Chapter 3

Mud Puddle

A few long days later, RJ groggily strolled through a thick patch of the forest, while Hammy indiscreetly tagged along with a carefree bounce to his step. Even with an overcast sky, the morning was unusually hot, even for mid summer. Had either of the two possessed sweat glands, they would have been drenched. The baking grass had grown stiff and brittle, as well as adopting a brown hue from lack of water; as they walked, it crinkled under their feet like a floor of old wrapping paper.

They had been walking aimlessly for around an hour, not talking to each other much at all. RJ was not even sure why Hammy was still there, as he seemed to be quite bored from the way he felt the need to stop and play with nearly every stray object left on the ground, as well as striking up a conversation with a rock that looked strangely like Simon Cowell. Unfortunately, it did not reply, but for a brief moment, Hammy was convinced that it had told him that he had less talent than a dung beetle with a broken wing.

On the other hand, RJ remained quiet, as he was too deep in thought to bother. The supposed lost twinkies remained at the front of his thoughts. He knew that he should have had them by then. Not only that, but a few more boxes could have easily been his. He even knew that he could have had them if he went on his own, but there was no chance he was going to let Duncan get by without replacing them. He thought of how delicious they must be with the extra cream filling. He imaged the sweet, golden treats having an erotic tango with his tongue. This gave way to thoughts of himself, fat and happy atop a mountain of twinkies, while the others fed and pampered him.

Of course that would never be if he was going to be forced to eat lettuce. That, along with other intolerable foods continued to worry him. Nearly everyone had begun to not only try them, but in some cases, enjoy them. Ozzie in particular had become quite the grass and carrot fan. Heather had begun to alternate her cheesy chips with berries. Verne, along with the porcupines, had returned to eating bark. Even Stella had taken up a salad once a day, and against his will, so had Tiger. That left one other that had yet to be ruined.

RJ glanced to his side to see that Hammy was still with him. He smiled inwardly, but continued to wear the scowl that accompanied his thoughts of recent events. As they walked, Hammy took a moment to rub at his eyes, and once he was finished, frantically waved his hands as he tried to catch the spots that appeared. A few minutes later, he admitted defeat, but not before letting the spots know that he would get them next time.

With his thoughts returning to Duncan, RJ stewed over how the others could give him so much attention. Why? RJ wondered. After all, they were his friends, not Duncan's. He had found them first. But no, it was as if he did not exist any longer. Apparently, whatever he did or had to say was not nearly as interesting as the ridiculous utterances made by the long eared, sausage shaped pest, who probably had fleas, and lice, and ticks. . .and dry skin. RJ honestly could not see any reason for the infatuation, and that angered him even further.

His mind was suddenly interrupted by a sharp pain in his palms. Wincing, he looked down to see that he had been digging his claws into them. A sliver of blood shone on his right. This he quickly licked up, not only to ease the pain, but to also hide the evidence before Hammy saw it. He did not need him to worry. Once he was clean, RJ stopped, and then dropped to his rump on the dry, grassy floor, directly beneath a shaded patch. Intense beams of heat continued to cut through the openings between the branches.

"I want more juice!" Hammy chirped as he sat. His tail wiggled, unintentionally bumping RJ in the cheek.

"Then we'll get some next time. Put it on our list," he said. He leaned forward so that his face rested in his hands. Wearily he rubbed around his faux mask and over his brow. Slowly, he spread the fingers on his left hand so that he could peep through them, looking over at Hammy. "Hey," he began. "Have you been listening to him?"

"Who?"

"Duncan," he replied quickly, still gazing through his fingers.

Hammy's eyes rolled upward as he thought. They made a leisurely arch away from RJ before traveling to the ground. Finally, he remembered. "Nope! Just like you told me!" he said while his tiny ears twitched happily.

"Good. So nothing at all?"

"Nothing!"

