Ruffie Lion’s Quest [YA] 2,500 (standard:adventure, 7185 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jun 19 2020	Views/Reads: 1439/996	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
In Almost Africa, humans capture his family. Little Ruffie must save them. He is aided by a deer, a rhino, and a raven.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

off all those thieves by himself.  Not even the real Tarzan could do 
that. 

The next morning, after a restless night in the shrubbery, kept awake by
fear, cold, and because he was used to his own bed in his own room, 
Ruffie finally went back to what had formerly been a nice comfortable 
home. First, though, he lay in the bushes for a few more hours to make 
sure they had all gone. 

He found his home torn up. Bits of food were scattered over the kitchen
and even the couch torn up in the living room. Hyenas aren't very neat, 
especially with other people's property. His own room was missing his 
bed with his comic book collection torn and scattered around the room, 
hyena pee all over everything. 

Tears came to Ruffie's eyes as he entered his parents' room. He could
still smell his mama, even over the stink of hyena poop. Ruffie sniffed 
his mama's torn nightgown, then lay alone in the corner, crying for her 
return. 

"I gotta find Mama," he cried, wiping his snout. "I just gotta." 

*** 

Ruffie woke later, hungry and sad. He looked around his mama's room. It
seemed strange, with clothing thrown around and dresser drawers emptied 
onto the floor, somehow not familiar anymore, as though it ... it ...  
it was someone else's house. 

He padded downstairs, hearing his claws clicking on the stairs. Ruffie
normally made a game of it, clicking away like a tap-dancer to Elvis 
Presley tunes in his head. Today ... well, they were only partially 
unsheathed claws, making sounds that would make his mother angry 
because fingernails scratched wooden steps.  And he didn't care. 

At the thought, he had to stop, grabbing the railing with one paw and
wiping his eyes with the other. He'd suddenly realized his mother 
wasn't there to punish him any more. 

A growl from his tummy reminded the youngster that he'd better find
something to eat, and then begin a quest to find his parents. Ruffie 
had little hope for his daddy. Being a lion, he had already seen plenty 
of death in his few short months. And the way Daddy had fallen showed 
Ruffie that he probably wasn't gonna get up again. 

"But I'll find Mama," he growled out loud, to himself. "You just see if
I don't." 

The young lion searched the remains of his kitchen, looking for
something to eat for breakfast.  All the remaining Joe had been eaten 
by the hyenas, but he found a spilled pile of Klibbles and Bites 
breakfast cereal. There was plenty of milk, since hyenas didn't like 
health foods, so he fixed himself a big bowl of cereal. 

Feeling a little better, Ruffie set out into the vast Almost African
plains, seeking his mama. 

At the top of a small hill, he turned around for a last look before
leaving it, and his childhood, behind. With misty eyes, the lion cub 
stepped off the slope and padded resolutely down the other side. 

Being young and inexperienced, Ruffie hadn't thought to bring anything
with him but his own fur. For days and endless nights he wandered 
toward the sunset. By day, the sun beat down on his shaggy head, while 
cold Almost African winds froze him at night. 

Ruffie was thirsty most of the time while living on roots and bugs.
Which was how he had his first emergency. 

Hungry and thirsty, Ruffie saw a line of trees. Desperately seeking
shade, he lost any caution he might have had as he hurried toward them. 
Pausing inside the tree-line, he could see, dimly and through thick 
bushes, a flowing stream in the distance. 

Ruffie ran down a slope and right into very thick berry bushes. At
first, it was easy going, but soon became harder as vines and thorns 
slowed him down. He was finally forced to stop, less than four-feet 
from the other side. His fur was caught in tough thorny bushes while 
his legs were tangled in vines. The poor lion couldn't move an inch, 
yet was only a few feet from life-giving water. 

"Grrrrrrowwwwllll," he cried, but growling did no good. It didn't scare
the vines one whit. Not even half a whit. Almost African berry bushes 
were selfish and weren't afraid of lions, not at all. They held on 
tightly. He struggled until he was too tired to fight anymore, and hung 
limply, only one paw on the ground. Eventually, the small lion, tired 
from his ordeal, ate all the berries he could reach and dozed off into 
a restless slumber. 

"That's a funny way to sleep." 

