SixSibs

Frank, following his role in the plan they’d laid, crept closer to the alligator’s nest. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he failed to notice the rock that was blocking his path. He fell flat, alerting the alligators of his presence, and he tried to jump up and run, but he seemed to be rooted to the ground, immovable. The alligator lumbered forward, it’s cavernous mouth opened wide, ready to swallow him whole. The alligator was upon him, it-

Francois woke up, his brow bathed in sweat. It was only a dream, he thought to himself. But try as he might he couldn’t get the idea that their plan wasn’t right one out of his head. Would killing really bring peace?

It was a long time before Francois went back to sleep.

Frank awoke late the next morning, and as he walked into the kitchen, the only one he found was Chubba, who was washing dishes.
“Where has everyone gone to?” Frank asked.
“Oh”, Chubba said. “Outside. I think they’re all uh swimmin’ at the moment.”
“But what about breakfast?”
“What about breakfast? It’s almost noon boy! Almost lunch time! We waited and waited for you to get up, but a body can only go without food for so long!”
Longer in your case than others, Frank thought to himself. He didn’t think that Chubba would appreciate it if he said it, so instead he asked for something to eat.
“Late as it is”, Chubba said, “Might as well trot down to the beach and tell all of them water rats to come up for lunch!”
Frank obeyed, and they soon gathered around a table loaded with wonderful things to eat. After Stubba blessed the food, they all began eating. There were turnip greens and green beans, corn on the kernel and corn bread, baked shrimp, boiled crab, fried okra, key lime pie, and home made root beer, which Stubba was very fond of, guzzling pint after pint.
There was a great quantity of laughter an belt loosening during the meal, but after it, talk turned to serious matters.
“So where’d yuh go yesterday?” Bubba asked Frank.
“I went to scout out the location of the nest.
“You could’ve scouted out the location of every nest, twig, bird, bush, and rock in the time that you were gone from here!”
“Yes, I had a few mishaps that impeded me from making a swift and timely return.”
“Such as?”
“I accidentally fell down a weasel hole.”
“What else? You could have fallen down 50 weasel holes in the time you took!”
“Well, I must admit I was rather fatigued, so I took a short rest.”
“How short?”
“Well… I meant to only close my eyes for a second, but I suppose I slept an hour or two.”
“Suppose?”
“Okay! I did!”
“Wall, that’s fine, just as long as yuh got back. But what did yuh find out about them thar gators? Does yuh know whar thar nest is sitcheated?”
“Yes I do.”
“Good. Then I guess we can begin our plans of attack. Right little mousy?”
Puffing out his shallow chest to prove that he wasn’t that small, he replied.
“Yes. I believe that, while it will be a hazardous and difficult undertaking, it is not an impossible one if it is undertaken with a due amount of care, caution, and clear thinking.”
They all then began forming a plan, using due amounts of care, caution, and clear thinking.

