Prologue Summary
Prologue: Back in Action. This is part 1 of 6, introducing the context of Episode 1. Shipping between RJ and Heather does not come into play here. The Prologue runs for 4 chapters (1-4).
Author's Note: This chapter has an illustration made for it. On FF, you will NOT be able to see this image (since you can't add images into the text). The story is posted on DeviantArt and AO3 as well, both of which include these illustrations that will be present in a chapter every once in a while.
15 years ago on this day, Over the Hedge was first released to theaters. The years passed, and there was something… missing. A sequel. Yes, the sequel we've been straining for all this time. But with no part 2 in sights, the world was left just a little bit darker-
Alright alright, enough with the unnecessary exposition. You're here to read, not read… uh, wait. You're here to read, not read some nonsense. There we go. So sit back, grab up a handful of that deliciously-buttery popcorn that's definitely sitting next to you on your seat, and tell your brain to pretend that this unnecessarily elaborate story is even hardly enough to compensate for the hole of meaningless hope in our minds.
Important info: This fanfic doubles as both a direct sequel to the movie and an RJ x Heather story (although no romantic stuff occurs between them until a while later).
START of the PROLOGUE
Prologue, Chapter 1: Movie Night (~9k words)
No embarrassing failure at a vending machine could deter their spirits. But it looks like RJ would just have to settle for a 0-2 against the damned thing. For now. The villainous voodoo shenanigans that thing could pull off certainly wouldn't stop him from trying. A lost battle doesn't have to mean a lost war. Someday, vengeance would be paid for all the quarters claimed by that despicable heap of metal. What did it have on RJ? The ability to magically generate food at its fingertips, certainly. If it had any. Still, the group had proven that they could easily steal more food than that thing could even dream of storing within its teasing grasp.
But now, the Hedgies had themselves gathered around the familiar sight of the TV set that had recently become their leisurely camp. The lack of light from the midnight sky merely dimmed the setting rather than their moods.
As RJ, through the playful urging of the others, approaches his own designated spot in the center of it all, he scans his head around the towering man-made objects they had stolen the past week. Each one with its own story, its own meaning… all of that symbolic blibber blabber. A home. One true home. No more Vincent. No more deception. No more of a need to suffer the indecencies of that vending machine alone.
He begins to take his post on the purple seat. "Y'know guys… it feels good to be home."
The others continue to take their places around the set. Verne stands just to the right of the seat and turns to RJ, giving him a warm, wholesome grin. "Take a nice, long break, RJ. You deserve it."
A single laugh slips out of his mouth. "A break? Heh, heck no!" He leans back in the seat and throws one foot over the other leg. "Nah, we gotta get back in there tomorrow."
"Yuh sure, man?!" Stella's objecting voice busts in. "We haven't had some real down-time in forevuh. My feet are killin' me!"
"Hey, just think about it. Those guys are gonna be freakin' out after our little stunt! We gotta make the most of it."
Tiger sits up tall in his spot. "Ah, to finally relieve myself with some true adventure! I've been just dying to acquire a taste of some action!" he proudly admits. "Doesn't that sound invigorating, Stella?"
"Yeah yeah, sure," Stella replies. She begins to nudge the cat with her elbow. "But I think we've had almost enough 'action' for a week."
"Heh-heh, all this bustle reminds me of my old times in the forest," Ozzie chuckles. "I was quite the adventurer, you know."
"Hey, enough chit-chat!" Heather cuts in before turning to RJ, speaking in a sharp whisper. "Hurry up RJ, take the wheel before dad starts, like, tellin' his life story over here."
RJ flicks his head around the scene. "Where's the-?"
The 3 porcupine kids bounce up to him, Bucky holding the remote up to him in excitement. "Here it is!"
"1 remote, comin' right up!" Spike chimes in.
A small button on the remote was already being approached by Quillo's stubby finger. "What's this button do?"
RJ quickly snatches the remote from Bucky's hand before Quillo can reach the button of his interest. "Come one, come all!" he rallies. "TV time is now officially in session."
An arm waves in his direction from the right of the seat. Penny greets his eyes. "Give us a few words there, RJ."
"Yeah, a little speech!" Lou enthusiastically agrees.
Hammy zips into position and plants himself on the ground in front of Heather, bouncing up and down in the grass. "Ooo, I'm excited!"
The thought brings a chuckle to RJ. These guys were really serious about this. "A speech, huh? Alright…"
He clears his throat as the others eagerly await his delivery. A sturdy yet smooth breeze blows forward at RJ, proudly blowing the short hairs on the top of his head back in the wind. With his newfound family sitting before him, the display of welcoming grins brings a new energized spirit into his soul. Nothing could be heard in this time of pause. No voices, no outside disturbances from the human realm just beyond the Hedge - only a spotlight reserved for RJ alone to occupy.
At last, he sits up tall in his seat, broadcasting his final comments on the self-caused hell he had just been saved from by those he had been intending to transfer it to. Just pawns. But the accepting grin grown on his face begs to differ. "One week ago, I was livin' on the streets. I was greedy. Selfish. A big fat b-hole, you could say."
The porcupine kids begin cracking up. Penny sharply hushes them.
"Translation?… I was a straight up loser. But now… I've got the family I needed. So, we gonna watch out for the world? Pshhh, nah. The world's gonna watch out for us. Cheers."
