The morning following Peter’s departure
Ronald spent much of the previous night toiling amidst a tempest of tears, sweat, and survivor’s guilt. The few moments he was able to steal precious sleep were replete with nightmares. Screams. Cries. Peter’s fragile frame vanishing through walls of foam and mist.
Just beyond his reach.
“My son, my son…I was so close...” The grieving father’s paws covered his face as he sobbed. It didn’t help that he was confined to this bed while his family looked for Ben. Marcus called him earlier that morning about what Rodney told him about Peter and Ben. Not only was his heart pulverized, he was indolent and useless in his family’s search efforts.
Slim, diagonal rows of sunlight cast themselves across Ronald’s bed as he struggled to pray. His paws were clasped before his face, but cords of anguish choked out his supplications. The only things the squirrel exuded were hiccups and tears. The image of his son being devoured and crushed by the river’s torrential force cycled through his mind like a cruel merry-go-round. His soul was lost in finding that wellspring of hope he desperately thirsted for.
The blue curtain surrounding his bed slid open. Ronald heard the rustling fabric but paid it no heed. He wasn’t going to stifle his heartbreak and pretend to be put-together just because someone was here.
“Ronald…” Marsha, the nurse who tended to him last night, somberly intoned. Ronald kept his face buried in the pillow.
“I w-wanted to save my son...I-I was so close…h-his foot was r-right there…”
Marsha performed her routine check of his vitals and inquired if he was in any physical pain. She then examined the skin above his cast to make sure the cast wasn’t too tight, then the cast itself to make sure he wasn’t bleeding through. She followed this by checking the results of his basic metabolic panel performed the previous night. Everything appeared stable. Her methodical poise and calm helped ease the squirrel’s emotions for now. She saw he was in distress, but didn’t feed into it.
“I’m...deeply sorry.” The nurse put a consoling hand on his shoulder. “...about Peter.”
Ronald glanced at her through his periphery, half of his face in the pillow. “Thank you..."
Marsha exhaled as if to say something more, but hesitated.
"Yeah?" Ronald pressed out of curiosity.
The nurse groaned slightly, regretting even making the sound. “It...it was on NBS this morning.” She replied with a shudder.
"It, wait...huh?"
"The news," she sighed in disbelief and subtle revulsion, "they said what, well, happened to Peter. Though, I should say 'supposedly.' They brought up his name, surname, place of residence-"
Ronald faced her, bewilderment and anger scribbled into his expression. “No one even talked to me about this!”
“I figured as much.” Marsha shook her head while writing something on her clipboard. “There’s no way they could’ve gotten a hold of you and the others so quickly. Someone leaked them information and they ran an undoubtedly spurious story.”
“What’d they say?”
Marsha bit her lower lip in regret. “I...shouldn’t have said anything. They, well...strongly implied that Ben was likely his killer. I didn’t believe that for a second, though it’s little consolation.”
“H-How could they?!” The squirrel’s heartrate spiked in unfettered lividity. “That’s a LIE! Peter drowned and Ben tried to save him! Those CREEPS!” He strangled a clump of bed sheet in his hand. “It’s bad enough I lost one of my sons; now I have to hear the other slandered?!”
Marsha said nothing, but sat and let her patient unleash his anger and frustration into the air. Passersby gazed from the hallway but he couldn’t have cared less. It wasn’t until he realized his ascending heart rate that he forced himself to stop his justified histrionics. He peered at the black rat with a blushed face.
“...Sorry…”
“You’re fine.” She gave him a disarming smile. “You’re allowed to be angry.”
“I hate making a scene though; I’m glad Evelyn or the kids didn’t see that.”
“She would’ve understood. I’m...assuming the rest of the family knows too.”
Ronald nodded. “They got here after you left last night. My dad broke the news to me...saying it was the worst night of my life would’ve been an understatement. Y-you never think…” He wiped a tear. “You never think you’re gonna outlive your kid, you know? You have a little boy and plan to raise him...you teach him and show him how to live life. You work so he can have a successful life...friends, family, education, faith in God...and then...it just..gets taken away from you. You feel lost...you feel confused that God would bless you with a child...a child you love to death...a child you’d give your life to protect...only to let him plunge into a river and drown before his seventh birthday. It hurts, Marsha...it hurts so much.”
The other rodent brushed a couple tears away but maintained her composure. She gripped his hand firmly. “You’re a strong man, Ronald. Though you feel weak and your world’s been destroyed, you know deep down God is strong and raises the dead. You know deep down that your son’s more alive than ever.” She let out a brief sigh but didn’t let go of his hand. “Oh...it’ll always hurt and you’ll have those nightmares, but...you can rejoice that Peter was victorious, and you WILL see him again. He won that victory in Christ...no amount of hurt can ever take that away.”
As much as she wanted to keep Ronald company, she did have other patients that needed her attention. He thanked her for talking to him before she left. Everything she said he already knew, but it was a greater comfort drinking in those words when poured out by another soul. The light Marsha shared sparked the memory of another verse in the father’s heart.
“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment...worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory…” The words flowed through his beleaguered spirit as a cool spring through a parched wasteland.
“God...help those words to be real in my life and...my family’s life right now, and...I just ask that Ben is safe, and that...we can have him back in our arms safe and sound…”
Ronald’s prayer trailed on in a series of disorganized thoughts, but it was better than not praying at all. He didn’t want to stop talking, beseeching, and finding things to thank his Creator for. He only had to stop when the sleep that escaped him last night returned unannounced and mercifully lulled him into a dreamless nap.
Ronald’s phone chimed later that morning. Bach’s music roused him from the sleep he was robbed of the previous night.
“Ugh…” The squirrel groaned and rolled onto his side to access his phone. His blurry eyes made it difficult to read the name on the screen at first. “Wi-Will-” He swiped some of the gound from his eyes and tried again. “William Rakowsky Jr.”
The pastor.
Ronald completely forgot it was Sunday...or that days still existed at all.
He swiped the icon across screen to answer, poised to explain everything. “Hi, Will, uh..sorry-” He stammered but the bear was quick to speak. His voice was personal yet serious, like a man concerned for his ailing friend.
“Ronald...I heard what happened to all of you yesterday. Harriet caught it on the news this morning and brought it to my attention before service. I am deeply, deeply sorry...How are you, Evelyn, and the others holding up?”
Ronald sighed deeply. “Well, uh, I’m in the hospital right now because I needed surgery on my foot and now I’m recovering. Evelyn, my parents, and my siblings are looking for Ben. We’re...hurting right now.” He sighed again. “The news report didn’t help either; they lied about what happened...Rodney, the coroner who looked into my son’s...” He gulped. “...passing, proved that he drowned and that Ben is innocent. I-I tried to help him down from the tree, b-but...these explosions shook everything and made us fall into the river…” Ronald sniffled and wiped his eyes. William Jr. didn’t interrupt or try to rush him along. “I lived...but h-he...didn’t. I failed...If I was just a little faster...my s-son would still be here...”
The pastor said nothing for a few seconds before answering. “Ronald...I know it’s natural to blame yourself when these things happen. You have survivor’s guilt and kick yourself over what you could’ve done differently. I heard those blasts too; no one knew they were coming. They took all of us by surprise. You’re a good, responsible dad. You did everything you could.”
“If I’d turned around sooner, I’d have stopped him from climbing that tree…”
“Don’t do that,” William Jr. calmly urged, “you’re not psychic; you can’t possibly know what anyone’s gonna do on a whim. Cutting yourself’s not going to give you or your family comfort and it steals the joy and peace your Saviour freely gave you.” He paused briefly. “Listen, would you be okay with me visiting this afternoon? I always prefer talking face-to-face; it’s easier to help people that way.”
Ronald’s demeanor brightened a little; the corners of his mouth lifting subtly. “I would. I really appreciate the thought.”
“Wonderful. Where are you, exactly?”
“Evergreen Community, room 311. If both curtains are shut, I’m behind the left one.”
“Okay. Is 2 good?”