Ruffie shook his weary head, eyes opening to find he was only inches
from a pair of larger brown orbs, looking back at him. It was a deer, a 
young one. Ruffie had never met a deer, though he had seen a picture in 
one of his mama's cookbooks. 

"Isn't that uncomfortable? Or are you one of those wood mites my mother
warned me about?" the deer asked. 

"Get me out of here, please," Ruffie begged. In his condition, even a
lion would beg. 

"Ha. So you can eat me, I suppose?  Mother warned me about you mites.
You can stay there for all I care." 

"I'm not a mite. I'm a lion ... and I won't eat you. I promise." 

"You're a mite. Mites grow on trees and bushes. And you're supposed to
give me three wishes when I find you."  The deer looked around, then 
shook her head. "And you don't look like a lion to me." 

"Well, I am a lion." 

"Prove it. Do something a lion does." 

"Like what? I'm not an adult. I don't know what lions do." 

"They growl real scary. Can you do that? I don't think wood mites can
growl very good at all." 

Ruffie took a deep breath and growled one of the worst curses he'd ever
heard his Daddy roar. It shook treetops and knocked the deer back three 
feet. 

"Well, I guess you are a lion, but lions still eat deer. I better get a
drink and leave. Maybe I can bring you some water? Where's your 
canteen?" 

"I don't have one." 

"Well, you can have a drink from mine, but don't bite me, okay?" 

"Yes ... I mean no, I won't bite you." 

Ruffie waited until the deer -- when she turned to go to the stream he
could see it was a female--drank and filled her canteen with water, 
bringing it back to him. He wished she'd hurry, since he was very 
thirsty. 

The doe came back and held the canteen to his lips, pouring it past
sharp teeth. Then she sat down next to the confining bushes and dipped 
her head to eat tender grass at the edge. 

"Come on, see if you can get me loose. I promise I won't eat you,"
Ruffie begged. 

She shook her head, smiling as she swallowed. 

"Lions eat deer, my Mama says. And I'm not stupid." 

"My name's Ruffie. I don't think I know you well enough to call you
dear," he said, trying to get on her good side. 

"Oh, I forgot. My name's Doris, Doris Deerovika. My grandfather came all
the way down from Almost Russia when he was a kid." 

"Is that a long way? I never been to school yet." 

"Or you're just stupid. Of course it's a long way from Almost Africa.
Daddy says he started off with legs eight-feet tall, and they were worn 
down to only two-feet by the time he got here. Yes, a long, long way." 

"I'm on a long trip too. Humans captured my Mama and I have to find
her." 

"It sounds like a long quest. Humans are everywhere in the world, places
deer and lions can't go. They'd eat both of us. Well, now don't take me 
wrong ... Ruffie, but they've probably already eaten your mama. I hear 
they do that sometimes." She grinned, still chewing, and added, "And it 
doesn't look like you're going to go anywhere, stuck like you are." 

"I'm hungry too," he said, watching her eat a clump of berries. 

"Which is why I'm not letting you loose. Not till I get a long way from
here." 

"If you get a long way from here, how will you get me loose?" 

"Oh. I'm a smart deer, I'll think of something. I can tie one end of a
vine to that bush right there, and carry the other end with me, then 
jerk it when I get way over there." She pointed a hoof into the 
distance. 

"If you try that, you'll have to get real close to tie it and maybe I
can bite you." He make a fake growl. 

They sat in silence, both trying to figure out what to do. Doris didn't
really want to leave him like that, and Ruffie didn't really want to 
bite her. His parents had always done the hunting, not him, and he 
didn't know if he could bite a friend, much less eat her. 

"I wish I could go on a quest, like you," Doris finally broke the
silence, a plan forming in her young mind, "but a deer, alone on the 
veldt, wouldn't stand a chance. The first lio ... tiger that saw me 
would eat me." She hung her head. "Mama says before long though, I'll 
have to leave home. That I'm getting big enough to go my own way and 
get married. I don't want to get married. There's no adventure in 
getting married and having my own children." 

"Then why not come with me? We could both look for my Mama, and I
wouldn't eat you. Not at all. We're friends, and friends don't eat 
friends." 

She raised her head and looked carefully at Ruffie, who in turn made
sure he kept his mouth shut. Finally, Doris made up her mind. She 
reached delicately over to him, nibbling on and pulling bushes and 
vines aside, careful to stay away from his sharp teeth. It took a while 
and made her gums sore, but she loosened the vines enough so he could 
get out, leaving a lot of fur on the brambles and bushes. 