The round of applause comes forth. All these cheers and celebratory remarks orbiting around him, all these faces… they were here to stay. A spectacle of attention, respect, and affection all bending his countenance down into some bittersweet expression of comfortable unfamiliarity.
But the hesitant thoughts do not last long. RJ slouches back in his seat, the all-powerful remote in hand. "Better get comfy, gang. With you guys around, these channels are never gonna get old."
He clicks the TV on.
"These channels are getting sooo old…" Heather groans.
RJ sighs. "Ay Oz', pass that popcorn. We need a distraction from this snore-fest."
The sun had fallen into the horizon by the time the remaining TV-goers had been freed from the… well, frankly... disruptive audience members. The TV set retained its typical light blue hue from the screen reflecting off the eyes of the Hedgies. Additionally, a string of lights positioned in front of the purple seat illuminated the ground around the seating areas orbiting the TV in an arc.
The purple seat itself was routinely occupied by both RJ and Heather, their hips squished against each other on the throne-like contraption. Perfect centered to face the blue light radiating from the TV screen a few feet away - the optimal viewing location.
A bit of ways to the right of the seat sat Stella and Tiger side-by-side on a smooth tan rug covering the grass. RJ's golf bag lying on the ground to the left housed Ozzie with a popcorn cup sturdily wrapped by his arms.
Ozzie and Heather reach over from their seats to transfer the cup into Heather's possession. In an instant, RJ was already reaching an arm over to Heather's side to claim the first victim of their binging. Heather follows in his action before slouching her head to the side and propping it up with an arm against the armrest. RJ sets his right hand back onto the universal remote taped down to his own designated armrest of the booster seat and begins clicking through the channels again, desperate to find any form of entertainment to satisfy their forcefully lowered standards. Eventually.
The voice of a male news reporter leaves the TV: "Tonight on CBC Local News: suburban semi-truck causes a stir among residentials after making roadkill out of a large-"
A click on the channel button from RJ. "Nope."
Next to present itself is an energetic female voice: "Has you really been far, even as decided to use, even go want to look more like? Call-"
Another click with a groan. "Marketing these days…"
A female voice is accompanied by dramatic background music. "But John, you're the only one I've ever been able to relate to!-"
Click. "Eh."
Heather lifts her head up and turns to RJ in slight disappointment. "Hey, that one sounded pretty good."
The rate of RJ's clicking hastens and hastens as he assesses each and every channel in less than a second, eventually accelerating to a pace so quick that it would seem as if Hammy were the one taking the wheel. The others watch in unchanging boredom as RJ's rapid fingering of the channel button creates an epileptic flash of lights and colors reflecting off of their persistent faces, with incomprehensible blips of audio from each channel.
From nearby the area, a squirrel's eyes sleepily peek open from the flurry of flashing lights coming from the direction he was facing while curled up against the damp ground. After coming to his senses with a jolt, a sudden grumble from Hammy's stomach pleads for action to be taken. If that didn't get him on his feet, nothing would. And conveniently enough, his eyes pull themselves like a magnet to an appealing sight: a popcorn cup in Heather's lap waiting for him right in front of his view.
But how to claim this delight? That was the question. Zipping his head around to scan the area, the group's pile of assorted and stacked energy drinks reveals itself nearby off to the side.
Ending RJ's assault on the remote, loud, dramatic music plays from the TV as an action-packed scene fills the screen, particularly drawing the attention of the 5.
"Oh hey, movie's on." RJ calmly rejoices.
"God, finally," Heather blurts with a smile.
"Hurry up, Terrence!" a male voice speaks from the TV."This place is gonna blow!"
"Where's Cindy?" another voice speaks, presumably Terrence.
Each of the animals' faces now light up in relief and contentment. The group now satisfied, RJ reaches back over to the popcorn to glut himself in the buttery paradise. He scoots himself back in the seat and crosses his legs. At the same time, Heather gets her tail wrapped around the soda cansitting in the cupholder on her left and brings it up to her face. Her eyes immediately shoot open wide as what starts as a single sip of the caffeine-boosted beverage quickly escalates into full chug-mode.
After taking a swig, she returns the drink to the cupholder as the movie continues. No pair of eyes from the group could resist from being laser-focused on the screen.
The scene of the movie was shot inside a burning building, with the heroes gathered near the busted-down front doors, all except for the clearly absent Cindy. But from the other side of the large, wrecked lobby, Cindy sprints out of the hall in the left corner of the room into the sight of the others, desperately calling out for them.
She stumbles as she runs towards them past the trashed piles of paper blown off of the front counter at the back of the room. "Terrance!"
Terrance himself darts towards Cindy. "Cindy!"
A group of armed goons slide out of the hall into the room, followed by the notorious Open Wound, complete with the signature black eyepatch and large scar around his left eye.
"Lock n' load, boys," he announces before cocking his own decorated shotgun."We've found the caribou pack."
Cindy reaches the others just as the goons begin to open fire. The others flip the nearby tables forward and crouch down to shield themselves. The bullets scattering against the tables leave indents in their wake.
Ah yes, the all-too-familiar movie BS that RJ's amusement wasn't finding any surprising. "Heh. Sturdy tables."
"Well ain't that convenient," Stella comments.
A moment later, a faint image of orange zips right in front of Heather for an incomprehensibly short time, blowing a slight wind across her nose. Her face goes blank and her attention on the sight ahead breaks at the sudden movement. "Huh?"