The sun was nearly overhead before Frank, cursing himself for his laziness, woke. He sat up tried to get his bearings. Everything around him was unfamiliar, but, at least he saw no alligator tracks. Knowing that he’d been swept downstream, he proceeded to head in the opposite direction, knowing that, if he walked far enough, he would reach the place where he dove in. It took him some time to reach the spot, and when he did he was relieved to find that the alligator was no longer there. Since he was already very late, he decided he might as well find where the nest was hidden.
He simply had to follow the alligator tracks. 100 yards from the stream he found the nest- and 2 full grown alligators who were guarding it jealously. He inched closer to have a better look, totally engrossed in what he was seeing. He didn’t notice the rock that barred his way, and tripped over it, falling flat. Instantly the alligators were alerted, and swayed their heads back and forth, searching for the intruder. They spotted him just as he scrambled back into the tangled undergrowth, and both went after him with a low, guttural roar. They may have looked clumsy, but they ran at great speed, and would have overtaken Frank if he hadn’t fallen down a small hole. The two beasts thundered over him, and soon he could hear them no more. As soon as his heart stopped beating quite as fast, he started to look around his surroundings.
He was in a small hole, hardly tall enough for him to stand in, yet it didn’t quite feel like a hole- it was too dry and clean smelling. He barely had time to make these observations before he heard a scratching sound followed by a puff and a flash of light. Frank whirled around, and saw, facing him, a small furry creature.
“Who are you?” Frank asked.
“Who are you?” The creature said in answer, “and what are you trying to do, jumping into my house like that?”
“I didn’t mean to fall in”, Frank said. “I was being chased by alligators and fell in by accident. As far as who I am, I am Francois Arborio de Felinie, but around here I am known simply by the name Frank.”
“Hi!” The creature said. “My name is George. I’m a weasel. What are you?”
“I am a mouse”
“I didn’t know that mice live in these parts.”
“They don’t. I and 16 others of my kind were wrecked on your shores. We are staying at the home of the chipmunk brothers.”
“Oh yes. They’re good friends of mine. But they don’t live anywhere near here. How did you end up here? You’re over 3 miles from their house!
“I went out to do some scouting and information gathering.”
“Well, the information that I gather is that you’re lost- right?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“Well, I am just the weasel you need! I’ll get you back home in two shakes of a frog’s tail!”
It was nearly dark by the time Frank got home, and George told him to go in by himself.
“I need to be heading home, and if I stay it’ll be midnight before I can start back! Once Bubba starts talkin’, he keeps talkin’ for a long, long time!”
Thanking his newly acquired friend, Frank dragged his weary body the last few feet until home. He knocked once, and was about to knock again when the cabin door flew open.
“Hey fellers!” Lookee here!” Bubba was standing in the doorway, with his pudgy face all wrinkled int a smile.
“Looks as if Mr. Mouse has finally got himself back! Yee haw! Ain’t I glad tuh see yuh! Com in Mr.! Tell us all ‘bout the ‘dventures ya’ve been uh havin’ while we’ve been uh waitin’ here! Get yourself some stew! Pull up a chair. Get warm! How’ve yuh been managin’ without us?”
Frank was bewildered by this barrage of questions, and just stared blankly. Bubba realized Frank was a bit flustered, so he said, “Wall, I guess all them thar questions can wait. You’ll be able to answer ‘em better with a full belly!”
Frank gratefully sat down to eat the steaming bowl of stew Chubba offered him, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t eaten all day. At first he shovelled food into his mouth at an astonishing speed, but gradually sleep proved more powerful than hunger, and the spoon dropped from his paw, clattering to the floor.
“Wall”, Bubba said to himself. “I guess all them questions will ‘ave tuh wait till tomorrer. This feller needs his rest.”
Heedless of the mud that was covering Frank, Bubba lifted the sleeping mouse from his chair, carrying him past the other mice, who looked as curious as Bubba felt, and into the small alcove where Frank’s bed was. Bubba lowered him down onto it, and as he walked out, he turned back, looking at the small, mud covered mouse. Thars somethin’ special ‘bout that mouse, Bubba thought. Wonder what it is? He walked out, pondering that question.

Frank woke up to the smells of breakfast. They wafted through the house, creating an aroma that roused all the mice and caused them to unconsciously lick their lips. “Stuffs ready!” Chubba soon said, and all the mice piled out of their beds to get a share of the feast, which was fried pigeon eggs, broiled minnows, acorn coffee, (which none of the mice cared for, due to it’s bitter taste), and oatmeal cakes, slathered with liberal quantities of raspberry jam. The mice ate with gusto, making up for the meals they had missed and then some, and after they had eaten as much as they could possibly hold, they sat back and talked over the last few day’s events.
Bubba told them that they’d landed in the middle of a large bayou in Florida.
“We’ve got a good life”, he said. “We trade with our cousins up north for acorns, an there’s so much food around that really the only work involved in gettin’ it is uh reachin’ up and pullin’ it down. Life’d be just ‘bout perfect if ‘tweren’t for all of them thar gators that live all ‘round. The big un’s ain’t bad, but the little un’s that chase us all over tarnation just for fun! But it ain’t fun, ‘cause if they’d catch us, it’d be all over!”
Bubba slid a stubby finger across his throat to emphasize his point.
“Is there not something that you can do to stop them?” Frank asked inquisitively.
“Wall, if we was to somehow git rid of them gator babies and gator nests, their Pa and Ma might decide that the middle of our land ain’t necessarily the best place to raise their young un’s, and they might just move somer’s else, some more invitin’ place- see?”

“True”, Frank said, “But there must be some way that we can rid you of these villains!”
“That’s awful sweet of ya’ll”, Bubba said. “But gettin gators ain’t necessarily all game and fun- it’s dang’rous work, and I wouldn’t want any of ya’ll to git busted up just ‘cuz of some little trouble of ours”.
“But, my good chipmunk”, Frank said. “Now that you have rescued us we are indebted to you- your problem is ours. If we must risk ourselves, so be it. We will, right mice?”
His question was answered by a chorus of cheers and exclamations of assent, so Bubba said, “Wall, I guess that’s that. We better start planning the least hare-brained way to go about what we’re gonna do!”
The sun went higher in the sky, and then lower, yet no one seemed to take any notice whatsoever. Everything- lunch, dinner, snacks, bed- were completely forgotten as the 20 creatures sat and plotted. They talked of only one thing- peace to the creatures of the bayou- and they all knew that the only way that peace could be achieved was by the absence of the alligators!

Here is chapter two of my story:

If you haven’t figured out by now, I looooooooooove to write! I’ve written two stories so far, each of them about 25 notebook pages long, and I am working on transcribing them so you can enjoy there literary genius. (?)

Here is the first chapter of one of them, titled Francois the Mouse: