The Tragic Death of Ben the Squrriel

The Tragic Death of Ben the Squirrel

December 25th 1845-Appleburg Ferdern

Snow covered the cobbled and electrified streets of Appleburg. Wreathes hung outside the doors, carolers danced down the street, and children ran around squealing, laughing, and throwing snowballs at each other. The poor gathered around the Barismas Day Tree in the center of town and collected their gifts which had been raised by the newly opened Bauer’s church and enjoyed the dinner prepared by Pastor Philip Bauer and his congregation. The governor, Robert Phillips, and newly elected Representative Leonidas Cleburne were at the tree handing out presents, while Jessica Phillips and her children helped serve the food. The stone houses were just as merry as people exchanged gifts and drank hot chocolate. The Banks house was in particularly high spirits as the boys opened their presents and shared them with the small family they had taken in for the winter. The small family lived in their basement and used to pay rent, until a few months ago, when the father became sick and could not work. Now, the father spent most of his time sleeping, while the wife and their only child struggled to find work. The boy named Terry was good friends with Eric, even though he was eleven and Eric was only six, and that was the only reason Mira had even taken the family in. It was so rare to see Eric talk to his brothers, let alone someone outside the family, that Mira felt it would crush her silent son’s only chance to socialize if she refused. Of course, she had not told Henry and he had not found out until two weeks ago, when he had finally returned from the Black Forest. Thankfully he had a calm reaction and his only comment was, “When did we turn into an orphanage?” The ending of the war and Henry’s return from the front was another reason the Banks boys were so excited. They had never spent a Barismas with their father before and all four had been competing for his attention.

The small living room was filled with tinsel and decorations. There were stockings, also called mermaid tails, hanging over the fireplace-Mercury’s had a wrapped up fish head in it, because Mira was a little more than peeved with him-and various presents laid all over the floor. In the center of the room was the special Barismas Day Tree. It was a Preston Tree, a tree that could only be found in the ocean. On the 2nd of January, a number of brave swimmers dove into the ocean a good distance from the shore and cut these trees and brought them up to the surface where they would be hung upside down and allowed to dry for eleven months. They immediately went on sell the 1st of December. The reddish purple trees branches pointed towards the ceiling and it was very fragile and very flammable-as Mercury found out last year. They hung delicate paper, seaweed, and coral ornaments from its branches and the tradition was to burn it that night, once the Barismas celebrations were over. The story went that the Preston tree was the tree Amal’s disciples used to build the cross and God could not stand the sight of it so he banished it to the ocean floor. Personally, Mira thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Henry and the boys were in the living room, while Mira busied herself in the kitchen. She probably would have laughed at how shocked Henry had been at all the attention he was receiving, if she had not wanted to ruin the moment. Instead, she quietly snickered as Henry sat on the couch and tried to socialize with his boys and their friend. The scene was almost sweet, except Mira saw the strain and horror of the Black Forest in Henry’s eyes. He was distant and cold and she knew it was taking all of his will power to sit there and smile at his sons as they childishly opened and shared their presents with each other and tried to involve him. Their youngest son, James, was sitting on his lap and was trying to get Henry to appreciate the teddy bear he had given Mercury (Thristopher because of a misprint on the tag). James was no older than five years old and was overcoming another bout of the flu. He had wild, bright red hair, and his father’s bright brown eyes, although his were warmer. He was already quite tall for his age and was very thin. While James cuddled with their father, Hermes, their oldest son, was trying to impress Henry with the fact that that Eric had given him a rather thick biography on the first Ferdarian president. Hermes was another tall one. In fact, if he kept growing at the rate he was, he would tower over his father by his thirteenth birthday-which was only three years away. If he had not been so tall, he would have been a spitting image of his father. He had his bright brown eyes that were already starting to harden and his brown hair was just as wild as Henry’s had been. However, he had his mother’s delicate facial features and Mira was surprising he wasn’t bringing home girls yet. As Hermes and James surrounded Henry, Mercury, Eric, and Terry fiddled with the rifle Mira and Henry had bought them.
“Come on, boys, leave your father alone,” said Mira, handing him a cup of tea, “There is only so much socializing he can take.”
“No, it is all right,” he said with a strained smile.
He frowned as James coughed.
Mira jumped on him immediately and said, “I think you’ve had too much excitement for one day. Let’s go upstairs and get you to bed.”
