Chapter 4

Night Walk

Like a missile, Duncan sprung from his sleep, coming dangerously close to hitting his head on the top of the log. In fact, his ears cleanly grazed it, causing plenty of irritation that he had to scratch once he had landed. A hand gripped his heaving chest while his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness within the log. Little moonlight ever made it inside, and so he was left with the subdued glow at each end. Finally, he began to make out a few sleeping forms. All was normal. However, this realization did not calm his breathing immediately.

The first nightmare he had had in a long time remained with him, clawing, scratching, burning into his mind with the intensity of an angry fire ant swarm. But, it was only that: a nightmare. He continued to tremble as he thought of it, and did his best to take deep breaths, as he had seen on an infomercial once for yoga videos. After checking to make sure he was still in one piece, he held out his arms, rocking from side to side for a moment to feel if anything was there. There was only air.

Once finished, Duncan sighed in relief. He was not confined. He wanted to run outside and prance around the log, but images of the dream crushed the courage he had to do so.

Eventually his eyes had adjusted. A few steps before him was the porcupine family, with Verne just past them, sandwiched on the other side by Tiger, Stella, and then Hammy, who was curled up on RJ's chest. He wanted to speak to one of them about what had happened, but felt too guilty about waking them. Waking RJ in particular was definitely out of the question. The thought frightened him almost as much as the dream. Instead, he backed out into the grass, clinging to the entrance with a grip that made his hand ache. He had no fantasies of being able to get back to sleep then, and did not want to remain there in case he was a disturbance.

Once outside, his all ready alert senses began to work overtime. His ears burned as they stood at attention, anticipating the snarls of hungry dogs approaching. He could feel his legs aching with the desire to run for his life. He was not even sure if he could, as he had never had to run before, but the urge was there, and was slowly becoming overwhelming. His eyes jumped from tree to tree. Nothing was there, at least not that he could see. No scents, and no sounds out of the ordinary were there.

Along with the sounds of dogs, he kept his ears alert for human voices, in case his owners were looking for him. It was a fear that had resurfaced just then as he recalled being tossed back into his cage by the spoiled human girl. He could not shake the tight bars from his dream. They closed in tightly, suffocating, chilling him with a lifetime of living in confinement. He felt so small, so insignificant in there, and then outside stood RJ, five feet tall and mocking him while he munched a twinkie that dripped cream onto the grass.

The one use for the cage was protection from the outside world, but even then it did not save him from the insults that effortlessly permeated the metal sanctuary. He heard them all, over and over until his head throbbed with the raccoon's laughter. He tried to curl up and cover his ears, but his hands suddenly became lame, useless as a punctured balloon. "Go away!" he tried to scream as his last method of defense, but the words would not come. His voice had all ready fled.

Sausage. Cupcake. Jelly Roll. Tons-of-Fun.

He had heard them all and more. At one point, Hammy zipped by and said that he "never sau-sage a rabbit", complete with a wild laugh, and encouragement from RJ. Duncan snapped out of his thoughts, sucking in his gut without even realizing it. He gave a glance back into the log as he shook his head sadly. Fatigue was coming to him again, but he could not go in there yet, not with his tormentor so close. He was more prepared to face hungry dogs than more insults. At least he could try to run from those.

With timid steps, Duncan eased away from the log. Once his hand left the bark, he suddenly felt alone and vulnerable, as though the entire forest was watching him. With a frightened gasp, he dashed to the nearest tree, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He tightly hugged the trunk, and then closed his eyes tightly.

He wondered what he would do in the morning. He knew what he had to do. How was still another matter. The only place he knew of that might have the twinkies was his old home, and he feared what would happen if he went back in the house. Part of his nightmare coming true was almost a certainty, and if it did, he did not trust that he would ever be rescued a second time. However, there seemed to be no other way to get them. He thought about how Ozzie was supposed to help, but he could not wait much longer. He did not even know if Verne had spoken to him about it yet.

Even without the need to end the bullying, a part of Duncan still wanted to impress RJ. He could not figure out why, but he looked up to him, and wanted to gain his respect. Perhaps it was because he saw him as his savior and still had admiration for him because of it. Or, maybe it was because RJ often seemed to be the head of the family, and if he was going to ever feel like part of it, he would need his acceptance. Whatever it was, he could not settle on a reason, and wondered if it was a combination of many other things. Regardless, he had to make it up to him before the tension between the two grew even worse.

Duncan wearily shook his head. His eyes remained closed as he held onto the tree, giving it a hug that comforted him slightly. He wished that it could hug in return. After a few somber breaths, he slowly opened his eyes and let them travel up the tree until his neck began to hurt from bending back so sharply. The branches above remained completely still. Not a breeze stirred that night. However, water still coated the trees, which he was reminded of when a droplet of water splashed between his eyes.

Wincing, Duncan wiped the water off of his fur, and then noticed something else that he had not seen before. A series of characters was carved into the bark, and surrounded by a crudely etched oval. Had he been able to read, he would have known that they said: "Mildude haz shell odor."

Finally, he pulled away from the tree. He slowly turned his head to face the log, but then quickly turned away, staring aimlessly ahead into the darkness with a nearly inaudible whimper. It was not time.

The girl's voice crept back to him. "There's Dunny Bunny!" came its sour whine as she picked up the cage from the grass, thereby rescuing him from the giant form of RJ. His surroundings flashed by in a blur of colors: greens, blues, and whites that swirled together like a tie-dyed shirt pattern. The cage was carelessly tossed back onto the TV stand, and as a result, he slipped and bumped his head against one of the bars. As he rubbed the bruise, he saw the girl's face hovering before him with a scolding gaze around her upturned nose. "Bad Dunny! You better not leave again!" she said through a hole in her face where a missing baby tooth had yet to be replaced. Her breath carried the scent of bologna and a strawberry fruit drink that had been eaten hours ago.

Quick, shallow breaths accompanied the thought. His teeth began to chatter as he tried to control it, and the chattering spread all the way to his feet as they began to thump the ground. But as he stood under the soft moonlight, he knew that he would have to return to her to set things right.

His breath was cut short from a sudden growl. Duncan yelped and flattened himself against the tree as he looked around for the predator. However, the predator was from within. He was hungry. Very hungry. So much he would have given to be able to eat like RJ again, but the vegetables and berries were good for him. They would help him lose his unsettling paunch that gracelessly rubbed against his thighs whenever he walked. Yes, his new diet was the right thing to do. It would help him. Thin was beautiful after all, as he had learned from TV. The more ribs showing, the better.

There would be no more sausage jokes either.

Duncan thought he felt another drop of water from the tree, but quickly noticed that it was his mouth watering instead as he thought about devouring an extra thick ice cream sandwich. He wiped a paw over his mouth, and then shook his head to remove the impure thought. It did little to help. The cool, creamy, chocolaty treat lead a junk food parade in his mind. It was soon followed by cheesy puffs, coconut cookies, and a trio of Spuddies cans that did flips and other tricks for him as they begged to be eaten.

In frustration, he clawed at his cheeks. "No!" he said, stomping his foot into the still damp soil. "I am not a junk food rabbit!"

His words evaporated into silence as the various treats disappeared into puffs of colored smoke.

Glancing back at the log once more, he felt his eyes fighting to close. They watered from fatigue, dampening like the grass below. The tears blurred his vision as though glancing through a waterfall. These he blinked away, but felt his eyes trying to close again, more adamantly this time. He yawned and finally gave in to his desire to sleep. The fears remained, but were less paralyzing than when he woke.

It was time.