Return to Scribblers and Ink Spillers Home Page

Return to Emerald Tales page

Return to Copper Wire page

Frank

by Raymond Koonce

Frank was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. “Too long, that noise has been going on just been too dratted long,” he complained. “I gotta get out of here.”

He was pacing back and forth in his living room, feeling like he was going crazy. His home was located on Spain Street, just around the corner from Royal Street in the old French Quarter of New Orleans, Louisiana. The noise had wakened Frank and he was not a happy camper. You see, it was the time of Mardi Gras and the celebrations and parades were in full sway. Just now, a parade of floats, musicians and revelers was marching by, no more than twenty feet from Frank’s front door, and the noise was deafening.

“I should have known better than to build my house here,” he mumbled. “How is a self-respecting groundhog supposed to hibernate with all that racket going on? If I don’t get out of here I’m going to bite somebody.”

Now a groundhog, or woodchuck as they were originally called, is really just a big squirrel, and they have some very sharp teeth. Frank’s threat to bite someone was not an idle remark. Frank was a year old, just entering the prime of his life, and had a nasty temper. Now that he was awake, he was not only hungry but also aching for a mate. “You thought you were so smart, building your home away from the rest of the colony. Well, guess what, pal. There isn’t a female within miles of this place, not even an old or ugly one.”

Frank scampered up the side entrance of his burrow and carefully peeked out. He saw people standing everywhere, yelling and clapping their hands as the parade passed by. The smell of a recent rain lingered in the air. Lights burned everywhere and it took Frank a moment to understand that night had already fallen. Hopefully, all these people would be leaving his neighborhood soon. He retreated back down into his home and began making plans.

Some three hours before dawn, the streets of New Orleans had finally quieted down, with only the occasional drunken reveler staggering along. Frank made his move. He popped his head out of the main entrance of his home for just a second, and then pulled back. Examining the memory of what he had seen in that brief look around, he stuck his head out again, this time really looking the situation over.

Seeing nothing in his immediate vicinity, Frank left his burrow and ran across Spain Street toward Royal. Once on Royal, he ran to the east, watching and smelling for people, dogs, and cats while remaining in the shadows as much as possible. He crossed St. Roch Avenue and continued on to Franklin Avenue, where he had to rest for a moment. After a few minutes, which he badly needed to catch his breath, Frank started east again and ran until he got to Port Street, which he figured was about half way to the colony. Time to rest again. The winter sleep had used most of his stored energy and he was tiring more quickly than he liked, but there was nothing he could do about it until he could reach his destination.

Frank ducked into a narrow alley to take his breather. As he was resting, his keen ears picked up the sound of something moving toward him from the depths of the alley. The next thing he knew an orange and white striped alley cat had positioned itself not far from him. The cat was crouched down, obviously intending to attack and have breakfast. Frank turned to face the cat, bowed his back and did a war dance with his paws. “Cat, you need to move on while you’re still in one piece,” he angrily warned the cat.

“Oh, ho, a tough guy. You think you’re a match for a tomcat, squirrel?”

“I’m not a squirrel, you mangy fur ball. I’m a groundhog and I’m gonna use these claws that I dig with and these razor-sharp teeth to have me a cat for my next meal. If you’d take the trouble to look, you’ll see I’m bigger and heavier than you are.”

Well now, the cat had been a bit careless in his approach, and now that he looked, he saw that the groundhog wasn’t lying. Still, a cat had his pride to consider, so he said, “Tell you what, squirrel. I’m gonna go get a couple of my buddies and if you’re still here when we get back, you’re gonna to be the main course in our next meal.”

So saying, the cat quickly disappeared in the direction from which he had come. Frank wasted no time in resuming his journey. Had he been properly fed, he’d have welcomed a fight with three cats, but he was still weak from his long sleep. St. Ferdinand Street passed beneath his feet and at last he saw ahead of him the railroad running next to Press Street. He made it to the railroad tracks before collapsing in exhaustion.

After a few moments rest, Frank helped himself to some of the heavy grass growing beside the tracks, and even found a puddle of water from the recent rain from which to drink. Soon he was feeling more like getting on with his trip. Observing the amenities, Frank stood on his hind legs to his full height of twenty-four inches and loudly whistled to let the colony know he was headed their direction. That whistle reaches to a fair distance, but to Frank’s surprise there was no answering call. Puzzled, he started walking up the tracks toward the north.

