A Very Long Time

Deep in a densely wooded area on the Island of Silva, a little south of Crystal Falls and just slightly east of the Sway River—right off the…Wait a second! Do you have your map with you? Sometimes stories are much more interesting when you have a map to follow. You’re more likely to travel with the characters on their adventures when you see the woods, rivers, falls, mountains, valleys, caves, and all the rest. But…if for some reason you don’t have access to a map right now (perhaps this is a bedtime story), you’re free to listen or read without a map. That’s okay too. But I think, if you’re able to use one, you’d enjoy it more with a map! And yes, some of you can create the map in your head as you go along, which is very impressive! But I’m convinced that if you’re able to look at one, a map will still be very beneficial to you as well. And if you’re not able, perhaps someone will describe the map to you (if you ask them nicely).

Very good. You have your map now? Or, you’re ready to create it in your mind? Then…where were we?

Oh, yes: a little south of Crystal Falls and just slightly east of the Sway River—right off the bank—there lived a family of four near a huge tree. It was no ordinary family, mind you. It was made up of an owl, a mouse, a beaver, and a skunk.

Certainly, you might be wondering how that happened—especially since Great-horned Owls typically eat mice and skunks, and none of these animals, generally, are so cordial with each other that they would call themselves friends, let alone family. In this particular case, the mouse, whose name was Squeak, was very small—even for a mouse. And while being smaller than most isn't always advantageous, in Squeak’s case it was greatly welcomed. For most predators thought him to be so little that he wasn’t worth the energy to eat—not even as a snack. And so it was with the owl, whose name was Hoot. He never even imagined eating Squeak. And so why not befriend him?

As for why he wouldn’t eat the skunk…no, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. As for how these four specific animals came to call themselves family, you’ll understand that as we get along in our story. For now, though, you just must be content in knowing that they are friends—such good friends, who share their lives together—that they consider themselves family. In a real sense, they had adopted each other as siblings.

Well...that is to say three of them had. Hoot was looked at more as a wise uncle to the other three. Nonetheless, they loved each other as much as any family could, and they cared for one another no matter how inconvenient it sometimes could be.

Now Squeak had an unquenchable love for all of them. You must know that. But over the past several months, he had especially grown significantly close to his adopted sister, Misty, the skunk. The two had an unbreakable bond like no other siblings in Woodland Haven (Woodland Haven?—do you see why you’ll want your map?)—or perhaps the whole Island of Silva. They played together, laughed together, cried together. And while they each had their own private thoughts which they didn’t always share (and everyone has private thoughts they don’t always share—that’s okay), one thing they could both count on was trust. They could—and did—always trust each other.

Why does this matter, you might ask? Well, the reason this is important to know is because our story begins with a very peculiar question…

“Where is Misty?” Squeak wondered aloud, inquiring about his dear sister skunk, in his small, but somehow not-too-squeakish voice. “I haven’t seen her since last night.”

“Perhaps went to the waterfall,” replied Hoot, in his old, husky tone. He really had no idea where Misty was, but he didn’t want to worry Squeak.

“Hm,” was the only response Squeak could think of at the moment. And after finishing rubbing his eyes from having just woken up, he started about his morning chores—mostly collecting nuts and berries. But he found it difficult to concentrate, not knowing what happened to Misty. Surely she would have told him if she was going to leave the camp last night.

You see, Misty had a habit of venturing out in the middle of the night somewhat regularly. This was the arrangement she made with them when she first joined their group. And part of the condition of her joining the group was that they would not follow her or try to find out where she went during these late night outings. And in return, she would always ensure they had a fire by which to warm themselves (yes, that’s right—she knew how to start fires!—something generally only raccoons knew how to do). When Misty first joined this family, she made clear to them that these outings were nothing to worry about, but that she could not give them any further details—no matter how often or forcefully they pleaded. But she did always tell them—without fail—when she was leaving and when she expected to return. So to disappear without a word and not come back was very unusual and caused quite a stir. As mentioned earlier, she was very trustworthy. So clearly it was a matter of great importance that she vanished without a word.

