Rafe the Racoon

Sandy the Squirrel and Sam the Squirrel were sitting under an oak tree. Sandy was leaning her head on Sam as he fed her an acorn. Rafe the Racoon was watching them from behind a mulberry bush. His eyes were bloodshot. His heart was pounding. He rose on his hind legs to count how many acorns they had left, and winced as a searing pain flashed in his hind leg. He knelt back down. He had seen a few acorns - four, maybe five. Sandy's eyes were closed, and Sam kissed her on the forehead. 

Rafe sprinted at them. The pain flashed again in his hind leg - Mac the Monkey had hurt him - but Rafe didn't slow down. Sam and Sandy looked up in shock. Rafe raised his paws and screeched. Sam grabbed Sandy and they scurried away. Even two against one, how can a squirrel fight a a full-grown racoon?

Rafe counted the acorns. Not much. His hind leg was throbbing, and Rafe sat down. 

"Only three?"

Rafe looked up and saw Oscar the Owl. Oscar's head was turned at an angle - he never looked straight ahead. 

"Yeah." said Rafe. "That fat pig Sandy must have eaten a lot of them."

Oscar turned his head to the left. "I saw a few kits under the weeping willow. They usually have a few."

Rafe looked at the sun and judged it was two hours from setting. He stared into the forest.

"You can still make it." said Oscar. "I'll bring these back for you. Under the cypress."

How did Oscar know that? The goddamn creep had been following him, Rafe realized.

"Of course. I'll go to the weeping willow".

"And you'll let me spend some time with Rachel, right?" 

"Of course, Oscar. That's the deal". He looked at Oscar's stomach. It was fat and disgusting. And his voice was so high and squeaky. Unlike other male owls, whose voices were usually deep and commanding. The thought of him touching Rachel made Rafe want to vomit.

Rafe gave the three acorns to Oscar, who nodded, spread his wings, and took off. The wind blew across Rafe's fur. 

Rafe scampered towards the weeping willow. Only half-speed, on account of his hind leg, which seemed to insist that all this physical activity was the most outrageous thing in the world. Rafe wondered what he'd find at the willow. Often the kid squirrels are left on their own, but sometimes they have adults watching over them. And that weirdo Candy the Cottontail sometimes looked after them, too. Randy would need his hind leg if he had to deal with Candy.

By the time Rafe reached the willow the sun was close to setting. His heart was still pounding. There were six kits playing under the willow. No sign of Candy. Rafe counted six acorns in a pile near the kits. But there might be more nearby. There was only one adult, Beverly the Racoon, and she was laying on a rock. 

No problem, thought Rafe. He sprinted at them and screeched. The kits started screaming and ran towards Beverly who rose to her feet and screeched back at Rafe. She lept forward and scratched Rafe in the face. Really? thought Rafe. His hind leg suddenly felt fine. He swiped his paw and slashed Beverly's face. She fell to the ground and two of the kits jumped on his back. 

Rafe shook the kits off. And scampered to Beverly, who was trying to crawl away, and stomped on her head, then picked her up and threw her into a mulberry bush. She won't forget this lesson anytime soon, thought Rafe. 

The rest of the kits ran away, but Rafe grabbed one and pinned him to the ground. Rafe's eyes were red, his body was thin and gaunt, and his breath was sour from not eating in three days. "Where's the rest of the acorns?" The little runt squirmed and Rafe pressed his paw into his forehead. 

"There's some by the sparrow's nest". the kit squeaked.

"You lying to me?" Rafe pressed harder against the kit's forehead.

"No, I swear, I'm not".

"If you're lying, do you know how easy it will be for me to find you again? You think Beverly will protect you?" Rafe gestured towards Beverly, who was still lying in the mulberry bush. "Or your father? Or that idiot Candy?". He pressed just a little harder on the kit's forehead. "I'll rip Candy's goddamn head off". 

The kit was sweating, and his eyes were closed, and he was crying, too. "I swear mister, I swear, we have about a dozen there".

Rafe's eyes widened a little. A dozen? He let the kit go and began climbing the birch tree next to the willow. The little kit scampered away at about the speed of light. Rafe reached the sparrow's nest and looked around. He didn't see any acorns. A flash of rage went through him, and then panic. Had the little kit lied to him? He thought of the tears that had been streaming down his face, wincing in pain. No way he was lying. Rafe looked again - and nestled in a groove in the trunk, almost hidden into the tree, was the familiar dark brown of acorn shells. Rafe pulled them out and counted. The hole was deeper than it looked. He couldn't believe it. There were eighteen. The sun was just about to set, but there was time.

When Rafe reached the cypress bush, Maxxy the Squirrel and Mac the Monkey were already waiting there. Maxxy was wearing his rimless glasses, and his wool sweatervest. Very clean and sharp. Mac had his usual smug expression on his face. How I'd like to rip the smile off his face, thought Rafe. 

"I got them. All of them."

Maxxy's eyes widened a little. He looked relieved.

"Do you really?" Said Mac. He drew out the "really". His voice was as smug as his face.

Rafe dropped the eighteen acorns at Maxxy's feet, who smiled. 

"See, Rafe, it wasn't really so much, was it?" said Maxxy.

Rafe looked at him, in wonder.

"I only see eighteen" said Mac.

"The rest are behind you - under the bush". Rafe crawled to the cypress bush. He did not limp, because he did not want Mac to see that his hind leg was still hurt. He pulled back the branches to show the remaining forty acorns - and there was nothing there. Did I put them somewhere else? He poked his head through the bush, in a panic, and saw the dirt where they had all been.

Mac put his paw on Rafe's back. Rafe stepped back.

"It was Oscar. That bastard..." Rafe was staring at the roots of a nearby tree.

"What was that?" asked Mac 

Rafe sat down, and said nothing.

"Do you know how much you've embarrassed me, Rafe?" said Maxxy. His voice was soft. Rafe laid down flat on his back. Maxxy was small for a squirrel. Rafe could bite his head off. Two, maybe three chomps. But Rafe wouldn't make it halfway to him, with Mac there.

"My father was right about rodents like you. You live for another day, not for any sense of purpose." Maxxy shook his head. "I should have known better". 

He nodded at Mac.

"I don't want to ever see him again".

And Maxxy walked away. Rafe was on his back, looking up at the sky.

Mac took a step forward, and Rafe rose to his feet. Mac stopped and smiled. If his monkey face were capable of smiling. He wanted a fight. Mac wasn't a very big monkey, but he was still a monkey. 

Of course I can't outrun him, thought Rafe. He pressed down one last time on his hind legs, and sprang at Mac. He caught Mac off-guard - in his entire life, Mac had never been attacked by a racoon. Mac fell down on his back - the pain in Rafe's hind leg was gone - and Rafe dug his teeth into Mac's face. He really ripped into it. Then Rafe heard a screech unlike any he had ever heard before, and felt a bone crush in his spine. Suddenly Mac was on top, with his beady little eyes and his fangs bared - and some blood on his face - and then he started ripping Rafe's face off. 

The struggle didn't last very long at all. At one point Rafe did break out of Mac's grasp, and scurried a few steps away, bleeding profusely. The last thing Rafe saw before Mac pulled him back in, was that the sun had set.