The Adventures of Button (8 page)

“Well,” she said, “that’s that. Good job. That was great Milo. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

She glanced down at Delph, whose tail was twitching fretfully to and fro. “Getting anxious, water moccasin, old friend?” She rubbed his knobs gently.

Delph sighed deeply. No one had ever been so gentle with him, or spoke jokingly as though he were one of the group. It was a nice sensation.

Ssserek moved back so Sally could watch Milo’s hoof as he slowly advanced it toward the trap. Delph shuddered, but quieted as Button crooned to him. “Easy, Delph, easy. Milo’s really very gentle.”

Delph glanced at her. She really meant it. The tone of her voice was soothing and reassuring and Milo was moving very slowly. It was surprising just how slow he could move such a large hoof. He liked it. He enjoyed being the center of attention, not being kicked or yelled at, much less being beaten. As badly as his leg ached, another, deeper ache was slowly disappearing from his heart.

Sally cocked an eyebrow at her friend and thought of the blow to her rump Delph had delivered earlier, but kept her thoughts to herself. There were more important matters at hand.

Delicacy, not muscle, was needed here. Sally slowly guided Milo as he picked up one hoof and then swung it forward to hover just over the trap. Delph could not move further away and Milo could not directly see the trap which was partially hidden from view. Thus, he had to depend upon the eyes and judgement of the two dogs. Buttons was reassuring Delph and Sally was guiding the leading edge of his hoof so that it contacted the lever which could release the jaws of the trap. Twice Milo had to stop and move his hoof as it slid off the rusting metal trap.

Sally’s nose was almost in continuous contact with the hoof or the trap as she guided Milo. Finally, he had the purchase he needed. With scant pressure, or so it seemed to him, the lever was depressed and the jaws flopped open. With a shout of glee, Delph bounded away from the frightening contraption and rolled over and over in the shallow edge of the swamp, sending geysers of mud and water flying into the air.

“Wow, wee, woo, wow,” was all he shouted for several moments.

Buttons carefully approached Ssserek, butted him with her head, and said, “You were great, Sssserek. Thanks, again.”

He quietly beamed and nodded in agreement.

Both Sally and Buttons sidled up to Milo, rubbing themselves against his huge legs. “You were great, Milo. Really, no one else could have done it.”

He smiled hugely. Rather nice, for young dogs. Not always barking for no reason at all. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without you. You were very good. Great teamwork. Anytime you need me, you know where I am.”

By this time, Delph had recovered himself and was watching the four friends. Slowly, his stout legs carried him silently forward until he stood next to Sally. Tipping his head so that he could better survey the small beagle, he very slowly brought his jaws to her side, his lips slowly writhing up and down at her proximity.

His growling, grumbling stomach gave his presence away. Both Sally and Buttons leaped away, whirling to confront the alligator.

Buttons scrambled onto Delph. Slinking up his long snout with her belly dragging on his ridged and rough hide, she paused before his luminous eyes. “Will you never learn?” She sat and pondered this new and fascinating addition to the swamp. As she did so, Milo moved up so that he stood over the alligator. The shadow of the huge moose made Delph nervous and he began to fidget. However, he didn’t move. He simply waited to hear what Buttons wanted.

“You know, Delph, friends don’t behave like you do. You don’t eat friends. They help one another, like we did. So what’s it going to be? Friendship or . . .” She glanced upwards, but said nothing more.

Delph gulped. He started to speak but Buttons’s weight, slight as it was, prohibited him saying much. She jumped to the ground and sat beside Sally, the two waiting to hear what he had to say.

“It won’t matter what I say, if it’s simply to eliminate a threat.” He glanced upward, but his demeanor had changed. He was different and thinking differently than ever before.

Milo grinned knowingly at the two small dogs who faced the alligator alone as he stepped aside. It was their show.

Delph grinned in appreciation. “I’ve never had a friend, much less any like you all. I have sort of fended for myself, and when I escaped, I vowed to never get caught again and to have nothing to do with anyone else. They never lived long anyway.” He drooped at the sad thoughts racing through his mind.