About half an hour after Squeak woke up and wondered where Misty was, the beaver, whose name was...well, Beaver, came up out of the river with three fish in his sack. “I was just at the waterfall, and I didn't see anyone there,” he stated, in his scholarly voice and customary friendly tone.

“Were you expecting to see someone?” Squeak asked.

“No…well…” Beaver now a little flustered with himself. “Misty, I mean. I didn’t see Misty at the waterfall. That’s who you were talking about earlier wasn’t it?”

“That was ages ago,” Squeak exclaimed. “How far away were you when you heard us?” thinking Beaver’s hearing must be amazing.

“I’d say he was about a mile out,” responded Hoot, not giving Beaver a chance to answer for himself, and only joking.

“Oh, Hoot!” replied Beaver. “Surely you don’t believe that! I was just over there, not ten feet away from the bank. ... I was just being quiet is all."

“Why did you take so long to come over then,” inquired Squeak.

“Well,” Beaver thought, “I was lost in thought trying to replay in my mind the events on the way here from the waterfall, desperately trying to remember if I had seen any signs of her at all.”

“Did you?”

Beaver hesitated... “No.”

Do you want to know something interesting? That’s not all Beaver was doing. He was wondering about what happened when he got to the waterfall and found those three fish he returned with tied up for him, next to a note from some friends.

He dropped his sack of fish near the fire they had going—the fire Misty had started just a couple days ago. “Should we be worried?” he asked. “It’s not like her to disappear without saying anything.”

Hoot took a breath and slowly responded, “I’ve been thinking on that very point since early this morning, Beaver. She's gone off before, but never in the dead of night—not without telling us at least. It could now well be six hours since she’s been gone. To begin a search, though. … We must think of the ramifications of that too.”

Now…one more note before we go on, and then I’ll stop interrupting (probably). I must warn you: you might be tempted to think this next part is a little boring. Well, it’s not. But it is quite a lengthy discussion.

How can a lengthy discussion not be boring? That’s a fair question. But if you think about it, most of your life is probably some sort of discussion—with family, friends…God…maybe even yourself (if you’re like me). And what helps make this discussion not boring (besides having a map handy if you’re able) is if you try to imagine yourself in their situation. Someone you trust greatly and love deeply has vanished—without a word. … What do you do? …

“I think we should look for her!” ventured Squeak.

“Yes” answered Hoot, “but how ought we to do it? … If we all leave at the same time and Misty returns, what will she think happened? Especially if this fire goes out? But if we search for her one at a time, how are we to cover all the places she might be? For if one of us goes south, when she has gone north it could take a very long time for all of us to be reunited again.

“Let us say Beaver goes south, while Misty has gone north. Misty finally returns, and then you, Squeak, head south to retrieve Beaver. But Beaver, being diligent in his search for Misty does not return the way he came, and neither does he go so far south as to cross the Little One’s River to the human territory; but instead, he travels east with the river toward Stag’s Prairie, then up north and then west again. Meanwhile, you are either continually going south well into the human territory, or you return north, or you also make your way east.

“But at that point, perhaps now you’ve been gone so long that Misty or I go out to search for you. Because now we’re not truly sure of what has happened to you. And what of Beaver? Has he returned yet? Or is he himself still searching for Misty?

“Do you see the predicament?”

The other two thought about it, with their scrunched faces giving away how hard they had to think through everything Hoot had just said. But then Squeak spoke up, “But Hoot…I still think it’s possible for us all to search for her at the same time and not miss her.”

“How can that be? These woods are so very vast, and not even I have seen the whole of them.”

“But that’s exactly my point! There are only certain places we can be sure she went.

“For instance, she’s never been across the river, at least that we’ve seen. So we can be somewhat confident that she didn’t go west. On the other hand, while she has been south before, it’s only been on a few occasions, and she’s always followed the river bank pretty closely.

“Now for the east, that can get a bit tricky because we know she loves to swim. … Isn’t she funny?” he paused to laugh, as skunks do not normally enjoy swimming. “And she’s been known to visit any of the three lakes to the east.

“That leaves the north. And when she has made her midnight ventures—the ones she’s told us about at least—she always returns from the north. Well, the northeast to be more precise.

“So…there are three of us, and three main directions she would likely have gone. Is it probable that we’d find her if we each set out at the same time, each taking one of the three directions, and then return when we’ve either found her or have at least thoroughly searched those areas?”

