CHAPTER FIVE

OWEN MEETS RALPH AND TRIXIE

Owen Braithwaite hated the outdoors and despised camping. However, the direct instructions from his King and spiritual leader would require either camping, nature, or heaven forbid both. His orders were clear: find and arrest all leprechauns who were foolish enough to cross his path. Although the order to apprehend all the children unsettled him, there was no choice in the matter. Owen dreaded the responsibility of finding the culprit behind the sudden influx of wayward leprechauns. The age-old prophecy stating a young child would call forth the vile creatures didn’t help matters. Whoever this child was, Owen needed to find a way to stop him or her. He could not locate and deputize anyone willing to aid in the seizure. If he was to capture every child on his own, then so be it, and all the glory would be his.

                                                                 

He left the castle walls three hours ago with his carriage full of expensive camping gear. Of course, Owen spent his own money to purchase the equipment. A crafty sales associate at the castle’s market charged him more than he wanted to pay for a cooler, which the clerk promptly filled with overpriced frozen dinners.

Before leaving the castle, Owen searched various documents looking for previous times in history when the kingdom arrested all the children at the same time. He hoped it would give him a timeline and some clues as to how to accomplish the deed. The prison library was no help. Apparently, this would be a first.

The trek through the forest was no fun at all, especially for the two horses that pulled the carriage. Owen stopped at what he thought was a decent clearing, spotting a pond and some reasonably flat ground.

      “I’ll set up my campsite here,” he informed the horses, who stood as he unloaded his gear. An hour later, he sat next to his rented carriage. The tent bag lay empty, with the contents spilled on a patch of lawn a few yards away. The tent itself was a tangled mess. Unfortunately, he used the crumpled instructions as kindling for a pathetic fire he somehow lit. Now, he was left scratching his head and wondering how he’d assemble a shelter.

He read the directions on the box of his EZeat's Hungry-Man Mexican dinner, but nowhere did it state how to cook the frozen meal on a campfire. Hunger finally got the better of him, so licked the frozen enchiladas like a Popsicle and pondered what to do next. Of course, the horses, which had been forgotten, were also hungry and thirsty. They stomped and whinnied until Owen finally unhitched them and tied them to a tree near the pond.

Owen drifted off to sleep under the stars. He awoke to a thunderous lightning bolt that struck a close-by tree. Shaken, he was determined to pitch his tent and vowed to stay up all night to accomplish the deed. After hours of fighting poles, canvas, and stakes, Owen crawled beneath the carriage, entangling himself with tethers and reins. His nose informed him that he was lying precariously close to several piles of horse plop, but he was too exhausted to do anything about it. Soon he was fast asleep again, sucking his thumb.

                                                                 

Sleeping beneath a carriage is the one thing in life you should avoid, especially when a pair of gigantic pond squirrels is sitting nearby roasting an EZeat's Hungry-Man Mexican Dinner over a smoldering campfire. You remember giant pond squirrels, don’t you? They are almost as large as a grizzly bear but live primarily near water, thus their name. You should avoid them at all times. Never feed a giant pond squirrel.

Ralph, of the pond squirrel species, contently devoured what was left of Owen’s meager supplies. The enormous creature was entirely unaware that the tent-tied former vice-leader slept under the carriage. However, Ralph’s mate—an even larger pond squirrel named Trixie—noticed the intruder after her fifth dinner. She gritted her sharp, saber-like teeth and let out a horrendous bark. Next, she lobbed a smoldering campfire cinder directly at Ralph, pointing at the sleeping Owen.

“Husband dear, I fear we are not alone.” 

Ralph looked at his smoldering fur, and without so much as a how-do-you-do, leaped at Trixie, his razor-sharp claws at the ready. Trixie expected the attack and sidestepped at the precise moment, sending poor Ralph head first into an overgrown oak tree. Owen slept through it all.

Trixie waited for Ralph to gain consciousness and fanned him with a charred Turkey EZeat's cardboard box. Ralph counted the brightly colored stars as they whizzed around the huge bump on his head.

                                                                 

The crescent moon darted behind an off-white wispy cloud, as a hoot of a Barn Owl argued in the distance. The gentle forest creatures trembled behind whatever foliage they could find. The ungentle animals shook in their dens and caves. Even the two carriage horses moved behind a tree and stood as still as statues. The necessity of avoiding massive creatures is common knowledge, especially sizable male pond squirrels about to recover from a near coma.

Ralph lay motionless for the longest time. Trixie pondered the best way to tell her dray of young squirrel kits that she accidentally murdered their father.

One giant paw stirred, followed by another, and then an agonizing, “OUCH.”

“Dearest beloved husband, I saw that nasty tree lunge at you as you were about to rip my throat out.” Trixie tiptoed away from her husband.

Ralph rubbed the knot on his forehead as he struggled into a sitting position, with no help from his wife, mind you. “Dearest wife, there isn’t a tree around insane enough to lunge at me. Either you tripped me, or I'm getting feeble in my old age.”

Trixie pointed to the rumpled, hog-tied heap sleeping under the carriage. “Hush, my feeble, feeble darling. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“I swear, Trixie, one of these days…” Ralph brought his fist from his side and pointed upward. “One of these days, to the moon, Trixie, to the moon.” 

“Yes dear, I’ve heard that every day for the last three hundred years. But, what do we do with… it?” She jabbed her thumb toward the sleeping figure.

Ralph looked at the sleeping thing, sniffing the air and shrugging. “It beats me, my beloved. You know I gave up man meat years ago. It’s a disgusting habit and leaves a bad aftertaste. Besides, they’re high in cholesterol and send my blood sugar through the roof.”

Trixie shook her head and kissed her husband’s knotty head before she whacked it with a fallen branch. “Now, dearest, I understand you are stressed, what with that nasty knot and your feeble age. But you must remember what we are to do if we encounter a human outside of the castle wall.”

Ralph rubbed his head and shied away from his wife. “Eat it?”

“No, a tempting idea, but no. We are to escort it to our illustrious leader. She will know what to do.”

Ralph sneered. “Ah, yes, but we are to execute it first. I’m sure.” His expression went blank.

“Now, now, dearest,” she whispered, “our leader will decide its fate.”

Ralph hefted an enormous leafless branch above his head, swinging it several times. “Execution it is.”

 “Dearest, I am positive there’s no killing involved. We are to escort the human, not execute it.”

Ralph’s squirrel lips jutted out, his eyes drooped, and his arms went slack. “Are you sure?” he snarled. “Can I rough it up, just a little?”

Trixie shook her disapproving head but then relented. “Just a little, on account it will lighten your mood. But you must not kill it. Promise?”

“Aw, spoilsport. All right, a few slaps, but no mortal wounds. At least you tied the thing up while I was lying in my near-death state.”

“He was tied up before we got here. I can’t take the credit.”

“Tied up with what?” asked Ralph.

“It appears to be horse reins and such.”

Suddenly, Ralph’s eyes lit up with an idea. “My dear, have our kits ever dined on horse flesh?” 

“Well … no. That’s a rare delicacy in the forest.”

At that exact moment, the two carriage horses shuffled in fear, inadvertently giving away their location.

Trixie sighed. “Well, make it quick, dearest. I’ll tidy up the trash while you drag their carcasses to our den. Once our darling babies are fed, we’ll take the human to Morgan.”