“Aw, Mom, let me stay. Please,” wheezed James.
“Yes, Mira, let him stay,” said Henry, who disapproved of Mira’s mothering, “He will be fine.”
James smiled appreciatively as Mira gave him a disapproving glance.
“Let us load it and test it out!” Mercury, their red headed son, exclaimed, vibrating.
Mira whirled around and said, “Not in here!”
The three boys cowered and Mercury said, “Of course not. We’re not stupid.”
Mira gave him a knowing glare. Mercury rolled his bright blue eyes as an exasperated look crossed his round, delicate face. Mercury was incredibly short for an eight year old boy, although that did not prevent him from attracting older women. Mira had warned Henry that he was going to be murdered by an angry husband someday.
“Don’t worry, Mom, we will look after him,” said Eric.
Eric was also rather short for his age, although it did not help that he walked around with a hunch and did his best to be as invisible as possible. While Hermes looked similar to Henry, Eric was, to put it simply, Henry’s younger clone, except he had soft, bright blue eyes that always melted Mira’s heart and often saved Eric from being punished whenever Mercury dragged him into one of his crazy adventures.
“Look after me?!” said Mercury, “I do not need to be looked after.”
“Mercury, yesterday you went outside with your shirt inside out and on backwards, your shoes on the wrong feet, and you still had your pajama pants on,” said Hermes.
“At least he had pants on that time,” said Terry, a small, rat faced boy with thin black hair and dark green eyes.
He was wearing his Hermes’ button down shirt, that was slightly too long for him, and Eric’s pants, that were too short for him, but he was not complaining.
“He has left the house without his pants?” said Henry aghast.
“No!” said Mercury as his three brothers, his mother, and his friend stared at him skeptically, “Well…maybe.”
Henry stared at his son incredulously.
“How do you forget your pants?!”
“Do not look at me. He is your son,” said Mira, folding her arms over her chest.
“He was excited, because the people who were decorating the Barismas Day Tree in the center of town were offering free hot chocolate,” explained James.
“You ran outside without your pants for hot chocolate,” said Henry, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I simply want to know why he did not have pants on in the first place,” said Mira.
Mercury was a deep red now and he was throwing James a threatening glare, causing the young boy to cower into his father.
“I think it is better if we do not know, mother,” said Hermes.
“That has always been my philosophy when it comes to your brother,” muttered Mira.
“Yeah, well…can we go shoot?”
“On your own? You will kill someone,” said Mira.
“I will take them shooting,” said Henry, lifting James off his lap and putting him on the couch.
“Can I come?”
“James, you have not gotten over your flu yet. I really would prefer if you stayed inside.”
“Aw, Mom.”
“I will stay inside with you,” Hermes sighed, “And we will move the couch over to the window so you can watch.”
“Oh, all right,” whined James, pouting.
“Great!” said Mercury, jumping up.
Henry slowly rose and handed his cup of tea to Mira.
“You will have to save this for me.”
“No, finish your tea first and then join them outside. Boys, you can set everything up, but I do not want you to fire that thing until your father comes out. Understand?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Yes, Mrs. Banks.”
The three boys rose as Eric picked up the rifle and Terry carried the ammunition. They were climbing over the wrapping paper and toys towards the backyard when James called, “Wait, Mercury! Take Thristopher with you!”
Mercury paused as he thought it over.
“You are not bringing the bear,” Eric decided for him.
“You don’t like the bear?” smirked Terry.
“No, he will lose it out there and James will never forgive him.”
“I will not lose it,” said Mercury, putting his hands on his hips.
“Mercury, your brother is right,” said Mira, “It would be best to leave it here.”
“Mira, he is going to be in the backyard. Where is he going to lose it?” asked Henry ,raising an eyebrow.
“You do not know your son,” said Mira.
“Bring him upstairs, Merc,” Hermes said, giving the bear to his younger brother.
“Fine!” snapped Mercury, stomping upstairs.
Eric and Terry walked outside, while Mira and Henry walked into the kitchen, and Hermes helped James get comfortable on the sofa.
“How are you holding up, soldier?” smirked Mira, checking on the muffins she was making for breakfast.
“They certainly have a lot of energy,” he said, taking a sip from his tea, “Are they always like this?”
“Oh, this is good for them. Mercury is behaving himself today.”
“Did he really run outside without any pants?”
“Just remember, he is your son.”
