Animals and Crackers

8/14/2019 Animals and Crackers

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Animals and Crackers

byAlan Reynolds


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Animals and Crackers

All stories, poems and cover illustration

copyright 2008 by Alan Reynolds

All rights reserved

including the right to reproduce this book or portions

thereof

in any form whatsoever.

Poems by Alan Reynolds are also published

in US and UK magazines

and literary journals

and

on the Internet.

www.alanreynolds.nl
http://www.alanreynolds.nl/http://www.alanreynolds.nl/


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Preface

Snkaes Tale was written in response to assignments to usenine given phrases in nine different 500-word stories. I used

the phrases as titles as well as in each story, and also madethem into a series or chapters for a book about my friendsSnkae and Waldorf.

One story in the set, Eleven Seconds, indulges Waldorfsfascination with unusual plurals for animals: a brace ofhounds, a cete of badgers, etc. The other stories are bognormal, straightforward reporting of down-home life.

Skunked is a short collection of short poems about Rasputin,

an even shorter skunk

ACR

Monnickendam


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Contents

Snkaes Tale 2

A Frayed Scarf 3A Whisper in the Dark 5

Eleven Seconds 7

False Bottom 9

The Scholar Ship

An Unbroken Glass 14

Thermostat Wars

Six Chairs, No Waiting 18

If I Had a Hammer 20

Waldorfs Words 22

Skunked 23

Rasputin Flees Unjust Accusers 24

Rasputin in Gym Class 25Rasputin Hangs It Up 26

Rasputin Meets M. Suvee 27

Rasputin Skunked 28


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Snkaes Tale

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A Frayed Scarf

A frayed scarf, a quick meal, the bird jammed twice goingdown the alligators throat, leaving wings broken back, blackfeathers wet and scattered, and tempers and nerves, thealligators and Toms, frayed.

Tom, afraid not only of losing his own lunch but also a handor foot, watched where the cormorant had been. He watchedthe alligator watching him, measured the reptiles length byeye. Six feet and growing, long as a grave is deep. Hewished he had stayed on at the bank, had not taken thisoutdoor job.

His nostrils told him when the alligator constricted thecormorant. That fish that bird had been ripe.

LENGTH. Tom wrote down in his notebook his estimate of thealligators length. MARKINGS. He saw none not shared by all theother alligators here on Sanibel Island. IDEALS.

Ideals? The normal run of what passes for thinking here?Tom squinted through his sweat, turned the notebook to

different angles. Ideals was printed on the form. He wouldhave to fill in something if he wanted to get paid for todayswork. It was already late morning and he would not havetime to find another large animal to meet the days surveyquota. What was wanted? What would suffice?

The alligator though still on the log seemed closer, moreaware of Tom. Ask it, Tom told himself. He did. What areyour ideals?

Nothing. He called out his question more loudly. The green-black eyes stayed on him and the alligator belched, a little.Wood-peckers went into overtime, ratcheting up the pre-nooncacophony, singing racial memories of moccasins with white,white mouths.

It was more than just the heat. The alligator cleared itsthroat, in a matter of speaking and began just that:speaking. I thought no one would ever ask, it said. I dohave a few.

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Tom moved back the foot he feared for the most, feeling thewater swirl where his boot had been and hoping the motionwas his, not a snakes. What to say? Yes? he tried.

Ideals. I have a few, the alligator continued. Never eating

cooked food. Voting with my tail. Outweighing what I hunt.Why?

Its a survey, Tom told it. The state hired me to look forwhat is lacking in the state.

Depth? asked the alligator. Ideals? Alligators out on theflats in bone boats?

I dont know. I just track the Sanibel creatures, watch them,

fill in the forms in this notebook.Show me, said the alligator, swinging only, Tom hoped, itshead in his direction. They both stood their ground, heldtheir water.

Stay there, Tom screeched. The alligator slid in the water,a little closer.

