Civlisation - The Rise of "Mustela sapiens"

[pauljmsn]

CIVILISATION - THE RISE OF MUSTELA SAPIENS
Volume I: Europe

By Paul E. Jamison[/center]

Part 1

Dec. 13, 1795

There are some that claim that it was a dark and stormy night. Indeed, some tend to go on about it for some length. In truth, it was a clear, cold Yorkshire night, only two days after a December storm. This is relevant for two reasons only: the occupants of the two coaches and the cart had a clear view of the fireball as it fell from the dark sky; and the dead grass in the fields did not catch fire after it hit the ground.

The two coaches had stopped along the road and the coachmen were trying to calm the horses down. Two gentlemen had gotten out of the coaches and had walked over to the small crater. The fire had gone out, but the object was still glowing red-hot; as cold as the night was, the two men could only approach to within a few feet.

They quietly stood and looked down at the object for a few moments. Finally, one turned to the other and said, “Your thoughts on what it might be, my dear Doctor?”

Doctor Siger Holmes carefully knelt down on the wet grass and looked more closely at the glowing rock. “I would say, Sir John, that this is a meteorite. A visitor from the heavens, if you will.”

Sir John Clayton, the third Duke of Greystoke, nodded. “I thought as much. We are fortunate, indeed, that our horses were as slow as they were. If we had arrived a few seconds sooner, this rock might have hit one of the coaches.”

“That is true. And the fellow ahead of us is more fortunate still. I would swear that the fireball passed directly over his cart!” He looked ahead of them along the road. A horse-drawn cart was stopped there, and a stocky little man had alit and was now fussing over several stacks of what looked like cages in the back. The Doctor and the Duke could hear faint chirping sounds.

Sir John said, “Chickens, do you think?”

Dr. Holmes shook his head. “It doesn’t sound quite right. Shall we go and see?”

“A fine idea.” They strolled up the road to the cart.

The cages were full of ferrets. The cartman was making clucking noises to soothe them down, and the chirping noises were easing somewhat when the two gentlemen came up.

The cartman turned to them and smiled a big gap-toothed grin. “Evenin’, gentle sirs! I hopes you came through the ordeal unharmed!”

The Duke replied, “Yes, we did, my good man, thank you for asking. Did any of these creatures receive any injuries?”

“Ah, no hurt done, sir. The poor dears were frightened, is all. Hardy animals, these are, and they calms down quickly. They got quite a show, though!”

Dr. Holmes said, “I am glad to hear it.” He looked over the cages. There were dozens of ferrets on the cart, many of them staring back at him with big, dark eyes. “Are you a ferreter, by chance?”

“Well spotted, sir!” The cartman bowed deeply. “Mr. Kirk, at your service! Best ratters in Yorkshire, if I do say so meself!”

The Duke looked at the cages more closely. “I can well believe it. These are fine looking animals, sir. I don’t think I’ve seen ferrets so big!”

Kirk beamed. “That’s the way I wants ‘em, gentlemen. I breeds me ferrets, you see, and I try to do right by the little ones. Some ferreters, you see, don’t feeds their animals the best of food. But, me –” Kirk tapped his nose. “– I know what the wild polecats eat. And I figure it stands to reason that domestic ferrets ought to eat the same. And in my eyes that means meat. Because polecats are – what is the word?”

The Doctor nodded. “Carnivores?”

Kirk snapped his fingers. “That’s the word! I’ve not got much schooling, but I know that one, at least.” He leaned forward and whispered. “I’ve got a stew I makes and cooks for them – my own recipe – and they do quite well on it, as you can well see.”

Sir John nodded. “It’s quite obvious. There are quite a few ferrets here, I see.”

“Me whole stock. Every blessed one. We’re on a journey across the country, we are, to Plymouth. These babies don’t know it, but some of them will be taking a voyage across the ocean! My brother is heading for Canada and wants to set up his own ferreting business there.”

“Really?” Dr. Holmes looked over the cages. “Are all of your ferrets going?”

“No, no, sir. I’ll be meeting me brother in Plymouth. We’ll sort through my whole stock, and he’ll choose the ones he wants. Once he’s gone, I’ll comes back here to Wold Newton with what I has left. I’ve gots plenty and can spare some breeding pairs for me brother.”

“Ah, I see.” Sir John looked back at the coaches. A young man on horseback had stopped by and was talking with the coachmen and pointing at the smoldering meteorite. “Doctor, I see your friend Noel has caught up. I feel we ought to be on our way. Mr. Kirk, I am glad that you and yours have come to no harm, and I for one was happy to hear about your animals. My house could use some ratters; I’ll have to return some time!”

“Ye’re most welcome to look me up when you comes through again, sir! I lives in a small cottage outside of the village; just ask anyone and they’ll gives you directions! Have a pleasant journey, good sirs!”

The ferreter gave a final glance over the cages and climbed back into the cart. He gave a cluck to his horse and was soon moving on down the road.

Shortly the two coaches and the horseman passed the cart, and the riders waved at the ferreter and passed on. As it was, Kirk did not meet any of the people in the coaches again. As time went on, the families represented in the two coaches would intermarry, and members of the succeeding generations – marked with distinct grey eyes – would make their marks on the world. But this story is not about them.

This story is about those ferrets.

##########################

Kirk spent several days in Plymouth dickering with his brother about which ferrets he could spare and which he wanted to keep. Finally, he saw his brother sail off to Canada with about half of his breeders safely tucked away in cages, and he soon returned with the remainder to his cottage outside Wold Newton.

As ferreters go, Kirk had been doing well for himself. He charged what he considered reasonable prices for his services. He wasn’t wealthy, but then he didn’t deal all that much in cash. Barter was much more acceptable in Yorkshire. He’d bring one of his best ratters to someone’s home to deal with rats in the grain or mice in the children’s bedroom, and in return he’d be sure to receive a fine brace of hares or pheasants for his larder, or repair services for his clothing or his cottage.


The cottage was a fine thatched one made of strong stone. It had previously belonged to a school teacher who had left the village rather urgently one night, just before the nature of his attentions to a local farmer’s young daughter were about to come to light. The teacher had been in such a hurry, in fact, that he had left behind all of his property, including furniture and books. That particular winter had been a hard one, and many vermin had sought shelter indoors. Kirk had therefore been very busy around the village. Wold Newton owed him quite a bit for his services, and it had been generally agreed that the cottage – furnishings and all – was proper payment. So he had moved in.

Kirk liked the cottage very much. It was cool in summer and warm in winter. The kitchen was excellent. Especially nice was a large attached shed that became a ferret room. On the other hand, there were all those books.

Now Kirk was not an educated man. He could read a bit, and do some simple sums, but that was about it. And now he owned an entire large room with shelf after shelf of books. There was a set of primers for teaching young pupils the alphabet, but he only glanced through this before deciding that it wasn’t worth his trouble. The other books – collections of poetry, histories, the inevitable collection of Plutarch – he didn’t even bother with. Still, he didn’t want to get rid of them. He thought that they looked nice on the shelves, and occasionally he actually considered the idea of bettering himself; stranger things had happened.

What he particularly liked about his newly acquired property was an extensive collection of alcoholic spirits. The school teacher apparently had other vices besides an appreciation for young women. Kirk liked his liquor, but he prided himself on being a moderate drinker. He figured that the stock of whiskeys and gin would last him a long time. All in all, he was well set up.

Kirk didn’t think any more about the meteorite fall. For a brief time Wold Newton became a popular destination for men of science and for tourists. Kirk didn’t care about any of this. He just went about his business. Then came the first of the pregnancies.

It was only a few weeks after his return that Gertrude showed the first signs. The jill didn’t go into heat at her regular time, and she began to eat a lot more. Kirk isolated her from her mate, and soon she looked like she’d swallowed a grapefruit.

It wasn’t the proper season for birthing, but Kirk wasn’t bothered; these things happened. He still wasn’t alarmed when another jill became pregnant, and another and another. Kirk was thinking how much a good ratter would fetch on the market. And a lot of ratters would obviously fetch a lot on the market. Kirk didn’t try to figure how much; that was beyond his math skills.

Gertrude, as the first to get pregnant, was the first to exhibit nesting behavior. Then, one night in the spring, Kirk walked into the ferret room and heard unmistakable peeping sounds. He knelt down to look in the jill’s box and saw her curled up and calmly nursing a squirming group of tiny, red creatures.

Kirk was overjoyed. “Ah, Gertrude, me lass, you’ve blessed us with a fine litter of wee ones!” He looked over the newborns. There were no less than eight of them. Better still, they all looked healthy; normally there was a runt in a litter that likely wouldn’t survive, but none in this lot. Indeed, they all looked rather large for kits.

Kirk opened the cage door and carefully picked up one. Gertrude made no objections; she trusted him. The baby, blind and deaf and completely unaware of the world around him, squawked and complained as Kirk held him close to inspect him.

“Yes, a good, healthy one you are. You shall make a fine ratter –"

Kirk frowned and looked more closely at the tiny front paws. Strange – the toes looked longer than normal. And stranger still, there seemed to be more than one joint in each toe.

Kirk placed the kit back and picked up another one. Its front paws were the same way. He’d never seen the like in ferrets before. They almost looked like the hands of a newborn human baby. Were they all that way?

He shrugged and put the second newborn back. It was unusual, but he couldn’t see the harm in it. Indeed, it might mean that they would make better diggers than normal. Who knows? Maybe it was something he could breed for.

Three days later, another jill gave birth. Her babies had the same long paws, as did those of the next litter. Kirk was surprised, but pleased overall.

Time went on, and more babies came, and they grew just like other ferrets. Within days, the newborns were covered with soft, grey fur. This fur soon showed the expected faint markings. Sable, White, Cinnamon, Blaze, Silver Mitt – Kirk was pleased to see such a variety.

The tiny kits were raising all sorts of a ruckus, peeping away. This soon gave way to an almost continuous “Ma… Ma… Ma…” Kirk didn’t notice when this changed to “Ma-ma… Ma-ma… Ma-ma…”

After some weeks, it was time for Kirk to cook up his special weaning stew. The little ones were still blind, and they attacked the dishes of stew with sloppy gusto. Their faces were soon covered with goo that their mothers were only too glad to clean off. Kirk smiled; these babies were growing fast.

Soon their eyes opened, and it seemed that whenever he came into the ferret room with their daily meal, all those little eyes were riveted on him. They had quieted down quite a bit and didn’t make much noise as they watched him open the cages and ladle out the stew.

One day, Kirk breezed into the cage room, carrying the stew pot and booming, “Meal time, me children!” He went around the room, unlatching each cage door and dipping out a generous portion of stew into each pan. “Come along, dear ones! Eat up and fill your bellies!” The kits rushed to the pan and were already wolfing down the stew while he was relocking the cage.

He finally latched the top door on the last cage and set the now empty pot on the floor. He settled down on his haunches and watched the kits eating with gusto. This was Gertrude’s litter – the first of this batch of births. One of them, showing the markings of a Sable, stopped eating and looked up at Kirk.

The human smiled and said, “And you, my lad. Why stop to pay any attention to this old ratter? Aren’t you hungry?”

The kit looked right back at him, and in a tiny voice said, “I hungry!”

Kirk fell back on his seat and stared at the young ferret. The kit went back to eating.

The human scrabbled for his stew pot and somehow got to his feet. He ran through the door and slammed it behind him.

Kirk opened a bottle of brandy and took a long draw. He shook his head vigorously as the liquor burned his throat on the way down. Kirk gasped and took another swig. And a third.

##########################

Kirk woke up with a raging headache. He was in his rough little bed, fully clothed, and the afternoon sun was shining through his bedroom window. He had no memory at all of how he’d gotten there.

It took a few moments for the pain behind his eyes to die down enough for him to think, and he tried to remember what had happened. His last memory was feeding the kits –

No. It couldn’t have been. He couldn’t have heard what he thought he had. He rolled over on to what turned out to be an empty brandy bottle. He’d gotten drunk. That was it. He’d gotten drunk enough that he thought he’d heard…

But that wasn’t the way he was remembering it. He’d heard the little ferret… speak - and then he’d come back into the main house and reached for the liquor. But ferrets don’t talk, so that couldn’t be right.

No. No. He’d begun drinking before he fed the ferrets. That had to be it. There was no other explanation. Now that he thought of it, he did remember taking a swig from the brandy just before he’d started to cook the stew. Sure he did. Drinking before he cared for his furred children – Kirk had never done that before. That was bad. He’d have to make sure he never did that again.

Speaking of which, it was feeding time for the ferrets. He’d drunk so much that he’d lost a day. Oh, well, that couldn’t be helped now. He sat up and managed to crawl out of bed. The headache was still there, as was a churning in his stomach. But the ferrets came first. He managed to stumble to the fireplace and get the fire going.

As he stirred together his special stew, he gradually convinced himself that it had been the drink that had done it. He now distinctly recalled taking up the bottle before feeding time.

Soon he had a nice, large batch of stew. He lifted the pot from the fireplace and carried it out to the ferret room.

They were all quiet today. They simply sat in their cages and watched him as he walked through the door.

Kirk smiled at the ferrets. “I must have given you a fright yesterday, my lovelies.” He bent over and unlatched the first cage. “I’ll make sure it don’t happen again.”

One of the kits looked up at him and said, “I sorry I scare you, mister.”

Kirk dropped the pot, and the stew spilled out onto the floor. The cage door banged down as he backed away, staring at the ferret. Then Kirk made a bolt for the door.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 2

The little kit stared at the spilled stew; the pot had landed on its side and the stew was running out onto the floor. It smelled delicious. All around the room, the kits were wailing about being hungry and wanting their food.

The little ferret’s head felt funny. He couldn’t have said where the thoughts or the words were coming from. He didn’t even have the thought processes to understand the question of where they came from – not yet anyway. But his mind was almost exploding with strange thoughts. He couldn’t have known what the words “inductive reasoning” or “logic” meant, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t use them.

The food – the delicious-smelling food – was out there, and he was in the – in the cage, that was it – they were in a cage. They couldn’t get their food, because the – the human had to open the cage door and give it to them.

The human could open the door, but they couldn’t. He’d climbed up the inside of the cage yesterday and had tried to open it, but it wouldn’t open. He hadn’t worried about it after that.

But those funny thoughts were coming to him now. He asked a question in his head: why couldn’t he open the cage door when the human could?

The human must do something to the door to that he could open it, but the ferrets couldn’t. Yes, that’s it! The kit remembered now – the human did something to the door before he’d open it. Then after he was done giving them their food, he’d close the door and do something to it so that it wouldn’t open.

But the human had closed the cage door and dropped the food and went away. It wouldn’t do any good to try and open it…

Something bothered the little ferret. And it occurred to him – the human had closed the door this time, but he hadn’t done whatever-it-was to lock the door. He hadn’t had time. Had he?

The kit climbed up to the cage door. It didn’t look any different from inside, but he was hungry. He put his paw against it and pushed up.

The door opened easily. The kit squeaked and climbed out. His cagemates saw what he’d done and climbed up after him. Their Mamma watched for a moment, and then climbed up and nosed the door open.

Soon the mother ferret and her kits were eating the spilled stew. It tasted just as delicious as it had smelled.

As soon as the little kit had satisfied his own appetite, he noticed that the ferrets in the other cages were crying and wailing even more.

“We’re hungry, too!” “Please let us out!” “We want to eat!”

The little ferret looked at the other cages. He wondered for a moment why they didn’t come out, until it occurred to him that they couldn’t. The human had opened his cage and hadn’t locked it. But he hadn’t had time to get to the other cages. They were still locked. The human would have to come back and unlock them.

More new thoughts in the ferret’s mind. Why couldn’t he unlock the other cages? He didn’t know how the human did it. But maybe he could figure it out.

The kit walked over to the nearest cage and climbed up the outside. The ferrets had climbed up the inside and were pushing on the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

The kit looked at the odd thing on the outside of the cage door. That must be what kept it shut. It looked like the same thing on his cage.

No. It wasn’t quite the same. He looked over at his cage. Something wasn’t there. The thing on this cage had a long, thin thing on it. There! On the floor near his cage was another thin thing.

He looked more closely at the cage door he was on. The thin thing was pushed through some sort of hole. Maybe that was what kept the cage door locked. If he could get it out, the door would open.

He pushed at the thin thing. It didn’t move. He stopped and thought about this. Maybe it couldn’t move that way. Another way, maybe? He pushed on it again, in a different direction.

The thin thing clattered to the floor, and the door came open. The ferrets inside swarmed out and almost knocked him off to the floor. Opening the rest of the cages was easy after that.

Soon all of the ferrets were happily eating their fill of stew. There was plenty to go around.

The little kit was next to his mother. At one point he looked up, licked the stew off of his chin and said, “This stuff is good, isn’t it, Mamma?”

The adult ferret looked up from the stew and stared at the little one. The kit suddenly felt very sad. Ever since he’d found that he could talk, he’d tried to get his mother to say something to him. But she hadn’t.

“Mamma, please say something to me! Why won’t you say something?

“Do you love me, Mamma?”

Still the older ferret said nothing. But she began to gently groom the little kit.

“I love you, too, Mamma.”

##########################

Kirk woke up with a roaring headache and the taste of bile in his mouth. He had no idea how much he had drunk last night or how long he had slept; daylight was streaming through his grimy bedroom window. He shifted slightly in his bed, but his head throbbed even more.

Kirk didn’t try to convince himself that he’d imagined things. He knew what he’d heard – yesterday? How long had he been out?

He heard something move next to him. Kirk managed to turn around, and he saw one of the Sable ferret kits, standing on its hind legs right next to him.

The little ferret said, “Hi.” He stared at it for a moment, and then it said, “Mister, we’re hungry.”

Kirk roared, “GET OFF OF MY BED!” The kit hurriedly jumped down and ran for the door.

Kirk snarled and tried to settle back down. Maybe he could get a little more sleep and his body wouldn’t ache so much. But it was no use; there was no way that he could get comfortable. Besides, he thought he could hear a faint noise just outside the bedroom.

Finally he sat up on bed and swung his legs around to touch the floor. He felt something round with his toe and managed to focus on the floor. Two bottles. He’d drunk quite a bit.

Kirk got to his feet and stumbled to the door. Just outside the room, the ferret kit was sitting on the floor, sobbing gently.

Kirk listened to the ferret cry and said nothing for a few moments. He still felt some anger, and not a little fear. But the Sable was crying like a child, and didn’t seem dangerous at all. Finally, he muttered, “What are you carryin’ on about?”

The kit snuffled and looked up at him. “I’m – I’m sorry I made you mad, Mister. I didn’t mean to.”

Kirk’s anger left him, and now he felt bad. He’d kept and bred ferrets for years now, and he’d always felt affection toward them. They were like children to him, in a way.

Kirk sighed. “It’s – not your fault. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

The little ferret wiped the tears from his eyes. “Do you – do you mean that?”

Kirk nodded. “It wasn’t called for. It’s just –” He stared at the animal. “What are you?”

The kit thought for a moment and replied, “I’m a – I’m a ferret! Yes, that’s the word. I’m a ferret.”

“I know that! It’s just – ferrets can’t talk. How is it that you can talk? And where are you learning all these words?”

The little Sable looked confused. “I don’t know, Mister. I just – know how to talk. And the words are just there. I don’t know where they come from.”

Kirk shook his head. “Well, I certainly can’t explain it. One of those things, I guess.” He looked down at the ferret for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I got me dooty. Ye say ye’re hungry?”

The little kit perked up. “Yes, Mister! The other ferrets are hungry too! I didn’t want to wake you up, but you been sleeping for so long that –“

“Very well, very well then. I’ll make you stew now.” He headed for the kitchen.

“Can I come, too? Can I watch you?”

Kirk thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not. Just stay out of the way.”

Kirk could feel the little kit’s eyes follow him around the kitchen as he prepared the ferrets’ stew. He tried his best to be patient as the creature asked questions about everything the human did. “What’s that stuff?” “That’s meat.” “Where is the water coming from?” “I’m getting’ it from this here pump; it’s connected to a well.” Soon the pot was full and heating in the fireplace. “What’s that bright yellow stuff?” “That’s fire. Don’t get too close or you’ll get burned.”

At one point the little one said, “Ferrets aren’t supposed to talk?”

Kirk looked at him. “Not normally, no.”

“Is that why my Mamma won’t talk to me? Can’t she talk?”

“I doubt if she can. You must be different somehow.”

Soon the questions were over and the little ferret just watched. The silence was awkward. Kirk couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Finally the stew was boiling and he ladled it out into the crock and headed for the ferret room. The Sable kit eagerly followed behind him.

All of the ferrets were out of their cages and scattered all around the room, but it wasn’t quite as chaotic as he would have expected. The adults were exploring or napping or grooming their kits. The younger ones were all over the place, carefully climbing on the lumber and the iron scrap, looking at the various tools hanging on the walls; a couple had climbed to the window and were looking out. Some were gathered in small groups and actually talking to each other.

When Kirk brought in the stew, it got everyone’s attention. The kits began chirping with joy. “Food!” “We were hungry!” “It smells good!” They and the adults rushed to the cages as Kirk ladled out the stew into their bowls.

One group of kits didn’t seem interested in the food. Kirk could tell something was wrong and asked one, “What’s the problem, then?”

The little ferret whimpered, “Mamma’s not here. She’s gone. We don’t know where she went.”

Another one said, “I want my Mamma!”

Kirk looked around and counted the adults. One was missing. He looked more closely. Josephine. He didn’t see her. He ladled out the last of the stew and began looking around the room.

Ah. Behind a box was a small hole in the wall. He hadn’t noticed it before. Josephine had found it and must have gotten outside.

He’d seen a fox hanging around the yard the other day. He said to the kits, “Stay here.” Kirk left the room and headed for the front door.

He found Josephine rolling in the grass not far away from the cottage. She was fine, if a bit dirty, and she was enjoying the warm day and the bright sun.

“Here, me girl!” She jumped up at the sound of his voice and ran toward him.

As he headed back to the front door with Josephine in his arms, Kirk looked at her and said, “Don’t suppose you could tell me what’s goin’ on around here?” But she just looked at him and didn’t utter a word.

Josephine’s kits yipped happily when Kirk brought her back in the room. “Mamma! Mamma!” He placed her in her cage, and the babies climbed in after her. Soon they were all eating the stew.

Several of the others were already eating. Not all of them, though. One group of kits was pushing a box up against the wall. Kirk watched them for a few seconds, and finally asked, “What d’you think you’re doing?”

One of the kits – the Sable who had woken him earlier – looked up and said, “We’re trying to put this – this box in front of the hole! We don’t want anyone else getting out like that!”

Kirk stared at him.

The kit looked confused. “Did we do something wrong, Mister?”

Kirk shook himself. “Um – no, no! That’s a smart thing to do!” He stepped forward. “I’ll move the box. You – you kids go and eat.”

When Kirk was done blocking the escape hole, he stood and watched the ferrets, all in their separate cages, enjoying their stew. One of the kits looked up and said, “Thanks for the food, Mister! It tastes good!”

One of Josephine’s kits said, softly, “Thanks for bringing our Mamma back, Mister. We love her and we missed her.”

Kirk muttered, “You’re quite welcome, I’m sure.” He left them there to eat. He didn’t lock the cage doors.

##########################

Kirk sat at the dining table and tried to think.

