Elspeth and Twigg

Episode One

About Names

"Why, all sudden-like, do you feel this compelling desire to cross the stream? It's not like you're an egg-layer or an… antler-hatter," said Elspeth.

"Moose." said Twigg. He's a practical sort of guy, not one to waste words. Sometimes, though, he gets started, and he doesn't want to stop, which must be something to do with always worrying if this will be his only opportunity.

"Where?" Elspeth asked softly, still talking about the moose, even though she was watching the sky and the clouds, and wishing she could see the wind.

"There isn't one here, now. I'm just saying that's the name of the antler-hatter. They're called moose, except that Ranger is called Ranger, because that's his—"

"—Flying claws!" screamed Elspeth.

"No, that one's called an owl. It's a variety of monster. You're getting names all jumbled, again. In order to say that you have seen an animal or a monster, you need to have different names for them. See, they have—"

"—Flying claws… now!" she said, crouching low and choking back what could have been a very loud screech.

With that, Elspeth pushed Twigg under a bush.

They tumbled out the other side of the bush and down the hill, resting with an 'oof' beside a very large, mossy rock.

A very big and hungry owl, swooped down from the sky and brushed the bush with her wings, and she flew away to perch on a high branch in a nearby tree. Owls are silent—they're built that way—so that they can find you, long before you find them.

"As I was explaining," said Twigg, while he plucked leaves from his tail, "Ranger is a moose, but all mooses are not Ranger. We name animals this way, so we can tell them apart. And monsters, too, even though they are all monsters, if we have different names for each kind, it will be easier to know what to do when they're around."

Someone, another day, had dug a burrow below the rock. It was warm and cozy, and more than large enough for Elspeth and Twigg, and layer upon layer of leaves.

"We almost died, and all you can talk about is antler-hatters?" shrieked Elspeth.

Twigg sat up very tall as he said, "you can't live your whole life hiding from monsters. Still, let's spend the afternoon under this rock; there's a lot to see, here. Look, right there, it's a leaf from an oak tree. Have you ever seen such a glorious leaf in your entire life?"

"I thought you were going to cross the stream," said Elspeth.

"Oh, I'm in no hurry," said Twigg.

Episode Two

It's Not About The Leaves

Twigg was right, of course, there were some fine leaves around that rock. They were the kinds of leaves anyone would be pleased to gather together and save, perhaps under a rock. And then they could bring them out for very special occasions. Of course this is not a story about leaves.

These were the leaves that fell from the trees late last year, still golden and crispy. Nestled beneath them were the leaves from the year before, now dark and soft and twisted. Beneath those leaves were the leaves from the year before that, though now they looked much less like leaves.

Those leaves from three fall seasons back, older than Elspeth herself, were now more like the earth on the path that leads over the top of the hill. They looked hardly at all like leaves, which is just as well, because this is not a story about leaves.

"Such a morning, such a day, such a heap of leaves as this—such as it is—we should follow that path over the hill… as such," said Elspeth, poking her head from the burrow to watch the sky, and up the hill, and then again at the sky.

"Is the monster still in that tree?" said Twigg, busily sorting through the leaves and making neat stacks of the most colorful, and of the largest, and the smallest, and of those that reminded him of other things, and of those that didn't.

"Monster? Oh, you mean the claws… the, um, monst… owl! An owl! Of course, I was sure of that, all along. See, just like the one right up there in that tree. Yes siree, that's an owl, that's what we call them. We say, 'good morning, Miss Owl.' Personally, I like to say, 'quite the view from your tree, Owl-lady.' Maybe later on we can chat, 'so, Owly, if I may call you that, how's the family, how's the kids, did you see the rainbow this morning?' … Um, Twigg, what was your question?"

"Did you see it?"

"What? Oh, you mean the owl? Nope, she flew away while I was… why, did you want to talk to her? I sure would. I'd say, 'hi there, Miss Monster, what's it like to fly, so high, on the wind, from tree to tree?' And then she would say… well maybe she wouldn't. So, what was the question?"

Elspeth and Twigg spent the remaining minutes of a quiet afternoon, in the burrow beneath that big rock. The owl monster never returned, but you can never be too careful about that sort of thing.

Late in the afternoon, when trees cast long shadows across the hillside, and the warmth of the forest drifted away with the breeze, there was a stumbling sound and an 'oof,' and several more things outside of the burrow that sounded nothing like an owl. An owl wouldn't make any sound at all, which is how they knew it didn't sound like one.

"I checked out there last time," whispered Elspeth.

Twigg crept softly to the opening. "No monsters. Just leaves and rocks and trees, and leaves, and Ranger, and more leaves. There's a green one that should still be on the tree."

"Leaves, huh? Who'd have thought?" said Elspeth. "What was that part about Roger?"

"It's Ranger, that's the name," said a booming voice, as Twigg came tumbling back down into the burrow.

"I—I—I knew that," stuttered Elspeth.