Im cool, it said. Ideals? Do you read Thomas Nagel? I

dont, but the woodpeckers think the world of his What It IsTo Be A Bat.

The pool between them seemed smaller. Black feathersmussed the alligators enunciation. It seemed a small thingto notice, but Tom did.

He tried to step back, but looked back first, and saw thealligators mother. Or uncle. Or grandfather. Ideally hewould have outweighed them each.

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A Whisper in the Dark

The green drink drunk from an unbroken glass

makes losing of the scholarship less grim.False bottom from intoxications pass

at courage sounds a whisper in the dark.

A thermostat wars with his unwired skull

in which six chairs, no waiting, have been lost.

The If I had a hammer student snores

Eleven Seconds He will take no firsts.

Stephen woke hot. Facedown on the fraternity room leathersofa, not a good olfactory choice. The snake, the one he

usually saw, regarded him from the floor, eyes left, like atitular head of department relegated to a mere mention.

The snake spoke to Stephen in a parenthetical whisp.

Excuse me? grogged Stephen.

Would you like one?

One what?

A whisp! A flock of snipe! Werent you hunting snipe againlast night, being ringleader for the snipe hunt?

An ant crawled over Stephens tongue hed left out to drywhile he slept. Overriding ant-ethical antithetical parentalcontrols, Stephen bit the ant and (parenthetically) his tongue.O antithesis of God, thou evil serpent! he shouted.

Pathetic, lisped the snake. Want a whisp quickie? Aquacker? Talking like parrots, are we now?

Where? Snipes? lolled Stephen, refreshed and shamed of itby his own blood (a parenthetical excursion eschewing futuretongue bites and the mentioning of other fun topics).

Shurly sound bites, replied the snake. The snipe is in thepastry and the flock has six chairs waiting.

Thats a lot of chairs, said Stephen, not really up to earlyafternoon conversations.

S! said the snake in what Stephen, who failed languages,thought was Spanish. Muchos charros. Carisma.

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Maybe Agnes of God, thought Stephen. He said, Is thereanything to drink? Flock, hock, hooch?

The snake (whose name is Snkae) said, Why dont you callme Snkae? I can read minds but with you that does not work

so you have to say what you mean.OK, said Stephen. Snkae (how easy to type!), where isthis all going? How about a beer?

Probably, answered Snkae, into Theology since Logicseems beyond you. How do you like, In the Phi Delt housethere are many masons? Or, How many Moses-treatedserpents do Morris dances on the Headmasters pen?

Stephen raced for the head, regrouped, got off the sofa andeventually off the floor and raced again more effectively thistime for the head.

Snkae followed, stopping halfway to ponder how Hawking, onrecanting what he had purported for thirty years, had beenlionized, not fired. Too parenthetical by far, Snkae thought.Hearing Stephen returning, he coiled, hooded, waited.

Stephen had, among other parentheses, showered. He feltbetter now, almost up to dying. He thought about higherthings: snipes, girlfriends of his brothers, the fiction offraternity, fraternity suits.

From somewhere not quite in sight came a snakes sibilantsneering string of saliva sated syllables: Want, er, a whisp,er, in the dark?

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Eleven Seconds

The scaup duck is a flocking fowl.

Language! cried the snake.I can only read whats printed on this menu, the alligatoranswered, then went quiet, he thought, as that braveSpartan lad suffering a fox to gnaw his vitals.

Why are you moaning like that? Snkae asked him.

The alligator twitched his tail, taking care not to knock Snkaeinto the log they were both treading water next to. So much

then for his Gary Cooper beau ideal. What are youreading? he asked Snkae.

The same menu as you, Waldorf. The same menu aseveryday here, written for us by little gods painting goodSanibel air with aroma calligraphics that stand out like thetied-off veins of a long-time heroin aficionado.

Right, then, said Waldorf in what may have been answer.What do you fancy?

The scalps are good. Mind you, Im speaking Scots. Musselsalways start a lunch off right.

