No Regrets

 

            “Thanks, Baby,” said Ramona after Jim was well out of earshot. “I sure didn’t want to deal with anything that big. What would I do with all of that? Call the clans and have a party? And now, I know his name!”
            “I don’t think we’ve eaten any creature with a name,” said Ralph. “I was just testing him you know? Kinda teasing him.”
            “I sure hope he stays out of trouble,” Ramona said thoughtfully.
            Ralph laughed. “Well, there’s always a first time!”
            “Eww!” said Ramona. But she was laughing too. “I wonder what he is doing right now?”
            “Do you think I should go check on him?” said Ralph. “I’d like to think that he is eating grass and shoving some firewood over.”
            Bob and Suzy had had left to go check on their Stump House a while before, to make sure Jim was minding his manners around their place. Ramona made coffee after she scraped the fish scraps into the fire and dumped the bowls into her bucket to wait for a trip to the river.
            “I’ll just fly up there, be right back,” said Maeve. “You’ll know soon enough.” So, she took off in the direction of the lower meadow where Bob and Suzy live. True to her word, in just a few hundred wing-flaps, she was back.
            “He’s up there alright, Boss,” she said after settling down.
            “OK, good, Birdie. What’s the rest of it?” said Ralph. “It sounds like there is more.”
            “He’s singing. I know how crazy that sounds, but I heard him!” she said.
            “Could you hear the words?” said Ramona. She looked pretty amazed at the prospect of Jim singing at Bob and Suzy's Stump House.
            “Not sure. There was something about his big hard head, and some grunting and snuffling. He was parked by the Stump House. Just sitting there and singing. I don’t know what to make of it, Boss!”
            “Maybe I better go up there after all,” considered Ralph. “Any of you ladies want to come along?”
            Ramona shook her head no. “I think Cherry and I will go visit the Bunnies, and take this bucket of bowls to the river. You and Maeve can go see what’s going on up there. Then, when it’s over, come and tell us about it.”
            “I’ll go,” agreed Maeve.
            So, Ralph kissed Ramona and Cherry, ruffled Blue’s head, and with his bird on board, set out for the Stump House. He was whistling a little soft tune while he walked. If he had had pockets his hands would have been in his pockets. No hurry, just curious.
            His log looked fine, very inviting, but he was on a mission.
            The sky looked like it might snow soon, he observed. It gave everything that white opaque look it gets before a snowfall. In the meadow, the dry winter grass was brown with some frozen snow crusting it, and a path was beaten into it leading directly to the Stump House.
            True to Maeve’s word, Jim was sitting at Suzy’s fire opposite Suzy. He looked like a mountain of dark brown fur, but his eyes were open and he was listening to Uncle Bob who sat beside him.
            “Hi, Ralphie! Guess what?” said Bob.
            As he strolled up, Ralph said, “Tell me, Bob!”
            “Jim likes to sing! And he sounds pretty good,” said Bob.
            “Basso profundo,” said Suzy. “Sounds nice with Bob’s tenor.”
            “We could use some harmonica, but Maurice isn’t around,” said Bob. “So, it’s just us.”
            Some snowflakes fell out of the sky.
            “You’re pretty good with lyrics, Bob.”
             “What have you been singing about, Jim?” said Ralph. Jim’s intense small eyes surrounded by dark fur and surmounted by his truly impressive horns, turned to Ralph.
            “About using my big head for thinking, mostly,” said Jim. “Bob is helping me. I’m sorry I banged on his house and scared Suzy. She’s pretty nice.”
            Suzy gave Ralph a look. Her eyebrows were up as far up as they could get. Ralph grinned back at her. Some snow fell between them. The flakes evaporated over Suzy’s fire.
            “What are you guys working on?” said Ralph.
            “This is just our first idea, Ralphie. It’s going to be called Big Hard Head Restoration Blues,” said Bob, as Jim nodded.
            “That was quick! How long have you guys been buddies?” Ralph laughed. “Do you have lyrics yet?”
            “A few lines,” said Bob. And as the snowfall thickened, he began to sing, and Jim kind of mumbled along.
                        I am sorry that I did it.
                        It wasn’t very nice.
                        My head is big and hard,
                        I didn’t think twice.
                        I hit problems like a hammer.
                        With my big hard head!
                        I was a fool running,
                        With a problem slammer!
 
            “We’ll keep working on it, Ralphie,” said Bob. “We’ll do some stuff about how he got here and what he’s going to do now.”
            “Man, Bob, I think I see another concert coming up in the spring!” said Ralph. “Maybe that Tim guy will come back with his guitar? That would be cool!”
            “I wish Maurice would come back!” said Bob. “He’s the one with concert experience. Not me!”
            “What’s a concert?”  said Jim. Snowflakes like constellations of tiny stars bedecked his head. His breath rose in little puffs. He began to rise too. First his backend went up as he straightened his back legs, then the front legs, until all of him was standing there.
            “It’s a bunch of people watching some other people make music for them,” said Ralph.
            “Oh. Can we go push some dead trees over now?” said Jim.
            “We can always go push some dead trees over, Jim,” said Ralph. “Firekeepers always need more firewood!”
            “What’s a firekeeper,” said Jim, still humming away.
            “Ah, the lady who keeps the fire burning, the center, Ramona or Suzy, Jim.”
            Jim nodded his big head. The idea must have struck home.
            “You want to come, Bob,” said Ralph.
            “Sure!” said Bob.
            Snow fell heavier and heavier, as the boys ranged out to search for a dead tree or two.   Maeve flew back to Ramona to carry the news home.
            “Evermore,” she remarked to the sky and the snow, and the Forest below.

💙❄️💙