Well, as hungry as he was, she did smell sweet and delicious to Ruffie,
but he remembered his promise. A little later, while running ahead, 
Doris found a dead possum, which Ruffie was very glad to eat, though he 
wished he had his ketchup with him. The food eased his mind, as well as 
his stomach. He wasn't about to tell Doris about the deer his father 
had once caught. And, after all, "As king of the jungle, a lion always 
has to keep his promises," his mother had told him often. Ruffie sat on 
the grass, possum bones lying around him, and cried at her memory. 

Days later, while pushing their way through somewhat familiar berry
bushes, a stern voice came down from on high. 

"When are you guys gonna leave my berries alone," it said. "You already
ate half'a them." 

The two weary travelers looked up to see a raven glaring down from a
tree limb. 

"We did?" Doris asked, almost sheepishly. 

"Of course you did. Don't you even remember, stupid animals? I swear,
you guys can be so darned idiotic."  The raven sneered. 

"We're on a quest," she called up to the raven, "to find Ruffie's
mother." 

"You won't find her that way, walking in circles," the raven said,
laughing, "unless she's walking in circles too?" 

"Oh, yeah?" Doris looked around. The area did look familiar. 

"I suppose you could do better?" Ruffie asked. 

"Who couldn't? Nobody could do worse." The raven laughed harder, her
cackling bouncing off the trees. 

"Then why don't you help us?" Doris asked. 

"Why should I?  It's fun watching you screw up. You guys always screw
up, you know? You're not as smart as us guys." 

"If you're that smart, which way should we go?" from Ruffie, getting his
fur worked up with anger. 

"Depends on where you want to go, idiots." 

"I dunno," Ruffie had to admit. "Where the humans are, I guess. I gotta
find my Mama. The humans have her." 

"Pick any direction, they're everywhere," the bird said, ruffling her
feathers, "everywhere at all." 

"Well, have you seen any in, say, the past week?" Doris asked, "or are
you too blind to have noticed." 

"Blind! Blind? Me? I see everything. I fly so high I can sit on the moon
and rest on my way to fly around the sun. That's how much I see." The 
raven blustered while jumping around on the limb. "I fly so high I can 
peck holes in the heavens, holes that you call stars." 

"Yeah, yeah, but did you see any humans a week ago?" Doris demanded. 

"I not only saw them, I counted them. One, two, three ... many. I even
followed them to the city, where they went into a building there, a big 
one yet. One that has a lot of you guys inside, making all your idiotic 
noises."  She continued, "Why can't you talk gooder, like us ravens?" 

"Can you guide us there?" Ruffie asked. 

"Guide you? Do I look like a slave? I'm a free bird, free to ride the
aimless breeze--" 

"But free to show us, too." Doris turned to Ruffie and said, in a loud
whisper, "That bird's a liar. She's too stupid to guide us." 

"Stupid?  An animal like you calling ME stupid? I'll prove it to you.
I'm the smartest bird in the world, much smarter than any land animal. 
You, a deer, calling ME stupid?" 

She stomped along the limb, feathers flying loose in her rage. Settling
down to a low mumble, the raven ordered, "follow me if you can," and 
took off, flying west. Grinning, the other two followed. 

"Awwwwwk. Awwwwk.  Come on, you slowpokes. What's taking you so long?"
the raven, aptly named Ravena, buzzed around their heads as the two, 
lion and deer, trudged up a high, grass-covered hillside. 

*** 

They'd been walking for hours. Ruffie panted heavily as he tried for
just a little more effort, just one more step toward the top of a slope 
illuminated by a setting sun. 

Even Doris was stumbling, long front legs almost doubled at the steep
incline. Deer were designed for level ground, she thought, eyes on the 
summit. 

Ravena wasn't even winded, drifting back and forth on hidden air
currents, only giving an occasional flutter to keep herself elevated. 

"Finally," Ruffie said, panting while he stood on top of the slope. 

At the sound of a low "Wheeeee," he turned to see Doris coming up beside
him. 

They stood on a higher plain, looking the same except that the greenery
had somehow been stripped. Broken tree branches dotted the area, 
trampled by someone or something. Bushes, half eaten, littered the 
landscape. Trees were bent double. It looked like a storm had hit. 

