Inside Bea’s cottage, Bea is not happy with her work. As the song ends, she begins to beat her painting into submission with a hammer. She stops for a rest and it is then that she can faintly hear something going on outside. The noise seems at odds with the peace and quiet of the countryside.
Outside, McGregor, who is covered in bits of vegetables and fruit juices, spots Peter, who is about to throw a head of lettuce. As Peter lets the lettuce fly, McGregor swings his rake. It connects with the lettuce. The lettuce is sent flying back toward Peter. Knocked flat onto the ground, Peter has no time to catch his breath before McGregor leaps on top of him. He is pinned by the throat with the rake.
“What is going on?”
It is Bea to the rescue. Again. Everyone stops and whips their heads in unison toward the sound of her voice. Peter wriggles out from under Mr. McGregor’s rake.
“Just making sure he’s OK!” McGregor says, covering up for the fact that he wished Peter very much was not OK.
“Why? What happened?” Bea looks at Peter, her eyes filled with concern.
“Little guy choked on a radish. Bit off more than he could chew, I’m afraid. But I saved him,” says Thomas, while he smacks Peter on the back. Repeatedly. “You OK, little fella? Yeah, that’s right. Breathe. That’s it.”
“Did I hear explosives?” Bea asks, looking around for evidence of the noise she thought she had heard.
McGregor shakes himself out of battle mode and walks over to Bea. Peter and the others run behind him. They cannot wait to see what Bea will do when she realizes what McGregor has done.
“No, no. I was just doing some weeding,” says McGregor in his most charming voice.
Peter and the others exchange looks. This cannot be happening again. Then Peter notices something on the ground. It’s the remote control. It must have fallen out of McGregor’s pocket.
“Because some people around here have taken to explosives to keep the rabbits out,” says Bea, frowning at the chaos all about her.
“What? I can’t even imagine that. They’re angels! Is that a broad-shouldered nuthatch?” McGregor says, distracting Bea by pointing to the sky.
“No. It’s a wagtail. See the crown?” They both look as the bird sails overhead.
McGregor leads Bea out of the garden as Peter looks around in disbelief. He spots the line of explosives McGregor dropped as he marched from the burrow to the garden. Then, Peter sees the explosive with the detonator attached to it. If he presses the remote control, Bea will finally see what sort of person McGregor is. A person who uses explosives on her beloved rabbits. And so Peter does it. He presses down on the remote control with his foot.
BLAM! It explodes.
“You are using explosives! You lied to me!” says Bea. Her eyes fill with angry tears.
“Yes, but, no—” McGregor starts to explain, but Bea cuts him off.
“I can’t believe you!”
Peter smiles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He did it. Finally, Bea sees exactly who McGregor is. At long last, the rabbits will have Bea back to themselves.
Cotton-tail sidles up to her brother. She can’t believe he managed to do it. Yes!
BLAM!
There’s another explosion, ignited from the first blast. Then another. BLAM!
And yet another stick explodes. The rabbits all look toward the ruined field. Peter’s smile fades away as he realizes what is about to happen. The trail of explosives leads back to their home, the burrow. The sticks continue to send dirt and grass flying everywhere. The explosions are getting closer and closer to the rabbits’ home.
BLAM!
BLAM!
BLAM!
And then they stop. The rabbits and humans begin to relax. Silence begins to settle over the battle-weary animals when there is one, big, final . . .
KABLAM!
Smoke, fire, and clouds of dirt shoot from under the trees until there is a loud snapping sound. It’s the fir tree that stands very near Bea’s house. snapping at its base. The fir tree falls, and falls and falls. It lands with a very loud crash.
The fir tree has landed right on top of Bea’s glass conservatory, smashing it to pieces.
“Whoa,” says Mrs. Tiggy-winkle as one of her spines flies off.
“My house!” cries Bea as McGregor and the bunnies look on in horror.