He’d long been of the opinion that ferrets were smarter than most people let on, but what were these creatures? Animals who could talk and think?

He took a swig of brandy. Kirk had never been much of a religious man. He got along well with old vicar Clapsattle, but he’d rarely set foot inside the local church beyond the occasional ratting job; his ferrets got as much exposure to religion as he did. He didn’t give that much thought to the Devil or eternal damnation. But these animals… Could they be instruments of Satan?

Some of the locals would likely say that they were. Not the old Vicar, though. Seemed to have a practical view of things. Not a fire-and-brimstone man, thankfully.

Kirk didn’t believe these talking ferrets were demonic, either. They didn’t feel evil. He somehow had the impression that a demonic creature would either be arrogant or be a smooth talker. These youngsters were polite and curious. And actually nice, too. That was all.

But where did they come from? What would cause a group of young ferrets suddenly up and talk? Was it something that happened before they were born?

He remembered then. The meteor. All of these kits had been born after that night the glowing rock fell from the sky. He’d had all of his ferrets with him at the time. And the rock had come very close.

Kirk had no idea how a glowing rock could affect some ferrets so that they’d give birth to these… children. But it had been the only unusual event in recent years. He took another swig. Yeah. Had to be it.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

Soon the bottle was empty, and Kirk got to his feet and walked unsteadily to his bed. Of course, it could all be something diabolical. He looked over at the bookshelves, which he rarely paid attention to. He’d test one of the kits tomorrow.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 3

As he’d expected, the Sable kit was sitting on his bed when he woke up the next day. Kirk looked at the ferret and said, “Hungry, are ye?”

The kit replied, “Yes, Mister.”

“Fine, then. I’ll feed ye.” Kirk sat up and stretched. “First, though, I want to show ye somethin’.”

“What’s that, Mister?”

“Foller me.” Kirk headed for the library, with the kit scampering behind.

Once he was in the strange room, the ferret stopped and his eyes were almost popping out of his head as he looked around at shelf after shelf of strange things he’d never seen before. “What are these, Mister?”

“They’re called books.” Kirk bent down to find the one book he was looking for. “Full of words, they are. People write down their thoughts in these.” He pulled out a small book bound in leather. He didn’t look at the old schoolteacher’s books much, but this one he’d paid even less attention to than most.

Kirk knelt down and held the book out to the kit. The little creature looked at the strange markings on the cover. “What’s that, Mister?”

“It’s called the Holy Bible.” He pointed out the markings. “See here? H-O-L-Y B-I-B-L-E. Those letters spell it out.”

Kirk wasn’t sure how the kit would react. It looked more closely at the words, and held out a paw. “That’s an ‘H’?”

“Aye, it is.”

“And that’s a ‘B”? Like that one there?”

“Aye. There’s more words inside if ye’d like to see.”

“May I, please?” Kirk handed the Bible over. It was large for the kit to handle, so it lay the book on the floor and opened it.

The ferret didn’t hiss in pain or burst into flame. Kirk couldn’t be sure, but he thought that meant that it wasn’t demonic. Its eyes were filled with wonder as it turned page after page, looking over all of the words.

The ferret looked up at Kirk. “There’s lots of ‘O’s and ‘B’s here.”

“Aye, there are.”

The kit frowned. “There’s lots of other letters here, too. What are they?”

“Well.” Kirk pointed at one page. “That’s an ‘A’. There’s an ‘M’. There’s 26 letters in the alphabet. Some of these are numbers, too. There’s a ‘2’ and a ‘4’.”

The kit kept turning the pages. He was feeling funny in his head again. “Can you tell me what they all are, Mister?”

Kirk looked over the shelves. There it was. He pulled it out. “Here’s a schoolchild’s primer. It lists all the letters.” He lay the book open and began turning the pages. “See here – ‘A’. And that’s a Apple. The next is ‘B’ – and that’s a bear.” Kirk flipped through the book as the ferret watched.

The thoughts – the ideas – were practically boiling through the kit’s head. Letters – form words – words mean something. Ideas, written down in books for people to read. To think about. He looked around at all the books – all the ideas - and his mind almost felt overwhelmed.

The kit whispered. “Have you read all these books, Mister?”

Kirk felt his face get red. “No – no, I ‘aven’t. I ‘aven’t – I ‘aven’t had time. Which reminds me – I ‘ave to fix yer stew.” He got up. “You comin’ with me?”

The kit replied, “Can I stay here and look at these books, Mister? I won’t hurt them, I promise!”

Kirk thought for a moment. There wasn’t much trouble the creature could get into. “Very well. At least until I have the food ready.” He headed for the kitchen as the ferret pored over the school primer and the Bible.

Kirk filled the stewpot with water and placed it over the fire. Apparently these creatures could pick up reading better than he could. He wasn’t sure what to think of that.

When the stew was done, he went out to the library to get the kit. The creature was ready to go. Kirk found that the two books were no longer on the floor. The ferret had placed them back on the shelves – in the proper place, at that.

From then on, Kirk settled into a routine. He’d get up each day to make the ferrets their stew. There were always two or three, including the Sable one, who would watch him as he prepared the meal – but only until it was on the fire and starting to boil. Then they’d all go to the library, where they would join almost all the other kits, learning to read the books. And they always put them back properly when they were done.


Over many nights, over many bottles of brandy or wine, Kirk tried to figure things out. But it made no sense to him. And that meant more brandy.

##########################

Kirk had other responsibilities in the community of Wold Newton besides feeding his ferrets. He was the local ratter, after all. One night, as he was heating the stew under the watchful eye of the little Sable, someone knocked at his front door. The little ferret ran to hide as Kirk went to answer. It was the widow Gytha.

Gytha was, as always, prim and proper and well-dressed. She usually looked like she was judging you and finding you wanting, although she would never come out and say it. She looked over the ratter and probably found him wanting indeed. Kirk had not shaved or cut his hair in days, and his clothes were in serious need of washing. The bloodshot eyes and the rank breath would have been more than enough to tell anyone what vice he’d been indulging in lately.

Kirk managed to smile and ask civilly, “How d’ye do, Widow Gytha? And what may I do for ye this day?”

Gytha was always polite, as she was now when she replied, “And a good day to you, sir. I am in need of your ferreting services, Mr. Kirk. There are signs of mice in my pantry. May I ask if you’re – um – available today?”

He smiled. “Why, certainly, Ma’am! I’m in the process of feeding me little ones right now, but as soon as I’m done with that, I’ll be right over with two of me best ratters! Can ye wait for us, then?”

“Why, yes, that would be fine. I presume the usual fee will apply?”

“A good brace of coneys, yes, Ma’am. My ferrets are hungry little devils and some hares will go down nicely. We’ll be around soon as we can, thank ye, Ma’am!”

When the lady had left, the Sable came out of hiding, and as Kirk ladled out the stew, the young ferret asked, “Why did you call her ‘Widow Gytha’, Mister?”

“’Cuz Gytha is her name. Just as my name is Kirk and your Mum’s name is Gertrude!”

“Oh.” The ferret said nothing more.

Once the stew had been distributed, Kirk picked up two of the adult ferrets – Josephine and Stewart – and placed them in a carrying cage. One of the younger ferrets started to get agitated. “Where are you taking my Mamma?”

Kirk picked up the cage and said, “Don’t fret. We’re going to catch some mice, maybe. Yer Mamma has to earn her keep. We’ll be back shortly.” The young ferret seemed reassured and joined his siblings in the stew as Kirk headed out the door.

The Sable ate thoughtfully, and from time to time he looked up at the word GERTRUDE on his Mamma’s cage.

The ratting assignment did not go well. Josephine and Stewart seemed to take forever flushing out any pests, and the Widow seemed to want to chatter endlessly on and on while Kirk fidgeted. It finally turned out that the supposed signs of mice had been there from a previous infestation, and the Widow’s servant had simply neglected to clean them up until now. There were no mice to be found.

Widow Gytha was profusely apologetic about wasting the ratter’s time and promised an extra-large brace of hares as compensation. But Kirk was in a foul mood when he returned home.

He let Josephine and Stewart back into the ferrets’ room and went to open a bottle of brandy. He’d gone through most of the bottle and his mood hadn’t improved much when he remembered the travel cage and staggered back to the ferrets’ room to put it where it belonged.

He should have expected it. The young ferrets seemed to be waiting for him. When he set the cage down, one of them asked, “Mister Kirk, what’s my name?”

Kirk scowled. “What? What’s that?”

“We haven’t got any names. I want a name.”

The human tried to shake some clarity into his head. “All right. Right, then, from now on, ye’re named Skippy.”

“Thank you, Mister Kirk!”

As he turned around, another ferret spoke up. “I want a name, too!”

Several of them started to speak now. “I want a name!” “What’s my name?” “Who am I, Mister?”

The day – the last few weeks – had been a lot for Kirk, and at that point he lost his temper. “Right, you want names? I’ll give you names!” He jabbed his finger at one. “You’re Skippy!” He pointed at another. “And you’re Skippy! And you! And you!!”

Kirk shouted, “You’re all Skippy, do ye un’erstand? Every last one of you is named Skippy now!! Are ye happy?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

The ferrets didn’t make a sound for a moment, and then they all began to talk at once.

“I don’t want to be Skippy!”

“Well, I do! I like the name Skippy!”

“So do I!”

“But I don’t like it, either! I want another name!”

“I do, too!”

“And me!”

“Well, I’ll take the name Skippy!”

“So will I!”

The Sable ferret held up his paws and managed to talk louder than the others and make himself heard above the din. “Everyone! Calm down! Be quiet!”

When he had their attention, he said, “Very well, Skippy is a good name, but I don’t think we all have to be called that! Mister Kirk was angry. I think that if some of us want to be named Skippy, that would be fine, and if others want another name, that would be fine as well. How many here want the name Skippy?”

It turned out that about half of the ferrets wanted Skippy as a name, and the rest didn’t. One of the latter said, “But what about us? We want names, too! How will we get our names?”

The Sable thought for a moment, and then said, “I think that we ought to decide on our own names. Mister Kirk doesn’t have to give us names. I see nothing wrong with doing it ourselves.”

The others thought about this, and then nodded. One of them said, “I like that. We can get the names we want that way. But where will we find names?”

“In the books! There are plenty of names in the Holy Bible. And we can look through the other books as well. Does anyone object to that?”

No one did. Indeed, they were all enthusiastic about the idea. So later, while Kirk slept, the ferrets were in the library, poring through the books.

##########################

When Kirk woke up later, the little Sable was patiently waiting at the foot of the bed.

“Hello, Mister Kirk.”

Kirk grunted in return. His mouth was filled with dust and his head was about to burst.

“I’ve named myself Noah. Isn’t that a good name?”

Kirk pulled himself up and mumbled, “Yeh, right, good name, that.” There was a half-full bottle of something on the table by the bed. He picked it up and took a swig.

Noah said, “Don’t you think you’re drinking too much of that stuff, Mister Kirk? It seems to do bad things to you.”

Kirk frowned at the ferret. “How do you know what this is doing to me?”

“I tasted it once, Mister. It was awful. Why do you keep drinking it if it tastes so bad?”

The human got to his feet. “Listen, Noah or Esau or whoever you are. I drink this because I want to. If I want to drink it, that’s none of yer concern! Why don’t ye go about your business and I’ll go about mine?”

Noah meekly replied, “Yes, sir.”

“Fine, then.” Kirk got unsteadily to his feet. He took another swig and said, “Now, then, it’s meal time for you critters, so I’ll go about fixing the stew. Does that meet with your approval?”

“Yes, Mister Kirk.”

Noah kept quiet in the kitchen and watched the human make the stew. The ferret paid special attention to what Kirk did. The human was drinking more and more of that bad-tasting liquid stuff, and Noah was worried. It seemed to affect the human’s ability to function properly, and if he drank more than usual, he slept a lot longer. It was hard to wake him at those times. Soon, Noah figured that he might not be able to wake him at all, and then how would the ferrets get fed?

Noah had an idea about that. He hoped that nothing would come of it, but if it ever became necessary, he’d have to try.

Sure enough, a few days later, he couldn’t wake Kirk at all. Noah poked, prodded, jabbed and even nipped, but Kirk kept snoring away and didn’t react at all. It looked like he’d emptied his stomach during the night, too, as there was a damp, horribly smelly puddle next to him on the bed.

Noah looked at the human for a few minutes and tried to wake him one more time. Then the ferret jumped off the bed and headed for the kitchen.

Noah had figured out what he could do. He knew where the meat was kept, and he could get up to the countertop and work the pump by the sink. The countertop was close to the fireplace, and the ferret found that if he leaned far enough forward, he could dump a bowlful of water in the pot. He had to be careful, though.

Noah dropped down to the floor and stirred the ashes beneath the cooking pot. There were a few smoldering embers from the previous day, and by poking at them and adding some kindling, he soon had a fire going.

Noah climbed up to the countertop and got more water. He leaned over the edge of the counter and poured more water into the pot. He was thinking of what to do next. He could get the meat out and somehow cut it up into chunks. He had to be careful leaning over…

##########################

Kirk woke up later and tried to shake the cobwebs from his brain. He thought he could hear someone crying in the kitchen. Those ferrets were up to something. Then he thought he could smell something burning.

Kirk got up and headed for the kitchen. Someone was wrong.

He stood in the kitchen door and stared. About a dozen ferrets were standing around another one lying beside the fireplace. One of the ferrets looked at Kirk and said, “Mister, he’s awful hurt. Can you help him?”

Kirk knelt down. It was the Sable who called himself Noah. Almost all of the young ferret’s fur was gone, and most of his body was horribly burned. He was breathing with difficulty.

The human slowly shook his head. “No, I don’t think I can. He’s not long for it.”

Noah managed to lift his head up and his eyes fluttered open. He whispered, “I slipped and fell. I’m sorry, Mister Kirk. I should have been more careful.”

Kirk managed to swallow the lump in his throat enough to reply, “I should have got up to fix your meal. I’m… sorry.”

Noah let his head fall back to the floor.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 4

Kirk buried the ferret in the back yard, next to the ferret room. He’d never been a religious sort, so when he’d finished filling the little grave, he stood silently for a few moments.

He looked up and saw that the windows to the ferret room were full of furry little faces. He couldn’t read the emotions, and he didn’t dare try and guess what they were all thinking.

Kirk had seen the fox hanging around the yard again. He covered the grave as best he could with the heaviest rocks he could find.

Kirk was up half of the night, howling and raging and throwing objects against the wall and cursing. He cursed himself for his weakness for drink; he cursed the previous owner of the house for leaving so much liquor behind. He cursed whatever gods were responsible for letting alcoholic beverages be discovered and who had somehow thought it would be a lark to let walking, talking, thinking ferrets loose in a world where they didn’t belong.

Why couldn’t the Sable ferret have waited a few days before telling Kirk his name? Putting a name to the little face made it even worse.

Eventually, Kirk made vows to God or to whoever was responsible that he would not touch another drop of liquor, and that he would empty all of the bottles of brandy and gin and ale into the kitchen sink. He probably meant all of these vows, and for some time he did not touch a drop of alcohol. But he never got round to emptying the bottles.

##########################

The next few weeks were pleasant ones. Kirk fixed his special stew for the ferrets, and he watched them grow to young adulthood. Leadership of the ferrets seemed to settle on a Cinnamon named Matthew, who did his best to makes friends with Kirk. The human was at least civil to the ferrets, and he seemed to get along with Matthew well enough. The ferrets practically devoured the books in the library, and Kirk soon found himself in the unique position of being taught to read by an animal. There was the quality of a fairy tale about it. Alas, Kirk was never one to take to reading in any depth, but he and his little teacher tried their best.

Occasionally Kirk took on a commission for ratting from one of the residents in the vicinity, and he’d take one of the older ferrets with him to root out mice or other vermin. More than once, Matthew said to the human, “When can we go ratting with you? We could do it as well as our parents – possibly better, because we can think.”

More than once Kirk considered it. But he was always anxious about the reactions of other humans to talking animals. So he always said, “Not yet. Someday, maybe.”

Matthew always watched Kirk when he fixed their stew. The ferret did this partly to learn how the human did this, but he also did this to keep an eye on Kirk. The bottles of liquor were still there, and Matthew saw how Kirk looked at them from time to time.

##########################

One day, Matthew sat down and had a talk with the other ferrets.

“He still has the urge to drink, and it’s getting stronger all the time. I can feel it. I don’t want to see him do that to himself. But I don’t see what we can do.”

A jill named Martha asked, “Why don’t we just get rid of the liquor? That way the temptation won’t be there.”

Matthew replied, “I’ve thought of that, but I don’t think we can do that. He has to make the decision to quit for himself. We wouldn’t help him by removing the liquor, and I’m certain that he’d get angry with us. There are other sources of alcohol around the village, and he’d only go there to get it.

“All we can do for him is to watch, and if he succumbs to the temptation, perhaps we can do something then. For now, my immediate concern is food. If he does start to drinking again, how will we get our meals?”

One of the Skippys spoke up then. “We’ve been thinking about that as well. We have an idea.”

It seemed to Matthew that only a certain kind of ferret took on the name Skippy. The Skippys were friendly and loyal to the rest of the ferrets, but they had become a law unto themselves. Compared to the rest, the Skippys were fiercely intelligent and were intensely interested in science and technology. Somewhere in the house they had come across reams of foolscap paper and ink pens, and they seemed to be writing down everything. Matthew had taken a look at their journals and found them to be impressive. “Skippy” seemed to be not so much a name as a title.

When a Skippy said that he had an idea, it was wise to listen.

Matthew said, “Go ahead and tell us.”

“I’ll be right back.” Skippy got up and went off to another part of the room and rummaged through a stack of foolscap. He soon came back with several drawings that he laid out on the floor.

“We figure that we ought to be ready to prepare our own food. Noah had the right idea, but regrettably he wasn’t prepared. What we figured is that we need some sort of scaffolding erected next to the cooking pot.” He pointed out a drawing of a spidery structure surrounding the stewpot. “This is a truss structure, like the humans use for bridges, but we’d make it out of iron rods instead of wood, so it wouldn’t burn. At the top would be a platform that would curve around the rim of the pot; this would be made of wood so it wouldn’t get hot and burn our feet.”

“Wouldn’t it burn, if it’s made of wood?”

“Some, perhaps. But we could monitor that. The important point is that the wood won’t carry the heat as well as iron. We’d also have a set of ferret-sized wooden steps attached to the truss so we could go up and down easily.”

Matthew studied the drawing. It looked like it might work, but he had questions. “I know that we’re as strong as humans – I can’t explain that, but we know it’s so – but this is still going to be heavy. Will we be able to push it around?”

“We’ve thought of that. We’ll attach wheels to this so we can just roll it along and up against the cooking pot.”

Another of the Skippys had joined them, and she said, “We believe that we can make it even easier to move around. We wouldn’t make it as a single structure, but as smaller pieces that we can take apart and put together. One ferret could carry it from one room to another, if he were given enough time.”

Matthew nodded. “We’d need special ladles with long handles. Had you already thought of that?” The Skippys nodded.

Skippy said, “Yes, we have, and we’re working on a design. Another problem will be getting water from the sink to the pot. We figure that we can use a pipe and a handpump to do that.”

Matthew looked around the ferret room. “Do we have enough material available to make this?”

Skippy nodded. “I believe we do. It would take time to make the separate parts, and we’d probably have to make our own tools. But we can do it. What do you think?” The Skippys, independent as they were, still deferred to the one they considered the leader of the ferrets.

Matthew could hear Kirk puttering around in another part of the house. So far, the human had remained sober. But he nodded and said, “It’s seems to be an excellent idea. You may get started whenever you’re ready.”

By the time one of the bottles of brandy went missing, the Skippys had already made great progress.

##########################

When Kirk woke up, something was different, but he couldn’t tell what it was at first. When he’d gotten his thoughts organized, he realized that he was smelling something different. Something in the kitchen. Something burning.


Ah, no. One of those little creatures had fallen in the fire again. Kirk rose out of bed and headed for the kitchen. But just before he reached the door, he realized that the smell wasn’t of something burning. It was something cooking.

He reached the door and stared into the kitchen.

The stewpot was merrily steaming away. On front of it was the most peculiar device he’d ever seen. It was a structure of some sort, supporting a platform that surrounded the rim of the stewpot. Two of the ferrets were on the platform, stirring the stew. A tube of some sort led from the sink to the pot, and two more ferrets were working a pump at the sink.

The smell was very familiar. Kirk was used to that smell. It had meant that he was cooking a fine batch of stew for the ferrets. For his babies.

The one called Matthew looked around and said, “Hello, Mr. Kirk! We’ve figured out a way to make our food now. How does it look?”

Kirk looked at the ferrets for a moment, and then a big grin spread over his face. He replied, “Fine! Fine, my young ones! You’re doing a superb job!”

Kirk sighed and said, a little more heartily than was necessary, “Well, I guess ye won’t be needin’ me, so I’ll be headin’ back for a nap!” He turned and headed for the door.

For some reason Matthew felt a little bit ashamed. Just as the human was about to leave the kitchen, the ferret spoke up. “Mr. Kirk?”

The human turned around. “Yes, me lad?”

“Are you hungry? We could try to cook you something.”

Kirk seemed to have trouble swallowing. “Thank ye, me lad. That’s a kind offer. Ye could try if ye want, but don’t go out of yer way. It can wait until I wake up.” He closed the door softly behind him.

##########################

It was a busy time for the ferrets. Some were learning to cook, and the Skippys were experimenting with the working of wood and metal. All of them took the time to read the books in the library.

But there was the outside world. The ferrets didn’t try to go outside, but they all sat at the windows from time to time to see the world go by.

One sunny day Jack and Janet, brother and sister, were sitting at the window, watching the birds and insects fly around the back yard. The grass and weeds were uncut, but had not yet grown to an alarming size.

Janet said, “I wish we could go outside. I’d like to walk around and see what the world is like.”

Jack replied, “Maybe we can someday. The others say that it’s dangerous out there, and we don’t want the humans to see us.”


“I know. But it’s so tempting.”

After a few moments, Jack said, “I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What’s that?”

“I know a way to get outside. I’ve been outside!”

Janet stared at him. “No, you haven’t! You’re fibbing!”

“No, I’m not.” He smiled at her. “I can show you!”

Her eyes were wide. “You’re been outside? Really?”

“Really. Here, I’ll show you! You just stay here and keep watch outside!” Jack jumped down and ran into another room.

Janet watched out the window. After a few moments, sure enough, there was Jack in the yard. He grinned from ear to ear, waving at her and dancing around.

Janet was fascinated and laughed at her brother’s silly antics. Then she noticed something moving nearby. It was large and red, and she realized that it must be the fox that the others had been talking about. It had seen Jack.

Things happened too fast.

##########################

Matthew was in the library studying an atlas with his friend Enos when they heard the scream coming from the other room. They rushed through the door to find a group of ferrets gathering under the window sill. Huddled on the sill was a young ferret named Janet, howling and wailing. Matthew climbed up the sill and knelt beside her. He anxiously asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Tears were rolling down her face as she sobbed and gasped, “Jack – my brother – outside –” She began to wail again.

Matthew looked out the window. The fox was out in the back yard in clear view. It was eating something, some small animal –

Matthew’s blood ran cold.

