Chapter Three

For a moment no one moved, then Petal scampered over to where Aubergene lay and knelt down at his head. Very gently she lifted it onto her lap, for once lost for words. Instead she closed her eyes tightly and began to cry. Dripper, who really didn’t understand what all the commotion was about, but decided that he would join in too, promptly started to bellow as well. Ambrose got down on his knees and crawled toward his motionless brother. He sniffed the air; all he could smell was soot. He tapped Aubergene cautiously on the shoulder, once then once again, a little harder. There was no movement. Petal bawled, “ Oh Aubergene, you goose, whatever shall we tell Mother?” Her wails became louder as did Dripper’s and Ambrose scampered outside to get away from their noise.

He felt quite helpless and was suffering a little from shock. How could they tell mother that Aubergene died when he fell out of the kitchen chimney? He skipped here and there amongst the milkweed and wild daisies, wondering what to do now. After all he was only a little mouse and had not experienced a death by misadventure before. Suddenly a memory of mother mouse standing beside a little mound, flashed through his mind. She had placed a small bunch of wildflowers on the mound before saying a prayer and turning stoically away.

Just as if a light had gone on in his mind, Ambrose knew what he must do. With purpose now he scuttled here and there gathering pieces of milkweed and wild white daisies. Then he made his way back inside, back to the hearth of the kitchen fireplace. There knelt Petal, Aubergene’s head still cradled on her lap, whimpering softly to herself and subconsciously patting Dripper’s shoulder. As for Dripper himself, he had finished bawling and was gazing vaguely around the kitchen and rubbing his nose with the corner of his mousey-rug. Ambrose scuttled to his brother’s side and put the small bunch of flowers on Aubergene’s thin chest.

‘ Oh Ambrose, whatever are we going to say to Mother? You know she is sure to realize that there is one of us missing tonight.’ Petal produced a spotty handkerchief from her pinafore and began to twist it around and around tortuously.

Ambrose looked thoughtful. ‘I don’t know. You know her eyesight has not been best of late and if we’re lucky she’ll not notice.’ He sniffed hopefully, looking a little brighter.

‘ That’s all very well, Ambrose. She might not notice at the tea table, what with you and I arguing over who has ice cream or jelly and Dripper spilling the milk bowl all over the cloth. But wait until she comes to say goodnight, she’ll surely notice then.’

It was while the brother and sister were in such deep discussion that they were interrupted by a humungous sneeze. Followed quickly by another.

‘ Use your handkerchief, Dripper,’ Petal admonished the baby mouse automatically. This was answered by another sneeze even more tumultuous than the first. Ambrose and Petal, even little Dripper covered their ears to prevent them from tingling. All three mice turned to look a their ‘demised’ brother, who was at the moment sitting bolt upright with a skinny finger held under his nose. Petals, pollen and leaves were everywhere.

‘ I think I’m allergic to flowers,’ the somewhat dazed Aubergene announced.

Chapter Two

Meanwhile left to their own devices, the mouse children had been using the afternoon to explore the kitchen fireplace, which was unlit. There were four children in the mouse family at present, Ambrose and Aubergene, the twins; they were the eldest and as such they were generally in charge of any activities the mice children indulged in. Petal, their sister, was anything but a petal. She was a real tom -mouse, and delighted in joining her brothers in their adventures. Unfortunately more often than not it was her job to mouse-sit the baby, Dripper. A job that she loathed. She was at a loss to see exactly why it should always fall to her to have to mind Dripper. After all today’s society was supposed to be an enlightened one in which the men folk in the community did their fair share in raising the babies. It was really too bad of Mama, she had spoilt the twins atrociously, and just like Daddy, they had her wrapped around their little tails. No husmouse of hers was going to behave in such a manner, -- and get away with it. She balled up her tiny fists and taking a deep breath sat down on the hearth to await her brother’s return. Dripper, so named for several reasons (some of which will become obvious as the story continues) sat next to his recalcitrant sister, a pout of discontent on his small be-whiskered face. Both of them sat there thinking very similar mutinous thoughts when from above them they heard a faint call, “Oh my! Pet-t-al!”
At first Petal thought it was God calling down from heaven to discipline her for her wayward thoughts. But reason asserted itself and she realized the call was far too faint to be God; it was more like a squeak. A distressed squeak at that.
            “Oh – oooh He-ell-up!” This time Petal recognized the cry for help. It was Aubergene, and from the sound of it the silly little rodent had got himself stuck up the flue.  Jumping up, her skinny arms akimbo, she stretched up on her tiptoes and standing on the hearth she thrust her little head up into the cavernous hole at the bottom of the chimney.

At first she saw nothing, it was as black as pitch. When as her eyesight adjusted to the difference in light, she was shocked to see two small eyes staring back at her and even more shocked to recognize Aubergene’s beady little orbs.

            “ Aubergene Roosevelt Mouse!” she squeaked indignantly. “ What would Mother Mouse say?” she demanded.

            “Petal! Come and get me! Ambrose can’t hold on much longer and when he lets go I’m done for!” the last word ended on a terrified squeal. There was a scuffle and some indignant yells, a sound like small gravel stones hitting the side of the flue.

            “ Aubergene! What is happen…?” Petal’s question was interrupted as a deposit of soot landed on her upturned face, filling her eyes and coating her whiskers. However she didn’t have much time to lament her situation as almost immediately after this rude invasion, she was knocked aside by two rather large flying missiles.

After Petal had blinked her eyes several times and given herself a good shake to dislodge most of the soot, she manage to focus on the cause of the entire disruption. There in front of her were two identical black mice. Each looked as woebegone as the other. Ambrose was sitting on the bricks at the hearth surrounded by soot and ashes, and there next to him lying very still was Aubergene, hanging on to his twin’s tail.