RJ let his fingers slide down his face as his hands came to rest on the ground, momentarily stretching his lower eyelids in the process. "Hmm, so you won't even listen to him if he offers you a cookie?"

"But RJ, you said he doesn't want me to have them," he said, an eye twitching with confusion.

"Ah hah!" RJ sat up straight with a proud smirk. His arms crossed under his chest. "He doesn't! I was just testing you."

"Oooh, okay!" he said with a toothy smile.

"And I knew you'd get it right!" RJ gave him a playful poke on the chest to emphasize his words.

"You did?" Hammy squeaked.

"Mmhm! Because I know how smart you are."

"Aww!" Hammy quickly scooted over to show his thanks with a hug.

Having all ready anticipated this, RJ held his breath beforehand, and once he was freed from the suffocating squeeze, his ears swiveled to a nearby thumping sound. It was very rapid, like chattering teeth. "Do you hear a woodpecker?"

It did not take long for Hammy to find the sound. "Yeah he's right there!" he said, pointing several trees in the distance. "And he's got big ears!"

"Birds don't have ears, Hammy," RJ said as he stood to check out the source of the sound. After a few steps, he squinted, and it became clear to him that what was assaulting the tree was in fact not a wood pecker, but something far more obnoxious. Glancing over his shoulder, he muttered to Hammy. "It's not a bird. That there is our favorite moron, and he's not doing anything to prove otherwise."

"Yay!"

"No Hammy, that's not a good thing, but come on." RJ motioned forward with his hand, and then trotted off toward the tree. As he drew closer, his pace became slower until his walk was more of a strut, complete with hands held behind his back.

Duncan was attached to the tree while he hastily gnawed away at the bark, only occasionally pausing to breathe. Exaggerated chomping sounds accompanied each bite, as though the noise was helping. He had all ready stripped a healthy amount of bark and showed no signs of slowing. Just to his right was a bare patch on the tree, about the size of a coffee cake.

RJ came to a stop and quirked a brow. "Duncan Donuts, what are you doing?"

Duncan pulled away from the tree to face him as he nose wiggled. "M tying t'mile m'teef."

"What?"

"You have to go a mile for beef!" Hammy asked, horrified. "Oh no! You poor rabbit!"

"Nu. M'teef." Duncan coughed, and then turned his head to spit a mouthful of bark onto the grass, just beside his feet. "My teeth! Oh RJ, they're driving me crazy! They're so long and they're itching me and I need to file them down now and this tree isn't helping too much but I don't know what else to do my human never gave me anything to chew I'm just trying to be like a beaver. But, you know, hakuna matata." He paused to catch his breath, and then sunk his teeth back into the tree like an apple.

It took a moment for RJ to respond. His brow wrinkled, and he glanced back at Hammy, partially in hopes that he had better understood the nonsense, and would thus say something first. "What was that? I do think all of that lettuce is making you crazy." He cleared his throat. "Crazier."

Duncan detached himself from the tree once more, this time spitting out a beetle that had managed to get to close to his mouth. "Sorry little guy!" he called to it as it stumbled away through the grass. "Now what I said. Um, what did I say?" he then asked with a nervous tapping of his foot.

"Kahuna tomato!" Hammy said, complete with an excited waving of his arms above his head.

RJ simply shot him a smirk. "Ew."

"Oh!" Duncan happily hopped as he remembered. "It's a little phrase I heard once. Hey, I know, let me teach it to you. It'll make you happy!"

"No," RJ said sourly. "Twinkies would make me happy. With extra filling."

"Oh just listen, okay? You don't need to be such a grumpy face. Hakuna matata." This he said slowly, giving emphasis to each syllable while his head bobbed in time.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, it means no worries. Say it with me. Hakuna matata."

"I don't think I will," RJ said, crossing his arms defiantly. "That has to be the dumbest thing you've said. Where did you get such nonsense?"

"Oh." Duncan nearly laughed as he slapped at his knee. "I heard it in a movie, and it was really sad. It had these lions and one died and one was really cute and then there was this fat pig thing."