RJ begins to reach his hand back over to the popcorn, softly singing to himself. "Can't get enough of that po-pcorn, keeps me goin' strong-" Once his hand enters the container, an abrupt interruption halts his carefree spirit and directs his confusion away from the TV to the popcorn, leaning over to it. "Wha-?"
Just at that time, Heather had peered her head down into the container as well, her disbelief matching RJ's. What's this? Empty. Nothing left but the unpopped kernels sitting at the bottom; not a single crumb left of the popped paradise. Their eyes slowly gravitate up towards each other before meeting the clear culprit at the top of the container.
Leaning his head back, RJ grows a teasing grin. "You sly 'possum, keeping all the goods to yourself, huh?"
Heather shoots her head back. How disrespectful to even consider the possibility! "What?! Hey, it wasn't me!"
1 finger held up, RJ sighs, "'Stage 1: Denial'"
"But it was full just a sec' ago!" she groans. "You think I, like, inhaled the thing?"
"Look sweetie," he jokes. "I don't got a problem with you gorging your face, just save some gorging for me next time, 'kay?" A single pat on the top of her head finalizes his judgement.
"But I didn't-!"
A loud snore from right in front of the chair brings them to abrupt silence. Slowly leaning forward, a sleepy Hammy lies in a bizarre position on his back in front of the string of lights just in front of their feet. The obvious remnants of the butter from the popcorn covering the area of his mouth bring surprised glances between the 2. Nothing like a classic case of sugar rush and caffeine.
"Well, well, well…" RJ grins. "Look who's been letting himself go on the stash of energy drinks."
Heather tilts her head back and forth, taunting his false accusations. "Hah-hah."
"Okay look, don't blame me for making reasonable assumptions. Who else is on the seat?"
As their childish ramblings carry on, the mixture of their intruding voices with the audio from the movie starts to tense up Stella's face.
"You," Heather snarkily states as the obvious answer.
With that blatant accusation, RJ backs up in his spot and throws his hands out back and forth in front of him. How disrespectful to even consider the possibility! "Woah woah woah, the king invited you onto the throne. He wouldn't disrespect a guest like that, would he?"
The argument is drawn further and further. "A guest? Dude, I'm always on the VIP seat. I'm practically, like, the queen-"
Finally, it all snaps. Stella had reached her last attempt at drowning out the obnoxious chatter coming from the pair. No more straws were left to be pulled. "Al-right," she bursts out, her threatening voice jerking RJ and Heather back to stillness. "Would you two blabblin' bozos keep it down? Suuum of us are tryin' to watch here!"
Tiger hastily comes to her comfort. "Be calm, my dear. They're simply enjoying their youth while it still lasts."
The introduction of his soothing voice brings Stella's flame down to embers. She turns to him, her chuckle filled with pleasant serenity. "Wut, and we're seniors or sumthin'?"
A large burst of orange and red fills the screen with a sudden bang, drawing back their attention. Ozzie, unblinking eyes fixated on the screen, jerks his upper body back for a split second. Every gunshot and explosion accompanying each second of violent action draws his consciousness further into the world of imaginative thought.
"Yuh good, Oz'?" Stella asks. "You're doin' that thing again."
Ozzie motions with his hands in response, his eyes remaining fixed on the gory display. "Oh, I'm… quite alright."
RJ and Heather have now lounged back after their event, left with nothing to stimulate their investment in the film other than each other. And any other nearby snacks, once they were ready to inevitably swerve onto the easy route once again.
"Kill count?" RJ simply asks Heather.
"Somethin' like 10 goons already."
"Hmm, promising."
All but 2 of the heroes, now gathered at the bottom of the steps outside the facility, turn in exhaustion to face the burning building of carnage that is to be left behind from their fight. They stare at the front doors in tense anticipation, as if waiting for the confirmation of their final comrades' success. The crackling and rumbling of the flames keeps total silence from overtaking the scene.
And what's this? A triumphant fanfare enters once Terrance and Cindy bolt out of the doors, their clothes torn and dirtied from the experience. Terrance skips the set of stairs at the entrance with one hefty leap, while Cindy hesitates at the top. Terrance quickly turns around and extends his arms up to her.
"Hop on, Cindy!" Terrance shouts in a rush.
With that, Cindy takes one last glance behind her before coming to her senses and hopping off the top step into Terrance's waiting arms, carrying her bridal style. Their smiles of relief unite before leaning in for a kiss.
No words come from either member of the 'VIP lounge'. And yet, their faces remain strictly consistent. Any second now…
At last, RJ mumbles to Heather with his eyes remaining on the screen. "So…" An unnecessarily long pause brings silence between them for a moment, leaving only the romantic instrumentals from the TV to provide any sort of accompaniment. Finally, his casual voice continues without a hint of awkwardness: "Think we should break out those Cheese Squares?"
Just the same, Heather's eyes refuse to move an inch. "Eh, why not."
Heather lazily tosses the empty popcorn cup up and behind the seat for them to deal with later. RJ stretches over to bring the wide red box of Cheese Squares on the ground to his right onto his lap before casually pulling open the cardboard flap on top and leans the box over to Heather. In unison, they begin to indulge in the backup they had prepared just in case they had managed to devour their way to the bottom of the popcorn. Well, Hammy had clearly taken that job.