What I would like, said Waldorf, would be a feast. I couldstart with your suggestion as a first then have elevenseconds. How do these sound? Lets have them all. A ceteof badgers caught at odds with shore. A driftof hogs adriftwithout a paddle.

I am all unhinged, said Snkae. Well have a binge. A castof red leg hawks who took a bevyof roe deer just before theswamp took them.

Coot covert, Waldorf chortled, getting hooked. A kindle ofMaine Coon Cat kittens.

Please! said Snkae, not as a reprimand. Its good to knowan alligator with ideals. How about this: spring mysterylitterof multiparous swamp mammal?

That sounds, said Waldorf, multifarious. Add somecollards and youre on. By now he was not just hungry butalso larking about in exaltation.

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A meal to murderfor, crowed Snkae, getting into the swingof things as only something that sheds its own skin can.Something to bank on!

They observed a moment of silence, remembering ex-banker

Tom. Then Waldorf said, as if he were reading the menu,The shrewdness of apes is overrated.

The tide, not counting storms, is negligible on the island, anda driveway that supports one snake and one alligator andone Jeep Grand Cherokee sees additional fauna as forage.Except in the middle, the driveway was not all that deep andSnkae and Waldorf were often forced to leave it for what itwas, which was not what the real-estate agent had claimed,

and to swamping into the swamp next door for monsterfeeds.

Remember, asked Snkae, that lunch your uncle threw?Half the neighbors kennel, peacock muster.

Shurly mustard, answered Waldorf.

Surely not. And being snide, Snkae added, Pheasantnide.

Then Waldorf, idealistic to a fault line Snkae had just crossed,erupted from the water and consumed the skulkof verminSnkae had had his eye on.

Sord, said Snkae, maladroit at catching mallards andseeing he was going to go hungry this lunch.

Language, said Waldorf, primly, and belched, a little.

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False Bottom

Snkae woke cold, belly down on the fraternity room leathersofa, not a good matrimonial mattress move. False bottom,he lisped, was it good for you then?

Aaargh, said a heavy voice off to his left.

Snkae opened an eye, one of his own, used it unwisely. Hesaw Waldorf too nearby, dripping on the rich but dirty carpetand holding up the unusual umbrella he carried whentraveling. Waldorf, he said coldly, what are you doinghere?

I wont ask you the same, retorted Waldorf loftily forsomeone with such short legs. What a trip. What a campus.What a long walk!

I wouldnt know, said Snkae.

Course not, said Waldorf. You were transported. Called upby that absinthe Stephen drinks when his parents monthlycheck arrives. Where is Stephen?

Snkae took care to look around before answering. Goodquestion, he said. He belched, a little.

Bad as I suspected, said Waldorf. Luckily for us only thecampus police trying are to put two and two together, theopposite of their usual task. People are talking, wonderingwhy there are fewer other people around these last days.Doing head counts and coming up short the odd Tom andStephen.

Odd, said Snkae.Odd how? said Waldorf.

Pickled, probably. Not too bad.

Shake a leg, Snkae. We have to get back to the swamp.

Snkae looked cold-bloodedly coldly at the alligator thenslithered off the leather. Went back and did it all again.There, he said. Farewell, false bottom. He followedWaldorf to where the door had been until the alligatorsarrival. They went outside.

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It was raining cats and dogs. They had a few and continuedrefreshed.

It was Monday morning and fifteen minutes before the firstclass so the campus was deserted. In an hour or two the first

students would be waking, introducing themselves andthinking about partying or lunch. The dean dozed in herstudy and the maids played virtual reality games on theairspeed campus network.

Shurly high-speed, said Waldorf.

What? said Snkae.

Sorry, said Waldorf. I was talking and didnt hear.

The university teacher (more than one would have beenredundant) glanced outside, saw the two large reptiles, anddecided not to teach this week. He pulled the sheet of paperout of the university typewriter and threw the paper on thefloor, picked it up and wadded it up and threw it down again,like authors did in films hed seen, wondering why.

