You know, Hare, it might have been all right if Jaguar’s teeth had been made of rubber.’

  ‘Oh, I like that!’ laughed Hare. He leaned back against the bench and let the warm sun play upon his ears.

  ‘What an exquisite creature Jaguar is,’ murmured Armadillo dreamily. ‘Such elegant beauty.’ Then he frowned. ‘Mind you, she might well be one of the most beautiful creatures in the forest, but she has no manners, Hare. None. That cheese sandwich I made especially for her – she didn’t even say “thank you”. No Manners At All!’

  But Armadillo’s words fell on deaf ears. Hare had fallen asleep in the sun.

  The Storm

  The wind had spent all day blowing things every which way. Leaves and bits of twig whirled through the air before being hurled to the ground, scattering around the meadow. Almost all the animals stayed indoors or looked for shelter somewhere.

  Hare wanted to go for a run, but the moment he went outside the wind caught his scarf and whisked it away. He managed to grab hold of it just as the wind tried to toss it high into a tree. Hare hurried back inside and shut the door.

  ‘I thought the wind would blow my head off,’ he told Armadillo.

  ‘It’s certainly blustery,’ Armadillo answered. He gazed out of the window and considered the gloomy sky and heavy clouds. ‘I think there might be a storm on the way.’

  ‘Oh.’ Hare’s face paled.

  Armadillo patted his friend on the back. He knew Hare didn’t like storms. Thunder was noisy. Lightning was flashy. It was all far too surprising. Storms made Hare jump and did strange things to his long ears.

  By the time they went to bed, the wind was even stronger. Hare tried to settle down to sleep in his room, but his window rattled and banged. The gale howled around the corners of the little log cabin and scratched wildly at the roof. On top of that he could hear Armadillo snoring next door. He thought about playing his tuba so he couldn’t hear the gale. But then he might wake Armadillo, so he didn’t.

  The first flash of lightning had Hare sitting straight up in bed. His fur was on end and his ears twisted together in a frantic spiral. A few moments later the first thunderclap sent his ears spiralling together in the opposite direction. Hare dived beneath his duvet.

  Even Armadillo opened his eyes and tutted to himself. ‘Hare won’t like this,’ he told himself, and he sat up, pushed his feet into his old red slippers and went to the next-door bedroom.

  All that could be seen of Hare was a shivering, quivering hump in the middle of the bed. Armadillo put one quiet paw on the hump.

  ‘Come on,’ he said to Hare. ‘We’ll share the storm between us. Then it won’t be so bad.’

  So Armadillo made them both some chamomile tea. He took it upstairs and they climbed into Armadillo’s big bed. Armadillo was quite heavy. The mattress went almost down to the ground on his side, pushing Hare almost up to the ceiling on his side.

  Now they watched the storm, with its frantic display of lightning and sudden noises. Armadillo felt it was always better to actually see what was making so much fuss.

  ‘It’s like being at the theatre, Hare. I do think it’s wonderful. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?’

  No. Hare didn’t. He was far too scared to see any beauty in it at all. He jumped every time there was a bang. Even so, he was glad Armadillo was so brave, and when a sudden extra-flashy double lightning bolt sent Hare’s ears scrabbling wildly into a knot it was Armadillo who untied them.

  ‘Did you know,’ Armadillo began, ‘that if you count the seconds from the flash to the bang you can work out how far away the storm is?’

  ‘No. I didn’t know that,’ said Hare, nervously holding on to both his ears, just in case.

  ‘You divide the number of seconds by five, and that’s how many miles away it is. Let’s wait for a lightning strike and we’ll count together.’

  There was a flash. ‘One, two, three …’ began Armadillo. ‘Eight, nine, ten …’ BANG!

  ‘Ten seconds,’ Armadillo declared. ‘That means the storm is two miles away.’

  Hare was relieved. Two miles seemed quite a long way off for something that made so much noise. They waited until the next flash. Fifteen seconds later, thunder shook the ink-black sky once again.

  ‘Now the storm is three miles away,’ observed Armadillo. ‘That means it’s going.’

  ‘Good,’ said Hare, and Armadillo noticed that Hare’s ears were a bit woozy and had collapsed on to his shoulders.

  The storm drifted off and both animals fell asleep.

  In the morning, it was Hare who woke first. Sunlight was streaming into the room. What a difference! His heart lifted and so did his ears. Hare decided it was just the morning for a run. He left Armadillo sleeping and went to his own room to change. The first thing he did was pull back the curtains.

  Oh! A big face was staring at him through the glass. It was Elephant. Hare opened the window. ‘Hello! What are you doing here, Elephant?’