“Anytime’s good; safe to say my schedule’s free all day.” He added humorously, just for a smidge of needed levity.
It was around 11:30 by the time the two said goodbye. Ronald flicked his phone’s setting to ‘Do Not Disturb’ and set it down with a yawn. He resumed his previous position and promptly dozed off. Knowing that there were people in his life who loved the Lord and cared about him and his family helped ease him into a nicer slumber.
“Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart: so doth the sweetness of a man's friend by hearty counsel.” - Proverbs 27:9
-
Ben promptly leapt into the box and gnawed the cords off the other squirrel’s muzzle and limbs. As soon as her arms and legs were free, she jumped and grappled him in a tearful hug, like a prisoner clinging to her family after years of unjust confinement. He yelped in surprise but didn’t pull away.
“Ben, I...I...can’t believe it, of all people...th-thank you…I’m finally free…”
“Y-you’re, uh...what? H-how…” Ben cocked his head in earnest discombobulation. How did she know who he was? She let go and wiped her eyes. “Wh-who are you? H-how do you know me?”
“I’m Melody. I...I have so much to say, but...let’s get out of here first.” Her ears were perked and alert for Bill’s footsteps. There was nothing. Not a sound. “...before that creep finds us.”
She pulled herself onto the ledge and reached down to help her rescuer up. As soon as Ben was on the ledge, Melody hopped onto the cold cement floor. He silently followed suit. The advantage of their puny frames allowed for discreet feet. Tangled coils of revulsion assailed the child’s mind. He wanted to be wrong about Bill. He wasn’t a kidnapper! He wasn’t a liar! He was a warm, kindly bear who just wanted to help! Those muffled voices? Just tortured manifestations of Ben’s wounded psyche!
Yet the itch in the back of his mind knew it was all a sham. Bill was a monster and the squirrels needed to escape his house of death.
Before it could claim their lives.
The captive squirrels wordlessly maneuvered their way across the basement floor; their ears attentive for the slightest rustling of the bear’s presence. The open door came into Melody’s view and she instinctively hastened her pace.
“Wait!” Ben whisper-shouted as he scampered after her.
Melody slipped through the crack of the door and hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. The first floor was there...another step closer to freedom.
But Bill could be up there.
The younger squirrel slipped through the door and stood beside Melody. “What now?”
She raised a quieting finger as her hair bristled. The only sound either could hear was their own heartbeats and the hum of the ventilation duct over them. No immediate sign of Bill.
She gave a quick 'let’s go' gesture with her paw before scurrying up the stairs to the standing plants. The child struggled to keep up, stumbling over himself and sliding into the steps three different times in his attempt at alacrity. He was dizzy by the time he reached her. He leaned against the bird of paradise pot to catch his breath.
“S-sorry I’m loud and dumb.” He hung his head but Melody signaled him to shush.
“Stay here...Need to find a way out. If you hear Bill, go back and hide. Got it?”
He nodded, wiping a droplet of blood that oozed from his nose. “Oww…” He tilted his head back and pinched his nose.
“No no.” She quickly repositioned his head to tilt forward. “It’ll go down your throat if you do that. Keep pinching and breathe through your mouth.”
He nodded and did as she said. Meanwhile, the timbre of her voice continued to trigger flashbacks, but they were fuzzy and indiscernible. Perhaps Melody would help defog this time-shrouded tableau.
Once they were free.
Melody’s paws were inaudible against the cocobolo floor; it helped slightly that her gaunt frame made her light as a feather. The motion-sensor light illuminated the dining room and helped the gray squirrel survey possible options. Sadly, all the windows were closed. Sure, she and Ben could try cranking one open, but would they be strong enough? She clambered onto a window sill via a nearby chair, raised the lock, and put her paws to the crank.
SQUEEE-EEEEAAAAK!
She gasped and promptly removed her hands from the rusty lever as though it was coated with poison. She froze as a statue, terrified Bill heard the cacophony and would race down to investigate. Seconds passed. No bear, though a subtle chill brushed Melody’s fur as the breeze coursed through the half-inch opening.
“Crap crap crap, what do I do…”
Creating clamor would only be worth it if it meant ensuring a clean escape, but this window would not allow that. Even if she managed to swing the tall glass pane open enough, the mesh was another barrier that would take time to deal with. Either chewing through it or trying to unlatch it would consume valuable seconds.
She scanned for further options.
The rodent pitter-pattered to the TV room. The scent of pretzels, homemade pizza rolls, and salmon hung in the air. The lights revealed a little bit more of the picture; two wine glasses, one containing dregs of Merlot, a discarded, aluminum wrapper of FreshMint stick gum by the remote, and a cell phone plugged into the wall. To Melody’s chagrin, no windows were open in here either.
“Couple of pigs…” She shook her head, though the lingering odors made her mind turn to food. A single pretzel stick laid discarded by the sofa. It wasn’t much, but was probably edible. She forwent all sense of dignity and hygiene and pounced on the tempting food fragment. A tiny mess of crumbs resulted as she consumed the morsel. She moaned as she finished the pretzel, realizing what she did.
“That bastard...reduced me to this…”
Out of the corner of her eye, Melody noticed the screen of the cell phone light up. It didn’t make a sound, but its white glow illuminated a small portion of wall it was positioned against. It remained for a few seconds before going dark again.
“Must belong to Bill’s date, whatever her name is. She sure loves leaving her crap everywh-”
She froze mid-thought, realizing what this meant. A cell phone in plain view. It wasn’t hers, but if it was like any old cell phone, it had functions she could perform without needing the owner’s passcode.
Like calling the police.
She practically teleported to the phone and smashed the home button in with both paws. As it was sized ergonomically for Chantal, the small squirrel needed to apply strength to activate the electronic behemoth.
The screen blared up again, blasting Melody’s eyes with sun-like resplendence. She groaned and squinted as her vision was assailed, though her concerns were mostly affixed to either bear finding her. The overbearing radiance from the phone would make her easy to find.
“She’s messy and blind. Great catch, Bill.”
After her eyes acclimated to the light, she was able to make out the text message planted in the middle of display. She didn’t care about its content, as it was more a litmus test for her restored sight.
She saw “EMERGENCY” in the bottom-right corner of the screen and her paw raced to mash it. As she did, she noticed a thin but rather prominent scratch zigzagging across the screen’s width. It didn’t hinder the device’s functionality, but did trigger a devastating memory in Melody’s mind.
“Do you THINK I wanted my phone like this?!” She screamed at five-year old Ben, shoving her phone a mere inch from his shame-filled face. “You know how much this damn phone cost me?”
She remembered snarling and screaming at the crying child with bitter, scorching invective. Spittle sprayed his face as her tongue sliced him into a guilt-laden slab of remorse. Hot anger. Cruel, unjustified resentment. Words and accusations that killed.
Melody wiped fresh moisture from her eyes as she waited for the operator to pick up. “Ben...I hope I didn’t break you...I should be glad you don’t remember me…”
The operator answered calmly and articulately. The voice was that of a male and a smaller animal; perhaps a ferret. “Hello, please state your emergency.”
“We’re kidnapped and can’t escape. If I break any of the windows, h-he’ll hear me. W-we need help.”
“Do you know where you are? An address? Location?” The dispatcher kept a level tone. “Any landmarks?”
“We’re at 389 West Donovan Street. Uh...we’re n-not in immediate danger, but...h-he could wake up anytime…We’re squirrels and he’s a bear...H-his name is Bill Rakowsky; he’s the one trapping us.”
“Okay. Stay calm and hide in the safest place you can until law enforcement arrives. How many of you are there and what are your names?”
“Two; Melody Santana and Benjamin Avery.” She answered, never letting herself forget Ben’s last name.
The ferret silently flicked his head toward the wall on his left. There was a sizable cork board that displayed a photographic menagerie of missing persons the Evergreen Police Department were looking for. Names and laconic descriptions ran in tandem with their corresponding images. His eyes fell immediately upon the only squirrels among the mosaic of the missing.
That was them!