The snake and the alligator continued marching to themarshes, across the huge campus, across the huge gardenssurrounding the campus, across the gigantic athletic centersurrounding the gardens, across the vast sports stadiumsurrounding the athletic center, and into the swamp thatencompasses all.

You have great power of endurance, Waldorf, Snkae saidfalsely, like a river horse of good bottom.

You are thinking of hippos, said Waldorf. They can be

good when little, or long dead.Lightning struck a cypress, sticking it to a whisp of snipeseeking shelter there.

Where are we? said Snkae. Its good to be home. Heswam and slithered to where the tree had been andconsumed the crispy birds. Cant let them go cold. Why areyou waving your umbrella?

I am not waving it. I am holding it up. It is made from agenuine two-iron, said Waldorf. I hate lightning.

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God made all this, said Snkae, waving whatever he could atthe driving rain, the rippling water, the wind, the lightingbolts coming thicker and faster, the last bits of crispy snipe.

Waldorf held up his umbrella as high as he could, and said,

Even God cant hit a two-iron.

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The Scholar Ship

Tuesday morning early the Sanibel sun rose on the back ofthe night rain. Saltwater fish who had felt at home in thedriveway got the message and swam back across the roadand into the Gulf. The rain departed taking the Jeep GrandCherokee with it. The university teacher came out the frontdoor in jungle boots and a rage and splashed after thefloating jeep.

Pitiful, burbled Waldorf, up to his snout in the cultivatedswamp the teacher called lawn.

He often does that, answered Snkae. He always loses,then the rain takes pity on him and returns the jeep. Or thetide does.

I meant pitiful, how he looks, said Waldorf. He shouldwear more than just boots for his morning fitness run.

Hes in a rage.

But not the rage.

Snkae turned his back, as it were, on Waldorfs clumsiness ofdiction, hoping he would not tell another joke. He lisped,God cant hit a two-iron, indeed. Snkae waited, got histiming right, then slithered aside just as the alligator tried tobite him. Maintaining the easy relationship common amonglong-time swamp predators, they hissed and glared at eachother.

The university teacher ran by them and into the house and

out again in blind panic, chinos, Izod shirt and bowtie. Imlate, Im late, Im late, they heard him scream.

The late professor? Waldorf asked Snkae.

Naw, said Snkae. hes too skinny. If he disappeared theproperty developers would get this place, and conserve it likethey conserve all old properties: instant high-rise on the tideline and where would you and I be? Why cant he just onetime wear a snake shirt?

Did you, said Waldorf, say gnaw?

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No, said Snkae. They watched the teacher wait tensely,timing himself to catch the jeep on the next incoming wave.

Pitiful, said Waldorf. Cant he tell its not floating? Thatthis is rain water, about eight inches deep?

Sensing a pause in the swirls, the teacher leaped for therunning board and, because the jeep didnt have one,bloodied his nose on the door, opened it, the door, andclimbed into the seat.

I wonder what he teaches, said Snkae.

Fistic something, I think, Maybe gnu leer fistic. AskStephen, laughed the alligator.

Still have that cold, do you? sneered Snkae. Does he everlook around? The teacher? Ever greet us, his neighbors?

They watched the teacher curse and kick and jump around inthe jeep, which suddenly started. Smoke billowed. Thedriveway surface dried near as damming permitted, and theScholar Ship, for that was the name painted on the jeepsside, roared up toward the road.

Watch its wake, hissed Snkae, and they did, seining theminnows and frogs and general green debris they hoped wasfood into their breakfast-loving, cold-blooded but hotwiredselves.

Out on the little road the teacher turned the Scholar Shiponto the other little road that was the main highway to FortMyers and headed off to teach if the student might turn up inclass today. He hummed a little to whatever the airconditioning was singing and told himself he was happy.

Rain fell silent and silently and away, and the sun consumedhis nightmares while he drove.