Buttons spoke up as she watched the transformation taking place before her. “We’ll be your friends and we are not about to disappear. You’ll have a lot of friends here. But you have to learn the rules of the swamp. It won’t be easy.”

“Gosh,” Delph said as he looked from Buttons to Sally. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

Now, it would be unfair to suggest that Delph lacked a sense of gratitude, or that he harbored and thoughts of treachery. However, it had been a long day; his stomach was growling unmercifully, and well, alligators are still alligators. His honor should not be impugned at this time either, for clearly, he was not acting in the least bit precipitously, considering his inner turmoil, and his great brown eyes contained no hint of Machiavellian cunning. He was simply hungry, and now to make it worse, he was facing a situation he had never thought about. Friends? Actual friends with whom he could talk.

He wanted to cry, but he didn’t. He was an alligator, after all. He simply nodded. “I’ll do it. I’ll be the best friend you ever had.” He looked at Ssserek and Milo. “Really, I mean it. I promise.”

Buttons hopped on Delph’s snout and stalked up to his eyes, peering intently into each, one at a time. “I believe you.”

Ssserek interjected softly, “Delph, you must do as you promise. You can’t win with this bunch otherwise. You do know that?”

Delph grinned hugely, with real joy lighting his eyes. “Yes, yes, I do know. And, thank you all.” His nodding in agreement to Ssserek made Buttons bounce up and down, and at the same time, sat Sally back on her back.

They all laughed aloud, Milo’s bellow shaking the nearest trees and making the forest ring. Buttons slid off after one more lick which made Delph blink with sudden emotion.

Milo turned and began making his way back to the grazing field when Buttons and Sally stopped him with a shout. Racing up to him, they both sat before him and stammered their thanks.

“It was very kind of you, Milo,” said Sally.

“We’ll see you again, soon?” asked Buttons.

Delph made his way up to them. “You were great, Milo. You all are.”

Milo would have blushed had he been able to do so. Instead, he bowed, first to Ssserek and then to the two dogs whose eyes glittered with emotion and appreciation. Finally, he nodded to Delph, whose tail thumped the ground in pure happiness and joy.

Delph nodded to the two dogs. “I have to leave now, if you don’t mind.” He turned to Milo. He had never thought of it before, but this was the greatest day of his life. He didn’t quite know what to do. Then, he simply blurted out, “I’ve gotten to know the swamp pretty well. Uh, would you like some great food? I know where the biggest patch of swamp grass that ever was is. Unexpected emotion welled up in his chest, but Sally and Buttons were grinning, sharing his emotion and his marvelous intent. “Well, you know what I mean.” Delph’s voice dwindled as he looked at the moose.

Milo grinned in return. “I know exactly what you mean. Lead the way, old buddy. We both have some eating to do.”

Buttons and Sally watched with mixed emotions as the two moved swiftly offshore. They couldn’t follow, but it had been a swell day. One that they would not forget. Both made their way to Ssserek where he lay coiled. “I guess its time for us to go, too, Ssserek. Thanks again.”

He watched their rapid departure. He looked out over the quiet swamp, listening to the small sounds of bird and insect. “Yessss, time to call it quits,” he sighed.

The End

Buttons and Great
Horde of Rats

Buttons had gone to her favorite spot in the Great Field early in the afternoon, expecting to meet Sally, her beagle friend. Ssserek, the great serpent was not present, so she sat, watching and listening. The wind was low and brought few messages with it. The Great Forest in the distance was silent. It was too early for the hawks to be soaring overhead. Even the bugs were few. Quiet, it was so quiet that she finally lay down.

But she really didn’t want to, and moved about restlessly. The dreaded dreams had returned; they were increasingly difficult to manage by herself. Sally’s absence made it ever harder, more difficult than ever before. She didn’t like them, and shrank from the night, fearing that when she slept, they would be there. But she was young, and like the young, must sleep when fatigued. And, she had become very fatigued of late. She started to lie down, but got up again and moved about the rocky knoll, sniffing here and there, trying to forget, trying to keep her mind off the dreams. She sat once again, only to stand, stretch, and then yawn. What was keeping Sally? Buttons needed her now, but she was late.