His heart raced, especially over Melody. She was reported missing by her mother two weeks ago. He remembered her hysterical, desperate pleas when she called. Despite her daughter’s checkered life over the past two years, she loved her and wanted her safe in her arms again. “Sending enforcements right now. If possible, stay on the line.”
“I’ll...try, thank you.”
She peered over at Ben. He was as still as a log. His nostril was no longer leaking blood, but he kept his place as Melody instructed. Their eyes met for a few seconds, locked in inquisitive, taciturn gazes. He wanted to ask how she knew him, but she wanted to know how he ended up in the cul-de-sac of life that was Bill’s house.
His presence in this chamber of death was a red flag.
“Ben…” She tip-toed to him, question poised on the tip of her tongue.
“Yeah?”
“Uh…” The query was poised as a runner anticipating the imminent bang of the starter’s pistol, but Melody lowered the gun. “...I called the police and they’re gonna come help us. You should hide while I wait on the phone.”
“Sh-should I hide in the basement?”
“I think…” Melody paused to improvise a strategy. Should he return to his original spot to lower suspicion, or go to the basement, where it was a little darker and easier to hide? “You should-”
Voices from the second floor interrupted her. Their blood ran cold and Ben huddled beside Melody in tremulous trepidation.
“Shoot, left ma phone down there.” Chantal grumpily clamored. “It’s got that picture I wanted to show ya!”
Both squirrels frantically scrambled into the basement.
“I’ll get it, my hugglebunny.”
“Oh you!” There was the sound of giggling and a bed creaking as Bill stepped out of it. The squirrels slipped into a narrow crevasse in the backside of a dusty armoire positioned against a cement wall. The motion-light triggered by their movement made ensconcing themselves effectively much harder. They were diminutive enough to fit snugly in the gap and the rodents could only hope that’d be sufficient to keep them safe.
Ben started to cry as he heard Bill’s descending footsteps, but Melody hastily clasped her paw over his mouth. She felt his accelerated breathing and pulse against her hand.
“Shhh…” She faintly whispered into the whimpering child’s ear. “Calm…”
The two were nestled against what felt like old, Bill-sized woolen sweaters. It was pitch-black inside the armoire, but Ben detected a sleeve-opening of one of the sweaters. Melody released her grip so he could poke around with his snout. He immediately slipped through it and burrowed into the garment as deeply as he could, curling into a tight ball of frayed nerves. Melody felt the tiny lump of his form settle beside her. She felt around for his paw with her own and grabbed hold of it as well as she could through the thick fabric. He returned her grasp; his little fingers clasping hers. They were able to feel the other’s fur through minuscule slits.
“I won’t let him get you...I promise…”
Bill reached the dining room and paused when he noticed the motion-light already on.
“What…?” His brow furrowed. He noticed the light in the TV room was also on, but the TV was off.
“Ben, ya out here?” He sauntered through the dining room to the TV room, bypassing the basement stairs. The tiny brown squirrel shuddered as the grizzly uttered his name.
“Stop.” Melody breathed into his ear, though she was starting to sweat and tremble herself from anxiety. “Come on, get here already!” A bead of sweat dripped along the corner of her eye as she prayed to a God she desperately hoped was real. The doors to this ursine dwelling of despair would burst off their hinges any moment and Bill would be stopped.
Unless he destroyed the squirrels first.
“God...please…” A single tear rolled down her cheek as she thought about the freedom waiting for her beyond these premises. “I-I wanna live…”
Bill stepped into the TV room and scanned the area for the small rodent. “Alright buddy, fun’s over. I need ya to-” He stopped suddenly as he realized something was off. “What’s this…” He took a few more steps. “Ben...ya been playin’ on this phone?”
Melody gasped in petrified horror. Unspeakable dread strangled her with ghastly tentacles.
“No no no no no no no….!” Her free hand was cupped over her mouth and her heart fluttered.
Bill stooped to pick up Chantal’s phone and promptly noticed it was in the middle of a call. His eyes drifted to the top of the screen in bewilderment.
9-1-1.
Call started three minutes ago.
Bill mashed the red hang-up button with a forceful paw and chucked the phone into the ground. “BEN! Ya fuckin’ asshole!”
Ben whimpered and frantically tried to burrow deeper into the clothes. Melody hurriedly grabbed at him, but he slipped out of her grasp.
“Ben, NO!”
Ben thrashed and tunneled his way deeper through the formless garments, ravenously scratching and tearing through various articles to slip away.
Bill continued his curse-laden paroxysm as his footsteps stampeded through the house. He threw the guestroom door open with such rage that the brass doorknob penetrated the wall. He threw open the closet door and spitefully smashed the little tigers Ben made. He looked beneath the bed and upended the toy chest to dump everything out should Ben be in there.
He wasn’t.
“Bill!” Chantal urgently raced to the guestroom. “What’s-”
“Where’s that damn squirrel?!” He roared. “I swear I’m gonna smash his skull in!”
Chantal was numb for words. “Wha-what are you-”
“Ya have to help me.” He grabbed her arm in exasperated desperation. She gasped but couldn’t pull away, being weaker than him. “If the police come, just play dumb and let ‘em in if they ask. Ben’ll be nowhere to be found and they're mistaken all along, got it? Uh...the neighbor kid's just prankin' us!”
Her eyes widened. “Wh-what’s going on? Who’s Ben? Police?”
“I’ll ‘splain later, damn it! Just wait for 'em and tell ‘em what I told ya. There’s no Ben or squirrel or anythin’ here. Never was. Now go!”
Not waiting for a reply, he hastily shoved her to the side and resumed his psychotic hunt. Kitchen? No. Bathroom? No. One of the hall cabinets? No sign. The grizzly caught sight of his street outside the window in his periphery. No police.
He knew it wasn't even certain the police would get here at all. Ben couldn't have related the address; the bear made sure he couldn't have seen it on his way in. Law enforcement could use a GPS locator to track Chantal's phone, but with it now obliterated, there went that lead.
Bill liked his odds...but had a feeling he should act quickly just to be safe. He wanted to deck Chantal for leaving her phone in the open, but that could wait.
“Come out!” He threw open the doors of the china hutch, snapping one of the hinges off in the process.
Then he saw the basement door.
Slightly ajar.
A malicious, toothy sneer formed on his wrinkled muzzle before bounding downstairs.
Ben burrowed his way through so many clothes he wound up peering through another nook. He reached his paw down and touched cold cement.
The floor under the armoire.
Dead end.
Bill flung the basement door open. It slammed the wall so hard it paralyzed Ben to his core.
“Don’t know how the hell you got in here-” He slammed the door shut to prevent escape but then paused. “Wait...”
He raced to the discarded toy chest he sealed Melody within, knocking over items and shelves. Glass shattering. Knick-knacks, curios, and other forgotten objects clattering to the floor in a violent heap. He laid his eyes on the chest. All the books were swept off of it.
“You….” Bill’s teeth clenched into a deathly snarl. “...You...ungrateful bitch…”
He flicked open the chest...No Melody.
He bellowed as he kicked the chest with gut-wrenching fury. It smashed into a rack of shelves, cleaving the box in two and sending the shelves and their contents crashing to the ground. Glass, ceramic, and porcelain shattered everywhere; fragments diffusing all across the floor in a shower of jagged confetti.
“SHOW YOURSELVES!” He roared, turning over and checking behind every object in his vicinity. A brief gap in the clatter revealed a noise that made his ears tingle.
Ben crying.
It came from the lower part of the armoire.
The old grizzly licked his lips and bared his claws as he stalked towards the squirrels’ hiding place. The malevolent sneer returned and a bit of drool oozed from his glistening, bared fangs. He stooped to the armoire’s lowest drawer and gripped its dusty handle in blood-soaked avarice.
“You’re DEAD, Ben!”
-
It was one in the morning on Tuesday. The Averys and the Missing Persons unit of the Evergreen police department spent nearly all of the past sixty hours searching far and wide for Ben. Sunday and Monday were a bust, but Evelyn couldn’t give up. She wouldn’t give up. The weary, sleep-deprived mother took the little sleep she could afford at the police station. She would attempt to steal a few precious hours of rest each day of following her wolf family and their acute sense of smell.
