Meerkat Minor, Ch. 7

This sleep that Malcolm slipped into was no ordinary sleep, Dear Friends. And that is why we had to take a brief reprieve from our story so that we, the Storytellers, could recuperate from the sleep ourselves. Now that we've regained our strength, we'll resume the tale. But first as a word of caution, beware of any smells that may come wafting from your kitchen, and do not be too surprised with where this story may take us - particularly in the way of the characters of Major Heggs and Mr. Foximus. Remember firstly, that you have been forewarned and secondly, that not everyone is as good at hiding their true intent as these two animals. You needn't fear, but you should also learn to be cautious when dealing with mammals.
That is our caveat, Reader, and now back to Malcolm.

When Malcolm awakened, the first thing he saw was the branches of a dozen Oak trees, full of leaves, silhouetted against a velvet black sky that was speckled with stars. As he laid on the ground, he could smell the sweet grass that grew 3 feet taller than where the tip of his nose reached when his face was pointed up towards the sky. It was still warm out, but not as humid as it had been earlier in the day. Was it even still the same day as when he met Major Heggs and Mr. Foximus or had he slept for far longer than even he knew?

Malcolm licked his lips, suddenly realizing that he was incredibly thirsty. He sat up and slurped a couple of grass blades before standing all the way up in an attempt to see over the grass and find out where he was. 

Nothing but trees and grass in front of him.

Nothing to the right.

Nothing behind him.

Nothing to the le- wait. There was an opening in the trees to his left that looked like it might lead out of the circle of trees. It was dark out, but this opening was a slightly lighter shade of blue and seemed to glow with a misty haze. 

Malcolm was confused. After all, wouldn't you be too if you woke up in the middle of the forest after being quite cozy in your little hovel under the ground?

Here, is where Malcolm makes a choice. Had he made a different choice, his story could have gone in quite the opposite direction, both literally and figuratively. But he made the decision to enter the clearing between the trees, so we, of course, will follow him through.

Malcolm partly waded through, partly hopped over, the sea of grass towards the gap in the trees. 

Meerkat Minor, Ch. 6

Malcolm blinked twice and quickly gave Mr. Foximus the once over. He noticed the fox was a very tall slender mammal. His tail was as thick and poofy as a grand piano on a muggy summer day in New Orleans and his eyes were a soft brownish yellow. A burlap looking cream colored shirt covered in spots of paint draped over his shoulders and harem style trousers with a rather stuffed deep brown leather belt wrapped around his waist. There were feathers, paint brushes, beads, and other odd things spilling out of his belt, all clinking together while he shifted his weight back and forth as he stood there.

Although it may seem like Malcolm had stopped and stared at Sethimus Foximus for quite some time, it was only a matter of seconds in between the time Sethimus had said hello to Malcolm and when Malcolm had replied.

"Uh . . . Hello Sir." Malcolm uttered.

Malcolm was quite exhausted from the unexpected excitement of the day. He slumped back into the arm chair as Major Heggs waved Sethimus Foximus into the house. The two old friends scampered into the kitchen and began making a considerable amount of noise banging pots and pans about as if they were in a badly rehearsed school marching band.

Malcolm did not even try to get up and see what was going on. He was stricken by a sudden fit of sleepiness, which he forgot was a side effect from his eye drops. The last thing he he remembered was a smell. He was unsure if the smell was good or bad, but it filled his nose holes right before he dozed off.

Meerkat Minor, Ch. 5

As Malcolm struggled to suction his eyes into his skull sockets, Major Heggs "Ha-rrrrmph'd," slapped him on the back, and marched to answer the door. Malcolm tried to follow, but ran into a corner due to the fact that he still had his hands over his eyes. "Ow. Sweet Francis, that hurt!" He heard Heggs yell at him from around the corner, "No one's called me that in years!" Malcolm was confused. And also temporarily blind.

Meanwhile, Heggs swung open the heavy oak door with woosh. "Ah-ha! I was wondering when you would get here old friend!"

Old friend? Malcolm thought. Old friend? Another Heggs?? Please not someone else like Heggs! I can't struggle to keep my eyes in all day! And if my hands are over my eyes, I can't protect my ears!

But Malcolm, dear reader, need not have worried. For at the door with Heggs was Sethimus Foximus. As his name suggests, yes, he was a fox. If you have in mind a red fox, you are mistaken. He was more of a burnt orange with a hint of umber, that color delicately fostered for blending into the Oklahoma fields. And the reason you need not worry that he is another Heggs--as much as we do love the boisterous major--is because Sethimus Foximus was a far more mild mammal. Sethimus was an artist.

Now, how did Major Heggs and Sethimus Foximus meet? As interesting of a story as it is, I feel you will learn it far better later in our current story about Malcolm. Sethimus tells it much better than I ever could. So for now, we return to Malcolm, who had just grasped his eye drops, squeezed the drops into his eyes, and was seeing Sethimus for the first time ever.

"Well, hello there, young man," soft spoken Sethimus said to Malcolm.