“Now would be a good time to get out
of here, John William,” Ferdinand yelled through the chaos. John William
scurried toward the exit dodging flying chairs, tables and even bandits light
enough to toss. In a table just off to the side sat a possum wearing an eye
patch and tattered coat with miscellaneous items pouring out of the pockets. He
seemed to be completely oblivious of the tussle going on around him. A familiar
leather pack with a padded shoulder strap hung from his chair. “My bag!” John
William blurted and made a hard turn toward the table.
“What are you doing, boy? We were so
close to the door!” Ferdinand cowered deep into the pocket.
“That is my bag; I’m not leaving
without it!” John William approached the table and stared the possum down.
“Who’s there?” The possum squinted
through his good eye. He put his paw out, grabbing at the air.
“Over here….” John William waved his
arm awkwardly.
“Oh! There you are! Are you here to
try your luck?” The possum slid three mugs around on the table.
“What? No, that bag hanging on your
chair is mine. I want it back.” John William replied.
“Sorry, finders, keepers… I won it
fair and square. You can wager for it if you want,” said the possum, raising
his eye patch. “What have you got?”
“Um, I have this pet hopper.” John
William pulled Ferdinand out of his pocket.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa; wait just one
minute; I am no one’s pet!”
“Ooh, he’s feisty; I like him! Okay,
all you have to do is guess which mug the nuts are under.” He lifted the mugs
to show the nuts then quickly swirled them around with his hands. “They call me
Hawkeye; how about you, fella?”
“Um…J-Jammer, yah… Jammer,” he
replied, dizzy from watching the swirling mugs. “That one….” He pointed to the
mug in the middle. The possum lifted the mug exposing the nuts underneath.
“Nope! Sorry, Jam-Jam; nothing
there,” Hawkeye declared, sitting back with satisfied look on his face.
“Yes there was! I saw the nuts!” John
William shouted.
“I saw nothing!”
“Oh, this is nonsense….” Ferdinand
jumped out of John William’s pocket and yanked the bag off the seat while they
argued. “Jammer, let’s go!”
“Yes, okay! Thanks, Hawkeye….” John
William perked up and followed Ferdinand out the door with his bag stuffed in
his coat.
“Hey! I want my hopper pet!” Hawkeye
stood up and tapped his cane out the door behind them. “Come back here!”
“Keep walking, possums have terrible
eye sight. We will lose him easily,” said Ferdinand.
“Hawkeye!” A bandit with a deep,
raspy voice marched over to the possum clutching a matted feather. “You told me
this empyrean feather would give me magical powers! Now I’m going to have to
beat you with my fist!”
Hawkeye placed his hands over his
heart and closed his exposed eye. “It’s happening!” He fell flat on his back
and threw his legs in the air. “I’m moving toward the light!” His paw twitched.
He opened one eye, glanced around, and then quickly shut it again. “Good bye,
Azra’s Pith.” He let out one last pitiful groan.
“Pathetic display…,” Ferdinand
muttered. “There is no way anyone would believe that… not even a big, oafish
bandit.”
The bandit nudged the possum with his
boot, and with a defeated shrug of his shoulders sauntered into The Garbage
Pail to join the scuffle.
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