"What happened here?" Doris called to their airborne companion, only to
get a loud cackle in return. 

"How the heck do you think I know?" Ravena replied. "Whatever it was, it
happened a long time ago -- like yesterday." She flapped down to stand 
on a limb next to her companions, "I can't be everywhere at once, you 
idiots." 

"So you don't know everything, is that it?" Doris asked with a snicker. 

"I simply wasn't interested. I don't spend all my time watching you
guys, you know? I do a lot of deep thinking while I fly." 

"Sure you do, like how to find bugs. Ugggh, eating bugs." 

"Bugs are good for you. Better that plain old grass. Insects come in
many flavors, grass comes in only one -- dirt." Ravena laughed at the 
thought of eating dirt filtered up a green stem, instead of nice juicy 
bugs. 

"So does grass, you should try it someti--" 

"You two cut it out," Ruffie interrupted, "What to do now?" 

"Go ahead, of course, ahead. Can't you figure anything out?" Ravena
asked. "What would you do without me, anyway?" 

"Then let's go ahead. We have to find a place to stay tonight," Ruffie
said, "Someplace with water and shelter." 

"Please, Ravena. I'm tired," Doris pleaded. 

"It's about time you asked me nice," Ravena chirped. "I see a place over
there, to the right. Come on, and don't try to slow me down." 

She flew, straight as an arrow, toward a distant grove of almost apple
trees. 

When they staggered to the grove, the companions found the trees were at
the edge of an abandoned human stone quarry, with solid cliffs on two 
sides and small piles of sorted and unsorted rocks lying around. 
Luckily, they had come from one of the other directions, avoiding steep 
drop-offs. 

On the way, Ruffie found a dead hyena, trampled by whatever had
decimated the veldt.  He would take pleasure in eating one of those 
animals, the same type that had torn up his home. He was, however, 
tired of such roadkill. Ruffie knew that sooner or later he would have 
to learn to kill his own meals -- and didn't like the idea. He'd rather 
find his Mama and let her do it for him. 

As they approached the trees, the two land animals heard a great deal of
cursing and hurried to see what was annoying their airborne companion. 

"You don't own the place. Wait until my lion gets here and he'll kick
your butt." They could hear Ravena cursing. "You better start running 
if you know what's good for you." 

"Duh, yeah? You say, you stupid bird. And I ain't afraid'a no lions.
Come on down here an fight. I dares you." 

"You better hope I don't. I've licked bigger guys than you. Shoo, shoo,
get out of here." 

"Uh, make me, huh? You just make me. Can't do it, can't do it, can't –
duh – do it, can you?" 

When Ruffie and Doris came upon the altercation, they saw Ravena, high
on a branch, trading insults with a young rhinoceros. It had its head 
raised, waving a stubby horn at the bird, one hoof stomping the ground. 


Ruffie growled his most horrifying growl, which, seeing as it showed a
bit of fearful whining, wasn't really much, as he ran over to the 
would-be combatants. 

Doris, more sensible, trotted up, to stay a good bite farther away. 

"Hey. Stop it," Doris yelled. "What's going on here?" 

"This big idiot says he'll eat me. ME.  He thinks he can kick MY butt,
the big oaf," Ravena tried to explain. 

"Can you shut up this bumblebee?" the rhino asked, staring at his
adversary. "It annoys me." 

"Bumblebee? You bumbling idiot. I'll show you a bumblebee," Ravena
replied, "I'll come down there and--" 

"Please, please, Ravena. He doesn't mean it. Do you? What is your name?"


"Duh, let me think ... Homer. Yes, Homer. That's what they call me." 

"Is it all right with you if we spend the night here, Homer?" Doris
asked, humbly, "We promise not to make a mess, and we'll leave first 
thing in the morning?" 

"Duh, I guess so, since you ask so nice, Miss Deer.  I don't mind nice
people keeping me company." He looked down at the ground, seemingly 
depressed. "'Sides, it ain't my home, anyways." The rhino shook his 
head, sadly. "I'm lost. My herd came through here yesterday. I -- I -- 
I stopped to eat a snack and fell asleep. Wh -- When I woke up, they 
was gone ... gone without me." Homer rubbed his eyes against the tree, 
shaking it and leaving a wet spot -- which started Ravena into another 
spate of cursing. 

