Thursday, December 11, 2008

TWENTY-ONE

Sam and Beatrice carefully headed back to the warren when Sam came up with a brilliant idea. “Why don’t we finish cleaning off in the stream?”

Bea glared at him, “Is that supposed to be a wise crack?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

Sam quickly assured her, “No, no, no. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought it would be the quickest way to clean off.”

She considered his suggestion and then shrugged, “Why not?”

The pair ambled toward the stream and Beatrice began to unload her pouch. She had several dead bugs that she’d been saving for a mid-afternoon snack and some shriveled mulberries. She also had another candy wrapper that she had decided not to share with Cocoa, and a melon rind nearly nibbled clean. Sam watched in fascination as she placed everything carefully on the bank.

“What?” she asked accusingly, noting his attention.

“I had no idea you carried around so much stuff,” remarked Sam with awe.

“Well, I do. Quit staring, it’s not polite,” she snapped, and began to wade into the water. Sam followed closely behind and then began to swim out into a shallow pocket less dangerous than the rushing center. Bea sat daintily on a rock and splashed herself, refusing to go out further lest she prove what a horrible swimmer she was. Sam floated on his back and was having a very good time, kicking his feet and using his tail as a rudder.

“You know, Bea,” he said, paddling closer to her rock, “What you did this morning was truly brave. It was the bravest thing I ever saw!”

Beatrice blushed and said, “Don’t be silly. Anyone would’ve done the same.” Then she became angry with herself, thinking she sounded as pompous as Silas and added, “What’d you expect? Silas isn’t the only courageous one in our clan.”

“I can’t wait to tell the others how you saved my life,” said Sam, crawling to the shore and shaking his fur dry. “Only, they’ll wonder what I was doing on that pile this morning. ‘Course I could tell ‘em how I was attracted by the spaghetti.” Sam murmured to himself.

She interrupted his thoughts, “Yes, Sam, why were you on that pile and not in bed? And where’s Pinky?”

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