by T.R. Jensen
“Wow!” Elmwood exclaimed. “How did you do that?”
Needles looked at the astonished Elmwood and laughed. “Cause I am what I am,” he said. “And what I am is the quickest drawin,’ fastest-shooting’ porcupine in the whole forest!” And as if to prove his point, the good-natured porcupine sent several more quick shots toward the stream, smiling as he heard both the snake and frog whimpering as they landed.
“By the way, chipmunk,” Needles asked, nodding toward the stream. “How on earth did you ever get wrapped up with these two?”
Elmwood was just about to tell his story for the third time that day when suddenly from up the trail there came the sound of shouting voices and rushing feet.
“I see them, Erdle!” said one.
“Me, too!” added another.
“And we see them, also!” chimed two tiny butterflies as they flitted here and there, darting between the trail and the stream. “And here they are!”
Panting and out of breath, but with each of them grinning from ear to ear as they took in the scene around them, the ragtag group came sliding to a stop in front of a much surprised Elmwood and Needles.
After pausing a moment to catch his breath, Erdle walked over to the two boys and smiled. “Well, Needles…he asked. “What do we have here?” His gaze wandered over to Slinky and the loud-mouthed frog, his eyes narrowing.
“Not sure, Erdle.” Needles replied, hitching up his pants and trying to look as grown-up as he could. “Looks to me like that old snake and frog over there were fixin’ to have my new friend here for lunch.” He looked quickly at Elmwood and gave him a little wink. “But I guess I outgunned ‘em,” he said. “I was holed up over there in the bushes till I could see those two rascals weren’t jokin,’ and then I stepped in and read the law to ‘em.” And to show them what he meant by “reading the law to ‘em,” Needles began dancing wildly in what quickly became a hilarious attempt at a repeat performance. His antics soon had everybody laughing, including Elmwood.
“All right, all right…” Erdle chuckled. “We get the point, Needles.”
A few moments later, after everyone had a chance to finish catching their breath, Elmwood walked slowly over to Needles and shook his hand, thanking him for what he’d done.
“Aw, shucks, pardner,” Needles said. “Anytime. Anytime at all!”
And then it was a free-for-all. Suddenly everyone was crowding around Elmwood and Needles, all talking excitedly and patting them on the back. They told them how happy they were to see them, how glad they were that both of them were safe, and how very proud they were of Needles for showing up when he did, rescuing Elmwood from certain disaster.They listened as Elmwood once again shared his story, and many of them shed a silent tear at his tragic misfortune—the tiny, delicate butterflies weeping the most.
Elmwood was very happy. He could see how much these friendly strangers already cared for him, and this did wonders to lift his spirits. But there was still a touch of sadness in the young chipmunk’s heart. For even though he was now safe and surrounded by new-found friends, he was still a long way from home, a long way from his mother and father. And this weighed heavily on his mind. Erdle saw this and walked up to Elmwood, smiling gently.
“Don’t worry, Elmwood.” Erdle said. “I know how much you miss your family. And I promise to do everything I can to see that you get safely home. Okay?”
Elmwood looked into the soft eyes of the kind old white-haired man with the floppy hat, and he knew at once that Erdle was telling the truth.
“Thank you, Erdle.” Elmwood replied. “I know you will.”
After the short silence that followed, Erdle suddenly thought of something—he was hungry. And this led to a happy idea. Clapping his hands for attention, Erdle climbed onto an old tree stump and said: “What do you say to all of us heading back to my place for a big old-fashioned picnic?”
“Yes, yes!” everyone cried. Cheers were raised and Erdle’s hat was thrown high into the air. “To Erdle’s!” they yelled. “To Erdle’s place we go!”
“How about you, Elmwood?” Erdle asked. “Are you hungry?”
Elmwood thought about it for a moment, then let his eyes rest on each and every one of the kind and gentle animals who’d given chase to save him. As he did so—
—Plummer and the squirrel smiled…
—The pretty raccoon grinned shyly…
—The butterflies fluttered…
—And Needles, still hitching his pants, flashed him a toothy smile, followed by that quick, friendly wink.
Suddenly Elmwood couldn’t contain himself any longer. A huge grin spread across his face, and he looked up at the old man on the stump. “You bet I’m hungry, Erdle!” he said. Then he looked over at Needles and returned that quick, friendly wink. “All of this fast-shootin,’ quick-drawin’ stuff has got me starving!”
“Well, then…” Erdle said. “It’s been decided. So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
Just as they were about to leave, however, Elmwood suddenly had a thought. “What about Slinky and the loud-mouthed frog?” he asked.
“Oh, don’t worry about them,” Plummer grinned. As I was flying down here I noticed a big old bear coming up the trail. I think that before he gets here Slinky and his froggy friend will have found a way to be gone…”
Later that evening, with the sleepy sun setting slowly over the forest mountains, the woods once again became dark, and the night animals soon began their chatter. But on this night Elmwood wasn’t afraid. Nor was he alone. He was happy and safe in a small feather bed at Erdle’s.
That night Elmwood found himself dreaming of a little house with a winding trail. He dreamed of his mother and father. He dreamed of his brothers and sisters.
He dreamed of going home!
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About the Author:
T.R. Jensen currently resides beneath the beautiful skies of the Pacific Northwest. His quest to explore the philosophical essence of morality through the rigors of human tragedy is the force that fuels his fire. The Adventures of Elmwood is his first children’s story.
For comments and/or questions, the author can be reached at: [email protected].
