Dib07: Some very encouraging readers asked me if I could update, and so any request asking me to update will be granted. I'm very glad this story is still being enjoyed!
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Chapter 8: Verne
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'My heart has joined the thousand, for my friend stopped running today.' – Watership Down – Richard Adams
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The sudden blow of crippling loss seemed to melt away the purpose of life for Verne. He watched with horrifying clarity, RJ die at the claws of the dog. The sky, the grass, everything became a contrast of melancholia. All sounds were drowned in an ebb of sorrow.
Stella's paws were trembling. For she too had seen the horror. Hammy, who had been ready to bolt as soon as RJ were to join them as planned, saw that nothing was happening, except that a morbid silence had enveloped the whole group.
"Vhats going on?" Asked Tiger quietly as the dog's barks began to die down, "why aren't we escaping?"
"Because we don't need to." Answered Stella gravely.
"What's going on?" Hammy asked, now tentatively approaching them, his nose sniffing the faint winter air.
When the turtle turned to him, Hammy saw that his eyes were filled with unshed tears. But he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Looking away from the gardens and everything in it, Verne sadly plodded along ahead until he brushed past an old heap of dead leaves and sat himself on a branch at a pool that had collected with dew.
Stella's moist tears dampened her black fur around her eyes. "RJ's gone." She declared to the group quietly, and with a sense of impending finality.
"What? Gone?" Cried Hammy in shock, "he… he ran away?"
"No," said Lou, "what Stella means is, he's gone, Hammy. He's gone to the Dark forest, where we won't see him again for a very long time."
"He's… he's gone there? Well why didn't he say anything?" Tears began to well up over Hammy's eyes too; "it's not fair!"
Even Coldwing seemed to share in their remorse. For it was not often he came across other creatures that seemed to care so deeply for one another. He only knew one other species that did it, and even then they weren't all that good at it.
"He's gone, just vike vhat." Tiger said dryly. And he too seemed to lose the energy to go on. He sat soberly on the damp grass, a shadow of fear and rue on his furry face.
Penny herself had already experienced a dreadful loss with her baby, and so she seemed the less affected because she had become so numb with shock and grief.
Verne morosely looked over the pool and his face came back to him, weary and full of pain. The racoon was gone. It seemed unreal. Behind him, yards away he was probably laying dead in a pool of blood. But it felt like he should still be there with them, coaxing them on, pulling off jokes and being the brunt of the punt. But no more.
"We've got to keep going." Said Coldwing at last after the long silence.
"Yes," the skunk agreed half-heartedly, "it's what RJ would have wanted."
Hammy didn't seem to have heard them. He crawled up to Verne and snuggled against his shell. Verne barely had the will to hug him back.
Lou was standing with his grown kids. Ozzie was wringing his paws. "Maybe… maybe he's not really dead? Maybe he learned from us? And he's faking it?"
Heather took his paw, shaking her head.
Tiger nodded up to the hills. "The heartland is just over vhat belt of trees and vhere's no more houses. We're only a few steps avay from our new home."
But no one took part in the celebration. Everyone was up and started to move out except Hammy and Verne. Coldwing was prodding them earnestly.
Stella backtracked and came back to them. There was a fine line of moisture under each of her eyes. "Come on fellas!" She sobbed, "we're almost home!"
Verne shook his head. "Nothing's going to be the same without him."
Stella took the squirrel and the turtle's paws and hauled them to their feet. "He had a good life, because of us." She explained softly, "he found all that he ever wanted. A family. And he was loved. Isn't that enough? And he died protecting us. Didn't he? Let's not let his last wishes go to waste. He wants us to be safe and free."
Hammy innocently burst into fresh tears after trying so hard to calm himself.
Verne kept his eyes locked on the earthy floor. It moved gently under him, like he was standing in a stream. "I… I don't think I can go."
"Yes you can." Stella persuaded him, "now come on before something else happens."
Verne only went with her because he knew there was no point staying, no matter what his heart told him. RJ was gone for good. And there were still the others to think for, like Lou, Heather and everyone else. Stella was right. RJ had protected them until his dying breath. And the only way to show the dead racoon any gratitude, was to seek this heartland. But now, he was half wishing they had remained in the old forest. If they had, RJ would have still been with them.
Hammy followed Verne, holding onto his hand like a lost child. Behind him he left a trail of tears that glittered in the sun like crystals.
Tiger marked the new temporary leader, as Verne had no will or heart to guide them on. So, with two leaders down, they made slow, nervous progress through dense urban ground. But just as the Persian cat had promised, they soon passed the last house and saw a belt of trees lining the distance. Their heavy hearts lifted, even if it was brief. And past the line of trees, any creature could see a mountain rearing up in the valley beyond, colored a thin lilac with a painted white snowy top. They were indeed almost there. Verne guessed they had one last day of travel left.
Coldwing was circling above them in sadness. The whole group barely talked as they went, leaving the small human dwellings behind them. Finally, Stella muttered to Tiger, "you know, it's ironic, isn't it?"
"Vhat it?"
"That poor RJ lost his life to another animal. Not to a human at all. And after all those risks he made too."
He nodded.
They travelled up the valley and the going got steeper. The heartland was obviously nestled in a valley on top of a hill where the banks curved down, riddled with pine trees. They saw a lot of crowded crows at the line of thick trees and they were watching them with tiny pinprick eyes and sharp bloodstained beaks. They briefly rested under the shadows of a thicket, mourning quietly as the clouds twirled and rolled in the pallid heavens.
The grief and misfortune took its toll on Verne and he left the others to set off on his own to think. Hammy was about to join him, but Stella gripped him by the paw and shook her head.
Verne, lonely and angry, waddled out into the silent pastures and lush hillsides. RJ should have been with them to get this far. RJ should have had the joy of bringing them out of harm. But he was not here. He had been cruelly taken and it made Verne question everything.
He kicked at the grass, eyes watery and his soul full of umbrage. "If we had never left, this wouldn't have happened. It's all my fault! And Hammy's fault! He was the one who led us to that garden with the kennel!"
Eventually he collapsed in the grass, sobbing. Hammy couldn't have known. Mistakes happened. It was just a part of life.
Verne looked up at the weak sun hiding behind a set of fluffy clouds. It was a warm sunny day. Even when the season was turning. Winter was barely forty days away now. And they had no store. All their food had been left behind in the mayhem. He hoped the heartland had something to give to them, after going so long losing everything.
Slowly he picked himself up again and started walking. He wasn't sure where he was going. He just wanted to keep moving.
Voices became to play merrily in his head, feeding from his depression. It's all lost now. Do you think we'll make it?
Only if we try.
Try?
Yes. Have you ever looked into a pool and wondered what might have been?
No.
Then you should.
Verne rubbed the fast-flowing tears out of his eyes. Finally he came to a bank where a small river frothed at the edges. But in the river it was empty of life.
Have you ever looked into a pool and wondered what might have been?
Verne looked at his perplexed reflection and saw his twisted brow and shinning tears. "RJ," he said quietly, "I miss you. I want you back."
Then you should.
Verne looked deeper into the river, and something struck him, like a fathomless idea that tweaked into life. The warm glow in his eyes returned.
Only if you try.
The crows looked on, indifferent on their dark perches. But their dull lives were sparkled briefly by a turtle running madly back to a group of various critters until he was hidden back in the underbrush.
TBC