An enormous nose, a snoot, all brown and leathery and blowing steamy air from its nostrils, pushed its way into the burrow, pinning Elspeth and Twigg against the back of what was now a very crowded burrow.

"El… Elspeth, this is Ranger, the friend I've been telling you about," said Twigg, proudly, though a little nervously, too. He reached out cautiously and patted that huge nose. "Ranger, I'd like you to meet Elspeth, she's the…"

Elspeth whispered so softly that she barely herd herself say, "pssst, Twigg, are… are you sure he's not a monster? He looks like one. At least the part in here—and there is even more of him that's not in here, right?"

"Glad to meet you, El… Ellie," said the nose, in a deep, round nose voice. That nose was of course connected to Ranger, a moose, as tall as ten squirrels and as long as a dozen rabbits, not counting their tails and ears. Most of his body was as high above the ground as an owl in mid swoop, and waiting right outside of the burrow.

The nose pulled away from the burrow, leaving the burrow's opening much larger and brighter, and much less hidden, and much less beneath the rock, and much more moose-shaped, than it had been just a minute before.

Twigg nudged Elspeth with his own little nose. "Go on out and meet him," said Twigg.

"Aren't you coming?" she whispered.

"I'll be with you in a minute. I just have to… straighten up a little."

Elspeth reached one paw, and then an ear, through the moose-shaped entrance of the burrow.

Twigg carefully organized his collection of leaves in back of the burrow, beneath the rock, in several neat stacks, grouped by their shapes and sizes, and in other ways known only to Twigg, himself.

Elspeth soon found herself standing in front of four long and spindly legs. She looked up, and then up, and then farther up, and found that they lead all the way up to just about the largest moving thing she had ever seen, and she was in its shadow. Up even higher was that nose; it didn't look as large from so far away.

"Hello," said the moose. "I'd like to ask you a favor."

Episode Three

Down The Up Path

"Lookie-lookie… lookie!" shouted Twigg, as he came darting out of the burrow, clutching in one paw something that looked almost nothing like leaves. "Yes, life is good! See this, I found a snail—a really, really big, juicy snail—in the… what? Why are you looking at me like… did I step in something… what?"

"Eew!" said Ranger.

"Eew!" said Elspeth.

The moose named Ranger, turned his huge head toward Elspeth. "S'cuse me, Mizz Rabbit, ma'am," he began saying in his deep, booming voice, while he dug at the dirt with his hooves. "If I may, we haven't been properly introduced. I don't want to sound forward, but I smelled you under the rock, and Twigg already told me about you being just right and everything. And I'm not very good at this. So, hello, pleased to make your, uh, intro. I'm… uh… excuse me a minute."

Ranger looked down at the ground and scuffed his hooves against a rock, and he turned quietly away. A moment later he said, "Twigg… are you going to eat that thing?"

"Well, aren't you the gentleman," said Elspeth. "I have met parts of you—near the top… front parts, I'm guessing—so, it seems you're not made of leather, everywhere, which is nice. And, umm—"

"—What? Why, do you want some of it? It's not really all that big. Kind of medium; stand back, squint like this, and it's downright teeny," assured Twigg, while tilting his head to one side and squinting at Ranger.

"Twigg!" whispered Elspeth, "The Antler-hat is trying to introduce—"

"—Well, I found the snail, and… fine, I know what you're saying. I'll just save it. You can thank me later."

"Umm, Antler—Mister Antler, sir—what sort of favor?"

Without looking at Elspeth, Ranger said, "I'm sorry, please, please call me Moose or Ranger or not Roger. There, that wasn't so bad. Ooh, that was bad, I don't know… she won't like me."

"All righty, then. That I can do; no problem. It was lovely meeting you. Thank you, have a nice day, and walk safely."

Elspeth ran around the moose's four long legs, singing, "it's summertime and Ranger-Ranger, always Ranger, not Roger! Always a moose, moose, sweet moose. Lovely Ranger, Ranger, Ranger. Never Roger, and especially not antler-hatter, or especially not Ranger, or… not… umm… oh, umm—"

"—Pssst," Twigg whispered, "it's Ranger."

"I, umm, I was just working up to that part. Umm… Ranger. What an odd name, Ranger," said Elspeth. And then she whispered, "Ranger, Ranger, Ranger."

"Quit badgering him."

"But I'm a rabbit! C'mon, I'll race you around his legs."

"And," Twigg nodded his head, "I think Ranger wants to ask you more than that."

Ranger shook his head just enough to let Twigg know that he was still listening.

"Okay, simple enough, I'll tell you. See, he would like you to get something out of a tree for him. That's all, simple as that."

"Oh, Twigg, I'd love to, but I'm not much for climbing trees. I'm more of a ground dweller," said Elspeth.

"That's okay, I can do that part of it," said Twigg.

"Then I guess you don't need me at all."

"Right. No, no, no, you're the most important part! You will… be… the… the… help me out here, big guy."

