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Chapter 12

Hansel and Edward

          When I was at the orphanage, I remember this one cub that

liked to push me buttons. His name was Franklin, a clean and stuck-up for being

a big raccoon. He kept saying his breed was so great and all, which turned me

screws whenever he said wolves were more terrible than even humans.

          Compared to the brat, Gavin was a tyrant!

          For more than a week, I've been hiding me tail from him and

his 'yote friends ever since me little practical joke on Easter. Gavin was

fast, but I managed to escape his claws through an alleyway, but not before

hearing him scream that, "this is war, Peter!"

          And boy had the 'yote made it one. Not two minutes on foot

of the school yard, were the kits and cubs cheering for me, grimacing, and the

aging Presser Lesser running down the school entrance with a yard stick

clutched in her paws.

          "You scoundrel! Fiend! Y-You get over here!" she lowly

growled. Behind her, I saw Gavin with his arms crossed, leaning against the

door and shortly grinning at me like a gentlewolf who struck an oil field.

"Devil cub! I told you to stay away from here, and you go around attacking my

students with your fleas!"

          "I don't have fleas, ya fennec!" I barked, suddenly

regretting it. "Uh oh." The fennec school teacher was charging at me like a

bull, yardstick in her paw like a sword.

          Tail curled and jaw dropped in horror, I managed to evade

her and ducked and twirled through the crowd of cubs until I ran outta the yard

and away from her shrills. I kept hearing her shout bollock things like

'ungrateful brat' and 'sniveling street rat.'

          I went to James after school, and he explained that the

'yote ranted at school how I supposedly threw rocks at him and his friends, and

tried stealing some pennies from their pockets. And now he was recruiting

school mates for a 'Peter Gray hunt', with the Presser Lesser's turning away

like a blind woman.

          All that was a fortnight ago. Ever since that incident too,

I've had to lay low like a thief, occasionally popping by the Lawtons for further

news on what's been happening. I couldn't go to Lance's place nearby, since his

mother would deck me like a stack of cards the moment she saw me tail wagging

at her door step.

          There were several moments that the 'Peter Gray hunters'

(or as I liked to call them: Gavin's Goons) caught me off me guard after their

school days. I was once walking down Pearl Street to buy an apple when I

stopped in me tracks, seeing Gavin and his Goons strolling down the street.

They eyed me amid the bootblacks and moving carts of vegetables, and I had to

run like a deer in the open field. I had to run for several minutes before they

lost me.

          And just last Tuesday, I was finding a place to do me

business when I turned a corner of an alley and saw Gavin searching for me.

Luckily, I hid that time, but strolled right into a Goon and earned meself a

bruise on the shoulder before escaping.

          Don't even get me started on the weekends. For being the

Big Apple, there were very few places

to hide as a street urchin in New York.

          Now, a whole fortnight later, I was sitting against a brick

wall along the bustling Mulberry Street while the sky went cloudy and the air

stale of liquor mule. It was getting busy lately, and it wouldn't be long until

Gavin's Goons came out to play.

          Where to hide? I

thought to meself. I couldn't go to Joseph's, since he said he'd double me tab

if I brought fights to his establishment again, and Lord knew how much I owed

him.

          I walked down the street and up at the sky, a low breeze

flowing through my ears like a river and the sun barely peeking out like a

newborn cub's eyes. Gavin was really determined to make me life a living 'ell. I'd

seen the 'yote angry before in school yards, but Gavin was as determined as the

former Confederacy from forty years ago. And they nearly won.

          I stopped in me tracks and sniffed the air. Aside from

nearby smock stacks down the neighborhood and terrible musks in the street,

Mulberry felt...wrong somehow.

          "..."

          "..quiet, Carl."

          I widened me eyes and ran down the street, just as pebbles

started shooting down behind me. A nearby gentlewolf and lady gasped as I ran

past them, and the gentlewolf cursed at the furson standing on the nearby fire

escape. Must've accidentally hit him.

          "You little brat! Watch where you're shooting!"

          I didn't hear the rest, and didn't care as I dodged more

pebbles, and cringed as me ears caught the sound of ruffling footsteps and

shouts to "get the Gray! Get the Gray!"

          I turned quickly and glanced to see Gavin in front of

several Goons, slingshots in their paws and running through the crowds on the

street. I craned me neck back in front and spotted a wooden ladder at the foot

of an alleyway. And it went up a story of the building, just a mere two dozen

feet high. Scrambling up, I barely felt Gavin's claws grab me tail, and heard

him climbing up the ladder, that I pushed it down.

