by Adam Kline
As the potbellies danced and the fireflies shone and the truffles cozied up in the coals, Gordon and Kadogo stared out at the great black sea, which sparkled beneath the moon. And as they sat and pondered, and discussed the mysteries of Hat, they wondered what had become of lucky Leek and brave Morel. But before they could agree on the fate of the rabbits and their mouse, a voice came gurgling from the water.
“I say,” said the sea monster, “is this a truffle roast?”
“It is indeed!” said King Kadogo. “And you are most welcome to join us, should the truffle herd prove willing!”
“Why, I’d be delighted to eat something, anything in fact,” said the fish, “so long as it isn’t neeps.”
The other rabbits had all returned to their various humans. It wasn’t long before only Leek, Morel, and Hamlin trailed Cecil through the meadows as he made his way back home to his cottage on the hill. Leek knew that soon enough the fellowship of three would sunder and only he would remain. Morel had her girl to consider, and she could not tarry long—such was her duty. Leek could hardly object.
“I know, Morel,” said he, “that soon our paths must part, and that you must seek your girl.”
“She lies ahead,” replied Morel, “and indeed, to give her luck will make me glad. She waits for me in a village, where she lives in a fourth-floor flat.”
“Now wait just a moment,” said Leek, hope rising in his heart. “I don’t suppose your girl likes watermelon chewing gum?”
“She does indeed,” said Morel, raising an eyebrow in question. “Oft have I dreamed of her sitting near the balcony. And always have I known that as she pined for brighter days and happy twists of fate, she would no doubt chew her gum as she awaited my return.”
“Well,” said Leek, “now isn’t that lucky!”
So it was that the rabbits returned to the village of their youth, and watched with shining eyes as Cecil made a friend. This friend had, long ago, tossed gum in Cecil’s hair. Still, she couldn’t help but admire the cut of Cecil’s jib (which is a five-dollar way of saying she liked him), and in future days, it would make the rabbits happy to follow, paw in paw, as their humans strolled together, hand in hand. The only casualty of the romance, so far as anyone could tell, was that the girl was forced to abandon watermelon chewing gum, given that it made Cecil sneeze. She now chews grape exclusively.
At the end of their long journey, which came welcome to all concerned, the rabbits’ time to rest arrived at last. But before they took to bed, Hamlin said farewell.
“My friends, dear rabbits.” He sighed as he shouldered his flute. “A wandering minstrel wanders. The great road beckons even as we speak. I have new songs to play.”
“May the road prove ever kind to one so fine as you,” said Morel, and kissed his forehead lightly. “Let every ear rejoice at the coming of fair Hamlin, minstrel, warrior, and friend.”
“And do wander back this way sometime,” added Leek. “You can’t miss my hole. It’s just left of the bok choy.”
“I will indeed,” said Hamlin, “for even one who wanders must have a place called home. And if I may be bold, I might say that home is here.”
“Why, I’ll make up the guest room straightaway,” said Leek, smiling, “with fresh sheets, towels, and all.”
“We have an accord,” said Hamlin as he strode into the night. “Fare thee well, great givers of luck, until we meet again.”
Leek and Morel watched him go and crest the rise of a hill. Hamlin turned to wave, just once, and with that, the mouse was gone. Leek sighed, but not in sadness, and turned to the she-rabbit pressed close against his side.
“Well,” said Leek, “what do we do now?”
Morel took Leek’s small paw. And leading him toward the garden, to the hole where they would live, she leaned in close, in a way that made his whiskers twitch, and whispered.
“Multiply.”
Acknowledgments
Infinite gratitude to my editor, David Linker, a man of grace and candor. Heartfelt thanks to Russell Binder, Darren Trattner, Keya Khayatian, and Julia Sachs, who deftly handle all the grown-up stuff I find so confusing. I owe untold pints at the Phoenix to my coconspirator, Brian Taylor, whose imagination far surpasses mine. Cedric Nicolas-Troyan gets an epic bear hug for teaching me the value of an unsolicited note. And Mark Osborne and Jinko Gotoh, you’re the wiser, elder siblings I’ve always wanted. For what it’s worth, I am your brother.
As for Vaughn Eugene Wascovich, the Chicago and Indiana contingents, and my extended Kenyon family, you guys prove the truth of this mythology. Because however unlucky I’ve felt in my life, my rabbit’s always countered with magical friends.
—AK
About the Author and Illustrator
ADAM KLINE is an author and screenwriter based in the American Midwest. His lucky rabbit is based in the garden, just left of the kale.
BRIAN TAYLOR is an artist and illustrator who lives and draws in Scotland. Brian does not wear hats.
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Copyright
ESCAPE FROM HAT. Text copyright © 2020 by Adam Kline. Illustrations copyright © 2020 by Brian Taylor. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover illustration © 2020 by Brian Taylor
Cover design by Joe Merkel
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2019944052
Digital Edition MARCH 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-283998-5
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-283997-8
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FIRST EDITION
Originally published in 2012 by ZOVA Books
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