Darcy Fills In

Hello. My name is Darcy Fielding and I'm the editor and owner of the Mellowdene Examiner, the family-run newspaper that serves our village  It's the computer technology in my office that makes it possible for me to share with you the tales that my old friend Jackson Butterglove writes.

At this point I should pass on Jackson's apologies. He has been faced with extra work this month - in addition to spending Christmas time with his family, I understand that he's been approached with regard to a songwriting contract. I have no further news, and he would no doubt prefer to provide details personally, that is, if he wishes to share the news at all. Anyway, I don't want to place any pressure on him concerning his "Life in Mellowdene" pieces. That was our deal. So that's why I'm filling in this time.

Oh, and I hope you had a Merry Christmas!.

I have to say at the outset that I'm not a storyteller like Jackson. My background is in reporting, setting out facts for my readers. Having said that, we'll see how things go. Maybe I'll surprise myself.

Firstly, you may be wondering how it is that my newspaper has this whizzy Internet technology when the rest of Mellowdene only associates the word "web" with spiders. The answer is simple. Newton Butterglove. His work in the Sylvanian Research Group gives him access to a lot of scientific "stuff", some of which he helped develop. With the agreement of the Mellowdene council, Newton has introduced elements of the technology to the village under the proviso it is strictly controlled.

Mice are curious creatures. Maybe that's why I was more than happy to stick with the family business and became a reporter. And maybe that's why Newton gave me the opportunity to upgrade the production of my newspaper.

I don't think he expected me to have an interest in the world beyond Sylvania. Unlike most crittizens in Mellowdene, I have always believed in lands beyond our shores. And if I'm curious about the people out there, it follows that some of them might be curious about our lives in Sylvania. I convinced Newton that we could provide them with tales about our community, and when we discussed possible writers, his brother became the prime candidate. Newton knew that Jackson could be trusted to keep the technology secret from the rest of the village, and I knew he was capable of creating Copy - provided I made the idea attractive enough.

When Jackson reads this he may be surprised at Newton's involvement, but I doubt it. He knows his brother's capabilities.

Speaking of which - and again, mice are part of this - Newton has provided other technology to Mellowdene. Ashley Maces' business with the Hazelwood brothers - Mice & Clean - has benefited from special recycling, processing and safety equipment.

Burrow, Scurry, Tumble and little Sniff work incredibly hard to collect our waste and keep the village clean, and they are unsung heroes of our village.

The equipment makes their work a little easier, and I understand that they can now supply fertilizer to our food producers.

 

There may be other equipment in use around Mellowdene that the council have allowed, provided that they are persuaded that it will improve our lives and our environment. With my reporting background I am sometimes irked by the secrecy, but I understand it. I am a mouse, but I'm also Sylvanian.

o 0 O 0 o

My eldest daughter Una had to be reminded of this a few weeks ago. Like all my children, she likes to do jobs for the Examiner, and it was natural that she became a school reporter as she is perhaps the most curious of them. I shouldn't have been surprised that she figured out what was going on.

"Dad," she said, clearly using her voice to sound as innocent as possible, "Is it true that Mr Butterglove is writing exposés on Mellowdene citizens, and that you're publishing them abroad?"

"Where did you get that idea?" I replied. I had tried to give my words an air of amused surprise, but Una is her father's daughter and she saw straight through me.

"So it is true!" she said, delight in her eyes. "May I see?"

I knew I had to stop her before she took any action.

"If such a thing were true, daughter, it would be confidential. You are far too eager to see such things. If it were true."

"Aw," she pouted, then brightening instantly, "But you can say if he's written anything about Beverley and Brendan?"

I moved to her side and took hold of her shoulders. "Una. Listen to me. You are not to mention any of this..."

"Ooh! What?"

"Stop it, Una. I'm serious. This is not a scoop for your school newspaper. True or false, reporting your suspicions would not be a very nice thing to do. People's feelings may get hurt. Now I want your word that you will drop this."

"But Dad, I'm a reporter..."

"No, you are a student who's working as a trainee reporter but even that is secondary to your schoolwork. You are becoming a good little writer with a nose for a story, but you need to learn restraint and integrity. Promise me."

"What about the truth, Dad? You always say..."

"Alright, Una," I said, looking for another approach. "How about this? What if I wrote a story about what you did on your tenth birthday? It's a good story. It's true. If Mr Butterglove was writing - how did you put it - exposés on people here in Mellowdene, I think your exploits would make excellent reading."

"Dad, you wouldn't..."

"Hypothetically, if such a thing were to be written, how happy would you be for this to appear in your school newspaper?"

Una was silent. I prompted her. "Well?"

"I wouldn't like it, daddy."

"So would other people like their little secrets to come out?"