“I am beginning to think he was adopted.”
“If only,” she sighed.
Henry smirked and took a deep sip from his cup of tea. He loved his boys, but they were wearing him out. Fighting Felines did not require this much energy from him. Still, it was good to be with them and even better to properly celebrate Barismas with his family. He had never actually celebrated Barismas until he went to the Green Meadow Academy (GMA) and John Heth invited him to his house during the breaks. Needless to say, he had been awkward and uncomfortable, but it was nice to spend the holidays with friendly faces instead of alone in a cold and disheveled house.
“You all right?”
“Yes, just thinking.”
“Hm, what about?” she asked as she walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
He tightened and it seemed like he was resisting the urge to push her arms off of him. Instead, he gave her a small smile and carefully placed his cup on the counter.
“About how nice it is to finally spend Barismas with the boys.”
“They are very excited.”
“I can tell.”
“It is cute,” Mira smiled and rubbed her nose against his, causing him to tighten up.
“Maybe to you,” he said uncomfortably.
Mira frowned and loosened her arms around his waist.
“Everything all right?”
There was a sharp discharge that almost sounded like gunfire and Henry’s eyes hardened and he stiffened. He almost ran outside before Mira stopped him.
“It must have been a firework or something. You know sometimes people shoot them around this time of year.”
“Right,” he said, although he was still tense.
Mira kept her arms around his waist and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips in an attempt to calm him down.
“Yes, I am sorry. It is just…what if the boys see?” he said, somewhat weakly as he broke her kiss.
She frowned, “I do not think they will notice and even if they do, so what?”
“I just…I do not think it is proper,” he said, fixing his button down shirt.
Mira pulled away, folded her arms over her chest, and said, “Not proper for a husband and wife to hug and kiss?”
“I think I am going to go outside and help the boys.”
Mira frowned and it was obvious she wanted to continue the discussion, but they both paused as Mercury ran outside and Terry and Eric stumbled in. Eric was holding his rifle close to his chest and they both looked rather stunned.
“Hey, you all right?” asked Mira.
“Yeah, fine….nothing wrong,” said Eric.
“Yeah, nothing happened. Nothing at all,” stammered Terry.
Henry raised an eyebrow as they tumbled into the living room. He looked at Mira who looked at Henry concerned.
“Mercury must have done something stupid,” sighed Mira.
“I don’t think he had time to do anything,” said Henry.
“You don’t know your son,” said Mira, rolling her blue eyes, “I’ll go see if those two are ok and you can go check on Mercury.”

Before Eric and Terry ran inside the house, they had been outside fiddling around with the rifle. The yard was small and had a single tree that was infested with squirrels.
“Are we really going to wait for your father?” asked Terry.
“Do you want to be whipped by Mom?” asked Eric.
“She wouldn’t.”
Eric looked at him skeptically. Terry sighed and ran a hand through his pitch black hair. Eric pulled back the bolt and took a bullet from Terry.
“I thought we were waiting.”
“I am just loading it,” said Eric innocently.
Terry grinned, “Well, as long as it is loaded we might as well practice aiming.”
“And if anything should happen….”
“We’ll blame Mercury,” said Terry.
“Sounds good to me,” said Eric, resting his rifle on his shoulder, “What should we aim at?”
“How about the squirrel’s nest?”
Eric looked at him skeptically.
“They’re living creatures.”
“So? We’re not going to shoot at them, besides if we shoot a few who’s going to care? We’re probably doing your mother a favor. Oh, and if we manage to shoot one I can dissect it. It’ll help me be a mortician.”
Eric shook his head and aimed the rifle at a squirrel and said, “I don’t know why you work there.”
“It pays.”
“But you can stay with us.”
“Not forever. Besides Dad’s medicine is expensive and I can make more as a mortician than Mom can as a seamstress.”
“Still, aren’t there any other jobs out there?”
“I don’t know. I like it. Oh, look at that one go!”
Eric, out of excitement, pulled the trigger and the discharge echoed throughout the street. Terry and Eric stood there, petrified as a small form fell to the ground. They stood there in the swirling snow as time seemed to stop.
“What do you think we hit?” Terry sputtered.
“I don’t even want to know.”
“What should we do?”
Eric looked at Terry and said, “This never happened.”
“Right.”
“Let’s going inside.”
“Ok.”