Doris couldn't help it. She felt safer with the large Homer around, that
and a raven that could warn them of trouble. To a deer, it was 
instinctive to distrust a lion. Even a kindly-acting one like Ruffie. 

"What're you thinking about?" Ruffie asked, as though reading her mind. 

"Uh, uh, how nice it is here ... with such pleasant companions," she
replied, feeling a little ashamed of her thoughts. 

"Don't you want to go back to your herd?" he asked, lying down beside
her. "It's still not too late. Maybe Ravena would guide you?" 

"I don't think so, Ruffie. Back there, I'm nothing but another doe. I
wouldn't have any adventures except when lio ... when meat-eaters 
attacked. Even then, we can usually outrun them. 

"Then, some big guys would bump heads to fight over me, as though I'd be
impressed. Having a harder head than the next fellow is no criteria in 
being a better husband. 

"And then, and then the one with the hardest skull would take me, put me
in a herd with a lot of other does, and make me into a baby factory. 
Some future." 

"But you'd have more security with the herd," he reminded her. 

"Oh, yeah, until I get too old to run fast. Then a lio ... tiger or
something will eat me.  I'd rather have some adventures while I can. 
Maybe," she said, thrusting a hoof out at a steep angle, "I could learn 
some of that karate stuff I read about in a human magazine?  All I can 
do now is throw a few stones." 

Ruffie was young and naive, but not stupid. He caught the lapses in
speech. 

"Don't worry, Doris.  I'd never eat you. You're a friend, and I don't
ever eat friends." He patted her with a sheathed paw. 

"Not even if you were starving and we were on a desert island togeth--" 

"Will you two idiots shut up so a bird can catch a few winks," came from
the tree above them. 

Doris and Ruffie shut up, moving close together for warmth. They knew
they would have a long day of walking coming up in the morning. 

*** 

It was morning, Ruffie saw as he woke alone. He'd been woken by a steady
"thump," "thump," "thumping," from somewhere beyond the trees. Rising 
and stretching, the young lion padded over that way. 

He saw Homer with Ravena sitting on his shoulder, both watching Doris
throwing stones at a bush halfway up one cliff.  Even as Ruffie 
watched, Doris dipped her head like a metronome, picking up a rock in 
her mouth and launching it at the bush. Every one seemed to hit the 
target, knocking leaves and branches from the suffering vegetation. 

When she was finished, Homer grunted and Ravena cheered. Ruffie only
stood there, unbelieving. 

Doris turned and grinned. 

"I can do it with sticks, too," she told them. Seeing Ruffie, she
trotted over, proud of her performance. 

"Where did you learn to do that?" Ruffie asked. "I never saw anyone
throw like that before." 

"Well," Doris told him, with a shake of her head, "a gal's gotta protect
herself." She looked around. "Actually, I was raised around a lot of 
rocks and found I was good at throwing them. Since I couldn't find 
anyone to teach me karate, I practiced and practiced until I got better 
with stones. I figured that if some ... tiger ... attacked me, I could 
at least make it hard for him to eat me if I knocked out his teeth." 

Ruffie waited until she turned back to Homer, before shuddering. 

With Ravena guiding them, the four traveled for several more days,
skirting any humans the raven happened to see. They did, however, come 
upon more and more signs of humanity, such as small roads and 
cultivated fields. 

Homer, Doris, and Ravena enjoyed a wealth of food, as did Ruffie from
roadkill along the roads, as well as sharing bugs with Ravena. He had 
never hunted for himself and didn't want to make Doris nervous by 
starting the practice. So Ruffie had to keep his distance from rabbits 
and small game. It wasn't hard, since the game felt the same about him. 


*** 

"There it is, up ahead," Ravena told them one afternoon. "I don't see
any of those stupid humans, either," she chattered at them. "Hurry up, 
you stupes. I told you I could do it, yes I did. I told you." The raven 
stopped a moment to flutter her feathers. "Hurry up.  Let's go ... 
slowpokes." 

She tried to peck Homer on the butt, which only made the rhino angry,
him trying to swat her with his tail. 

When the raven flew toward Doris, the deer picked up a rock and mumbled
around it, "Don't you dare. I'm a lady." 

In minutes, they came to a long low building made of concrete blocks.
One large door in back was open wide. 

