Little Bright Star

A Ranger Tale Of New York

Chapter 1: There's Something About Christmas Time

It was late Sunday afternoon, but around that very particular time of the year, the days were fairly short, so it was almost dark outside. A chilly wind blew through the city, the people were dressed appropriately for the freezing late fall weather with their scarfs and jackets or coats. But somehow, in a way one can see only once a year, their mood wasn't pushed down by what the season brought with itself. There was something special in their hearts, a unique kind of warmth and cheerfulness. The lights and decorations which had been installed on buildings, in parks, along the streets, and especially inside the many shops and stores over the week added to that wonderful feeling one only experiences by the time when the old year is closing in on its own end. And the second-last year of the decade had just a few weeks left.

Three men, however, did not feel like so many of the people around them when they left the shop they had just been in. For they left the shop in handcuffs, and apart from the street lights, the scene was not illuminated by seasonal decorations yet, but instead by the lights on top of the police cars standing in front of the shop. Two officers shoved the men into the back of one of the cars.

The short, red-headed one shook his head. "Really, how can one break into a book shop now, Kirby?"

"Well, Muldoon," Officer Kirby replied, "perhaps they needed the money."

"If they needed money, they should've waited until the Christmas business is over," Officer Muldoon said. "The cashier would've been bursting with cash by then."

"But when the Christmas business is over, Christmas is over, too, and you don't need money for presents anymore," Officer Kirby explained and shut the rear door of the police car. "Hey Sarge, can you believe these fellas claim they were defeated by mice?"

"Mice?" Sergeant Spinelli didn't hear this for the first time. In fact, he had heard it a few times that year, but never in any of the more than 20 years he had spent in the New York Police Department. At least he couldn't remember he had heard it before, but since that year's summer, he had been told this so unusually often that he started believing in a fashion trend among the outlaws in the city. "Are they crooked enough to steal each other's excuses for being busted now?"

Like so many legends, this one did have a grain of truth. From their hiding on one of the lowest book shelves, two mice watched the scene with satisfaction, and so did a fly and two chipmunks. It had indeed been them who had stopped the attempted burglary. They had defended the cashier and everything else that was of any notable value for thieves, they had even fixed and activated the alarm system which the burglars had rendered unusable, and ultimately, they had forced the crooks to surrender just in time when the police arrived.

For the chipmunk in the aviator jacket and the fedora hat who had led the spontaneous operation, a dream had come true. Charles Maplewood, called Chip by his friends, had dreamt of a career as a private investigator for a long time, a dream he had believed was out of reach for the tiny rodent that he was. But a few months ago, he and his best friend Dale Oakmont had been drawn into one of the biggest criminal cases the city had seen for decades. They had met new friends with whom they had formed the crime-fighting and rescue team which as a matter of fact had done more on that particular case than the police themselves. Case after case had followed, all of which were solved successfully, and although the Rescue Rangers had never joined the police, they had managed to carry on the tradition of Chip and Dale's friend and mentor, the retired police dog Plato.

Chip leaned against a book. "I can't believe it. Isn't Christmas the time when everyone tries to be good and nice to each other?"

"It's still a long time 'til Christmas, pally," Monterey Jack reminded him. The burly mouse of Australian origin and with the corresponding accent had been the first to join Chip and Dale on their first case together with his old buddy, the housefly Zipper. "Besides, crime knows no seasons. Y'know, that reminds me o' th' time when I clashed with that group of Easter bunnies in pinstripe suits in Naples."

"Maybe that was their way of 'being good,'" Dale supposed. "They're crooks after all. Maybe bad is good for them."

"Golly, Dale," Gadget said, "how can bad be good? That's a contradiction in itself. Then again, what we did was certainly good, and what the police did was good, too, but it was bad for them. On the other hand, I don't believe they'd define a burglary or any other crime as good, criminals or not." Gadget Hackwrench was the fifth member of the team that was named Rescue Rangers later, and the last one to join them. She had lost her father, a good friend of Monterey Jack's, a good two years ago, and from then on, she had spent more than a year all alone in the place where she grew up, the wreck of a bomber plane from World War II which she had turned into a high-security area. It took someone like Chip, Dale, Monty, and Zipper to make it past the deadly traps she had installed and bring her back into something that resembled a life much more closely. Gadget was the perfect combination of beauty and brains, and Chip and Dale both couldn't take their eyes off of her. But a dark past like hers couldn't be shaken off so easily. She picked up a small tinfoil star that had fallen down during the recent battle and looked at her blurred self as though she was holding a mirror. "No, crime is never good," she continued, "especially around Christmas..." She fell silent again, sat down on the edge of the shelf, and stared at the star which she held in her hands, watching her own face turn into a frown.

"Gadget?" Chip asked. "Gadget, is something wrong?"

The blond mouse looked up and at her team mate. "What? Oh... er..."

Outside, the police prepared to leave. Officer Kirby moved the searchlight on the car he was sitting in away from the shop, and it happened to illuminate another shop on the other side of the street and a model airplane in particular before he switched it off.