With a weakened and famished spirit, Evelyn curled up in a lobby chair. Another day without the son she didn’t even know was alive. Another night of sparse rest. Another crushing blow to her soul. She faced inward so no one would see her cry herself to sleep.
Diane, Xavier, and Janet turned in each night at Ronald and Evelyn’s house, whereas Marcus stuck by his daughter-in-law. He never wanted her to strive alone in her pain.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
The wolf gazed silently and mournfully upon the stricken squirrel. He’d observe her petite frame heave every few seconds and hear an occasional squeak or cough. He gave her a slight nudge against her back with his right paw and rested it there in a cup-like shape. There was nothing he could say, save for a soft, wistful whimper. She turned herself ever so slightly and grasped one of his digits with her hand.
“Marcus...thank you,” she coughed, “...for bein’ here.”
He nudged her again gently with his snout. “You’re my daughter...I won’t let you take this on alone…”
There was nobody else in the room save for the front-desk personnel. The forty-something wallaby watched their bond in wordless appreciation. She saw the two drag themselves into the lobby the past two nights, defeated and bashed from a day of failure. She knew about Ben and Peter from hearing other officers talking about the situation and it broke her heart to see the young mother experiencing this nightmare. She knew the squirrel wanted to hear the first inkling of news about her missing son. Any moment, the desk phone would ring and he would be declared ‘Found!’
“Can I get you any water or blankets or anything?” The marsupial asked; Evelyn looked cold and uncomfortable.
“I’m fine, thank you.” Marcus replied. “But maybe a blanket for her.”
The wallaby rose to fetch the mother a blanket, but couldn’t go one hop before the phone rang.
“Oh, one second.”
The wallaby promptly answered and listened. She typed rapidly along the computer’s keyboard. “Mhm...yes...oh, that was her?” The keys and plastic mouse continued their clicks. “...Him too?!” She shot a sideways glance at the two. “Yes...Thanks, I’ll contact Herrera.”
She hung up and immediately dialed another number. “Herrera...we have a 10-20 on both Melody Santana and Benjamin Avery.”
Evelyn bolted upright and gripped the armrest with jittery paws. “WHAT?! I-is this real?! Please, God...” Her tail swished rapidly and eyes watered from anxious longing. Marcus was silent but wide-eyed and mouth agape.
“...389 Donovan Street...she claimed offender is a bear...William Rakowsky…” More typing. “Claims no immediate danger but fears he will hurt them…”
Within a minute the squirrel and wolf heard police sirens blaring. Their doppler wails and red-and-blue scintillating lights raced along the darkened street. Five cars whizzed by with the familiar ‘Evergreen PD’ logo and alternating black-and-white patterns.
And they were gone as quickly as they came.
Evelyn was a scrambled bundle of nerves, unable to think or know what to feel. Her son was alive and his location was known...it happened to be in a stranger’s house. A stranger vile enough to kidnap her child.
She just wanted this night to end; her son safe in her arms again.
-
Bill threw the drawer open, planning to yank Ben out and crush his little skull between his fingers. He’d find Melody after and do the same with her. He was aware the police may be on their way and that he should probably be on the lam, but knew he could make these rodents vanish without a trace (well, after hastily mopping up their blood). Their mangled corpses would be stuffed into a black contractor bag at the bottom of the trash barrel by the time police arrived. He’d be off the hook and return to enjoying his night with Chantal.
First step was to eliminate these unthankful squirrels.
As soon as the drawer opened, Ben leaped out and scampered away.
“Hey!” Bill swiped at his tail, but missed. He watched the tiny, brown ball of fur disappear amidst the clutter.
Melody frantically excavated through the dense, tangled mass of garments; ripping and gnawing through clothing in search of the opening. Ben wouldn't outlast the bear for long.
Bill charged headlong on his fours in voracious pursuit, knocking over more things and sending more objects crashing to the floor. Ben screamed as the bear’s jaws snapped at his elusive tail.
“NO! STOP!”
The grizzly saw the squirrel scramble onto a standing shelf, which he sent crashing down with the force of a battering ram. Everything toppled over in a deafening cacophony, but Ben managed to jump to the nearby wine rack and hide among the various bottles. As the long side of it ran beside the wall, tackling it would do no good.
But Bill wasn’t opposed to scaling it.
Ben felt the glasses rattle, almost losing his balance as Bill’s paw grasped one of the shelves. He peered over and saw the top of Bill’s head a couple feet below him. If the bear reached his arm up once more, he would catch Ben.
His giant paw extended upwards and slammed Ben’s shelf. The squirrel yelped and a few of the bottles toppled and clanged against each other. The low growls from deep within the bear's throat were primordial. The last sound cornered prey heard before powerful, ursine teeth sunk into it and disemboweled it.
The rodent, powered by his will to live, rolled one of the fallen bottles to the edge of the shelf and heaved it. An audible thud resulted as it collided with Bill’s head. Glass shattered and liquor diffused in all directions as the bottle smashed into the ground.
The bear snarled in pain, but didn't stop. His face reddened as his rage waxed hotter.
Ben didn’t stop either. He hurriedly tried rolling other heavy bottles and sending them down on Bill’s pate. However, the bear wasn’t one to fall for such an attack more than once. The moment he saw the bottle of ‘98 Chardonnay teeter on the ledge, he grabbed it and flung it aside. He quickly reached his paw into the shelf and snagged Ben by the tail as the squirrel tried to flee.
And yanked out the captured rodent.
"NO! NO!" Ben flailed as Bill stepped off the rack, prey helpless and about to perish. He dangled the squealing child upside-down and glared into his eyes. Teeth bared and glistening. Hot, acrid breath assailed Ben's face, the scent of taint and death. A murderous scowl spelled imminent demise.
“Ya ungrateful bastard!” He spat in his face. “Callin’ the cops on me?!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Shut up!” He wrapped two of his fingers around Ben’s neck just enough to discomfort him and make breathing more difficult. The exaggerated heaving of his chest proved it was working. “I wanted to help you! I brought ya into my house 'cause I was kind and compassionate! I wanted to help ya escape a life of pain! Instead you...ya turn around and paint me as a criminal!”
Bill’s fingers shifted so the entirety of the squirrel’s head was in his paw. The squirrel continued to cry and kick to no avail.
“So you know what? Since ya don't want my help…”
His sinister glare pierced Ben’s soul.
“...I'll destroy you instead.”
Bill ever so slightly pressed his two fingers against Ben's temples.
“NO! NO! STOP!” Ben screamed. He fought fiercely against the bear’s paws in frantic, but vain desperation. He grunted as he pushed, but it was like trying to stop a trash compactor.
As Bill beheld the squirrel’s terror-stricken visage and felt his tiny paws wrestle against his massive fingers, he suddenly hesitated. An image flashed through his mind of the moment he pulled the child out from that mouse burrow. The same fear. Trepidation. Horror that portrayed a boy who wanted to live.
He remembered wanting to help him, not pulverize his skull. He’d never done that to anyone...A brief glimpse of sadness arrested the bear as he loosened his fingers a little. He really did want to help Ben from the start...
Then again...no one ever called the police on him either. The subversive little prick didn't just deserve death, he deserved incalculable pain.
Indignation clouded his mind and his fingers pressed closer once more. Ben’s whimpering intensified and came out as intermittent squeaks, but Bill didn't care. He emitted a stone-cold growl, a proclamation of Ben's death sentence.
“No...you’re done.”
A piercing shriek rattled the room and Ben tumbled to the floor.
-
Two weeks ago
Melody stared at the pill the bear placed in her paw. Bill claimed this tiny capsule was the greatest and only real antidote to her problems. He stood a few feet from the cloud-like bed she sat on, beholding her with eager expectation.
“Just take this pill...and I’ll be free…forever.”