Back at the Log, Verne yawns as he slogs over to the watch pinned in its designated spot on the bulletin board sitting up against a bush bordering the back side of the Log that faced the woods. Taking a single finger out, he pushes the button on the side of the watch that illuminates the contents within for a brief moment.
10:58
He gives a firm nod before turning towards the group's settlement at the TV set. Aside from Hammy's sleepy scene he had created, the others were intensely invested in the moving pictures displayed in front of them.
Stella throws her arms behind her head and turns to Tiger in comfort. "Y'know, nuthin's gonna beat this life."
Out of the corner of her eye, she catches a turtle approaching from the side of the set. "Allll-right, everybody!" he calls out, bringing her face to drop in annoyance.
"Almost nuthin'."
Verne stands beside the TV. "Let's clean it up, folks!" he claps. "Those saggy old eyes aren't gonna rest themselves!"
"Now c'mon, whose eyes are you callin' old 'n saggy?" Stella talks back from her spot. Verne's encouraging smile begins to lower, the rest of body remaining frozen in place.
RJ comes to Verne's support, sighing at the interruption yet complying nonetheless. "Welp, y'heard the man. His saggy eyes won't rest 'til we do. And y'know we don't wanna deal with saggy Verne eyes for tomorrow's heist."
The clearly saggy eyes of Verne's roll at RJ's speech.
While the scene settles down, Heather removes her attention from the TV to view Ozzie to the left, still entirely invested in his own mind. She sighs.
Ozzie remains quiet, blocking out any outside disturbances on whatever internal soliloquy had sparked in his sophisticated brain. Every moment was a chance to reflect, to visualize, to discuss. A single gear turns, and the others follow in its movement.
"But really, man?" Stella scolds. "We just started."
RJ shrugs. "When the turtle calls, the turtle calls."
Stella and Tiger turn to each other as RJ clicks off the TV and begins to pack up.
Stella sighs, "Well… we're gunna have tuh finish this thing ourselves sometime. None of this muss. No other fellas around."
"Just the two of us, my dear," Tiger romantically agrees. "Just us."
She reaches forward and places a hand on Tiger's hefty shoulder. "Sounds perfect."
The gap between their faces slowly closes into intense intimacy. "I couldn't agree more," Tiger smiles.
Heather moseys over to Ozzie, his face unfazed by the lack of wonderment from the dark screen that had completely transferred to his mind. Taking a second to observe, every inch of his countenance seemed to be numb with thought. She reaches over and tugs on his arm, rolling her eyes. "Snap out of it, dad. The TV's off."
Nothing but a stage play. Each luscious thought is full of color and meaning. Nothing should go for granted in the personal journey one can take-
Something pulling on his arm breaks him free from his realm. With that, his body loosens out to welcome him back to reality once again. That, and Heather's presence. He turns to his daughter.
"C'mon, dad, we gotta get to sleep," she urges him.
Ozzie stands up and stretches with no feeling of abnormality in his recent endeavor. "Of course. Best save the dreams for the dreams."
Verne points to Stella and Tiger one-by-one as they pass by. "Goodnight Stella. Tiger. We're up at sunrise," he reminds them.
Tiger halts in his place to address him. "Verne, we shall be ready to depart as soon as your honorable self calls for it!"
"Sounds like a plan."
Verne looks to Stella, who simply gives him a nod.
The opossums now take their turn leaving the TV set past Verne.
"You guys too," Verne informs. "Sunrise."
"Not a problem, Verne," Ozzie calmly replies.
As the opossums stroll off towards the Log, something clicks in Heather's mind just as she is about to enter, lighting up her face. She turns around to face RJ all the way back at the set. "Hey RJ, wanna chill with me-"
Ozzie sharply turns around, puts his hands on his hips, and smoothly clears his throat on cue in a routine fashion. As he glances to RJ following his action, the agitated look he gives Heather transfers over to RJ as well.
Heather glares back at Ozzie without turning her body, her eyes lowered in annoyance. "...Us… in the Log tonight?"
RJ calls out, "Yeah sure, be just a sec'!"
"Meet'cha there!"
The opossums go on their way into the Log, Ozzie's face now filling with a sense of intent on discussion as he leads Heather by his side. RJ retrieves his bag off the ground and starts to walk towards the pond a little ways in front of the TV set. However, he stops himself when he sees Hammy lying alone on the ground in front of the purple chair.
Should I move 'im? RJ ponders to himself. …Nah.
At the edge of the pond, RJ sits down and begins to stare upward at the moon looming over the suburban world on the other side of the Hedge in front of him, completely lost in thought. A slow but upbeat set of instrumentals begins to build in the background, the steady beat growing louder and louder.
He slowly shakes his head with a smile. "Oh man…"
Over the Hedge 2: Family of We
Now
Just another day to slave away-ay
(The nights fly by)
Down in the water, the reflection of a raccoon greets RJ with an identical grin.
Here
Doesn't take much to make me feel at a welcome pla-ace
(The nights fly by)
The Hedge was sitting just a short walk away to the side. RJ picks himself up and begins wandering through the open, grassy space between both locations towards the Hedge.
Oh, what a laugh
To think about that path
The times have changed with every step we ta-ake
The Hedge standing tall just before him, RJ's eyes make their way to the top edge of the leafy structure. He shoots his attention back down to the barricade just a foot in front of him. A barricade, huh?