Peter can’t believe what has just happened. He didn’t mean to ruin beautiful Bea’s beautiful cottage. He quickly shoves the detonator into the pocket of his jacket.
“He detonated it! He pushed the button!” It’s McGregor pointing the finger at Peter.
“He’s a rabbit!” says Bea, angry at Thomas for blaming the rabbits, angry at the explosives for ruining the tree, and even more angry at the tree for ruining her home.
But McGregor will not be stopped. He has to make Bea see that he is not the one to blame. That it was her precious rabbits all along.
“He can do a lot of things, Bea. A lot of things. They’re devils. Stealing from the garden, electrocuting me.” McGregor tries to explain. “And traps! They booby-trapped my house with traps! On my head! Like a prisoner! They shot me off my house!”
“You’ve lost your mind,” says Bea, shaking her head.
“I’m so sorry,” says McGregor.
“I can’t believe I thought I liked you.”
“You did! And I liked you! I like you!” McGregor can see Bea pushing him away.
She walks over to the rabbits, who all look very, very guilty. They never meant for Bea, or her house, to get hurt.
“Are you OK, sweeties?” asks Bea, full of concern for her friends.
“It was an accident! I can fix this!” McGregor will not give up.
“Some accident. I should have you arrested. For what you did, and for lying to me.” The look of hurt on Bea’s face is unbearable for McGregor to see.
“You don’t really mean that,” he says, scrambling for the words that will make everything better.
“I do. I mean what I say. Which is more than I can say for you,” says Bea. She looks at the rabbits. “Come on. Let’s get away from this evil man.”
Bea and the rabbits walk off. But McGregor can’t let Bea just walk away. He calls after her, “Wait! Let me explain!”
But it’s too late. She’s gone.
The next morning, a silence blankets the countryside in the wake of the battle for McGregor’s garden. JW Rooster III breaks the silence,
“. . . No way! The sun came up again. Woohoo! More of this! Although things aren’t going so great now, maybe last night should have been it!”
A “FOR SALE” sign has been placed in front of the gate. Everything has changed.
Inside the destroyed burrow, the rabbits are all awake. They are still recovering from the explosions. Mopsy and Flopsy are comforting each other, sifting through the clothes that Mopsy made. They are all ruined. Benjamin is trying to clean up one part of the burrow, the part where their pawprints had been recorded throughout their entire bunny lives. Cotton-tail is playing with the ball they used to play with. But it’s not the same.
Peter is completely still. He is thinking about what has happened. He looks at his sisters and his cousin. He looks at their home. It is lost. It is all lost. Peter looks across at Bea’s cottage, or what is left of it. Bea is rifling through her old paintings, trying to see if any of them have survived. She has never looked so sad.
“This wasn’t part of the plan, huh?” asks Cotton-tail, her voice quiet as she looks to her brother for answers. Peter looks at his sister and shakes his head sadly. Peter has never felt more alone.
Chapter Thirteen
PETER’S GRAND PLAN
The streets of London teem with people hurrying to work, while above, a gray sky threatens rain. McGregor is jostled this way and that as he makes his way through the crowd. He is headed back to
his apartment. The beautiful Windermere countryside is firmly behind him. So is Peter. So is Bea.
As McGregor walks past Harrods, he stops and looks at the new window display. His life in the toy department seems so long ago. He can see his own reflection in the window.
Lost in thoughts of his time there, it takes McGregor a moment to realize someone else’s reflection is also in the window. And that someone is standing beside him. It is the General Manager of Harrods. McGregor steps back quickly, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment.
“Thomas! I thought it was you,” she says, smiling. Even after everything that happened, she is pleased to see her past employee. McGregor was mostly always good at his job. “I’ve been trying to call you.”
“There’s no reception in the country,” says McGregor.
“How barbaric,” says the General Manager. She gives a little twitch at the thought of not being able to use her phone.
“One of its many beauties, actually,” says McGregor.
“I have some good news. Bannerman’s no longer with us. We want you back.”