The gray squirrel slowly brought the pill towards her mouth. As the seconds ticked, memories of the last three years overwhelmed her.
“Screamed at an innocent child…Blamed him for breaking my phone...Fired...Berated and cursed out my classmates...Attacked the professor...Expulsion...Jail…
...I can’t fix any of this...there’s no forgiveness, is there?”
Bill tapped his foot and sighed. “So...what’cha waitin’ for?”
The pill was a centimeter from her face. The ceiling light gleamed off the tiny pink sphere. It was smooth, looked inviting...it beckoned its contents be released into her system. All it was needed was a mere drop of digestive acid and it would work its wonders.
“Ever since Ronald let me go...my life’s gone to crap...and...it’s all been my fault…” A tear rolled down her cheek. “My stupid, STUPID anger...I’ve no one to blame but myself…”
She placed the tiny ball on her tongue and closed her mouth.
“There ya go…” Bill nodded and smiled. “Now swallow...peace is a moment away.”
She rolled the pill to the back of her throat, ready to send it down.
But something made her freeze.
A scene from her six months in jail unfolded in her mind like a chapter in a book she didn’t care about until now.
“Melody,” Will Rakowsky Jr. sat beside her in the detention center’s cafeteria. She barely looked at him during their conversation, but he didn’t give up. At least she didn’t mind him sitting beside her and showing her scripture, even if he had no idea it was getting through. “I know your heart’s heavy with guilt, but God provided the solution for it. He sent the Lord Jesus Christ to pay for all your sins. Yes, all of ‘em.”
Melody remained reticent, turning her lowered head slightly in his direction. Her eyeballs glanced to the open Bible lying before him. Markings, highlights, and annotations filled the pages in a complex array of scribbles and phrases. She turned her head a little more and saw that this pastor wasn’t looking at it as he spoke to her. He was looking at her.
Talking from the heart.
“Only Christ can give you perfect, complete forgiveness of all your sins...and He offers it freely. You’re not beyond his saving grace.”
His eyes met hers with a knowing warmth and confidence. There was no judgment or accusation aimed at her. No mention of her gaudy orange garb. No mention of her scuffed, scraggly appearance. No bragging about how holy he was. Every word from the grizzly’s mouth was about how holy the Saviour was...and the hope, mercy, and everlasting life He extended graciously and abundantly to the lowest of sinners.
Like her.
Melody wasn’t sure she believed it...but as the pill teetered on the back of her tongue...thoughts of that day rushed forward as a vanguard leading the opposition to Bill’s solution. His pill would end her pain and absolve her of confronting it.
But herein was the horrifying part:
Melody wasn’t sure of anything except that the moment she sent the pill down...it would be too late to turn back. The very idea thrust an inexplicable black terror into her heart. Was it a fear of dropping into hell the moment she left this world? She didn’t know, but It made her realize that perhaps...life shouldn’t be tossed aside so frivolously. Maybe it should be valued and filled with purpose.
No matter how much it hurt.
With adrenaline and fear coursing through her veins, Melody spat out the pill and backed away from it. “I-I don’t want it!” Her hairs bristled and tail flared upward as she took a defensive stance. “I-I wanna live! Let me out of here!”
Bill frowned and crossed his arms. “You-”
“No!” Melody barked. “I-I don’t want to hear your reasons anymore! I...I THINK there’s forgiveness out there...I know...I know my life means something!”
Bill chuckled derisively and shook his head. “So...ya learned nothing. Ya really don’t want what I generously gave that poor kangaroo. She knew her life meant nothing. Her husband knew it. Friends knew it-”
“No. I’m not saying it again! Let. Me. Leave. NOW.”
“Oh, you...stupid, stupid squirrel.” Bill stepped towards her, eclipsing some of the light and making her take a step back. “Ya really think I’m gonna let ya do that? You’ll call the cops.” His eyes narrowed into hers, wrinkling his already-scowling demeanor.
“I…” She took another step back. It was now that she realized the only exit from this room was locked.
“So here’s the deal, I’ll let ya live all ya want; enjoy all the pain and sufferin’ ya want...but on MY terms.”
Melody backed up a little more, eyes replete with disbelief. “Y-you wouldn’t-”
“Oh, don’t worry, ya don’t need to be scared...” His scowl flipped slowly into a warm grin as he ambled towards her. “The basement’s plenty big enough, though you’ll spend most of the time tied up!”
She yelped and leaped from the bed, but the bear instantly snatched her by the tail before her feet ever touched the ground. She flailed and screamed as loudly as she could. Would the neighbors hear her? It didn’t matter because he pinched her muzzle shut with two of his fingers. Down to the basement he carried her, whistling as she cried and tried to pry his fingers off.
The next two weeks were a living nightmare. It was worse than prison, much of her time stuffed into that box, tied up. Food and water were sparse. Even the times she wasn’t tied up, the basement door was locked and the mess strewn about prevented ample movement. Every day she prayed for a rescuer...for the chance to make things right…
For the chance to discover true redemption. Little did she know…
Benjamin Avery would be her answer to prayer.
-
Bill’s gaze shot downward at the gray squirrel as she stood on his foot, a jagged and bloodied fragment of porcelain housed deep just above his ankle. He bellowed as he kicked her away. He crouched to inspect the hemorrhaging wound and attempt dislodging the invasive object, dropping Ben in the process. The startled brown squirrel quickly reoriented himself and scurried over to Melody.
“Owww…..” The kick made her bang her head against the oak armoire. The fact that it was old and the wood slightly decayed and softened weakened the impact. She held her paw against the back of her head with clenched teeth and watering eyes.
“A-are you okay-”
“HIDE!” She urgently warned. Bill desperately tried to remove the source of the searing pain, but even stooping was excruciating. The sensation was so overpowering it'd stun him if he made one false move. If the police were coming, it was precious time he was forking over. If Chantal was doing her part though, he'd have nothing to worry about.
“I’ll break...every bone...in your body…” Bill panted and growled through gritted teeth.
Melody tried to stand, but her throbbing headache and rattled inner ear sent her back on her haunches. “Ow ow ow….” She also felt slight bleeding in the back of her head, but all she could do was tilt her head forward and anchor her paw against the cut.
She watched as Bill eventually finagled bits of bloodied shard from his wound. He grunted as each fleck cast away partially restored his mobility. She was eventually able to stand too, but her legs felt weak.
“I...I can’t run...I can hide...but...once he finds me…”
Bill focused his stare on the gray squirrel as a famished predator salivating over cornered prey. With a bandage about his leg and murderous drive in his soul, he limped towards the injured rodent.
Stomp, thump,
Stomp, thump,
Stomp, thump,
Melody lumbered toward a small crack in the wall, panting and groaning with each shuffle of the foot. Behind her a cadence of doom heralded her inevitable end. His breathing grew louder and louder as Melody strained to reach the crevasse.
She saw a ceramic fragment nearby and went for it on a whim. The weapon was a threadbare hope, but another injury she could render his foot could be another few seconds in the squirrels’ favor.
Her hand reached forward; her fingers gracing the ceramic splinter as Bill’s shadow swallowed her up. She wrapped her paw about it and prepared to plunge it into his foot when a large, brown hand reached down and lifted it away. The squirrel gasped as she tried to hold on, but the material allowed no traction. She dropped to the floor.
“Bill...don’t...please…” Melody backed away, but the grizzly easily scooped her up with his other paw.
“I gave ya the chance for a peaceful escape…” Bill growled lowly, dangling the squirrel by her tail and raising the ceramic to her throat. “But that wasn’t good enough…”
Both their ears perked up. Commotion upstairs.
The police!
Wasn't Chantal supposed to stop them and convince them nothing was amiss? Bill froze in petrified distraction, his attention no longer on Melody.
Adrenaline and survival instinct surged through every fiber of Melody’s being. With heart pounding and forearms unhindered, she punched the ceramic shard out of the bear’s hand with as much vigor a weakened squirrel could unleash. It cut partly into her paw as a result, making her squeal in pain, but it purchased just enough time. Her scream gave away her position, sending enforcements down the stairs.
