THREE
"Where's hammer?" Half spoke to the silence engulfing the attic. He tumbled over piles of boxes, knocking over the crates. In his wake he left a path of destruction.
His beloved hammer was gone!
Sobbing, he tore at a shredded curtain. He needed his hammer! Without his hammer, he was nothing, nothing but a Speck.
Speck. That was his former name, the name he detested. He was Half, now, not Speck. Never Speck.
In the driveway below, a horn honked. The blare rattled Half's poor, warped brain.
"Visitors?" Half guessed. Curious, he skittered to a window. In the driveway below, a strange, shiny vehicle was parked. A woman was getting out of the vehicle. She was followed by three children.
"Children." Half snarled. He disliked children. Children were loud, ungrateful beasts. They always harmed Half. Children were bad.
Distressed, Half gnawed on his lip. He watched, mortified, as his master went out to meet the woman and her kids. He watched, helplessly, as his privacy was invaded.
"So Dave's away on a business trip?" Talbot helped Miss. Hotch carry Alvin's luggage into the house. The babysitter nodded.
"He left in the middle of the week," she remembered. "He's off to make that record deal of his." Talbot nodded in understanding.
"Yes, Alvin has told me about that. He's told me a lot of things," he admitted, not appearing privileged.
Miss. Hotch laughed. "Oh, yes, he's quite a talker!" she agreed. "He talks me to death sometimes…Oh, this is a lovely house!" Standing in the manor' main room, she gaped at the building's high ceiling and wide walls. Her mouth agape, she allowed Talbot to carry the boys' luggage away.
The boys themselves were already exploring the house. At the moment, Alvin was leading his brothers toward the attic.
"Guys, maybe we shouldn't be here!" Theodore whispered. He winced as his feet touched a creaky step.
"Oh, Theodore, you worry too much!" Alvin chuckled. He led his brothers forward. Up ahead, he could dimly see the hatch that concealed the attic. Queasy with excitement, he started to move faster.
"Slow down, Alvin!" Simon, dragging Theodore along, barely caught up with his brother. "Theodore could still have a –"
"Be quiet! I hear something up there!" Alvin hissed. He pointed upwards. The latch was just above his head.
Theodore was quaking. "I hear something, too! It sounds like claws…"
"Oh, please…Alvin, what are you doing?!" Simon lunged for his brother, who leaped to pull the rope dangling from the hatch.
"Simon, watch out!" Theodore's warning was lost over the clanging hatch, which brought forth a ladder.
"Come on!" Alvin, gripping the ladder, hurriedly scrambled up it. He disappeared.
"Alvin! Are you okay –" Theodore fell silent. Simon hushed him.
"Come on. Be quiet," he urged, taking his brother's hand. Together the two chipmunks treaded suspiciously into Half's liar.
"Who are you?" Half hissed, confronting Alvin.
"My name's Alvin. What's yours?" Alvin was unperturbed.
"Half! It's always been Half!"
"Okay! Okay!" Alvin held his palms out. "Want to be friends?"
Half, threatened by Alvin's outlandish presence, sneered. "Us friends?"
Alvin nodded. "Yes! We'll be great friends! I'll take care of you, with my brother's help! Maybe if we help you, you want have to eat Talbot's fingers anymore!"
Half scrunched up his face. "Master's fingers yucky. Half don't like them."
"That solves it then!" Alvin grinned, not feeling intimidated by Half at all. "You can come and stay with us! We'll have a great time!"
Half snorted. "Half doubts it. Half changes."
"What do you change into?" Alvin questioned, suspecting the answer.
"Wolfmunk. Half wolfmunk."
"I was afraid of that." Alvin sighed. All along, Half had been the chipmunk who'd originally bit Talbot, thus turning him into the wolfman. "So who bit you?"
"Half not remember. Half old. Half been far. Time for Half to leave."
"You're leaving?" Alvin was incredulous. "Why?"
"Half tired. Let Half leave!"
Half, bowling into Alvin, sent the red-clad chipmunk roughly to the ground. Alvin squealed and squirmed as Half clawed his face in a brutal attempt to get out the door, which was being blocked by Simon and Theodore.
"Get off him!" Theodore shouted. He swung blindly at Half, who fled, confused. Alvin, flailing, weakly raised his burning head. He watched, helplessly, as Half soared through the window.
"Why hasn't he done that before now?" Simon, bending down, propped Alvin atop his knees. His question went unanswered.
"I'm terribly sorry about this, Alvin," Talbot apologized. He felt terrible about what Half had done.
"Don't worry about me, Talbot!" Alvin fingered with one of his scars. "These battle wounds will make me popular with the ladies!" He lowered his hand. "Say, why didn't you tell me Half bit you first?"
Talbot lowered his gaze. "I hoped…I hoped you could change him…so we wouldn't have to worry about him being a werewolf…" He grasped Alvin's hand.
"Hey, your fingers look better!" Alvin noticed. Talbot spread out his healing hand.
"Why, you're right! They do look better than before…But Alvin, I think you should go home," he suggested.
"Why? I just got here!" Alvin protested, exasperated. He sadly glanced around the ancient restroom, imagining all of the hidden spaces he had yet to explore.
Talbot carefully lowered Alvin down from the sink. "Haven't you already been punished enough?" the principal asked. He took hold of Alvin's hand and led the chipmunk out of the bathroom.
