He paused, the tip of his long narrow nose aiming up at the billowy puffs in the sky, inhaling the damp night air. Scurry…scuttle. He moved quickly, just few steps beyond the thicket of bushes. Looking behind him he could see the trail of pebbles and dirt interrupted only by the shallow impressions of his feet. Crunch! His head spun around again. ‘Must get moving’ he thought as his muscular short legs made rapid locomotive motions towards the yellow door on the wood porch.
Several heads taller than him were the green blades, reaching like hands thrusting themselves towards the sun. Drops of dew the size of a fist glistened on the leaves and grass all around Jessup. The dawn had just broken and the first rays of sunshine were stingily reaching its subjects’, the night with its cold holding out for a reprieve from this dance with daybreak. Trees that one could stand in front of and not see around or on either side surrounded this place. Only the rustling breeze and his footfalls made any sounds in this cavernous region. The sun, beginning its venture to the middle of the broad blue expanse, was just a speck bubbling on the horizon.
“Hello?” he called out, his voice dying within a few feet of where he stood. Jessup stood as motionless as a statue waiting for a response. “Is anyone there?”
“Ah-hem, yeeessss?” The reply reverberated through the hall like a deep bass drum.
Jessup hesitantly moved his right foot forward, paused, then cautiously drew the right leg even with the other. “Where are you?” he asked of the voice.
“I? I am here”, came the reply, the sound becoming louder as the voice drew nearer.
“Where is here?” Jessup squeaked, his vocal cords becoming tauter.
“My home. Where are you?” asked the voice that came from behind the counter.
“I…I’m not sure. I’m looking for someone, a friend”, Jessup explained to the voice, his voice sounding clearer.
Jessup was relieved to be back in the thickly green coppice. His heart was pounding like the hooves of horses pounding through the desert. His whole body trembled, shaking with fear, remembering the furious pace the footfalls had advanced as they raced to the door. He had made it, to the big yellow wood door with its giant brass handle, ajar just wide enough for him to slip through but small enough to keep the pursuing at bay. By the time the “hunter” had reached the entryway, Jessup had slipped safely below the porch and was making his way to the opposite side of the house. He would find a place he could sleep for the night, a nook warm and sheltered from the elements and stalkers. He would sleep and start his search anew when he awoke.
‘There….there it was again, that sound. Must I arouse?’ Chester heard the soft scraping on the shiny spotted linoleum that covered the kitchen floor. He heard the squeaky voice of the intruder and had answered calmly. ‘He’s small, I can tell. I must see him first…’ he thought as he crouched lower to the ground. He peered around the large meat container until he could see him, standing there, his eyes wide open, mouth agape slightly, waiting…waiting for the response. Chester had answered, all the while his muscles recoiling…ready to pounce, capture his prey, slaughter his catch. He stilled his breath, pausing just a second longer, then released himself, flying through the air like a great whale breaching the surface of the ocean. There had been a shrill scream, scrambling of limbs, pots and pans crashing to the ground, cotton linen thrown into the air and the slamming of bodies against walls. The intruder had escaped out the back. Chester sat there, his white chest heaving up and down, grey and brown fur falling lightly onto the floor. He crouched down, narrowing his eyes and looked at the door. His tail flicked madly. He licked it.
Jessup was all of six inches long, including his leathery brown tail. His belly was the color of creamed coffee and the rest of him a chocolate brown, with pink ears, a well whiskered nose, and bright red eyes. A house mouse, yes, that’s exactly what he thought of himself, except he was now house-less. He would go and find his friend Sam, and he would have a home again. Ah, the feel of soft sheets of tissue, the warmth a fireplaced house, the smell of freshly baked bread. Jessup couldn’t wait. He would leave in the morning and search out his longtime friend Sam. Sam, from the fields in back of the farm he had grown up in. Sam, his best friend.
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