An Unexpected Letter

It was one of those ordinary days. The children were at school, Merlin was at work at the library. Cecile was working on a design for her next cake. Eliza had taken Russell to the nursery and was helping out there. I had put away the shopping and was about to settle down and consider some new lyrics that Chris Snow-Warren had written. As I said, an ordinary day.

When a visitor came to our door, it was no longer an ordinary day.

The cat on the doorstep seemed familiar but I didn't instantly identify him. It was the conventional clothes. The realisation that this was a one of the cats from the Mist Cat tribe came only seconds before the visitor spoke.

"Good morning, Jackson. Perhaps you remember me. Felixor from the West Buniyi Mountains?  I hoped you would have time for a chat. I want to provide you with some news."

o 0 O 0 o

Upon inviting him inside, I took his coat then made it clear that Cecile would be present whilst he spoke.

"As it should be," he commented.

He declined a drink, getting down to business straight away.

"I have been visiting our mutual friend Tara Lapine-Frost. I note she is making progress after her injury; she tells me that she will be allowed to put some weight on her leg soon. I admit I didn’t fully expect her to follow doctor's orders so stringently. "

"She trusts Henry Bearbury."

"Ah, Henry. I've had dealings with him when he was at the Greybear Clinic. A clever doctor with an open mind."

"Mellowdene is lucky to have him back."

"Indeed." He paused, probably gathering his thoughts. "Well, Tara suggested I speak with you. It concerns your brother Merlin and his wife."

"Eliza."

"Eliza. Yes. It is in regard to the boy, Orton."

Cecile, who had been purposely keeping quiet, chose to end her silence.

"Are you going to tell us that Orton's parents are returning? Martyn and Erika Butterglove are going to unsettle him again?"

"Cess..." I began.

"Never mind 'Cess', Jack. We need to know."

 Felixor regarded Cecile with interest. "I appreciate this is a difficult situation. That's why I'm here to clarify matters. Tara was handling it, but her accident meant that the tribe became more involved."

"Let him explain, Cess," I said, attempting a concilatory voice. It must have worked. She took a deep breath and nodded.

"Firstly, I have to refer back to the time you discovered that the Burroughs were alive and had chosen not to return to their son. And apologies if I refer to Martyn and Erika as Burroughs rather than Buttergloves - that's how they introduced themselves and how we know them.

"Your outrage affected Marenna, our Felista - I suppose that would be 'matriarch' in your terminology. Because we live in a different way to villagers such as yourself, you may not realise that we also cherish family. The fact you reacted as you did to the apparent abandonment of the child Orton made Marenna take a personal interest.

"She wanted to know everything about the situation. She has had Tara give her a regular commentary on Orton's life, and she updated the Burroughs. Continues to do so. As she saw it, they needed to know the consequences of their actions."

I exchanged glances with Cecile.

"And that has led you here," I said, wondering how Orton's fate would be affected.

"In a sense. I understand that the Burroughs were, of course, concerned about being separated from their child, but after the long separation they were also concerned about the effects of their return. They were in a quandary."

"We suspected that," I commented.

"When they heard of the care you were providing, especially by Merlin and Eliza, it provided them with comfort."

Cecile raised her eyes. "So long as they're happy..." She shook her head. "Ignore me."

Felixor smiled grimly. "Yes. Well, the steady supply of news about Orton prompted the Burroughs to break their silence. They sent a letter."

He produced an unsealed envelope and handed it to me.

I looked at the envelope. "Is this for Merlin and Eliza?"

Felixor pointed. "It is, but note that it's unsealed on purpose. The Burroughs are aware of you and how you came to search for them. They want you to read it too. They even had me read it so I can vouch that the sentiments are genuine."

"Go on, Jack," urged Cecile, "read it aloud."

o 0 O 0 o

To Cousin Merlin and Eliza

When we decided we needed to send this letter we discussed how we should begin, and agreed almost immediately.

Thank you.

Thank you for giving our son a home. For giving him love. And for giving him something we could not. A childhood.

Erika and I are not typical Sylvanians. We've known that all our lives. We have the normal Sylvanian values - nature, family and love - but in our case, nature was the most dominant. 

We live to preserve the beauty of our land - the flora and fauna - but particularly the animal life. Conservation is our primary aim. Neither of us expected to find a soul mate in each other, and we were lucky to do so.

When our beautiful son Orton came along, we hoped to share our joy in nature, and it seemed ideal. Although we love him dearly we now realise we failed him in many respects - our dedication to conservation caused him to miss out. Despite his warm nature and willingness to share in our work, we missed the point. He is a child and he needs to do children's things.

