The Adventures of Button (3 page)

“You mean you want her downwind,” Ignatius piped in.

Ribbon haughtily regarded her tufted and tattered neighbor. “Really, rat, you take too much upon yourself.”

Ignatius laughed, a short, barking cough. “Ah, ah, dear little posy. I’m not one to take on airs. Am I, Ssserek?”

“Aw, my little poseur. You are in rare feather today.” Ssserek looked back to where Buttons sat. She had hastily moved on Ribbon’s approach. “Well, little one, I see you have met our striped nosegay.”

“Well, if you mean a skunk, yes I have.”

“That bad? You’ll have to tell me about it one day.”

“Not now, please.” Buttons looked beseechingly at Ssserek. “It really was an awful time. And, well, everyone is here now. You see, don’t you?”

“I can imagine. I understand. I do, and we won’t.” Ssserek returned his gaze to Ribbon and the many inhabitants of the Great Field that now surrounded him. Truly it was a rare day.

I wonder, Ssserek thought. Our small black friend here certainly knows how to attract a crowd. Buttons sat against his side, unconciously stratching herself. Well, it is a bit dusty today and she certainly has been busy. Next, you know . . .

Buttons rolled onto her back, arching herself side to side, sending dust clouds into the air until she was nearly masked by it.

“Does feel good, doesn’t it?” asked Ssserek.

“Well, I’m getting tired,” said Buttons from somewhere in the cloud. “It’s been a long day and I haven’t had my nap.” She sat up, her head sitting just above the dust. She looked around her. “Hi,” she shouted. “Boy, it’s good to see you.”

Ssserek smiled, for she had said little to the gathering. He started to say something to Ignatius when he became aware of the hush which had fallen on the many good animals of the Great Field. Following their rapturous gaze, he quickly looked backwards. Buttons was making her way up his tail until she stood before the coiled mound of his muscular form. First placing her right paw on one coil and then the left, she slowly bunched herself. Launching herself upward, she scrambled over the top. Falling into the bowl formed by Ssserek’s coils, she righted herself with some difficulty. A puff of dirt-laden air escaped, and she rolled onto her back. Four paws stuck into the sky, and closing her eyes, she was instantly asleep.

The broad, blunt nose of a startled serpent was caught by surprise at the cool, sweet breath of each exhalation escaping from the soundly asleep Buttons.

“Well, well!” Ssserek exclaimed. “Well, I’ll be!”

“Hey, Ssserek.” The hushed squeak of Ignatius came from his side.

Ever alert even when among friends, Ssserek was caught totally off guard. First by the totally unexpected actions of Buttons and then by the proximity of Ignatius. His head began to whip around when he caught himself. He froze. Peeking at Buttons who slept without a care within his coils, Ssserek looked slowly down at the foolhardy, and brave, young squirrel. Never had any of the squirrel clan approached Ssserek so closely. He muttered to himself, but only to himself, for Ignatius stood frozen at his side.

“To be brave for a friend is one thing, my little friend. But do you mean to be here?”

Ignatius stuttered, and before answering, carefully measured the snake. The muscular bulk of Ssserek was startling at a distance. Up near, it was absolutely breathtaking, well, almost. Ignatius was built of sterner stuff than most had given him credit for. He was also cleverer than such a small bit a fluff should be. He gambled all.

“Well, you know how it is, Ssserek. Right, Ssserek, old friend?” The last was a bit daring, but from where Ignatius stood, Ssserek had barely so much as breathed after looking down at the somnolent figure of Buttons.

Softly, Ssserek answered, “No, little rat, I don’t. But I’m sure you will enlighten me.” The serpent’s nose very slowly approached Ignatius. When within a scant inch, he again whispered, “But I’m sure you will tell me. Old, old friend.”

The nearness of the great snake caused a slight tremor to creep up Ignatius’s back. Anything, anything, terror shouted, more than anything. His muscles wished to do anything other than tremble. They shrieked, “Run, run, before it’s too late.” But Ignatius quickly suppressed his muscles and his first impulse, though not without Ssserek taking careful notice.