"No, daddy."

"So do I have your word that you will not pursue this?"

She looked at me. "I promise."

"Good girl."

"But tell me one thing, daddy. There's nothing really bad in there, is there?"

"Hypothetically?"

"Yes. Hypothetically."


I smiled at her. "If Mr Butterglove was writing about our friends and colleagues, do you really think he would write anything nasty about them?"

Her eyes crinkled as the corners of her mouth turned up. "No, Dad. He's a nice man."

"And you're a nice daughter, Una. You're going to be a great reporter one day. You're learning that it's not just about being literate and tenacious. You're beginning to learn choices have consequences. And you're going to make me proud."

There was a hint of a blush as she beamed at me. The expression remained on her face as she left the room.

o 0 O 0 o

Well, my friends - it's time to bring this article to an end. I confess I quite enjoyed writing it. Perhaps I'll do it again. I know things about the mice community that Jackson doesn't. What do you think, Jack? Interested?

o 0 O 0 o

Christmas Dinners

With the Buttergloves and their relatives being so numerous in Mellowdene, the idea of a Christmas dinner where we all attend is sadly impractical. Someone suggested that we erect a marquee in the field between Butterglove House (where Merlin and I live with our families) and Butterglove Lodge (where my cousins live with their families). That would provide enough space to include my brother Newton, his family and his in-laws too. Nevertheless, nearly all of us rejected that idea - we'd tried it once before, and that was despite objections about poor weather conditions, lack of comfort, and carrying food and drink from the houses. The reason? Well, let's just say the experience didn't end well.

The Periwinkles have a large family too, and they once booked the village hall, making use of the kitchen there. Alex Periwinkle confided that, whilst it was reasonably successful, most attendees missed their own homes. Apart from that, other bookings of the hall mean there can be pressure to fit in with a strict schedule. Not something you want at Christmas.

As such, we all usually settle for having separate Christmas dinners in the comfort of our homes, but compensate by visiting each other over the period.

For me, this means everyone living at Butterglove House has Christmas dinner together, with the attendees not much different to any other week. We knew we'd be a little more cramped this year but we didn't mind - Orton doesn't take up much space! However, Cecile was thinking that, since her brother has returned to the village, Rowan and his family would dine with us too. Understandable, but that would have boosted the attendees from eight to twelve. With the best will in the world, our dining room won't accommodate that many. As luck would have it, Rowan popped in for a chat before any arrangements were made and I was in the dining room, wrapping presents.

"Hi", he said as he came in. "Brendan sent me through."

"Oh, hi Rowan," I replied. "Glad you've come around. Cecile was wanting to have a word."

"Really? what about?"

I outlined Cecile's thinking about the invitation to Christmas dinner. Rowan's smile was apologetic.

"No can do, Jack," he said. "It's our first Christmas in our new home. Angelica wants to have dinner there. You understand that, don't you?"

"'Course I do. I understand perfectly. I'm sure Cecile will too. When you explain it to her."

"Ah. Can't you...?" Rowan began, smiling when I shook my head. "Okay, I'll tell her."

"Has Angelica got something special planned for the meal?"

"I expect so. Her cooking is usually... functional. Not unpleasant but not what you'd call challenging. She'll want to make an effort for Christmas, though. Should be okay, I guess." He sighed. "What about you guys?"

"Shared effort as usual," I summarised before outlining the intended tasks. "I'll be making a special fruit punch and assemble the appetisers. Cecile and Eliza will prepare the soup, the fruit platters and roast vegetables using recipes from Old Bun's Cookbook, although there are some desserts in the last issue of Critter Cuisine that has piqued Eliza's interest. As usual, Merlin will do the main. He says he's doing a mixture of carrot, walnut and wild mushrooms, but he'll encase that in pastry and pipe in a mixture of melted mature cheeses."

"Oh, don't. I'm dribbling."

Merlin likes cooking. When we had an extension built on his side of our house to provide an additional kitchen and bathroom, Merlin helped design it. Whilst both Cecile and Eliza are very good cooks, Merlin is the one who tends to be more adventurous, and he creates some tasty nosh, I can tell you.

"Tell you what," I said, "if there's any left, I'll save you a bit. You can warm it up."

Rowan laughed. "You're a star, Jack."

I glanced at him. "Yeah. A shining beacon in the night." A thought occurred to me. "Hey, will this be the first proper sit-down Christmas dinner you've had in a while? Seeing as you've been on the road for years?"

"Actually, no. That would have been last year when we were camping in Vandykeville. We had dinner with some lovely friends there. I guess that's what started us thinking that it was time we settled down. Fairer on the kids too."

"So that's why you decided to return to Mellowdene? You've never really said."