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An Unbroken Glass

The university teacher was early after all. There was notraffic going off the island at this time of morning and theScholar Ship sailed past the thousands of vehicles coming on-island: the maids and gardeners and cooks and all the otherpeople arriving to service, as it were, Sanibels tourists andaffluent residents.

The teacher smiled although, as often, he was not sure whichpart of the thought made him do so. Then he laughed intothe mildew forming on the leather dashboard as he zoomedover the high bridge to the mainland, knowing why this time.No way that horrible alligator and snake can follow me overthis bridge

Not on our short little legs, said Snkae wryly.

Four Roses, said Waldorf. They lay together inespeciallyin Snkaes caseunarmed truce in the back of the ScholarShip as it pulled into in the teachers reserved parking spaceoutboard of those for the deans and maids and lawyers and

counselors and paying students.What? asked Snkae.

Four Roses. Its a rye. Cant buy it anymore. Cant stomachit. But the teacher can and does. He tells the Dean its aroborant which keeps her from telling him he cant drink it.

Because roborants are good?

Because she wont admit she cant look up what roborant

means.The teacher got out, locked the doors, and walked the hotmile to the front of the new, drug-funded Academic Temple.He admired the Homo sapiens non urinat in ventuminscription carved on its facade, then went round to theservants entrance and his office.

The snake and alligator let themselves down through theScholar Ships large (well, it would be) rust hole in the tirewell and went around to the main entrance and into thesawgrass to watch unobserved what might come along.

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The sun baked off a fresh batch of mosquitoes and sent themflying for shade. Puppies gamboled and lost. Waldorfbelched, a little.

Snkae felt unwell. Can the cold-blooded have fever? he

asked.West Nile, said Waldorf. Might as well laugh about whatyou cant cure.

No, said Snkae.

Of course not, said Waldorf. He was paying attention not toSnkae but to the delivery van. Snkae noticed and perked up.

The driver opened up the back and removed two large cases

of sterile rats for the Biology Lab.Do your mating call, Waldorf! Snkae said, Quick.

Not alone, Id go blind.

Do it, lisped the snake.

Waldorf roared, sort of, and the driver screamed, very muchof, and ran into the lab.

Box lunches, beamed Snkae. Lets tie one on.Later back in the sawgrass Waldorf, feeling ratted on, asked,Did you notice the label on those boxes: Sawgrass FloridasCool New Destination Is Hot?

Yes, answered Snkae. Damn humans are ruining theAtlantic side of the swamps as well as here on the Gulf. Iwish we could eat more of them. Did you say West Nile?

The snake and the alligator belched, a little, and followed the

driver into the Biology lab. Unsurprised that no one wasthere they took the cold buffet marked Specimens andmoved on to the warm.

I feel a joke coming on, said Waldorf.

Youll go blind, said Snkae. What will happen, do youthink, to the general happiness in the universe if we freethese viruses they keep here behind an unbroken glass?

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Thermostat Wars

The Dean did not have a faculty for meetings, so when hisclass ended the university teacher was free to go back toSanibel. Enthusiastic to a fault, he looked forward to comingback next week, seeing if the student might come to classthis semester. He waved to the other academicstheuniversity was proud of having as many researchers asassistant coachesand proceeded across the parking acresto his space. The sun was out with a vengeance and a vigoras if this were its first time to notice this particular earth andthe teacher stopped to wonder.

The rains had cleaned the Scholar Ship to what at high noonpassed for a mirror finish and he caught his own reflection,tried to throttle it, and thenthumbs jammed only slightlychilled out, did that hair flick he so admired the Scots girldoing on that ancient Prince video. His gray ponytail, on theforward part of the gesture, covered his balding crown nicelybut the ends hurt his eyes. Nice lass, he remembered outloud, choking back a tear he thought was nostalgia and

failing to notice Snkae and Waldorf in the back of the jeep.Maybe if I published something I could get a research jobhere, and a raise, and stop my night classes on the island.

