Not even aware that he was re-experiencing something that had happened to him ages ago, RJ hurried to keep up with his parents. He had just about overtaken them and was now in a thicket only several feet away. Here he could hear their voices much more clearly, and the raccoon's ears strained as he caught the last of their conversation.
"—says nothing's changed," Tim was muttering to his wife seriously. "We're expected to produce the same results."
"Tim, have you seen it?" hissed RJ's mother, her voice almost hysterical. "It's getting smaller and smaller every year. Pretty soon there won't be any results to produce, not if the humans —"
A twig snapped under RJ's foot and he cringed; his parents suddenly stopped talking. RJ could tell from the rustling noises ahead of him that they were looking behind them. The young raccoon held his breath and prayed that they won't come investigating ... then his parents must have decided that it was just the wind because they resumed walking, and began discussing their situation again.
RJ exhaled. That had been way too close. If he was going to find out the truth about their situation, he needed to be much more aware of himself. Shaking his head, he set off again, being extra careful this time not to make the slightest sound.
The night around the three raccoons was quiet, save for the odd chirp of a cricket or hooting of a forest owl. A breeze rustled through the trees, stirring the leaves and branches, and RJ shivered. Hopefully they would be heading back soon; it was uncomfortable to sleep in the tree but at least it was warm in their makeshift beds. Before he could concentrate too much on getting cold, however, his parents stopped — and, still careful not to make any noise, RJ crouched under a bush and waited.
He could just see them through the leaves: they had set the bucket back down and were looking around anxiously, as if they were waiting for someone. The full moon shone down on them, creating a ghostly light; Jill turned around and gasped in shock until she realized it was her own shadow she was looking out. Willing herself to calm down, Jill took several deep breaths, and Tim wrapped his arms around her for comfort.
Nothing happened for perhaps two minutes. RJ was growing acutely uncomfortable under the bush; his legs were cramping and he longed to stand up and stretch. He was just about to give up and head back to the tree when —
"Well, well, well," rumbled a deep, chuckling voice, and Tim and Jill whirled around. Behind them, RJ gasped and instinctively clamped a hand over his mouth; he had never heard a voice like that before. It was cold, icy, and haunting — a voice of darkness and nightmares. Whoever owned this voice had reared up behind Tim and Jill, its shadow huge and menacing. Jill clutched Tim closer to her.
"Vincent," said RJ's father. His voice was calm, but shook slightly. He regarded the shadow, which was several times taller than he and Jill both were, with a look of composure, despite the ominous, huffy breath that emerged from it and left foggy clouds in the cold night air.
"Who else?" came the voice of this Vincent, and the shadow took a step forward, gradually emerging into the moonlight. RJ gasped again behind his hand: A bear. His parents were dealing with a full-grown, towering, nightmarish black bear. Vincent smiled at them, though there was no happiness behind it. It was a leer, a mocking smile, like he was about to trick them. Which he probably was.
"You have it? The food?" he asked them simply, still with that evil smile, and watched Tim and Jill as they set down the bucket in front of him. Both raccoons were shivering — RJ tried to convince himself it was because of the cold night, but he knew better. Vincent stepped forward to take the bucket and Tim and Jill hastily retreated back a few feet, trying to keep a safe distance.
The bear dug through the bucket of food for awhile, occasionally popping out something to munch on, but suddenly he slammed it down again. The smile was gone from his face, to be replaced with a sneer of disgust. "Is this it?" he snorted. "Nothing more?"
Jill and Tim exchanged panicked looks. "Um — n-nothing more," Jill stammered.
"This is less than half of what I expected!" the bear snarled, standing up in a rage; he smacked the bucket with a paw and it flew aside, the food scattering everywhere. "You two simpletons should know that you have to do better!"
"If we know anything, it's that you shouldn't feel like you're entitled to any of this!" Tim burst out suddenly, to Jill's shock.
A deathly silence fell over the clearing. Vincent was staring at the two raccoons, breathing hard, while Jill had a look of utter terror on her face. Tim looked like he was beginning to regret his choice of words; he averted his gaze from the bear and bit his tongue nervously, still shivering.
"Do we have to go over this again?" Vincent began, in a deadly whisper. "Of course I am entitled to this. And furthermore, I am entitled to much, much more than this."
Vincent reared down so that he and RJ's father were eye to eye. "You, Tim, stole from my stash of food years ago. You thought I wouldn't notice, but I did. And do you know how I noticed?"
The bear raised his head again and sat down on his haunches, the evil sneer back on his face. "Because after you made off with part of the stash, the other forest animals saw what you did and got cocky. They all stole from me. All of my food was gone when I woke up from hibernation." He chuckled evilly, sending shivers down RJ's spine. "And when I tracked you down, the only reason I kept you alive is because you promised to pay me back like this."
"I wasn't encouraging anybody, it just ... happened!" Tim shouted suddenly. "I was trying to feed my parents! They couldn't get their own food; they'd been run over by the humans in their diesel trucks!"
"How ironic, then, that these parents of yours died two days later and it was all for nothing," Vincent snapped back. "I can only hope that whatever sorry offspring you have has learned from you and your family's stupid mistake. Any raccoon who tries to steal from me now will deeply, deeply regret it."
"Many already have," muttered Jill, not looking at either of them.