"A big part of it, I suppose. We've been traveling for so long - the kids all their lives - and my wanderlust wasn't as strong as it was. When it occurred to us that we needed to settle, we did consider Vandykeville, but Angelica reminded me that I'd always said I intended to come back home one day."

"What about this 'wanderlust' as you call it? Do you think that's over with?"

He regarded me with a thoughtful expression on his face, as if he was assessing me. When he answered, he appeared to be choosing his words carefully.

"I know you think I'm a bit whacky. That the tale I told you about the tribal cats, the tunnels and the Land of Men was all out of my imagination. Maybe it was. Hey - maybe their weird fruit drinks contained more than fruit. But I feel that it happened. That I was stranded away from Sylvania for months. And that did take a lot of the wanderlust out of me."

I wasn't used to my brother-in-law being so serious. It was a little unnerving, and yet I felt closer to him than I had for years.

"Wow. That's..."

He reached out and patted my arm. "You don't need to say anything, Jack. It's good to be home. It's heartwarming to see how happy my sister is with you. You've got a great family, mate. So have I. But it's about time we were part of a community and had more than just passing friends. After all, it's not done you any harm."

He stood. "I'd better go and tell Cecile that we won't be having Christmas dinner with you this year, but stress that there'll be other years. That might satisfy her, I suppose."

Before he left the room he turned and looked at me again with that same pensive expression, saying "You're a good mate, Jack. I might be asking your advice soon."

Before I could respond, his face brightened. "Do you think Merlin can be persuaded to do take-out?"

o 0 O 0 o

The Wish List

It's that time of year when Sylvanians start preparing for Christmas. It's a time when our crittizens become even more caring and jolly, trying to think what special things they can do for their friends and family. It is a wonderful time, but it may be a surprise to some that Mellowdene did not always celebrate the period.

We had Christmas when I was a child, but when my grandfather was young it was a new-fangled occasion, brought into the village by newcomers who had moved here from elsewhere in Sylvania. I'm not sure of the origins of the tradition - explanations tend to vary. Why, there is even a legend that it originated in the Land of Men! Maybe it doesn't matter; no doubt our spiritual adviser Kelvin Waters would have a reasonable tale to tell, he being knowledgeable about traditions, beliefs and such. The point is, however Christmas began, Mellowdene is as much involved now as other villages are throughout Sylvania.

One early aspect of the celebrations is the preparation of wish lists. I suspect that, being so soon after Mellowdene Day, our children are in the right frame of mind to do this. After being encouraged to think about gratitude, it is perfectly natural to think about how they can show this. Obviously part of the list is dedicated to things they would like for themselves, but the other part relates to other folk - what they would like to do for them, having recently expressed their gratitude.

In some parts of Sylvania, it is not unknown for critters to use wish lists as the basis for resolutions or even legal documents. We discovered this after an unexpected visitor turned up on our doorstep.

o 0 O 0 o

The visitor was an otter called Tiberius Rivers, an official from the Sylvanian Department of Child Services. He was here because of Orton Butterglove.

"As I said," said Tiberius, "we are grateful that you let us know what had happened to young Orton. His running away has been of great concern to us."

Cecile glanced at me before addressing the official. "It concerned us too. That he should be unhappy enough to run away. It's fortunate he found his family."

Tiberius's smile was pained. "Ah, yes. That's where we have a slight problem. We have no record of him having a family. That's why he came to us."

"We have a shared ancestor," I explained. "Orton is descended from my great uncle Hubert."

"We could look into that, but I'm surprised it didn't come up in our research. Until that is confirmed, the boy will need to come back with me."

Cecile's mouth dropped open. "What?"

Tiberius regarded her but didn't answer, instead saying, "Where is Orton now?"

We hadn't noticed at first, but Brendan had slipped into the room and had witnessed the exchange. When I caught sight of him, he was standing by the door, wide-eyed.

Cecile had rallied. "Never mind that. Why should he leave with you? He's lost his parents. Now you want to tear him away from a stable family?"

He regarded her with a condescending smile. "It isn't just the question of validity of your familial claim, there is a document signed by his parents. It is a legal wish list deposited with us last Christmas."

From his case, he extracted a piece of paper and proceeded to read it aloud. There was one particular section of note.

"In the absence of any other family, we wish to ensure the safety of our son Orton Butterglove should we die or become unable to provide the care he needs. In such circumstances we wish the official Sylvanian authorities to step in to provide that care."

During this recitation, Merlin and Eliza had entered along with Beverley, Russell and Orton. They were briefed on the situation, and unsurprisingly no-one was happy.

Russell wanted a cuddle from Cecile. Eliza held on to Orton. Merlin tried to persuade Tiberius to allow common sense to prevail.

