Samantha Maris

sam@sammaris.com

About 2,000 words

Jasper Juniper Titmouse

by Samantha Maris

Chapter 1

Rainy days were the universe’s personal attack on Jasper Juniper Titmouse. Jasper’s family, “The Titmouses,” were tiny. So small that rainy days were dangerous, the weather forcing them captive in their home for fear of being pummeled into the ground like a stake at some of the human campsites prevalent around their home in the Northern California forest near the Great Basin.

So, JJ, as his friends and family called him, perched on the edge of the entrance to their hole-in-a-tree home and pondered all the gossip he was missing today. Jasper Juniper Titmouse believed he was born to watch over the forest creatures and guide them or warn them of fun to be had or danger to be avoided. Today, his friends would be on their own, and that gave JJ a giant case of FOMO.

Two days passed before the sun returned to the Great Basin and the surrounding forest land. JJ excitedly flew from his family's nest, swooping low to the pine-needled forest floor to check on his friends and neighbors. First, because she was closest to his abode, JJ checked on Sorya, a Townsend ground squirrel who kept her acorn stockpile in a hollow in JJ’s tree.

The hole was in the trunk at the base of a branch that made a good place for Sorya to lay out her nuts to dry so they wouldn’t become molded and ruin her whole pantry of acorns and pine nuts.

JJ watched Sorya for a short time, but she was busy and had no time to even look at him. He really wanted to find his best friend. Bosco, the coyote, normally came around to see JJ even in the rain, so JJ was curious why he hadn’t seen his friend since before the monsoon came through. The skies were blue with no clouds, and the forest creatures and Great Basin dwellers all enjoyed the confluence of the two ecosystems.

JJ was not comfortable flying too far into the Great Basin. With no trees to use for cover, hawks would notice him and could easily overpower him with speed and strength. His search for Bosco continued throughout the day as the sun slowly heated the basin's surface and the tops of the trees. JJ landed and sat in a conifer, the last one in a copse that skirted the distinctive contrast of the two zones. He heard the yip of a coyote and knew immediately it was Bosco’s voice.

Chapter 2

Bosco knew his yips and howls had not been heard; he had not heard even an owl in the night. He shook his head at his stupidity. Obviously, all the other ground animals knew about avoiding this area. That the owls didn’t fly over hunting for ground rodents was proof he was completely and tragically alone.

He had been in this mud pit for two days. His legs cramped from the intensity of his struggle, but the mud was unforgiving, and if he moved too much, it would suck him deeper.

He had laughed at first, thinking how stupid it was not to have seen the mud pit when he chased the kangaroo mouse toward its den. He had not really wanted to catch the mouse; there wasn’t enough meat for a meal, but the way they hopped like a kangaroo provided him with great joy, and he laughed as he chased them so they would know he wasn’t really a threat. When JJ was around, he would call out a shrill notice guiding him to the little rodents.

It surprised Bosco that JJ had not come looking for him. He knew JJ was too small to fly in the rain, but today had been sunny, and no sign of his pal. His pack wouldn’t come looking for him until he had been absent for at least a week, which would be too late, Bosco knew. He was already weak with dehydration. Embarrassed that a strong coyote like him could not break free of the wet earth, in desperation, he threw his head back and howled a long song of ancient communication.

Ending his anthem with three yips, Bosco lay his head on top of the mud and tried to rest. The petrichor filled his muzzle with its pleasant scent, though it was difficult to enjoy the natural odors of clean dirt when his legs felt cased in cement. He realized he could no longer feel his tail, and that brought a deeper sense of his life sinking beyond his control. The mud was drying up, and that would only worsen his situation.

Chapter 3

When JJ heard the three yips, he could discern the despair coating the sounds like tree sap on branches. JJ flung himself out of the conifer and banked sharply to the left toward the sound’s origin. He flew as close to the tree line as he could, determined to find the coyote whose yips were crying for help.

JJ felt panicked; a thousand scenarios crossed his little bird brain. How could he, the smallest bird in the forest, help a mostly grown coyote? His heart thumped harder than normal in his chest, and his wings beat at a rapid pace before he tucked them against his side to increase his speed for a few moments. Flap, flap, flap, tuck. Flap, flap, flap, tuck, Flap, flap, glide, and search.

He searched the ground below, all the while keeping his attention on the horizon. If he didn’t find Bosco along this section of the forest, he would have to venture into the open air over the Great Basin to find his friend. The thought made his stomach flip a bit with anticipatory anxiety of what would wait for him in the open skies without the protective trees he relied on for safety.

Suddenly, a sound echoed through the basin. A sound that brought fear to any animal struggling to survive in the wilderness. A mewling, cat-like vocalization, stark against the static noise of the wilderness. Its meaning caused JJ’s heart to almost jump out of his throat. That mewling was not a cat. It was the announcement of impending death.

Chapter 4

Bosco was having trouble keeping his tongue in his mouth. He needed to pant to cool his body, but dehydration made his tongue dry, minimizing the effectiveness of panting and further frustrating him at the predicament he was in.

He didn’t have to look up to identify the buzzards as they gathered over the mud pit that held him captive. The distinctive mewl of the buzzards was well known to anyone who was born and raised here. He opened his eyes and saw the shadows passing on the dry taupe colored ground surrounding the mud pit. The ominous outline that would normally have caused his heart to thump faster.