Beaver sat perplexed at the insightfulness of the little mouse, while Hoot considered carefully the possible outcomes. After a few minutes, Hoot thoughtfully replied, “Squeak, your reasoning is quite excellent. My only hesitation with this plan is on the off chance that she has gone west or for some other reason is not in one of her usual locations, and then returns while we are away—what will she think? Will she wait for us to return? Will she leave again going out to look for us? Will she think we have set up camp somewhere else—especially if this fire has gone out? … After all, we have lately talked of one day looking for a new camp.”

Squeak had pondered that question before Hoot even asked it, and quickly responded, “I understand that, Hoot. I do. But I think if we leave her some sort of message here at the camp, and if we commit to only checking the places she’s likely gone and then come back, we can guarantee that we’ll be reunited soon enough.”

“But what is soon enough?” Beaver asked. “Suppose we each go in the three directions, when might we expect to see each other again here at the camp? Certainly we don’t anticipate everyone returning from their quest in a few hours.”

“A few hours are out of the question,” Hoot responded. “More like a few days at the very least—and that’s assuming someone finds her immediately. And even then, we won’t all have returned by that time.”

There was an eerie silence for a short time. For they had never been away from each other for more than a few hours at a time since they had become a family—at least not all of them at the same time. Yet now, with the sudden disappearance of Misty, they’re thinking of leaving each other for several days.

But it was so unlike Misty to do something like this, that Squeak couldn’t possibly think she did it of her own free will. No. She was missing on account of some accidental tragedy—or worse, something sinister. Thus he couldn’t handle it anymore. “So what do we do then?” he spoke loudly, almost a yell.

Hoot answered, “I do think we should act on your plan, Squeak; but I also think it would be wise for us to consider it more carefully and plan a few more details. For instance, what is a reasonable time frame to expect us all to come back to camp—with or without Misty?

“Let us say that one of us goes east and immediately finds her and returns. They together reach camp by the end of the second day. It’s safe to assume that the one who has gone north will already have been back, because he would have traveled the shortest distance.

“But what of the one who goes south? It’s quite a journey if he heads all the way into the human territory—should the need take him all the way there. How much time should we allow for a search of that area before the trip back home? How long should the others wait before sending someone to look for our southern traveler? Or let us say the northern traveler returns with Misty by day two. The southern traveler returns by day seven. But the eastern traveler hasn’t yet returned. What then?”

There was another break in the conversation when Beaver, who was trying to keep up with the math and distances in his head, spoke up, “I think I’ve got it.

“We give our north-goer two days total. A half-day to get all the way to the mountains, the rest of the day and half of tomorrow to search for her, and then return by the end of day two.

“The eastern traveler will have four days total. The entire day to get to Lake Corgo, as that’s the farthest east. It won’t take long to search the area, but let’s be generous and say it takes half a day. By the end of tomorrow, he’ll have been able to search Lake Corgo and make his way northwest to Lake Diamond. Since lake Diamond is so big, he should have the entire day to search. By day four he should have enough time to travel west to Lake Newell, search the area, and be back by sunset.

“Our southern traveler should have a week. One and a half days to get south into the human territory, four days to search the area, and one and a half days for the trip home.

“What do you think?”

“It sounds right to me,” Squeak said impatiently, not really even evaluating it.

“Yes,” Hoot reluctantly agreed, “but I still think we haven’t yet planned on what to do if someone else ends up missing during this rescue mission.”

Then Squeak interjected rather abruptly, “We need to find her!

“We can’t just keep talking about all the different situations that could or might happen. I know plans are important, but we have no idea what has happened to her. And the longer we sit here making plans, the longer she’s out there…she’s out there…well, I don’t know what’s happening because she’s out there. What if she’s hurt, or trapped, or…or…”

Hoot could see where Squeak’s mind was going and gently reassured him, “Squeak. I cannot claim to know exactly what has happened. But I do know that she is clever and resourceful. I have to believe that whatever has happened, whether or not she needs our help, she is most likely alive and well.”

