Losing the Sheriff's Department

I was delving through back issues of the Mellowdene Examiner and found one of the columns I had somehow missed. This particular "People" column, authored as usual by Antonia Petite, was an interview with our Sheriff - Bisto Wildwood.

The content was unexpected and when I sought out Antonia's supplementary notes I wondered how I could have missed this story. I later discussed the article with Cecile and - although I shouldn't be surprised - she had further information. Whilst supplying a birthday cake to Ursula Cocoabean, she had chatted with her daughter Melissa - Bisto's wife - and the entire situation was given a broader aspect. 

The subject? The potential loss of our Sheriff's Department. I'll attempt to explain.

o 0 O 0 o

A few years ago Bisto Wildwood had had a visitor from the Greater Sylvanian Police Service (GSPS). With the steady increase in Mellowdene's population size over a comparatively short period, the GSPS had flagged that our Sheriff's Department might be low on staff and resources to cope with the extra numbers.

The visitor was Inspector Jensen Hopwood. He was polite, eloquent and had good points to make but his proposed solution had Bisto conflicted.

Adopting some GSPS procedures would make the job more efficient; Bisto could see that. However, replacing the Sheriff's Department with another generic GSPS station felt wrong somehow. Was the feeling purely emotional and a desire to maintain tradition? Further, shouldn't any decision to change be made by Mellowdenians? He needed time to think. Jensen was staying at Bassett's Boarding House so Bisto didn't need to commit to anything without due consideration.

That's where Cecile's information filled in a few gaps.

It transpired Bisto's two sons were proud of their father's work in the Sheriff's Department. In particular, Logan Wildwood wanted to join the Department when he was older.

That evening, Bisto was discussing his quandary with Melissa and was unaware that Logan overheard the entire conversation. Logan didn't want the Department to be absorbed into the nationwide police service. But what could he do?

o 0 O 0 o

Late morning on the next day, Bisto was at work, half-watching Inspector Hopwood chatting with the Department's deputies.     

His attention switched to the reception area and he saw a young rabbit looking nervous, seemingly reporting a problem. It was one of the Brighteyes twins. As usual, he didn't know which one; Mitch and Max are incredibly identical and they take advantage of the fact. Bisto knew he was best placed to deal with this. 

"Okay, Master Brighteyes,", said Bisto, "before we start, which twin are you?"

"I'm Max," said the young rabbit. "Logan said I should come and see you," he continued, gesturing towards the door where Bisto's son had slid into the room.

Logan joined Max. "Hi dad. Yes, when I heard of Max's problem, I thought it was a good chance for your police visitor to show you his procedures. So you can see if it would benefit the Department."

Bisto narrowed one eye. "Were you eavesdropping last night, Logan?"

A shrug. "Not so much eavesdropping, dad. I did overhear though. And remembering what you said about being open and honest..."

"Alright." He turned to Max. "What is your concern, Max?"

The twin shifted his feet nervously. "My dad grounded Mitch and me. We were supposed to stay home but this morning Mitch said he had to go somewhere. I agreed to cover for him, planning on pretending to be him as needed. But he's not come home."

Bisto sighed. "Putting aside the deception, why are you worried about your brother? Couldn't he just be a little late? Delayed?"

Max shook his head. "I know we've a reputation for pranks. We're good at them. One reason is that we pay great attention to timing. If we're exchanging places, that's important. If Mitch says he'll be back at a certain time, he will be. Bring late for anything over five minutes is unusual. Hours, never."

"You said the Greater Sylvanian Police are proud of being efficient, dad," said Logan. "With them being in Mellowdene, they should be able to find a lost rabbit quick enough."

"Maybe my dad won't need to know about Mitch leaving the house," said Max.

Bisto fixed the lad with one of his stares. "Grounded is grounded, Max. But if you really believe Mitch is lost, I will look into it."

"You don't want to see the GSPS in action?" said Logan. "It could help you make a decision about... you know."

"Did I hear mention of the GSPS?" said a new voice. Inspector Jensen Hopwood had caught the end of the conversation and had approached. "I'm happy to organise a search."

o 0 O 0 o

"We need to involve your parents," said Jensen.

"They will be back later this afternoon," said Max. "Our neighbour, Mrs Slydale, is keeping an eye on us - well, just me, but she doesn't know that. We've got some pre-prepared food in the fridge from Auntie Marion."

Jensen shook his head. "That's not ideal..."

"But you can find my brother in no time, can't you?"

"If you think you can avoid telling your parents..." began Bisto.

"It's not that, Sheriff Wildwood," said Max rapidly, "but it would be better to tell them when they come home - after you've found him."

Jensen exchanged glances with Bisto. "We'll come back to this, but let's get some more information. First - where did your brother say he was going?"