          "Ow! Peter!" Gavin yelped while pushing it aside.

          I mustered up enough breath for me to blow a raspberry at

his sorry tail flat on the alleyway, and giggled at his Goons aimlessly looking

at me like ants.

          Me tail uncurled and I smiled while ignoring the bystanders

looking at me curiously from below. "Well, well, Gavie," I inhaled, then

exhaled amused. "I must say...ya know how to..." Good Lord, how far were we running? "...how to track me

down." I gulped, and shook me tail. 

          Gavin smirked at me in the alley and swished his tail

confidently. "Ya make it hard, Peter," he spoke oddly calm. What was he up to?

"Ya know that ya can't stay up there forever! I can wait!"

          I began pacing along the stone roof. "Awww, you'd do that for little old me?" I chuckled,

still eyeing the 'yote. "Still, ya hafta admit you've always looked up to me,

Gavin." I grinned and cupped me muzzle." Even now, you're looking up to me!" A

couple of Gavin's Goons chuckled at me joke, and the 'yote gave him a sharp

look. "Just face it, Gavie, yer a wolf-wannabe that can't let things go!"

          "Ditto to ya!" Gavin shot back, showing his canines. "But

at least I ain't a flea-ridden mongrel that pretends to be high and mighty, but

is nothing 'cept an orphan whose parents left him on the street!" He laughed,

and his Goons followed like a chorus.

          I balled me fists and bristled me fur, wanting nothing more

than to punch that smug 'yote in the muzzle. But before me anger could unleash

itself, I froze and the fur on me back stood up.

          Someone was behind me; I could smell the coyote musk

anywhere.

          "Get him Ben!" Gavin shouted below.

          I dropped meself and felt a pang as me muzzle bumped onto

the roof. I glanced up, and the world slowed down as I saw Ben begin to fall

down the edge. Instinctively, I grabbed his right leg and missed his screaming

and writhing as he dangled on the ledge.

          "Help me!" the 'yote writhed. "Help me! Help me!"

I

carefully bent down and lowered him on the ground, then jumped back as Gavin

tried grabbing at me throat. Luckily, I heard Ben land himself on a pile of

garbage under him, and I ran for it as pebbled began flying themselves at me

like alleyway vixens.

          After an hour or two of running, hiding, and taunting the

'yote and his 'friends' all around the city, I found meself slumped up against

a tenement house's brick wall, clothes soaked in sweat, and blood pumping like

a factory machine while the city went to sleep. According to me pocket watch,

the time was 7:34 pm, and it had to be time for Gavin and his Goons to head

home for New York's bloody curfew.

          As if today's misadventure weren't enough, God decided to

be a saint and make it rain. The clouds were gathering, and an echo of thunder

went across the sky. I looked up as it began to sprinkle in misty drops, and

started to note what time it was when rain came down in buckets. I picked

meself up from the dirty sludge on the street and jogged toward the place. Not

that many people were out, other than couples with umbrellas, carriages

streaking through walls of water, and small cubs at the doorways begging their mothers

to let them go out and play in the rain.

          I was alongside a street beside the Hudson, not far from

Five Points but too far from the Lawtons or Turners for me to walk through the

rain. Even the horses in nearby carriages and wagons got spooked by lightning

bolts shooting across the sky.

          "Ya better get home, kid!" a raccoon on horseback shouted

to me, even over the wind. "Wind is picking up!" He heeled his horse and was

courteous to have his hooves splash through a puddle and wash me legs.

          The raccoon was right though.

          But as I went to a nearby alleyway, I bumped into something

and fell on the sidewalk, hitting me ankles and side first. "Ow!" I muffled,

sitting up as more water poured onto me. "Watch it, ya dumb-"

          I inhaled a familiar musk, and looked up to see a mouse

looming over me, wearing a look of surprise across his muzzle. "Peter?!" he

bent over and quickly picked me up. "What are you doing here? Don't you know

you can get a cold out here?" Before I had the slightest chance to answer,

Hansel grabbed me paw and we scurried away from the street.

          We went round a corner when I spotted a familiar tenement

across the road. It was a brown building a couple of stories high, almost as

high as the one Ben nearly fell offa. Except instead of being a stone block, it

had more Victorian features to it, yet still held that wonderful, dull color of

rainy New York City. And the door smelled like deep mahogany from a rich gent's

home (don't ask how I know).

