So, the scoop is, i am working on my Nanowrimo story, so, tell me how you like it.Here is the story:
All 3,819 words
Chapter 1
The Plea to Ferdinand
The tea was warm. Persilla had made sure of that. Now Edgar sipped it out of his favorite china teacup, with his Crumbly Tea Cookies. He bobbed Pierre on his knee, thinking about the trouble they were in. The autumnal frost had come early, and the tomatoes, mushrooms, squash, beans, sunflower seeds, Brussels sprouts, barley, wheat, some corn, potatoes, soy plant, even the apple share had frozen, thawed and then fallen or rotted.
Edgar twiddled a cookie in his paw, for he was a mouse. Oh yes, a field mouse that lived in England. In a stump of a grand old tree bordered by waving farming fields. The Spelding Farm, to be exact. Their crop had gone bad too, and their crop was the Pinwhiffle crop, all was lost.
Persilla came down the tight polished corridor that was the center of the whole house. She was wearing a billowing pink, embroidered tea dress with an apron and wool gloves. She was bringing a core sample from a rotten apple in from the huge orchard of the Spelding’s.
“Really, Edgar, I haven’t a clue as to what to do, no cider, no stew, no bread, no pies, and not even a single pastie. We are on the last bout of the goat milk, and the last loaf of Rose’mry Bread. We’ll be eating our own paw tips by the time fall is through!” She wailed in exasperation. Mr. Pinwhiffle sighed and put Pierre down.
“Neither do I Perse, I think there is not a possible solution other than to find a new place and find food elsewhere. My brother has a place just outside London, maybe we could stay with him for a might till things get settled out.” Edgar shifted his plump stomach and got up. He made his way down the corridor to his homely study that was furnished with huge backed comfy chairs, roll top desks in abundance, and tons of manuscript pages for his novel. He found a cream colored page, and in his best cursive scrawled a letter to his brother, Ferdinand Foliar II. It looked something like this.
Dear Brother, Mr. Ferdinand Forrest Foliar,
It is of an unfortunate manor that our fall crop has been destroyed. We, being Persilla, Lucie, Pierre, and myself are giving a hopefully humble plea to you to help us in our time of need. Currently we have no food, so any kindness you show would be a great help.
Sincerely,
Edgar Edwin Pinwhiffle and family.
The letter was a very small one, so could not, obviously, go out with the Spelding's mail. There for, it took a might longer than one would hope. In fact, it had to go to the Western Field Culvert and be picked up by Maddox the mail rat. So, naturally it took about the course of eight days, a little over a week. By the time it was at Ferdinand’s, the food had completely run out at the Pinwhiffle's house but for the small rotten core sampling that Persilla had brought in eight days earlier.
Ferdinand looked at the mail, two bills from Ezzario Zefferelli Housing, and a small obscure letter from his brother. Humph! He took the letter to the parlor and opened it with his letter knife. He read it, and called upon his wife, Alice.
Alice trundled in toting her knitting and plopped down on the sofa. “What ever could old Edgar have gotten into?” she said.
“The letter states that the fall crop is gone, and they are seeking assistance. I really have no time to send over food every week, really! I must get on with my cataloguing of news, events, and artifacts of the Fenning’s, the holidays are right around the corner, and they always prove to trifle with my workings then.”
“Oh dear, you are just over worked, and I with Penelope, Hilary, Clarence, Drue, Wayne and dearest Phyllis. We really have no time, perhaps they wouldn’t mind coming…” She dropped off, only to continue. “I think I know just what to do, yes, that’s it. We’ll have them over; they can stay till spring comes around. We can have them help with the baby mice and your cataloguing, and help cooking, and, oh, and…” she had a dreamy look in her eye as she left the room, moving to the door from the wall in which the Foliar family lived into the grandfather clock, she and Ferdinand made the careful path to the counter without mishap and traversed the counter. Using the light of the moon, Alice found a purple-inked pen in the pen jar on the kitchen counter to write back. This time Ferdinand helped her to write large on a piece of the human’s paper and enveloped it, and put it in the mail addressed to:
The Creatures In Waiting
1347 Dannedin Avenue
County of Oxford, UK
This time the mailing only took two days. The Pinwhiffle's received the letter, and began packing right away, with the letter had come a parcel full up with ingredients for a delicious stew of vegetables and beetle. This was demolished within the firs showing and chased down with Marion Berry Cobbler and swigs of Hot Elderberry Wine (or less fermented elderberry brew for the younger ones).