  ‘Oh my! I’ve had such a night! Phoowee! The wind howled. Bang-crash! Trees falling down. Branches whipping about. Leaves all over the place. Sheeesh! I thought I had better go to an open space where nothing could fall on me. So I came to the meadow. Then, when the sun came up I saw this lovely log cabin. I said to myself, “Who lives here?” I was just taking a peek when you peeked back, Hare. Is this your bedroom? Phoowee! It’s fantastical!’

  Hare was rather proud of his room. He asked Elephant if he’d like to look inside. Elephant thought that would be splendid. He just managed to push his big head through the open window. He waved his trunk around with enormous excitement.

  ‘Phoowee! It’s beautiful, Hare. You’ve got a bed and a chair and
a chest of drawers and a wardrobe and a mirror and a carpet and a painting of – pinch my eyes! – a cheese sandwich. And some flowers and a dressing gown and a—’

  ‘Yes, everything I need,’ interrupted Hare. He was afraid Elephant would never stop. ‘Armadillo painted the picture,’ he said. ‘He mostly paints cheese sandwiches.’

  ‘It’s lovely,’ said Elephant. ‘Strange, but lovely. Is Armadillo’s room the same?’

  ‘His is bigger,’ Hare told him.

  ‘Even bigger? Oh my! I must see that,’ said Elephant. He pulled his head back. At least, he tried – but he couldn’t because his big ears jammed against the window frame. There was no way he could extract himself.

  ‘Maybe if I give a really big tug …’ suggested Elephant, and he did. There was an enormous crack and a creak and a squeak, and at last Elephant’s head popped out. Unfortunately, so did the window frame. In fact, the frame was now firmly stuck round Elephant’s neck.

  ‘Oh my!’ murmured Elephant.

  Armadillo had been woken by the dreadful noise and he hurried into Hare’s room.

  ‘I thought I heard a— Oh! Elephant! Hmm. You seem to have Hare’s window stuck round your neck.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Elephant, a trifle embarrassed. ‘I noticed that too. Sorry.’

  Hare looked anxiously at Armadillo. He wondered if Armadillo would be cross.

  Armadillo folded his front paws across his chest. ‘Well, I have to say you’ve saved us a lot of bother, Elephant. I have wanted to change that window and get a new one for quite a while. It rattles in the wind. It leaks and lets the rain in. It was doing exactly that in the storm we’ve just had. Now Hare can have a new window.’

  ‘What about the old one?’ asked Elephant. He carefully touched the dangling window frame with his trunk.

  ‘Oh, you can keep that,’ said Armadillo dismissively.

  ‘But how will I get it off?’ Elephant asked.

  Hare looked at Armadillo and was sure there was a twinkle in his friend’s eyes.

  Armadillo shrugged. ‘I have no idea, Elephant. You put it on, so you can take it off. Perhaps it will remind you not to stick your big head into small spaces.’

  ‘Phoowee,’ murmured Elephant. He turned away and wandered back into the forest.

  As the big beast disappeared from sight, Hare turned to Armadillo.

  ‘I don’t think Elephant has any idea of just how big he really is.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ said Armadillo, and he began to chuckle. ‘It’s extraordinary really. Ha ha! Elephant has caused far more damage than the thunderstorm!’

  Armadillo chuckled again, and soon the two friends had to cling to each other as they doubled up with laughter.

  Nobody’s Birthday Party

  It was nobody’s birthday, which was disappointing. Usually, if there was a birthday to celebrate there would be a party. Tortoise liked parties. His life was rather predictable and slow – his slowness being what was also predictable. No parties meant no excitement, so Tortoise had called a meeting to discuss the problem, and most of the forest animals were there.

  ‘It’s nobody’s birthday,’ Tortoise told everyone. ‘But we could still have a party. It can be a party for nobody.’

  Tortoise’s announcement was greeted with cheers and laughter, but Lobster could see a problem.

  ‘You can’t have a party for nobody,’ she declared. ‘Nobody will come.’

  ‘Au contraire,’ said Tortoise (who had a French mother, Madame Tortue). ‘Everybody will come because everybody will be invited.’

  Lobster folded her claws with a faint clack. ‘If everybody comes it won’t be for nobody,’ she pointed out crisply.

  Armadillo nudged Hare. ‘I used to like Lobster,’ he murmured. ‘But I’m going off her now.’

  ‘No, no. I think Lobster has a point.’ Hare smoothed back his ears and let them ping straight back up.

  ‘Maybe she has, but her point misses the point.’ Armadillo shook his head. ‘If you understand me.’ He wasn’t sure if he understood himself. He scratched his long nose with both front paws. It always seemed to go wrinkly when he was confused. ‘The other point being that it is nobody’s birthday.’

  Hare considered this. ‘I thought that was the point.’

  Armadillo took a deep breath and sighed. Then he asked loudly, ‘Is there going to be a party, or not?’

  The forest animals decided there would be a party. Not only that, but there would be food and dancing.