The door burst open. Blue uniforms. Glocks. Force. Rescue. Bill stooped to retrieve the fragment when he was ordered to freeze, let Melody go, and raise his paws. Ben darted into the mass of officers; Melody limping behind as two of them stepped forward to read the bear his rights and place him in cuffs. Amid the trauma of nearly having her throat slit, Melody remembered to tell them about the pills. She blurted about what they did, where they were, and what Bill used them for.
She never wanted them to destroy another life again.
As a seething Bill was escorted outside to a waiting police car (meanwhile noticing neither Chantal nor her car was anywhere to be seen..and that it was probably Melody who called the police), Ben sobbed and Melody squeezed him in a consoling, sister-like hug.
“We’re safe...we’re free…” She smiled and cried with him, though that was partly because of the excruciating pain her hand was in. “Thank God…”
Melody had to be pulled away eventually so she could be rushed to the hospital. She complied, but asked about being able to meet up with the Averys as soon as she could. Being liberated from Bill’s dungeon of poisonous despair was only one thing on her list.
She needed closure with the Averys.
As did Ben.
-
Evelyn never stopped gazing out the window of the station’s lobby; her paws pressed against the glass in anxious anticipation. Her longing eyes followed every pair of headlights that whizzed by. Eventually, one of those would belong to a car bringing her son back. Minutes ticked by.
Five...
Ten...
Twenty...
Car after car zipped along Raindust Boulevard. Faceless drivers tearing through the night in humdrum monotony; no thought or care about the mother or her son
Thirty…
Thirty-one…
Thirty-two…
“Ben...please…come back...” Evelyn softly hit her head against the glass in subdued frustration and fear. Knowing her son was kidnapped raked vicious grooves of dread through her being. Was he hurt? Was he abused? Starved? Sleep-deprived?
Dead?
A tear rolled down her cheek after forty minutes elapsed. “God, please...I don’t wanna lose ‘im too...please…” She squeaked softly, but audible enough for Marcus to hear. His mouth opened to strengthen her with fortifying words when one car speedily pulled into the station lot. The strident resplendence of headlight beams made the two shield their eyes. They couldn’t tell anything about the car except that it parked almost squarely at the curb in front of the double-glass door. The headlights dimmed as the engine shut off. Marcus and Evelyn removed their arms from before their eyes as their vision was restored.
A police car.
No sooner did Evelyn make this realization that the back-right passenger door popped open. Behind it appeared two pairs of legs, which she surmised to be those of a red fox.
“I’ll help you.” Evelyn heard her say and another two pairs of legs gently met the cold asphalt surface.
Ben’s.
The child barely had the chance to reorient his feet with the ground before being swept off of them into a motherly, euphoric embrace.
“BEN! My baby! My baby!”
“Mom!” Her little son beamed, hugging her tightly in return. His little tail swished happily as his mother smothered his face with kisses. “I m-missed you!” He cried.
“I missed you too…” She also cried, not letting go. “My baby...oh God, thank You…thank You…”
The red fox smiled wordlessly at the scene before she and her partner walked into the police station to file their reports. Ben struggled to give the fox a statement, still reeling from the nightmare of the past few hours, but she was patient. Let the victim take all the time he needed. The wolf thanked them as they walked by; the squirrel mother quickly remembering to do likewise before the two disappeared into the building.
Evelyn clung to and cradled Ben in her weary arms. Her hold was unrelenting, as though a void of nothingness would consume him if she loosened her grasp. Neither talked for the next several minutes; mother and son holding each other in an endless moment of joyful reunion. Marcus slowly scooped them both up into his arms; the action catching them both by surprise but resulting in laughter.
“Grampa!”
“Ben!” He returned the laughter, moisture in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re alright!” He nuzzled his little grandson and licked the side of his face, resulting in a giggling squeak. Evelyn joined in the nuzzling and giggling, showering her son with unyielding love.
“Th-that tickles!” Ben squealed with tears and laughter, trying to release himself so he could climb onto his grandpa’s muzzle and reciprocate the tickling, but the wolf was too powerful.
Marcus eventually wound up on his back as the three of them were enveloped in boundless mirth. The cold, hard cement didn’t bother him as he let his grandson return all the hugs and tickles he wanted. It wasn’t until the lupine grandfather was out of breath that the elephant in the room nudged the happy trio with its trunk.
Ben’s eyes met his mother’s and grandpa’s, and his smile gradually slipped into a mournful grimace. He opened his mouth to speak, but his mother broke in first. Her smile faded as well, but she retained a strength that allowed her to speak coherently.
“Ben, it’s okay.” She put a gentle paw on his shoulder as he turned his face in shame. “...Your father’s alive, thank God...He broke his foot in the river, but the hospital fixed it and he’s recoverin’. He misses you so much…”
A pained moan emanated from his throat. The wave of relief that swept over him about his dad did little to stifle the ax that would inevitably drop.
“Everyone misses you...grandma, your aunts, uncle, Rachel…they’ll be so happy to see you again…”
Ben started to cry, turning his face from her a little more. His mind brought forth the last time he ever saw of his brother. Cold, still, lifeless...eyes pallid and empty, unblinking...the color of mortality. A rust-laden sickle sliced through his heart as the image resounded ceaselessly in his conscience. It choked him with the familiar bands of guilt. His lips parted to form the onset of a self-condemning word and, as he caught a glimpse of the pain forming in his mother’s eyes, he shattered.
“Ben, no!” She quickly brought him into the comfort of her firm embrace.
“I’M SORRY!” He wailed, soaking her fur with tears. “I-I’m bad and evil and-”
“You stop that right now!” Evelyn held back crying and stayed in control. “None of this is your fault!”
The guilt-strangled child heaved and lamented. “IT IS TOO! Peter’s gone because of me! I killed him!”
“STOP IT! Look at me, young man.” She pulled away slightly but kept her paws gripped on his shoulders, arresting his attention with her stern, maternal gaze. He didn’t utter another peep. “We all know what happened...it broke our hearts when we heard about Peter...We spent all that day lookin’ for him and you only to find out that…” She wiped her eyes. “your brother was gone. But listen...we know what you did too...the man who told us about Peter also told us about you.” A very slight but sincere smile appeared on her face. “...You tried to save 'im.”
Ben stared.
“I don’t wanna hear this nonsense about you bein’ evil and dumb. You loved Peter…”
“But…” His voice sputtered pitifully, eyes shifting downward. “I...I still killed him…”
Evelyn shook her head. “You didn’t. The man who proved you tried to save 'im proved you’re innocent.”
Ben gawked in disbelief. “Wha…?”
“It’s true...and I know he’d be happy to prove it to you.”
The young squirrel was stricken numb for words. Of all the words in the universe that could be used to describe him, ’innocent’ was not one of them. Saying he did nothing wrong that night was tantamount to redefining the very laws of the cosmos. He wanted her to be right, but...how could he be both Ben and not guilty? His mother perceived the unyielding doubt in his demeanor. Knowing his proclivity towards self-loathing, it didn’t surprise her.
But she wasn’t going to give up on him.
Marcus suggested everyone retire for the night and catch up on much-needed sleep. All the questions occupying his and Evelyn’s minds surrounding the kidnapping and how Ben was handling it would have to wait. For now, they could rest easy knowing he was safe.
The gray wolf drove his family back home through a damp, drizzly night. He usually loved engaging his ears in Classical music while coursing along the dark, empty roads, but opted for the simple, soft hum of the car’s engine this time. Evelyn sat in the back with her son, letting his beleaguered frame nestle against her side.
“My gem from above,
here’s my heart full of love,
be blessed forever,
thou son of the right hand.”
Evelyn could never think of how to make the last line of her lullaby rhyme or flow naturally, but decided she loved it this way. It was catered to Ben’s name. Ever since she told him that, it made him feel special whenever she sang it. Thoughts whirred about in Ben’s mind as honeybees in a hive. Bill, Melody, everything that transpired over the last two days. However, his mother’s caressing whisper and soothing touch pacified his spirit. His eyes slowly closed; his weary soul slipping peacefully into a sanguine, serene slumber.
