All right. I would think that only a few of you have read a preview to a story which all in all, according to me and other people I am sure, sucked. But, then again, I am sure that many of you know that tons of professional authors say that re-writing always helps.
Well, I have added new characters, kept and took out old ones and added extra description. I should hope that you will enjoy this first chapter better than you should like the one I wrote before!
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Chapter I: The Rabbits
Most stories are told by heroes. They do heroic deeds, rescuing damsels in distress or slaying dragons to get whatever they desire, whether it is gold, respect, or glory. If these are what you seek in a story, then let me inform you that you are not going to find it.
Russell wouldn’t be considered a hero by most people, if their standard of a hero is somebody who fights for a treasure. Russell doesn’t need gold. He runs a cherry orchard which makes plenty of it. Respect also isn’t required. Russell does not desire it. And glory? Russell does not strive to have power nor magnificence.
When you see a cat in Emberbrook with black and silver stripes, white paws, chin, and belly and a light brown fur and half a tail, will you ask him to tell you a story? I doubt it.
And yet, Russell has a fascinating story to tell, and it all began the day after he had finished university, studying botany just like his friend, Cooper Rabbit Jr.
Mr. Rabbit was dark brown with black paws and feet. He had a broad chest and a pair of rimless spectacles sat on his nose. Though he was younger than the insecure Russell, he had developed a distinct personality. He never laughed, seldom smiled, and despised change above all else, making him a strict conservative. Russell, on the other hand, never voted, because he could never make up his mind on which candidate to pick.
Since Cooper was so emotionless, everyone he knew was greatly surprised when he married Margaret Charlotte Bunny, a golden rabbit with white paws who seemed to experience only two emotions: intolerably happy or what seemed to be on the verge of suicide with her despair.
They had married just a few months ago and they had already invited Russell over for a visit once, in which Russell had brought them a bottle of cherry cider which he had made the week before, so he would be sure to bring another one if he came again.. After having to go to the bathroom once at 11:30 in university, and having Cooper getting mad at him for not going the next day at the same time, Russell was sure to do everything that he did more than once.
It was November the twenty-second when Russell had woke up, pulled on a pair of slippers and a housecoat, (“It is just too cold,” he informed himself out loud,) and went to check the mail, which he did every day.
He was surprised to see a letter in his mailbox; it was the first one he had ever received since he had moved to Emberbrook. It was in a blue envelope and was sealed with yellow sealing wax.
Russell went to his kitchen in which a tiny table sat in the corner. He poured himself some coffee as he set the letter down upon his table, pouring an overlarge amount of sugar into his drink and just a tad of cream. He then stationed himself at his table and slit a hole in the side of the envelope, which he quickly was sorry to do as he found it such a nice-looking envelope.
He quickly found a letter which had fallen out of the envelope and into his paw. Russell was relieved to see that it had his name on it, and henceforth it must be for him. He was always worried that the mailman had got mixed up, but then again, he knew that Hans Krutchen, quite a respectable hedgehog, would never get mixed up. He was more organized than Cooper, who would calmly bite his own hand until it bled if he lost something.
Russell Tip-Tips,
I am here to inform you that you are invited to eat a marvelous dinner of carrot stew at the residence of the Rabbits for the second time in your dreary life as a bachelor.
Russell was shaken by the harsh comment at the end but happy about the invitation. He read on, though:
You may have noticed that last time you came you brought us a bottle of cherry cider. Be sure to bring one again. I know you have a habit of forgetting to finish things you start, Mr. Tip-Tips. Come on November the twenty-second in the morning at 11:00.
Thank you,
-Cooper & Margaret Rabbit
The manx cat remembered his subconscious promise to bring Cooper another bottle, and so he promised to remind himself to bring out another bottle from his dusty pantry, which when he realized that he had finished the letter, did immediately.
Since it was 9:47 and he was expected to be around Apple Grove and into the Rabbit’s burrow by 11:00 (and Mrs. Rabbit was usually put into a state of trauma if guest come late,) Russell head out the door.
After being nipped by the cold November wind Russell was harshly awakened by an undoubtedly chilling (literally) fact: he had forgotten his jacket.
Russell zipped through his cabin’s door once again and spotted his tan leather jacket which was decorated with fancy beads. He had received it from Archimedes June, a scientist from Windriver whose name Russell had never forgot. After being locked out of his temporary apartment there and forced to sit in the blistering cold, receiving a jacket from a stranger was quite an act of kindness, which Russell was never quick on forgetting.
Russell was also never quick on forgetting to put on the jacket after being attacked by the worlds plain enemy (only according to Russell and not the world
frost.
It was plain to see that Russell very much enjoyed this jacket, as he said those very words as he slipped his arms through the sleeves and saw his paws pop out of the ends. He didn’t only put on the jacket, no. He also wore a warm smile as he buttoned the jacket up.
The November chill was hardly a problem when Russell was shaking paws with Andrea Ocelot, his neighbor, who was going to give Russell a loaf of homemade bread which Russell declined, being caught up in walking to the Rabbit’s home.
Oh, how Russell did enjoy November’s colors! The leaves of Emberbrook were turning blues, yellows, reds, oranges, pinks and purples, very much unlike the browns and oranges in the city of Windriver. Almost all of the animals of Emberbrook were having large dinners with friends and family, as many of them had plenty of food for the winter.
Since the young cat enjoyed the scenery so much, he was almost sad to knock on the door of the Rabbit’s cottage when he got there. In fact, he was about to go back home when a golden bunny bustled to the front door and welcomed Russell in, reminding him to wipe his feet very politely.