The ride home passed in third for the jeep, something to dowith a transmission problem, and in torpor for the snake andalligator, something to do with lab animals the PETA nolonger had to worry about freeing. The teacher played Dr.

John and sang along about Babylon, feeling more affinity

than was accepted on campus. Snkae and Waldorf,marveling the teacher still had ears, dozed and belched, alittle. The air conditioner did yeoman duty following its ownthermostat wars that it would certainly have won had notWaldorf disconnected the controls.

Now thatis a Management System, sneered Snkae. Itwould be hard to model corporations better than you didhere, Waldorf.

What, said Waldorf, a bark not a question. Once over thebridge, the teacher turned on the cruise control and all three

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of the Scholar Ships occupants dozed down the real roadsand the almost real roads all the way home.

Brown pelicans turned lazy circles into a mind-bending torusand into another mind-bending torus, not knowing the plural.

An osprey sat proudly on a motels TV aerial imagining shewas doing her part blocking news coverage, realizing FoxNews already did that.

A very large alligator, Waldorfs uncle, turned his back on thejeep as it slipped to a halt in the home waters of theteachers driveway. Small birds cried for lost opportunitiesthey had hatched hoping for angels.

The teacher went inside the house and Waldorf and Snkaesplashed after Waldorfs uncle to check out the newneighbors who had moved in last week, taking over anabandoned genteel home and fencing it with eight-foot-highchain link topped with a tearful mlange of broken Coorsbottles.

The three left the fence for what it was and swam along thecanal and onto the lawn.

Shurly tasteful, or tasty, not tearful, said Waldorf,eyeing the six ferocious guard dogs racing toward them.

Snkae drew the line at pit bulls, then Waldorf and his unclecrossed it.

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Six Chairs, No Waiting

The pit-bull scarfers lost little time getting back into theswamp. Waldorfs uncle continued on deeper into the oozefor some cormorants while Snkae and Waldorf pulled in underthe palmettos of the teachers yard. They heard an angryvoice.

Du Lac? Du Lac whut?

Pushing aside just enough sawgrass to see what the teachersaw, Snkae saw the teacher sawing off the legs of a tallkitchen table. A huge man was holding up the table in one

gigantic fist.Impressive, how the table stays so still, said Waldorf behindSnkae. What language is that man speaking?

Native, I should think, answered Snkae. Or mock native,like the governor speaks when he knows he is recordingsound bites for posterity.

Waldorf said, A sound bite is a jaw forever. He said it again,

louder, and the man dropped the table.Do like I say, said the teacher. Im a teacher. Do like I sayand not like I do.

The huge man grunted or something that sounded almostthat intelligent. He picked up the table and grabbed thechainsaw from the teacher and ran at him waving both.

Oh dear me no I dont think so very like that at all, said theteacher a little rushed but only verbally. As calmly as amatador putting the sword to a very-confused-and-about-to-be-delivered-to-McDonalds-soaked-in-own-best-blood bull,the teacher switched the big man gently, putting out hislights.

I told you he was a fistic teacher, exulted Waldorf. Whatstyle, what speed. What an inspiration! Put up your dukes,Snkae, I feel inspired.

No fangs, lisped Snkae, getting into Waldorfs low humor,getting it all. It was not hard to do, just hard to take. Hethrew his coils into a slip-not around Waldorfs jaws and heldthem closed. Sound bite was it? he asked.18


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Waldorf rolled them both into the deeper water of thebackyard, mocked a death roll so hard he roiled the yardskiller bees until their metabolism went into reverse and theair was poor with suckled honey. Snkae just held on and

enjoyed the ride.Waldorf flaked out and sank to the bottom. Snkae let looseand swam back to where the big man was just opening hiseyes, blinking in the spray from the hose the teacher trainedon him. Lets get this straight, said the teacher calmly.You assert that you are my new neighbor, that I have pets,and that my pets came onto your property and ate your pets.Is that it?