A cheater
A leader
Don't matter no more to me-e
(So get ready for a whole new speeeed)
After a moment of hesitation and a proud sigh, RJ takes one step after another into the center of the Hedge. Inside, moonlight peeks its way through the miniscule spaces between the chunks of leaves to grant RJ all the support he needed to spot out his trajectory up the thin branches around him. With each beat of the song, his feet touch one branch after another.
Because ready or not
Here we come
Hold our heads up high
Yeah-ah, up to the skyyy
Shaking stray leaves off his head, he pops out of the top of the Hedge and sits himself down for a marvelous view of the array of lights radiating here and there from all across the human landscape, making the stars themselves feel useless to the setting. Everywhere, the bustle from the beyond makes itself apparent and distinct from whatever surrounding wilderness it had encroached on.
The sun goes down
And the world turns around
But still we're here to stay-ay
We've started anew
All of us here with you
Let the lights burn out and die
And the nights fly byyy
(And the nights fly)
(By-eyyy)
The beat now becomes catchier, incrementing itself twice as often. Near the Log, Verne examines the surrounding trinkets and decorations scattered all around the site. Aside from the usual, tense conversation sparked by the opossums from within the Log, Verne was left to his own self to reflect on the artifacts gathered with each successful heist.
Here
We got a-lot to do, now don't you see-e?
(The nights fly by)
He spots out the group's most impressive stack of food containers sitting against the brush in between the Log and the TV set, along with the porcupine family sound asleep just off to the side.
Now
We'll build a bridge to block that gap from you to me-e
(The nights fly by)
Moseying towards it, the colorful collection of delectable human snacks and produce towers before him, each container stacked higher and higher to make a pyramid.
You were a traitor we won't deny it
But those memories, we'll fight it
Just sit back and let us help you through
Right at the top, a single can of Spuddies stands high and proud above it all, overlooking the entirety of the scene around. The sight grows a small smile on Verne's face.
One wound left
Now healin'
We've never felt quite as free-e
(So come with us, we'll make a home you'll seeee)
Now scanning his head around the rest of the area, the TV set still makes the most magnificent presence - the hub of all the leisure items gathered. Just next to it, the blue cooler and red wagon rest side-by-side on the right of the purple seat. Something about it draws Verne deep into thought and intent.
Because ready or not
Here we come
Hold our heads up high
Yeah-ah, up to the skyyy
He makes his way over to the set once again and now observes the decorated playground they had made out of it more intimately.
The sun goes down
And the world turns around
But still we're here to stay-ay
We've started anew
All of us here with you
Let the lights burn out and die
And the nights fly by
Suddenly, a single small splash comes from the pond. Shooting his head over, RJ had just sat himself down at the edge on the opposite side facing Verne, fiddling the surface of the water with his foot and his head locked downward. With a single step forward, Verne begins to make his way over.
It'll all keep spinnin'
(Spinnin')
(Spinnin')
It'll all keep spinnin'
(Spinnin')
(Spinnin')
It'll all keep spinnin'
Let the lights burn out and die
And the nights fly byyyyy
Verne wanders over to him. "Hey… RJ?"
"Yeah?" RJ calls back from the pond, now alert enough to lift his head up towards him.
Verne continues to approach him. "Quite a day tomorrow."
"Heh, you can say that again." RJ gives him a grin of assessment, implying no real uncertainty in the question he was about to ask. "What time we leavin' again?"
While sitting himself down, Verne counts his fingers and begins calculating. "Just after 7:30, right? Those humans leave the house at 7, and those kids gotta be at school by 7:15."
Nothing in RJ's expression conveys any form of surprise in Verne's concerning level of commitment to his timekeeping skills. "Been wooing that watch as usual?"
He lets out 1 sarcastic "Hah" before transitioning his tone into something more solemn and anxious, as if he had been waiting for the right moment to discuss the topic. "But look, RJ… there's no easy way to say this…"
"Aw, finally built up the courage to admit those feelings for me, eh?"
Verne had never reacted quicker to a response. "What?!"
But RJ gives him no time to continue and keeps interjecting with his jest. "Wait, don't tell me you're cheatin' on that watch already."
The annoyance in Verne's voice strengthens. "RJ…"
By this point, RJ had recognized his own obnoxiousness. So what better option than to fully commit to the act. He laughs, "I gotta admit: it does have quite a nice minute hand-"
"RJ!" Verne barks. "No…" A single, exasperated chuckle exits his mouth. "No." Panning his arm around the settlement, he brings RJ's attention to the TV set and all the various doohickeys and thingamabobs he had led them to gather. "It's about this. And this. All of this."
"Yeah, what about it?" RJ nonchalantly asks.
"It's just…" Verne sighs. "It's all thanks to you."
RJ shakes his head at the apparent exaggeration. "C'mon, it was nothin'..."
"But that's the thing! It's not nothing! You're so used to this… crazy world over that hedge, but we had never taken a single step on concrete before any of this."
"They do love their concrete," RJ comments.
It was about time to get to the point. "So where would we be without this? Without you?"
Finally, Verne had driven him into thought. He observes the scene lying on the other side of the pond, complete with all the marks of his doing. Not just the TV set. All around, their several organized piles of food and goodies. The bulletin board housing several gadgets, maps, and other papers. The Log itself, completely decorated over with human influence. And several large, closed umbrellas positioned around the site's most critical points for weather protection. Quite the sight indeed, and they had only come so far because of him. All the while, Verne patiently awaits his ally's answer.
