BY ELMAR

WARNING:

THIS FOLLOWING SHORT STORY HAS BEEN APPROVED FOR THE FOLLOWING AUDIENCES:

PG-13

MAY INCLUDE HORRIBLE DEATH BY DROWNING AND DISEMBOWELMENT 

The Old Forest was an old wood, full of the sounds of skittering animals in the undergrowth and cows lowing from the nearby farms. On windy days in March you could hear the wind whistling through the trees and sending up spray from the small river into the willows-the wind in the willows, as it was. The smell of old wood, of rotten oak, fallen elm, and a scent that the local children called “Mystery” wafted out and filled the countryside with its irresistible smell. If you looked carefully through the yellow sunlight slicing through the trees on summer days, you might see a deer and her doe, slowly, carefully, and silently moving through the undergrowth. On lonely winter nights on “The Rock”, a bare, rocky hill surrounded by trees, you might see a lone wolf, howling his everlasting hunting song to Mother Moon, a pale orb hanging over the Earth, hearing the howl whether she listened or not. In the spring and summer, The Forest was just begging to be explored. The rough bark of the hickory tree was often seen covered in bear fur. The fat apples hanging from the old apple tree simply dripped with juice when bitten. They were the best apples anyone had ever eaten, and were even better with Mother’s Apple Crumble. In fall, the ground was full of leaves and wasp nests that had fallen in the summer. Then in winter, you went sledding and tromping in the knee-high snow all day until evening, when someone heard a branch crack, cried, “Wolf!” and you all ran screaming and laughing back home.

Now The Owl was the wisest animal in the Forest. But The Cat was the most clever. So when The Wolf was found shot by a gun in the head, they knew that someone would be put to trial over this. But it was a trial that not even The Owl could foresee.

The Wolf had a beautiful funeral, with The Owl and The Cat as the most prominent mourners. Their close rival to supreme mourner was The Fox, who was wailing, “This was not your time”. The Sheep were in great support of this and kept bleating it over and over in parts of our worthy pairs speeches. The Eagle made a speech too, but this one was more about his feathers (They are so shiny) than about The Wolf’s good deeds. The Wolf was buried in a magnificent coffin (It was an old wooden doll carriage from Lucy Meyers down the road) to a slow, sad funeral march played by The Sparrow, on a bell he borrowed from The Cow. The funeral ended and all the animals left, filled with thoughts about their friend (except for The Wolf’s prey, who left thinking how glad they were that he was gone. It makes you wonder how many people go to a funeral thinking the same thing).

Only a week later, the whole forest was in an uproar. The Fox had just reported that he had seen The Owl and Cat attack the cattle and sheep in an effort to frame The Wolf. In less then five minutes, the guilty looking animals had been tied up with pond reeds and put in the hayloft. Then at precisely two fifteen, the trial started, the Honorable Judge Pig presiding.

Court was originally set to start at two, but an incident in which a hen made a nest in the Honorable Judge Pig’s wig took fifteen minutes to straighten out. 

At two fifteen, on the dot, the Honorable Judge Pig tottered up onto his chair behind his desk. He was a big male porker being bred up for the marketplace, or whenever the occupants of the farmhouse might have use for a fat pig in their bellies. The Honorable Judge Pig was fat indeed. He had two greedy little eyes that looked out at the world from in between rolls of fat, flesh, and blood. He had no neck, and his shoulders went on and on to the sides, curving so gradually that if you were to run your hands along him, you would be at his hips before you realized that these were not his shoulders anymore. His legs were much too short to carry his sixty-five kilograms, and on two legs he almost fell as he stumbled and tripped his way to his chair, filled with relief now that his ordeal was over. In one trotter he held a sheaf of paper; in the other, he held a gavel. His large nose, pointed ears, and tuft of hair made him look like a cross of human and pig, and as he stumbled his way to his chair, his eight chins wobbled like homemade jelly. He pulled himself to his feet and surveyed the guilty-looking animals before him. 

The Owl was a large bird, not much bigger than a young pig, with handsome brown feathers flecked with spots of white and gold, and outlined with black. The insides had several black lines, and the farmhouse children loved to collect his feathers. His wings were one hundred and forty eight centimeters long and when he flew overhead at night, you thought he was some hideous monster with fangs and claws and a horrible smile, the beating of his wings was so loud. His chest was three layers of feathers thick. The first layer was white as snow. The second layer was a light fawn brown. The third layer consisted of a few black feathers scattered here and there. His eyes were a dark, transparent brown, surrounded by silver-grey feathers. These feathers continued subtly to his neck, which melted into his torso. The top of his head was a mixture of silver and black feathers, and two feathers which were black and cream, pointed up from his head like ears.

The Cat was a large Birman. His eyes were a piercing ice-blue, and his paws and tail were black. His torso and legs were a pure white, and his claws were full of gore. The mouse from which the gore had come was lying by The Cat’s paws, entrails spilling onto the ground. The Cat looked very pleased with himself as he sucked the blood from The Mouse’s veins. He was famed for his quick tongue, and always knew what to say at any given time.

A description of the crime was laid out: unlawful and intentional intent to influence The Farmer into killing The Wolf(God rest his soul).

Right off the bat, The Cat asked, “Since when has it been unlawful to do this?”

“This morning, when we wrote the laws.”