“My brother, he – he said he knew a way to get outside. He went out to show me – and then – and then – that – that – creature –”

Enos climbed up beside Matthew and gasped as he looked out the window. He bent down and gathered the young ferret close to him. Soon his shoulder was wet with her tears.

Enos looked at his friend and said, “What do we do now, Matthew?”

Matthew said nothing for a few moments. He was doing his best not to glance out the window. Finally he said, “I think Jack had the right idea. We can’t stay in here forever.”

Enos replied thoughtfully, “No, we can’t. We’ve done well so far, but we’ll soon run out of room. And outside – there’s a whole world out there. We have to go out and explore it.”

“But not if we have to worry about our safety the moment we step out the door.”

Matthew told himself that it wasn’t the fox’s fault. It was a predator, and it was only doing what it had to to survive. That was the way of nature. But fighting back was also the way of nature. “We’ll have to do something about the fox.”

Janet had settled down to whimpering as Enos held her close. He asked, “How do we do that? Do you have an idea, Matthew?”

“Yes, I do.” He called down to the ferrets. “Skippy?”

Skippy stepped forward. “Yes, Matthew?”

“Can you make weapons? Some sort of swords and perhaps some spears?”

Skippy thought for a moment and nodded. “I’m certain of it. We can take some knives from the kitchen and sharpen them against some stone. There are some iron nails here. We can cut the heads off and attach the shanks to some wooden dowels to make spears. It shouldn’t be difficult. Shall I get the Skippys started on those?”

“Yes. I think we’ll set a trap for the fox.”

Janet raised her head and looked at Matthew. Her voice was steady as she said, “Let me help.”

Enos said, “Is that a good idea, little one? You’re upset now, and you’re young. It may be dangerous.”

Janet continued to look at Matthew.

“Let me help.”

Matthew looked back at her and said nothing. He simply nodded.

##########################

It was a beautiful spring day. The sky was a deep blue and the air was warm. The grass in the back yard of the ratter’s cottage waved gently in the breeze.

Janet paid no attention to the lovely day. She stood in the yard, looking at nothing in particular, as if she were waiting for something.

Someone had spotted him wandering around the yard, so she’d come out to wait. She didn’t have to wait long.

At the far end of the yard, the fox appeared. He saw the young ferret and crouched down, staring at her. Janet looked back at him. She wanted to scream at the fox, to run toward it. But she didn’t. She simply stood her ground and looked at him steadily.

The fox eyed her warily. After a few moments, he began to trot toward her.

It was a straight path to the ferret, and the fox’s eyes never left her as he trotted faster.

Still Janet did not move. She stood and watched the fox come closer.

Soon the fox was running toward her, and he was very close. He held his mouth open in anticipation. He would reach her in only a few seconds.

Six other ferrets jumped up from behind the tall grass alongside the pathway. All were armed with sharpened knives or miniature nail-shaft spears. They jumped at the fox and swung their weapons over their heads.

The fox went down, howling at the pain. He swung his head around and snapped at the creatures around him, but the ferrets easily jumped out of the way and came back to stab again and again.

Janet sighed. She sniffed the warm air and looked up at the deep blue sky. There would be time to enjoy all of this later.

For now, she picked up her own spear and leaped forward.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 5

The people in Wold Newton would be hard-pressed to account for the friendship between Widow Gytha and Granny Esme. There was little similarity between the two elderly ladies. Granny Esme, who had had many husbands in her life – some of them her own – was a round, boisterous lady with a handful of teeth in her head, given to plenty of cider and laughing loudly. Widow Gytha was thin, prim and not given to quite as much loud laughter as her friend. She didn’t have any more teeth than Esme, but she didn’t advertise the fact.

Still, the friendship was there and it obviously ran deep. The two women had known each other for years, and were seldom seen out of each other’s company.

The good spring weather had continued for several days now, and Gytha and Esme were walking side by side down the dirt road leading beside the ratter Kirk’s cottage. They’d been discussing the ill health of Wold Newton’s old vicar, Father Clapsattle, but now the topic of conversation was changed.

Granny Esme said, “By the by, have you seen the ratter lately? He hasn’t been out much that I seen.”

The Widow replied, “Nor as I’ve seen, either. I went by his home the other day to ask about a mouse problem in my cellar. It took him forever to answer the door, and when he did he looked terrible. Said he’d been sick.” She sniffed like she did when she registered disapproval. “He certainly didn’t smell of sickness to me.”

Esme nodded gravely. “I know what you mean. I came across him and I know how he smelled. The bottle holds his attention now, it seems, poor man.”

Widow Gytha nodded. Granny’s fondness for cider was another thing entirely. Then she noticed something ahead. “What is that hanging from the ratter’s fence?”

Granny Esme could see what she was talking about. “Looks like a pelt of some sort.” It was red, and beneath hung a red tail with a white tip.

“A pelt it is, indeed! I believe it might be from a fox!” The two women stopped by the fence to look more closely.

Esme held up the tail and examined the pelt. “It is a fox! All cleaned and dressed quite nicely, too!” She looked more closely. “Wouldn’t do anyone any good, though. All sorts of little holes in it. Stab wounds, like.”

“Odd way to kill a fox. That must be its skull resting on the fencepost. Do you know, I wonder if this is the creature that’s been bothering my hens? I lost several chicks last week.”

Granny Esme let the pelt hang down again. “If it ain’t, it’s a close relative. Do you think the ratter did this?”

“Well, if he did, he’s done the village a favor, I think. This is one less pest around here. Perhaps he’s not as far gone as we thought.”

Esme shook her head. “Could be. Still, he has some jobs to do with the mice and rats. I hope he pulls himself out of whatever he’s in and gets back to his work.” She looked at the house. She could have sworn that she’d seen a small head looking at them out one of the windows, but it wasn’t there now.

Matthew and Enos watched the two humans continue on down the road. Enos turned to his friend and said, “Did you hear that?”

Matthew nodded. “Yes. It seems that Mister Kirk is needed. Something has to be done to help these people take care of the vermin.”

“Mr. Kirk’s in no condition to take on the task, though. I wish we could do something to help him.”

Matthew nodded. He got along fairly well with Kirk, and they occasionally had a civil conversation. But if Matthew brought up the subject of excessive drinking, the human would lose his temper. The ferret had learned to dodge an empty bottle and flee the room.

“We can’t force him to stop drinking. I don’t think it would do any good. We could empty all of the liquor bottles while he’s asleep, but I’m afraid of what he’ll do then. We can only leave him alone and hope that he confronts his problems on his own. I don’t like it, but what else can we do?”

Enos looked out the window. “I agree. But for now, what can we do about the ratting?”

The ferrets had come to look to Matthew as their leader, and he’d found the position to be the most natural thing in the world for him. “I’ve thought of that. I think that we ought to go out on our own to do the ratting.”

“Do you think that the humans will accept us as ratters?”

“Well, now, perhaps we can do this so that they don’t really know it’s us.”

“What, do it discreetly? Sneak into their houses without them knowing and dispatching the rats and the like?” Enos thought for a moment. “Yes. Yes, I think we can do it that way, if you want. It would make things easier for us, certainly. Do we have enough weapons to do it?”

“I think so. The Skippys can always make more; we have plenty of materials to work with.”

“We may need more, Matthew. There are more foxes out there than this one. And other creatures, too. We’ll have to protect ourselves.”

“Yes, we will. The world out there can be dangerous, but I think it’s worth the risk. Besides, I think we can go out hunting now.”

“That’s a good idea. To be honest, I rather liked the taste of fox meat. Do you think we can get some recompense from the humans for ridding them of vermin?”

“We ought to, but I’m not sure how without compromising our privacy.”

Enos looked at the red fox pelt dangling from the fence. “I have an idea about that.”

##########################

Granny Esme sipped her tea and placed the cup down. “I tell you, Gytha, I’ve never seen the like! A whole row of tiny little pelts on my front stoop, cleaned and dressed as neat as you please! And a skull right on top of each one! Mice pelts they were, with several rat pelts along with ‘em! Swear to God!”

Widow Gytha nodded. “I believe you. I found the same thing on my front stoop this morning. They had to be the ones infesting my cellar. We’ll see, but I’m willing to bet that I won’t hear noises in the night anymore.”

“Strange way to rid a household of pests.”

“As strange as the way that fox was killed. I’d say, Esme, that somehow our Mr. Kirk is back on the ratting job.”

“Him, maybe.” Granny Esme sipped some more tea. “Or something close to him.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well… As I was standing there on my stoop, admiring the artistry and handiwork, as you might say, I happened to look up, and I swear that just a little ways away, at the edge of my garden, I saw a little creature, standing there and watching me.”

Widow Gytha had an odd expression on her face. “A creature? A pixie, perhaps?”

“Noo, not one of the Wee Folk. This creature was furred. I couldn’t see it too well, but I thought it might be a polecat or weasel, standing on its hind legs and looking back at me.” She leaned forward. “And here’s one for you. Just before it disappeared, it waved at me! And me not having a drop of cider since yesterday! It’s the honest truth!”

Widow Gytha deliberately picked up her teacup and took a sip before replying, “I believe you, Esme. I saw a creature just like that in my yard this morning, too.” She put her cup down. “And, yes, it waved at me, too.”

“Really?! What did you do?”

“Really, the only thing I could do. I waved back.”

Granny Esme cackled. “Always pays to be polite.” She thought for a moment. “Think we ought to leave payment at the ratter’s house?”

Widow Gytha nodded. “As usual. It seems like a good idea. A brace of coneys would be welcome, I think.”

##########################

The ferrets were busy. Some were in the library, studying some of the many books. Others were in the kitchen, cleaning up from making the day’s stew.

Matthew looked around the ferret room. Some of the Skippys were shaping more hunting weapons and miniature tools. They had little in the way of resources, but they were doing an excellent job with what there was. Others were busy writing, writing, writing. They’d already filled reams of foolscap with their journals and notes. Matthew walked over to the one that he thought of as the Leader of the Skippys. He said, “How’s the supply of paper holding up?”

She looked up from her writing and replied, “We’re fine. There are plenty of blank pages on the teacher’s study. Ink is low, but we’re experimenting on making our own. The supply of foolscap is finite, however. Folks are taking notes from what they read in the human books, which is a good idea, but that’s more paper being used right there. The problem is something that we’ll have to address one day.”

Matthew nodded. He’d been thinking about that, but had yet to come up with a satisfactory answer.

There was a crash and a bellow from the kitchen, and Matthew rushed to investigate.

Kirk, filthy, unshaven and unshorn, stinking of alcohol, had come out of his bedroom and was swaying on his feet. He shouted again, “Where’s the booze? There ain’t hardly any left! What have you animals done with the liquor?” He fixed one bloodshot eye on Matthew and said, “Ye’ve been gettin’ rid of it, haven’t ya? Ye’ve poured it down the sink, eh? Tryin’ to deprive me of me drink? Ye ungrateful little wretches!” He staggered toward Matthew, but he could barely keep to his feet and stopped.

The other ferrets in the kitchen had backed away from the human, and those that hadn’t ducked behind the furniture were pressed against the walls. By themselves in the middle of the room were Kirk and Matthew.

Matthew held up his paws and spoke carefully. “No, Mister Kirk, I’m afraid you’re wrong. We’ve not touched your liquor. We’d never touch it. I promise you that.”

“Then where is it?!”

“I’m – I’m afraid you’ve drunken almost all of it, sir.”

Kirk glowered at the ferret. He couldn’t seem to decide what to do. He muttered, “I ain’t drunk that much!” But there was no conviction behind the declaration.

He finally said, “We’ll have to get more.”

Matthew said, “Sir, I don’t know –”

“I said we’ll have to get more!” Kirk turned and staggered toward the bedroom door.

Matthew turned around and saw Enos behind him. Matthew was shaking his head when there was a loud thump.

The human hadn’t made it to the bedroom before he’d fallen down. He lay now in the doorway, groaning and retching.

The ferrets rushed over to Kirk. Matthew was used to the stench of the human’s vomit, but this time the smell was different. The refuse looked different as well, much darker. Kirk was vomiting blood.

“Let’s clean him up as best we can and get him in his bed!”

##########################

When Kirk woke up, his stomach was knotted with intense pain. The effect of the drink had subsided and his head felt clearer than it had in a long while. He looked over and was not surprised to see the one called Matthew sitting next to him on the bed. The sheets were damp and smelled horrible, so it couldn’t have been comfortable for the little creature.

Kirk whispered, “I’m thirsty.”

“Water only.” The ferret had a mug of liquid sitting beside him, and he raised it to Kirk’s lips. The human sipped some of the water, and his stomach raged. But he kept it down.

The ferret set the mug down and the human looked at him for a few moments. Finally he said, “I was angry at you.”

Matthew replied, “Yes, you were.”

“Did I hurt anyone?”

“No.”

“Just meself. Over alcohol.” Kirk was surprised at how bitter he suddenly felt. “Done this to meself, haven’t I?”

Matthew shook his head. “No, sir. We’re responsible. You started drinking after we came along. Sir, I do apologize and I deeply regret the harm we’ve caused.”

“No – no it weren’t your doin’s. You didn’t make yerselves the way you are. You were just born, that’s all. Please don’t blame yerselves.” Kirk paused as his stomach heaved. “I just didn’t handle it well, didn’t handle it well at all.”

The human felt like crying. “Ye were my children. My babies. And I turned me back on ye. I should’ve helped you. Should’ve done something. But I ran away. Ran away to demon rum.”

“I don’t know what you could have done to help us. We’ve done well on our own.”

“So you have, little one. Y’know what?” The thought hadn’t occurred to Kirk before, but he realized with surprise that it was true. “I proud of ye. Very proud.” He reached out his hand. He couldn’t reach far. He was so weak. “Forgive me.”

Matthew reached out and placed his paw on Kirk’s hand. The human and ferret looked deeply into one another’s eyes.

Matthew smiled. “There’s nothing to forgive. For either of us.”

Kirk smiled weakly. “Yeah. Right. That’s the way it is, then.” He let his hand drop. “Kind of chilly.”

“Let me.” Matthew pulled the coverlet up to the human’s chin and tucked him in. “That ought to help.”

“It does, thanks.” Kirk sighed. “I need some sleep. I’ll get a good night’s sleep, get this poison out of me system. Tomorrow I’ll be better. Start over again, we will! Best rattin’ business in all of England, we’ll be!” The human grinned.

“Yes, sir. Tomorrow is a new day. You get some sleep now.”

“Right. Good night, Matthew.”

“Good night, Mister Kirk.”

The ferret jumped off the bed and left, gently closing the door behind him. Matthew tried not to think about it, but he thought he knew what he’d find the next morning.

##########################

A group of ferrets stood on the bed, surrounding the human who lay there. Kirk’s eyes were open slightly, but if he was looking at anything, no one else could or would see it.

Matthew leaned over and closed Kirk’s eyes. He then stepped back and tried to think of something to say. They owed the human that much.

Finally he said, “Goodbye, Mister Kirk. Thank you for all that you’ve done.”

For a few moments, the ferrets were silent. Finally Enos said, “What do we do now?”

Matthew looked at the human for a long time before he said, “I think the first thing we need to do is clean him up.”

##########################

Father Gerald Granger had been appointed to take the place of the late Father Clapsattle, and he’d had to admit to a feeling of disappointment. From what he could determine, Wold Newton had little or nothing to distinguish it, beyond the recent descent from the heavens of a stone of some sort. Granger was used to the activity and the bustle of a city like London, and a small village promised to be dull.

Still, one didn’t refuse an assignment, and the Bishop had told him that even the smallest of parishes had its share of crises. So a spiritual presence would be needed. Wold Newton turned out to be a nice enough place, the Vicarage was happily free from rodents, and the folk were friendly to the new Vicar. Father Granger only had to wait a few days for his first crisis, if it could have been called that.

It was a little before dawn when someone knocked loudly on the front door of the Vicarage; Father Granger was still in bed. He got up, remembering not to grumble too loudly, put on a robe and stumbled to the door. He opened to discovered two elderly ladies on his front stoop.

Father Granger could be cheerful on short notice, always a good trait for a churchman. “Widow Gytha! Granny Esme! How nice to see you this, um, early of a morning! What can I do for you?”

The two ladies looked at one another, and by some tacit agreement, the Widow Gytha took the lead. She said, “We apologize deeply for disturbing you so early, Vicar, but we’ve discovered something at the Church that needs your attention immediately.”

He replied, “And what is this that you have discovered?”

Granny Esme replied, “We think that you should see for yourself.”

Father Granger couldn’t be certain, but they sounded serious. “If you will but wait, ladies, I’ll get dressed and come with you to the church.”


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 6

The man lying in front of the altar looked so peaceful, with his arms folded on his chest. Father Granger had not seen him before. He looked thoughtfully down at the man and asked the ladies, “And this is the ratter named Kirk, you say?”

Gytha replied, “Indeed, Vicar. You wouldn’t have met him. He’d never been a church-going man and had, shall we say, kept to himself lately.”

“I have heard of him, nonetheless.” Father Granger looked more closely at the man. “Do you think that there has been foul play in his death?”

Esme replied, “The village doctor shall have to examine him, of course, but I think it’s doubtful. Wouldn’t you agree, Gytha?”

Her companion nodded. “I do, Esme. If any violence has been done to Mister Kirk’s person, it was self-inflicted. By the contents of a great many bottles, specifically.”

The Vicar said, “I had heard as much, and it saddens me. It seems that someone has taken much trouble to prepare him after he died.”

Gytha replied, “They certainly have. He has been shaven and his hair has been cut, quite neatly, and his body was washed. Whoever it was, they even took the time to clean and mend his clothing.” She sniffed. “Alas, no amount of bathing would suffice to remove the smell of alcohol. That’s ingrained too well into his body.”

“So someone treated his body with great respect when they brought him here. Was there no indication as to who did this?”

The two women looked at each other and said nothing for a few moments. Then Granny Esme said, “Well, we can’t be sure, mind you, but we discussed it on the way to the Vicarage, and…” The continued quietly, “We think it may have been the Wee Folk.”

Father Granger did not laugh or scoff. There was that much to say about him. “What, do you mean – fairies?”

Gytha replied, “No, not fairies. I’m not sure I believe in them. These aren’t fairies, or pixies, or demons. They’re real, flesh-and-blood creatures. Small, fur-covered, but they walk on their hind legs. They keep to themselves, but some of us – Esme and I, at least – have glimpsed them from time to time.”

Esme said, “And polite they are. They always wave at Gytha and me.”

“Indeed. As best as we can figure, they’re centered around the ratter’s old cottage. One thing is for certain, someone is continuing Mister Kirk’s old job, exterminating pests and the like. And they do it quite well, we can assure you.”

“H’m. I had noticed a distinct lack of mice around the Vicarage. And I could have sworn that I saw… Well, then, did these Wee Folk leave any sign that they’d been here?”

Widow Gytha said, “Oh, yes, I’d quite forgotten! We found a note with the body, and it’s addressed to you, Vicar!” The widow pulled a folded piece of paper from her sleeve and handed it to him.

On the outside was printed TO FATHER GERALD GRANGER, in a small but very neat hand. Granger looked at it and asked, “Do either of you know what this says?”

Widow Gytha solemnly said, “No, Vicar, I don’t read other people’s mail without permission."

Granny Esme said, “Neither do I. It’s not polite.”

Gytha said, not unkindly, “It makes it easier for you that you can’t read.”

Her old friend replied, “True enough.”

Granger unfolded the paper and read it through. The two ladies waited and tried not to look too anxious.

The Vicar finally looked up and said, “An interesting note, this. Yes, very interesting indeed. Shall I read it to you?” The two women nodded. He cleared his throat and read.

“Father Gerald Granger,

“We leave Mister Kirk in your hands and we ask that you give him a proper burial. He was a good man, but he was confronted with a situation for which he was unprepared, and he reacted to it poorly. He attempted to find comfort in alcohol, and it eventually took his life. We deeply regret this, but it was something that we could not prevent. Please remember him with respect.

“We will continue Mister Kirk’s work as exterminator and do pledge by this that we will continue to keep Wold Newton and the nearby environs free of pests and vermin. We do claim his cottage as ours, and we ask that our privacy is respected; we do not ask for visitors and we do not want to be disturbed. We will keep the cottage and the property in the best repair. We can hunt for our own food, but the occasional brace of hares or pheasants will be welcomed.

“Please consider the offer that we are making. We mean you no harm and we expect no harm to be done to us. Make a decision one way or another, and come to Mister Kirk’s cottage after his funeral, stand in the yard and tell us your decision; we will hear you.

“Respectfully,

“THE WEE FOLK”

Granger looked over the document and said, “Yes, indeed, quite remarkable.”

Esme asked, “What do you think, Vicar?”

“Well, it requires some thought. I’ll have to ask around and see what others think. You ladies consider this, and – hello, what’s this? There’s a postscript.”

Gytha couldn’t conceal her eagerness. “What does it say?”

“It says –” Father Granger laughed.

“It says, ‘I’ve been asked to request as much foolscap as you can spare. Sooner or later, we’ll need plenty of it!’”

The Vicar grinned at the two ladies and said, “I think that I like these Wee Folk.”

##########################

Over the next two days, Father Granger went around the village and called upon all of the inhabitants. He asked a few questions about ratter Kirk, gathering the memories of the man. Everyone seemed to have something nice to say about him, or at least they were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, given his recent decline. At the same time, the Vicar made discreet references to each person about the Wee Folk. If the person did not express disbelief or scorn – or outright condemnation – he would bring up the proposed bargain. Given all the results, he thought a lot about how he would respond.

All of the village of Wold Newton seemed to turn up for ratter Kirk’s funeral. Father Granger gave a eulogy based on most people’s comments about him. With all of the words, it all came down to one statement that most everyone seemed to agree on: Kirk the ratter was a good man.

All through the service, the Vicar was certain that he was being watched by hidden beings. At one point, he thought he saw a small form duck behind an old tombstone, but he was never sure.

The day after the funeral, Widow Gytha and Granny Esme walked with the Vicar to Kirk’s cottage. He was glad for the company, but when they came to the yard, it was him and him alone who walked up to the front door; it could be no other way.

He was a little nervous. He knew that he felt little eyes watching him from behind dark windows. But he felt no malice.

Father Gerald Granger cleared his throat and said, simply, “We accept your offer.”

The next morning, the village of Wold Newton woke up and was astonished to find the carcasses of three animals in the village square: two large wild boars and the most magnificent stag that anyone had ever seen. By tacit consent, a holiday was declared and the carcasses were cooked to a proper turn. Everyone enjoyed the fine meat. The portion that was left on the front stoop of the ratter’s cottage was some of the best meat of all.

The Pact had begun.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 7

May, 1855

Father Gerald Granger had found that by taking slow, shallow breaths, the pain in his chest was bearable. His heart had troubled him for years, but the pain wasn’t going away this time. He knew what that meant, and he guessed that it would come soon. He was under the constant care of his maidservant now. Jennifer bathed him, fed him that fine stew of hers, kept him comfortable in bed and tended to his every need, without the least complaint. He’d decided that she qualified as an angel on Earth.

Jennifer came in to his bedroom and smiled. She cheerfully asked, “Good afternoon, Vicar! Care to sit up for awhile?” She didn’t need to ask how he felt.