At last, RJ responds, "Well you'd still be runnin' around pickin' berries or whatever. And I'd still be a goddamn jerk so I'd say it's a win-win."
This brings a laugh to Verne as he shakes his head. "You don't even know what it was like leading alone. It was like being a parent…" His tone gets snarky. "A parent of 9."
The voices become quieter as their scene becomes more distant. All around the site, 2 worlds combined to form an innovative masterpiece that made the Hedge feel left without a purpose. Never a barrier, but a bridge. Beyond that bridge, a bustling land of opportunity, risk, and reward unseen to the other side.
"Guess I'm pickin' up the slack now, huh?"
"Hey, you wouldn't believe the nonsense I went through before you came here…" Verne starts.
Stella and Tiger had taken their posts in their own dedicated sleeping area a bit of ways away from the Log: a dark gray, sizably cave-like cat bed dimmed in the shade of the brush surrounding the area. A flap of thin soft material had been manually pinned above the entrance, concealing anything inside while also providing a dim yet sufficient level of light from the outside. Plenty of room for a skunk to do multiple things with a cat.
The two were lying against each other intimately inside the bed, their bodies casually pressed up against one another. A warm feeling of satisfaction radiated straight from any point of contact between them. The fur of Stella's naturally and confidently-grown bangs were brushed up against the side of Tiger's head, with Tiger's body itself showcasing the weight loss from his frequent source of activity with the Hedgies.
Tiger speaks softly. "Stella, the outdoors is quite a lot more… welcoming than I anticipated."
The forest? Welcoming? Something about that idea hits Stella in the gut. She mumbles, "Oh, it's not all cupcakes n' rainbows out here…"
"Whatever do you mean, my dear?" he puzzles with slight concern, now full of interest. "This is a paradise!"
Her head shakes steadily. "Wuzn't always like that."
Now attracting all of his curiosity, he fully turns his head to her. "Hmm?"
But now adopting a more careful approach, Stella digresses. "But man, that's all dun with." Sincerely and firmly, she states, "You're wut I've got now."
"No, Stella," he romantically contests. "I have you."
"That's all we need."
Both opossums sit inside the center of the Log, Heather leisurely leaning back against the wood with her limbs bent and spread out. Ozzie was facing her from the opposite side, displaying each of his vivid thoughts and opinions dramatically.
"DaAad, when are you gonna stop talking about that?" The clear exaggeration comes through in Heather's sentence: "It was, like, 1 time. And we had it all planned out." She pauses to consider for a second before mumbling, "Or at least, RJ did."
Plan or not, there were far too many humans in that place for my liking… Ozzie confirms his judgement to himself. He sighs, "And this is about RJ. 1 little slip with him and the entire avalanche could come raining down! We need to learn from even our most meager mistakes, otherwise they'll make way to something bigger." He pauses and leans closer to her, his hands now leaning down on his knees tensely. "Deadlier. Did you seejust how many of those humans were occupying that place, Heather?"
"Dad, it wasn't a 'mis-TaKe'. We got some food outta it," she makes light out of the memory with a shrug. "That Chinese place had some killernoodles. And Hammy really liked those weird stick thingies."
Ozzie's mental conversation continues, each new thought serving the sole purpose of confirming the words that had yet to escape his mouth into comprehension. Well, there won't be a use for the food if there's no one there to eat it. He shakes his head and puts a hand against his forehead. "Heather, Heather, Heather…"
Swift and harsh, she snarkily interjects, "I already know what you're gonna say, dad."
2 distinctly conflicting voices mangle their words together to create speech managing to be filled with both sincerity and sarcasm. "Stop worrying about the food and start worrying about you."
"Yeah yeah, I know, I know," Heather quickly continues her argument, leaving Ozzie no time to even think about beating her to it. "But we're not just, like, blazing into action! RJ's out there allll the time with Hammy just to map these things out."
"But all I'm saying is you've been so reckless with that-"
A raccoon's voice barges into the scene. "'Ayyyy, sorry for the wait," RJ announces his entrance, waltzing his way in from the open end of the Log. "That ol' reptile kept me a lot longer than he needed to.
Verne pulls away some thin branches of the bush partially shielding the opposite, darker end of the Log. "I heard that, RJ."
RJ cups his hands over his mouth and calls, "Good, 'cause you need to work on cutting down those monologues, man! Sheesh!"
Heather grows a smile as RJ approaches the opossums.
"Watch those tootsies," RJ says as he is about to step over their legs.
They pull their legs back as RJ passes over them and sits himself down a few inches from Heather on her left, removing his bag and placing it in front of him. RJ and Heather both give each other a friendly greeting grin. Verne had already settled down into his spot at the deep end of the Log, concealed in shade. RJ looks around to the others. Contrasting from Heather's comfort, Ozzie displays a state of slight tension around the raccoon.
RJ glances between them. "So, what's shakin'?"
A coordinated look comes from Heather. "Oh y'know, just gettin' to bed."
RJ points to Ozzie. "Hey Oz', don't forget. You and me tomorrow morning. Let's get some briefing on this thing."
Ozzie's response comes off soft yet firm. "RJ, I've been meaning to discuss some things about this…"
"Save the chewing out for tomorrow, pops," he sighs as if responding on cue.