They ran inside into the living room, ran past Mercury, and nearly tackled Hermes as they explained to him what happened at 50 miles per hour.

After putting on his overcoat, Henry walked outside and folded his arms over his chest. He had not expected it to be this cold. All right, where was that boy? A little snow had fallen last night and gave the backyard a piece look. He sighed, his breath floating into the air, as he looked around the sparse yard and saw Mercury, with his head bowed, standing by that infernal rat infested tree. He stepped off the porch and walked towards Mercury.
“All right, Mercury, what did you do this time?”
His eyes widened in surprise when he realized that Mercury was crying!
“Are you all right?” he asked, bending down and grabbing Mercury by the shoulders and whirled him around to get a better look at him.
Mercury attempted to wipe his tears away and escape his father’s grasp.
“Mercury, what happened?!”
“Ben is dead,” sniffed Mercury.
Henry stared at him in confusion as he tried to figure out if he should recognize the name.
“Ben?”
“Yeah, he is dead. Someone shot him.”
Henry’s eyes widened in horror.
“He was murdered?!”
Mercury weakly nodded his head.
“How do you know? Where was he shot? Did you see who shot him?”
“He is right there,” wept Mercury, pointing at a bloody squirrel.
Henry stared at the squirrel, back at Mercury, and back at the squirrel again.
“You are crying because a squirrel died?”
“Not just any squirrel. It’s Ben!”
He stared at his son.
“You named the squirrel Ben?” he asked slowly.
“Yeah, he’s Ben, his sister up there is Lydia, and he has three brothers Charlie, Billy Bob, and Willis.”
Henry looked up at the chattering squirrels and down at his son again.
“I think we need to take you to a doctor.”
Mercury looked down as tears continued to roll down his cheeks.
“You are really upset about this.”
“He was my friend.”
“The squirrel was your friend?”
Mercury nodded his head. Henry looked at the bloody mess, hoping that something special would be revealed to him to help him understand why his son was crying over a dead mangy rodent.
“Really?”
“He was special and I do not understand why he had to die,” wailed Mercury, unable to hold back his sadness any longer.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around Henry’s neck and started crying into his shoulder. Henry’s eyes widened in shock and he tried to rise, but his son would not let go. He was like a small boulder tied to his neck.
“Um, Mercury, can you let go?”
His son cried harder as Henry rolled his eyes. He looked up briefly and mentally cursed at God. Really?! The first time home in four years and he had to deal with his potentially mentally disturbed son and his dead squirrel.
“There, there,” he said, awkwardly patting his back, “It will be ok.”
“No, it won’t. It’ll never be ok ever again.”
Henry rolled his eyes and said, “There will be other squirrels to take his place.”
“But they won’t be like Ben.”
“That is true,” said Henry, really wishing someone would come and save him, “But Ben…well….um.”
Mercury continued to cry as Henry tried to figure out what to do. He forcefully pulled Mercury’s arms from his neck and wiped his tears away.
“Mercury, do not cry. Men do not cry.”
Mercury nodded his head and tried to stop his tears.
“But…it hurts so much.”
“I know. It is supposed to.”
“Why?”
“Because it means that you care.”
Mercury wiped a threatening tear away and looked at his father confused.  Henry sighed and gently rubbed Mercury’s arms.
“Death is a natural part of life, Mercury. Nothing lasts forever and sometimes we feel that things die too soon and it hurts. We should not reject that pain. In fact, we need to hold onto it, because it means that the person who died mattered. However, we cannot let this pain get in the way. We have to compartmentalize that pain and move on. Now, Ben….the squirrel, lived a very long and happy life and I am sure he….appreciated all you did for him,” he forced himself to say, mentally cringing, “But he is gone now and there is nothing we can do about it. We just need to cherish his memory and appreciate the people-and squirrels-who are still…alive.”
Personally, Henry thought that was the biggest load of crap he had ever said in his entire life, but Mercury seemed to have taken his words as gospel. He nodded his head, wiped his tears away, and straightened up.
“Can we at least bury him?”
Henry stared at his son and said, “Let us go talk to your mother.”
Henry rose and took Mercury’s hand and led him inside. He opened the door and saw that Mira was in the kitchen.
“Mom!” cried Mercury, “Ben is dead and we need to arrange a funeral.”
“What?”
“We need to arrange a funeral for a dead squirrel,” said Henry deadpan, “Merry Barismas.”