When the night was through, the Pinwhiffle's woke and packaged away the manuscripts to the wagon that Edgar had simultaneously built. Then they called upon Maddox who brought the whole family, they harnessed themselves happily to the wagon and began the perilous journey on train, truck and foot to London.
Chapter 2
The Meeting of Saffire
The nights were often cold, and bleak, beginning to sprinkle during their sleep and towards dawn. Luckily they put up canvas tents and slept in the warm cotton covers that went on the beds at their stump house. Lucie woke early, 5:00 am by Edgars pocket watch, and watched the sun rise bright. She heated water on the little stove that they had brought along and dunked the bread crumbs just to make them not as stale (they had come from the Mouse Market in Thames), then dripped four drops of apple juice (from the same shop) into the water, mixing it with her paw. Then Persilla woke and took over, sleepily praising Lucie for her breakfast start.
Maddox and the rest of his family woke to the crumbs hot and waiting, droozled with the berry smoothie that Gathrax (part of Maddox’s family) had traded some coins for as a treat to the last day of traveling. They had this with the warm apple juice. The breakfast was devoured quickly and the beds put away into the cart that was concealed in some bushes on the edge of a field of grain. The family of rats harnessed up and began to walk.
Toot! Toooooooooooooot! The 10:00 train squealed into the Bruffton Station for diesel and it’s cargo. Definitely not expecting the small cargo of four mice and five rats plus a cartful of furniture. Of course it wouldn’t ever matter, being a mechanical item, so on came the troupe. They settled themselves in the corner of a pig-carrying car and took out their means of entertainment. Maddox and Gathrax’s family took out their maps and consulted them, Persilla bobbed Pierre on her knee and them moved on to her knitting, Edgar worked on his manuscript, and Lucie played tag with the monstrous pigs and then succumbed to her mothers request of studying her books and attending to her schoolwork that Persilla had administered, for Lucie was schooled at home.
After three long hours, the train shrieked to a stop and the car door was opened. Maddox, Gathrax, Farthrox, Quirftix, and Eppcefal had hooked themselves in and were on their way to the wood board that the rat crew always left in the train, they pushed it out the back sliding door and took the cart down the makeshift ramp. Then came the mad dash to the rolling fields of the outskirts of London. Maddox lead the family of rats forward like a lead dog through the throngs of cargo-boxes and stampeding pigs. They reached the far side of the cement to find a squirrel chirping a song with a stick and a satchel of food and hanging hobo-like from its shoulder.
“How was the ride?” the creature said, extending the i like an animal from the sweltering state of Texas, USA. “I said, how was the ride?” Again the squirrel extended the ai combination and the i.
“Um, good, why?” Answered Edgar.
“Cause, I’m goin’ to the Americas, I need ta catcher a ride.” The squirrel smiled in a dreamy, glossy eyed way, continuing its odd speech. “Mie name’s Saffire, with two fs, like Safi an’ fire as in flame, ya know?”
“I- sure. Why do you want to go to America? I mean, well, isn’t England good enough for you?” Edgar ventured.
The queer squirrel flagged its tail in indignance, frowned, and made growling noise. “Grrrrar!” at this point she heightened her voice, “Furffs and fizzles! I Saffire am going to America to get… to get my degree in mechanics.” To the rats, mice, and, believe it or not, Saffire’s surprise, Saffire had dropped her atrocious grammar. There was a silence. Then Saffire continued. “Er, well, those Londoners wou’nt abiode a ‘quirrel workin’ in a, er, office. Ya know?”
