The Rightful Heir (8 page)

“So…you've decided to treat me like your mother again?”

Benjamin cleared his throat. “I'm really sorry about the way I acted earlier. I just miss Pugsly so badly, and whenever I wear that collar…it makes me feel close to him.”

“You need to let him go, son. He lived a long and good life, but we all knew he'd die someday. Everything that lives dies, sweetheart.” Carol stirred the bubbling spaghetti sauce with her big wooden spoon.

“Mom, you're not going to go into that stuff about you and dad dying, now are ya?” He hated the few times his mom had given him a life lesson on mortality.

“No, I'll spare you this time.” Carol smiled.

“What's this about your mom and me dying?” From his favorite chair Tom Biggs's eyes looked over his newspaper through the bar opening of the kitchen.

She leaned over to look at him. “Nothing, dear. I haven't made plans to off you yet.” She grinned evilly. His eyes widened and slid behind the paper.

“So…” Benjamin began, “Is this old lady a nice person?”

“Yes, yes, I believe she is. I see her at church but I don't think she has any friends. And I know she's in need of money. She was telling me about her sick little dog and how she didn't have enough money to take him to the vet.”

“Poor thing.” He tried his best to look concerned about the no-good mutt wearing his beloved dog's collar.

“So I went over to her house this morning—it's actually not too far from here—and gave her a little money and Pugsly's old collar. It definitely made the dog look better!” Benjamin felt a pang and grimaced. Carol raised her eyebrows. “Kind of a cute little dog…
kind of.”

“Well, I hope
her dog appreciates it.” He stared at the floor and wanted to stomp his foot through it, but contained himself.

“I'm sure it does.”

“It was really nice of you to help that poor old lady, Mom.” He faked an admiring smile.

“Thank you, sweetie”

Benjamin wasn't any good at tearing up on demand but tried his best, mustering just enough sincerity to be believable. “Mom…I feel sorry for her. Do you think she could use a few chores done around the house?” He couldn't look his unsuspecting mom in the eye.

“Honey,” and her tone made him worry that she knew what he was up to, “that's a very nice idea! I'm sure she'd
love
to have a young man come over to help…And now that I think about it, her lawn needs mowed badly!”

“Well, good grief, Mom. I wouldn't mind mowing her lawn after school tomorrow.” Again he looked at the floor, hoping he'd have the
pleasure
of mowing the old lady's lawn—and yanking that collar off her nasty little dog!

“Okay, Ben, I'll give her a call.” She grabbed the phone book and flipped through the pages. Benjamin went into the living room to sit with his dad. While Tom talked about the buzzard in the windshield, Benjamin tried to listen to the phone conversation.

“Mrs. Crane? Hi, it's Carol Biggs.…
Carol Biggs!
I was over at your house earlier today.… I'm calling because my son would really like to help you out around the house.”

Geez, Mom, I don't know if ‘really' is necessary!

“I mentioned to him that maybe you'd like your lawn mowed.… No, he doesn't want money so you don't have to worry about that. Do you have a lawn mower?… Okay, then. Ben will be over tomorrow after school.… Alright. Thank you, Mrs. Crane.
Bye bye.”

“I mean…a buzzard, for crying out loud!” His dad snorted.

The boy ignored him and shot up off the couch, running to the kitchen. “Well, what did she say?” He was a little too energetic.

His mom smiled. “You can mow her lawn.”

“Yes!” His fists pumped the air.

She arched an eyebrow suspiciously. “You know, Ben, I have never seen you so excited about mowing someone's lawn before.”

“I love to mow, Mom, you know that!” he laughed nervously.

“Do you want me to drive you over there tomorrow?”

“How far is it?”

“She lives where Hopkin's Switch road begins. You know where it is?”

“By that big water tower?”

“Yes, and it's the first house on the…actually it's the only house out there. Probably a little over three miles from here.”

“Oh, I'll just take my bike, then.”

“Okay, sweetie. I think she'll really appreciate this.” He started to walk away. “Oh, and Ben…” He turned around hoping his plan wasn't just foiled. “I'm very proud of you!” He tried not to laugh as he left the kitchen but the thought of him actually being excited over mowing an old lady's lawn was just too much!

