Mivelly Mouse And The Pumpkin Seeds
A Story For the young,
and the young at heart
Or read it below.
In which Mivelly retrieves his wagon from the creek.
Fabio Marcellus hedgehog was dead. His round limp little form lay sprawled on the gravely sands of the creek bank. The water lapped up over his body and rippled round as the crayfish scavenged his remains.
Yes, Fabio Marcellus hedgehog was in fact, dead. And he knew this with every fiber of his being.
Just as Fabio’s imagination reached this abysmal conclusion, his feet touched the sandy bottom of the creek bed, and someone grabbed his hand.
“You’re not drowning!” Mivelly shouted. “Stand up and help me pull the wagon out of the creek.”
Fabio stopped flailing his arms. He tapped one toe on the creek bed, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining it was there. Then, standing up, he grinned his sheepish little grin.
“I- uh, I knew that.” He mumbled. “I was just- uh, pretending.”
Mivelly waded over to the wagon and grabbed hold of one side of the handle. Fabio followed him.
“You take the other side, and we’ll both pull together.” Mivelly said.
Fabio did as he was told. They both pulled with all their might. Slowly, the waterlogged wagon inched forward.
“Pull harder!” Mivelly gasped.
“I’m pulling - as hard - as - I can.” Fabio’s face grew red from the strain.
The two continued to fight the current, slowly moving the wagon up the bank.
The further they got, the less red Fabio’s face became. The top of the wagon broke above the water.
“We’re doing it!” Mivelly shouted.
Only seconds after this joyful proclamation Fabio stepped on a particularly slippery stone, and fell with a splash! Mivelly, trying to keep hold of the wagon, also placed his foot on the treacherous slime. He too went down with a plunk! The wagon whisked away down stream.
“Nooooo!” Mivelly cried, crawling up onto the creek bank, and running as fast as he could alongside the water.
“Oh no.” Fabio sniffled, still sitting where he had fallen. “Now I’ve done it! I’ve lost Mivelly’s wagon for good!”
Mivelly disappeared around the bend in pursuit of the runaway wagon. Fabio removed the squirming tadpole from his face, and released it back into the water. After a few moments, he got to his feet, stepped up onto the bank, and slowly shuffled along downstream.
“I have to be the most unfortunate hedgehog to have ever lived!” He mumbled.
The water gurgled and swooshed, as though it were laughing at him. He picked up a stone and hurled it into the water. Just as he was about to cast another stone, Mivelly’s voice caught his ear.
“Fabio! You’ve gotta come see this!”
Fabio thought it strange that Mivelly’s voice sounded as jubilant as it did. He couldn’t quite comprehend how one could be so happy after having suffered the loss of their wagon.
“Fabio, come on!” Mivelly shouted again.
Fabio, now curios, began to scuttle along in proper hedgehog fashion. Rounding the bend, he stopped in his tracks and blinked several times, unsure if what he was seeing was real.
There, in the middle of the creek, Mivelly stood, his wagon by his side, on top of the water.
“What are you waiting for? Come over here!” Mivelly said.
Fabio rubbed his eyes, and pinched himself. Though, he took care not to pinch too hard.
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“I’ve found a bridge across the creek.” Mivelly motioned to Fabio. “The wagon got caught, and I was able to pull it out!”
“Oooooh.” Fabio scuttled over to Mivelly. “That explains so much!”
“This oughtta make it a lot easier to bring sticks back to the pumpkin patch now.” Mivelly said.
“Right, Sticks!” Fabio exclaimed. “I almost forgot that’s what we came for!”
The two friends crossed the bridge, wagon in tow, and began to look around the forest floor to find the perfect stick for pumpkin smashing. That is, Mivelly began searching for a stick. Fabio, who is a hedgehog of grand ideas but small stature, scuttled over to a log and declared,
“This one! This is the perfect pumpkin smashing machine!”
“I don’t know about that.” Mivelly began. “We can’t even…”
But Fabio, eyes wide, put his finger to his lips.
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. It’s the perfect pumpkin smashing machine.”
“Fabio, it’s ten times bigger than both of us put together! There’s no way we can lift that, much less haul it back to the pumpkin patch.”
“You’re just being dramatic.” Fabio snooted. “Watch this!”
He scuttled round the end of the log. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the bottom edge and proceeded to lift with all of his might. The log didn’t budge. His face turned crimson as he strained under its enormous weight.
“Fabio, it’s too heavy.”
“Just- give- me- a- moment!” Fabio grunted. “I’ve- almost- got- it.”
“You do not.” Mivelly said
“Give- me- a- hand.” Fabio huffed.
Mivelly obliged his friend and both of them put everything they had into lifting the log.
“We’re- getting- nowhere.” Mivelly gasped.
Fabio collapsed to the ground, huffing and puffing in typical hedgehog fashion. Mivelly joined him.
“I guess- I- was a bit- too ambitious.” Fabio said.
“I told you it was too big. Now can we look for sticks we can actually lift?”
Fabio held up one finger.
“Once I catch my breath.” He puffed. “Hedgehogs are much better at digging than lifting.”