“Good day to you, Jennifer. Yes, I do believe that sitting up is a good idea.” She carefully lifted him up and propped him up with several soft, sweet-smelling pillows. When she’d got him settled to her satisfaction – and he was quite comfortable – she opened the drapes to the bedroom window and said, “You have a visitor, Vicar. May I show him in?”

“Really? Few people do want to visit me nowadays. Who is it, my dear?”

Jennifer’s smile turned soft. “You’ve never met the gentleman before, Vicar. I think you’ll very much want to see him. Do come in, sir.”

Father Granger saw nobody enter the room. But there was a pattering of little feet along the floor, approaching the bed. Suddenly a small animal jumped up on the coverlet and stood on its hind legs, looking at him.

To the Vicar’s surprise, it spoke. “How do you do, Father Granger? My name is David.”

Jennifer said, “I’ll leave you two alone,” and gently closed the door behind her.

Granger stared at the little animal for several seconds before he said, “You’re one of the Wee Folk, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am, Father.”

"So the Wee Folk are ferrets. Astonishing!”

“I’m sure it is, Vicar, although you have seen us before.”

“Yes. Yes, I have. Just glimpses here and there over the years.” He looked closely at David. “You’re not servants of the Devil, are you?”

David knew how serious the question was, which was not at all, and he smiled. “No, Father, we aren’t. You have my word.”

Granger nodded. “Quite so. I had to ask, though. It’s part of my job, really. That leaves the question – what are you?”

“We don’t know, Vicar. We just are. And we can talk, and we can think. Believe me when I say that we’ve tried to find out where we came from. The best we can say is that we were simply born this way, in early 1796. It might have something to do with the meteor.”

“Oh, yes, the meteor. That fell the year before, didn’t it? Perhaps it carried a germ of some sort. Or – magic? I’m not sure I believe in magic. In any case, it would mean that you were a gift from Heaven.”

“It seems as good an explanation as any.”

Father Granger took a deep breath. “I am indeed honored to finally make your acquaintance. If you’d waited much longer, you might have missed me.”

“I know, Father. I regret that deeply, for your sake.”

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself. I’ve lead a full life, more than my allotted Threescore and Ten. Do you usually visit the dying?”

“Sometimes. If we like the person. Not all of the people in this village believe in our existence, and if they do, some think of us as evil. But there have been some – some like you – that we do want to talk to just before their time comes. Widow Gytha and Granny Esme were two such.”

“I would imagine. They must have liked that.”

“They did. Granny Esme was enormously happy to meet me, and she shared some of her cider with me. I visited Widow Gytha when she came down with cholera three years ago, and she said that it gave her much comfort.”

“I’m certain it – hang on.” Granger frowned at David. “I remember the Widow’s bout with cholera. She recovered completely.”

“Yes, she did. We both thought that it was her time, and we were mistaken. I don’t believe that the Widow Gytha complained.”

Father Granger gave out with a wheezy laugh, followed by some coughing. David looked alarmed. “Vicar, I’m sorry for the distraction. I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“Nonsense, my friend. Pain is a small price to pay for the joy of laughter. And you got to visit her again two years later, I would guess.”

“Yes, I did. We’d kept in close touch until then. We talked long and of many things. She taught me much about humans and about the sort of things that you don’t learn from books. I feel that the knowledge is quite valuable.”

“Oho, you’re a scholar, I take it?”

David smiled. “Yes, I suppose I am.” A faraway look came to the dark little eyes. “I – love to learn things. I and my friends have traveled all around the vicinity, looking at plants and animals. It’s such a big, fascinating, exciting world! Widow Gytha taught me much about plant lore as well.”

“She was quite the herbalist. Have you found the information useful?”

“Some has been. My friends and I have done some extensive testing of the herbs that the Widow told me about. Actually, some of the plants don’t do what they’re supposed to. But some do, and we’ve managed to put together a reliable herbiary. We’re very proud of it.”

The Vicar looked at the ferret for a moment. “Was it you that helped to cure young Dorothea last year?”

“The blacksmith’s daughter? Yes, I admit that it was. It took some time to bring down her fever and draw out the infection, but it wasn’t difficult if you knew the correct herbs to use.”

David said softly, “I know that there are compounds to use for heart conditions, but we’re only now learning how to work with them. I’m terribly sorry, Father Granger. You must realize how much I want to help.”

“I know. I understand. And I appreciate the thought so much. I’ve made my peace with the world and am ready to go to my final resting place. I hope that I’m not judged too harshly for my sins.”

“I don’t think that you will be, Father. You’re a good man.”

“Thank you. Whatever the case, I feel honored for having met you.”

“And I for having met you, Father.”

Human and ferret clasped hand and paw.

“I must leave you now, Father. You must rest.”

“Yes, rest. May God go with you and yours.”

David jumped down and walked out the door. Jennifer was waiting in the living room and curtsied to the ferret.

David said, “I’ll be back to see him when I can, but I’m afraid…” He didn’t finish.

She replied, “I know. The new Vicar is already on his way here.”

“Indeed? I’ll be interested in seeing what kind of man he is. One can hope he’s as kind a man as Father Granger.”

“I’m sure he is.” Jennifer hesitated. “Mister David? Before you go, I wanted – I want to say again – my sister’s daughter – well, thank you again.”

David smiled. “You’re very welcome. Again. She’s such a sweet girl. How is she?”

“Oh, she’s doing wonderful now! Laughing and playing and so full of energy! And she always talks about the furry creature that came to visit!” The maidservant looked down at the little ferret. “You saved her life, Mister David. There’s nothing I think we could ever do to repay you.”

“All I ask is that you’re always kind to others.” And David went on his way.

That night, Vicar Gerald Granger of the Wold Newton parish died peacefully in his sleep.

##########################

Jennifer cleaned the Vicarage every day. Even though Father Granger had been one of the tidiest men she’d ever had the privilege of meeting, she liked the daily ritual. She was just finishing cleaning three days after he’d passed on when there was a knock at the front door.

That had to be the new Vicar. Jennifer gave one last look around the room and was satisfied with the job; she wanted to make a good impression on the man. There was a second, more insistent knock before she opened the door. Oh, dear, an impatient man. Somehow that didn’t bode well.

Jennifer opened the door to a tall, thin man whose face registered a look of disapproval. She didn’t take it personally. She’d known men like this, and they always seemed to disapprove of everything within sight. Personal or not, this boded even less well.

Worst of all, he wasn’t alone. With him was one of the least popular people in Wold Newton – Old Lady DeFarge. She was short and fat and dressed nowhere nearly as attractively as she liked to think. But very few people in the village had the courage to tell her that to her face. She seemed to disapprove of everything in sight as well, but she did it by smiling. The look on her face said that not only did she find you wanting, but that she was a better person than you and she was gloating about it. And she wasn’t afraid to tell people how she felt – about other people, that is.

Lady DeFarge had apparently gotten to the new Vicar the minute he arrived, and had been bending his ear even since. Not that he looked like his ear needed that much bending. Jennifer realized that there would be trouble, indeed.

Faced with these two disagreeable people, Jennifer made the ideal response. She curtsied and smiled as sweetly as she could. “Good afternoon, Lady DeFarge, and you, sir, might be –”

He abruptly replied, “I am Father Follio, girl, and I’m the new Vicar. I’m here to clear the sin from this town, and from what the dear Lady has been telling me, I’m going to have my work cut out for me.”

Jennifer looked puzzled. “Sin, sir? Here in Wold Newton? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. There’s sin here, as there is everywhere, but nothing as serious as you make it sound, I’m sure.”

Lady DeFarge let out with a small, “Ha!” Then Jennifer remembered how the Lady felt about certain residents of the village. Her heart went numb.

Father Follio narrowed his eyes. “Nothing serious? Not from what I’ve heard! I’ve just been informed of a veritable nest of demons living here!”

“Demons, sir?” It was becoming harder for Jennifer to keep up the polite front.

“Talking animals, girl! Unnatural creatures! God has not given tongue to – to weasels! Do you deny that such creatures exist here?”

Jennifer’s voice went cold, but she didn’t care. “Yes, there are talking animals here, sir. But they’re not evil, they’re kind creatures! They’ve done much good for us. They keep away pests! They’ve repaired our houses – this Vicarage is in great shape because of them! And they help the sick –”

“Devil’s work!” Follio thundered. “Satan works in maliciously subtle ways! He will help you in material ways, all the time weaving a trap. And do you know what the trap is for? Your soul! These creatures will harvest souls, unless a man of God can stop them!”

“Ha!” from Lady DeFarge.

Jennifer whispered, “My sister’s daughter – they saved her life, they did.”

Follio vigorously shook his head. “Better to die with a sick body than to live with a sick soul. These demonic creatures have a hold on her soul now. She’ll have to be exorcised. I can see that there’s no help for it.” He turned to Lady DeFarge. “Indeed, most of the village may have fallen under their influence by now. I’ll have much to do.”

“As I told you, Vicar,” Lady DeFarge replied. Her smile was one of – it was the only word that applied – unholy glee. Jennifer stared at her and loathed her.

Father Follio turned to Jennifer, “You, girl, are you the maidservant for this Vicarage?”

Jennifer smiled as sweetly as she could manage and replied, “If you’ll wait here a moment, sir.” She shut the front door, and Father Follio and Lady DeFarge waited on the stoop.

Shortly the door opened again, and Jennifer came out. She was wearing her bonnet and was placing her shawl around her shoulders. She stopped and stood nose to nose with Father Follio. Jennifer snapped at him, “Not anymore, I’m not!” She paused long enough to give Lady DeFarge a scowl that would peel the whitewash off of a wall and began to walk briskly down the road toward the blacksmith’s shop. She’d have to talk to her brother-in-law about this. He’ll be very much interested.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 8

David gently picked up the little bug with his fingers and looked closely at it. He had just about come to the conclusion that whatever outside force had created the Universe, he, she or it had been inordinately fond of beetles.

The ferret was indulging in his favorite pastime, sitting on the grass in the back garden and examining whatever plant or animal life could catch his fancy. Sometimes, if the creature was unique, he’d sketch it out as best he could in a small notebook. But today, he’d left his writing equipment in the house, and he was simply idling away the bright, warm day by studying nature. The beetle he was looking at now was a lovely thing, with a bright orange carapace with black spots. He may have seen it before, but he wasn’t sure.

David was abruptly drenched with water, and he dropped the beetle. He sat there, soaking wet and sputtering, for a moment and then turned around to see who the prankster was.

It was a thin man, dressed in severe black and holding a medium-sized flask. He didn’t look capable of playing a prank on anyone. David snarled, “What was that about? Who are you and what do you think you’re doing?”

The stranger’s voice boomed, “I am Follio, demon, and I am your Nemesis! I have come here to do battle with you and your kind! You have felt the touch of Holy Water, and I know it burns your diabolical skin!” The stranger’s eyes glittered and he smiled a tight little smile. “The Water pains you, doesn’t it, demon? Do you feel the fire of God’s holy wrath?” He pointed a bony finger. “Admit it, it burns you!”

“No, it doesn’t!” David wiped some water off of his face. “It’s cold!” He looked at the stranger for a moment. “You’re the new Vicar, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am here in this village to take on the work neglected by the previous Vicar. He was obviously not strong enough to fight you and your wicked kin. He was too weak to resist your spells. But I am not!” He held up a crucifix. “I will break your hold on these people and send you back to the the hot place you came from! You are strong enough to resist the pain of the Holy Water, but you will not resist the True Cross!” Follio moved forward.

“Vicar.”

David and the Vicar looked around. The man standing at the garden gate was short and stocky. He had almost no neck at all. Rufus Moody was of the tough, solid stock of humanity that was scattered across the length and breadth of Great Britain. He spoke slowly and quite possibly thought at just about the same speed. In a way, he looked as if he disapproved of everything under the Sun, but he also looked like he’d put up with most of it if he had to – but that didn’t mean he liked it.

Father Follio said, “Ah, yes, you’re the blacksmith, are you not?”

Moody nodded. “Aye, I am. My wife’s sister told me you’d be here.”

Follio smiled. “Very good! You’re just in time to watch as I confront this spawn of the Devil! It will be instructive to the preservation of your immortal Soul, no doubt, so I ask that you pay attention.” The Vicar started to turn back to David.

Moody rumbled. “That creature saved my daughter’s life when she came down sick. You’re the one, I know, Mr. Weasel. I saw you in her bedroom just as you were finishing up.” David nodded.

Follio said, “I am glad to hear that, brother. Hopefully you interrupted him before he had time to completely enslave your daughter’s Soul. I can yet save her. But for now –”

“For now, you’ll not touch a hair on that creature’s body.”

Follio hissed. “What!? I am God’s authority here, and I say –”

Moody walked forward and stood directly in front of the Vicar. “I said – you’ll not harm a hair on that creature’s body. I’ve come here to see that you don’t.”

Father Follio opened his mouth to protest, until he realized that the top of his head didn’t quite reach Rufus Moody’s shoulder; the blacksmith only looked short. He looked up into the hard, solid eyes of the other man, and had the rare insight that his faith in God provided him with a strong suit of armor, but it wasn’t a physical suit of armor.

Moody looked down and said, “Leave these creatures be, Vicar.”

Follio moved carefully sideways until he was between Moody and the garden gate. He then turned and briskly walked toward the gate. Just before he left the garden, the Vicar turned and, with the advantage of distance, said, “I will rid the village of these demonic creatures. And you, blacksmith, will answer to the Lord for your actions!”

Moody said, “I reckon that’s between Him and me.”

“I will call a meeting at the Church tonight. I will invite all of the villagers to attend. Those who have not fallen under these beasts’ spell – those that want to do something about them – will come. We will decide on a course of action.” He turned and walked down the road.

Rufus Moody watched the Vicar until he disappeared from sight. He then turned to David, gave a silent nod and left himself.

David continued to watch the road after both humans were gone from sight. Two other ferrets, a hob with a piece of paper and a jill carrying a baby kit, came out of the house. They walked toward him, both looking very worried.

David looked down at the baby and said, “Is Matilda all right, Annabelle?”

The jill replied, “Yes, she is. I left her playing with her friends. David, we heard. What’s wrong?”

David shook his head. “I was afraid that this was going to happen sooner or later. Not all of the villagers like us, but they all respected Father Granger, and they left us alone because he thought much of us. But this new Vicar… He’s made up his mind about us already, and he’s obviously strong-willed enough to stir up the people who hate us, and he’ll likely influence the opinions of the undecided.” He sighed. “I don’t think we’ll be welcome here anymore.”

The hob said, “What will we do, David?”

“Well, Daniel, it’s not like we aren’t prepared. Annabelle, Go back in and tell the others to get ready to leave. They’ve each been assigned a book or a set of tools to carry, and they ought to remember that. If some have forgotten, remind them. Talk to Skippy; he’ll have the list.”

“I will, my love.” She and David kissed. He kissed his baby son William, and Annabelle went back inside.

David turned to Daniel. “I see that you brought the burial plot.”

“Yes, I figured that you’d want it after I listened to all that.” He held out the paper. On it was an accurate map of the back garden. Scattered around the map were small crosses, concentrated in some places and isolated in others. Several crosses had question marks beside them. “I’m thankful that the Skippys have kept such accurate records over the years. It will make finding most of the graves simple enough.”

“Good. Get together some helpers and give them shovels. Have them start digging. But be careful! Do your best to keep from being seen from the road, at least until Sundown. I’m worried that the humans will try something.”

“We’ll do our best.” He pointed at a cross with a question mark. “But we only have a general idea of where these graves are located. The locations given are best guesses, and they may or may not be right. If they aren’t, we’ll have to search. Will we have enough time to do that?”

“We’ll make enough time! We have to! I don’t want to leave anything of ourselves behind for the humans to find. I don’t know what they could do with our old bones – I have my doubts about the usefulness of sympathetic magic – but they might stumble upon something. We owe it to our ancestors to take them with us.”

He pointed at one cross with the name NOAH written by it. “That one may be the hardest to locate, but it’s the most important one, because he was the first. We have to find that one.”

“Very well, David. We’ll get to work.” He started for the house, but turned back. “Don’t worry, David. We’ll find them all.”

“I’m sure you will. I have confidence in you.” Daniel went in the house while David looked around the garden. He’d always liked this place – so full of life – and he’d miss it.

He noticed the brightly-colored beetle wandering away. He watched for a moment, then headed for the house.

##########################

Father Follio was quite pleased by the size of the turnout. As far as he could estimate, there were more than half of the villagers in the church. Widow DeFarge was sitting next to him at the front of the church. They turned to each other and smiled. He was unfamiliar with all of the residents of Wold Newton, but she could tell him later who hadn’t shown up. He’d make a note of the names.

Obviously there were quite a few of the villagers that hadn’t fallen under the spell of the demonic beasts, and many were now loudly voicing their opinions of what the creatures had done and about what should be done about them. A large number of the people in the church seemed undecided, but they had shown up, so Follio thought they could be brought around.

Someone stood up and shouted, “My Bessie’s delivered curdled milk two months ago! It were the fault of those animals!” Many folk roared in agreement.

A timid voice could just be heard. “But the creatures have lived here over fifty years. Why would they wait until now to curdle the milk?” He was shouted into silence.

There were other declarations of disaster and hardship, all attributed to the talking ferrets. Yes, most of the people here were on his side, and he knew that the others could be persuaded to see the truth or would be ignored.

Except, perhaps, one. Follio looked over at the stocky man sitting by himself to one side of the room. Father Follio had been surprised when Rufus Moody had walked in and set down. He had fully expected that the blacksmith would disrupt the proceedings, but so far Moody had kept perfectly quiet. Follio was wary of him, but… Was it possible that he’d actually come to see the truth?

Follio held his hands up and called for order. His voice carried well over the hubbub, and soon the crowd had settled down.


Follio said, “I must point out that the Devil’s servants are subtle. They think nothing of waiting for years to do their evil work. Just because your cow didn’t start giving bad milk until just last year means nothing. Now, then, we all agreed –” He looked over at Rufus but saw no response. “– that these monsters are a bad influence on our lives and an affront to all righteous folk. Obviously something must be done. But, be warned. These demons are strong. I did battle with one today. The touch of Holy Water surely gave him pain –” Again a quick look at Moody; again, again no response. “– but he resisted. I believe that he fears me, though, and my faith in the Lord. It is up to us to decide on a way to drive them away. Do we have suggestions?”

Someone said, “Poison.” Others nodded their heads in agreement.

Lady DeFarge said, “A possibility. These creatures are clever, though. They may scent out any poison, and they may be immune from its effects. Still, a good idea. We’ll keep it in mind.”

A lady shouted, “Burn them out! Fire the cottage!” This was met with loud approval. Lady DeFarge smiled and nodded.

Someone else said, “We’ll have to trap them in the cottage. Block the doors. If any get out, we’ll drive them back inside!” More approval.

Then someone on one side of the room – slow, heavily built – stood up. He said nothing, just standing there and looking at Follio and DeFarge. People looked at him, and the shouting slowly died down until everyone was quiet.

Here it came. Follio said, “Yes, Brother Moody? Do you have a suggestion?”

There are various types of courage. There’s the courage derived from the safety of numbers. A similar sort of courage derives from letting someone else make the decisions. And, of course there’s the old reliable “liquid courage”. These forms of courage contributed much to the gathering that night. But one man showed the courage of being alone.

The blacksmith’s voice rumbled, “Aye. I’ll not make it, though, in mixed company.” Lady DeFarge scowled at him, and some voices were raised. Rufus Moody ignored all of this, and the noise died down again. He continued.

“I want to remind folks here of some things. As I’ve said before, those creatures have harmed no one in this village. Indeed, they’ve done much to help us. For over a generation, we’ve had no problem with vermin. Many here know about my daughter – I won’t go into that, but there have been other ill folk. The Wee Folk have done much to mend things here, as well – fences, houses. I can recall when the mortar in the church walls was in terrible shape. No more.

“And, you, Titus Cotter.” He pointed at one man nearby. “Remember when your little boy wandered off and got lost in the woods? All of four years old, he was. But he came home, none the worse for wear. He talked of the little ‘doggies’ that led him home, didn’t he? Well, didn’t he?”

Titus Cotter frowned and said nothing.

Moody said, “Aye, I can remind you of all that the Wee Folk have done for us, but it’ll do no good in this crowd, will it?” He looked at the Vicar. “You’ve made up your minds, and there’s nothing I can say or do to change that. You’re condemning those creatures, and you’ll be proud of it. I will say, though, that you might think differently when the rats come back.” He began to edge along the row of chairs to the aisle.

Father Follio said, “Mister Moody, I can assure you that you’re wrong –”

“Save it, Vicar. I’ve had my say, and I’m leaving. I’m going to the pub for a drink or three.”

“Mister Moody, I have called this meeting, and I will say when people may leave. If you’ll sit down, we’ll talk about this and perhaps I can persuade you of your error. Mister Moody!” But the blacksmith paid no attention.

Cotter stood up. “Rufus, you heard the man! You’re to stay here!”

Moody replied, “If you think you can stop me, Titus Cotter, you’re welcome to try.” Cotter wasted no time in sitting down, and no one else tried to stop the blacksmith.

Just as he reached the door, Lady DeFarge called out, “Mister Moody, if you walk out that door – if you turn your back on this righteous cause – you and your whole family will be cursed!”

That stopped the blacksmith. He looked back at Lady DeFarge, who sat at the front of the church with a smug little smile.

Rufus Moody was a slow man, in thought and movement. He was a quiet man, and a simple man. But it was a mistake to equate slowness and silence and simplicity with stupidity.

He said quietly, “A curse, is it?” Lady DeFarge smiled even wider and nodded.

Moody thought this over. Then he finally said, “A curse. Sounds like witchcraft, that does. Vicar, I’d have a talk with the Lady about that.” And he walked out the door.

For a brief moment – a very long brief moment – there was silence, after which everyone started talking at once. Lady DeFarge’s face turned several different interesting colors as Follio eventually managed to restore order.

Lady DeFarge stumbled over her words. “I’m – I’m afraid Mister Moody is lost to us. That’s no problem. He’ll, um, see the right of this in – in time. Now… I favor burning the – the demons out. But we’ll have to go about it subtly. Yes, no rushing in. Have to, um, make sure we can prevent their escape. No, we must make plans –

“Vicar, stop looking at me like that!!”

##########################

It was an easy task to make friends in “The Shattered Drum” in Wold Newton – one simply offered to buy a round for the customers. So, when Rufus Moody entered the door and announced his presence with “Drinks for everyone on me!” he had a whole pub full of friends.

The night got lively. Katie the serving girl was almost constantly delivering mugs of Wold Newton’s finest local ale and found nary a moment to stop and catch her breath. People shouted; people laughed; at the top of their lungs people sang bawdy songs that Katie found boring. Right in the middle of this was Rufus Moody, grinning and waving his mug and singing the loudest and howling with glee.

It was late when Moody finally bade his pubful of friends a good night and staggered out the door to go home. He barely made it, and several folks laughed to see that he proceeded to weave down the road in the wrong direction entirely. Well, he’d stumble off to the side of the road somewhere and sleep it off.

The barkeep remained silent all through the proceedings. As long as there was no property damage – at least of his property – and the money kept coming, he never minded noisy occasions like this. He kept the ale flowing and kept his mugs clean, and he watched Rufus Moody all the time, until the blacksmith left. He’d noticed something odd.

For all of his raucous behavior, Rufus Moody hadn’t really drunk all that much.