Edgar’s eyebrows plowed into his bushy fuzz of hair. He turned to the rats and fellow mice. “We need to get going. Come on.” He turned to Saffire, “We need to go now, and we are expected at my brothers. Good bye, pleasure meeting you, may you get your mechanical degree.”
Saffire said goodbye and turned back to the train and took out a notebook and poured over notes, adding some here, erasing some there.
Maddox, Gathrax, Farthrox, Quirftix, and Eppcefal approached the Violet colored house with utmost caution. A lavender purple Volks Wagon Beetle pulled into the circular gravel drive that wound around a glass and smooth stone sculpture in the midst of dozens of huge headed purple blossoms. A woman in a fancy flowing purple dress stepped out and went inside the house. Eppcefal called a clear and the cart whisked to the cellar door. In a practiced fashion Eppcefal opened the door with a stationed lever of wood, and then used the wood to ramp down the short steps. From there, the cart made the journey to the very far back shelf, where most of the rotten out of date foods. (Such as cans of tuna, locally fished by Artemis Fenning, the extremely fermented syrup that was siphoned for a Maple Cream Beer base, and the strawberry jam known to the mice as “the place where you go if you don’t eat your vegetables”.)
Chapter 3
The Departing of Maddox and Crew
Alice was plumping the pillows on the three other beds added to the collection the Foliar family possessed. She then went to the parlor to put on tea and put the apple shavings and pie crumbs on the table. The Pinwhiffle's were due in a half an hour; they would be arriving in the lower level of the wall. Alice was a might of a prim mouse, and always wanted to be perfect. She looked at the books on the shelves and adjusted them, she went to the kitchen and put the Grape Rounds (cut grapes that are perceived as large items to mice, they look like the slices of meat on the big thanksgiving platters, if you celebrate that) which were marinated in soft cane sugar and served with breaded mint sticks, onto a floral patterned platter. (Much like the thanksgiving platter mentioned before)
Ferdinand was putting a pair of green corduroy pants on Drue, the mouse tot. Ferdinand was another prim one; he adjusted the ankle rolls and put a fresh white shirt on the small mouse. His task: dress the infants, mouse teens, and toddlers accordingly. Currently his only success had been to bathe Phyllis. He finally gave up and trekked to the hall he lit some of the lamps and adjusted the rug.
All of the sudden the light tinkle of the doorbell chimed into the house. The Foliar Children raced down the hall, bouncing of the walls in eager excitement, Alice smoothed her apron and hung it up and went to the the door, Ferdinand went to the door with a little trolley for the luggage. The Foliar family congregated at the door, and Ferdinand opened it. They let every one in, except for Maddox and the others. Who began their journey back to Oxford, after being paid of course.
The two families made many introductions between the mice babes and mice teens, and then went to the parlor to eat and have a formal teatime. Alice bustled about with her platter of Grape Rounds and other trays of Lavender and Rosehip Biscuits, or apple shavings, or even frosted cereal flakes that were dropped from the Fenning's counter. Alice poured cup after cup of ginger spice tea and refilled the cookie tin several times. The tea was finally finished and Edgar and Ferdinand went to the drawing room to speak of the luggage and room situation, for it was rather difficult to fit four more mice into an eight-mouse house. Alice shepherded the mice to the nursery where they soon demolished order and flung the toys off the walls, of course they were having great fun at the time.