After dinner he went to his room to work on homework and then go to bed.

A
CROSS THE ROAD,
the kingdom was a downright mess.

“What?
A thousand?!”
Miss Nightingale's long, colorful feathers ruffled high over everyone at the startling news.

“Yes, you all heard me right. A thousand,” Clementine confirmed.

“Give or take…” Felix added, trying to ease the impact.

There was an
uproar from the animals at the thought of so many more residents in their kingdom. “There simply is not enough room, Clementine!” a brown squirrel yelled.

“Where is King Benjamin?” shouted a basset hound from the middle of the crowd. “He should have the final say on this.”

Roscoe and Clementine exchanged a glance. They hadn't told anyone about the lost collar. Felix stood a safe distance behind the pig, the angry crowd staring at him. Clementine cleared his throat. He knew everyone was suspicious because Benjamin hadn't stayed to talk to all the animals earlier. “Ahem. Well, you see, it's kinda funny—”

“No, it's not,” Roscoe murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up, Roscoe!” Clementine said quietly, then addressed the others. “King Benjamin kind of, um…well, lost his collar—”

“The Royal Collar!?” the old badger called out.

“Yeah…” The pig looked down and softly kicked the ground, “…
that
royal collar.”

Everyone gasped in unison, but Felix didn't understand what the big deal was. “What's so special about his collar?”

Clementine had to talk over the complaining crowd. “It's belonged to every king we've ever had.
And
…it's the reason King Benjamin can understand us.”

“And…”
Roscoe chimed in. “It apparently has a knack for getting lost or stolen!” The goat shook his head in disbelief.

The fox's eyes widened, “Ohhhhhh, I see. And he can't talk to this supposed heir without it?”

“Yep.”

“So, when will he get this collar back?” the fox asked bluntly.

Roscoe sighed. “We don't know…so I guess we just wait.”

Felix sighed. He didn't like the thought of waiting for a new king. The animals complained until they got tired. The fox
watched as, one by one, they lay down and fell asleep. “Well, I guess I'll sleep here for the night. I sure hope the others are safe.”

Roscoe overheard. “The
thousand
others?”

“Yeah. We all haven't had a good night's sleep for a while now, worrying about…well, whatever it is lurking around.”

Roscoe yawned. “Okay, I've heard enough for now. When King Benjamin comes back, we'll hear the whole story. Until then I'm gonna pretend that everything's just fine.”

Felix curled up between goat and pig. “Okay. Thanks for letting me stay for the night. It's cozy in here. I'm sure I'll have the best rest I've had in a long time.”

“Apparently you've never snoozed next to a sleep-talking pig.” Roscoe rolled over and Felix heard a mumble come out of the sleeping pig's mouth.

“Goodnight, Fox.”

“Goodnight, Roscoe.”

“Goodnight, Fatso.”

“Muhhh…buhhmuhhh…”

Roscoe lightly snorted.

T
HE BUZZARD LANDED INSIDE
the gaping black opening of the old barn as the harvest moon ascended above the trees. No longer worried about a twenty-five-foot long snake, it felt safe on the ground talking to the smaller snakes.

“Siloam? Are you in here?” the buzzard asked in the darkness.

A rattle shook in the hay. “I heard a human hasss killed a buzzard.”

“Yes. I was told not too long ago. Horrible!”

“I've not heard, however, any newsss about King Pugsssly'sss heir.”

“I found him, Siloam!” The buzzard stretched his long wings and yawned, causing the other snakes to rattle. “He lives at a
house near the tall water tower in the far west.”

“Good!
Hisssssssss
. Tomorrow you will take me there. Be ready when I call for you.”

“Yes, My Lor—Yes, Siloam!” The buzzard flew out the opening and joined the others in the trees.

“He almossst called you
Lord
, Ssssiloam!” an amused snake in the corner said.

“After I kill the heir, perhapsss I will be!”

Satisfied hisses sounded in the darkness of the barn as the orange moon climbed into the cloudy night.

CHAPTER SIX