Ignatius began haltingly, than recovered himself. In for one, in for a dozen. He returned Ssserek’s unswerving gaze. Ignatius sat up, took a deep breath, and calmly addressed Ssserek. “Great serpent, I beg your leave.” Ignatius wished to say more, but at his friendliest, Ssserek was terribly intimidating. Ignatius pushed forward with all of his courage. “I wish to see. Really, Ssserek, no one will believe it! Gosh, it’s incredible, I mean, wow. I mean, WOW! Can you imagine? Golly geeeee! Is Buttons really asleep?” The squirrel’s voice was hushed and reverent. His breath was taken in short gasps and exalted in long hissing sighs.

Ssserek would have guffawed at the squirrel’s temerity, but Ignatius was impressed beyond fear.

“Come, my little one. Climb up, and tell the world what you have seen.”

A great leaper and with strong, facile fingers to help, Ignatius stood looking down on the recumbent figure of Buttons. On her back and partially curled up, she lay resting against Ssserek’s coils. She was clearly relaxed and totally oblivious to her surroundings. Ignatius stood, then sat, then walked around Ssserek’s coils. There was no exclamation that met the need, and he spluttered inarticulately. He sat once again, but this time, too near the focus of his attention. He slipped, then tilted forward. He would have landed on Buttons, except that someone grabbed him by the tail. He twisted, and looking upward, he found himself being lifted into the air by his tail, which was in turn grasped by Ssserek.

Moans, squeaks, and gasps came from the audience surrounding Ssserek. Many of the viewers scrambled to find safer environs. Most simply sat, stunned by the sight of Ignatius dangling by his tail from Ssserek’s lips. Without disturbing his coiled portion, Ssserek slowly turned. He paused. The moment was too dramatic not to stop. Everyone sat motionless. There were no sounds other than the quick, deep breaths of rabbit, skunk, bird, and others. Ssserek slowly deposited Ignatius before his mother who moved backwards and then sat with a plop.

Large, round eyes stared at the descending Ignatius, who began to sqirm as he came nearer to his mother. As he touched ground, he lay on his side. His legs had deserted him. Ignatius began to stutter. Righting himself, he looked upward only to find himself staring directly into the benevolent and calm face of Ssserek. Ssserek butted him, “Well, say something to your mother. She’s waiting.”

To this day, Ignatius cannot say who instilled greater awe or fear in him that day—his mother or Ssserek. Whichever existed, it lasted for a moment only as Ignatius’s normal insouciant nature got the upper hand. With a “Wow,” “Gee whiz,” and an agile bow to his mother (first) and then Ssserek, he was off, stopping only to quickly relay what he had seen.

The word spread rapidly through the crowd. The head turned first to the speaker, and then again and again to the snake who had resumed his most placid aspect. The hubbub created by Ignatius was ignored completely. The crowd began to break up into small discussion groups, and a few more daring discussants began to slowly circle Ssserek in vain hope of getting a better view. None to be had, they began to disperse. No one was about to tempt his fate by moving closer to the great snake who had become motionless.

Ignatius returned, puffing from his exertions. He looked up. “Thank you, Great Snake. Your kind actions will be remembered for all time.”

Some distance to the rear, his mother was making clicking noises as she sought to gain her intrepid son’s attention. Ssserek was not known for patience, and the proximity of her youngest son, scrawny though he was to the awe-inspiring serpent, was not the least bit desirable from her more-distant view.

She hissed, “Come back, Ignatius, before you irritate him.” She pleaded, “Please come back. You can talk to . . . Buttons. Later.” She had meant to say “That troublemaking little canine” but did not. Ignatius’s loyalty to friends had often caused much trouble in the past, but she was not about to offend Ssserek, particularly not when he was so close.

Ignatius danced in small circles before Ssserek. Torn between his mother’s insistence and all that he had to say, he finally concluded with a “See you tomorrow.” Ignatius bounced towards his mother with many a long look backwards. Ssserek remained motionless.