Upon arriving home, Marcus quietly carried Ben by the scruff of his neck to bed. It appeared already made; the Mighty Space Tigers blanket free of wrinkles. The wolf pulled the sheets back, laid the tiny squirrel on his side, and tugged the sheets up to cover his body save for part of his head.
“Good night Ben, I love you.” Marcus softly nudged the back of his little head with his snout and tip-toed out of the dark room. He closed the door and let out a very, very long-awaited sigh of relief.
Finally...peace.
-
The following Saturday; four days after Ben reunited with his family
Evelyn stood at the marble counter of her kitchen swirling her specially-concocted hazelnut syrup into a glass of cold milk. She hummed “Nothing but the Blood of Jesus.” Meanwhile, a quiet and wistful smile on her face. The window was open, allowing the warm forest breeze and chirping of yellow warblers to serenade the kitchen. This sweet libation was for Ben, who considered this simple mixture the “bestest” drink in the world. Two guests, both merely satisfied with cool water, sat in the other room with him. They waited patiently for Evelyn, musing about how they all wound up in the others’ lives. Rachel was napping and Ronald was tending to business in Evergreen. He promised to come back as soon as he could.
It was Ronald and Evelyn’s idea that they be here and were grateful they were able to come. There was much to talk about.
“Here we are,” Evelyn set each drink before its respective guest. “Thank you for comin’...I know these aren’t the happiest circumstances, but at least we’ll have some closure finally.”
She glanced subtly at her son seated between Rodney and Melody.
“Of course.” the bat nodded, accepting his water. “Thank you.”
Melody echoed his reply and cleared her throat. “And thank you for letting me back here again. Uh...I didn’t exactly leave you with a good last impression. I...I’m very sorry about Peter. He was a sweet kid; it’s so heartbreaking.” Her mind flashed back to the instance where three-year old Peter rambled excitedly and incoherently about a movie he wanted to see. She remembered the sparkle and life in his expressions and gestures. He was happy about everything and liked everything. Learning about his passing crushed her. He didn’t deserve that.
Ben looked down and let out a rueful whimper. Evelyn put a warm, assuring paw over his shoulder and squeezed it lightly.
“Thank you,” the mother sighed and wiped a tear, “it’s...horrible gettin’ used to. We just wanted to have a picnic...now we’re here preparin’ his service. H-he would’ve been seven in June.”
Rodney took a tissue from the sky-blue tissue box on the table and offered it to her. She turned it down but thanked him for being thoughtful.
“I’ll be fine for now, though I’ll definitely need ‘em Saturday.” Evelyn turned her attention to Melody. “So...I guess you wanna tell Ben now? Then what happened at, what’s his name’s…”
“Bill.”
“Bill’s house.” Evelyn shuddered. “I hope it doesn’t pain ya to talk about it. I do wanna thank you for savin’ Ben’s life though; he told me that much.”
Melody shook her head and smiled. “It’s fine, I’ll talk about it.” She turned to Ben, who faced her with expectant eyes. “So...Ben, the reason I knew you, but you didn’t remember me, was because I babysat you, Peter, and Carla three years ago. You were only five, and it was the day your sister was born.”
Ben’s eyes shifted upward and squinted as he strained to remember. Nothing but haze.
“And…” She bit her lower lip in hesitation. “I yelled at you and blamed you when I kicked my phone to the ground and broke the screen. I, um, said some very mean things and made you cry even though you did nothing wrong.”
The brown squirrel’s eyes widened in earnest surprise. The Melody who saved his life five days ago didn’t sound like someone who’d do that. “Y-you did?”
She nodded. “I know you don’t remember any of that, but it doesn’t make it right. The main reason I remembered you was because, well...I felt very bad about it afterwards. Especially after I wound up in jail-”
“What? You went to jail because you yelled at me?” Ben threw his head back in shock.
“No no.” She chuckled. “I went to jail because, well, I couldn’t control my anger like a grown-up. I hurt other people and got in very big trouble for it. It was after I got out that I wandered around. I...had no reason to live. I messed up so much...I hurt you, I hurt others, I hurt myself…I felt...worthless.” She grabbed a tissue from the box and wiped her eyes. “I knew no one could possibly love me ever again...and that’s when Bill found me.”
The younger squirrel was silent; the usual, painful thoughts of self-abasement assailing his mind as Melody recounted her woes. Her words sounded no different from his.
“Long story short,” she continued, crumpling the used tissue in her paw, “he promised he could help me find peace. He had a so-called answer for my sadness and guilt. An easy way out. It was...tantalizing. He had a pill that peacefully kills you and offered it to me. I…” she grabbed another tissue. “I almost swallowed it. I...I felt done with my life. Done with everything. No more remorse, pain, crippling sorrow about everything I’ve ever done wrong.”
Ben averted his gaze to wipe his eyes.
“But...as the pill sat on the back of my throat...I thought about what it would mean. I feared...no...dreaded I would drop straight into hell if I died right there. If it weren’t for the preacher guy who talked to me about Jesus when I was in jail...I would've gone through with it. I spat it out; told Bill I wanted to live. Of course, knowing what he was doing was…” Melody clenched her paws in anger. “beyond criminal, he couldn’t afford to let me go. He tied me up and kept me in the basement. I hated it...hated that I came to him for help...hated that his solution to my pain was death. He offered me the pill every day...hoping he'd make my existence so traumatic I'd give in. I kept refusing it because...I wanted to live...I thought, you know...if there’s a God out there who cares about me and can forgive me...maybe I should hold on and try to find out. I prayed for answers, and...I don’t know if it was coincidence or not, but,” she placed a paw on Ben’s shoulder. “You arrived not long after that...I can’t help but wonder if God sent you to help me. All I know is that I’d still be trapped if you never came. So...thank you.”
Melody leaned to hug Ben and he reciprocated it. His mind was abuzz in cognitive dissonance. The vortex of shame and guilt that consumed his every thought was pelted with burning darts of affirmation. He was born as an entity of evil and dumbness, not an answer to prayer!
People around him kept telling him how wrong he was.
Maybe they knew something he didn’t; something he either couldn’t see...or didn’t want to see.
“So yeah,” Melody faced Evelyn, “Ben somehow got into the basement and freed me. I called the police after that with a phone Bill’s date left in the open.”
“And that’s when Bill tried to...kill you both...that freak...” Evelyn shook her head, unable to fathom losing both her sons. She grabbed a tissue. “Ben, I don’t know if you chose to go to Bill’s house or not, or how you found each other...I’m just glad you’re here again. Safe and sound.” She sniffled. “To think...th-that monster tried to kill my baby…”
Ben hung his head in shame, not making eye contact with anyone. He couldn’t bear to watch his mother cry on top of knowing he willingly entertained thoughts of perishing. Bill wasn’t entirely to blame.
He chose to go with him, after all.
“I’m sorry.” Evelyn exhaled, letting her damp wad of crumpled tissue drop soundlessly onto the table.
Rodney glanced at her. “It’s okay to cry. Um, how about I take it from here if Melody has no more to say.”
Both squirrels nodded. “Go ahead...thank you.”
Ben shrank into the back of his chair when the bat shifted his attention to him. Who was he? What did he have to do with Ben?
“Hi Ben, I’m Rodney, and I promise you you have nothing to be afraid of. Um, how is your day?” The bat inquired merely as a way to break the ice.
“Hi,” he intoned as warmly as a clam. At least he made eye contact. “I’m...fine.”
Rodney thought for a few seconds about how to handle the following conversation with as much tact as possible. Ben was going to feel hurt either way; the goal was to hand him the truth with as little pain as he could.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Rodney cleared his throat. “I...wanted to tell you the truth about what happened to Peter.”
A painful groan seeped mournfully from Ben’s mouth.
