Chapter 1
Not Wanted
"Throw a stick at that fat ugly thing, Helena."
"Look the poor dumb thing can't think what to do. I'll pitch another rock at it. It moves about as fast as a turtle."
"Hey, you kids stop that rock throwing and bad name calling
right now." yelled Grandma Anna. "Shame on you treating
an animal like that. It wasn't doing you any harm."
Grandma Anna Hutyra visits each summer from the Slovak Republic. She lives in the tiny village of Lucka near the famous dragon-eyed castle of Spissky hrad.
The gray hilltop castle is scary on moonlight nights. Grandma even knows that on eerie Halloween nights the hungry vampires scare their victims in that spooky stone castle by rattling the blood stained dungeon chains. Witches on smoking broomsticks fly up the winding tower staircases teasing the bats, cats and great horned owls. The galloping wind growls and moans through the icy towers like a train on a stormy winter night racing ghosts. Halloween nights at the castle are hauntingly horrible. The children trying to sleep in homes nearby yank the thick blankets over their quivering ears and promise to be good if they can only live to see the next day's sun shining.
The Slovak Republic has hundreds of miles of dark green forests with splendid lakes. It has all kinds of trees, berry bushes and wild flowers. The friendly forest rangers, who are devoted to taking care of the wandering forests, live at Bijacovce. It has classrooms, guestrooms and a formal ballroom for community dining and dancing. Bijacovce is a friendly and charming place to visit. The rule is visitors must not be treated like strangers because the tradition is to shoot strangers.
The hilly forests have no fences. Horses or snowmobiles can be ridden forever. Wild pigs, wolves, bear, fox, porcupines, coyotes, badgers, elk, deer, geese, turkeys, swans, eagles, owls roam in the thick wooded hills. They just live across the spring fed creek and a mile up the crooked dirt lane from Grandma Hutyra's house. Grandma knows childhood stories about animals, wars, castles, even knights and fair maidens.
* * *
"That thing, what is it?" gulped Helena.
"It is a leave-me-alone porcupine that has strayed from the thick forest. It climbs high up in the pine trees and chews the tender bark for food. It can wag its short tail and stick sharp quills into any animal that tries to hurt it. Don't you ever throw rocks at any frightened animal again. Only mean people behave like that. Are you mean?"
"No, no Grandma Hutyra." stuttered Robert. Robert figured when Grandma was upset, she would have enough energy to paint the house in a day. He had learned the hard way to give Grandma plenty of room if her voice sounded like rocks rolling down a tin roof.
"No Grandma Anna, we aren't mean." protested little Helena. She remembered yesterday how quickly Grandma grabbed a broom and chased a stray dog from the flower garden. Helena put her hands in her pockets and acted like a lost kitten.
Hoping to change her angry mood, Robert whispered "What is a porcupine good for, Grandma?" If she would start explaining about the animal, then she would calm down. The real problem with Grandma getting upset was her starting to remember other things that Robert had done. It was only last week while he was painting the old doghouse that he painted a silly brown monkey's face on the side of the white garage. Maybe she was thinking of that right now.
She put her little sun-baked hands on her hips, quickly frowned and flatly stared at the kids; then, she motioned for them to follow her back to the house. When they entered the flower scented yard, Grandma pointed to the paint-starved bench under the apple tree for a place to sit. She wobbled to the house and returned with a tray of cookies, glasses and a pitcher of milk that she cautiously planted on the old plank table. She kept her wrinkled hands on the tray like a stern judge holding onto the desk looking over the quiet courtroom before making the sentence upon each of the I-caught-you-doing-it guilty.
"Robert and Helena, you must not forget that each of us can help in our own way if we have a chance. Some of us may actually need two chances. You must have patience. Some flowers blossom in the spring, and other flowers just as beautiful blossom in the summer.
What is a porcupine good for you ask? That is a good thinking question. You want to know what something is or does - then you can determine how valuable it is. But think what are butterflies good for? If you can't determine what value something has right today, then does that mean it is not good for anything tomorrow?
What if we thought something was good for the wrong reason? For
example, the only purpose for soldiers should be to dazzle our
eyes with flashing colorful movements in parades, not to protect
our country. Soldier marching bands in spectacular uniforms should
be to remind us that once we were too primitive to solve our problems
in a civilized manner. If that were the only purpose for soldiers,
some would ask what are they good for? It would be wonderful to
have soldiers and not need them! Everyone would be so happy. Does
our not knowing what someone has to offer give us the right to
call names and throw stones?"
