"When Squirrels Were Yellow" by Sabrina E G Withers

“Back when squirrels were yellow and the land was peaceful and calm,” Coru hesitated at the snorted giggle from the child curled up on her lap. Reaching out a hand, she gently moved a stray hair from the girl’s round face, tucking it behind her slightly tapered ear.

“What amuses you so?”

Two bright green eyes looked up at her from the upside down face below her.

“Yellow squiggles. How can they be yellow?”

“They were yellow,” she said, smiling broadly, “because they ate lots of bananas.”

The child wrinkled her nose in a show of disgust, sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth.

“Bananas, not taste good. But squiggles might like them,” she mused.

“They must have done,” Coru stated. “Otherwise they would not have become yellow.” She tickled her daughter, who squirmed, wrinkling the red velvet material of her mother’s dress.

“Land, peaceful and calm,” the child prompted, slightly breathlessly. Coru inclined her head in response.

“There was a great change that came upon the land. Cold winds started to blow in the mountains and the bananas that had long flourished started to die.” She placed a finger on her daughter’s lips to hinder the response that she knew would come, amused by the glare Tani gave her. “The squirrel clans started to import their precious food from countries far away, stockpiling what they could. Until, one day, the caravans of traders stopped.” Coru moved her finger when she felt a set of teeth nip at it. “Now, Tani really, no biting.”

“Sowwy,” Tani mumbled, not in the least bit chastened. “Did they all die?” She breathed the last with round eyes. Coru laughed and tapped Tani on the nose.

“No little one. The wisest of all the clan leaders called a great conclave, a meeting, bringing in squirrels from all across the land. Many came to see what could be done to hinder the disaster they could all see coming.” She motioned with her hand in the air and ghostly images started to appear. Tani followed the flowing lines, seeming to take in more than just the images in front of her. A large, translucent, curved dome appeared and all around it smaller, strangely glowing, yellow shapes moved. Tani reached out and poked one of the yellow shapes. She giggled when her finger dispersed the shape only to have it reform a few moments later. Coru made the shapes dance away from her daughter’s questing fingers when Tani tried it again.

“Realising that there would soon be no food left for them to eat. The three wisest of the squirrels devised a plan. They presented it before the council where it was accepted unanimously.”

“You an mouse lee?” Tani asked confused. Coru brought several of the squirrel shapes into view.

“Unanimously, means that all of them agreed.” All the squirrels raised their paws. Their expressions were anything but uniform, ranging from resigned to relief and even smugness. Tani, however, did not seem to notice.

“So what did they agree too?” she looked at Coru quizzically.

“That they would send out some of the tribes to find the source of the bananas, and see why they had vanished; also those that were left behind would search for an alternative source of food.”

Three squirrels were highlighted in glowing orange.

“The Suntails, the Darkstreaks and the Blackstripes volunteered to take the journey beyond the shores.”

“Only three tribes?” Tani whispered gently. “How many remained?”

“Seven,” Coru said, a slight hesitation in her voice. She eyed Tani closely but her daughter did not comment. Coru sighed inwardly; it was so easy to forget how little Tani knew sometimes.

“Were they afraid to go?” The question seemed somehow important to Tani, who sat incredibly still as she waited for the answer. Coru sent a quick look to the door as if expecting someone to be there. She leaned forward and whispered in her daughter’s ear, as if telling her a secret of utmost importance.

“Some were, but not all.” Coru hugged her daughter. “Remember that.”

Tani gripped the sleeve of Coru’s red dress, picking at the yellow embroidery.

“I’ll ‘member,” Tani murmured. “I’ll always ‘member your stories.” Coru’s grip stiffened slightly around Tani, then relaxed.

“Thank you.” Coru whispered, holding back tears, not wanting her daughter to see how much the words meant to her.

“Did they find the bananas?”

Coru released her grip on Tani and recaptured the images that floated just out of reach. Waving her hand through them everything vanished except for the three glowing squirrels.

“The three clans took some supplies and set off as soon as they could; determined to make it back with good news.”

“And bananas,” Tani added with a grin. Coru nodded, focused on shaping the flows of glowing light before her.

“They travelled over the sea, following the shipping lanes mentioned by the traders they met.” Illusionary waves smashed against the prow of an equally translucent ship. “After many months they finally made it to a small island that was said to be the source of all the bananas.”

“Were there any left?”

Coru slowed the motion of her hand and watched as her pictures faded.

“No. Not a single one,” she breathed. “There was a tribe of people on the island. Gentle and wise, they tended to what plants grew on the island.”

“No bananas.” Tani sat up abruptly. “But what will the squirrels eat?”

Coru drew a small tree with her finger, a trail of red light following her motions.