          Flicking me tail, Hansel let go of me paw and pounded at

the door two times, the third leading to a crack appearing. "Name?" came a

voice, and it took me a moment to realize the voice was German. "Your name

please?"

          "Hansel Beltz, room is on the third floor, please let us in

before we freeze to death!" Hansel gasped, keeping a paw up from droplets of

rain.

          The door widened, and the older mouse in front of me nodded

to a bony mixed breed of dog hunched over, looking at me with a glass eye and

missing ear. From what I guessed, he was the grouchy landlord the mouse often

talked about, and it surprised me that he was older than I pictured.

          "Try not to stay out late in a storm like dis Hansel. And

don't bring too much water in with ya," the old dog pointed a finger at me,

"and who is dis?"

          "Peter is a friend, Mr. Habicht," Hansel stated. From how

there weren't that many candles nearby, I couldn't tell what expression he had,

and it made me tail curl slightly when 'Habicht' looked at me again with his

candle in paw.

          "A 'friend' you say?" he perked his ears, sounding

skeptical. "Hmmm, just like that Edward fellow of yours up there, right?" I

noticed Hansel shaking his muzzle, and the mixed breed smirked at us, slowly

turning down an adjacent hallway toward a door. The last thing he called out

was, "Good night."

          "Good night, Mr. Habicht," the mouse said. As soon as the

mixed breed closed it, Hansel looked down at me. "Follow me, Peter."  

          Hansel silently led me up some dark stairs, even with the

smells of other musks in other apartments making me nose numb. We passed by a

vixen opening a door to her apartment, and she gave me a smile, which I paused

for a moment before Hansel pulled me again. We stopped at the third level for

Hansel to stop at a door, this time smelling like stale timber instead of

mahogany. The smell made me tail twitch slightly.

The

mouse softly knocked and whispered, "Listig?

Listig?" As I shook some water offa me, the door opened slightly, and a red

fox appeared in the frame, gazing at me and Hansel with a grin as wide as a

crescent moon.

          The fox and mouse happily hugged, and I followed inside their

small tenement apartment. The tenement was small, with only two rooms connected

and barely enough room for the three of us to pass each other. The air held

that distinct smell of mouse and fox musk, along with the welcoming scent that

was cooking on the small stove in the far corner.

          I sat down on a chair beside the other room's open

entrance, and while Edward spoke to Hansel in deep German about something, either

of the thunder outside or me, I stood up and turned into the other room with a

flicking tail.

          The room was smaller, with only one bed in the far corner

and small shelves facing the door frame. I curiously knelt down on the wooden

boards under me and saw a few things, like clothes, rags, and even a few books.

I gently picked up one and tried to pronounce the author.

          "'Os...Oscar...Wilde...'"

          I opened a page and tried reading the first page, but I

froze in place after hearing moment behind me, "Curious are you, lil' scamp?"

Hansel chuckled. I placed the book back and looked back at him, perking me ears.

"I thought you didn't read?"

          I folded them, and slightly frowned. "I know how to read,

Hansel," I sighed to him. "I just haven't read in a while, that's all..." We

walked into the main room while I glanced at Edward wagging his tail whilst

cooking some gruel. "I also wanted to know how ya'll been doing since..." I

shrugged. "...that day."

          Edward stiffened at the stove, and Hansel flicked his coil

tail nervously. "That day?" he asked, sounding confused. "Oh yeah, it has been

about five years now, hasn't it, Peter?" He smiled and sat down. "Five years

today, the three of us lived here, right Listig?"

          Edward craned his neck at us and nodded shyly, turning back

to the food in his pot. The fox spoke something in German to Hansel, sounding

almost frantic and terrified at the same time.

          "Now, now, Edward," Hansel held his paws up. "If that were

true, then we'd be homeless, wouldn't we?" Edward spoke again, and remained

quiet, but turned to me with a wag of his reddish tail.

          I kicked back in the wooden chair and smiled at the smell

in the gruel. It reminded me of me days at the orphanage. I thought back five

years ago, the day when me life changed for better.

          To be honest, I never grew up in New York City, but in an

orphanage across the Hudson in the neighboring state of New Jersey (or what

many New Yorkers call 'Noo Joisey'). I was only eight then, and a black sheep

of the place, being a wolf among hybrids and other species.