The barkeep shrugged his shoulders, and had said nothing. He respected Rufus Moody deeply, and if the blacksmith wanted to play this sort of charade, he probably had a good reason.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 9

Rufus was in full voice as he staggered down the road, treating the countryside to “The Ladies of Inverness” in a surprisingly fine baritone. Where he was going seemed of no concern. All the houses he passed were quiet.

Soon he came to a trim little stone house on a nice little plot of land. This house was quiet as well, except for some low sounds coming from the back garden. Moody stopped and tried to focus his eyes on the house. Finally he entered the front yard and stumbled his way up to the front stoop.

He almost made it. Just before he reached the house, however, he seemed to lose complete control of his feet. He slowly turned around and fell backwards, just short of the stoop. He tried to move, but somehow his body gave up and he began to snore.

The front door of the house opened and David came out, followed by a small group of ferrets. They stood and looked down at the unconscious human. David gave a snort of exasperation. “Oh, now this is just what we need. I don’t think we can spare enough ferrets to carry him home, but we can at least roll –”

The unconscious human whispered, “Is anyone else around?”

David at the others stared at Moody for a few moments, but ferrets can’t be accused of being slow on the uptake. Several of them quickly looked around, and a couple went to the road to check further. They all shook their heads at David, who said to Moody, “No. There’s just you and us.”

“Good. I came to warn you and the rest of the Wee Folk. The new Vicar has gotten the villagers stirred up against you. I’m thinking that they’ll want to do you some harm.”

David sighed. “I was afraid of that. We could see the signs already, and we’re preparing ourselves. But I surely do thank you for confirming it.”

“What are you going to do?” Rufus moved his head to look at the ferret. “You’re going to leave, aren’t you?”

David looked down at the human. “What choice do we have? We could defend ourselves – you can guess at how well we can handle weapons – but what good will it do? People would get hurt. These folks are wrong, but they’re good folks nonetheless. I think that it’s time for us to move on.”

Rufus Moody looked up at the starry night sky. He thought of his beautiful little daughter and how she laughed and played. “Where will you go?”

“We don’t know. Someplace where we will be accepted.”

“It may be difficult to find such a place.”

“I know. If we can’t find acceptance, we can at least try to find tolerance. Is that so much to ask for?”

“For some people, I guess it is, and for that I am deeply sorry, little friend. Where do you think you’ll go for now?”

“We’ll go South to London. I want to make contact with some human scholars at the Museum of Natural History in London. Perhaps they’ll be understanding toward us.”

“Perhaps. But they’re still human. Be wary, little ones.”

“We will. But I do want to talk with them.”

Daniel came around the side of the house, carrying a little bundle, and stopped when he saw the blacksmith stretched out on the ground.

David said, “It’s all right. He’s a friend. What have you got there?”

Daniel replied, “Um… We found him, David.” He held out the bundle. “These must be Noah’s bones.”

“Are you sure?”

“Skippy was guiding us, and he said he was almost certain of it.”

David nodded. A Skippy’s “almost certain” was as good as a guarantee. “It must be so, then. How are you progressing?”

“There are only a few questionable gravesites left. The rest will be easy to locate. We should be done well before morning.”

“Excellent. Carry on.” After Daniel left, David said to the human, “We have many graves of our own in the back garden, and we’ll be taking all of the remains with us. I think it’s for the best.”

Rufus Moody sat up, weaving very carefully. “I agree. Are you leaving before dawn, then?”

“That’s the plan. We want to take out across the fields and avoid human contact.”

“I’d suggest traveling across Farnon’s fields. He won’t object; he’s always spoken highly of the Wee Folk after you cared for his cattle.”

“That’s a good idea. Thank you.”

Rufus looked down at David. “I’ve given you my thanks so many times already. I’ll do what I can to help you. You know that.”

He held out his hand, and human and ferret shook hand and paw. Rufus said, “Luck be with you and yours.”

“And with you, kind sir. Will you do us a favor and pass along a message to the village? Some folk will understand it.”

“And what may that message be?”

“The Pact has been broken.”

After a moment, Rufus nodded his head and said, “Aye.”

The ferrets turned and went into the house, and Rufus managed to rise to his feet and stagger down the road to his home.

The next morning, when the mob came, they found the cottage empty. They put torches to it anyway. Rufus Moody wasn’t the only one to profess disdain at the foolishness of destroying a perfectly fine house, especially one that had been kept in such fine repair over the decades, but others cast doubts on the religious devotion of such questioning folk. There were ill feelings all around, but nothing serious came of it.

Eventually, however, the rats did come back.

##########################

The ferrets moved by night and found secluded spots to rest during the day. Food was never a problem; there was much more wildlife in Great Britain in those days.

Every one of the adults and many of the older children had something to carry – tools, weapons, cooking utensils. And there were the books. David had filled five of them with his journals and notes. He took turns with Annabelle, caring for the children and carrying his books.

But the number of books in the Skippys’ library was astonishing. Almost from the first day that they had learned to read and write, the Skippys had been chronicling the ferrets’ lives. And they wrote everything down – births, deaths, couplings, major events, daily observations. And the Skippy Chronicles formed a continuous thread, right down to the present day. It filled scores of books; every Skippy seemed to be carrying at least two. Even as they trotted along, David could see at least one Skippy jotting something down.

One day, the Leader of the Skippys had shown David their very first journal. David had been awed to see the year written down as 1796. The book had been fragile and he’d been afraid to touch it. The Leader of the Skippys had told him not to worry about it. “If the book starts to fall apart, we’ll simply copy it into a new one. The condition of the container is less important than the content.”

The sun was rising in the East when the group settled down in a small forest for the day. David and Daniel were studying a small map.

David pointed to a point on the map. “Now if I’ve calculated correctly, this is the village of Tottenham. As you can see, we’re directly north of London now. It would only take an hour or less to get there.”

Daniel nodded. “So, what do you plan for us to do?”

“I figure that the group will stay here tonight instead of moving on. I want to go on ahead into London. “I want to find –” He pulled out a piece of paper. “– this man. This is a broadsheet that I found in Lincolnshire.”

In florid script, the sheet announced LECTURE TONIGHT BY THE DISTINGUISHED PROFESSOR ROGER AINLEY OF THE LONDON MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY! HE WILL SPEAK ON THE ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY OF POLECATS, WEASELS AND FERRETS! There was an engraving of a young, somewhat heavyset gentleman with large muttonchop whiskers. David said, “If there’s an understanding human in London, it ought to be this man!”

Daniel examined the broadsheet. It mentioned that Professor Ainley was an expert in taxidermy, and it was further illustrated by a drawing of a ferret-like creature’s body. It looked like the body had been spread out and opened up to expose the internal organs. The picture disturbed Daniel, but it was most likely just illustrative. He said, “Ye-ess, he might be the one to talk to. I’d be careful if I were you, though.”

“Oh, certainly. But things ought to be fine.”

“Very well. If you don’t mind, I’ll go part of the way with you.”

“No, I don’t mind, but I want to go all of the way on my own.”

At dusk, David’s little family gathered to say good-bye to him and Daniel. Annabelle held the baby in her arms and Matilda stood by her side.

David hugged his daughter and said, “Your mother is going to need your help, my dear. Do what she says and look after your little brother.”

“Yes, Papa.” She kissed him on his cheek.

When David stood up, the little kit held out his tiny paws. David took him from Annabelle and looked at him sternly.

“You, my dear William, will be the man of the house while I’m gone. Make sure you take care of your Mother and Sister.” William made a gurgling noise as his father kissed him and handed him back to Annabelle.

Annabelle held out her arm and gathered her mate close to her, holding him for what seemed like a long time. They kissed and she looked at him. “How long will you be gone, my love?”

“I think four or five days. I’m sure that I’ll have much to talk over with this man. I only have a vague idea where this Natural History Museum is. It may be as much as a week.”

Daniel said, “I won’t be staying in town, so I’ll likely be back tomorrow evening. I might have to find a place to sleep.”

Annabelle kissed David again and said, “Please be careful, the both of you.”

“We will.” David and Daniel started down the path to the city.

Before they passed out of sight, the two ferrets looked back. Annabelle and her children stood there, watching them. The ferrets waved good-bye and disappeared from view.

##########################

David and Daniel skirted around the village of Tottenham until they were just north of London. Houses were few in this area. A cozy little cottage was nearby, with light shining through the windows.

The two ferrets stood by the side of the road. The lights of London were clearly visible only a few miles south. David said nothing – he just stood there looking at the lights, clearly excited about what lay ahead.

He turned to Daniel. “Well… I don’t want to delay too long. I want to make good time before daybreak.”

“Very well. Hopefully we’ll see you in a few days.” The two ferrets shook paws. They stood there for a few seconds, and then hugged each other.

David began walking down the road. Daniel stood there and watched him as long as he could see him.

After that, Daniel looked around, to see what he could see. The small cottage looked nice. He walked over to look around the front garden. It was a peaceful place.

Suddenly he heard the loud barking of a dog. Daniel looked around to see a bull mastiff bounding toward him, snarling and teeth bared.

Daniel turned and ran for the house. He’d seen dogs before in Wold Newton; some of them had even been bigger. But this one looked like he’d chosen to leave behind the benefits of domestication. Daniel feared for his life.

It was a close thing. Daniel could have sworn that those vicious-looking teeth were just inches from his neck when he reached the stoop. There was a trellis just by the front door, and the ferret shot up to the top; Daniel had never been a fast climber, but he was inspired now.

He was safe, but just barely. The dog was resting his front paws on the latticework, and those jaws were snapping less than a foot below Daniel. The trellis swayed back and forth beneath the dog’s weight; it wouldn’t hold for long.

There was a trick that the ferrets had when dealing with aggressive dogs, and Daniel tried it now. He shouted down at the dog, in his most authoritative voice, “NO! GO AWAY! BAD DOG! GO AWAY!” It worked well for the dogs back in Wold Newton. The experience of a small animal actually talking to them like a human was usually enough of a surprise to chase them off.

But this creature was having none of it. Daniel was starting to feel desperate.

The front door opened and light spilled out of the cottage. A woman stepped out to shout at the dog, and she was armed with a large piece of wood. She brought it down on the mastiff’s back, hard. After three impressive blows, the dog dropped down to its four legs and backed away. It snarled at her, but it didn’t attack. The woman tossed her weapon at it, and her aim was very good. The dog gave it all up and slinked away.

The woman was middle-aged and stocky – the best single word that could be used to describe her is “comfortable”. After the dog disappeared, she looked around and said, “Well, where are you? I’m certain that I heard a voice out here. You can come out; you’re safe now.”

She looked around and noticed the ferret at the top of the trellis. She said, “Well, well. It couldn’t have been you that I heard!” She paused. “Could it?”

There was nothing for it. He replied, “Yes, Ma’am, it was me that you heard. Thank you for helping me.”

He had no idea how the woman would react. But it was in a way that he didn’t expect at all. She looked at him for a few moments, and then called into the house, “Jakob, we have company!”

A middle-aged man with a bushy beard and wearing a black skullcap with red trim came out on the stoop. “Yes, my dear, what is it? Oh!” He looked at the ferret. “How do you do, young one? Where did you come from?”

Miryam looked at Daniel expectantly. Well, why not? Daniel said, “How do you do, sir? My name is Daniel, and I come from up North.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up at the sound of Daniel’s voice. But he didn’t shout, and he didn’t throw anything. Instead he looked at the woman and said, “What do you think, a demon?”

She looked at the ferret and shook her head. “I don’t believe so. If he is a demon, he’s a polite one.”

“Ah, but the Devil and his minions can be quite well-spoken. Or so I’ve been told by our Christian acquaintances.”

The woman snorted. “So, what does that prove? Are we to conclude that an angel would be rude to us? That’s where the logic leads us.”

The man chuckled. “Ah, my Miryam, you have the wisdom of a rabbinical scholar. It’s one of the many reasons that I married you. Mister Daniel, you’re likely not a demon, and I strongly suspect that you’re not an angel, either. So, what are you?”

Daniel replied, “I am neither angel nor demon, as you conclude. I am a talking ferret – nothing more, nothing less.”

“A good answer. However, this is a question that needs exploring further. For now, we are being rude to a guest.” He and Miryam stepped away from the door. “We invite you into our home. Enter freely and unafraid.”

“Thank you, sir.” Daniel climbed down from the trellis and walked into the house. He somehow knew that he was safe.

The first thing the ferret noticed when he was indoors was the wonderful smell. A meal. He turned to the humans and said, “Oh, I must have interrupted your dinner. I’m terribly sorry.”

Miryam said, “Think nothing of it. Mister Daniel. In fact, we have plenty of food. Would you like something to eat?”

Jakob said, “Do you have objections to kosher?”

“What is ‘kosher’?”

“It’s a special kind of meal preparation. We’re Jewish, you see, and we have dietary restrictions.”

“Oh, I see no problem with that.”

Miryam said, “Excellent. I’ll prepare you a plate.” She went through a door; the fine smells were coming through from the room beyond. While she was gone, Jakob sat down and looked at Daniel. “It’s interesting to meet a ferret that can talk. Since you can talk, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Daniel thought for a moment. “Well, the only reason I can give for my ability to talk is that I and others like me were born that way. Well… actually we learn to talk after a few months. Like human children.” Jakob nodded but said nothing. Daniel continued.

“We originally came from a village up North named Wold Newton. As best as some of us can figure, we were first born around 1795 or after. We’ve lived in a cottage up there for the last 60 years or thereabouts. We recently left, however, and we’ve come to London.”

“I see. And why did you leave?”

Daniel sighed. “The humans didn’t want us around anymore. They didn’t understand us, and they feared us.”

Miryam came in from the kitchen with a little bowl. She said, “Many people are like that. They fear what they don’t understand. Here, this is matzoh ball soup. Tell me what you think.” She set it down in front of the ferret and put a small spoon beside it.

Daniel took a sip and smiled. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

Jakob said, “Of course it is. Her cooking is another reason I married her.”

Miryam beamed at the compliments. She said, “So, what do you and your people –” She looked thoughtfully at her husband. “‘People’. You know, that sounds right for him. They have every right to be called people. Don’t you think?”

“I think you’re very right, my dear.”

“Where was I? Oh. Mister Daniel, what do you and your people hope to find in London?”

Daniel put down his spoon and looked at the humans. “We want understanding. We want to find humans who will treat us with dignity. We should be able to find that, shouldn’t we?”

Miryam and Jakob looked at their guest solemnly. Jakob said, “I would hope so, but I’m afraid we’re not the best ones to ask. Given the history of our people, we’d be hard put to agree.”

Miryam said, “Mister Daniel, Jews have been vilified and persecuted for centuries. We have been accused of the most heinous crimes, and we have suffered terribly for it.”

Jakob said, “Our people are exiles. In a way, we’re a lot like you and yours.”

Daniel looked up at them for a few moments, and looked down at the soup before him. He picked up the spoon and took a sip. He finally said, “You have shown kindness to a stranger, particularly a stranger as unique as I am. Surely there must be some other humans as understanding as you.”

Miryam said, “Not as many as there ought to be. Do you think there are any such in London?”

“Perhaps. One of us has gone on to the city to find a man of learning that he’d heard of. The man seems to be an expert on polecats and weasels. If anyone will understand us, he ought to.”

“Perhaps…” Miryam sounded skeptical. “It’s as good a place to start as any, I suppose. But a man of science is still a man, with all of a man’s shortcomings. I hope your friend is successful.”

“I hope so, too.”

Soon Daniel decided that it was time to leave and get back to the encampment. He thanked Miryam and Jakob again for their kindness.

Miryam smiled and replied, “It was nothing that we wouldn’t do for any traveler. Now you be careful yourself. That mastiff is part of a wild pack of dogs that have been plaguing the area. It’s getting dark, and they’ll be on the prowl.”

“I promise to be careful.”

Jakob said, “Please do. It has been good to meet you, Daniel. Come back soon. You’ll always be welcome here.”

“I’ll come back sometime. For now, good-bye.” He waved at the two humans and walked down the road.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 10

On the way back to the encampment, Daniel kept an eye out for the mastiff and any other dogs. He’d gotten most of the way back without seeing any, and he was just beginning to let himself relax. Then, just as he came within sight of the trees around the ferret’s encampment, he heard barking behind him.

With a sinking feeling, the ferret turned around. It was worse than he expected; not only was the mastiff bounding toward him, there was a second large dog following right behind. Daniel turned and began to run for his life.

It seemed like the trees were miles away, and Daniel put on a burst of speed. He caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, and was horrified to see a third and a fourth dog running for him from one side. One of the dogs was ahead of the others and was angling to cut him off from the trees. Daniel ran even faster than he thought was possible. His heart was hammering against his ribs.

It looked like he might just make it to the trees, but the one dog was faster. It was going to catch Daniel just short of safety. He was going to be too late.

The dog was close enough now that Daniel could see its sharp teeth and the glint in its eyes. He could have sworn that he could smell its breath.

With only a few seconds before it caught up with him, a long, thin object suddenly shot out from the trees and sank into the dog’s side. Someone had thrown a spear. Soon a second and third spear were sticking out of the dog’s flanks, and another one pierced its jaw. The dog yelped in pain and turned away. Daniel slowed down just a little bit, and that nearly doomed him.

The ferret felt something slam into his back and bowl him over. He turned onto his back and saw the mastiff standing over him. The dog opened its mouth wide, ready to sink its teeth into him.

One of the metal spears embedded itself in the dog’s soft palate, and it howled. Daniel saw that a cord had been attached to the end of the spear, and it pulled taut as the mastiff backed up. The dog howled and swatted at the spear, but it was in solid.

The dog pulled back harder, and the spear abruptly tore out. The mastiff, blood dripping from its mouth, ran away.

“Daniel!”

The ferret looked around and saw another ferret leaning out from the trees. It was his close friend Charles.

“They’ll be back! Come here! Quick!”

Daniel jumped up and dived for the cover of the trees. He rolled up beside Charles.

The other ferret used the cord to pull the spear back. He said, “The Skippys attached lines to the metal spears so we could recover them. Wooden spears are easy to make, but the metal items are precious.”

Daniel said, “I agree. How long has it been like this?”

“The dogs started attacking right after you and David left. It’s a wild pack, and there seems to be about a dozen of them.”

“Have there been any casualties?”

“Some of us have been injured, a few severely. But no deaths. We’ve killed one of the dogs outright, and we think that another one’s wounds were mortal. There are still several of them out there, though, and maybe more that we haven’t seen yet. We’ve got a watch and guards set up. We can drive them off, but they’re persistent. But we’re good with our weapons. We’ll prevail in the end.”

Daniel sighed. “But it will take time. I can see that. I’m afraid David is going to be on his own the next few days.”

##########################

It took two nights for David to locate the Museum of Natural History. London was a large city, with a bewildering number of huge buildings. But soon he found what he was looking for.

It had just gone dusk when David made his way up the imposing front steps of the Museum. The front door wasn’t built with ferrets in mind, but he looked around and managed to find an open basement window. After that it was a matter of finding a staircase that would lead him to the ground floor.

In the atrium was a directory with a large list of names and room numbers. Hartnell… Baker… Tennant… Pertwee…

Ah. There it was. Professor Roger Ainley. He was located in Room 17. David wandered around the halls until he found a sign pointing to way to Rooms 16 through 30.

The hallway was filled of glass cases, and they were all full of silent, unmoving animals. David looked more closely. Stuffed, obviously, and not very well. David was familiar with birds and foxes and dogs. These had been posed poorly, and the eyes didn’t look natural at all.

David felt a bit uneasy. All of these animals had been alive, once. Some of them wouldn’t have thought twice about pouncing on a small ferret. But surely they deserved better than being put on display like statues.

Well, men of science did such things, and they surely had good reason. David went on down the hall.

The door to Room 17 was slightly ajar. David could see that the catch on the jamb wasn’t working properly. Perhaps he could offer some help in fixing it. He walked into the room.

On the other side of the door was an outer office with a small rolltop desk and a side table. There were shelves stuffed with books. David looked forward to rummaging through them.

A young man with unruly brown hair was sitting at the desk, with his back to the door. He obviously wasn’t Professor Ainley.

Well, nothing ventured and all that. David cleared his throat. The young man turned around and looked at the door.

At first the young man looked puzzled, because there was no one there. Then he looked around and saw the ferret. He didn’t pay much attention until David cleared his throat again.

The human stared at the ferret. Then David said, “Excuse, is this Professor Ainley’s office?” Then the young man’s eyes almost popped out of his head.

The human got up and, without taking his eyes off of David, backed to another door in the opposite wall. His voice wavered as he said, “Professor?” He tried again and said, a little louder, “Professor! You better come out here!”

A rough voice came from behind another door. “What? What’s that? I’m busy in here, Mitchell! I said I wanted no interruptions!”

“But – but this is important, sir!”

“Oh, for –” There was the sound of a chair scraping along the floor and Professor Ainley appeared at the door. “Very well, boy, what so all-fired important that – eh?” He looked at the ferret. “Now where did that creature come from?”

David replied, “How do you do, Professor? I came here to see you.”

The man’s jaw dropped open and he stared at the ferret for a moment. Finally he whispered, “Incredible…” And a look of pure joy spread across his face. David smiled in return.

Ainley said, “Amazing! It can’t be! But – A whole new species of ferret! A mimic! I’ve never seen or heard of anything like it! And it wandered right in here, under our very noses! Mitchell, get the net!”

The young man said, “Sir?”

“The collection net, boy! Capture it before it gets away!”

Mitchell picked up a large net leaning against the wall and approached the ferret. David said, “I can assure you that that’s not necessary, sir. I have no intention of trying to leave.”

The young man stopped and stared at David. Then he turned to the Professor. “Sir? He says –”

“Don’t pay attention to that, boy! He’s not really saying anything! He’s a mimic, like a parrot, no more!”

“But he sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Well, he doesn’t! Ferrets are clever animals, no more! They have no more sense about what they’re saying than a bird does! Now, catch him!”

The young man looked very doubtful, but he brought down the net over David’s body all the same. He quickly brought the net up, and the ferret was entangled inside.

Professor Ainley was jubilant. “Excellent! Excellent! Bring him over here!” The man grabbed the ferret and held him close to examine him.

David protested. “Sir, this is wrong! You’re holding me too tightly! This isn’t comfortable for me! Please let me go!”

Ainley stared closely at David. “Amazing… The words are so finely formed! How the throat and vocal cords must be developed! And it’s been taught an astonishing number of words! And the paws!” He held one up and squeezed it. “Look how long the toes are! They could almost pass for fingers! Impossible, of course.” David winced from the pain.

Mitchell looked disturbed. “Professor, where could he have come from? It doesn’t seem natural.”

Professor grasped David’s lower jaw and turned his head from side to side. “Well, it’s certainly wasn’t a miracle. There has to be some scientific explanation. It must have started out as a mutation that bred true. But the amount of effort that someone must have put into breeding it…” He examined the ferret more closely. “What an important find this is. I’m sure Hartnell would love to take a close look at the skeletal structure.”

David realized that the situation was going very wrong. “No, sir. You don’t understand. It’s not what you think…”

Mitchell looked visibly upset. “Professor, what he’s saying… Are you sure…”

Ainley shook his head. “Now, now, young man. One of the first things you learn as a zoologist is not to fall into the trap of humanizing animals. They may act like humans, but they’re not. Now, get that cage over there ready.”