The Cat asked to see the law book. It was procured and given to him with the warning that “They hadn’t gotten very far.”

The laws read so:

-It is unlawful to intentionally influence The Farmer into killing The Wolf (God rest his soul).

-It is unlawful to pull the Honorable Judge Pig’s tail so that the curl leaves it.

The Cat thanked the Honorable Judge Pig and handed back the laws. The Owl had his own sentiment to add.

“If you wrote these this morning, and we influenced The Farmer into killing The Wolf (God rest his soul) a week ago, then it was not unlawful when we supposedly did it. Which we didn’t.”

The Honorable Judge Pig coughed and called for a ten minute break. Afterwards, The Weasel, who was acting as attorney to The Fox, called his first witness, The Cow.

“Now,” The Weasel blathered. “Who was the attacker? The Cat, I am right.”

“No,” lowed The Cow. “The attacker was The Fox, sure as I-”

“Thank you, Cow, that will do. My next witness is The Fox himself.”

If there was ever any doubt about The Fox, it was cleared up now. With pain evident in his voice, he expounded loudly and at great length the friendship he had had with The Wolf. He spoke of how The Wolf had always been there for him, had always had a good plan in mind, and always shared his food with the barnyard fowl, even when his Sunday night chicken feast was interrupted by hungry chickens. Then, said The Fox, was The Wolf most willing to share. (At these words several chickens fainted and had to be taken away). Then, said The Fox, tears streaming from his treacherous little eyes, these two cruel criminals killed his friend and removed all happiness from his life. At this, the Honorable Judge Pig called a five-minute recess. There were three reasons for this:

1: A mob of animals were trying to stone the two convicts.

2: He was sobbing from the tale put forward by The Fox

3: It was time for lunch

The Honorable Judge Pig then called the defense to the stand for the first time in the trial immediately after lunch. The Hawk was playing as attorney for the two convicts. He then sent such a barrage of insults at the Honorable Judge Pig, threatening to never relent until he passed freedom on the convicts. Almost sobbing, the Honorable Judge Pig nodded. As soon as The Hawk turned to go, two hundred of the mice lept onto him and tied him down. The Hawk stood trial the next day. In less than five minutes, the Honorable Judge Pig sentenced to death by disembowelment. The Owl leapt to his feet and protested, but it was of no use. The Hawk was carried off to his awful death, and that was the last that any animal saw of him.

Both The Cat and Owl glanced around nervously. A large crowd of animals was pushing against the chicken-wire door to the barnyard. Every manner of animals-horses, dogs, sheep-were looking at the two convicts with expressions that ranged from pity to outright hatred.

“And as for you,” leered the Honorable Judge Pig, “I find you guilty of unlawfully and intentionally influencing The Farmer into killing The Wolf, unlawfully hiring an attorney, and unlawfully inducing your attorney into threatening and insulting me.”

“But we did no such thing!” cried The Owl. “And you GAVE us our attorney!”

“A mistake I never should have even considered!” spat the Honorable Judge Pig. “But I digress. May I ask for a vote from the jury?”

The entire jury(made up of cockroaches) raised their feelers.

“So,” said the Honorable Judge Pig. “the jury unanimously finds you guilty of the charges put before you. Therefore, I sentence you to death by drowning.”

“But-” said The Cat.

“ENOUGH!” shouted the Honorable Judge Pig. “You will each be given one day to live, after which you will be drowned in the foot pond in the woods!” He banged his gavel.

This was the final crack in the dam. The crowd of animals, waiting outside the courtroom banged through the fence. All the animals in the forest and farm charged at the convicts. The Mob took them and carried them away.

“DO something!” cried The Cat. “Don’t let them kill us!”

At this the Honorable Judge Pig went quite mad.

“Take them away!” he oinked. “Take them away, and may they spend eternity as murderer of the mud!” He threw his gavel at them.

Two years later………..

It was the fall of 1945. WWII had ended, and the Honorable Judge Pig was dead(Courtesy of Christmas). And so was The Fox. He had been found hanging from a branch above the hollow tree that was his home. The autopsy that had been run on him had shown asphyxiation as the cause of death. A book was found in the pocket of his coat. It was his journal. A fine book with a red cover and pages made from elm wood. Inside it the last entry ran thus:

June 12 1944

Sure as my fur is red, before this day is over I shall be dead.

I never should have killed The Wolf or accused The Cat and Owl. The reason why I did these things I will not put down in writing. But the guilt of doing it of killing my best friend and accusing two innocent animals has eaten me up, has haunted my dreams and destroyed my conscience.

And now it has destroyed me.

I wish that I be buried like a sailor, that I may be thrown into the foot pond. If this happens, maybe I may meet The Owl and Cat. Maybe I may apologize.

I leave my belongings to my friend the Honorable Judge Pig, may he have use of them.

And now, my dear book, I am ready. My only regret is that I waste such a book on death.

But death is coming, my dear book.

And I am ready.

And so ended the life of The Fox, The Owl, The Cat, and The Honorable Judge Pig. But in the documentation of The Cat and Owl’s trial, there had been added, in large, curly handwriting:

An addition to this trial by The Owl:

As long as you live, be you young or old, male of female, good or evil….as long as you are any of God’s creatures under the sun, abide by this law. It may save your life one day. I did not abide by it, and now I am destroyed. The law is this:

Never consider a pig as your judge………….