Ozzie takes a yawn. "Right. It's about time for some shut eye."
"Join the club," RJ directs with a flick of his head.
Ozzie takes himself over to the other side and sits down on Heather's right, placing her in the middle. RJ and Heather turn their heads and make slight coordinated face gestures to get on the same page.
Heather turns back to Ozzie. "C'mon dad, y'know RJ's gotta be in the middle. It's like a sandwich. We're the bread, and he's like the…" Wait, what was the best way to finish off the analogy? It has her stumped. "Uh… somethin' like that."
Ozzie gives her an unsure look before grudgingly picking himself up. "Alright."
Ozzie makes his way around the pair until setting himself down against RJ's left side and turning his back towards him without hesitation, rotated onto his left side. He scooches himself into place with his back against RJ's side as Heather leans back against the Log and gets comfy on the opposite side of RJ.
"Night, 'Oz," RJ whispers.
Ozzie remains fixed in his position. "Goodnight."
RJ locks eyes with Heather to convey 2 small winks to her, speaking slightly louder when addressing her. "Night, Heather."
The gesture is returned in an identical volume, leaning her head forward to peer over to the opposite side of RJ. "Nighty-night."
A second of unnatural silence passes, leaving the air accompanying RJ on either side still.
Turning his head towards Heather's direction away from Ozzie, RJ settles back and shuts his eyes right along with the others. However, only 1 pair of eyes remains tightly closed for long.
As light snoring begins to emerge from Ozzie moments later, RJ and Heather carefully peek their half-closed eyes open. There Ozzie lay with their backs to them, not budging an inch. With the last remaining obstacle out of the way, they give each other smug grins before scooching a good bit away further down the Log back towards the entrance on the right.
RJ mutters, "Can play dead just as well as he can fall dead asleep."
Heather lets out a single, low-toned chuckle.
RJ sets the golf bag on his lap, leaning back against the solid wood of the Log. As he begins to reach his hand through the bag, Heather sits back into place to prepare for their heist planning. After a second, RJ's journal is pulled out of the bag, but the lack of any light source other than the dim atmosphere outside makes its contents impossible to see.
"Ah shoot…" he whispers.
A camping flashlight is pulled out of the bag after another round of fumbling. He kicks the bag off of his body and holds the journal open between their laps with one hand, aiming the warm light with the other. Heather lightly rests her sleepy head back against the Log as RJ flips to the page that maps out the house of tomorrow's heist. She folds her hands together in her lap.
"Aaand… here it is…" RJ concludes.
A comfortable smile grows on Heather's face as RJ begins to explain the map to his companion as if reading her a bedtime story. Was a bedtime story about planning their business entertaining? Probably not. But this was RJ doing the planning.
"A bit down southeast, just through the Hedge," RJ begins explaining. "Doesn't get easier than that." Taking the flashlight to the bottom of the page shows the Hedge that is drawn in green crayon. "So, we come in from the back…" He points the light at the yard, where several red circles are drawn around the area. "Make it past all those useless traps…"
Heather warmly chuckles.
"And we'll be in that place before we know it."
Heather leans her head forward, throwing out her questions in investment. "Any pets?"
"Nada."
"Humans?"
"Kids out for school, parents out for work. It's gonna be a breeze."
Heather leans back and fiddles a bit with her locked fingers. "We got anything new for our, y'know…"
At her typical inquiry, RJ chuckles deeply and points the flashlight at a highlighted yellow square drawn inside the house.
"See that? One of those kids always leaves a phone sitting in that very spot in the living room." He makes sure to turn his head to watch the outgoing spirit in her eyes alight. "So…"
The excitement is softly portrayed through her enthusiastic whisper. "Ooo-hoo, it's a free pick!"
"Aaand from the look of things, it's a newer model," he adds.
Heather exclaims in soft disbelief, "Woah, really? They've got another new one?"
Those magic devices of theirs just wouldn't stop flowing from whatever was capable of summoning such wondrous technology.
"Always do. We're never gonna run outta things to claim."
"How do those guys make so much of that stuff?"
The routine human lecture from the true expert begins. "They may be lazy bums, but where there's green, they're gonna convene. Remember how that stuff works?"
"Yeah, it hypnotizes their brains or whatever." She leans her head back and throws up a hand against her forehead, drained from the train of thought RJ had choo choo'd into her mind. "Ugh, I'm gettin' a headache again just, like, thinking about it, dude."
"Just trust me, they need that kinda motivation," he insists. "Strip all that shiny stuff away, and they're not gettin' any more done for their kind than we are."
RJ flips over to one of the last pages in the journal, where there are many small drawings of various technological devices such as phones, movie cases, and CDs, all drawn in either blue or purple pen. A whole collection of gizmos and gadgets, all conveniently documented in just a few notebook pages.
Without any need for further instruction, RJ hands her the flashlight and reaches forward back into his bag. He pulls out a blue pen and holds it near the page. "So, where're we puttin' that CD I picked up last week? We never logged that one."
Heather examines the page before enthusiastically leaning over RJ's shoulder to point at an empty spot. "Umm... Ooh!" A single finger makes a plop against the right side of the page next to a purple doodle. "How 'bout right there next to that gray CD player?"
The range of colors on the page restricted to blue and purple made no difference in their minds, their eyes no hesitation recognizing each little drawing as they were scanned across their sight. What's that blue one in the top right? Phone model from last January. Purple one in the middle? '06 lime CD player. An old classic, can't mistake it. A story told in each doodle; a small piece of a greater whole.