The big man nodded, more off than in comprehension, butthe teacher acted like it was an answer. Well, said theteacher, the only pet I have is the parrot indoors, so you andor your conclusions are amiss, astray, awry, counterfactual,fluffed, sophistical, specious, and, in a word, wrong.

He turned his back on the big man and the hose off him andoff. He coiled the hose and laid it on a chair.

Something in Snkae fell in love and he whispered to himself,I wish I could do that. Maybe there is a heaven, and you aregreeted there with six hoses of your choice, all singing HosieAnnas and lying there in six chairs, with no waiting.

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If I Had a Hammer

The afternoon wore on hot and sticky like a shower curtainmelted onto a bather who had pulled a radio into the tubwhile reaching for one last margarita. Woodpeckers sufferingpilea meltdown from exposure to the Sanibel sun bangedtheir heads against mangrove trees for relief and also for thefunky rhythm they got going.

The university teacher lay on the porch floor in a hammockthat had not been as securely screwed up as he was.

Snkae lay in shallow water where the bottom front step used

to be, and Waldorf stayed down in his gator hole screening abook he had eaten. Life was good.

Alligators read by eating, and made no exception for books.Since this book had been missing its cover Endangered andthreatened species, Waldorf thought he was perusing amenu. He read along happily, mentally supplying words heassumed had fallen prey to his puissant gastrics. Floridabobcat bouillabaisse, cotton rat ratatouille, West Indian

manatee with chutney, moody eastern indigo snakemulligatawny... yep, had those. Bouillon of bald eagle,surprise of sea turtle. Ill bet. American crocodile

American Crocodile, he yelped, surfacing suddenly andlooking over both shoulders in a perfect half-gainer thattucked him flat onto Snkae. American Crocodile!

Snkae, the biggest snake Waldorf had ever seen, was notimpressed or even hard pressed to shrug him off. Where?

asked Snkae.On this menu, answered Waldorf, but Snkae would notbuckle down to take a look.

I take your word, said Snkae, but you wont convincehim. They both looked at the porch with its writhinghammock and smiled. They were fond of the teacher, theonly human they had ever liked alive. They watched theteachers Spyderco police knife push through the hammocksfabric then rip it. The teachers head appeared, and onlythen did his eyes open. He looked at them stupidly, and thenwith relief.

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He thought you had et him, lisped Snkae to Waldorf.

More likely you, answered Waldorf, deciding he too hadshown a bit much panic for one afternoon and glad ofdiversion.

The teacher went into the house, cooked something he cameback on the porch and ate. He drank something that wateredthe reptiles eyes. Everything was as always on the smallestate the teacher had inherited it and let go to ruin, andthey all three loved it. They settled down to watch thesunset, but blinked and missed it.

Night fell so hard it hurt itself. Overly hopeful insects struck

up a dawn chorus although most would be et before dawn bythe approaching Cuban tree frogs.

Snkae noticed first, then Waldorf, and they warned theteacher to get to the Scholar Ship. It was more a feeling thansomething they could hear, but it was strong. Where arethe keys? Open the jeep door! yelled Waldorf.

A three-Hummer army from next door bore down, passing thetrio in the dark and unleashing not dogs but rounds of

gunfire.Remembering the last time he had heard an Uzi provided theteacher with more focus than normal in his life and he hit atthe jeeps window. If I had a hammer, he moaned as thefront porch disappeared to a bazooka blast.

Snkae pushed the teacher up the jeeps rusted-out tire well.The keys are in the ignition. Drive!

And, quick as a marsh rabbit doing lines of Cuban frog, withSnkae and Waldorf mostly if not securely on board, that isjust what the teacher did.