"I'll look inside," Ruffie told the others. "You wait here.  I don't
smell Mama, though. But there are, or were, a lot of frightened people 
here. I can smell the fear." 

Ruffie tried to look brave as he slowly padded up an incline toward the
open doorway. He had no way to know that it was a human loading ramp. 
At the top, the lion cub had to stand on his back legs to see over a 
wall where trucks backed up for loading, and into the building. 

The inside was a large open space, a cluster of large cages along one
wall and racks of smaller ones along another.  In the rear were small 
doorways and a few interior windows to smaller rooms. Nobody seemed to 
be around, at least that he could see. 

Ruffie scrambled up and into the building, back legs scratching for
toeholds in the concrete. Once inside, he crept along a wall, watching 
for signs of people or humans. On the way around the large cages, a 
dozen of them, he looked in to see they were all dirty, as though 
they'd been occupied. Things like magazines, dirty sheets, and 
cigarette butts were lying around inside. 

In front of the tenth cage, he smelled his mother. The door was open, so
he padded inside, sniffing as he went. In one corner he saw and smelled 
his mother's droppings. He was elated because she had been inside, but 
saddened because she wasn't still there. There was no sign of his 
father. Well, Ruffie sighed. He didn't really expect it. He thought his 
father was dead. 

After circling the room, and finding nobody, he called to Ravena, who
was waiting at the entrance. 

"Might as well get everyone inside," Ruffie growled. "At least we can
spend the night here." 

As Ravena left, Ruffie lay down next to his mother's droppings, tears
coming to his eyes as he wondered what he could do next. He had to find 
her, Ruffie thought, even though he had no idea where. She could be 
anywhere by then. Ruffie sniffled, trying to hold in his grief. 

"Did you find her? You didn't, did you?" Doris said, trotting up to the
silent lion. "Awwww, that's too bad. We can't give up.  She must be 
somewhere around here.  I'll look." She trotted away to inspect the 
offices. 

Homer had trouble squeezing inside past the entrance, but finally made
it, with the loud encouragement of a cursing raven. Whenever he felt 
like giving up, Ravena would swear at him and pull his ear or peck his 
butt. It was less painful for the rhinoceros to keep trying, than to 
give up. With skinned knees, he finally made his way inside. 

One of the smaller rooms was a real find, since it contained large sacks
of food, some that even big cats could eat. Whoever owned the place 
must have been feeding a lot of different kinds of people, Doris 
thought, munching on yummy grain. There were also a couple of troughs 
still full of water. A little stagnant, but still drinkable. 

"Duh, let's stay awhile, huh?" Homer asked. "An, maybe an rest up, uh?
We's gonna find your mama, Ruffie. Don't worry you none 'bout that." 

*** 

As on that earlier morning, Ruffie woke to the sound of thumping. Doris
had been pleased to find a large cache of human kitchen knives, all 
stacked neatly in boxes with the lids loose. She was in one of the 
smaller rooms, throwing knives at a rough circle Homer drew on one of 
the warehouse walls, a good forty or fifty feet away and through a 
small doorway. 

Ravena cheered the doe as she made circles and squares of blades, sunk
into a plywood inner wall. 

Now, those things are worse than stones, Ruffie thought. They could
really hurt a guy. 

"Bet you can't hit this wooden crate, Doris?" Ravena called, flying
above the object. Ravena could see that, from Doris' angle through the 
doorway, it would be a difficult shot. 

"No problem. Get out of the way," Doris whinnied, laughing while setting
a knife loose. "Thunk!" it went, into an edge of the crate. 

"Hey! Cut it out, out there," came a squeaking cry from inside the box. 

Ravena fluttered away and Doris trotted from the smaller room, just as a
large rat squeezed out of the crate through a hole in the back. 

"Isn't it bad enough that you guys invade my building? Do you have to
tear it apart. I've been writing the lease up for you, and ain't even 
done yet." 

"Lease? Your building! What you taking about, rat?" Doris asked. 

"Duh, yeah, what she said," from Homer. 

"Why for your lease, what else? You seem to be moving in, eating my
food, playing with my knives. Do you think that's all for free?" the 
rat blustered, waving a small cigar around in one hand while holding a 
ballpoint pen in the other. "I'll call the cops." 

