Huckleberry’s Secret

Once upon a time in a quaint little town called Dorris lived a young boy named Selv. Selv was not like the other children, he was named after his great-great grandfather and lived a life of luxury. The town was mostly poverty level or below with small houses lining the pot holed filled streets, but Selv lived in a big white house. The house was so beautiful with its clean white exterior, sleek black front door, steps leading up to a big front porch and black columns which held up a small balcony from the second floor. The house had big open windows and willow trees lining the long gravel driveway, the view was phenomenal. Several horses roamed in open pasture also underneath the big open windows as his mother thought they were so beautiful to look at (his father did anything to please her), and a farmhand named Mr. Huckleberry. Selv’s unique name and generational wealth made him alienated at school. None of the kids would even give the “snobby rich kid” a chance to be their friend because their parents had warned them about this family and how they would turn their nose up if their precious Selv was friends with their average children. He was just a normal kid wanting to have friends and this made him very sad that they couldn’t see that he was just like them underneath it all!

Selv’s family gained their wealth because generations before owned the local gas station which since then had expanded into five neighboring bigger cities. His grandfather had loved the quietness of their town so much that they decided to stay in spite of their fortune. It was also nice being the richest family in the entire town. Selv’s entire family always stayed buttoned up and proper, but Selv found all of that fancy stuff very boring. He would rather spend his time in blue Jean overalls following around Mr. Huckleberry clinking the metal water buckets together, dragging heavy bags of horse feed and jumping in mud puddles barefoot. He truly admired this very tall, lanky man and while the entire family appreciated Mr. Huckleberry’s hard work, they just couldn’t quite understand Selv’s fascination. His mother was not fond of her son staying dirty, refusing to wear shoes or that he showed more interest in cleaning out stalls than he did learning to play the piano. She figured he would eventually outgrow it and follow in the footsteps of his grandfather and father. What she and no one else knew is that Mr. Huckleberry had a very special talent that would keep Selv interested in him, animals and farm work forever.

See, Mr. Huckleberry had been struck by a mad bolt of lightening as a young child and he was never the same. It had altered his brain in ways that no doctor, therapist or preacher could explain: he could speak to animals. No, not just speak like you and I do to animals, but he could actually converse with animals. They could understand him and he could understand them. It was a unique thing because when they spoke, everyone could hear them but they would only reply or converse with Mr. Huckleberry. He would go into the horse barn in the mornings greeting the prettiest mare with a “hello darlin” and she would straighten her neck up, look him dead in the eyes and say “Good morning Huck!” However, when Selv would trail behind him and say “good morning” the horse just stood there. None of the adults ever understood, not the way Selv did. So for this reason, Mr. Huckleberry only shared his magical secret with children. Not only did he share with them his secret, he had worked for years since he realized his unique powers to teach someone else how to have these same communications. He had been working with Selv since he was a toddler but didn’t have high hopes as no one else had yet been able to gain access to this same power. He was sure he was teaching them all wrong! It made Mr. Huckleberry feel very alone and misunderstood, all he wanted was for someone else to experience the joy like what he did. Selv had shown great interest, but as any kid did he worried more about drinking from the hose, climbing to the hay loft, and catching crickets.

One sunny spring evening Selv’s mother was calling him in to start getting ready for a special dinner with very important out of town guests, but he was no where to be found. She was dressed in a brown and white pant suit, with delicate short white heels. She sighed as she knew to find her young boy the heels would probably not stay very white. She began searching for the child, she checked every room in the 6 bedroom house hopeful she wouldn’t have to venture outside, then to the treehouse where all that was left was broken crayons and junk food wrappers that had been snuck, then to the garden shed - still no Selv. She tracked her way down through the dirt trails leading to the stalls and was growing angrier as the seconds passed. “He’s probably playing in mud and will need a bath before he can even look at my guests or my dinner table”! She mumbled to herself as she finally rounded the corner into the decent sized nicely kept horse barn. She had a moment of panic as she heard a voice she didn’t recognize “Don’t worry Selv, you’ll always have us as your friends” she let out a loud screech when she saw her son standing in front of their newest horse, Jinny. She couldn’t believe her eyes or ears as it was Jinny who was speaking to Selv! Mr. Huckleberry was standing behind them smiling from ear to ear as he said “I finally taught him the secret to my communication”. Selv’s mother fainted to the ground in what she could only assume was her sanity leaving her body.