It was a small cage, more suitable for a rabbit than for a ferret, but it was well-built. David tried to reach the latch from the inside, but he couldn’t reach it. He looked at the Professor and said, “Sir, please listen to me! You don’t understand!”

Professor Ailey sat back at his desk and studied the ferret. He shook his head and said, “Remarkable… Mitchell!”

The young man kept staring at the ferret. “Yes, sir?”

“The breeder must be somewhere nearby. This one must have escaped, though it’s anyone’s guess how far he’s wandered. We should do what we can to find this breeder.” He took out a sheet of foolscap and began writing something down. “We need to advertise in the newspapers.” He held out the note. “Here we go. We’ll ask for any ferreter or breeder who’s recently lost a ferret with… unusual… abilities. We won’t specify more than that. They can call around here to claim him. Take this and have it placed in a large number of dailies. Take some money out of the cash drawer.”

Mitchell looked again at David and asked, “How long should the advertisement run, sir?”

Ainley thought for a moment. “Four days, five. No more than that. If no one claims it by then, I doubt if anyone will. Run along, now.”

After the young man left, Professor Ainley leaned forward in his chair and looked at the ferret.

David noticed some metal objects on a side table. He recognized them as surgical instruments – scalpels, forceps, and sutures. He hesitantly asked, “What’s going to happen to me?”

Ainley shook his head and said, “Amazing. Simply remarkable. I really do hope we can find the breeder. But if not –” He sighed. “Well, we can still learn a few things.”

David sank back in despair.

##########################

The Skippy Chronicles refer to it as the Wild Dog War.

Charles underestimated the number of dogs in the pack. It turned out that there were over twenty. They continued to attack, and the ferrets continued to defend themselves, for over a week.

The ferrets weren’t their only target. The dogs went after livestock and pets at the nearby farms and houses as well. The ferrets received unexpected aid from a farmer. He wielded a shotgun to kill two of the wild dogs who were menacing a young jill and her three children; he never knew of the lives that he saved. The farmer was surprised and pleased with the brace of fine quail that was left on his doorstep later, and never found out where it had come from.

The ferrets fought fiercely on their own with spears and long knives. The Skippys began to experiment with longbows at this time as well. The results were devastating.

No ferrets lost their lives during the Wild Dog War, although many were severely injured. One Maximilian sustained a leg wound that left him with a limp for the rest of his life.

When the War was over, there were only three dogs who were able to flee the vicinity. All of the rest were either dead or mortally wounded. The ferrets had to spend two extra days tending to their own injured.


Finally, the day came when Annabelle came up to Daniel and said, “My David has been out of touch for far too long.”

Daniel nodded, “I agree. I believe that it’s time that someone goes to London to look for him.”

“When will you leave?”

“Tonight. I’ll take Charles with me, as well as Philip and Nicholas. One of the Skippys will go along with us. Do you have any further suggestions?”

“Yes.” Annabelle became eager. “Take me with you!”

Daniel frowned. “I don’t know… Your place should be here with your children. It might be dangerous.”

“But I know it’s dangerous! That’s the point! We haven’t heard from David for too long and I’m deeply worried. I want to find my mate. My sister will look after my children.”

Daniel said nothing.

Annabelle said, “If you don’t take me with you, I’ll follow anyway. You won’t be able to stop me.”

Daniel finally nodded. “Very well. It’ll be safer for you if you’re with us. We’ll leave at Sundown, then.”


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 11

Two more ferrets, Wilkins and Polly, joined them, and they made their way into London. It took time for them to travel the streets of London because eight ferrets could be more conspicuous than one. It took them all of the first night orienting themselves in the city. By the time the group found shelter for the day, they had an idea where the Museum was. That evening they quickly found it.

Looking at the large building, Daniel said, “Now we’ll have to find a way in. Polly, will you go ahead and look around?”

It was about twenty minutes later when she came back. “There’s a small basement window that’s open. We can get in there.”

“Very good. Let’s go, and everyone stay in the shadows.”

Soon they were in the lobby looking over the directory. “Ainley – that’s the man David came to find. Room 17. Charles, you stay in the hall with Wilkins and Polly; keep watch for any humans. Annabelle…”

She looked at Daniel anxiously. He finally said, “…I suppose you’ll have to come along with us. The rest of you – follow me.” They walked along beside the display cabinets and looked uneasily at the stuffed animals.

The door to Room 17 was open. The ferrets were surprised to find a human sitting at the desk in the outer office. His head was resting on his arms. He smelled of strong liquor, likely from the bottle of brandy next to him, and he was sobbing.

The young man was muttering, “A mimic, that’s all… just like, just like a parrot. That’s all. That’s what the Professor said. The animal was just repeating things…”

Daniel cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir?”

The young man’s head shot up and he stared at the ferrets through bloodshot eyes. Abruptly he shook his head. “No… You’re just like parrots! You’re not speaking for yourselves!” He pleaded with his eyes. “Are you?”

Daniel felt a stirring of alarm. “Yes, sir, we are.”

The human Mitchell stared at him for a moment more, than reached for the brandy and took a swig. Then he burst into tears.

“What have we done? Oh, Mercy, what have we done?”

Annabelle asked anxiously, “Where is he? Please tell us where he is!”

“Mitchell! What’s going on out there?” The voice came from the inner office. “Put down that blasted bottle and get in here?”

Daniel asked, “Is that Professor Ainley?” The young man could only nod and take a swig from the brandy.

The ferrets walked into the inner office. The Professor was examining something on his desk. Standing on the desktop next to him was another stuffed animal.

The Professor turned around and said, “Well, what do you have to say for –” He stopped and looked at the ferrets. A look of anticipation came into his eyes. He whispered, “It can’t be. It’s too much to hope for…”

Daniel said, “Um, Professor Ainley?”

“Yes!” The human clapped his hands joyously. “More of them! The breeder has to be nearby! Oh, what an opportunity for research – and it’s practically landed in my lap!” He jumped up. “Mitchell!” Ainley reached down and grabbed Daniel. “Come in here! I need your help rounding these creatures up! I can’t handle them by myself!”

Daniel struggled, but the human’s grip was strong. “Sir, please put me down! This is no way to treat us!”

“NOOOOOO!!”

Daniel looked around at Annabelle. She jumped up on the desk and screamed again. “DAAA-VID!!” She run over and grabbed the stuffed animal. Daniel looked closer at it –

He went limp in the human’s hands.

No. Oh, no.

“Aha! This one’s calmed down, at least. Mitchell! There are still others in here that I can’t handle alone! I need your help, man! Bah! Useless man.” He reached for a small cage. “Oh, well, I can at least put this one away.”

Annabelle leaped from the desktop and slammed into the human’s knee with a crunch. Ainley roared with pain and dropped Daniel. The ferret rolled away and the human tottered on his other leg for a few moments before falling backward. He hit the table and knocked several surgical instruments to the floor before he fell.

Daniel bumped against a stiff furry body. Skippy? Nicholas? He looked around.

Daniel moaned. David had fallen off of the desk. The eyes were glass and not the right color. “Oh, David…”

The other three ferrets were staring at David. They seemed to be paralyzed, which was not surprising. Daniel felt numb himself.

Daniel became aware of a smacking sound behind him, and he turned to look.

The human was sitting on the floor and leaning back against a cabinet. His kneecap was fractured, and his leg was bent at a grotesque angle. Annabelle stood on his chest. She was howling and grunting as she kept slamming her fists into the human’s face. His head snapped from side to side from the blows.

“You! You murderer!! Butcher!! Monster!! My mate! My LOVE! You! YOU!!” She continued to hit him, over and over.

Finally Annabelle stopped, but her body still quivered with rage. She looked around and jumped off of his chest to the floor to pick up something.

She said, all too quietly, “He was my mate. He was the father of my children.” She hopped over between the human’s legs and raised the scalpel over her head. “I will claim your children!”

“No!!" Daniel jumped up and grabbed the scalpel just as Annabelle was going to thrust it down. “No! We won’t do that!”

The two ferrets struggled. Annabelle’s strength was fierce and Daniel could barely control her. “Someone help me!”

Nicholas, Philip and Skippy came out of their spell and rushed over. The four of them barely managed to contain Annabelle. The scalpel flailed around and just barely missed Nicholas.

“Let me go! Look what he did! He must pay! Look what he DID!!”

Daniel said, “No! We’re better than that! We will not do this to him!”

Suddenly Annabelle gave up. She dropped the scalpel and went limp, throwing her head back and howling in pain.

Skippy and Wilkins led Annabelle away, and Nicholas went over to David. Daniel got up on the human’s chest and stared down at him.

Professor Ainley’s nose was a bloody mess, and his breath wheezed through his mouth. The area around one eye was beginning to swell.

Ainley spat out a couple of teeth and mumbled, “Mimicry… amazing…”


Daniel had done some hunting and had fought to defend the encampment during the Wild Dog War, but he’d never raised a paw to another ferret and certainly never to a human. His palm smacked hard against the human’s cheek, and the professor grunted and turned away. The ferret wondered if bone in his jaw was cracked.

For the rest of his life, Daniel never caused harm to any other living creature.

“No!” The ferret shouted. “We are not mimics like parrots! Don’t you understand? We are rational, talking beings like you! Haven’t you figured that out by now? Didn’t David tell you that? Didn’t he say anything to you at all, especially when – when –” Daniel couldn’t finish the sentence.

The human muttered. “Just – repeating – what someone taught it…”

“No. Those were his own words. I can only imagine what he said. Do you realize what you’ve done? Do you care? Why did you do that to him? Why?!”

“In… the name of… Science.”

“Science? You can perform some barbaric act like this – for Science? Does that make it all right? Would you act like so atrociously toward one of your own? Would you treat someone from Africa like you treated him? Like he was – he was some specimen, that you could dissect at your leisure?

“David was fascinated by Science. He loved to observe things – birds, plants, insects – and to try and figure out how things work. He wrote down books full of notes – he was so proud of them. He was so looking forward to meeting men of learning. He wanted so much to be able to show you his observations.

“And he met you, and you did this to him.”

Annabelle was wailing. Daniel looked at her. She was lying on the floor, trying to hold David close. But his limbs were stiff so that she couldn’t get a good grip.


Daniel said, “We’ll leave you, and we will take David with us. I will promise you now, and I mean what I say, that none of us will harm you any further. But I want you to understand that it is so very tempting to leave you alone in this room with her, to let her do whatever she wants to you. But I won’t. That’s not our way.

“Now, where are his bones? We will not leave them behind.”

He got no answer.

“Understand, Professor Ainley, we will not use physical force of any kind to make you tell us. But we will find our friend’s bones. We will search this room and the outer office as thoroughly as possible. And when I say that we will take apart everything, I am not talking idly. And there are many valuable objects here, I am sure. Now, I repeat – where are our friend’s bones?”

This time, the human mumbled something. “Har – Har… Ell…”

“Har-Ell? Do you mean Hartnell, by any chance? We saw his name on the directory in the lobby. Are the bones in Hartnell’s office? We’ll look there when we leave here.”

The human said nothing further, but his one good eye goggled at the ferret.

Daniel guessed what he was thinking and said, “Yes, Professor, we can read.”

Daniel looked at the others. Skippy and Philip had picked up David and were trying to hold him with as much dignity as was possible. Daniel said, “Wilkins, help Annabelle up, will you?”

Wilkins reached down for her, but she vigorously shook her head and stood up on her own. She had stopped crying and stood there looking down at the floor.

David hopped down. “Very well. Let’s go.” He turned to the human. “Professor, are you a religious man?”

He got no answer beyond a single glaring eye.

“No, I suppose I shouldn’t expect an answer. I’m guessing that you aren’t, what with the debate about science versus spirituality. I will, however, leave you with this, Professor.

“If there is a Creator – and my opinion doesn’t matter right now – He will know about this. He will know everything that you have done. One day, when or if you ever face Him, you might think about what you’ll have to say for yourself.” Daniel turned and followed the others out the door.

##########################

The other ferrets were shocked to see David. Polly gasped and averted her head. Charles’ eyes were filled with sadness as he looked at Daniel, but he could find nothing to say.

Daniel said, “Professor Hartnell’s office is in Room 32 – down that hall. Polly, Philip, go to his office and see if you can find… anything. The rest of us will wait here.”

The two ferrets rushed down the hallway, and the others stood around. They said nothing in the awkward silence. Daniel kept an eye on Annabelle, who stared at the floor and said nothing.

##########################

Professor Ainley stirred. He could feel a black cloud trying to overwhelm his thoughts.

They could read.

He shook his head. No, no, that was ridiculous. There had to be a rational explanation.

Of course there was. They were just natural mimics, that was all. They were superb at learning words by – They could read! – by rote and repeating them. What they had said had no real relevance –

They could read!

– to any form of conversation. That they seemed to respond to humans had been mere coincidence. Of course, there was always the possibility of a hoax. That could be it. One of his colleagues had hired a ventril – They could read! – a ventriloquist and had coached him into what he should say. Was he in a passage in the walls or… or…

They could read!!

The blackness in his mind was getting harder and harder to keep away. He had to do something. He tried to think. What was there he could do?

The desk. He had something in a drawer that would do the trick. Yes. That would do it.

His leg could no longer support him. He grasped a shelf on the cabinet and struggled to pull himself on to his good leg. Soon he was balancing on his foot and hopping over to the desk.

Yes. It was still there in the drawer. There had been some burglaries recently – likely drug addicts trying to find opiates – and Ainley had taken to keeping a gun in his desk. He checked; yes, it was still loaded.

##########################

Mitchell was running low on brandy. It hadn’t been nearly enough. He’d wanted to drink enough liquor to drive out the memories. He didn’t want to hear that begging voice anymore or to see those small black eyes. But he hadn’t forgotten them yet. It would take more.

The ferrets had come from the inner office and had walked right by him. The last one had stopped just long enough to look at him, but had said nothing and had left after the rest.

Some of the other professors had brandy in their offices. Mitchell could always break in and take theirs. Maybe he’d find enough to shut his mind down.

His mind wasn’t working all that well already. He couldn’t even be sure what was real anymore and what was part of a dream. Maybe he could convince himself that he’d imagined the whole thing.

Did he really hear a gunshot coming from the next room, or was it just his imagination?

##########################

The ferrets turned when the explosion echoed down the hallway. Charles asked, “What was that?”

Daniel replied, “I don’t know. It came from Ainley’s office. Wilkins, could you go and see what is was?”

Wilkins ran back down the hallway, keeping his eyes averted from the display cases on either side.

Soon he was back, shaking his head. He said, “That was a gun. Professor Ainley has taken his own life.”

“Good.”

Daniel looked over at Annabelle. It was the first time she’d spoken in several minutes. She had raised her head and was looking directly at him. It could have been called defiance, but all Daniel could see were the shutters that seemed to be closing behind her eyes.

The sound of little running feet came down another hallway. Polly and Philip appeared, carrying a box marked FERRET. They tried to keep the box steady, but there was still the muffled sound of clattering.

Philip said, “It was on the desk in Professor Hartnell’s office. We’re certain this is – what we were looking for. What was that noise?”

Daniel could see no reason to be indirect. “That was a gun. Professor Ainley committed suicide.

“All right, there’s nothing here for us anymore. We ought to leave.”

Charles was looking at David when he replied, “Daniel, it’s going to be awkward carrying him. And we can’t leave him like… that.”

“I know. We’ll have to take care of him. But I don’t want to do it here. For that matter, I don’t want to do it back at the encampment.” He looked at Annabelle. “I don’t want to risk the children seeing him.”

“I understand. But where can we do it?”

Daniel thought for a moment. “We need some privacy. I know of a human’s house where can probably do it.”

The other ferrets – except Annabelle – stared at him. Finally Charles said, “Are you mad? You want to go to a human’s house?”

“Yes. He and his wife were the only humans that have been kind to any of us since we left Wold Newton. We have to trust them. I give my word that they won’t harm any of us.”

Charles looked skeptical. “Well… If it were anyone else but you, Daniel, I’d say no. But we’ll watch them. And they’d better be as good as you say they are.”

As the group of ferrets headed for the basement and the way out of the Museum, Daniel reflected on another reason he wanted to go back to the humans’ house. He liked them. He felt peace with them, and he wanted to see them again. But he didn’t want to say that out loud, not right now.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 12

There was one thing that Rabbi Jakob could count on with the oldest member of his congregation – Abraham could make a discussion of Talmudic principles interesting. Of course, the Chinese had a curse that covered “interesting” quite nicely.

As always, Old Abraham had raised a point during the discussion that was difficult. Jakob hadn’t been able to give an easy answer, and now it was late and he was up going through the Talmud to try and find something relevant. He hadn’t yet found it when a knock came at the front door.

Jakob put a bookmark in the Talmud and set it down. He called out to Miryam, “I’ll get it, dear heart!” and walked to the front door. He wondered who it could be this late at night.

Before he reached the door, there was another knock, and it seemed to come from a spot very low down on the door panel.

“Daniel! It’s good to see you! And you’ve brought friends!” But he sensed their mood was definitely not cheerful. Two of them seemed to be carrying a statue of some sort –

He gasped when he got a closer look.

Daniel said, “Hello, Jakob. We came to find our friend in London. This is David. This is my brother.”

Jakob sighed. “Oh, Daniel. Oh, little ones. How did this happen?”

One of the ferrets glared at him and said, “A human did this to him! One of you took my mate from me!”

Jakob could hear the hostility in her voice and see it in her dark eyes. He sadly replied, “I am so sorry, little one. I know I can’t speak for all of my race, and I can’t make it all better. But I do offer my deepest condolences. It’s all I can do.”

Annabelle’s voice became dull and she looked down at the floor. “It doesn’t matter. When I have the time, I’ll see about joining him.”

Daniel was horrified. “No!” He rushed over and gripped her shoulders. “No! Don’t think about such a terrible thing! It would not be right.”

She pulled away and glared at him. “Why not? This world has taken away the man I loved! Why shouldn’t I leave, too? What have I got here that’s worth anything?”

“You have William and Matilda! You and David were blessed with two fine children –”

“No.”

This brought Daniel up short. “What?”

“It isn’t two children.” Annabelle placed her paw on her belly. “Just yesterday I discovered that I’m carrying a third child.”

“Oh… But, that gives you more reason to live!”

“No! I will not bring another child into this cruel world! He’d be better off going with me!”

“No, Annabelle, he wouldn’t. Yes, this can be a terribly cruel world – we saw that today. But there are things that make it bearable, even enjoyable. And one of those things is a child.” Daniel’s voice softened. “I love playing with your children. William is a real treasure. There are times when he and his sister have cheered me up considerably.

“Tell me this – do you plan on taking William and Matilda with you?”

Annabelle looked up into Daniel’s face. The shutters behind her eyes were still closed, but he thought could see something moving behind them. She finally said, “I don’t – I don’t know.”

“Please don’t. And please don’t take your baby with you. You would deprive him of a world that at its best can be a wonderful place. And you would deprive the world of him.

“I know David. I’ve known him since we were children growing up together. He would want them to live – and he would want you to live, too. These children have lost their father. It would hurt them deeply if they lost their mother, too.”

Annabelle bowed her head again, but the coldness wasn’t there – only sadness. “Children shouldn’t grow up without a father.”

Daniel smiled. “They do have an uncle, though. I would give my brother’s children as much love as I have.”

Annabelle said nothing for a few moments. She swallowed something and finally looked up at Daniel. There was still some defiance in her eyes. “I will not take my life while I’m carrying this baby.”

Daniel nodded.

“But after he’s born – I can’t say for sure what I’ll do.”

Daniel nodded again. “That’s all I’ll ask of you for now. We’ll address it more when the time comes. For now –” He placed his paws on her shoulders again, softly and warmly. “– for now, remember that I’m here for you, and I’ll always be.”

Charles spoke up. “We all are here for you.”

Annabelle’s face slowly crumpled, and Daniel pulled her close. She sobbed and wept on his shoulder as he placed a paw on her back. No one else, human or ferret, intruded on her grief.

She finally sighed and stepped back. Daniel looked at her and saw that the shutters were open, if only partially. She said, “I think I want to go to the encampment. I want to see my children.” She swallowed. “I – must tell them. They have to know.”

Daniel nodded. “William won’t understand, but Matilda will. She’ll need her mother now.”

“And her uncle. Will you come with me?”

“I’m afraid not. I have something to do – for David’s sake. And, Annabelle, I want to be with these humans. These really are good people.”

The shutters almost closed again. “Very well. But please come back to us.”

“You know I will. Is anyone else going with her?”

Polly and Nicholas nodded. Wilkins said he would, as did Skippy.

Daniel said, “Fine. Charles, Philip, does that mean that you’ll stay here? Thank you, I’d appreciate it. Skippy, do you have your tools?”

Skippy had a knapsack hanging from his shoulder. “Of course. A Skippy is never without his tools.” He lifted the sack off and held it forward. “Is there something you’ll need?”

“Yes. I’ll need your best knife.”

Skippy looked at him in an odd way and said, “I can do it if it will be too hard on you –”

“Thank you. It will be hard, but David is my brother. I can’t let anyone else do this.”

Skippy nodded, and then rummaged around in his sack. He brought out a fine knife, the perfect size for a ferret’s paw. “This will do the job nicely.”

“Thank you. And – leave the box, will you?”

When the others had left, Miryam leaned over and whispered something in her husband’s ear. Jakob’s eyebrows rose, and a thoughtful look came over his face. He nodded, and Miryam went quietly into another room.

Daniel looked down at the knife in his paw for the longest time. Finally, he simply said, “I have to go outside. I may be some time.”

Charles said, “Do you need any help?”

“I – hope not.” And he stepped through the front door and shut it behind him. David was out there.

Jakob said, “He is a good man.”

Philip said, “Strictly speaking, though, he’s not really a man.”

The human shrugged. “So he’s very short and covered with fur. In my opinion, that doesn’t mean that he isn’t a man. It certainly doesn’t mean he isn’t a good one.”

Philip replied, “I can’t argue with that.”

Charles looked at Rabbi Jakob and said, “Daniel told us that you’re Jewish.”

Jakob nodded and touched his black yarmulke with the red trim. “This is a good indicator here. Indeed, I’m what is known as a rabbi.”

“A rabbi? Like a priest?”

Jakob frowned in a smiling sort of way. “Some people would think so. But not quite. A rabbi is many things – a scholar, a teacher, an advisor, a judge. In many communities, in Europe, especially, we’re the power behind the throne, so to speak. When the village rabbi speaks, the villagers listen.” He reflected on this. “That must be nice. Here –” He shrugged. “– I’m fortunate to get anyone to pay attention to me. But a priest – no, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Tell us about Judaism.”

“Yes, what do you believe?”

“Oh, and here I thought you were going to ask difficult questions!” He laughed and smiled at the two ferrets. “What do we believe? We believe in one God. We believe that he and our people entered into a Covenant, through Abraham. We agreed to love God, and He agreed to love us. He gave Moses the Laws by which we are to live. After that, it gets a bit… complicated.”

They had been talking for several minutes when the front door opened and Daniel came back in. The look on his face was a controlled sadness. He carried the box with him; it was now fuller, and didn’t make any rattling noise.

Daniel carefully said, “The basic framework was wood, and – and it was stuffed with cotton. I took the liberty of placing the wood and cotton in your rubbish bin.”