"Uh, sorry, Mr. Rat," Doris said, trying to placate the rodent. "What do
you charge?" 

"One pepperoni pizza a day, per occupant," the rat said, “plus a five
pizza deposit, refundable in crusts as you leave." 

"How did you get to own this human building, Mr. Rat?" Ruffie asked,
coming over, sensing a welcome break from his grief. 

"Well, when the previous owners were arrested they said I could have
it," the rat told them, somewhat proudly. He looked up at Ruffie.  He 
was small for a lion, the rodent knew but those sharp feline teeth were 
still imposing to a rat. 

"Uh, maybe I can give you a break, like a free first night, but you have
to be gone by ten a.m. checkout time?" the rat suggested. 

"What were they arrested for, Mr. Rat?" Doris asked, gently. "And what
happened to all the people in the cages?" 

"I'll sell you that information for a--" 

"Grrrrrrrrr," Ruffie advanced, baring his teeth. 

"... for nothing, nothing at all, only good will to prospective
customers," the rat finished, quivering against the crate. 

"Well, idiot, or do I sic my lion on you?" Ravena asked, fluttering to
stay at one spot in front of the rodent. 

"I feel generous. You guys can pay me later, okay?" the rat asked them,
looking dubiously at Ruffie, who was towering over him, glaring down 
with angry eyes. "Can any of you read human?" 

"I can," said Doris. "So don't try to screw us." 

The others shook their heads or muttered that they couldn't, which
brightened up the rat's grin. Being a city rat, of course he could read 
and write. He figured he could still make a profit out of the country 
hicks. 

"What happened," he told them, "was that the humans here, the previous
owners you understand, were running a people smuggling racket. They'd 
capture people out in the bush and sell them to zoos and for pets." 

"And what about my Mama?" Ruffie growled. "I know she was here?" 

"There were a couple of lions here a few days ago," the rat admitted.
"One was all bandaged up, with two broken legs, and the other one was, 
I think, a female." He paused. "But they were shipped out in a truck." 

"My Mama," Ruffie growled loudly. "Where did they go? Tell me or I'll
bite you, hard." 

"Duh, yeah, an I'll stomp on you, too," Homer stomped a foot on the
concrete floor. 

"I think you'd better tell us, rat," Doris said, sweetly, blinking doe
eyes at him. 

"Uh, I dunno, but they did leave a lot of papers in the office.  Maybe I
can find out." the fearful rat looked up at eight angry eyes. "Uh, over 
there, that door.  Okay, uh, follow me, okay?" 

He cautiously slid along the crate, expecting any moment to be stomped
or bitten. Clearing the box, the rat slowly ambled, backwards, toward 
one of the offices, the others keeping pace. Although Mr. Rat would 
have liked to run, he knew better. 

Homer couldn't fit through the door, but the others followed Mr. Rat
into the office. 

The place was a mess, papers scattered all over. Although the police had
taken certain books and records, they hadn't packed every piece of 
paper and soda bottle. 

The nervous rat and Doris Deer began sorting and reading, looking for
any indication as to where the lions had been sent. 

*** 

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, two humans were sitting in the office
of a small zoo, and talking.... 

"Now look, Sweetie, you have to do something. The business is not only
bankrupt, but in debt to the bank," Mr. Samuels, an accountant, advised 
his client, Sweetiepie Goodie. "The only reason the bank hasn't 
foreclosed is that they can't find a buyer yet and don't want to be 
stuck with a zoo and a bunch of animals to feed."  He leafed through 
official bank paperwork and continued, "Sooner or later, they'll have 
to do something with it." 

"But, what can I do, Mr. Samuels?" the woman asked, slumped down in her
chair. 

She had, only a month before, inherited the business from her uncle. Now
she was not only stuck with a useless property, one deep in debt, but 
with a dozen formerly wild animals. The only other assets she had were 
a stock of frozen and dried food for them, that supply going down every 
day with very little money coming in to replace it. 

"You could sell that lovesick rhinoceros?"  Mr. Samuels told her.  "Her
constant whining is driving your few customers away. And those two new 
lions your uncle bought.  Jeez.  One has two legs in splints and can't 
walk, and the other hides from the customers, crying almost as much as 
the rhino." He shook his head, continuing, "All that despondent noise 
drives away any paying  customers you're lucky enough to lure in here. 
People pay money to enjoy themselves, not listen to sad animals crying 
and moaning. You need friendly ones doing tricks." 