"So you were in it?"

"No no! I only watched it. You don't understand."

"Never mind, Hostess."

"RJ!" Hammy suddenly interjected as he grabbed the raccoon's arm tightly and trembled. "What's a movie? It sounds scary."

"It's not scary, Hammy," he said as he firmly grabbed the hand and slid it off his arm. "Unless it was by Ron Howard. Then it's scary. But normally a movie is-"

"Oh, wait wait! Let me guess. I think I know!" Hammy said, his eyes zipping from side to side as he thought. "Movie, movie, moo, move. Move! Hey, isn't that when you put fire ants in Verne's shell?

"No, Hammy, that's called comedy," RJ said with a grin.

"Oh, okay!" he said, nodding.

Duncan had become still. His jaw hung agape in disbelief. "You did that!" he squeaked.

"Oh yeah. It's the only way to get him to dance really," RJ said with indifference. He clicked his claws together on one hand as he spoke.

"That's terrible."

"I'll say!" Hammy added. "Verne is a bad dancer!"

"And he has a mildew problem."

"You two are really mean," Duncan said quietly. "I'm beginning to wonder if I really want to be your friend."

"Well, go get my twinkies, and you won't have to worry about it!" Suddenly, he remembered something from the other day. "I don't want to have to show those wild dogs where you are. You know I'll do it too, because I'm a bad raccoon. I'm so bad."

"Oh no!" Duncan yelped. He began to gnaw on his fingers from nerves. "I forgot about them. Don't tell them, please!"

"Okay then, Pop N Fresh, you know what you have to do. Don't disappoint me."

Duncan was about to respond when he felt a water droplet land on his shoulder. He glanced upward as another splashed on his nose, followed by yet another. Soon they had accelerated into a full rain, much to the relief of the plant life, but not so much to him. Duncan's eyes opened widely as his fur was quickly soaked. Without a word, he dashed away until he was out of sight.

"Wait! Come back!" Hammy called after him. "Don't be afraid! It's just the sky peeing on you!"

A short while later, the rain was still pouring in full force. Duncan huddled in the log, just near the exit, while Stella and Tiger slept beside him; the big cat's snoring was like an echo to the distant rumbling of thunder. Tilting his head from side to side, and even attempting to stand upside down once, he did his best to get the water out of his ears, with little luck. He tightly wrapped his arms around his chest, looking downward at his feet while he shivered. It was more so from being frightened than cold. He hated storms. He always had.

Out the corner of his right eye, he saw Verne sitting outside in the rain as he enjoyed the chance for a wash. The turtle was sitting, with his feet pressed together, and hands on his knees. His eyes were peacefully closed. Rain bounced off the back of his shell, creating a hallow pitter patter, much like on a ceramic pot. The water that remained flowed through the channels between the plates, finally dribbling onto the grass past his tail.

"How can you sit out there?" Duncan asked him. His voice cracked as he tried to raise it enough to be heard through the rain.

Verne's eyelids resembled an old garage door as they sluggishly opened. "It's relaxing," he said, and then while pointing at the shell, added sheepishly, "And I need to keep this thing clean. It mildews."

"That's what RJ says."

"That doesn't surprise me," Verne said with a bit of a cough. "He's good at pointing out our faults."

"He keeps calling me a sausage."

Verne had to bite his tongue not to laugh. While a bit cruel, the resemblance could not be denied. "You shouldn't let it bother you. Keep in mind he only does it to make up for his own shortcomings."

"He's really mean. I try to be nice and helpful and he just won't like me.. I don't understand," Duncan said with a wild gesturing of his arms. "I'm no more than garbage to him."

"I think if you were garbage he'd be your best friend," Verne said matter-of-factly.

"You know what I mean!" Duncan thumped a fist against the bottom of the log. "I've tried to help him cheer up, and I've offered him some nice healthy foods, and I've been as nice as I can, but he won't stop acting like I'm some terrible rabbit. What's wrong?"