Jakob solemnly said, “It will all be burned.”

“Thank you.” Daniel gently placed the box on the floor and stared at it for a few moments. He then looked up and said, “Have I interrupted anything?”

Charles replied, “Jakob has been answering our questions about Judaism.”

“Really?” Daniel looked at the human. “I have some questions myself. There’s so much that I want to understand. Especially after…” He looked at the box again and didn’t finish. But some sort of light was in his eyes.

Jakob motioned him forward. “Well, then, sit down and we’ll continue.”

The human rabbi and the three ferrets talked far into the night. The ferrets were fascinated, especially Daniel. They discussed the Laws of Moses, the existence of an afterlife, prayer, the importance of good deeds as opposed to belief, faith, human nature, and so much more. Understandably, Daniel asked about pain, loss, grief and similar subjects. And when the fire died down and they all settled down to sleep, it seemed like they’d only scratched the surface.

Miryam stayed up later, working with a needle and thread. When she was done, she looked at her work and seemed satisfied. The items came out looking fine, worthy of the one who would wear them. She carefully placed them aside and decided to do a little more work, making a few more things, for other ones. It may not be enough, but it would do for a start.

##########################

Some time, in the wee hours of the morning, Charles woke up. He got up, careful to not wake the others. He found a pencil and a piece of paper and wrote out a note: HAVE GONE TO THE ENCAMPMENT. WILL BE BACK TOMORROW – C. He left it on the table and quietly slipped out the front door.

##########################

As late as the previous evening had been, Jakob arose early and went to the synagogue for the Shacharit. It was Tuesday, so the Tachanun was short and the reading of the Torah was omitted entirely. After Jakob had given the 19 blessings of the Amidah, the prayer service was ended and the congregation filed out of the temple doors.

Old Abraham was at the service, of course. He was a frail old man who leaned heavily on his cane as he walked, but almost every day he was at the morning, afternoon and evening prayer services, and he made it a point to attend the extra services on Shabbat and the holy days. A frail old man Abraham may be, but he was a very active frail old man.

Just as Abraham was walking out the door, the rabbi stopped him, exchanged pleasantries and spoke to him for a few moments about something. Abraham asked something in return, but Jakob made some vague comments that didn’t really explain anything. Abraham shrugged and nodded.

Rabbi Jakob smiled. “Good. Thank you. I’ll see you this evening then.” He then went off to arrange for someone else to lead the afternoon and evening services.


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 13

It was early afternoon, and Jakob and Miryam and their two guests were digesting a fine kosher lunch, when someone knocked at the front door. It was another one of those that originated from the lower part of the door panel.

Daniel said, “That must be Charles.”

Jakob smiled in an odd way and replied, “Most likely. I’ll get it.” He got up and walked over to the open the front door.

“Well, hello, Charles. We’ve been expecting you. And – oh, my! – you’ve brought some friends with you, I see. Well, come in, come in, all of you.” Jakob stepped back to make room.

Daniel was astonished when Charles came into the house, followed by well over two score other ferrets. Even more astonishing, Jakob and Miryam didn’t seem bothered at all by so many guests turning up on their doorstep.

The ferrets stood in the middle of the living room, looking around and smiling tentatively at the two humans. Charles said, “Daniel, can we talk for a moment?”

Daniel had no idea what to make of this. He and Charles stepped to one side and talked in low voices for a moment. Then Daniel said, “What, all of them?”

Charles nodded and Daniel looked over the crowd. They were quiet, but they were obviously waiting for something. Daniel saw Nicholas in the group, as well as Polly and Wilkins. And Annabelle stood off to one side, impassive and silent. Daniel said, “And Annabelle, too?”

“I don’t think so, Daniel. She didn’t say yes; I’m not certain that she’s ready, just yet. But she did come along.”

“I see.” Daniel walked over to Jakob. “Rabbi?”

The human smiled. “Yes, Daniel? Are these folks here for a reason?”

“Well… yes. Last night’s discussion made quite an impression on Charles. And – it did on me. Charles went back to the encampment this morning and he talked to some of our comrades about it. And apparently it made an impression on them, too.

“That’s why all of these ferrets came back with him this afternoon. They all want to convert to Judaism.” Daniel smiled. “And I want to as well.”

Jakob’s smile had some amusement about it, but it was still a warm one. He said, “I’m not the least bit surprised. I felt that some of you – you in particular, my dear Daniel – were leaning toward conversion, though you didn’t know it at the time. You are very smart little creatures, I must say. I’m thinking that after – how long has it been, sixty years, you said? – after sixty years of existence, I believe that there’s a spiritual component that’s awakening in your souls. Of course you would turn to religion, of some sort or another, to explore. I am glad to see it. Others of you, I’m sure, will turn to Christianity and perhaps Buddhism or perhaps even Islam – there must be enough of you to go around. But I feel proud that Judaism came first.” He looked at the large number of ferrets. “And I’m vain enough to feel pride that my words helped you to decide. Jews don’t go in much for missionary work.”

Charles said, “Do you think that God will accept us as Jews? I mean… we’re not even human.”

Jakob’s smile turned wry. “Considering that there are some humans in this world that aren’t even human except by virtue of biology, I’m not worried.” He looked at Annabelle, who looked back at him, but she said nothing.

Daniel said, “Well – what do we do now? Is there some sort of ceremony?”

Rabbi Jakob thought for a moment. “Yes, there is – normally. A potential convert studies Judaism for a period of time – six months to a year, usually – under the oversight of a rabbi. This is a good time to explore Judaism and see if it’s the right decision. Then a Religious Court oversees the final conversion. An immersion in a body of water is required by some Jewish sects, and males are required to be circumcised.”

He looked over the ferrets, and could immediately tell which ones were males. He hastily continued, “But I think you’re a special case. A symbolic circumcision, perhaps, with only a drop of blood drawn.” There were tiny little sighs of relief.

Daniel said, “We’re more than willing to study for conversion, but we won’t stay around here for so many months. I don’t think we want to stay in England for that long. We’ll want to leave.”

“I understand, my little friend, and I don’t think you should stay here, either. As I say, you mark a special case. How many of you here truly want to embrace Judaism?”

All of the ferrets, except one, solemnly nodded.

“Very good. I would recommend the study of Judaism in the near future when you have the time, but for now – unofficially, mind you – I hereby declare you to be Jews. On this day, you have become children of Abraham.”

Daniel smiled. “Thank you Rabbi Jakob.”

“You’re welcome. I believe that I should recite a blessing for this event. If you will bow your heads – we don’t go in for kneeling – and pray with me.”

Daniel, Charles and all of the rest – except Annabelle – bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Miryam and Jakob bowed their heads and the rabbi began to speak.

“Lord our God, king of the Universe, praise be to You. Please welcome these creatures into the ranks and the hearts of Your people. From this day forward, please recognize them as being among the Chosen. Sanctify them with Your commandments and accept them into Your Covenant. We rejoice in the love and brotherhood, the peace and goodwill what You have given us. Praise be. Amen.”

Many high-pitched voices replied, “Amen.”

Miryam looked up and said, “I prepared some food to celebrate. I hope you all like it.”

Jakob sat down and enjoyed the atmosphere of joy and relaxation. He chatted with some of the ferrets, answered some questions and met some fine little creatures. At one point, two ferrets approached him. They were shy and a bit nervous, and the two held paws in a way that Jakob had seen so many times with humans. He knew what it meant.

One of the two said, “Rabbi? My name is Enoch and this is Esther.” The girl smiled at the human. Enoch continued. We wondered if you could help us. We – we want to get married.”

Jakob said, softly, “And so it begins. Such a wonderful thing to hear. You two are the first of what I am sure will be many to make such a commitment. I am deeply honored that you ask me. But –” His smile became something different. “Wouldn’t you prefer that the wedding be performed by your own rabbi?”

Enoch and Esther were surprised. “Our – own rabbi? Who –”

Jakob looked elsewhere. Enoch and Esther followed his gaze. Soon everyone was looking at one ferret.

Daniel couldn’t say a thing for the longest time. He just looked at the sea of faces. Finally he whispered, “Me?”

Jakob smiled and nodded.

Daniel stammered, “But – I can’t –”

“Stop.” Jakob pointed a finger at him. “I can tell you right now, my little friend, that isn’t going to work. I tried it myself.”

Miryam chuckled, not unkindly. “That’s true. But they didn’t listen and shipped him off to the seminary anyway. Whether that was a good idea in the long run – well, you can judge for yourself.”

Jakob leaned forward and said solemnly, “I do not make this pronouncement lightly, Daniel. I have observed you closely ever since I met you, and you have a quick mind and a good soul. You have shown yourself to be a fine leader, and you have been a counselor to someone in great pain.” He looked at Annabelle, who was looking thoughtfully at Daniel. “I believe you to have the traits that make a good Rabbi. I urge you to accept.”

“As do I.” Annabelle stepped forward and stood in front of Daniel. “I think – I know that your brother would want this for you.”

Daniel looked at Annabelle. He didn’t see the shutters behind her eyes anymore. And he looked at Jakob and Miryam and at all the ferrets in the room. Finally he looked back at Jakob and quietly and firmly said, “Yes.”

The human rabbi nodded. “I knew that you’d say that. And to mark your acceptance, my beloved wife made some gifts for you last night.”

Miryam knelt down in front of the ferret and removed two items from her pocket. She held them out and said, “I sincerely hope you like them.”

Daniel took the small skullcap from her hands and gazed at it with an open mouth. It was black with a simple red trim. He looked back to Jakob and said, “It’s just like yours!”

Jakob nodded. “Oh, yes. She made this one, too. I can assure you that it will last you a long time. And when the time comes, someone else will wear it.”

“It’s – beautiful.”

Daniel took the other object from Miryam. It was a long piece of blue silk cloth with tassels on the ends. Miryam said, “It’s a prayer shawl. I think it’s long enough for you.”

Daniel looked at the yarmulke and shawl for a long time. He couldn’t think of a thing to say, and he wasn’t sure what to do. Finally he did what he felt was best. He brought the yarmulke up to his lips and gently kissed it. He then placed it on his head. It fit perfectly.

Daniel then kissed the tasseled ends of the prayer shawl and settled it on his shoulders. The silk was cool and soft to the touch.

Rabbi Daniel turned to the other ferrets. These creatures were his responsibility now. His congregation. Every one of them smiled at him with pride, including Annabelle.

Daniel turned to the humans and said, “Thank you –” He couldn’t say anything else for the lump of his throat.

Finally he managed to say, “What do we do now?”

Jakob replied, “Ordinarily, one attends a seminary for several months to learn to become a rabbi. But this is not an ordinary situation. You will be leaving soon. I’ve already talked to a friend, and we’ll have to help you learn as much as you can while you’re still here. Let’s say that you’ll be a rabbi-in-training for now. When you’ve settled down in a permanent home, you can learn more at your leisure. Besides, you have a wedding to perform.”

The human turned to Enoch and Esther. “In a Jewish wedding, it is customary for the bride and groom to not see each other for the week before the wedding.” The two ferrets looked at each other, and then nodded at Jakob. “We will teach your Rabbi what we can about the wedding ceremony in that week. We may have to cut a few corners about traditions, but, this is not an ordinary situation. You will be married in the eyes of God.”


He turned to Daniel. “There are other things you must learn, of course. We will teach you something of the Torah – the most holy of the writings of the Jewish bible – and the Talmud – Rabbinic discussions and scholarship about Jewish law. I will see that you receive copies when you leave.

“For now, the first order of business – a blessing of your congregation, perhaps?”

Daniel looked at the ferrets. “What should I say?”

Jakob replied, “Blessings don’t necessarily come in words.”

Rabbi Daniel nodded. He turned again to the other ferrets and smiled. His congregation bowed their heads, as did Miryam and Jakob.

Rabbi Daniel bowed his own head. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to raise his paws and hold them out.


The ferret Rabbi never did know if Annabelle bowed her head with the rest. He felt it was wise not to ask.

##########################

That evening there was a knock at the door, a bit higher up on the panel this time. Jakob opened to reveal a frail old man, leaning on a cane, with a plain black yarmulke on his head. Old Abraham was all smiles when he said, “Jakob, my boy! Good to see you!” and slowly shuffled in. He wrapped his wrinkled arms around Jakob and gave him a bear hug that left the Rabbi gasping for breath.

Old Abraham stepped back and said, “Now, then, my boy, what was it you asked me over here about?”

“Abraham, old friend, I want you to meet someone. This is Daniel.” He indicated a ferret standing on its hind legs nearby. The creature was wearing a skullcap.

The ferret said, “How do you do, sir? I’m pleased to meet you.”

The old human smiled and said, “And I’m very pleased to meet you.” He looked up at Jakob. “That’s very good. How did you do it?”

Jakob replied, “Beg pardon?”

“Is it ventriloquism? I’ve heard about how some people can throw their voices. Whatever it is, it’s very good.”

Jakob smiled politely to keep from laughing. “Oh, there’s no trick, I assure you, Abraham. This fellow really can talk on his own.”

Old Abraham looked down at the ferret. Daniel said, “That’s true, sir. I can talk and think on my own.”

Abraham looked at him for a few moments, and then looked up at Jakob again. He said solemnly, “A talking ferret? You know that’s impossible for someone to believe.”

Jakob nodded.

Old Abraham broke into a grin that creased his face with scores of wrinkles and held up a finger. “And I believe it! Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” He looked down at Daniel. “I say that all the time.”

Jakob said, “He does, you know. He’s well-known for it. I mentioned the phrase to Mr. Dodgson the other day, Abraham; he was quite taken with it.”

“The Mathematician at Christ Church? Fine man. He’s welcome to use the phrase if he wishes to. Very well, Jakob, we have a talking ferret. Is there something we can do for him?”

“Yes, there is, old friend. As you can see, he wears a yarmulke. He and others of his kind converted to the Faith today. And Daniel here has elected to become their Rabbi.”

Old Abraham cocked his head to one side. “Jewish ferrets? A ferret Rabbi? Still nowhere near six impossible things to believe. I rather like the idea.”

“I knew you would. But he needs our help. I want to teach him about the Laws – or at least as much as we can in a week’s time. He has a wedding to perform. And I thought you were as good a teacher as any.”

“Ah.” Old Abraham said to Daniel, “How about you? There’s much we can teach you. Are you ready to learn?”

Rabbi Daniel nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Old Abraham seemed to be the type that everyone called “Sir”. “I’m eager to learn.”

Abraham nodded and said, “I sense that you are, young one.” He looked up at Jakob. “Right. It’s an hour before Evening Services. How about we take him over to the temple and show him the Torah? That seems a good place to start.”

Jakob replied, “I agree.”

“Well, then, shall we go?” Old Abraham leaned on his cane. “I ask you both to please be kind to an old man and not walk too fast.”

Old Abraham set the pace toward the synagogue, and Jakob and Daniel were hard put to keep up with the old man. While he still had his breath, Daniel turned to Jakob and softly went, “Hsst.”

Jakob looked down and said, “Yes?”

“I like him.”

Jakob smiled. “As do I, friend. A congregation would do well to contain someone like Old Abraham.”


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 14

The temple was an unpretentious little building that couldn’t hold more than about a hundred humans, but when he walked through the door, Daniel could feel a deep and abiding peace. To him, it felt like home.

Old Abraham had laughed and joked with the two Rabbis during the walk, but now he was solemn. Daniel watched as the two humans walked to a small cabinet set in the wall to one side of the simple altar.

Softly – one could not raise his voice in this place – Rabbi Jakob said to Daniel, “This cabinet is called an ark. And inside –” Abraham opened the doors of the cabinet, and Jakob reached inside and gently too something out “– is the Sefer Torah.”

The object was a tall fabric cylinder with the ends of two wooden dowels sticking out of one end; on the other end was what looked like a small crown. Jakob held the cylinder down, and Abraham removed the crown; it turned out that this covered the other ends of the dowels. Hanging around the rollers was a silver chain, and from this hung what looked like a small shield which glittered with shiny stones; Abraham removed this as well.

Jakob grasped the dowels at one end of the cylinder and Abraham carefully pulled the cylinder up and away. Inside was a large scroll wrapped around the two rollers. Slowly, reverently, Jakob placed this scroll on the altar and unrolled it. He smiled at Daniel and beckoned him up to the altar.

The ferret leapt up to the altar and looked down at the scroll. It was filled with words in a language he didn’t know, delicately and beautifully handwritten.

Jakob said, “Behold, my friend, the Torah. It contains the five Books of Moses – our Laws. A Sefer Torah is a holy thing.”

Abraham said, “One is careful not to touch it, because of its holiness and because we want to preserve it from the ravages of handling.”

Daniel carefully leaned forward and studied the writing. They were right about the holiness – he could practically feel it coming from this remarkable document.

“What is this language?” he asked.

Jakob replied, “Hebrew. It is that tongue of our ancestors.”

Daniel thought for a moment and said, softly, “We have records of our lives and of our history – they date back almost to when the first of our kind was born. The first generation had… a knack. It wasn’t so much that they learned how to read as that the words just appeared in their heads. As if something – or someone – was putting them there. We believe that there’s a rational explanation for our sudden development of the capability of reasoning. But the appearance of words in our heads… that may qualify as supernatural. Or as a miracle.”

Jakob and Abraham looked at each other. Old Abraham finally nodded and said, “It sounds like a miracle to me.”

Daniel sighed. “Alas, subsequent generations seem to have lost that ability. We have to learn to read and learn new words like human children.” He smiled at them. “Still, we’re quick learners. We should have no trouble learning Hebrew.”

Jakob smiled. “Very good. Fortunately, I have English translations of the Torah and the Talmud in book form. I can let you have access to them.”

“Thank you. There are some of us who are superb at transcription. They can copy those books down in little time at all. And if you have Hebrew versions, they can copy those, too. It will help us learn the language.”

The ferret Rabbi looked at the sacred scroll. “And someday… We shall make a Sefer Torah of our own.”

##########################

Rabbi Jakob stayed away from the synagogue for a full two weeks due to illness. At least that’s what he said. His congregation expressed their regrets and wished him a full recovery, but he got few visitors inquiring about his health. If any members of the congregation suspected what was really going on, they never mentioned it. They did send large amounts of food around to his house, and it should be noted that these offerings tended to be meat-based.

Behind the privacy of the front door, the Rabbi’s house was full of activity. Jakob and Abraham taught the ferrets a lot about Jewish history and traditions. The two humans taught quite a lot in particular to Daniel – the duties of a Rabbi, the prayers, the holidays, the wedding ceremony, the Law of Moses. Miryam taught much also – dietary restrictions, special holiday meals, the role of the woman in the Jewish community.

The greatest activity took place in the Rabbi’s library. To their dying days, Jakob sand Abraham would refer, with awe in their voices, to the Transcription.

All day, and into the night, a group of ferrets would be poring over the Torah and the Talmud, in both languages, and writing word after tiny word on pages of foolscap. One would have expected four separate groups would have been transcribing the four books, but it was not as simple as that. Both the Hebrew and English translations would be studied together, to compare language words and language. And those transcribing the Talmud would constantly refer to the Torah, to clarify a philosophical point here and there. Old Abraham liked watching the Transcription, and he would happily answer the many questions that the ferrets would ask. He told Jakob later, “I wish my other students were this committed.”

And one figure moved through all of this activity like he was ten ferrets. Daniel seemed to be everywhere, listening to Jakob tell a story of Moses, watching Miryam preparing matzoh, asking Old Abraham about this passage of the Torah or that paragraph of the Talmud. A Transcriber would not be surprised to look up and see a ferret wearing a black yarmulke with red trim looking over his shoulder.

Daniel and the ferrets would still have a lot to learn, but in the time they were with the humans, they soaked up as much knowledge as they could, and they soaked it up like so many furry sponges.

##########################

It was early evening, and Rabbi Jakob was in his library, going over his books and writing down notes on a sheet of foolscap. He wanted to bequeath some of his own thoughts and observations to Daniel.

The humans learned things, too. Earlier that day, Charles had told him what male and female ferrets were called. He found the term “jill” to be delightful enough, but he had been fascinated by the word “hob”. It almost sounded like a Hebrew name.

Jakob was tired. It had been a long day. He hadn’t known that someone else had come into the room until a small voice said, “Rabbi?”

Jakob looked down and saw a ferret standing by the door. He recognized who it was and was surprised.

“Annabelle, isn’t it? How do you do? Is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, Rabbi. I want to talk with you.”

“Certainly.” Jakob leaned back in his chair. “Would you mind terribly much coming up onto my desk? I’d be happy to sit down on the floor with you, but I’m afraid that getting up again would be an ordeal.”

“That’s fine.” Annabelle climbed up onto the desk and faced the human. She didn’t seem hostile now, just quiet and reserved.

Jakob asked, “How are your children?”

“Thank you for asking. Little William is very confused. He knows that something has happened, but he can’t understand what, and he can’t understand where his Papa is. He’s young. He will come to terms with the loss. Matilda is older. It’s harder for her. She’s angry all of the time, and she’s shut herself off from almost everyone. I’ll have to work long and hard to help her accept what’s happened.”

Jakob nodded. “You know that Daniel will help you all that he can. He loves you and he loves your children.”

“I know.”

“What is it that you wanted to talk to me about, little one?”

Annabelle looked down at the desktop for several moments. Finally she looked up at the human. There was the hint of a glisten in her eyes. “Rabbi, I came here to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For hating you. For hating you and your wife. I am so sorry.”

Jakob’s voice was gentle. “There is no need to apologize. Your feelings are understandable. A human robbed you of something precious. Over the centuries, my people have been robbed in such a way. Many times.”

“I realize that not all humans are evil. You and Miryam and Abraham have been so kind to us. It has helped us so much. It –” Annabelle stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. She continued, “I don’t understand, Rabbi. Why does it have to hurt?”

Jakob thought for a long time before he answered. “We of the Jewish faith consider suffering to be a punishment for having done wrong. But that’s not a completely satisfactory answer. Sometimes we are victimized, and try as we might, we can’t figure out what sin we’ve committed. Why does God allow suffering to exist? I don’t know.

“Maybe it’s not a case of Him allowing us to suffer as it is a case of Him allowing us to feel. Maybe the pain of loss is the price we pay for having been given the gift of love. I know how much you loved your David.”

“Oh, yes!”

“And you hurt for him. But has that lessened the feeling of love?”

Annabelle shook her head. “No. I still love him so.”

“And you always will. No amount of pain can take that away. Do you know, Daniel told me what happened at the Museum? Tell me, little one – and tell me truthfully – would you have killed that man?”

Annabelle was quiet for a moment. “At the time, I thought that I would, but now – I don’t know.”

“Well, he died anyway. It’s already becoming the talk of London. He has paid for his transgression. Has it made you feel any better?” Jacob’s voice was gentle.

Annabelle didn’t hesitate. “No, Rabbi. It has not. I thought it might. But I feel – I feel sad for him.”

Jakob nodded. “You are not a killer, little one. You hurt now, but you are a kind soul. As kind as Rabbi Daniel is. You daughter Matilda will have to face her pain, but with such a wonderful mother, I believe that she will be fine.”

Annabelle looked at the human and softly said, “Thank you, Rabbi.”

“You’re welcome, little one.”

“Rabbi, will you do something for me?”

“And what may that be?”

“Please pray for my children. And for me.”