Never think we do not love him. Part of that is the desire to keep him safe. We were aware he needed protection in case something happened to us. When we were shipwrecked we were comforted to know his welfare was already arranged.

 

That kept us going when we believed we could never return. Throwing ourselves into our work helped us cope. We then saw that work would make an immense difference to the conservation efforts we championed. Maybe we were selfish in that aim. Nevertheless, by then we believed our precious boy would be settled, associating with children of his own age. Time had passed when we discovered there was a way home after all, but did we have the right? Maybe it was best he remained settled. With that thought, we carried on with our work.

We did not realise that our arrangements would not suit his needs, and discovering that he ran away breaks our hearts. And yet we knew our independent little boy would endure. That he found his distant family makes us proud. That the family welcomed him with open arms, gave him love and stability makes us happy beyond belief.

Hearing about you, dear cousin, how Orton has become an integral part of your family, how he appears to be so happy - it raises such contradictory feelings in us.  Even with our love, how could we wrench our boy from the type of home we would have liked to give him, but didn’t?

We have decided that the best way we can show our love as parents is to leave our darling boy with you.

When we return, as I suppose we must one day, I don't know how will explain our actions. Maybe this letter will help. He is an intelligent lad. If and when he reads it - I will leave that up to you.

Sylvanian Children's Services will be informed you have our formal blessing to raise our boy with the balanced values you so clearly exhibit. Not the skewed values that have brought us to this point.

Once again, we thank you. Our love and confidence in you will be there always.

Martyn and Erika Butterglove

o 0 O 0 o

I looked up from reading. "I didn't expect..."

"No," said Cecile.

Felixor was watching me. "I feel I should say that I had misgivings bringing the letter. Not because I have any doubts about the Burroughs being sincere; mainly because it could put added pressure on your brother and what to tell the boy - if anything."

"And yet you did," said Cecile. "What changed your mind?"

"I realised it was not my place to interfere. Merlin deserves the full information. He may have decisions to make, but if he has your courage..."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Tara eventually told me of your part in the search for the Burroughs. You did this in spite of actions that made you uncomfortable or even fearful. She says you did not really want to enter the tunnels beneath Sylvania."

"Maybe not. But Orton is family."

"Precisely. For this you have the respect of our Felista, from me, and by association, all the Mist Cat tribe."

Cecile gave me a loving smile. "And me."

"I should assure you," Felixor continued, "despite her unfortunate accident in the snowfields, Tara is one of the most capable rabbits I've met. She'd have kept you well away from the dangerous areas."

"Like the doorways to the Land of Men?" I ventured. 

"That, and others."

"Others?"

"Yes." He continued to watch me - maybe assessing me. "I suppose there's no harm in telling you. Your brother Newton is well aware of these matters."

"He is close-lipped on the details of his work."

"That doesn't surprise me, although as he's your twin I hope I can rely on you to be equally discreet." He took a breath. "There are unusual energies within the tunnels. One theory is that they are there because they bind Sylvania to the world inhabited by humans. A side-effect is the compression of space... but never mind the scientific jargon - in simple terms it creates the speed tunnels and what you probably call portals. However, the energy is at its wildest in a central area where no-one chooses to venture. The Mist Cat avoid going there, and it is one of the reasons we discourage idle wandering." 

I thought back to Rowan's "idle wandering" that brought him to the Land of Men. (* see The Real World.) I then noticed Felixor was regarding me earnestly.

"My point in telling you this is that Tara will have kept you well away from such unstable areas. As she would if you came again."

"He won't be," said Cecile, pointedly.

"If he did, the tribe would also keep him safe," said Felixor.

"I was brave last time," said Cecile, her voice quiet as she spoke to the Mist Cat tribesman, "but when I thought Jack was lost, it was terrible. I remembered how my brother going there led to him being lost to me for ten years."

I knew this had been a concern but it was the first time she'd said it out loud to anyone other than me. I wanted to hug her. We would hug later. For now, reassurances would do.

"I don't intend to return, Felixor."

"Understandable." He looked at Cecile. "For what it's worth, we've known for some time that Rowan Ivory was not responsible for us being temporarily stranded in the human world. When he returned with Tara, he chose to adopt a low profile and keep traveling. Had we known where he had gone..."

He broke off. We all knew he couldn't change the past. I knew - and deep down, Cecile knew - that Felixor was not to blame for Rowan's extended absence. That was mainly due to Rowan misinterpreting the situation, overreacting to a retribution that never would have happened.

There was nothing else to be said. Felixor realised this.

"I respect your decision," he smiled, and then he stood. "Well, I've delivered the letter. I should be on my way."

"Thank you.'

"Good luck, Jackson." He nodded to Cecile. "Mrs Butterglove."