Alvin paused thoughtfully. "I guess your right," he decided.
"Oh, Alvin, you poor dear!" Miss. Hotch gasped. She frantically grabbed for Alvin at the very moment he and Talbot entered the living room. "Your poor face!" She clutched at Alvin's arm.
"I'll be fine, Miss. Hotch, really!" Alvin assured her. "It just a couple of scrapes…The girls will be all over me now!"
Miss. Hotch wearily shook her head of dark, bouncy curls. "Boys, boys…" She dragged Alvin toward the door. "I hate to leave so soon, Talbot, but if anything else happens to Dave's boys…I'll be fired!"
"Perfectly understandable, Miss. Hotch, but I'm sure Dave will be reasonable." Talbot gently pressed Alvin out the door. Simon and Theodore abruptly appeared behind the principal.
"Well, it was nice seeing you again Mr. Talbot," Simon grunted, simultaneously gripping Alvin's luggage and leading Theodore. Heading after Miss. Hotch, he added, "Maybe we could come over again sometime." He waved at Mr. Talbot before dashing out the door.
"Maybe," Talbot whispered once the door had closed behind his departing visitors. Strangely, for the first time in years, he felt at peace.
Alvin's prediction about his popularity proved to be precise. The following week, Alvin's fame rose. The girls were doting on him, the boys envied him. Even Jack's gang respected the chipmunk's wishes.
Alvin, his sprits elated, decided to throw a party. A majority of his classmates were invited. The Chipettes came without an invitation. For awhile, the party was a huge success.
Unfortunately, Dave drove home after receiving a frantic call from Miss. Hotch. Fearing for her safety, the petrified babysitter had locked herself away in the basement. She refused to come out.
Dave, ever the harried father, stumbled over himself. Sprawled out over the doorway, he wailed over the blasting rock music that shook his house.
"ALVINNNNNNN!"
Dave's distressed cry floated down into the basement. Quaking in a corner, Miss. Hotch raised her head. She smiled shakily. Poor Dave, she thought. Alvin always gets the best of him.
Footsteps thundered upstairs. Kids squealed. Imagining the chaos exploding above her head, Miss. Hotch silently preyed. Deep in meditation, her thoughts strayed. She was surprised when her mind turned to Mr. Talbot.
Talbot. Now there was a strange man. Unexpectedly charming her, he composed his outlandish stature with calm, commanding dignity. She wasn't intimidated by him at all.
Unsurprised, she wrinkled her nose. It was awfully dusty in here, and smelly. Dave needed to put his boys to work.
Shifting her butt intolerantly across the floor, she gawked at the door, waiting for Dave. He would definitely be here shortly.
"Alvin! What is the meaning of this?" Dave intercepted Alvin. He planted himself firmly in the chipmunk's path. "Where's Miss. Hotch?"
Alvin scornfully glanced sideways. "She's in the basement…And I just wanted to have a party! What's wrong with that?"
Dave raised his voice. "Well, for one thing, you terrified Miss. Hotch!" He roughly gestured at the living room clutter. "And look at this mess your friends made! You're going to clean it all up!"
"Whatever! I'll do it later!" Alvin snapped. When he turned to leave, Dave held him back with a sturdy hand.
"First you'll apologize to Miss. Hotch. Then you'll clean up this mess!" Dave meant business.
Half fled the town. Unable to glance back over his shoulder, he kept his gaze straight ahead. Returning to the countryside, he kneeled over a mounting hill and sobbed. He missed his hammer. His lovely hammer. He would have to back for it.
He waited until nightfall.
Alone in the darkened house, Talbot attentively faced the fireplace. Lounged in his large, antique chair, he gripped Half's hammer, awaiting the chipmunk's return.
It was a traditional, stormy night outside. Talbot's ancient bones were aching. He sat very still, listening to the storm. He remained motionless even as the door creaked open seconds later.
"Come in, Half." Talbot's wearied tone was soft. "I have what you came for."
"You have hammer?" Half shambled swiftly up to Talbot's chair. "Can Half have hammer?"
Talbot slowly extended the hammer out to Half. "It's yours. Off you go."
Half became suspicious. "Master mad?"
Talbot shook his head. "No. You can leave. Farewell, Half." He waved Half toward the door.
"Farewell, master." Half cautiously shuffled backwards. "Half be good."
"Very well, Half." Talbot spoke conclusively. Listening to Half's departing footsteps, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
"I'm sorry, Miss Hotch. Forgive me?" Alvin lovingly wrapped himself around Miss. Hotch's arm, which was swinging wildly out the door.
Miss. Hotch chuckled nervously. "I forgive you, Alvin. After all, boys will be boys." With Dave's help, she heaved her luggage toward her car. "Poor little old me just can't handle all of the noise!"
"I'm terribly sorry, Miss. Hotch. Have a nice trip!" Dave eased Miss. Hotch into the driver's seat. Pulling Alvin away from the anxious babysitter's arm, he hoisted the puckish chipmunk onto his shoulder.
"Yeah! Have a nice trip! Alvin echoed cheerfully. He disregarded Dave's derisive glare. For him, the new week's eventful commencement ended abruptly and the tough chores began. Life was just peachy.
Yeah, right, Alvin thought. He winked deviously. Wait until Dave finds that present I left him in his bed…
THE END