Mivelly and Fabio sat there for several minutes before they felt revived enough to continue their search. Fabio, who had learned his lesson, was the first to find a suitable pumpkin bludgeon.
“Ohhhhh, this one’s a good one!” He exclaimed, holding up his newfound prize.
“That is a good one!” Mivelly agreed, as he continued to scour the ground in search of a club of his own.
It was not long before Mivelly and Fabio had found, not two, but seven sticks, with which they hoped to break open the pumpkin.
“Now,” Mivelly mused, “Which one do we take back to the pumpkin patch?”
“Which one?!” Fabio exclaimed. “We take all of them, obviously! We didn’t bring the wagon just for the ride.”
Mivelly conceded Fabio’s point. They loaded the sticks into the wagon, and made their way across the creek, and back up to the top of the hill.
After catching his breath yet again, Fabio stood up, selected his favorite stick, and planted himself before the giant pumpkin. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
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“Hear ye, hear ye!” He began. “Today we will at last vanquish the pumpkin and harvest the treasures within it’s cavernous depths. Today we will succeed in our mission. Today…” And here he deepened his voice as best he could. “We will be victorious!”
With this Fabio turned, wound up, and struck the pumpkin with every ounce of force he could muster. THWACK! The blow resonated through the pumpkin patch, rattling every single one of Fabio’s prickles.
The pumpkin split up the center, and fell neatly into two giant halves, full of delicious seeds just waiting to be harvested, and roasted. The clouds parted, and a single golden ray of sunshine gleamed down upon the victorious and fabulous hedgehog.
At least, that’s what Fabio very much expected to happen. What actually happened was that the pumpkin did nothing, and Fabio’s hands absorbed the shock from the blow.
“OWWW!” Fabio shouted as he dropped the stick, dancing around and, shaking his hands. “Ow, ow, ow, OWWW!”
Mivelly began to giggle at the sight of Fabio’s impromptu jig. Fabio scowled.
“You try it!” He demanded.
Mivelly suppressed his giggles, and selected his favorite stick from the wagon. Standing before the pumpkin, he said,
“You’ve got to keep your hands together, like this.” And he demonstrated the proper gripping technique for Fabio to see. “If you hold it this way, your hands won’t hurt when you hit the pumpkin.”
Fabio looked skeptical, but remained silent. Mivelly wound up and hit the pumpkin as hard as he could. Still not even a dent was visible on the pumpkins exterior. But Fabio’s jaw hung open.
“I can’t believe that worked!” He said.
“It didn’t.” Mivelly looked confused. “The pumpkin didn’t even dent.”
“No,” Fabio said, “you didn’t hurt your hands.”
“Oh, that.” Mivelly grinned. “Papa taught me how to do that.”
Fabio scuttled over, and picked up his stick again. This time carefully placing his hands together as he grasped it. Once again, he whacked the pumpkin as hard as he could. Still nothing happened, but his hands didn’t hurt, and this caused him to scuttle a lap around the pumpkin as he shouted in victorious ecstasy.
The two friends took turns whacking at the pumpkin. They tried every single stick they’d brought along at least four times, and still the pumpkin remained unbroken. Finally Mivelly plopped down, out of breath.
“I don’t think hitting it with a stick is going to work.”
Fabio, not willing to give up without having done his best, brandished his favorite stick, ran back a ways, and charged the pumpkin while yelling at the top of his lungs. This also did not work, and so Fabio joined Mivelly and they sat there, wondering how they would ever get Mivelly’s mama her pumpkin seeds.
After a few minutes of labored breathing, Fabio jumped up, and scuttled to the other side of the pumpkin, where he looked down the hill, a strange little twinkle in his eyes.
“I’ve got an idea!”
“What’s that?” Mivelly asked.
“We roll the pumpkin down the hill into the old stump. That oughtta break it open!”
“Yeah, but how are we going to get the pumpkin to roll?” Mivelly mused.
“We could find a pony and have it roll the pumpkin down the hill.” Fabio suggested.
“Do you know any ponies?” Mivelly asked.
“No.” Fabio grinned sheepishly. “But I thought you might.”
“Sadly, I don’t.” Mivelly sighed, staring out across the meadow.
“Oh!” Fabio scuttled behind the pumpkin. “I’ve got another idea!”
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Mivelly remained seated on the edge of the hill. From behind the pumpkin, he could hear Fabio humming a traditional hedgehog serenade. Fabio, took the longest, most springy stick of the bunch, and wedged it underneath the pumpkin. This done, he climbed on top of the pumpkin and shouted,
“Get out of the way Mivelly! This pumpkin’s about to take a trip down the hill!”
Mivelly moved out of the way. Fabio took a deep breath and leaped off of the pumpkin.
“Canon ball!” He shouted as he flew, spreadeagled, through the air.
From the other side, Mivelly heard the stick go BOIIIING! Then he heard a thud. Then he heard the ever so faint gasp of what he could only assume was Fabio. The pumpkin remained unmoved.
“Mivelly?” Fabio’s voice was less flamboyant than usual. “I need some help here.”