Over the Darkened Landscape - By Derryl Murphy Page 0,49
polite one, ain’t he?”
“That he is,” agreed the frog. “It’s nice to come back to a polite kid, Michael.” He stood on his hind legs and peered into Michael’s face. “But ain’t you a little bit old to be needing us?”
Michael blinked his eyes. “Needing you? What do you mean?”
James Jackrabbit tut-tutted. “Culpepper, he may be a little older than our last friend, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t need help.”
“Help?” Michael was beginning to feel stupid, but before he could ask more, the door swung open and in lumbered a bear on its hind legs with a crow on its shoulder. The bear was a smallish grizzly—although it still had to duck its head and turn sideways to come through the door—and wore checkered knee-length shorts, and while the crow wore no clothes, it chewed on an unlit cigar. Randall Grizzly and Cameron Crow, joining James Jackrabbit and Culpepper Frog in Michael’s bedroom.
“There ain’t nobody else in the house,” said the bear, his deep voice a rumble that penetrated right to Michael’s heart. “Kid’s all alone.”
“Where’s your folks, kid?” asked the crow; he had a New York accent and while he talked held his cigar between two wing feathers that he worked like fingers.
The frog reached over and grabbed a picture of Michael and his mother from his bookshelf and waved it at the others. “There’s no father in this photograph, fellas,” he said.
Michael finally managed to find his voice. “My dad’s gone. We don’t hear from him too much. Mom’s at work tonight, doing overtime.” He looked to James Jackrabbit. “Listen. Can I get up and get myself a drink?”
“Absolutely, kid,” answered the rabbit, hopping down to the floor.
Michael got up and pulled his housecoat over his pyjamas, shuffled out to the kitchen and got a tall glass of water, added a couple of ice cubes that he chipped out of the frost-ridden freezer compartment, then went into the living room and sat down on the couch, letting the kitchen light spill in rather than reach overhead to turn on the lamp. All four animals sat on the floor in a semicircle in front of him. He took a long drink, gasped when he was done, and sat there looking at them, turning the glass in his fingers and rubbing at the condensation forming on the bottom.
“I can see that you’ve decided we’re real,” said James Jackrabbit.
Michael nodded.
“It must be pretty scary having the lot of us just pop up the way we did.”
“I would say . . .” Michael’s mouth was suddenly too parched to talk, so he took another drink. “I would say that it wouldn’t matter just how you popped up. I’d still be freaked out.”
All of them chuckled at this. Then James hopped up onto the couch and sat beside him. “And yet we’re here.” He was smiling.
Michael smiled back, nodded. “Yes. Yes, you are.”
James clapped a paw on his shoulder. “So in that case, let’s settle down and figure out why you called us here.”
Michael took another swallow of water. “But I didn’t call you here. You just showed up.”
“Kid, we’ve been flat and dry for a long time now, and the only way for us to come back out is to be called.”
“But I didn’t call you. I picked up some used copies of the books about you guys and read a couple before I went to sleep, is all. Just wanted to remember what it was like.”
Culpepper hopped up and sat on the other side. “What what was like, kid?”
Michael hung his head, feeling a little embarrassed. “Um . . . being younger, when I didn’t have any worries.”
“Ah.” All of the animals nodded.
“Are you saying you just got these books today?” asked Cameron Crow.
Michael nodded. “At a rummage sale.”
James sat up straighter. “Randall, go get the books from his room.”
The bear ran and fetched the books, dropped them in a stack on the couch beside James. “Which one did you read last?” he asked.
Michael pointed to Tales of the Green Green Woods. James slowly picked up the book, held it up to his face, nose quivering as he closed his eyes. “Oh my,” he finally said, voice soft and sad.
“What?” asked Culpepper. “You know I can’t smell anything. Was he rolling the book in carrots or something?”
James shook his head and held out the book for Randall to smell. From the bear came a growl that made the hairs on Michael’s neck stand on end.