"That's just it. He didn't say much. He burst into the room and said 'cover for me - I won't be long; no more than half an hour.' I asked where but he was already leaving. He did answer but I didn't catch it clearly."

"What did you hear?"

"It could have been 'side of the dell'. But I'm not sure."

Jensen moved to have a look at some maps of the county. "Are there many dells in Mellowdene County?"

Logan pointed towards the map. "There are half a dozen or so beyond the grasslands. Stone flats separate them."

"The land undulates noticeably where there's no stone," explained Bisto. "They form deep grassy hollows so visibility isn't great." He paused. "Even so, that's a fair distance if Mitchell was intending to be back in thirty minutes."

"Police procedures says we should check all leads. Who is familiar with the area?"

"Chandler Thistlethorn travels most of the wilder areas in his buggy. He delivers messages around the county."

"We should check his availability," said Jensen. "Any other dells? No? Maxwell - If you didn't hear him clearly could he have said something else? Like... 'decide not to tell'? Might he have been saying he didn't want you to know where he was going?"

Max's eyes darted between the Sheriff and the policeman. "He wouldn't say that."

Jensen assessed the young rabbit. "Then we'll concentrate on the dells. Sheriff Wildwood - may I deploy your colleagues?"

"It might be better to explain the situation to them before deploying anywhere."

"Very well," he acknowledged and turned his gaze towards Woodstock Fisher and Billy Webster at the other side of the office. "Ah. You've got aerial surveillance. If you'll excuse me." 

With Jensen moving away, Bisto's attention switched back to Max Brighteyes.

"I can't see why your brother would want to hurry out to the wilds of the county. Maybe it wasn't 'dell'." He paused. "Would Mitchell have any reason to visit anyone in the Dale family?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, think a little deeper while we explore other options. The time element suggests he wasn't intending to go too far. Now, you live on Vetch Lane..." Bisto rubbed his chin in thought and then stopped. "You said Mrs Slydale was keeping an eye on you. The Slydales live next door to you... Is it possible Mitchell said something about the Slydales? If Buster Slydale has anything to do with this..."

Logan nudged his father. "You could check. Before Inspector Hopwood sends out a search party."

"Excellent idea. You boys come with me. We'll find out if Buster's influence has led to Mitch having lost track of time."

o 0 O 0 o

At the far end of the Slydale garden they have a garden shed. Bisto approached the sturdy building accompanied by Logan and Max. They were almost at the door when low voices became audible. There may even have been some chuckling.

A piece of wood had become wedged beneath the shed door, effectively trapping anyone inside. Bisto freed the obstruction and wrenched open the door. Buster Slydale and Mitch Brighteyes were sitting on the floor surrounded by apple cores.

The lost boy was found.

o 0 O 0 o

There were consequences of course.

The twins' parents learned what had happened in their brief absence. Of course, Mitch Brighteyes was in trouble for leaving his home when grounded. Max had aided with the deception. Buster Slydale had offered Mitch some apples but they needed to be quickly collected, for some reason, never made quite clear. But that was no excuse. As Bisto had said, "grounded is grounded." 

Bisto Wildwood realised his beloved department worked perfectly. It had evolved naturally to meet Mellowdene's needs and the carefully nurtured knowledge Bisto and his deputies had of the community was of prime importance. He would not agree to the loss of the Sheriff's Department when the working practices of the GSPS were a poorer replacement. They had some good ideas but he could adopt those by employing someone associated with the GSPS to act as a liaison between the two institutions.

When Bisto noticed Buster and Logan exchanging subtle winks he suspected that the whole situation had been manufactured. He didn't believe the Brighteyes twins were embroiled in the plan but Logan's obvious joy that the Department was saved seemed out of proportion. Could Logan have arranged all of this so that his father would realise what was patently clear to others? That the Sheriff's Department had grown to meet Mellowdene's needs? It was possible. Bisto wouldn't act on it though. He didn't want to know for certain. He liked the idea Logan cared about the Department as much as he did. 

o 0 O 0 o

 

Back to School

It was the first day of a new school term and traditionally a section of the timetable was set aside for administration - setting up schedules, welcoming returning and additional pupils, and outlining any new subjects to be covered over the coming months. 

Both my school-aged children usually regaled us with their experiences upon their return home. Brendan was first to arrive and he seemed particularly excited.

"You look happy," I said. "How did your first day back at school go?"

"Great, dad," said Brendan, eyes bright. "We were told that we're going to start doing halchibba this year,"

"Halchibba?" I briefly grasped for his meaning, settling on, "Do you mean algebra?"

"Probably." His paw waved dismissively and a faint smile suggested he was reliving the moment. "It sounds like fun."

The words brought back memories of my twin brother in our schooldays. Newton devoured mathematical expressions with glee. Brendan was good at arithmetic but I didn't see him as another boffin. Did he understand the concept?

"What have you been told about algebra, Brendan?"