The temptation was too great. Ignatius was too excited to refrain. He gave no thought to the danger. He had to say it. With a twist, Ignatius bounded towards his target, his mother’s fearful squeak following after him. Standing as high as he could on his back legs, Ignatius piped, “Bet you get a crink in your neck before she wakes.”

Ssserek’s strike was faster than the eye could follow. Its speed was terrifying. Ignatius froze involuntarily, his muscles screaming, “
Run
!” The broad blunt snout loomed above him, filling his horizons. Then ignominiously, Ignatius found himself rolling head over heals toward his mother. The pain was unbearable. It was too well-known that Ssserek’s strike was rapidly fatal. Ignatius cried out as he tumbled through the air. He quickly became aware of his aching posterior as he came to rest in a heap of dust and tattered tail. Dirt filled his mouth and eyes. He coughed repeatedly, his breath coming in hacking, retching of pain. “Wha . . . wha . . . what happened?” He sat up with his rear legs ludicrously poking into the air towards a Ssserek who had regained his unflinching composure.

Ignatius wept loudly, “I’m dying. Mom, Mom, help me. I’m sinking. Ssserek, how could you?” Ignatius propped himself up and looked forlornly into his mother’s face. “I’m sorry, Mom, I couldn’t help it. Really I couldn’t.” He collapsed, sniffing loudly as he did.

His mother ignored her son and stepped around him to approach Ssserek. Bowing with a graceful sweep of her tail, she looked the snake directly in the eye. “My thanks, and my deepest gratitude to you, Great Serpent, for sparing my son, though between you and me, I must wonder why.”

It was with great difficulty that Ssserek was able to bow his head in return and say, “I hope I have not given your youngest too much pain, in view of the many he has given you.”

With another sweep of her tail, mother squirrel bowed once again and slowly moved away. Ignatius sat unbelievingly. His mother had never shown any courage in her life to his certain judgment.

“Gee, Mom, I’ve never seen you that close to anyone before.” Rubbing his backside, he returned to the topic of most interest to him. “What happened?”

“He butted you, you . . . you . . . nincompoop!” Her voice was indignant and only marginally concerned. “And, he has my permission to eat you the next time you get too wise for your tail.” She really didn’t mean it, of course. On the other hand, Ignatius knew that he could find himself on the wrong side of Ssserek if he didn’t watch out.

Ignatius responded as a good son should. A small “Oh” and he dutifully followed his mother, his gaze returning again and again to the snake who had not moved.

For his part, Ssserek was still having difficulties. First, it was with great difficulty that he bottled up the silent laughter which threatened to overwhelm him. Secondly, his ribs, all of them, were beginning to ache with the effort. And thirdly, as he slowly turned his gaze at the sleeping Buttons, he would not disturb her for anything, not even the most exasperating of all creatures.

Ssserek slowly regained his composure and settled himself to rest. He meant to return to the contemplation of the greatest mystery of all, The Beginning, but found himself thinking of a greater mystery, SHE!

The noonday sun had passed its zenith and paid scant heed to the silent figure of a great diamondback rattlesnake coiled about a sleeping dog. But for the inhabitants of the Great Field, it was a day they would long remember, and for a particular squirrel who sat throughout the day high on a branch rubbing an aching back, it was a day he was proud to have experienced. It was a good day even if it was a long day.

The End

The Story of Delph

Buttons and Sally moved through the forest at their steady ground-eating pace, their legs a blur of movement. Buttons’s broken tail was carried tight against her round rump, unlike other Scotties whose tails were always held high. Her tail was broken very early in her young life by rats who had ventured into the Great Forest undetected. Buttons would never be able to hold it aloft like a bold, black flag constantly advancing on the enemy. Sally, however, snapped her brown-and-white beagle’s tail high and low in a constant game of crack-the-whip. As different as they were, they had one thing in common—they were best of buddies.