“Mr. Rabbit is in the living room,” Margaret Rabbit informed Russell as she took his jacket (which Russell was none too slow to thank her for.)
Mrs. Rabbit was correct. There, in the living room, in a scarlet armchair, Cooper was stationed, holding an edition of the Ferret (one of Emberbrook’s few magazines) and wearing a neat colorful hand knitted sweater. It took Mr. Rabbit a few seconds before he finally let the Ferret drop from his hand and finally spoke to Russell, who was standing stupidly in the middle of the living room with his hat in his hand.
“Sit down, Russell,” he commanded. Not even after Russell was securely sitting on a dull brown couch across from Mr. Rabbit when he added, “And put the cider upon the coffee-table.” Russell smiled at his demanding friend.
“Could you please be pickier?” Russell asked sarcastically and jokingly. Cooper kept a straight face. “No. I intend to keep my attitude this way,” he said as Mrs. Rabbit bustled into the living room with two goblets for the cherry cider. (“Thank you, Mrs. Rabbit,” Russell said.)
Once Mrs. Rabbit had went back to the kitchen, Cooper brought up a new topic: riddles. “If the hunting abilities of a cat are high, what does that make low?” he asked Russell. Russell thought for a moment, and after getting the riddle, he decided to tell Cooper that he didn’t know. Russell found that if the answer to a riddle was found by the person who originally didn’t know it, the riddle was spoiled.
“The courage of a mouse,” Cooper explained to Russell after he went through with his plan.
“What can look like anything but is thinner than nothing?” Russell asked, before Cooper went to another topic. Cooper, being almost intolerably good at riddles, got it immediately: “A shadow,” he said.
After this followed a pause, in which the odd sip of cider or a cough was heard. This lasted about a minute before Mr. Rabbit, who usually brought up topics, brought up the topic of honey farmers.
“Those bees in Skystream, they are most definitely not co-operative with my brother Evan,” Cooper began. Evan was a bee farmer who worked near Skystream, a town slightly north of Emberbrook.
“Hmmm…but then again, those bees are poorly treated. It makes sense that they don’t produce honey,” Russell said in his friend Owen Sting’s defense, who was a bee who belonged to the Skystream bee farm.
“They always worked hard before,” Cooper argued back.
“Maybe they only now decided that they weren’t going to take that injustice,” Russell stated.
“Maybe they should make up their mind on whether they were going to take injustice or not when they took the job,” Cooper said.
“If you’re going to give someone a job,” Russell began. “And you know that you’re going to be mean to them once they got it, do you think they’d take the job if they knew that their employer was to be a complete dunce?”
“There’s so few job options for a bee that I would think that they would have to,” said Cooper.
“That doesn’t correct the fact that they’re poorly treated,” said Russell.
“That doesn’t correct that fact that they’re being poor employees,” said Cooper.
“You two’s arguing doesn’t negate the fact that it’s time for dinner,” Mrs. Rabbit said, who seemed to appear in the living room door. The two friends stared at each other for a while before Russell said calmly, “To each his own, eh Cooper?”
Cooper rolled up his newspaper and bopped Russell on the head with it before heading towards the kitchen. Cooper was never a good sport with compromises.
And Russell, eager to get his hands on Mrs. Rabbit’s carrot stew, followed suit and sat down in the Rabbit’s kitchen.
Mrs. Rabbit was wearing oven mitts and brining the pot of boiling stew to the cherry wood table on which Cooper sat, munching on a biscuit. China bowls and silver silverware was neatly placed on the table.
“Would you like some carrot stew, Russell?” asked Mrs. Rabbit politely as she took up the ladle and scooped up some of the delicious, bubbling dinner. Russell was quick to say, “Yes, please!” and before he could even say “thank you” he had some in his bowl.
Cooper was served shortly after Russell, and then Mrs. Rabbit. Russell picked up his spoon and was ready to take a spoonful when Mrs. Rabbit said, “Russell!” in a high pitched and rather obnoxious voice, though nobody told her. “We must say grace first. Cooper, please do the honors.”
Cooper hesitated for a moment, then wrote a note in his memorandum book, and then folded his hands and closed his eyes. “Father in heav-”
“Russell isn’t closing his eyes,” Mrs. Rabbit interrupted. Cooper and Russell stared at her blankly for a moment before Cooper said, “Well, how would YOU know if he wasn’t closing his eyes unless your eyes weren’t closed, Margaret Charlotte Rabbit?” Mrs. Rabbit considered for a second, then shrugged her shoulders, folded her hands and closed her eyes.
“Father in heaven, bless this food to our bodies. Give Russell a real job, please,” Mr. Rabbit said in a low drone that almost seemed like a hum. One could barely even make out what he was saying.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Cooper?” Russell asked his friend, choosing to ignore the fact that Cooper had insulted his profession. Cooper folded his hands and closed his eyes once again, and continued his prayer. “Give Russell a real job, please. Thank you,” he ended the prayer. “Oh. Amen,” he added.
The meal was quite uneventful. They ate, Cooper took notes in his memorandum book, and Russell spilled once or twice. Once Cooper had taken his fourth note, Russell checked his memorandum book. He had cherry picking today!
“Sorry, Cooper. Thank you for the meal, Mrs. Rabbit. I have to go!” he said, and without another word from the Rabbits nor Russell, he darted out the door.
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I must say that I am proud of the whole storyline that I have picked out, which will be revealed soon enough. Yes, the first chapter was lengthy, I suppose.
Anyway, I would like to be judged the conversations. That, I think, is where my writing goes down in quality.
Also, if you can think of anything else, judge me on that too!