"As far as I can see it's all about number puzzles." His smile broadened. "And we have to find 'X the Unknown'. Isn't that a great name? Like a secret agent."

Number puzzles? Well, maybe. But was he distracted by the idea of agent X? When he carried on his explanation, that was a distinct possibility. 

"During the morning playtime Lucky and me met up with Benedict," he said, referring to Lucky's elder brother, "and he said that we'd eventually learn about E, X's opponent."

Again I was transported to my own schooldays as I remembered about Newton's ramblings. I didn't really understand much of it but the term 'exponent' and the symbol 'e' were peppered in the narrative as he tried to explain. I decided not to correct my son; let him enjoy himself. There was also the possibility that he was teasing me.

"Well, I'm glad you're excited about the new schoolwork. You'ĺl have something else to share with your sister."

"Oh yeah. Beverley will have done this. I'll go and ask her." He started to leave but paused. 

"Except she won't be home yet. She's got that consoli-thingy lesson. And she'll have other things on her mind... but she can tell you all about that. I'll go to see mum and find out what's for tea."

With Brendan disappearing from my view I was left deciphering his parting words. I concluded that he was referring to the 'consolidation classes' that had been recently introduced to the school curriculum. An hour after the main timetable the school had introduced an optional space whereby pupils could talk to teachers and other pupils. This was to clarify any subject matter introduced that day that they needed to understand better. That could include worked examples. Some children used it as a time to begin their homework whilst having access to the school's resources.

Beverley had been positive about the scheme. I wondered: how her first day back at school had gone for her?

o 0 O 0 o

Whilst Brendan has been buoyant, Beverley's face indicated that something didn't suit her. Not exactly sulky, she didn't successfully hide her unhappiness. The exaggerated sigh alerting me to her presence confirmed that.

"Okay, pudding," I said, "I can see something's troubling you. Tell your daddy." 

"Nothing," she said, a forced smile failing to convince me. "Nothing, really."

I put my arm around her. "Alright. Tell me the 'nothing really' that's troubling you."

A small giggle. "Oh, dad. You always cheer me up."

"So?"

She sighed and began. "Mrs Hamilton asked me to be a prefect." She paused. "I thanked her but said I didn't want to boss people about. She said that was good but that wasn't what the job was about. She said she wanted some responsible students to help in a particular situation. And I wouldn't be by myself."

"What did you say to that?"

"I still wasn't keen but she sounded like she needed us."

"So you agreed?"

"Mm, yes. There was Freya, Candy Mulberry and me and we all agreed. Then we were told the job. It didn't sound too bad but now I'm not too sure."

     

"Go on."

"The teacher in one of the outlying small schools can't teach her lessons - I think it's a medical thing - so until that changes, her class is being split and the students assigned to our school. Three of them are coming to my class."

"Let me guess. Three new students. Three prefects."

"Right. I have be there to help my newby settle in and be what Mrs Hamilton calls their first point of contact."

"That sounds familiar. When I was at school, Darcy Fielding was assigned to me."

"Oh yeah. I remember you saying you had good memories about that. Ordinarily I wouldn't mind doing that sort of thing but at the moment it messes with my plans."

"How so?"

"You know the consolidation classes? Well, usually I don't need them to clarify what happened in the day's lessons. I've been using it to work on an art project for Mellowdene Day. I worry that, if I'm spending too much time on the newby, I'll need to use the consolidation class properly and I won't have enough time for my project."

"Hmm. I see. Can your Aunt Angelica help?"

Cecile's sister-in-law Angelica Ivory is the art teacher at the school. Beverley has benefited from her teaching since she came to Mellowdene.

"It's not really something I can work on at home. I really need to be at school to do the work."

"Maybe your aunt could give you more time at school in order to compensate for any time you lose. I could have a word..."

"No, daddy," said my daughter, shaking her head, "but I could explain to her. It is a good idea. Thanks."

At that point, Brendan ambled into the room.

"Hi sis. Coco says you're going to be a prefect. At first I thought he said 'perfect' but I knew that couldn't be right."

An eye roll and Beverley responded. "Well, I've been given an important job, if that's what you mean."

"I know. I went to have a word with Una Fielding as she usually has inside information on schooly things. You're getting three students from White Cottage Schoolhouse to look after."

"I'm impressed at your detective work. Well, you're right. I don't know who the students are, though."

"Una said they're placing students where they will fit in best. That's so they will be more comfortable settling in. There's a list."

"Don't tell me that you've seen it."

"Alright, I won't." He turned, as if to go. "But you might get Iona Dale."

"Iona?"

The Dales used to be our neighbours until they moved to be nearer to the family business. Friendships endured but the frequency of associations reduced.

"Yep. You'd like that, eh?"

Beverly grinned and winked at me.

"I definitely need to speak to Aunt Angelica."

o 0 O 0 o