Edgar was discussing where to bunk Lucie when there was a creak at the wall. Ferdinand new only two well it was the sound of a guest opening the cupboard. This was a known vulnerability among mice. As mice have experienced, guests to the house of the host do not understand the expectations of the host. They do not know where the Chardonnay or such are, and thus go blundering about. Ferdinand motioned for Edgar to follow and went to the nursery. He motioned for the young ones to quiet and began the procedure for escape. They went to the back hall and found the door in the dark, because Alice had turned the lamps off, they went out in terror and huddled on the lawn. At that moment, a black-gloved claw snatched Phyllis out of the pram, another snatching Clarence, another Drue and Wayne, and Penelope, and Lucie and Pierre, and finally Hilary. Ferdinand turned to talk and only found three other mice with him. Alice, Persilla, and Edgar.
Chapter 4
A Dangerous Decision
Valkyrie Fenning stood in the kitchen looking at Artemis Fenning.
“You’re kidding me, right? Boriss is such a grouch! How in the world?”
“No Val, Boriss Shmelltner is a grouch, so I have no clue how he managed to make me Director Of Proceedings At Zarelli Employment. It’s a breakthrough! Coffee every morning with donuts, my very own office, and seven computers in it!” Artemis was exploding with excitement, and couldn’t stand still. He began twirling about until Valkyrie brought him back to earth. She went further into the house and picked up a ring of little gold keys.
She smiled and went out the door, “Gotta go get Sicily from Malcolm Falls Academy. School gets out in twenty minutes. I’ll be back ‘round four o’ clock. Bye sweetie.” She said. And skipped out the door.
The hazy purple bug rolled along the streets at one street called Dragging Brisbois Rd, named for its monotonous ongoing-ness through the busy part of Galway district, she halted. She grinned, and pulled into the Galway Mall. The parking lot was not as full as she had expected, she pulled up to the handy cap area and parked without the stress of finding a spot, even though she fully knew there was not a toenail out of place. She stepped out and closed the door. Outside the Target was a man in a black tuxedo and a hat with silk hatband and a peacock feather poking out, he had deep purple glasses. That was all she had to go on. Purple glasses. She strowed up in her purple frilly mini skirt, the key to him knowing it was she.
“Bonjour, I trust you are the Valkyrie Fenning…”
“That I am, and I assume you are Tark Desteffano. Buisness is buisness. What do you Have?” said Valkyrie. She held out a gloved hand and gave a jump-drive to the man, Tark.
Tark lifted a brief case and smiled, “I see we prefer different media. I think we should talk at a private venue. The Watermelon Café is a good place. Follow me.” He went to his car and opened the door for Valkyrie. She stiffly stepped inside and buckled up.
In moments they were entering the café and finding seats in a small room that had curtains around it. They ordered pesto and sat down. “Mrs. Valkyrie, I understand that you are in the Cause. So, you collected the password and the account information?” Tark didn’t even pause for Valkyrie to answer. “I wonder how long we have to upload the accounts of the break-ins on face book before the authorities shut down the Internet page. According to my research, at least forty-five percent of the four-thousand-nine-hundred-and fifty-six friends that the Netters have been friend-ing will be online while the page is a link and the authorities aren’t on our tails. Lets hear what you have.” Tark took a swig of dark wine and swabbed the pesto from his bowl with white bread.
Valkyrie grinned and again showed the jump-drive. “Of course it took much hacking, but I wouldn’t let down the Mafia of Tazz Isle. Look.” She opened a glossy laptop and plugged the jump-drive into it. Using the finger print reader she logged on and opened the file labeled Val’s Stuff. Inside were several coded documents in which the letters were represented as a number that was shown on the page in binary code. Obviously it would take ages to read out the documents, so she logged on to a hacking site and fed the docs. into a non-traceable decoder. The documents popped up and she printed them strait off the computer with the inlaid printer. Tark took them and read them; this is the text he read:
Name: Wallfus Delforrick
User Name: dr_delforrick*wallfus
Password: dellirywall
Account #: 7693564000
Home Address: 1526 Sellquiy St.