"How about this?" said Merlin. "Kelvin Waters is the village's spiritual leader and a member of the council. He's very much respected and he maintains the records of births, marriages and deaths in Mellowdene. From his interest in genealogy he has contacts all over Sylvania and he is very efficient. He was able to locate previously unknown members of his own family, so I'm certain he could provide the proof that we are related to Orton. We could go and see him now."

"That would only go part way. Go and see Mr Waters if you wish, but bear in mind that the Christmas wish list from the boy's parents must still be considered."

"I don't want to go," Orton sniffed. Eliza held him even more tightly.

"I'm going to see Kelvin anyway," said Merlin, turning and striding towards the door. I noticed Brendan grab his sister's hand and they followed their uncle out of the room.

There was an uncomfortable silence that was eventually broken by Tiberius. "I know this is an unfortunate situation, but we must take Orton's parents' wishes into consideration. And I have to inform you that we're scheduled to catch the riverboat in less than an hour. Unless significant facts to the contrary emerge before then, Orton will be sailing with me. I suggest you say your goodbyes and we will move on to the docks."

Orton extricated himself from Eliza's arms. "Do I really have to go?" he said, wiping his nose.

Tiberius bent down to speak to him. "Yes, lad. I'm sorry you're not happy about it, but it's for the best. It's what your parents wanted."

Orton nodded. "I want my coat if I'm going."

"Alright. But I want your word that you won't try running away when we go to the docks."

"Okay." The boy looked at Eliza. "Don't cry, auntie. I'll be fine."

Tiberius waited until all the hugs were shared and goodbyes were said, then followed him to the hall passage, keeping an eye on the door while Orton went to get his coat.

o 0 O 0 o

The traipse down East Docks Lane was a sad journey. Cecile had remained home with Russell, leaving Eliza and me to accompany Orton and Tiberius.

Oddly, as we approached the wooded area separating the snack bar from the docks, Orton started to walk a little quicker. It was as if he wanted to reach the docks sooner than anyone expected. We were starting to process this information when events accelerated. Tiberius yelled as Orton broke into a run, heading towards the trees. I noticed that Hughie Grunt and Nolly Persis were playing near the foot of a particularly large gnarled tree.

"Orton! What are you doing!" shouted Eliza.

"So much for the boy's word," said Tiberius, clearly exasperated, and he started to run after the fleeing little rabbit. He stopped running when he saw Orton grab a rope from Hughie Grunt and begin to climb rapidly.

When the young rabbit had reached a naturally-flattened wide branch high in the canopy, he sat down and wriggled to get comfortable. It looked as though he was prepared to stay quite some time.

o 0 O 0 o

The riverboat had gone. Tiberius had gone through the phases of frustration, anger and acceptance, and then I accompanied him into the snack bar, uncertain as to the next steps to take. Eliza had stayed outside to keep an eye on Orton, alongside Hughie and Nolly who both wanted to know what was going on.

"Does he go up there often?" asked Tiberius. "And more to the point, how long is he likely to stay up there?"

"Actually," I said, "I've never seen him go up there before. He's never shown that much interest."

"This is a mess. What am I going to tell my colleagues in the office?"

The door opened and Merlin came in, slapping some documents on the table. "You can tell them that we are his family and we are staying together."

Tiberius looked at the intense expression on my older brother's face, and then leafed through the pages set before him. The official sighed. "Very well. I accept this is suitable evidence of a family connection, but we still have to address the issue of the legal wish list. We'd need something equally binding."

The door opened again and this time Beverley came in with a small piece of paper, handing it to Tiberius, who accepted it with a confused expression.

"Uncle Merlin sent me to see Mayor Nettlefield with Orton's Christmas Wish List," Beverley said, triumph echoing through her words, "and it's been officially stamped."

"It's a legal document, now" said Merlin. "Do you want to read it out?"

Tiberius scanned it, and relief crept onto his face. "This should do it," he said before reading it aloud.

"My Christmas Wish List by Orton Butterglove. I wish that Uncle Merlin and Auntie Eliza will always be there with me and even when mamma and dadda come back we can all still live in Mellowdene."

"There you go," I said.

Tiberius laughed. "Even though he didn't keep his word and ran away, it should be enough."

"I do keep my word," said a voice. We looked, and there was Orton. We hadn't seen him enter. "I didn't go to the docks with you. I went with Beverley to see the mayor."

"Then who..."

Two more people entered the snack bar -  Eliza and the small figure in the hooded coat.

Once the hood had been removed and the wearer struggled to remove the coat, we were no longer surprised.

Brendan handed the coat back to Orton. "You should go to Kittie Camp next year, cousin. But don't climb in your coat. It makes you too hot."

o 0 O 0 o