The Story Shell: A Tale of Friendship Bog (7 page)

The pulley rose higher and higher as it pulled the shell up out of the water.

“There it is,” Zip cried.

She leaned down for the shell. “Oh, I’m so glad to see this!”

“It’s all yours,” Pibbin said, and he slipped the thread off the shell.

Zip carried it to shore, looking as if she held a treasure in her paws.

Now. All he had to do was untie the string and coil it up. He took it and the pulley over to where Carpenter stood.

“Thank you very much,” Pibbin said. “Will you be coming to the party tonight?”

Carpenter tucked the pulley under one arm. “A nice piece of work, young Pibbin. I must say, you surprised me.”

His face didn’t look as stern now. “After all this, I think I just might drop over. I’m kind of curious about that story.”

“Oh, please! Please, Mom!”

The squirrel children crowded around Zip, begging to come to Gaffer’s party.

Zip glanced at Pibbin and he nodded, so they scampered off to get ready.

Pibbin wished he had left an hour ago.

He wanted to check on Leeper, and talk to Miss Green, and give Skitter the good news. But he wasn’t going to let that shell out of his sight.

Long shadows were creeping across the bog by the time they started for Gaffer’s house.

Zip had put the shell into a bag, along with a jar of black-ant jam for Gaffer.

And she would add a hundred words, Pibbin thought. Skitter might give Zip a scolding, but Gaffer would just listen and smile.

When they reached Gaffer’s tree, Zip told her children to wait outside on the deck. She climbed up to Gaffer’s door, and Pibbin followed.

“Come on in!” Skitter said. She took one look at Zip’s face and asked, “What happened?”

Zip opened the bag and showed her the shell. “I had it,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

Skitter gazed at the shell and then at Zip. “Thank you.” She smiled. “Thank you very much.”

Zip nodded. “Where would you like me to put it?”

“The party will start soon,” Skitter said. “On the deck would be best.”

Zip took the shell back down, and Pibbin heard her telling the squirrel children to watch it.

Skitter was beaming. “I’ll go clean up the shell,” she said, “but how did Zip get it? Those weren’t squirrel tracks we saw.”

“I’ll tell you later,” Pibbin said.

It would take a long time, and he was tired. Besides, he couldn’t stop thinking about Leeper.

“Oh,” Skitter said. “Since you’re here, could you help Gaffer?”

Alix wanted to help too, so he and Pibbin took boxes of presents to the deck.

They set up tables under the pine trees. They filled pitchers with mint tea. They carried down cookies, and muffins, and nut cakes, and everything else that Skitter had made.

“What’s that?” Alix pointed to a dish with soft black bits of something in it.

Pibbin smiled. “That’s Gaffer’s favorite. Sweet-and-sour slugs.”

By now, a dozen frogs had gathered, along with many of Gaffer’s other friends.

Mrs. Rabbit had come with most of her children.

Pibbin recognized a few of the squirrels and chipmunks, but he didn’t know very many of the turtles, except for Sheera.

A family of brown bats flew back and forth and then hung quietly in the bushes. Chewink perched nearby.

A yellow moon rose through the trees with a soft glow that made everyone smile. The story shell rested by Gaffer’s rocking chair, and Pibbin thought it gleamed more brightly than ever.

Some of Gaffer’s friends crowded around him with happy-birthday wishes, and others helped themselves to Skitter’s goodies. Soon it would be time for the story.

Not a sign of Leeper. Was he still lying under those blueberry bushes?

“What’s the matter?” Alix asked.

“My pal. He’s not here. He hurt his leg, and now I’m afraid something else has happened to him.”

“Look!” Alix pointed. “There’s two more frogs.”

A tall spotted frog limped out of the shadows and paused, leaning on his crutches. Leeper!

And, right beside him, came Carpenter. It wasn’t hard to guess who had made Leeper’s crutches.

Leeper waved a crutch, and Pibbin hurried over, with Alix close behind.

“You found it!” Leeper said.

Pibbin nodded, and he let Alix tell how they’d pulled the shell out of the bog.

Leeper grinned at Alix. “So you’ve been part of Pibbin’s great adventure, have you?”

“Yes,” Alix said, “but how about—”

He asked one question after another until he’d found out everything Pibbin had done that day.

Finally Gaffer lifted a hand, and all the friends stopped talking.

“I am thankful to see you tonight,” Gaffer said. “I think this must be my happiest birthday ever. Do you know why?”

“I heard your story shell came back,” a spotted turtle said.

Gaffer smiled. “Yes, it certainly did.”

A white-footed mouse fluttered her soft ears. “Is it true that you've got to have your shell, or you can’t tell stories?”

Gaffer shook his head. “Not quite.” He smiled again. “Not really.”

A woodchuck spoke from the back of the crowd. “But how do you do it? Where do your stories come from?”

The mice were nodding, and so were the chipmunks.

The rabbits, who were great story-tellers, twitched up their ears.

“This is what happens,” Gaffer said. “I think about my story for a long time. When I’m ready, I sit close to the shell and listen.”

He bent toward the shell. “I hear a sound like the wind in the pines, and I get quiet inside. I like to think that the quietness makes my voice stronger.”

He smiled. “Maybe it does. But the story comes from my heart.”

“What?” Skitter looked amazed. “I thought you kept your stories in the shell.”

“No.” Gaffer’s voice was gentle. “The shell is like a good friend.”

He gazed at Pibbin with a light in his eyes.

“Friends are important,” he said. “Sometimes we have to learn how to get along without them, and it’s hard. But when they come back, it’s a great joy.”

Pibbin glanced over at Leeper. His pal was grinning as if he’d just caught the tastiest bug in the bog.

“Tell, tell, tell!” sang the peepers.

“Right you are,” Gaffer said. “Now I have a story to tell.”

He leaned close to the shell, and everyone settled themselves to listen.

Leeper propped his crutches on the edge of the deck and stretched out his legs.

Carpenter sat nearby.

Pibbin climbed up onto a branch so he could hear better, and Alix went with him.

“Watch out,” Alix said. “There’s a snake up above us.”

“That’s Miss Green,” Pibbin said. “She’s safe.” He would have plenty to tell her about this day.

The slender green snake glided down the tree to join them.

Gaffer took a deep breath and began.

Long, long ago, a pair of beavers left their lodges in the North.

“Too crowded,” they said. “We need a beautiful place to live.”

And they swam down the Toop River.

They passed golden meadows and thick green forests, but they didn’t stop.

At last they came to a wide, swampy spot in the river. Pine trees and birch trees and berry bushes grew nearby.

“This is beautiful,” they said. “We’ll make our new home here, and we can tell all of our friends to join us.”

Right along behind them came a family of intrepid frogs.

Alix leaned close to Pibbin. “What’s
intrepid
mean?”

“Kind of like . . . they’re brave, and they don’t give up.”

“Okay,” Alix said. He nodded. “Like you.”

Miss Green dipped her head, nodding too. She smiled at Pibbin, and he smiled back.

Map of Friendship Bog