Azure Cay, Berry Islands
Bahamas, West Indies
Mailing Address: PO box 346 on Cape Azure
Email: wally_del@QM
ID: 45739200153248907349
Birthplace: Dohburray, Alaska
Family: Andy Kent, grandmother, Alexander Delforrick, grandfather, Janna Miller, mother, Gerald Delforrick, father, Zoe Delforrick, sister, Micheal Delforrick, brother, Angela Elken (deceased), wife, Suzanna ElkenDe’forrick
April the twenty-third, 2000
I have spent my life creating these reports of behavior. I have many accounts of dealings with robberies such as thus, my point is that many people disagree but I now have proof that people have been stealing icons of value across the continents. Just last week the Journal of Sir Milldwick Hann the Immortal was lost to a group suspected to be called the Hands of Ballidan*. The book is the only known recording of Hann’s miraculous supposed immortality. The only possible reasons for it to be taken from St. Rolland’s Church in Spain is that the Hands wanted the secret of immortality. See the Brittan Second Gazette of Daily Life.
On the fifth month of 1679 a news story appeared telling of Lady Francine Malia De’Tweae Shippe’s unfortunate murder, again the Hands of Ballidan were thought to blame. Oddly, Lady Francine was one of the Veiled Elders thought to speak to animals, some also speculated she could shape shift, but that was no more than a rumor. Her murder meant that the items endowed in Will would go to Sir Henry Gustav Abraham Shippe VI, who confessed at the funeral and memorial to being a member to the Hand……………
The document went on describing odd little murders and robberies, all placed by the legendary Hands of Ballidan. Tark burst out in a joyful smile and folded the pages. He tucked them into his suit and stood.
“So Mrs. Valkyrie Fenning, I trust your into computer research and text files, well, your in the pay is $45,000.00 for just that information, and the pay for the full time job is $500,000.00 every month. There will be meetings every Friday, and we meet at the Dellis Office Building on Nor’t Finn Avenue and Welding Rd. See you there, Mrs. Fenning!” Then Tark up and marched away in a flamboyant fashion.
Valkyrie Fenning considered herself successful, and went to pick up Sicily from Dora, the family friend who Valkyrie had told to “please pick up Sicy, because I have some urgent errands to attend to.” And that she did; now she would act completely normal and go the Costco with darling Sicily.
Chapter 5
Dark Rooms and Cruel Threats
The eight mouselings were bagged and presumably in a cart of some kind. Clarence, being eldest, had worked out that they were in Maddox’s cart, but had not told the others for they would have gotten in a terrible tizzy over it all. The ride was sure bumpy, and the younger ones, Pierre, Phyllis, Drue, and Wayne, were whining pitifully. Clarence cringed then said, “H’wever got us do’ent want us to know where we’re going, but I think we’re bound for some eavill place. What should we do?”
Lucie piped up and explained an intricate plan she had read on a note in the cart. It had something to do with meeting in a sewer and transporting the mice to some building called Dellis Office Building. Phyllis screeched, (“Yagorf!”) and squirmed in the bottom of the cart. Clarence heard gruff voices and shushed the rest of the mice.
“Rrrg, shut’ture mouths younguns! You’ll get much to yap about later, gettup!” Crude hands grasped the mouselings and took them into a dank smelling cavern that Clarence and Lucie and the elder children knew was the sewer. They were put in a hall without lights and their arms were roughly tied with twine. A solitary lantern was lit and the foot falls receded into the dripping corridors.
Clarence wriggled out of the sack that smelt of cranberries and coffee. He could see that the other mice were bagged and the lantern was five paces out of reach of the farthest along mouse, which happened to be the not-yet walking babe, Phyllis. Sighing in defeat, the young boy mouse grumbled and whispered the predicament to Lucie, the next reliable mouse in the cavern.
“Mmmm, I wonder, could you bite through Penelope’s twine? She could untie you then me and the rest.” Said Lucie. Clarence cursed for not thinking up that plan. He leaned over and began the labors of chopping up the twine on Penelope’ s wrists.
