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Parktails. Douglas G. Campbell
Читать онлайн.Название Parktails
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781630877897
Автор произведения Douglas G. Campbell
Жанр Контркультура
Издательство Ingram
Morgorgor soon ambled up through the tall wet grass, shook her whole body to dry herself, and then sat down by the end of a log. Romla came next, followed not long afterward by Brogoff the black bear. They both lay down near the rock wall, back among the shadows. Thimblewicket raced under the overhang, but tripped over a pinecone near the entrance and went tumbling across the dirt floor, narrowly missing Morgorgor’s sharp quills. Quququic flew in next. Keeble entered gracefully and quietly, almost without being noticed.
We were chatting away with each other when Brogoff growled, “Where is that silly Pabatackle? Why must he always be late?”
Keeble answered “Don’t be such a grump Brogoff, you know how Pabatackle likes a wet day like today. He probably got sidetracked chasing frogs down by Croaker’s Pond.”
“Well,” Morgorgor said with great deliberation, “perhaps we should begin without him, he knew when the meeting was to begin.”
Romla suggested that we put the matter to a vote, and all of us agreed to start the meeting without Pabatackle.
Almost immediately Thimblewicket chirped up, “I nominate Keeble to chair the meeting!”
Romla seconded the motion and everyone else agreed, so the meeting began.
“Blinkers, have you got the files on hours, wages, and vacations?” asked Keeble.
“Yes, oh yes I do, and may I point out that I have studied the figures. I have compared the figures. We must consider the importance, the relevance of all these statistics. These statistics are most important, most important,” I answered.
“Will you please just stick to the numbers? Just give us the figures on weekly hours worked,” Keeble replied.
“Oh yes, oh yes, I most certainly will. I will stick to the facts; facts are what we need to know. Now let me see, let me check my notes. Oh yes, let me find page fourteen; page fourteen has what we need to know. Here it is; I’ve found the numbers we need. Average working hours for ungulates per week is 32.7; average hours for small rodents is 43.2, and for large rodents 41.6. Felines average 25.3 hours, canidae 38.7, raptors 34.8, woodpeckers 39.5—the list goes on and on you see—it goes on and on,” I said.
“Could you give us a summary, a very, very brief summary? Keeble asked.
Though I detected a hint of sarcasm in Keeble’s voice, I provided the requested summary. “Well yes I will do that; I will be very brief, very concise and to the point, I will not stray one small step from the facts. Let me see, here it is, here are the averages of hours worked for all animals of the Geyser District. On average we work 38.2 hours per week during the summer tourist season. Though I must say that Gondzor averages 53.9, and Zornova averages 52.1 hours per week, very dedicated those two are. Though I would not want to brag, I must say that I average 75.1 one hours per week. It’s all that computer work, so much time spent in front of the computer.” I would have continued to outline the facts, but Keeble interrupted me.
“Thank you, Blinkers, for the facts,” responded Keeble. “Can the committee make a recommendation on a reduction in hours for ungulates?”
Brogoff was about to speak when the damp air was split in two with cries of high-pitched laughter. All of a sudden Pabatackle came sliding through the wet grass on the steep bank opposite the overhang. A small mound functioned like a ramps sending Pabatackle flying through the air. Pabatackle giggling with delight throughout his slide and flight, landed with a soft thump against Brogoff’s fury side. Doubling up with laughter, Pabatackle rolled into Morgorgor’s quills. A pain-filled and pitiful whine filled the ears of all those at the meeting, and all those within several miles, no doubt.
“I’m skewered, I’ve been made into a shish kebob,” whimpered the deflated otter.
All of us held our bellies and covered our mouths with our paws, except for Keeble and Quququic, who had no paws, just to keep from laughing. Thimblewicket, though she tried, could not contain herself and burst into a high-pitched squeaking laugh. Pabatackle was about to swat the small rodent with his forepaw, when he heard a warning growl from above. He looked up, only to find Romla standing over him, her tail twitching back and forth in a menacing way.
It did not take Quququic long to pull two sharp quills from Pabatackle’s rear end. Though Pabatackle moaned pathetically for a while, he soon returned to his silly old ways. His pain soon forgotten, once it no longer brought him any attention, he began decorating Morgorgor’s quills with wild strawberries.
“We are so pleased you were able to attend this meeting young Pabatackle,” intoned the ever calm Keeble. “All of us are so sorry that this meeting was not set at a convenient time for you. You are such a very busy otter, with all those frogs to chase, and wet hillsides to slide upon,” she continued. “Now, Brogoff you were about to speak.”
Brogoff, who spoke with a very deep voice, said, “It seems to me that the ungulates have no room to complain about the hours they work. Nor do the annual travel to stride figures show that they cover more distance in an average week that the rest of us.”
“Oh, I agree with Brogoff, let the record show that we all most definitely and completely reject the wage proposal of the ungulates. Down with ungulates, down with the ungulates I say, drive them from the park I say!” squeaked Thimblewicket.
She stopped and shrank back with embarrassment when Quququic cheeped softly into her ear, “Be quiet you silly ground squirrel, Keeble is an ungulate, remember that Keeble is an ungulate. And so is Zornova!”
With a somewhat subdued and repentant tone Thimblewicket spoke again “Keeble, I am so embarrassed; I’m so sorry that I got carried away. I did not mean to insult you, for I have always respected you, and I know that you work hard.”
“Apology accepted,” replied the magnanimous mule deer.
Our committee meeting continued almost until noon. In the end we decided that the ungulates had no basis for their request for higher wages (more feed) for their summer work. We thought that they might indeed deserve higher wages in the winter. In winter the ground was covered with snow, and unlike many of us, they could not hibernate or sleep through much of the winter. Further, we recommended no change in the number of hours worked. Since no animals were allowed any except emergency vacations in the summer, we saw no reason why ungulates should have a summer vacation. However, since ungulates had to work for the winter tourists as well, we thought consideration should be given to a plan that would allow more vacation time in the spring or fall.
Once the meeting had ended Pabatackle was soon rollicking through the wet grass, the sharp prick of Morgorgor’s quills apparently forgotten. Brogoff frowned reprovingly at the silly otter as he shambled among the trees overturning logs and stones as he searched for nuts.
The fact that I had more minutes to prepare dominated my thinking. Oh, I shall be up all night and tomorrow my paws will be ever so sore. A secretary’s work is never done. Oh I have no desire for attention, I want no glory. I’m not the only one who has work to do. Yet if anyone needs a vacation, it’s me. I thought to myself as I neatly re-filed my papers and returned folders to my attaché case, one must be fastidious, ever fastidious or the whole district would descend into anarchy. Yes, everything must be put in its proper place, that’s what I say.
Dozema’s Funeral
Each species has its own funeral customs. Coyotes sing sorrowful laments at sunset, bison conduct ritual stampedes, and eagles circle high into the clouds above. Skunks are a somber lot, so they are not given to elaborate public demonstrations of grief. Dozema’s body had already been placed on a flat stone high above in Willow Meadow, just below Spiny Ridge, not more than a hundred yards from Stony Burrow. I for one was happy that the wind was coming from the south, so the odor of the deceased was blown away from the assembled crowd in Willow Meadow. Willow Meadow is not easy to get to, you seldom see people there since it is far from any trail or path. It is ideally suited for large gatherings because of its size and privacy. Hundred