“I will ask God if he will look after you. For Jews, prayer isn’t so much a request for something that we don’t have, as it is an offering of thanks for what we have, but it won’t hurt to ask Him. I can, however, offer up a prayer of thanks for you and for your loved ones. Especially –” He reached forward and touched the ferret’s belly. “– this one.”

“Don’t do that!” Annabelle clutched her stomach and giggled. “That tickles!”

Jakob threw back his head and laughed a rich, hearty laugh from the heart. Annabelle, her paws still on her belly, laughed, too.

Then she looked up at him, with tears streaming down her cheeks, and smiled.


It was not long after that Rabbi Daniel and Miryam walked into the Rabbi’s library. Daniel was saying, “So each of the foods on the Passover Seder Plate has special significance, you say? We’ll have to study them to see which is edible to a ferret. We may have to come up with substitutes –”

Miryam held a finger up to her lips and Daniel stopped talking. Miryam pointed to the desk.

Jakob was leaning back in his chair, fast asleep. Daniel listened to his raspy snoring. But he heard someone else’s regular breathing. The ferret quietly stepped around to see Jakob better.

Curled up in the human Rabbi’s lap was Annabelle. She was sleeping, too.

Rabbi Daniel smiled at Miryam and the two of them slipped silently out the door.

##########################

Jakob and Miryam later agreed that, with a single exception, it was the best wedding that they’d ever attended; the exception was, of course, their own. Old Abraham was wise enough to not make comparisons, but he thought Enoch and Esther’s wedding was splendid.

Miryam had taken an old prayer shawl and fixed it up into a finely ornate marriage canopy that was set up on four poles in their back garden, and a wooden box served as an altar. The canopy was surrounded by scores of ferrets, many wearing yarmulkes of many colors; Miryam had been busy.

Rabbi Daniel had chosen his friend Charles as his congregation’s cantor, and the ferret had an exquisite singing voice. After the groom’s procession to the canopy and later, while the bride circled her groom, Charles sang brief hymns in Hebrew, and he did it well.

Rabbi Daniel recited the Kiddushin blessing in both Hebrew and English. Jakob listened to this with a critical ear and gave a faint nod of approval. Daniel had learned well.

The ceremony followed the traditions – the tasting from the cup of wine, the reading of the marriage contract, the recital of the vows and the betrothal of the bride with a simple gold ring. Miryam gently squeezed the hand of her husband. Rabbi Daniel recited the Seven Blessings, again in Hebrew and English.

There was a small glass perfume bottle sitting on the altar. Miryam had insisted that it was just an old thing that didn’t mean much to her, and the ferrets were welcome to use it. Daniel suspected that it had more value to the human than she had let on, but he could not refuse the gift. Now he took the bottle from the altar and placed it on the ground.

This was the part that Rabbi Daniel and his friends had given a lot of thought to. Ferrets don’t wear shoes as a rule, but this was a special case. They had settled on wrapping Enoch’s feet in scraps of old leather. Daniel thought that they might need to develop special shoes for this in the future.

Enoch brought his right foot, encased in stout leather, down on the bottle and shattered it. He then kissed his new wife.

Daniel never did find out if anyone else in Rabbi Jakob’s congregation knew of the ferrets. But he had his suspicions. Only three humans attended the wedding, but he could have sworn that he heard more than three human voices shouting “MAZEL TOV!” when the ceremony was done.

There was a reception that night, and several more in the days that followed. Everyone danced and laughed and ate and drank and danced and celebrated much more than just a wedding. A door had opened and a new life had begun for all of them.

##########################

Two days later, Daniel took time away from the celebrations to sit down and talk with the three humans. It was time to make serious plans.

Miryam’s voice seemed to have a catch when she spoke. “So, you and your – your people will be leaving soon?”

Rabbi Daniel smiled and replied, “Well – we’re your people now. But, yes, we’ll be going soon. Not long after the celebrations are over, I believe.”

Old Abraham seemed unusually subdued when he said, “The important question as I see it is – where will you go?”

Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know. I honestly have no idea. The idea has been to leave something behind. But we have to have some destination. The best I’ve thought is somewhere in Europe – some place where we can live in peace.”

Miryam said, “You don’t have to leave, you know. We would love to have you stay here.”

Daniel said, “I know. You have treated us so kindly. But this place – this city – we can’t stay here.”

Jakob thought for a moment before saying. “I don’t want you to leave, either. I understand why you feel that you must, though, and if you insist – I may have an idea…” He reached for a large book on a nearby shelf. He flipped through the pages and then laid the book on the table.

It was a map of Europe. Jakob pointed at a country in the center of the continent. “This is the Kingdom of Poland. I know a Rabbi in Lodz – a fellow named Niewielki. He might have a place for you.”

Daniel studied the map. The journey would not be an easy one. They would have to travel across France and various small baronies like Hanover and Hesse. But it could be done. He looked up at Jakob. “Will he accept us?”

“I have known Niewielki for many years. He is a good friend and an understanding man. I have no doubt that he would welcome you. I will write a letter telling him that you are coming. It will most likely reach him before you do.”

Daniel looked at the map again. “We have no choice. I know I can trust your word.” He sighed. “Now we need to worry about crossing the Channel.”

Jakob smiled. “I may be able to help you there as well. I know someone with transportation.”


To be continued…

[pauljmsn]

Part 15

The boatman was middle-aged, somewhat saggy around the middle, with spiky grey hair and a bristly mustache that could have been used to scrub out iron pots. He also seemed completely unconcerned about the fact that his passengers were small, furry and numbered in the hundreds. He was genial to the ferrets, as if he carried on pleasant conversations with talking animals all the time. Sooner or later, one of the ferrets was bound to ask him why he was transporting them across the English Channel. The only response he gave – the only response he needed to give, really – was to smile and say, “Salt of the Earth, Rabbi Jakob is. I’d go to the ends of the world for that man.”

The ferrets never learned the boatman’s name.

The boatman kept a critical eye on the weather. Evening was falling, and it was cloudy and the English Channel was choppy. He stood by the dock and watched his little passengers hop on the boat. It was a vessel that had seen many crossings from England to France, but it was kept in excellent repair. It was plenty big enough to hold all of the ferrets.

But not all of the ferrets were making the crossing.

Rabbi Daniel stared at the Leader of the Skippys and slowly shook his head.

Daniel said, “I cannot believe that I’m hearing this. You’re telling me that you and the Skippys will be staying?”

Skippy replied, “No, not all of us. There is a group – about a third of us – that will make the journey with you. I and most of us, however, will not.”

“But… but why? After all that has happened here in England, after what the humans have done to us, why would you want to stay here?”

Skippy pointed to the dock. Rabbi Jakob and the boatman were bending down and listening to something that Charles was saying. The two humans threw their heads backed and laughed.

Skippy said, “As you yourself have told us, not all of the humans here are evil. I believe that if we’re careful, we won’t be bothered.

“There is much that we can learn from them, Daniel. We’re fascinated by this industrial age of theirs. We want to stay here and observe all that we can, learn what we can. The Skippys have looked at their steam engines and their telegraph system. I’ve seen one steam engine and already I’m figuring ways to improve it. The humans have talked about laying down a Transatlantic telegraph cable; they’re bound to do that successfully in only a few years. We especially want to study their shipbuilding methods. The Skippys’ ultimate goal is to build a seagoing vessel of our own. When the time comes – when we’re ready – then we’ll leave and go somewhere else.”

Daniel looked at him for a moment and nodded. “Ahh. I understand. The Skippys don’t really want to stay here in the long run, do they?”

“No, we don’t. Our long-range goal is to cross the Atlantic and settle in America.”

Daniel raised his eyebrows. “America? Are you certain that that’s a good idea? The States are in an uproar now over the issue of slavery. There’s actually been some bloodshed in the Kansas Territory. The country is a powder keg, and it only needs a small spark to set it off. I think that America will be in a civil war over slavery within a decade. And you actually want to travel to an unsettled place like that?”

“Yes. We do. I’ve read the newspapers as you have, Daniel. America is headed for war, no doubt, and I think it will come even sooner than you say. But America is so… alive. It’s new in ways that England and Europe haven’t been in centuries. I can feel it just from the newspaper accounts that we’ve read. If ever there is a place that we can settle in and make something of ourselves, it’s America. That’s why we of the Skippys want to go there someday. We want to fulfill the promise that the country holds. In any case, it will be some time before we can make the ocean crossing; by then, the civil war might be over. Who knows? It might even be safe to settle in Kansas!

“Besides –” Even in the failing light, Daniel thought that he could detect a twinkle in Skippy’s eye. “– the place that you’re traveling to is even more unsettled than America. I think that we’ll see war in the Balkans sooner or later. Are you certain that you want to travel there?”

Rabbi Daniel smiled. “Touché. Come to think of it, some of Kirk’s breeder ferrets traveled to America. Some of our kind may already be in Canada. It will be something to investigate.” He placed his paws on the other’s shoulders. “Well, then, all that I have left to say is – I wish you luck.”

Skippy smiled. “And I wish you luck. Whatever you do – keep your own Chronicles. The Skippys will certainly continue ours.”

Daniel nodded. “We will write everything down. The bones –”

“The Skippys will care for the remains of our people. I promise you.”

That seemed to be that. The two ferrets nodded farewell. Without ceremony, Skippy turned, and he and a large group of Skippys walked off into the dusk.

Rabbi Daniel watched them go. The two humans walked up behind to watch as well.

Jakob said, “I don’t understand – aren’t they leaving with you?”

Daniel sighed. “No. They want to stay here. I guess that we ferret folk have reached the point where some of us go our own separate ways. Perhaps all people reach that point.”

“I believe you are right, little friend.”

The boatman said, “Far as I’m concerned, that’s fewer stomachs to empty their contents on the way over.” He said, more softly, “Good luck to ‘em. I talked with some of those Skippy-types. Good, smart lads.”

Daniel said, “You might be getting to know them fairly well. They want to learn something about shipbuilding.”

“I’ll teach ‘em all I know and be proud of it.”

A ferret came up to Daniel. It was Nicholas. “Rabbi, I believe that we’re all aboard.” He looked at the Skippys disappearing in the gloom. “All of us that are going. We’re just waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” Rabbi Daniel looked up at Rabbi Jakob. “I’ve said this so many times in the last few days, but we can never thank you enough. You’ve done so much for us.”

The two Rabbis shook hand and paw and Daniel continued. “We will honor you and Miryam always.”

“And we will remember you, as well, little friend.”

The boatman cleared his throat. “I think – I think it’s time we cast off. Your Rabbiship.”

Daniel and Jakob looked at each other, and the ferret turned to board the boat. Once he was aboard, the two humans nodded and made gestures of good-bye. The boatman took up the small crucifix he wore around his neck and kissed it. He crossed himself and boarded the boat.

Soon the boat was pulling from the dock. For the longest time, the ferret Rabbi watched the human Rabbi, still standing on the shore.

##########################

The crossing was rough. Not all of the little passengers emptied their stomachs like the boatman had said, but plenty of them did.

Rabbi Daniel found his sea legs soon enough, and kept his last meal down. He had to care for his brother’s son William, who was fussy and unhappy with this strange rocking thing. William’s sister Matilda had settled down to a major sulk, which thankfully kept her out of the way.

Daniel carried William over to the railing to check on his mother. Annabelle was doubly cursed, with seasickness and morning sickness. When Daniel came up to her, she raised her head from over the railing and stared at him. Daniel had never seen a ferret’s face exhibit quite that color before. Neither had William; he was so fascinated by the sight of his suffering mother that he forgot to make a fuss.

Annabelle didn’t so much speak as croak. “Daniel – is this what dying feels like?”

“Um… I’m not sure. It might.”

“If it does, I want no part of it.” She hung her head over the railing again.

Since the leader of the Skippys had stayed behind, Skippy was now in charge. He came up to Rabbi Daniel, along with Skippy. “Rabbi?”

Daniel looked at him and knew what he was going to say. “You’ll be leaving us as well?”

“Well, not out here in the middle of the English Channel, no, but as soon as we reach France, the rest of the Skippys will be parting company with you.”

Daniel nodded. “I suppose I’m not surprised. The Skippys have been a force unto themselves for as long as I can remember. So France will be it for you?”

“Yes. We’ve decided to settle in the Champagne province. From what little we’ve read, we think that we’ll like it there.”

“We’ll miss you and the others, friend. But you have your own destiny to fulfill. Do you think that France will change the Skippys?”

“I think that it will. For one thing, I think that we’ll call ourselves the Skippés.”

Beside him, Skippy cleared her throat rather loudly.

Skippy said, “Oh, yes, and some of us will be known as Skippées.” He sighed. “French is such a complicated language.”

##########################

Rabbi Niewielki was a quiet, unprepossessing man, slow to react and with his head in the clouds much of the time. It was easy to come to the conclusion that he was stupid, a mistake that people made at their peril. He’d been Rabbi to the Lodz synagogue for only two years, but his congregation learned – the hard way – to treat him with respect.

At the moment he was researching the Talmud on some point that might help settle a dispute between two rather stubborn old men in his temple. Then a knock came at his front door.

Niewielki got up to go to the door when the knock came again. That was odd. The noise seemed to come from near the bottom of the door panel. Was someone lying on his stomach out there?

The Rabbi opened the door. Six ferrets stood on his front stoop. Three of them were wearing skullcaps. The one in front wore a yarmulke of black with red trim. That one said, “Excuse us, but are you Rabbi Niewielki?”

Rabbi Niewielki felt himself relax. “Oh, good. I received a rather odd letter from my friend Jakob in England and I’d been worrying about his sanity ever since. It’s nice to see proof that he’s in his right mind. Unless –” The human frowned. “– unless I’m going mad myself. That’s possible, I suppose.”

“If you were mad, would you worry about your sanity? No, you’re not mad, sir, we are ferrets.”

“Ah. Well, God works in mysterious ways, and such as that. You must be Rabbi Daniel.” He knelt down and shook Daniel’s paw.

Niewielki stood up again. “If I understand right from Jakob’s letter, you and your folk have come to Lodz to find a place to stay, is that right?”

Daniel nodded. “We have traveled all the way here from England. It was not an easy journey, especially through the Balkans. The humans didn’t know what to make of us, and we were fortunate that none of us lost our lives.”

“But why here? This place is not friendly to Jews, and people will be deeply suspicious of any… abnormal creatures. If you settle here, you will be persecuted that much more, for your religion and your – please do not take this wrong – unhumanness.”

Daniel hung his head and sighed. “I know. We saw that in our travels. But we could not stay in England – Jakob wrote to you about what happened to my brother. We want to find some place in the world where we won’t be treated as evil or as freaks to be exploited. Perhaps this will not be the place, perhaps it will. But we want to try.” He looked up at Rabbi Niewielki. “We’ve come a long way and we are so tired. Please do not turn us away.”

Rabbi Niewielki smiled. “I certainly will not. I’m vain enough to think that I’m a bit more open-minded than my fellow man. I cannot say the same for my neighbors, or even my congregation. You may not receive a friendly reception in the temple.”

“I understand. We will build a synagogue of our own. It’s not like it will be competition for yours.”

“I can see that already.” He looked beyond the ferrets. An elderly man was shuffling down the street.

The ferrets turned around and looked. The old man stared at them for a moment, made some sort of odd gesture with his fingers and scuttled on his way.

Daniel turned around. “What was that sign he made?”

Niewielki shook his head. “It was to ward off evil.” A mother and daughter walked by. The little girl stopped and stared at the ferrets. She didn’t look frightened, and a small smile started to play along her lips. Her mother grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away. Niewielki said, “It’s started already, I’m afraid. You and your companions might want to stay out of sight for a time.”

Daniel turned around. “No. My kind hid ourselves from humans for over sixty years. We won’t hide anymore.”

Niewielki looked down at the ferret for a few moments. He then said, “Jakob mentioned that you’d want my help.”

“Yes. My congregation wants to learn what its like to be a Jew. And I want to learn to be a Rabbi.”

Niewielki nodded. “Well, then, Rabbi Daniel, I welcome you and your congregation to Lodz.” He knelt down again and the two Rabbis shook hand and paw.


To be concluded…

[pauljmsn]

Part 16

The present day

Little Levi squirmed in his Mama’s lap, until she bent down and gently shushed him and kissed him. It was past his naptime and Levi was bored and cranky. He couldn’t understand what the grownups were doing. The room was packed with ferrets, and they all were watching a big TV. Why weren’t they watching cartoons?

The High-Definition television screen was taller than a ferret and covered an entire wall of the Head Skippy’s office. As big as this HDTV screen was, there were several others even larger, set up in the Main Cafeteria and in the Main Factory Building 37 of the Skippy Compound. In front of each screen were hundreds of Skippys. The SkippySat was beaming a live picture of a drab December day of the county of Yorkshire to these and other TV screens scattered across three countries. Pictured in the center of the screen was a column of old brick.

The Head Skippy, bundled up in an anorak against the December cold, appeared in the screen and looked into the camera. His voice came from a large set of speakers in the office, “Right, the camera’s set up. Can you see and hear me okay?”

The Second-In-Command Skippy, sitting at the Head Skippy’s desk, spoke into a microphone. “Coming through loud and clear, boss.”

“Good. Make a check of the other feeds.”

Second-In-Command Skippy flipped a switch and said, “Other satellite feeds, please check in. Toronto?”

Other voices came from the speakers.

“This is Constable Murphy in Toronto. The reception here is fine. The instruments show no problems with the feeds going to the other ferret communities in Canada.”

“Check. Oregon?”

“This is Max in Portland, Oregon. The signal here is coming through just fine.”

“Check. Did the ferret colony up in the mountains come into town to see this, like we’d planned?”

”Oh, yes. Mom, Dad and the rest of our family came in about half an hour ago. They said they wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“Fine. Sammy, how’s the feed to your synagogue?”

”Superb. The temple’s full of ferrets here to watch this. Some of these people I haven’t seen since Rosh Hashanah. Believe me, I won’t let them forget it, either. It’s a pity I can’t be there with my family.”

Second-In-Command Skippy smiled over at Clarissa. “I’m sure the Rebbitzin understands that a Rabbi has his duties. Okay, how’s the link to France?”

The Head Skippée’s heavily accented voice sounded. ”The signal is excellent, Mon Ami. The picture and sound are clear.”

“Due in no small part to your people’s own technical skills. Thank you again. Okay, boss, the signals are coming through fine.”

In Yorkshire, the Head Skippy said, “I expect no less. Well done. It’s a shame that we couldn’t get a live feed to the Lodz ferret community.”

“Couldn’t be helped, boss. They just don’t have the infrastructure there. We’ve got the recorders running, though. If nothing else, we can get them a video record, someday.”

“Excellent. I see no reason to delay any further.”

The Head Skippy stepped back to the brick column and faced the videocam. He pulled the hood of his anorak back and bared his head. He’d written his speech earlier, but didn’t need any notes to recite it from memory. Of course not. He was a Skippy.

The Head Skippy cleared his throat and began to speak in his strong, clear voice.

“Gentlebeings,

“Everything has a beginning. Mustela sapiens is no different than anything else in that way.

“In the Skippy Chronicles, we have strong evidence as to when and where our kind first appeared. In the Chronicles, we have an unbroken thread that runs continuously back to the very first entry, made in 1796. Our brothers and sisters, the Skippés and Skippées, have their own records, the Chronique, which begins in 1856 as a branch of our own Chronicles. We must remember that we’ve been very fortunate that these threads have remained unbroken over the years. Since 1856, the community of ferrets in Lodz has suffered the effects of persecution over and over again, and their records were lost a long time ago. Their good fortune has been their survival.

“The Skippy Chronicles state that our kind first appeared in 1796 in this area – the village of Wold Newton. But they do not answer the most important question – why? Why did we appear? The Skippys have performed extensive physiological examinations of Mustela sapiens and have come to the conclusion that we are a genetic mutation, probably as the result of the exposure of our ferret ancestors to some unique form of radiation. But that only begs the question. Where did the radiation come from? We will never know. We can only guess. We have found that in this location, in that time period, an event took place that was so rare that it rated its own monument. And this is the monument here. I will read the inscription:

“‘Here on this spot, December 13, 1795 fell from the atmosphere an extraordinary stone. In breadth twenty-eight inches, in length thirty-six inches and whose weight was fifty-six pounds. This column in memory of it was erected by Edward Topham, 1799.’

“The stone was an ordinary chondrite. It was the first observed meteorite fall in Britain. It was also the only unusual event to happen in the time period before the first of our kind was born. The Skippys theorize that this particular meteorite was radioactive at the time and triggered the genetic mutation that resulted in Mustela sapiens. We cannot confirm this. We have conducted extensive tests of the area, but there are no traces of radiation at this date, beyond the usual background noise. And there the matter would stand, except for the investigations that the Skippys have recently conducted in, of all things, human genealogy.

“On December 13, 1795, eighteen humans were riding by the village of Wold Newton when the meteorite struck the earth only twenty yards from their two coaches. The Skippys have identified these humans and have managed to trace their descendants down to the present day. Those descendants have developed high intelligence and strength and an exceptional capacity for good – or evil. The humans in these family trees include some of the most extraordinary people to walk the earth, both as heroes and as villains. We will not name those people today; this is not their story.

“There was a third vehicle nearby – a cart driven by a ferreter that we know only as Kirk. The cart carried his entire stock of breeding ferrets. Some of them were to be delivered to his brother, to be carried to Canada. Kirk would keep the rest for himself. Those breeding ferrets would become the parents of the first of our kind.

“It is our belief, based on this circumstantial evidence, that whatever created these extraordinary humans – be it radiation or the manipulations of some higher power – also created us.

“And we are here today, on this 13th of December, to honor the ferret breeder Kirk, to honor those remarkable humans who share a common heritage with us, and to honor ourselves.”

The Head Skippy stepped back and watched as two Skippys brought a horseshoe wreath of yellow roses and placed it in front of the monument to the Wold Newton meteor. The Head Skippy thought for a moment that he could just see, out of the corner of his eye, a phantom horde of hundreds of ferrets, smiling at him. But when he turned his head, there was nothing there.

THE END

The characters Murphy, Sammy, Max, Clarissa, Levi, Skippy, Skippy, Skippy, Skippy, etc., are copyright 2008 by Paul E. Jamison. All characters are fictional; any resemblance between these characters and real people, living or dead, is unintentional.

Jewish and Yiddish references:

A Sefer Torah is a specially handwritten copy of the Torah on a scroll. It is one of the holiest objects in a synagogue. As I describe, it is so holy that it is untouched by human hands. A proper Sefer Torah is contained in a cloth cylinder called a mantle. The scroll is rolled on two wooden rollers called Eitz Chayim, and the mantle is decorated with a crown, mantle, sash and a breastplate, patterned after the garb of the temple’s High Priest. Because one mustn’t touch the scroll, a pointer called a Yad is included.

The Shacharit is the Morning prayer service at the synagogue. There are also afternoon and evening prayer services. It makes me wonder now how Rabbi Sammy has enough spare time for his adventures. The prayers in the morning service include the Tachanun, a prayer of supplication as part of the morning service (A longer prayer is recited on Mondays, Thursdays, Shabbat and holidays); and the Amidah, the central prayer of service; an opportunity for private prayer to God.

Kiddushin is, of course, the marriage betrothal, as with Sammy and Clarissa. And a Rebbitzin is a Rabbi’s wife.