“What happened?” asks McGregor.
“He fist-bumped his uncle in the face. Says it was an accident. Either way, job’s open again. Are you interested?”
McGregor turns to his reflection and pauses to think for a moment.
“Am I?” he asks. The General Manager joins him in his reflection once more. Does he want his old job back? Without Bea there’s no reason to go back to the countryside. London is where he belongs. He decides to accept the job.
Back at Bea’s cottage, or rather, what is left of Bea’s cottage, Peter watches Bea packing away the destroyed parts of her home. Her bike is a dented wreck. She tries to give the bell a ring, but it comes out as a muffled, sad sound. Bea kneels down, sighing, and gives Peter a nuzzle.
“Hey, sweetie,” says Bea, giving him a cuddle. “Sorry about your home. This was all my fault. I should’ve never brought him into our lives.”
Bea picks up a painting she had done of McGregor and frowns at it.
“Such a jerk. Going after you like that. And you not doing anything to goad him. Just minding your own business. A complete innocent.”
Peter looks away, feeling very, very guilty.
“The sad truth is, I actually fell for him. I could have loved him, even. I did love him.” Bea wipes away an angry tear that is falling down her cheek. “Guess it’s back to real life for me. Stop this silly painting and go back home.”
Bea is heartbroken. So is Peter. He looks around, desperate for some way to make it better. She cannot leave! This is not how it was supposed to go. He looks down at the ground. Bea cleans off some dirt and soot from Peter’s jacket.
“I do swear it seems like you understand me,” she whispers.
Later that day, Peter makes his way through McGregor’s destroyed garden and into the house. He walks up to the portrait of his parents, which is still where the triplets hung it during the party. It feels like a lifetime ago. So much has changed since then, since the death of Old Mr. McGregor.
“I messed up, guys. Really bad,” says Peter to his mom and dad.
And if this tale was based on a different kind of storybook, Peter’s parents would say something like this:
“You have made a mess of things,” says Peter’s mother.
“You haven’t really been trying to protect Bea, you’re just scared of losing her,” says Peter’s father.
“But sharing love is not losing love. Love is infinite. You think we loved you any less after we had the girls?” says Peter’s mother.
“I thought somehow going into the garden was a connection to you, Dad. Then she came into our lives, and I was scared of losing her, too. I just got confused,” says Peter, shaking his head at himself, at his mistake.
“You’ve got a good heart, Peter. You just lost your way,” says his father.
“What should I do?” he asks his parents, needing their help more than ever.
“Oh, no. We don’t give solutions, we just highlight emotional themes,” says Peter’s mother.
For, you see, this tale isn’t based on that kind of storybook. Peter is still looking at the portrait, waiting. But there is nothing his parents can say to him. It is just a painting, after all. Deflated, he turns his back on the portrait. Peter walks out of the house, determined, his shoulders back. He knows exactly what he has to do.
Peter returns to what is left of the burrow and gathers his family into a huddle.
“I’m going to London to bring McGregor back,” says Peter.
“Why would you bring back the murderer who’s been trying to murder us?” asks Flopsy.
Peter pauses and thinks for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
“Because Bea likes him. And she deserves to be happy,” says Peter. He has figured out how to make Bea happy again. He can fix this mess. He knows he can!
“You mean the only way we can go back to how it was before is by playing love-doctor to two humans?” asks Mopsy.
“It does sound crazy when you say it out loud but I caused all of this and I let you all down. I’m really sorry,” continues Peter. “I prepared a speech.” Peter reads from the piece of paper.
“I should’ve listened to you, Benjamin. Not just about this. About everything. You’re so much wiser than me. It wasn’t about the garden,” Peter says, and touches his jacket, his dad’s jacket. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
“In a pie, probably,” says Benjamin, with a little chuckle. He smiles at Peter. Peter smiles back and then looks again at each of his little sisters. He loves them all so much, he never wants to risk their lives or their happiness ever again. They are all the family he has got.
