Squirrel Story
Written by Chiz

One day while I was doing some urban gardening, loading my wheelbarrow with chunks of asphalt that had managed to work their way onto my lawn and was carrying it around to the back of the garage to empty it. I turned the corner and before me was a ring of thirty or so squirrels bopping up and down, chitering and waving their tails back and forth. In the center of the circle were two squirrels circling each other. Their left paws had been tied together with a twist-tie and in their right paws were exacto blades, claws holding them securely through the slot in the base. Some of the squirrels closest to me chattered a warning at me and then turned back to watch the fight. I recognized the bigger of the two squirrels in the ring. His name was Big Cheeks, although all the other squirrels called him The Chin when he wasn’t around because of some incident I never figured out. The smaller younger one I had seen around but didn’t know his name. They seemed to be oblivious to my presence, just another stupid human.

What they didn’t know was that I had dated a squirrel five years ago and she had taught me their language. I can understand it better than I can speak it. I still remember nights when we were together, lying awake in the darkness with her lying on top of me. We would talk away the night while I lazily stroked her tail.

The crowd seemed split half chanting for Big Cheeks the other half for Mr. Pooftail, the younger squirrel, and a few of them just screamed in way that told me they didn’t care who’s blood it was as long as they got to see it. Big Cheeks and Mr. Pooftail circled slowly, making halfhearted faints at each other while looking for an opening to exploit. I might not be up on the local squirrel customs but I still knew that this was a fight for dominance. Big Cheeks controlled about twenty blocks of territory. A huge kingdom in squirreldom.

There was a few quick movements in the ring. A squick and then I saw the blood along Big Cheeks side and the arc of blood on the cement where it had been flung off of Mr. Pooftail’s knife. Big Cheeks fell to his knees. His arms going limp, the knife dropping from his paw and his other arm hanging with all its weight on to Mr.Pooftail’s wrist. Poof held his blade aloft and looked out to the ring of spectators. He matched eyes with every one of them in turn. Each bore his gaze for a instance and then lowered there heads. Poof practically vibrated with adrenaline and success. Even as Big Cheeks blood matted its way down his up-stretched arm Poof held his first court and his first challenge to the group. When it was clear that none would protest his new rule he turned his attention back to Big Cheeks lying at his feet, his limp arm still hanging from Poofs wrist. “Good bye old man, see you in hell.”

Big Cheeks’ eyes had started to glaze over but a smile crossed over his face “You’ll never keep control you.”

“Let me guess. you think that since I don’t know where you buried all the loot over the spring that I won’t have the power base to keep control. Well I know. I struck a deal with the pigeon syndicate. They watch you and mark all your hiding places and we take out the cat down the street that capped Big Eddy. I know everything from the peanuts that Mrs. Wilcher gives out to the smack that we’ve been steeling form the dealer on Steel St. So let the thought that I’ll be enjoying all the fruits of your years of work, and maybe that cute little daughter of yours as well, keep you extra warm as you roast in hell.”

Big Cheeks let out a bloody laugh that grew in to a violent cough. “You’ll never keep control you are too much like me, you’re looking at yourse…” and Big Cheeks was gone.

Poof stuck his blade in Big Cheeks corpse and undid the twist tie that held them together. Saying nothing he walked over to the bird bath and began to clean the blood from his fur. Two squirrels from the circle started to drag Big Cheeks body off to bury it and Poof stopped them. “Leave it for the cats” was all he said and then scampered off.

The neighborhood stayed about the same. The old ladies paid their protection peanuts and kept their cats inside. Especially after Mrs. Sharlen died one night after eating a peanut that had been laced with cyanide. We all new who did it. Poof had killed two birds with one stone. He had cemented his hold on the neighborhood by making a example of the old lady. With her gone the city had taken her cat to the pounded and gassed it, fulfilling his part of the deal with the pigeons. I watched him from my window. Every day, watching his rounds and where he buried what. I watched and I waited. He held this neighborhood in a grip of terror. And nothing was going to stop him. Every day I watched, but every night I worked. As soon as my squirrel suit is done, I’ll make my play. Then I’ll run this street, then the neighborhood, and then the city.

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