          One day, Sister Susan told all the boys and girls that we

were going on a train ride across the country. We were surprised and excited,

but we soon realized were being placed on orphans trains. They were trains that

held orphans and homeless youth, and we'd be brought to the Midwest and be

adopted. I wanted to be happy and excited, but I was terrified.

          Me and the orphans were placed in a big wagon, and rode to

the local train station, which was also neighboring to the Hudson River, just a

mere trip away from a place known as the Sandy Hook Bay. Before we were gonna

be placed on the next train, Sister Susan gave us a play break.

While

the other cubs and kits were playing together, I sat all alone by meself,

looking at the railways and back to the ferry docks. They were loading up

fursons heading toward the city deeper in the river, and it finally hit me that

I wasn't gonna see the East Coast again. I knew no parent would want an older

wolf to adopt; they'd be looking for babies and younger kits instead like they

always did at the orphanage. I didn't even get to say good-bye to Hansel and

Edward.

But

then, right outta the blue, God decided to be me best friend again as soon as I

spotted them heading toward the ferry. They were in a hurry, and carried a few

bags under their arms. I...I didn't know what came over me. I was running to

them, got on the boat, found them shocked to see me, and a gentle nudge as the

boat left.

After

that, I stumbled offa the ferry and felt the cobblestone of the city under me

footpaws, as did a disgruntled Hansel beside Edward. While we were on the

ferry, Hansel scolded me at first for running off, but the mouse didn't report

me to a policeman after I told him about the trains. At Edward's insistence,

they wanted me to live with them, but I didn't want to be a burden then, and

not now. So instead, they agreed to keep me secret safe and let me roam free on

two promises. One, I didn't steal (only if desperate), and I keep their own

secrets safe.

I

sighed and looked to the mouse, who was now serving a bowl of the gruel to

Edward. When Edward quietly yipped that the gruel got on his thumb, Hansel

chuckled and petted the fox's headfur lightly.

"Our

offer is still open, Peter," Hansel simply said.

I

perked me ears and turned to him. "Thanks, but I still think that it'd be best

for both of ya," I said, tasting the gruel again. "Besides, I can take care of

meself." I took another sip, and admired the aftertaste. It reminded me of

home.

As

the thundering and rain went on outside like a war battle, the three of us

talked and did idle chit-chat like the good days. Hansel told me about how he

and his foxy friend were doing decently as street sweepers, even with the

little pay compared to other jobs. Edward had fully healed from his factory

accident five years ago, and could walk properly again, and made some few

friends in their tenement building.

We

soon got to me life, and I told the two about Gavin, his Goon, and the

fortnight I spent being a bull's eye. "All that for throwing bird seeds at

'em?" Hansel smirked. "Ya really know how to make friends, don't ya, lil'

scamp?"

I

shook me muzzle and flicked me tail. "I ain't a little scamp anymore," I

pressed. "How long until ya gonna stop calling me that?"

Hansel

grinned and whispered, "When we can fly to the moon, lil' scamp."

A

crack of thunder above made me jump from the seat, along with Edward. Hansel

whispered comfort to him, and it made me tail wag at how very close they were.

"Me

and dear Edward are gonna go to bed, lil' scamp, so you can take this room to

sleep for the night if you want?" he said. Edward got up and smiled his silent

smile before heading to the bedroom.

"Good

night, Edward," I said. I hoped to have him speak in English, but he just

nodded like a mime. "You too." I sighed silently, but flinched when I felt the

fox lean forward and surprise me by kissing between me twitching ears. When

Hansel wiped a wet napkin on me cheek, I flinched. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Who are ya,

me mother?"

Hansel

chuckled and tossed his bowl in the sink. "Sorry lil' scamp," he said grinning.

"You had some of that food on your cheek there."

I sat

down and inhaled the last of the gruel, happy to know the rumbling in me

stomach stopped. "When you're done with the gruel, dear, please put it in the

sink," Hansel closed the door behind him and the fox, "the place is dirty

enough as it is."

I

folded me ears and got up to do that before relaxing on the chair. "Says the

guys who sweep other people's messes on the street?" I grumbled softly.

"I

heard that." Hansel said through the door. Chuckling, I ignored the tapping

above me ears and fell asleep, thinking of what to do with Gavin. Then it hit

me like a train in the plains. I knew just what to do to the Napoleon 'yote,

and it made a devilish grin form on me muzzle.