The plane caught Gadget's attention. She laid the star back onto the floor, got up again, and climbed aboard the self-made aircraft of hers which mostly consisted of a discarded bleach bottle and a red balloon. "Golly, I've got some ideas for upgrades on the Rangerplane. Let's fly back." But no smile returned to her beautiful face.

Wondering what was going on, Chip turned to Monty who shrugged and said, "I dunno either what's up with th' sheila, Chipper. Th' last time I saw 'er before I met you fellas, she was four years old. A lot must've 'appened since then."

Monty was about to head for the Rangerplane, too, when Chip held him back. "Of course something happened since then," he said with a lowered voice, almost whispering, so that Gadget would not hear what he said. "Remember what she told us about her father."

"Geegaw..." Monterey Jack took off his aviator cap. He never knew what Geegaw Hackwrench had meant to his daughter Gadget when she grew up, but he knew that his old fellow still meant a lot to him. They had parted after a nasty quarrel on the isle of Zanzibar, a quarrel which Monty had caused himself and felt sorry for, and that was the last time they had met each other. He remembered Geegaw as a nice guy, and he believed he had always been a good father to Gadget. "Too-ra-loo, I understand what ya mean, Chip." He was serious. He was always serious when he called Chip by that name. "Li'l Gadget must've spent 'er last two Christmases all alone."

"Poor Gadget." Chip looked at the mouse who kept herself busy with the pre-flight check. "She has always been so cheerful, she shouldn't be sad on Christmas."

Dale put on a grin and stomped ahead. "Well, I can cheer her up in no time!" But Zipper flew in his way, motioned him to stop, and told him not to rush it.

"Zipper's right, pally," Monty said, "we need ta be more careful an' more tactful with 'er. Even I dunno what's tickin' inside 'er 'ead. Or inside 'er 'eart. But I'm afraid there's a lot in there that can break if ya don't 'andle it properly."

The chipmunks both stared at their Australian companion. This was a way they would never have expected him to speak. But then again, Gadget was the daughter of his best friend. And over the past months, Monty had tried what he could to be a replacement father for her whenever he saw the need arise, because after all, of all the Rescue Rangers, he was the one she was the most familiar with. And if there was one thing they had learned from Monty, it was that there was no arguing with him, especially when he was right. And he was right.

Before they could answer, Monty added, "An' lads, please try not ta fight over 'er an' try ta catch 'er attention fer now. I don't mean ignore 'er, but don't annoy 'er by 'ittin' on 'er all day, alright?"

"Alright, Monty," they agreed, albeit not quite willingly.

While Monty and Zipper returned to the Rangerplane, Chip went and picked up the small tinfoil star which Gadget had found. Dale watched and asked, "What are ya doin' with that star, Chipper?"

"I thought it'd be a nice Christmas decoration for the Headquarters," Chip answered and stashed the star away in his jacket.

With the team of five aboard, the Rangerplane flew back to the big oak tree with the Rescue Rangers Headquarters in it. Gadget steered the craft into the hangar, and after everyone had gotten off it, she stood and stared at it silently. The others didn't leave the hangar yet, so they noticed her discomfort.

"Is anything up, Gadget?" Chip finally asked. He felt that someone had to say something, be it because it was something Gadget would want to talk about, be it just to break the silence.

Gadget looked away from the Rangerplane and at Chip. "No... no. I... must get working. Excuse me." With these words, she ran out of the hangar, and before anyone could follow her, she was upstairs.

Chip wondered, "Did I say anything wrong?"

"Ya meant it well, Chipper," Monty replied, "but I think this is a difficult time fer 'er."

"Well, if we can't help it," Chip suggested, "let's do something productive."

"Like go an' watch TV." Dale went ahead, and Chip, Monty, and Zipper followed. They had just solved a case, defeated a gang of burglars, and now they needed to relax.

The four male Rangers sat down in front of the custom-made television set. A few, mostly seasonal commercials were aired, and the news was to follow. However, Monty didn't remain seated for long. He got up and headed out of the main room.

"Oh," Dale shouted, "can ya get me somethin' from the kitchen?"

"I'm not headin' fer the kitchen, mate," Monty told him, "I'm lookin' after Gadget. Maybe she'll talk with me. In a sense, we're on a new case."

"Making Gadget happy?" Dale asked. And Chip expressed his doubts, "How is this a case?" He liked the idea, of course, and he would loved to achieve it by himself, but how did it qualify as a case for the Rescue Rangers?

"It's a case all right, Chipper me lad, an' a tough one no less."

"Okay, I see your point, Monty," Chip said and turned back to the TV. "Let's talk about it after the news."

Monty went on, but when he had almost disappeared in the hallway, he stopped as Chip called him back. "Monty, wait! Come back here!"

He poked his head back into the main room. "What's up, Chipper?"

Chip pointed at the TV screen. "I think we've got a real case."