"She's the spotter," whispered Ranger.

"Yeah, what he said," assured Twigg.

"Okay," Elspeth smiled softly, "where's the tree?"

"Well," Twigg stammered, "just, you know, over there, on the other side of the hill. Hardly anything at all."

"What about your leaf collection?"

"I hear there are some great leaves on the other side of the hill."

"He seems very nice. Do you know when I might be able to talk to him directly?"

Elspeth and Ranger and Twigg, walked over to the path that would soon lead them up and then down the other side of the hill. All the while, they watched for monsters and leaves, and Ranger's long legs.

Episode Four

Bugs!

They had been walking up the hill for nearly three minutes, so of course Twigg was beginning to get restless. "Just curious," he asked, "but how did you get the name Ranger? It doesn't sound like the regular animal kind of name. Not even the sort of thing you'd call a monster."

"Umm… sorry, here's the trail, right here," Ranger said softly, as he stepped from the underbrush and onto the middle of that well-traveled path. It was a long and curving trail, just wide enough for one moose at a time, and it stretched from the valley floor below, to beyond the top of the hill.

Ranger walked right up the middle of the trail, while Elspeth and Twigg darted around the rocks and bushes along the side.

"Okay, fine, I'll start," Twigg said enthusiastically. "I was named for a mighty tree."

"That's not what you call a tree. They are, most generally, called trees, or Oakk-k, or Pin-n-n-n-n… n-n… n," said Elspeth, with some air of authority, while she ran alongside the trail.

"Yes it is… a tree name—a mighty oak tree—tall and graceful, and… tall, and, uh—"

"—I don't think so."

"Well, part of one, anyway," explained Twigg. "It's the part right up there near the top. That's where the tender bits are, with the very best view of the sunny day, and bluebird nests, and the very best leaves."

"So," said Twigg, while tumbling in a pile of fresh leaves, "how did you get named Elspeth? That's not the name of something in the woods, is it?"

"Well, I was sitting there and I… I don't know. Yes I do, but I don't know how or why. But I do know what. Okay, I was sitting there and not… I don't—yes I do. Okay, somebody asked who I was, and then somebody else said Elspeth, and I don't know if they were talking about me or not, but there it was."

"So, what is your name?"

"It's Elspeth, of course. Okay, I remember. It was a very long time ago, and I was really little, and my eyes were very tired, and then somebody said—"

"—That's how everybody gets their names," explained Twigg. "When you're little, somebody looks around you, and what they see, is what they name you."

"So they saw an Elspeth, then?"

"Right, of course. So, what, exactly, is an Elspeth?"

"I am. They must have been looking at me."

The moose walked up the trail, toward the top of the hill. The brown squirrel and little gray rabbit, bounded through the underbrush, along side, keeping pace if not exactly following in line.

"So," said Elspeth, "what's a Roger?"

"It's Ranger," said Twigg.

"Exactly." She ran up to the very top of the hill, for the very first time, for her very first look at the other side. She stood in a bright spot, away from the trees, away from the bushes, where she could see nearly the whole valley below, and to the next hill, way over on the other side.

"Elspeth! Get out of the clearing!" shouted Twigg.

"Right. Thank you, I was getting carried away. It's so beautiful, so different, so bright and… well not completely different. And come to think of it, this time of day it's no brighter than it is—"

"—Get out of the clearing!" Twigg shouted again.

Elspeth tumbled beneath a bush.

"Excuse me, Mister Twigg," Ranger whispered, "I don't mean to be nosy, but why don't you want her to look over the hill? It's a beautiful view, and everyone should see it."

"It's the monsters," Twigg explained politely.

"I'm sorry, but I've never seen these monsters of yours," assured Ranger.

"Don't they have owls and hawks and foxes and… foxes, and such, where you come from?

"Sure. I saw that owl, today. But she wasn't a monster. She was very pretty, and she flew so gracefully," said Ranger. "Sometimes I wish I could fly. Oh, I'd settle for just being able to take off these antlers, sometimes. You're walking along all quiet-like, and then you see somebody walking next to you, and then you realize that it's you—"

"—She certainly is a monster!"

Hey, hey now, that's no way to talk about someone. How do you know that owl meant any harm?"

"Monsters are always hungry."

Well, you do eat bugs!"

"What, you don't? Do you know what you're missing? They're like… supper and a refreshing drink, and dessert, all in one package. Most of them come with their own carrying containers, too. Mmm-mmm-mmm, they are mighty tasty. I eat other things, too, depending on what I can find; life is not all acorns and berries, and especially not when you don't have any acorns or berries."

Ranger shook his enormous head as he said softly, "but eating living things—"

—So you still want part of my snail? Well, okay, if you… I'm not some kind of monst… they are great, and they… I am not a monster." Twigg leaned against a rock beside the path. "Maybe… I am a monster."

Episode Five

A Thousand Rangers

To be continued…