Wild Children by Richard Roberts

Author:Richard Roberts
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781620071205
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Published: 2012-12-12T06:00:00+00:00

“Something is coming. You should head back.”

That was a Squirrel Child. They were why I was here, after all. When things were going well and we had more than enough food, we shared with the squirrels. Mostly pies, cakes – cooked foods, the kinds of things they couldn’t get in the woods. Part of it was generosity. Part of it was family spirit. It could be your brother or sister or son or daughter who eats that pie. Either way, the kitchen at the manor was full of smiles when it was time to cook up a basket for the Wild Children.

But part of it was a trade. Somehow, the squirrels know things.

“Is that official, or can you see something from up in those branches?” I asked, cautious but mild.

Why did I have to be cautious? Because a few seconds later a Squirrel Boy was hanging by his feet upside down from a branch in front of me, waving his arms and trying to grab something out of the basket. It’s hard not to like the squirrels, but they live for mischief, and most of them have forgotten what life is like outside their wood. They probably wouldn’t lie about a message from their oracle, but taking anything they say at face value always struck me as unwise. Anyway, I thought this one might have been Jack Hickory, who changed a couple of years ago when Right and I first arrived at the Manor. He was pretty unreliable to begin with. I couldn’t be sure. For some reason squirrels all end up looking the same.

“Are you stupid, Sinister?!” demanded the squirrel. He had actually let go with one foot to get an extra inch of reach. “If you don’t head back soon, you’ll miss it!”

It occurred to me that if he did fall he’d ruin the whole basket. I wouldn’t put it past the other squirrels to lick crumbs and sugar and marmalade off him, but it would still be less of a gift than we intended, so I lifted the danish off the top of the stack just a little. In an eye blink he was back up on his tree branch, his mouth full of pastry, and cheese smeared over his cheeks. I went back to laying everything out on the blanket. It was an occasion, so we tried to make things look pretty, although I’d watched the squirrels accept an offering from a distance and they were pretty much going to descend on it like starving vultures when they arrived.

“Do I want to miss it?” If he was going to be vague I had no intention of getting excited for squirrel games. “If it’s a real message, tell me the whole thing.”

“If you’ll give me a strawberry,” sulked the Squirrel Boy. They were his strawberries anyway now, so I had no qualms about picking one out of a bowl and throwing it up to him. Or rather throwing it hard, above and past his head. He caught it anyway, as we both knew he would.

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