When he came to Dauphine Street, Frank stood and whistled again, and again there was no answering whistle. Worried now, Frank looked all around the area on both sides of the tracks. He could see where there had been burrows, but they were obviously abandoned. Where could they have gone? He continued north, stopping occasionally to whistle, hoping against hope that he’d soon hear an answer. About halfway to Burgundy Street Frank encountered a large ditch, which was full of water. He didn’t even slow down because, like all groundhogs, Frank was a proficient swimmer.

At last he reached Burgundy and once more stood up and whistled. This time he thought he heard an answering whistle, and he noted the direction from which it had come. Still to the north, but seemingly on the other side of Press Street. Dawn was breaking by this time and the humans in their smelly vehicles were starting to show up on the streets. Timing his move carefully, Frank first crossed Burgundy and then Press Streets. Once there, he stood and whistled.

This time there could be no doubt. That was another groundhog answering him. His sharp eyesight spotted the one who was answering his call. About a hundred feet from him was the entrance to a groundhog burrow and he could just make out a head protruding from the hole. Now that the protocols had been observed, Frank took off toward the burrow as fast as he could run. When he got there, the other groundhog came out to speak with him, and lo and behold, it was his own brother. “Sam, it sure is good to see you, brother.”

“You too, Frank. Where ya been hiding?”

“I built a house in town, been sleeping there all winter. When I was awakened by the humans with all their noise, I decided to see if I could find the colony.”

“Well, welcome home. If you just woke up, I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

“Sure am, but also looking for a mate. Any stray females around here?”

“Oh, yeah, lots of pretty girls this spring. I’ll introduce you around.”

As good as his word, Sam began taking Frank to the various burrows where young lady groundhogs lived. Frank had some definite ideas about what he wanted in a mate, however, and it began to look like there wouldn’t be a girl to suit him in the colony. Of course, even if he found one he liked, that didn’t mean she’d like him in return, so the odds of finding a mate were looking pretty slim about this point. “There’s only three more unattached girls that I know of, so you better make up your mind,” Sam told him.

Going to another burrow, Sam said, “This one’s name is Jenny, but she already has a reputation for being a little less than ladylike. Likes to put people in their place, she does.”

Sam stamped his foot on the ground, sort of like the way humans knock on doors, but there was no response. Sam put his nose close to the entrance and said, “She’s in there. I can pick up her scent, but she’s not answering.”

“Why don’t you try whistling,” Frank inquired.

Sam did whistle, but at a volume not to be considered rude. After a moment, a furry head poked out of the entrance. “What do you want?” she barked.

Sam took a step back, just in case the girl decided to bite at him. “I wanted you to meet my brother, Frank. He just came in from town.”

Jenny snapped her head around and locked glaring eyes with Frank. And then she seemed to melt. From Sam’s point of view, the transformation in the girl’s face was amazing to behold. Features that a moment ago had been sharp and angry suddenly became soft. Her eyes twinkled and she even appeared to be a little shy. Sam’s mouth dropped and he looked to see what his brother thought of the change. When he saw his brother’s face, his jaw dropped a little further. Frank had a dumb grin on his face and the look of someone who had been hit on the head and was seeing stars.

The courtship was short and sweet, for it had been love at first sight for both Jenny and Frank. Three days after they met, in a ceremony held before the entire colony, the chief of the colony pronounced them wed. The transformation that love had wrought was a thing of beauty. Jenny became the darling of the colony and was loved by all. Frank never went back to his burrow on Spain Street, but took on the responsibilities of wedded life and built a new home for them within the colony. In the fullness of time, he assumed the leadership role of the colony and was respected for his wisdom and careful consideration of all that matters in life. Proof yet again that love is indeed a powerful force in the universe.

END

Copyright 2010 Raymond Koonce

Return Home

Return to Emerald Tales page

Return to Copper Wire page

This website and all its contents are Copyright 2009-2010 Scribblers and Ink Spillers, LLC. No copying in whole or in part is allowed. You may link to this page.