“Firstly, I want to set the record straight that you did nothing wrong. I know about the hare and how you tried to save your brother-”
“N-no...I-I killed him. It’s my fault…” Ben turned his face away in abject shame. The familiar condemning cadence paraded like a loathsome fire off his tongue.
“You couldn’t have. This...isn’t easy to say or hear, but…” Rodney exhaled. “He was...already gone by the time you tried to save him...h-he drowned...it’s no less horrible,” Rodney sighed, “but it shows you’re not to blame.”
Ben’s head swiveled sharply in Rodney’s direction. “Wa-wait...what? B-but...I-I heard c-cracks wh-when I pressed on his chest!”
“Those bones were already broken; any cracks or snaps you heard would’ve been you breaking pieces that were already loose.”
“B-but how?” Ben countered, his emotions a confounding amalgamation of relief and horror.
Rodney continued. “The river had rocks in it. His body hitting them would’ve broken his bones whether he was alive or not. At the very least, the proof of drowning shows he never felt that.”
Evelyn and Melody grabbed more tissues.
“B-but...I thought h-he was alive! I swear…” Ben stopped mid-thought to recount the details of that scene, but it was mostly a disorienting blur of crazed, intermittent actions.
Running.
Peter's body.
No movement.
Pressing.
Crying.
More Pressing.
Mouth-to-mouth.
Faster pressing. Panic. Crying. Pressing. Panic-
CRACK!
Silence...Lifeless eyes...blank expression donned with an immutable veil of death.
Ben replayed the moments in his mind, but it was like watching a movie with dozens of random frames omitted. Existing frames sown together in an incoherent maelstrom in which the child could find no answers.
“I-I thought…” Ben whimpered, faceless guilt slithering through his spine, drowning out Rodney’s declarations of innocence. “he was alive...I really did…I’m so sorry…” He started to cry.
“Please, don’t feel bad!” Rodney urged. “You were panicking; people miss things when they panic. And it was dark! There’s no need to be sorry-”
“I-I’m so dumb and bad!”
“Ben!” Evelyn got up. “Stop, you did noth-”
“I d-did too! It’s MY fault!”
“Ben-”
The child buried his head into the table and dissolved into tears. “I-I didn’t stop him! He went up the tree and I didn’t stop him! It’s ALL my fault! EVERYTHING IS!”
Evelyn scampered over to him as he lost control. “Stop! STOP!” She tried to scoop him up into a consoling embrace though he wouldn’t budge.
“That’s not true!” Melody tried to help. “You couldn’t have-”
“He’s DEAD because of me!”
“He did not-”
Ben interrupted her with the last outburst she wanted or expected to hear.
“...I’m a STUPID little shit!”
Melody froze; her conscience affixed with steel cords of guilt. She’d never felt such an asphyxiation for words. It all made sense now...this was why Ben blamed himself for everything...even in the face of contrary evidence. Ever since she shrieked at him over her phone...
She broke him.
Melody hid her shame-stricken face with her paws and tearfully fled the room. She never hated herself so much.
-
“This way, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Wheelchair-bound Ronald rolled slowly and squeakily through the open door. His foot was still in a cast, but he was used to the sensation by now and hardly paid it any heed. He wheeled himself into a small but well-lit room. Windows encompassed the walls, allowing the early afternoon light to warm the cement floor in bright, rectangular patches. The handicapped squirrel heard signs of life beyond the walls; birds chirping, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves and spring blossoms on the lawn outside, and the faint sound of weekend Evergreen traffic.
“A life ends everyday...yet it continues everyday all the same…”
He wheeled himself towards the center of the room, where laid the reason he was here.
“To everything, there is a season…a time to be born, a time to die…”
The wheels squeaked forward inch by inch.
“That time came...it always feels like it’s too soon...my parents...the people who didn’t escape the fire…”
Closer.
“Jack...businessman, husband to a loving wife, father of three...never made it to thirty…”
Closer.
“And...my son...my gem…only six...”
Ronald extended his paw and held Peter’s. His fingers closed firmly around a paw half the size of his and squeezed it lightly. His fatherly instinct almost expected him to return the motion. The bereaved dad sighed, not letting go of his son’s little hand.
The mortician did a satisfactory job of removing all signs of injury and rigor mortis from Peter’s body. He looked serene and untainted by violent tragedy. His brown fur was combed and brushed; groomed as though his mother just got him ready for church. His eyes and mouth were closed in a neutral yet content fashion. He was asleep, holden to a dream characterized by spacious, verdant dales and cool springs. They were lined with vibrant, yellow sunflowers swaying in graceful motion with the summer breeze. His paws were folded nicely over his chest, and the bones in his twisted foot were fixed to their normal position.
Ronald was thankful he never had to see what his son looked like during the necropsy.
“God…” the dad bowed his head, not letting go of his son’s hand. A tear seeped out from his eye. “Thank You...thank You for the time Evelyn and I got to spend with our son. We wouldn’t have wanted him to depart so soon...so violently...but Your joy still can’t be taken away. Your victory, Your lovingkindness, Your promise of resurrection and glory...Peter’s faith is now sight, and he’s more alive than I can imagine because…” he brushed away another tear. “He is present with the Lord and absent from his body; a body of corruption and weakness. He is with the Lord Jesus; victor, saved, awestruck and worshiping in Your presence with endless gratitude and praise. God, F-father…” His tears drenched Peter’s hand. “Help me be strong...I’m so weak...My heart’s broken and it hurts…it hurts so much…I tried to save him...”
Images flickered through his distraught mind of flailing in the river. Peter was there...then he wasn’t...then he was...then he wasn’t. His hand reaching. Grasping. Fighting the torrent. His son’s paw inches out of reach. Foam. Rocks.
Then darkness.
It was the last time he saw his little boy alive. One hundred sixty-eight hours ago, Peter and his siblings were tricking their dad to sit on a cushion and activate their prank balloon. Laughing. Giggling. Ready to enjoy a peaceful day with family.
It never came.
Life wasn’t fair. It was cruel and indiscriminate. Anything with life, breath, blood coursing through its veins...was liable to perish. With warning, without warning, time would run out. A period would stamp the final breath in an unwavering, unilateral fashion. For the nihilistic and godless, nothing existed beyond that period. No more sentences. No more paragraphs, chapters, or stories. Just...the end.
Thankfully for Peter and the rest of the Averys, his story may have ended; ‘The End’ typed in bold-face below the final punctuation…
...but an endless, perfect sequel just began.
Before leaving the mortuary, Ronald wrote ‘John 11:25’ on a tiny slip of paper and slid it into his paw. He closed his tiny fingers about it and stood to give him a light kiss on the forehead.
“Goodbye, Peter...I’ll see you again…”
He beheld his son for another minute of longing silence before swiveling his chair to leave. Gently, he shut the door as though being too loud would wake Peter up. The room’s lights switched off after a few seconds, leaving the squirrel’s still frame in a solitary beam of sunlight.
Minutes later, Ronald was driving back to Pine Trails. No music, lost in his thoughts. His family, along with Rodney and Melody, were waiting for him. When he bumped into Melody at the hospital on Tuesday, they exchanged words and caught up with each other. Though it was awkward and tense at first, he extended a paw of reconciliation and helped repair a bridge once burned. He gave her the gospel upon hearing about her search for peace and forgiveness. An hour later, she professed to believe in it and accepted his invitation to join his family at church the coming Sunday. The exchange was a glint of light in this wretched week.
“God,” he prayed once more, “I know Ben is taking this harder than everyone...but I know that if Your grace can find its way into Melody’s heart, it can soften his. I pray that...Your word would lovingly correct him and guide him into resting in Your wisdom, not his own. Regardless of how long it takes...I know Your word can accomplish this. Thank You Father, and amen.”
Guilt was abundant. Pain. Sorrow. Regrets...There was seemingly no end. Ronald’s life and the lives around him were filled with them. Lives broken and tattered into odious heaps by the world and its wiles.
But Ronald knew something else...the peace of God was more powerful and authoritative than sin and all its offspring. And the best part?
It was available to all...for all.
Even Ben.
