Fourth chapter in my attempt at children lit.
Chapter IV. Part I.
Spoom sat on his wrinkly butt next to Willy. Hertrude had just finished explaining the blue butter secret to him and he slowly scratched at his chin with one of his long claw.
“Hmmm,” he said. “Uncle Phylt never said anything about that.”
“Well, yeeaah,” Syps said making a face. “That’s because he’s not a blue butterfly. How could he know blue, blue, blue if he’s not a blue butterfly from the Blue Waterfall?”
“I guess,” Spoom said. “I always thought sweetberries were baby-slothmole talk.”
Syps bounced to his feet.
“Can we go now? Maybe the bright-blue butterfly talked to some other bushcat and they’re going there right now!”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Hertrude said crossing her white paws on the grass.
Syps dropped down into a squat in front of her.
“How can you be sure?” he asked her, his fury nose wrinkled in suspicion.
Hertrude smiled. Her eyes glimmered and she wiggled her ears.
“I just know,” she winked at Syps.
“Hmm,” Syps said unconvinced.
He looked at her for a moment, and then he stood back up.
“If you say so,” he grumbled.
He turned his back to them and got on his knees.
“Come ooon, Spoom,” he said. “Climb on, we have to go!”
“Okay,” Spoom said, “But only if we’re back before super. Mom is making beetle soup tonight.”
“Eeew,” Syps and Willy said, making faces.
“You Slothmoles eat the darndest things,” Willy said.
Spoom smiled at that. He was used to his friends making faces when he talked about Slothmoles’ favorite foods.
Spoom was three times smaller than Syps, about as big as Hertrude, and a good four times bigger than Willy. He slowly climbed onto Syps’s back, clinging onto his long, brown fur with his three-fingered paws.
Once he was set on Syps shoulders, in his slow, monotonous voice he cheered: “Good to go.”
“Woo-hoo!” Syps shouted.
He bounced to his feet and Spoom almost fell off.
“Wo-ow, nobody said anything about rodeo,” he complained.
“Sweetberries, here we come!” Syps cheered, oblivious to his friend’s protest.
He took off, jumping in the air every few yards, Spoom hanging on for dear life on his back.
Willy and Hertrude shook their heads at him and go to their feet too.
“Blue, blue, blue, yum, yum, yum,” Syps sang as he ran between the Nude Trees in the direction of the Blue Waterfall.
Willy and Hertrude watched him go for a while and right when they almost lost sight of him, Syps turned around and ran back to them.
“I don’t know where we are,” he said, slightly out of breath.
“This way,” Hertrude said and they started in the opposite direction.
End of Chapter IV, Part I.
To be continued…