RJ grins at her selection. "Hmm, very fitting!" He draws a circle on the page next to the drawing of the CD player and precisely labels it in small font: 'I'll Meet You There - Owl City'
A sudden realization pops into Heather's mind. The fabrics of reality itself seem to blip out for a split second at her thought. "Wait a sec', isn't that one from, like, 2008?"
"Shh, we're not the ones who can ask those questions," he nonchalantly hushes.
"Ah, got it."
"Welp, we'll get a phone-sized spot ready on this page." He lazily slouches back in his spot. "Whew! We're gonna need another journal for this stuff."
RJ closes the journal and returns all of the items to his bag. Heather begins to yawn as they both lean back against the dark wood.
Heather's speech fills with yawning, her eyes starting to sag with the dark, sleepy mood surrounding the area as stimulation for her exhaustion. "Yeah… yeah."
RJ's yawn follows immediately afterward. "Feelin' sleepy?"
Her head turns to him. "I'm not the only one talkin'. Probably shouldn't be staying up on a night like this. Remember when we had to, like, skip an entire night for that heist at Tiger's old home last year? Jeez."
RJ chuckles. "Yeah, don't wanna wake up slow as Verne tomorrow. That's for the turtles, and the turtles only."
For a whole minute, no words are passed.
Last year… It brings Heather to change topic. "Hey... speaking of last year…"
"Hmm?"
RJ's bold yet lenient figure was just at her side, providing some odd level of comfort. Gentle, yet firm. But somehow, even with a form such as his, nothing seemed off beat. No missing space nor one unnecessarily occupied. A separation of the opossums, yet managing to blend in perfectly to the scene nonetheless.
At last, Heather continues, "You ever wonder what it would be like if... y'know, you didn't show up?"
Ah, those memories. It brews a mixed feeling inside of RJ. "Do you?" he questions with a lack of interest.
"Well… yeah!" she bluntly admits as if her answer should've been nothing but expected. "I mean, we wouldn't have, like, any of this stuff if it weren't for you. And we wouldn't have, well… you, y'know?"
There is a slight sign of visible regret on his face, and a tiny, hushed huff escaping his nose. "Y'know, last year… I'm never gonna let myself off for that stunt."
Heather starts, "Dude, but none of that matters now-"
"Yeah yeah, we already know where this conversation is going." he interrupts. "Let's just cut to the chase… I've got a family now."
The sincere smile from Heather grows. "I'm glad, RJ."
The irresistible sight of her smile, filled with such wholesome compassion, allows RJ's own face to readily give in. "Anywho, gotta get ready for that heist tomorrow," he concludes.
A slight bit of embarrassment enters Heather's tone. "Hey, before we chill… remember our 'motto'?"
"You love that thing, don't you?" RJ chuckles at the childish thought.
Childish? Sure. But Heather's speech urges the idea on more and more, softly pleading for that small bit of enjoyment. She begins to giggle awkwardly. "C'mon, don't make it a big deal again!" Barely audible, she mumbles, "It's just, like, a cute thing, y'know…"
"A cute thing?" he teases.
Throwing her head down in embarrassment, a high level of energy enters her whisper. "Goddammit, RJ! Y'know what I mean."
Finally, RJ gives in with a playful smile. "Alright…"
From the dark end of the Log, an eye of Verne's peeks open to the scene. He observes their sneaky act with a sense of familiarity and indifference. Not a single ounce of surprise compels his mind and body to react. Instead, he remains comfortably frozen in his place as RJ and Heather go about their usual shenanigans.
A finger on RJ's hand is gestured back and forth in a swinging motion. "We go in, we go out, but we...-"
The pair of voices unite. "Never leave without."
Pure, wholesome energy radiates from each of their faces, mingling into one. Yet Heather retains that reasonable level of embarrassment in the situation.
Verne subtly joins in on the playful satisfaction before closing his eyes and releasing a quiet sigh. Since the start of spring, he mutters in his mind.
They slowly scoot back over to Ozzie, his snores still putting on a show of their own. RJ resumes his previous position as Heather turns and lays back with her head resting on RJ's stomach as a pillow, her tail resting idle outward away from him. After wiggling their bodies around to get comfortable, RJ looks down to her.
Heather leans her head up to RJ, his sturdy upper body towering over her view. The moonlight from outside the Log peeked itself in just enough to illuminate the side of his face, reflecting a bit of light off the corner of his eyes. Her smile reaches up to him just as this reflection connects the sight of their eyes. "Nighty-night, RJ."
The friendly, innocent face lying below him fills the cool night air with something a bit warmer. "Sleep tight, 'possum pal. Big day tomorrow." The playful tone in his voice becomes stronger yet again. "And we've got a big special birthday comin' up for a certain someone this month…"
"Yeah yeah, stop it," she laughs. "It's embarrassing when you talk 'bout it."
"Doesn't change a thing. But if you say so…"
One last huff of amusement finalizes Heather's activity for the night.
RJ folds his arms behind his head and takes one last glance at Heather. There she lays with him as the comfort source, and no real hesitation on the matter. Both opossums, even Ozzie, keeping themselves in close proximity as if personal sleeping space was a thing of the past. Typical 'possums, RJ simply thinks. The final pair of eyes shuts at last.