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Waldorfs Words

Waldorf , knowing so many animals, likes playing silly devilswith nouns denoting a number of animals, birds, or fishconsidered collectively. Here are some he uses in SnkaesTale:

bevy. a company of roe deer, larks, or quail.

cast. the number of hawks or falcons cast off at one time;e.g. two.

cete. a company of badgers.

covert. a flock of coots.drift. a drove or herd, especially of hogs

exaltation. a flight of larks.

kennel. a number of hounds or dogs housed in one place.

kindle. a brood or litter, especially of kittens.

litter. the offspring produced at a birth by a multiparousmammal.

murder. a flock of crows.

muster. a flock of peacocks.

nide. a brood of pheasants.

shrewdness. a company of apes.

skulk. a congregation of vermin, foxes, or thieves.

sord. a flight of mallards.

whisp. or wisp, a flock of birds, especially of snipe.

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Skunked

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Rasputin Flees Unjust Accusers

I spent an hour rooting through the junk

to find out where Rasputin threw the chunkof clothes hed looked so cute in. Clue: a monk

who watched him wad them up said, Phew, a skunk.

Without this cold Id quickly find his clothes.

Id walk on close as stink behind my nose

then, pausing where it cried and whined, exposethe rags he cast off somewhere in these rows

and piles and curlicues of twisted threads.

Wasp-waisted dresses and short-listed spreads

are strewn in here with blue mould-misted breads

but I cant find the new two-fisted Keds

and the little cap Im sure Rasputin wore.

In an hours search Ive found a boot and more

or less the cape the green-and-fruit man swore

Rasputin wore to loot the candy store.

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Rasputin in Gym Class

Rasputins working out, works on his arms.

He wants to hand-stand when he spreads his charmsbut hes not spotted, little chap gets wiped

out by his bulk. They call him candy striped

down the skunk works where he and his mates

practice blinding canines, use a chair

as target, that they circle, Fred Astaire

alert and agile while they practice, sing,Zout you, baby, zcent dont mean a zing.

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Rasputin Hangs It Up

Rasputins spelling Flower at the chair.

Why chairman but char lady? Zephyr asks.This floors Rasputins shooting, makes him stare

You mist! she laughs, and puts their practice masks

back in Skunk Hollow, name they call the chest

they keep their kit in, theyre not doing shoots.

Rasputins angry, hates not being best.

I cant stand being bettered. Malamutes,pugs, and husky spaniels alter path

to stay upwind of where I screech and churr

but Zephyr stops me sure as higher math.

Her little paws smooth down Rasputins fur

and then they lunch together in the breeze,

have his favorites: honey and the bees.i

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Rasputin Meets M. Suvee

I know what it means, Rasputin, but is it a word?

Rico Suvee tries a hand-stand, looks absurd.No, adds Rico, What you do is grunt.

Dictions not a problem on the hunt

but Zephyrs zest for dating exceeds stew.

Rasputin gives a look: Whos asking you?

Zephyr, Rico answers, looking smooth.

Your bad rhyming, how you tried on couththe time you went to tell her how shes cute

enough (she said you told her) to just shoot.

I SNEEZED, Rasputins soulful eyes grow huge.

Whatever, Rico parries, Subterfuge

sucks eggs and persiflage is greens

but collard skunks dont date no drive-in queens.A febrifuge (my language class) will help

the chance youll have been involved with next yearswhelp.

Rasputin gives M. Suvee six duck eggs

then they trot to class on chalk-striped furry legs.

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Rasputin Skunked

Rasputins tears disturb the limpid lake

till Seor Rico Suavees front paw rakesits surface, and the ripples give away

Rasputins not alone. He turns ash gray

and walks into the dew drenched weeds that grow

so high in June that skunk paths do not show

when their users trot along those trails en route

to breakfast: eggs of waterfowl -- duck, coot.Seor Rico follows, not too closely, till

enough times passed so both skunks can and will

pretend they (neither) know Rasputins cried.

When he turns around, Rasputin is dry eyed.

He flexes, until Rico is impressed

then grins, Hey, Suavee, want an omelet?A real skunk missing Zephyr does not let

on that its something, hey, he can not handle.

Rico waves, says hed like his eggs scrambled.

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Animals and Crackers

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Transcript of Animals and Crackers