Silence again, but only for about ten seconds, though it seemed like ages. “Well,” Squeak broke the silence, “should we decide what to do when each of us gets back as it happens, and at least start our search now? We know when each of the travelers should be back if they take all the time allotted…”

“Good enough for me,” Beaver exclaimed.

“Very well,” Hoot acquiesced. Though he still wanted to plan for the various contingencies, he knew he couldn’t plan for them all. And Squeak was right about the urgency. For they truly didn’t know what had happened to Misty. “So who goes where?”

“You’re the smartest one,” Squeak answered. “I think you should decide.”

Hoot thought for a moment, being slightly thrown off from the comment of him being the supposed smartest one. After all, while he was typically looked upon as the one with the most wisdom in their family, it was Squeak who came up with this elaborate search plan. But not having sufficient time to comment on that remark he simply answered the question:

“Well, Beaver is by far the superior swimmer. So I think it obvious that he should travel east and check all three lakes.

“As for the south… While the trip south isn’t too dangerous in Woodland Haven, once our traveler enters the human territory, it becomes much more difficult. While the birds there are no threat to me, they may in fact try to make an end of you, Squeak. Yet, they’re not the main concern. We must remember the various cats the humans let roam around that area. And the closer you get to the cats the more dangerous it becomes. I would hate to send you along that route, Squeak. Therefore, I will make my way in that direction…which…leaves the north to you,” he ended with some hesitation.

“I can handle the north,” Squeak declared bravely.

Bravely, because the north was known to be home to several vicious animals and harsh habitats. Birds of prey much less friendly than Hoot lived where the mountains connected with the forest. There were also snakes, coyotes, weasels, and badgers. And for the last couple of months there have been stories making their way through the forest of a dangerous, deceitful fox—a fox who is known for his stealth. And who knows what trouble he may be stirring up?

Hoot could already see the thoughts of Squeak. “Don’t worry about the fox, dear Squeak. I’m sure he’s the least of your concerns. … There are more dangerous animals to be thinking of.”

“I’m not worried about them. I know who I am. I know I’m so small that most would not even think of eating me. You’ve never thought of eating me. I wouldn’t be worth the energy. But I am worried about the fox—not that he would eat me; but that he would somehow trick me. … Maybe he’s already tricked Misty, and that’s why she’s missing.”

Squeak began to tear up at the thought of it, when Beaver then began to encourage him, “There, there, friend. Misty is quite smart to be taken in by some clever fox. If anything, had she encountered him, she just as likely would’ve outsmarted him hours before he even developed a plan for how to fool her.”

“Wouldn’t that be something!” exclaimed Hoot, with some joy in his tone at last!

“You’re right,” Squeak confirmed. “She is very smart! Besides, what would he want with her anyway?”

After a little more discussion and encouragement—and most importantly, a prayer—they wrote a note on a dried, sturdy leaf for Misty, in the event that she would return to camp before any of them (the note was written in raccoon script; for that was the only written script animals could understand). Then, as it was still early enough in the morning, they each went their separate ways: Hoot to the south, Beaver to the east, and Squeak north.

A few hours later, it had now been excessively quiet near the tree that they had come to know as home for a little over a year. And they left the fire burning so that if Misty returned before they did, she would immediately know they hadn’t left for good, or perhaps that nothing bad had happened to them. The fire was becoming increasingly more enjoyable in the evenings, as the autumn was coming to a close, and winter would be arriving soon. And it had also come to be a significant source of warmth, comfort, and hope to all four of them. And if anyone were to return in the evening, just seeing it from a distance would stir up strength enough to finish the journey.

But then…the quiet of this beautiful scene was abruptly interrupted! For a very strange and most disturbing thing happened.

A duck named Paddle waddled out of the river bank—having heard most of their conversation several hours ago (he was very patient to wait this long). He walked up to the note they left for Misty, grabbed it with his beak and tossed it into the fire. After the note had burned up, he then extinguished the fire by kicking dirt over it until it was completely out. And he patiently endeavored the tedious task of moving the logs around to make it look as though a fire never existed.

Lastly, he grabbed the sack of fish that Beaver had left near the fire and then vacated the camp. While he was simply doing what he was told, it was almost as if he was the only one who knew the hard truth, that none of them would return to this camp for a very long time.