"Look," Tim began, and RJ could tell he was trying to act sensible, rational. "For the thousandth time, I'm sorry, okay?" Both he and Jill were breathing hard, trying to calm themselves down. "I didn't mean for things to get out of hand this way and you know it. And besides, whatever food you lost has been paid back by now." And finally Tim raised his head and looked Vincent dead in the eye for the first time. "In triplicate."
"Does that make you think I'm letting you off the hook?" said Vincent smoothly, silkily. "Because I'm not. You will continue gathering food for me for the rest of your sorry little life. That was the agreement."
"I — you —" Tim was angry now, frustrated. Suddenly he burst out, "Why should we give you anything? You don't scavenge for food like we do! You don't work for it! You trick animals, you con them out of it, you lie for it, you gamble for it, you do everything you can except real work!"
"Whereas you just steal food from the humans," Vincent snarled back. "Not much better, is it?"
"Compared to you?" Jill shouted, to the surprise of everyone else. "Loads better. Humans deserve to be stolen from. And it's you who's making us do the stealing. It's your own fault!"
"I suppose you're going to tell me now that it's my own fault that the bucketload is three times less than usual?" growled Vincent, rearing up on his hind legs again.
"You IDIOT!" screamed Tim, and a few birds around the clearing took to the night air, squawking indignantly. RJ's father ignored them and plowed right on. "You think this comes easy to us, don't you? That it's no effort at all to gather all this? Well, let me tell you something, Mr. High and Mighty, it's hard to begin with and it gets harder every year! The humans are taking over! Why do you think we think they deserve being stolen from? It's because they're WIPING US OUT!"
The raccoon was pacing now, breathing hard; while in front of him, Vincent wore a look of stunned shock. Unabashed, Tim continued, "They're plowing through our fields, building housing complexes, destroying thousands of acres of habitats and forest foods! They've squashed dozens of animals, including my own family, in those five-ton vehicles of theirs! And now our family is starting to go hungry just because they think they need more space!" Tim stopped pacing and faced Vincent again; he had lost all sense of reason and was shouting now, senselessly, mercilessly. "Both you AND the humans — you're — YOU'RE STARVING US!"
The last of Tim's words echoed round the clearing into the night, over the sounds of the squawking birds and odd cricket chirps. The raccoon looked down and shut his eyes, still breathing hard, bitter tears leaking between his eyelids. "You're starving us," he whispered again, and Jill placed a comforting hand round his shoulders. "Us. My family."
Vincent blinked, then a fierce rumble welled up from within his throat. "Be that as it may," he began angrily, "you are still expected to produce results. And for your little rant, I think I'll double the requirement."
Jill looked up at the bear and gasped. "Double? Oh, no, Vincent, you can't —"
"Double the requirement. One month to get it. You know what will happen if you can't."
With that, the bear turned, lowered himself to all fours and padded out of the clearing. Gradually the crackling sound of leaves and bushes faded away as he left, and soon all was quiet in the clearing once more. Tim and Jill stood there for a moment, not moving, while RJ remained crouched under the bush behind them, stunned, unsure of what to do.
"I couldn't stop myself," Tim whispered to Jill, wrapping his arms around her. "I just couldn't."
"It's okay, Tim," Jill said, trying to reassure her husband, though her voice shook. "We'll — we'll make ends meet somehow."
"What will this do to the kids?" Tim gasped; he didn't seem to have heard her. "RJ — Raymond — they'll starve. I can't see them suffer just because of me."
"Don't worry, Tim," Jill said, cupping her husband's chin up; Tim looked into her eyes reluctantly. "We can do this if we just try," Jill whispered. "We can't let Vincent win again."
Tim looked past Jill to where Vincent had left; a trail of cracked twigs and crushed leaves remained where he had crashed through the undergrowth. Tim stared hard at the scene, before finally muttering, "No."
He turned back to Jill and hugged her tight. "No, we can't. We can't let him win."
The last of Tim's words was a whisper, so quiet RJ barely heard it.
"Not again."
RJ stood up, his eyes wide; he wanted to call out to his parents, to talk to them, to ask them questions, to say something — and as he opened his mouth to speak, his parents started to fade away.
RJ blinked. He was losing sight of them. But how could that be? "No. Wait! Dad! Mom!"
Tim and Jill were far away now. They couldn't hear him.
"Mom! Dad!"
A mist was obscuring his parents from view. RJ suddenly felt like the world was tilting. He was skidding. Falling. Colors were swirling around him. Everything was confused...
...and before RJ knew it, the colors around him had twisted into the void that he had just left, and Rob had reappeared in front of him. The smile was gone from the wolf's face, to be replaced by a thoughtful expression. "You know, RJ," he said when he saw the raccoon, "I'm starting to see a lot of similarities between your parents' life and your own."
"Yeah, whatever. Like father, like son, right?" RJ asked him sarcastically. "And that was supposed to be 'better than I remembered', huh? If that's better, then I'd hate to see the worse."
"You were happy, though," Rob reasoned. "At least, before Vincent came along. You had some good times with your family."
"I suppose," said RJ thoughtfully, as he reflected on the food gathering. "So, can I wake up now?"
"No, not yet," replied Rob, smiling once more. "I'm sorry to see that you didn't enjoy your first trip down Memory Lane, but maybe this next one will help you out more."
"Help me out?" asked RJ, as the void began to fade away again. "You mean there's some point to all this?"
"Of course there is," Rob grinned — and then he vanished for the second time.