  When they got home Hare noticed a change in Armadillo. He couldn’t stop muttering to himself and he was unable to settle at anything.

  ‘Dancing! Hrrrrmph! Dancing! Pffff!’

  Hare couldn’t stand it any longer. ‘Whatever is the matter?’

  Armadillo shook his head. He gazed at his feet as if they had committed a terrible crime. ‘It’s the dancing,’ he said at last. ‘I’m simply not very good at it. It’s all right for you, Hare. You’re a frisky fellow, but I’m not the right shape. There, I’ve said it. Now you know, and I feel stupid.’

  Hare smiled and took Armadillo by the shoulders. ‘Don’t worry. Dancing is easier than you think. I’ll teach you.’

  He put some music on.

  ‘Just do what I do,’ said Hare cheerfully. He was a good dancer. He moved in time to the music, which is a good thing if you’re dancing.

  Armadillo tried to follow. He bumped into an armchair. He fell across it and rolled on to the floor.

  ‘Interesting move,’ said Hare cheerfully. ‘Let’s try again.’

  They tried again, and again. Somehow Armadillo hit the furniture every time. Hare moved all the furniture out of the room. Armadillo lurched into Hare instead. They both fell over. Hare got to his feet. He straightened up his crumpled ears. His cheerfulness was badly bruised. So were his elbows, shoulder and tail.

  ‘You know,’ said Hare, helping his friend to his feet, ‘you are wise and kind and lots of good things. But you really can’t dance.’

  Armadillo grunted. ‘I had better stay at home then while you go to the party.’

  ‘Stop being so grumpy. We shall go to the party together,’ said Hare. ‘We shall sit down. You can eat cheese sandwiches and we shall watch the dancing.’

  So Armadillo and Hare got ready for Nobody’s birthday party. Hare looked dashing in his best scarf and had decided to take his tuba. Armadillo wore sunglasses and a black leather jacket. He had wanted to wear his cardigan.

  ‘I am not going to anyone’s birthday party with you in your cardigan,’ Hare had said firmly.

  ‘I am not going to Anyone’s birthday party,’ argued Armadillo. ‘It’s Nobody’s birthday party.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ said Hare rather crossly. But chuckles bubbled up inside him like champagne. Soon they had to hold each other up in case the laughter knocked them right over.

  They arrived at the party in a very good mood. This was made even better when they found the beach and edge of the forest festooned with little coloured lights, which turned out to be the fireflies and glow-worms from all around.

  The band started up and everyone sang ‘Happy Birthday to Nobody’. Lots of animals danced. But Hare kept his promise. He sat down with Armadillo and they watched the dancing. Armadillo could see Hare’s feet twitching in time to the music. He was about to tell Hare to join in when Lobster approached them both.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d come, Lobster,’ muttered Armadillo.

  ‘Oh, I can’t miss any dancing. I love to dance. So, Armadillo, will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you dance with me?’

  Armadillo was instantly alarmed. But Armadillo was also polite and he didn’t know how to refuse. He began to get to his feet, but Hare pulled him back.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lobster. Armadillo isn’t allowed to dance. Doctor’s orders. He has a very bad knee. In fact,’ Hare added, ‘he has four bad knees. One on each leg.’

  Lobster looked disappointed. ‘I’m sorry,’ said Armadillo, secretly relieved.


  ‘Maybe I could dance with you?’ Hare smiled at Lobster.

  But Lobster’s face suddenly lit up. She was staring over Hare’s shoulder with delight.

  ‘Oh!’ she gasped. ‘There’s Giraffe! I must dance with him! He has such wonderfully long elegant legs. Don’t you think?’

  Armadillo turned and squinted. ‘Lovely legs,’ he agreed. ‘But there are too many of them.’

  Lobster was puzzled. ‘He only has four legs.’

  Armadillo seemed surprised. ‘Four? It always looks to me as if he’s got at least fifteen.’

  Lobster’s alarmed eyes glanced at Hare for reassurance.

  ‘Armadillo is joking,’ Hare explained.

  ‘Oh! Ha ha. Of course.’ Lobster hurried off to dance with Giraffe. She didn’t speak to Armadillo or Hare for the rest of the evening.

  Armadillo turned to his friend. ‘Thank you for saving me from making a fool of myself on the dance floor.’

  Hare smiled. ‘Oh, I didn’t just save you, old friend. I saved everyone. You would have caused chaos!’ But Hare’s long legs couldn’t stop twitching. ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t keep still any longer. I must do something. I think I shall join the band for a number or two.’

  ‘Yes,’ nodded Armadillo. ‘Do go and play.’

  So Hare joined the band and he played so beautifully that his tuba soon filled the air with cupcakes and lollies, candle-lit balloons that rose high in the night sky, rainbows and glitter that rained gently down upon the dancers. When he finished all the animals clapped. Hare took a bow and his ears made a deep bow of their own.