Grandma Anna had friends and relatives killed in wars. She had
seen homes and factories blown up by bombs. It was hard to understand
what she meant sometimes when she was rambling like a cow in the
pasture. She would ask off the map questions. Then when she tried
to explain some things, she would painfully cry and have angry
tears hanging on her sun-wrinkled cheeks.
Her words were better than Robert had hoped; maybe she was going to tell a story. The way she was fussing around with little things: carefully pouring a glass of morning milk, slowly giving the begging puppy a bite of cookie and gently brushing the ants off the table. She was getting organized in her mind.
There were seven fat lumpy raisin cookies on the chipped plate. Grandma might eat one, three each mmmm. Helena asked permission to have one. Now Grandma put the cookies on the plate to eat, but Helena didn't take one without permission. After asking, she just waited a tiny bit and took one because Grandma would never bother to answer. She was just training us to be polite. She would not be embarrassed by lazy manners when we were visiting relatives or friends. She was also looking at the big picture trying to do her part to reduce future crime and violence.
Robert wanted to leap on the bench and excitedly shout, "Come on everybody! Grandma Hutyra is mixing up a tasty batch of cinnamon words. She's got a blue ribbon recipe for a humdinger story." He just stared blankly at the table and pinched off a piece of cookie. It wouldn't be very smart to tell Grandma Anna her old fashion cookies were better than the smell of spring flowers. She had not dismissed the rock throwing and name calling from her mind yet. It would be easier to make a rock float than to outwit Grandma with flattery. Helena had read Grandma's little story telling signs too. Cat like she just crouched there quietly waiting eyes fixed on the mouse hole twitching her nose whiskers.
Robert thought, "O.K., O. K. Grandma crank the engine, jam
the gears and burn the tires! When will she ever start the story?
Give our minds wings to loop the loop through canyons of wisdom.
What mysterious treasures hiding in thought shadows can we capture?"
Chapter 2
Eggs To Go
She waddled to the hollow tree trunk half-asleep. The coughing and the sniffing sounds froze her.
"Floppy-eared rabbit, why are you in my stump home with the big basket?"
"My ears are floppy because I'm wobbly weak and sneezy sick. I was drippy wet and ice chilled to the bone in the cold miserable rain yesterday. I hopped in here this early morning looking for a warm dry place to hide from the snoopy coyote because I am too ill to run very fast. May I peacefully rest here for a short while to gather my strength again?"
"You may be comfortable here while I'm taking a long nap. Then when I wake up, you can explain about this pretty basket with the fancy purple ribbon."
"Thank you for your kindness, but I don't have much time to rest. Young lady, please, tell me who you are?"
"My name is Ghost. My mother labeled me that because I am an albino porcupine. Who are you?"
"I am one of the volunteer Easter bunnies. This basket is full of decorated eggs for the baby forest animals and birds, but I'm too sick to deliver them this morning. Each year some old coyote finds my tracks and chases me, but he has never been quite fast enough. This year he can catch me. I am too weak to hop very fast. There isn't anyone I can trust to deliver the eggs. The other animals would either eat me or the eggs or both. My rabbit friends are afraid of the coyote. Some animals, like the squirrel, are not strong enough to lift all the joy in this basket."
"Mrs. Rabbit, I have the strength to carry that beautiful basket, and I would be proud to do it. I won't munch the eggs that are for the little forest folk."
"Thank you for offering to help, but the children must have these decorated eggs this morning. You poke along very slowly. You would take too many days to deliver all of the eggs; they would spoil.
The coyote and the crow would find you carrying the Easter basket.
They are very clever, and they would steal the eggs from you by
a cruel trick. The puma and the bear hunt in these woods. They
are rough and strong; their huge paws have long sharp curved claws
that would wickly snatch the basket. In this wild forest you and
that egg basket would be about as successful as a nervous balloon
tied to a friendly needle."
"I am not afraid of the puma, the bear or the coyote; my
sharp quills will stick them if they touch me. But I can only
amble along even when I rush to do something. Being slow is terrible
when everyone else is fast. I'm last before the race even starts.
Phooey, there is always some reason why I never ever get to help. If I could just have a chance to be member of a fun group one time, then I could learn about myself. I don't know who I am."
"They are too smart to touch you. Your bravery is a rare inspiring thing. Thank you for offering to help. Ah, let's think maybe, maybe, mmmm. It is only right that if you are willing to help me, then I should be willing to help you to have a chance. Your courage will make my enemies wary. The hard-working sun will soon be spying on us. We must hurry and build a snake proof a plan. If we make one mistake, the wary coyote will have the eggs; then Easter will not be celebrated by the forest children."