“When’s she leaving?” Cotton-tail breaks the silence.
Peter swaps from caring-brother mode to battle-brother mode.
“Since we don’t know train schedules or really where she’s going or even how to tell time, I’m just assuming very soon. Can you stall her?” Peter asks his sisters.
The other bunnies all nod, like the soldiers they are. Peter gives them a quick, tight hug, smiles, and heads off, before quickly turning back.
“Also, I didn’t kill old McGregor. He died of a heart attack,” says Peter with a sheepish grin.
“We know,” says Flopsy.
“Yeah,” says Mopsy.
“The whole time,” says Cotton-tail.
“We thought you needed a victory,” says Benjamin.
“OK then,” says Peter, his eyes brimming with love before he leaves again. This time for real.
Peter makes his way across McGregor’s garden. Laser-focus with a half-thought-out plan. This is what a hero looks like. Or a lunatic. The line between the two is very blurred. They just tend not to tell stories about lunatics.
Then, out of nowhere, Benjamin comes running up to Peter.
“Come on. We gotta catch a train,” he says, out of breath.
“You’re coming with me?” Peter cannot help the smile that is now on his face. He doesn’t have to do this alone!
“Of course. Cousins for life.”
“You got this,” says Peter.
“I got this,” says Benjamin.
Peter nods at his cousin. Between the two of them, Peter knows they can fix everything. He shouts, “We’ve got thi—”
He stops mid-sentence and turns awkwardly to Benjamin.
“That was . . . that was supposed to be both of us,” Peter explains. “You know, doing the ‘We’ve got this’ thing together?”
“Ohhh, right. Sorry, I messed that up,” says Benjamin.
“No biggie. Let’s go again,” says a determined Peter.
“We’ve got this!” Benjamin blurts out.
Peter sighs. “Let’s go on three. One—”
“Two, t
hree—” counts Benjamin.
“We’ve got this!” the cousins shout, almost in unison but not quite. Not even heroes can be perfect all the time.
Chapter Fourteen
TWO RABBITS HIT THE TOWN
Peter and Benjamin find themselves in the crush of the Windermere train station and just manage to jump on board the London-bound train as it leaves the platform.
“This train goes right to where McGregor works? How does it know?” Benjamin asks, suddenly worried they will end up in the wrong place. That would not be a great way to begin their mission.
“No, it just goes to London,” says Peter.
“We don’t know how to get around London,” says Benjamin, working himself up into a panic. “We thought that town with the square was London. You said London was even bigger than that. What do we do?” he continues as the train rumbles through the countryside.
“Coming through, coming through,” shouts a very familiar voice, belonging to a very familiar mouse. It’s Johnny Town-mouse and he is being followed by Peter and Benjamin. Benjamin’s eyes are wide, his mouth open. He is in awe of this mouse who seems to know everything.
“Well, well, well, two country rabbits need help from a town-mouse on how to navigate the big city. Isn’t that ironic,” says Johnny Town-mouse.
“No, it’s exactly as expected,” says Benjamin.
“You! You’re the brains behind this operation, aren’t you?” Johnny points at Benjamin before a shoe comes and kicks him way, way into the air. Peter and Benjamin are shocked. They freeze. What has happened to Johnny? He is their only guide to London. They won’t be able to complete their mission without him. They need him!
“There’s a thing called street smarts. You can’t teach it. Follow me. And stay low,” says Johnny Town-mouse as he comes back down without his hat. He is fine. The mission is still on track.
Inside his London apartment, McGregor is at the window, playing a tuba. He stops when he spots a bird and picks up his binoculars. He whips out his notebook and records what he has just seen. PIGEON. Above is written another bird sighting. PIGEON. And above that, McGregor has written yet another bird sighting. PIGEON. The page is one long list of pigeon sightings. He is definitely not in the country anymore.
Peter Rabbit, Based on the Movie Page 7