Verne sighed as he gradually made his way back into the log. He sat so that he could face Duncan. "The first thing you need to understand about RJ is that he is not going to eat anything like that. Stop trying to make him. That is part of why he resents you, really.

"But he needs it!" he said with a frustrated scratch to his voice.

"Duncan, he's stubborn. Very stubborn. Don't ask him anymore. You can't expect to change him. This isn't a movie. Life doesn't work that way."

"I, I guess so." Duncan wrinkled his nose as he looked at his feet. He had trouble believing it, and was about to protest, but then changed his mind. "What else?"

"I know he's still mad at you because he couldn't get the twinkies. That's another problem."

"But I didn't do it!"

Verne shrugged as he rested against the inside of the log. His eyes came close to lidding again. "Like I said, he's stubborn. He's convinced that it's your fault. Nothing will change between you two until you get them. Maybe if you can do that he'll finally be your friend."

"I promised him I would, but I don't know how," Duncan said with a helpless squeak.

Verne hummed to himself as he thought about a way to help. Unfortunately he had little idea. "When the rain stops, I'll ask Ozzie to help you," he finally said. "He's become quite good on food raids, so I'm sure he can help you do this. Until then, think of something nice to do for RJ."

"I thought you said to stop that."

"Do something nice that he would like, not that you think he would need."

"Oh." Duncan glanced at his feet again, his arms tightly hugging his damp chest as the thundering rain battered the log.

The storm continued until the late afternoon. Even after it had finished, rain continued to drip from the branches, and a heavy shower would occasionally occur as a gust of wind disturbed them. The ground had grown soggy, but it was a much welcome change from the brittle, dry earth that they had experienced the previous few weeks. Another welcomed result of the storm was that the air was, at least for the moment, much cooler.

Meanwhile, Duncan paced around in a circle, looking at something below him. He smiled, happily humming to himself while rubbing his hands together. He paused to think, still staring downward. After a minute of intense concentration, he decided that no, everything was perfect. "This will do!" he said with the biggest smile he had had in a while. "RJ has to like this!"

All he could do was wait, which he did. Duncan crossed his arms behind his back and rocked back and forth while keeping his eyes forward. An equally cheerful bird fluttered by, whistling a little song that was echoed moments later by a second bird. Fortunately, he did not have to wait too long, as RJ was seen strolling by with a bag of cheese flavored chips in his hand.

"Hey RJ! Come here! Look what I have for you!" Duncan called. He nearly toppled over from excitement.

A groan was heard, but then RJ actually smiled and hurried up to him. "What? Did you get them!" The bag in his hand crinkled as he looked around, peeking on either side of Duncan and frantically sniffing the air. He was salivating so much that the grass around him was further dampening from drool. "Where are they!"

"The what?"

"Twinkies! Did you get them?"

"Oh, no, not yet. But I made something for you. Look!" Duncan turned and pointed at the ground.

RJ looked down, but was baffled as he saw nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly no treats. "Huh? Congratulations my little snack cake, you found a muddy hole in the ground. Thanks for getting me excited for nothing," he grumbled.

"No it's not that! It's a swimming pool! I made it for you because I heard you like to swim." He waved a jittery, muddy paw at the ground again.

"That's just a mud puddle," RJ said flatly, and then crammed a hand full of chips into his mouth.

Crunch.

Yelp!

Splash.

Too stunned to move for a moment, Duncan pulled himself out of the puddle when he finally felt that he was suffocating. He shook the water off his face, and tried in vain to brush the mud off his chest with his all ready muddy hands. Breathing heavily, he watched RJ disappear into the distance with his ringed tail proudly swishing behind him. After blowing a bit of water out of his nose, Duncan looked down at the puddle and began to whimper, while he was teased with mock sounds of dog barks fading along with his new enemy.