We accompanied Felixor to the front door then returned to discuss the letter.

"What do you think Merlin will do, Jack? Will he tell Orton now?"

"I don't know, love."

"But it does sound like Orton is here to stay. That's good news, isn't it?"

"Oh, definitely."

We made our way back to the settee to relax.

Cecile laughed.

 "What?"

"It explains why, when Charity, Bobbie and I met for afternoon tea with Tara, the subject of Orton's latest activities used to crop up so often."

"Tara is... Tara."

"Yes. She is indeed."

o 0 O 0 o 

Another Melting

Yes. It's that time of year; the Melting Festival is upon us again - Mellowdene's annual event that celebrates the special season of spring. As usual, the local creation myth of the region - that of the Snow Queen - is the focal point. The degree of belief varies, of course, but all agree that we are incredibly lucky to live in Sylvania whether or not our land was created by the sacrifice of a beneficent being. 

I was unable to attend last year (which didn’t go down too well with the family) but last year was unusual with all the prep for the Sylvan River musical. No such barriers this year. In fact, there had been suggestions that this Melting could include a few songs from the show, but performed by residents. I discussed this with a few people.

o 0 O 0 o

The first morning, as is our tradition, my family walked to the village green and looked up at the statue.

 

Brendan turned to his sister. "Beverley?"

"Mmm?"

"Why is the Snow Queen a rabbit?"

"Okay, what's the punchline?"

 

"I'm not joking," smiled my boy. "I was wondering - how do we know that the Snow Queen looked like a rabbit? Why not a squirrel? A beaver? A bear?"

Beverley frowned. "I don't know." She turned to us. "Mum? Dad?"

Cecile pondered. "The Snow Queen's been represented by a rabbit since Mellowdene was founded. The first residents were solely rabbits. The four families."

"So that's why the statue was made like this?" asked Brendan.

"Probably," I replied, but I was thinking of Darcy Fielding and his story about the Dreamstone. He had touched the Dreamstone and had been rewarded with a vision of the Snow Queen and the creation myth. He didn't say whether he'd seen a rabbit or a mouse. Did the fact our rabbit founders had touched the Dreamstone tailor their beliefs to see a rabbit? Did it matter? Probably not. 

My experiences over the last couple of years had shown me that the world holds much we cannot explain. I've never been driven the same way as my brothers. Merlin would no doubt trawl through all the library reference books. Newton would consult with his fellow scientists. My response is oddly more practical - much like Cecile in that respect. If something appears inexplicable but it doesn't affect our lives, I don't waste time on it.

Brendan turned back to Beverley. "If the founders had been worms, the statue would have been an easier shape to sculpt."

She laughed. "You are daft, Brendan. How would they hold the chisel?"

We all laughed. I do love my children.

 

o 0 O 0 o

One regular feature of the Melting in recent years has been the bunny hunt. Frasier Chocolate has created hundreds of chocolate bunnies over the years, and his brother Niles has always taken the responsibility to hide them all around the village green. They've tried variations on scoring - the "by weight" idea wasn't the best - and finding the most bunnies tends to be simplest to administer. Saying that, it still has its issues. With the number of children participating, Frasier had to ensure that there were sufficient chocolate bunnies in order that the most successful searchers didn't leave others with nothing. That's why they tried something different this year.

The prize was still a large chocolate bunny, but the items to seek were now chocolate eggs. One reason, Frasier says, is that they are easier to create in quantity. Of course, the children needed to understand the change in the game rules. That was the responsibility of one of their teachers - the one who helps organise the Melting events. Eve Wildwood.

o 0 O 0 o

A sea of children faced Eve Wildwood on the village green. A number were fidgeting whilst she attempted - for the third time - to explain the alterations to the bunny hunt.

 

"No," she responded to one confused child. "You won't be hunting for chocolate bunnies. But the winner of the hunt will still win the big chocolate bunny that Mister Chocolate has kindly donated. That's why we're still calling it a bunny hunt."

There was a murmur. Eve sighed. "As I've said, you'll still be hunting, but it will be for chocolate eggs." She heard a comment from Daisy Cottontail. "Alright, Daisy. If you want to call it an egg hunt, call it that."

  

There were exchanged glances, shrugs and nods, but still signs that not all participants fully understood. 

"Okay. I'll go through the rules again."

She explained slowly and clearly - I suspect she'd practised the various approaches in what she was going to say in order to minimise misunderstandings - and this time she broke the rules down into stages.

"Stage one is much like it was before except that team searching doesn't work the same. You've been given a name flag for yourself - not a team - and all the chocolate eggs you find go towards your individual count. You must place all the eggs you collect by your flag, and the whistle tells you when to stop."