"They're all trained to do tricks, all but the new lions," Sweetiepie
answered. "The rhino does card tricks and can play poker with the tiger 
brothers. That always attracts customers." 

"Sure she does, but not since her boyfriend died. Now all she does is
sit there, crying her eyes out." 

"She'll get over it eventually. Just give her a little more time." 

"Sure, she'll get over it, but not before the bank sells her to the glue
factory. She'll make tons of HappyTime Superglue." 

"I can't let them make glue out of the poor little girl." 

"Then you better find some new acts, or new training for the old ones. I
expect the bank to close you up any day now." 

Mr. Samuels, a realist, packed up his briefcase, said goodbye, and left
a saddened Sweetiepie to suffer alone. 

*** 

"Here it is, I think." Mr. Rat, eyes red from hours of reading human
documents, had found a recent billing slip mentioning two lions.  It 
was almost new, and probably the lions the others were looking for. "It 
says two lions were shipped to another city, over three hundred miles 
from here. To a place called "Goodie's Zoo." 

"How do we get there?" Doris asked. That was an awful long way to walk,
especially with a rhinoceros slowing them down and amongst humans. She 
knew there was no way they could do it. 

"It ain't all that far," Ravena chirped, "as the raven flies." 

"Duh, uh, I can make it. You can all sit on me when you gets tired. I'm
strong. I can make it. Okay, huh?" from Homer. 

"The cops or the humans would stop you." Mr. Rat shook his head.
Although he wanted them off his salvaged property, he was smelling a 
profit. "I can get you there," he told them. "Just let me think." He 
knew a smart rat could find some way to get them to that zoo, and make 
money while doing it. 

Mr. Rat made a call to the mouse mafia. Unknown to humans, the mouse
mafia is a large criminal organization employing hundreds of thousands 
of meeses, worldwide. 

"Hello, Don Meesio? Alfredo Rat in Almost Niarobi here.  Look, I got a
problem.  Maybe you guys can help me out." He explained how he had to 
get the companions to the faraway zoo. Then listened. "Of course.... 
Sixty, forty? .... Fifty, fifty...?  You got me by the short-hairs. 
Okay, thirty, seventy, your favor." 

Proud of his intelligence and ingenuity, Mr. Rat went out to talk to the
others. 

"I got it set up," he told them. "A truck with a human driver will be
here tomorrow. It'll take you right to the zoo. You'll have to get in 
one of these cages, though.  It won't be locked and the truck'll stop 
for bathroom breaks." 

Mr. Rat had set important interspecies matters into motion. After
hanging up, Don Meesio called a human associated with his group and 
explained. The human, an auto thief named Mr. Sinatro, stole a large 
truck and arranged for another human to drive down to pick up the 
companions. 

When he was finished, Mr. Sinatro drove over to "Goodie's Zoo" to talk
to Sweetiepie Goodie. 

*** 

"But, Mr. Sinatro, I don't have the money to pay for new animals. I just
don't have it." 

"I know, Miss Sweetiepie, which is why I came to you. My boss wants to
buy part interest in your zoo. He thinks that with the new animals, one 
even a talented knife-thrower, you can turn it around and make a good 
profit for both him and you. 

"Our organization, M&M Industries is always looking for good
investments.  And you do want that poor little lion cub to be reunited 
with his mama, don't you?  Would you leave a young orphaned rhino 
without a proper home?  Alone in the city, he'd only turn to crime and 
become a hopeless drug addict.  Just think how your crying rhino could 
use a new male for a friend?" 

Of course it was an offer Sweetiepie couldn't refuse. She sold part of
her business to the mouse mafia's M&M Industries, which brought Ruffie 
and his companions to the zoo which, in turn became profitable, with 
everybody living happily ever after. 

Once a rifle was designed for Doris, she was in seventh heaven, her
shooting exhibitions bringing in thousands of new customers.  A 
side-effect was the many human deer hunters that gave up hunting.  It 
took a much braver hunter to shoot at a deer when it might fire back at 
him. 

Mr. Rat even received enough money to buy his warehouse officially,
where he started up his own smuggling business.  He now smuggles 
illegal tobacco into the Almost United States. 

The End.


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