She moved to the flattest part of the small knoll, where Ssserek liked to sun himself in the afternoons. She sat as a butterfly flitted slowly by, turning and twisting as they did. She lay down as she watched the small bug moved about, just in front of her nose. She slept.

Like the butterfly in flight, her dreams were erratic at first, but then she began to run. Anywhere, it didn’t matter, she had to get away.

Run, Buttons, run. His high-pitched squeal urged her on. Run, little dog, run.

She was running, running as fast as her heart could bear, running, and running. But she didn’t seem to move. The horizon was flat and brown, wavering ever so slightly. Strange, there was no sound, but the bushes swayed, their limbs swinging to and fro in what must be a strong wind. But there was none. No noise, no wind. Just running, and running, and running. She couldn’t stop, or the pain would begin. She couldn’t look behind. They might be there. Her legs moved, her nose was to the ground, but the rocks and dust were always the same. They never changed. They were always in the same spot. Great rocks, towering over her, small rocks and stones spread among the bushes, dust hanging in the air, clogging her nose. Her chest hurt, her breathing became faster and faster. Still nothing happened. She hesitated. She couldn’t keep on going. She must stop.

She glanced behind. And then, they were there. Red eyes, small at first, unwinking, red eyes growing larger and larger. They were following. They were catching up. She cried out. But no sound escaped her lips. She shuttered as she began to run faster again, faster and faster. The world was smooth, flat, all the same around her. Just the eyes and Buttons. Angry eyes, evil eyes, mean eyes. They didn’t blink. They just stared at her as they filled the sky. The horizon disappeared into red, unblinking eyes. They began to whirl and eddy around her. The bushes reached for her, red, angry eyes hanging from them, whipping to and fro in their evil hatred of all life but their own.

The eyes began to change, drifting toward one another. They merged, melting into one another, slowly at first, and then faster, and faster, and faster, keeping pace with the small dog’s flashing legs. Then, they moved ahead. Laughter, evil laughter was there. Though she couldn’t hear it, she could feel it. She wanted to cringe, but wouldn’t They would never make her do that. She started to lift her head, to slow down, but couldn’t. The eyes wouldn’t let her as they swiftly became one, a single large red, angry eye. Then suddenly there were two, flanking a long, gray snout, surrounded by grinning teeth. No, not that. There were fangs, and then teeth, flashing back and forth beneath the two unblinking eyes.

A rat—thin, ribs prominent in his scrawny sides, his belly shrunken with hunger—stood before her. Buttons attacked without thinking, her sharp teeth ripping a scream of pain from the rat. It whirled and tried to toss her off, but she hung on tenaciously, digging her paws into the ground, forcing the rat down onto its side.

Then, he, the Great Rat leader, was there. She let go of the first and attacked, even though he was as big as she was. He smelled dead and moldy. Large, gray, with unblinking, evil, red eyes, he smelled, always the same. Loathsome creature though he was, he was strong, and her leap barely budged him. Suddenly, she was pulled off the rat by another, and was surrounded by many rats who laughed and tittered to one another in their cruel language. Their eyes were red, and as the rats hunched down, they waited, daring her to come at them again. The first rat slunk back into the crowd, his tail dragging on the ground in defeat.

The King Rat was the largest rat of all, and he smiled all of the time, his teeth and eyes glittering as he watched her. He moved through the other rats as though they weren’t there. At first, he said nothing, but when he did, it was a whispering hiss, laughter, in the back of his throat, hatred in his eyes.

The other rats began to chitter as he spoke. “Well, what do we have here, my friends?” He would swing his head from side to side each time he said something, waiting for the others’ hateful responses. “My, but what a big puppy we have here. How grown she is, sending one of us sneaking off with his tail on the ground.” His voice rose in a shriek. “You’ll regret that, little puppy!” His voice suddenly dropped and he looked at her again, his eyes never leaving hers. They were horrible, the meanness, and, yes, the hunger, that was always there.