“There were red berries on the trees and the island people offered them to the squirrels. They found that the berries were the sweetest thing that they had ever tasted. They were even nicer than bananas,” Coru added, knowing Tani’s preferences.

“Not difficult,” Tani commented. “Most things are nicer, except peas.”

“They took some of these plants with them and travelled back home. However, they realised that as they ate more of the berries they changed, slowly becoming redder.” The illusionary squirrels started to take on a reddish hue as they struggled over mountains and down rivers.

“Red? That is what they are now,” Tani muttered. “Do they still eat the berries?”

“Yes, the plants thrived when they eventually returned.”

“So the clans thrived?” Tani asked hopefully before frowning. “But what about grey squirrels?”

“The clans that stayed had spent many a month looking for alternative food and one of the clans of the north, the Surestrikes, found some grey seeds that were a little bitter to the taste but nourishing. The other clans quickly started to harvest the seeds as well and as time passed their coats of yellow turned to grey.”

“But why did they not eat the red berries?”

Coru created some ghostly squirrels displaying ten squirrels, three red and seven grey, to represent the clans.

“The seeds and berries brought some strange changes over the squirrels that ate them. The grey squirrels became more aggressive, as the red squirrels began to loose their aggression.” Coru hesitated trying to think how best to describe what she meant to her daughter.

“When the clans met the red squirrels approached them, extending their hands in greeting. However the leader of the Surestrikes did not accept the greeting, instead punching the Suntail around the ears.”

The glowing grey squirrel did just that much to the amusement of Tani.

“Confused at this action the Suntails tried again, with the same result. They tried to reason with the greys but no one seemed to know who the reds were. The journey over the sea seemed to have been forgotten. The grey squirrels turned on their brethren and chased them away.”

Tani watched the fight between the squirrels with avid interest, biting her lower lip as the red squirrels ran away.

“Did any of them die?”

Coru hugged her daughter to her stroking her hair gently.

“Yes, Tani, I am afraid there are always deaths in war, no matter how you wish to avoid them.”

“But if there are still red and grey squirrels. How can there be a happily ever after?” Tani queried, troubled eyes looking at Coru who gave a small half smile.

“There were those within the red squirrel clans who decided to try to find a cure for the changes that had come over them. They experimented with eating some of the seeds but this would not fully cure them. Gathering a few less aggressive members of the grey squirrels, those few that seemed to remember their past as yellow squirrels, these scholars and healers searched high and low for a cure.”

“Did they find one?”

“Yes, eventually,” Coru said, wiping out the squirrels with her hand and creating a new smaller squirrel. There had been a slight hesitation in her voice as she spoke.

“What was it?” Tani asked her eyes fixed clearly on the image in front of her.

“Spinach.”

“Spinach?” Tani wrinkled her nose in surprised laughter. She looked up at her mother and noticed the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Was there a problem with the cure?”

“Well the spinach made them as balanced as they had been before the lack of bananas, but it turned the squirrels green.” She dragged out the last word launching a tickling attack on Tani. “And most squirrels did not want to be green.” She transferred her daughter firmly into her bed and tucked her in gently. “Time for you to sleep,” she said, planting a kiss on Tani’s forehead.

“Thank you for the story.” Tani whispered, suddenly aware of the growing darkness. “Will you tell me another tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Coru whispered. She ran a hand over Tani’s hair then walked to the door. Her passage through it was hindered by the man standing watching them both. He stepped aside without a word to let her enter the hallway. The cut of his uniform denoted him as one of the guard but his ears did not have the tapered point that most of the warriors had. The slate grey of the material was a contrast to the colours that the entire household wore.

“Why to you tell her these foolish tales?” His deep voice held no disapproval, just mild curiosity.

“I do not want them to shape her views. She needs to know what they have done and why.”

“She is too young for such politics.” His jaw clenched as he watched Tani motion the small, transparent, squirrel Coru had left in the room towards her, its green glow just visible in the dark. His eyes darkened as Tani breathed more flows of magic into it, making the green squirrel dance.

“She will understand it one day.” Coru said placing a hand on his arm. “She will remember.” He glanced down at her and his eyes softened.

“I do not think Amlin would much appreciate being cast in the role of red squirrel.”

“No Markus, I imagine not.” Coru smiled grimly. “But then I really do not care what she thinks.” She sighed, closing the door to her daughter’s room, the room she never left. Markus made a move to take her place at the door. She turned and looked at him, stopping his motion.

“Let me do it,” she said, the sorrow in her voice clear. “It should be me.”

Markus reached out and laid his hands on her shoulders lending her his strength. She picked up the chain that hung by the door and hooked it through the large rings available. Taking out a small key she attached the lock to it, just as she did every night. Coru touched the wood of the door as if reaching out to the child within.

“Be safe my daughter. I love you.”