 

"Stage two is new. All the eggs you find will be decorated with some coloured icing. This doesn't matter when you are collecting the eggs. You still try and collect as many as you can in stage one. But in stage two you are told which colour you need. This may appear to be good news - if you've collected six red eggs and you're told you need red ones, you score six. But if you've got other colours in the six, you've got more work to do."

"In previous years, some children didn't do very well on the bunny hunt - maybe because they're too young, or haven't got your skill in hunting quickly. Stage three helps them."

"Using the previous example where you need red eggs, if you have collected six eggs but some are not the colour you need, you need to seek out someone needing that colour.  Swapping is allowed if they have red eggs, but that isn't the only option. If you bring them to one of the hunt supervisors, you'll be given a replacement red egg for the one you give away. But if you're giving an egg to someone who had no eggs or had fewer than you, you'll be given a bonus egg. That can mean you'll get two for each one you give away."

"Stage four is scoring. If someone has the most eggs, they win the big chocolate bunny. If there's a tie, there will be a lucky dip to get more eggs. For those who are tied, they will all extract another egg. The first to get more of their colour wins."

I thought it was unnecessarily complicated, but I may have been underestimating the children. The desire for chocolate might focus their minds! I could see some groups of children already discussing what they would do - but for others... 

 

 

At least the less capable children might increase their quota. Time would tell.   

"I think that's everything," said Eve Wildwood, scanning the eager faces of the children. "Now, before we begin, does anyone have any questions?"

"Yes. Me," piped up a solitary voice. It was Button Honeydew.

 

"Button? Okay - what's your question?"

"Why don't rabbits lay eggs?"

Eve slowly blinked. Obviously she had encountered the boy's insatiable curiosity on previous occasions. Before she could respond, someone intervened.

"I've got this, Eve," said Vivienne Honeydew, coming forward. "Button - you're off subject. We can discuss that at home."

 

"But Miss Wildwood asked if we have ANY questions..."

"Do you really want to delay the bunny hunt?"

"Er.. no, Mum. We can discuss my question later."

Eve Wildwood watched the exchange. "Good. Any other questions? About the new rules?" She paused briefly. "No?"

There were still a few confused faces but there was silence. Clearly no one wanted to delay getting their chocolate any longer.

 

She sighed. "Never mind. We'll sort things out as we go along. Alright?"

 

Nods. 

"Good. Then... make sure you have your name flag and go hunting!"

o 0 O 0 o

The order of events changed this year. Normally, the musical entertainment precedes the bunny hunt - or egg hunt, if you want to follow Daisy Cottontail's logic - but sometimes practical issues get in the way. Like an unpublicised performance by Lionel Grand.

We all settled to hear the maestro play a set of his famous songs - and these were supplemented by his piano premiere of tunes from the Sylvan River. A special guest of Roxanne Renoir - our own Roxy Renard - made for a memorable concert.

 o 0 O 0 o

Having provided the hundreds of chocolate eggs and the big prize, Frasier Chocolate was excused any administrative duties associated with the tidy-up of the bunny hunt and these were delegated elsewhere. During the music performances, Frasier ambled up to my side. He nodded towards the stage platform.

"Well, Jackson. You kept that quiet. Songs from your musical arranged and played by Lionel Grand? That's a coup. Wonderful to hear Roxy again too."

I smiled and took him to one side. "He volunteered. Now that he's got a house in Mellowdene, he sometimes drives down for the weekend."

"Marvellous."

"And what about your revised bunny hunt? Are you happy with how it went?"

"Generally, yes. I expected there to be some confusion with the rules, but there was less than I anticipated. It was successful in that it ensured all the children got a share of the chocolate. We might have to vary it next year."

"Why's that?"

"I heard that William & Walter Waters said they'd need to work on a strategy for their nieces and nephews to use. Swap eggs before the colours were assigned, maximising their ability to do two-for-one swaps. Work out statistics to see if they'd benefit from some Waters children not keeping eggs during the search."

"Ah, I see. So that they'd benefit from donated eggs from their siblings who in turn..."

"...would get two eggs from the supervisors."

"It doesn't sound like it's in the spirit of the game."

"No, but it's not against the rules. We'll need to outthink them next year."

"I have every confidence in you, Fraze." I noticed that Lionel was commencing of the last song of his set. "But I think we should go and watch the grand finale."

"Oh, very witty."

 

As Lionel and Roxy took their bows, I thought about the Waters children and smiled inwardly. They did like their chocolate, and their uncles Willie and Wally enjoyed the challenge in getting a win - irrespective of it being a bunny hunt or an egg hunt.

 o 0 O 0 o