He thought of the stories he had listened to the elder coyotes discuss around a carcass the pack was consuming. The coyotes who had seen many winters always agreed that when buzzards arrive, hope leaves. Maybe if he went to sleep, he wouldn’t notice when the buzzards landed.

Thunk, thunk, thunk. Bosco’s brain, slowed by dehydrated had trouble making sense out of the pain and noise in his head. Or on his head, actually. Thunk, thunk, rapid shrill whistles, then a tiny beak bit the tip of his ear. A very sensitive tip. His throat was too dry to yelp, but the painful nip to his ear made him groan. He felt a small body bounce up and down, as if in a happy dance.

A flash of grey flitted before his barely opened eyes. Through the fog of his dry eyes, he recognized his friend Jasper Juniper Titmouse. Relief was fleeting as the buzzards mewled overhead again. When JJ hopped over and pressed up against his neck, he saw the shadows again and knew what JJ was hiding until he caught his breath. His friend’s eyes met his one visible eye and held his gaze. Then JJ nodded, and Bosco recognized the determination in his small buddy’s face. JJ was going for help.

Chapter 5

JJ stayed low to the desert floor as he darted for the forest one hundred yards from Bosco’s place of confinement. Flap, flap, flap, tuck. He saw the carrion bird shadows still circling Bosco, and he hoped he could bring help in time. He was about one minute of flight from the trees when he saw the huge shadow growing larger as it got closer to the ground. This shadow was directly behind him and kept to his count to maximize his speed.

Flap, flap, flap, tuck. Flap, flap, flap, tuck. As the front of the shadow neared his tail feathers, JJ banked to the left, darted behind a rock formation, and shot straight up onto a branch that hung over the rocks. SAFE! He landed on the branch and almost fell off the thin bough. As his adrenaline faded, He felt pain in his right leg. He looked to see his right poking out at an odd angle. He did not have time for this. His chest puffed in and out as he tried to slow his breathing. Escaping the carrion demon birds wasn’t enough. He had to find Bosco’s pack.

As he searched the meadow for coyotes, he realized they might be down for afternoon naps and headed to the rock cropping near a river where he had visited them before. Bosco had once told him that the rocks were warm to lie on and that the river provided fresh water and an occasional trout to eat.

The alpha was sunning on a rock above the other coyotes. JJ knew that hierarchy was extremely important to wolves, and he assumed the same was true for coyotes. He flew above the sleeping canine and tried to decide how to convey his message. Pecking on Bosco’s head had worked, so JJ landed on the large coyote’s head and pecked him three times. The coyote opened one eye and then snapped at the little titmouse. JJ was quick enough; he was in no danger, but that was not getting the response he needed.

JJ decided a game of irritate-the-coyote would be the only way, but he also needed the whole pack, and his plan must accomplish that. JJ began flying from one coyote head to another. Back and forth, across and up and down, tapping and nipping every pack member until they were all growling and making boofing noises that showed they were clearly not pleased.

Concentrating on the alpha, JJ got him riled up enough to chase him only when the other coyotes teased the alpha about his lack of speed in trying to catch JJ. It took time, but JJ herded the pack of coyotes toward Bosco’s earthen prison by diving, nipping, and basically pissing off the head coyote.

Suddenly, the pack came to a halt as a sad, meager howl, followed by three yips, caused the pack to all cock their heads and listen. Then, as one synchronized group, JJ forgotten, they careened over the last rocks and into the Great Basin, where Bosco waited.

Chapter 6

Epilogue, two months later.

Bosco lay down at the river’s edge to drink. His front leg had almost healed from the break caused by the mud that had seized, but he was alive. After a long, cool drink, which he deeply appreciated every single time he limped to the river, he moved over to a sunny spot and lay down.

Even with his eyes closed, he could recognize JJ’s wing flap. It was heavier on one side than it had been before his heroic rescue of Bosco. One of those buzzards had nipped JJ’s leg and broken it. When it appeared, the leg would not heal, JJ begged Bosco to bite it off. Reluctantly, fearful of hurting his tiny hero, JJ carefully, gradually, by degrees, had used his molars to sever JJ’s leg just below the point of the break.

And then he swallowed it.

It mortified him that he had eaten his friend’s leg, and when JJ realized what had happened, he flitted about in what Bosco thought was an angry rant. He quickly lay on the ground and rolled onto his back, showing his submission and sorrow for a bad deed.

Soon, it became apparent that JJ considered this a fortuitous turn of events because they were now like “blood brothers”.

Today, Bosco reveled in his friend's presence as JJ prattled on about the activities of forest creatures at the edge of the Great Basin. He listened to stories about the fox twins, the ground squirrels, and JJ’s own family drama. Bosco squinted his eyes and smiled at his friend.

JJ began to fade from his vision, a cloud forming where his friend should be. He felt the tiny titmouse land on his chest, but he couldn’t hear him any longer.

JJ watched the light wane in his friend’s eyes. Through his one foot on Bosco’s chest, he felt the slight thump of a blood clot entering Bosco’s heart. Though he could not have known the clot was caused by the broken leg, his heart could feel the stoppage of Bosco’s blood through his veins. JJ nestled into Bosco’s fur. He would stay for a while and rest with his friend. Finish telling Bosco about Theolonia Turtle, her eggs, and the fox kit she caught eating them.