12 Days of Chipmunks: “Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer”
DECEMBER NINETEENTH: DOWNFALL
The Florist and the Chipmunk
Chapter I
There once was a man who lived in a tiny cabin on the outskirts of a small mountain town. The man desperately wanted children, but as a florist, he had long ago taken a vow of celibacy. Not wanting to break his vows, yet still wanting a child of his own, the man grabbed his lantern and ventured off into the woods to ask the trees for advice. First, he asked the beautiful maple what to do.
“O slender maple, whate’er shall I do? To father a son is all I ask of you.”
“Relinquish your vows,” the maple replied. “Find a wife, and father your own son. That is the only way.”
The man did not want to relinquish his vows, so he continued deeper into the woods. Eventually, he came across a great, strong oak tree. Perhaps the oak knows better than the maple, the man thought to himself.
“O mighty oak, whate’er shall I do? To father a daughter is all I ask you.”
“If you wish to remain celibate, florist, then celibate you will remain, and no daughter will you beget. Now be on your way.”
The man did not want to leave the forest until a tree told him how to have his children. And so he walked, and he walked, and he walked until it was very dark out, and he kept right on walking. Eventually, he came to a part of the forest he had never seen before. Of course, it was so dark he couldn’t see anything at all, much less the gnarled root right in front of his foot. The man tripped and fell hard on the damp ground. Getting up and brushing himself off, the man lit up his lantern. What he saw then was the ugliest tree he had ever seen. It was so misshapen, so blackened and twisted, that it looked more like an enormous skeletal hand than it did a tree. Its branches held no leaves, and its multiple knots and diseased hollows seemed to form a face, a hideous face that seemed to stare at you no matter where you stood. The florist stepped back, but only for a moment. Then he found his anger again, and stomped towards the tree. I haven’t come this far for a tree to make me his fool, he thought.
“O ugly devil, asleep in the ground, give me a child or I’ll burn you down.”
The man chuckled to himself and began to gather some sticks and dry leaves around the base of the ancient tree. He was just about to light the first twig when he heard a chit-chit-chitter coming from within the tree’s gaping mouth. And suddenly, a baby chipmunk poked its head out. The man was astonished. I asked that tree for a child, and a child it gave me, he thought. I suppose the two of us have different ideas of what a “child” is, but perhaps I can make this work.
Chapter II
The man took the chipmunk home. He made it a little bed, gave it a little set of clothes, and fed it three little meals a day. But he never let it go outside. He taught the chipmunk about life, and about civilizations ancient and modern. He taught it about cooking, he taught it how to read, he even taught it how to speak. Each day the chipmunk learned more, and each day it became more curious. Finally, one day, the chipmunk asked the man why it wasn’t allowed outside.
“If you went outside”, the man replied, “you’d forget everything I’ve taught you. Don’t you want to stay smart? Don’t you want to be a human like me?” For although the man was pleased that he had the chipmunk to care for, he still wished in his heart of hearts that it were a human child instead.
One day, at the end of autumn and the beginning of winter, the man came home from a long day’s work selling flowers in the small mountain town. But when he called out for the chipmunk, there was no response. The man rushed to the chipmunk’s little bed, only to find he wasn’t there! Suddenly, the man heard a cry from outside. It sounded like the chipmunk, and it sounded like it was in trouble. Oh, no, thought the man. That poor little chipmunk’s probably being eaten alive by a bear or a badger or something. And it’s all my fault. The man rushed outside and ran through the woods, following the sound of screaming until he came across a small clearing. And there was indeed a bear. And a badger, and a wolf. All manner of forest creatures, great and small, carnivorous and herbivorous, sat in the clearing, staring directly at the man, as if awaiting a command. And then the man saw the chipmunk, sitting atop a large tree stump, wearing a crown of sticks and acorns.
And he heard the chipmunk say, “Get him”.
Chapter III
And so the man’s cabin was overtaken by the woodland creatures. The bears bathed in his bathtub, the ospreys baked with his oven, the badgers slept in his bed. The man was forced to cater to their every whim, or be devoured. Meanwhile, the chipmunk, King of the Woods for his knowledge, thirsted for more power. He had read every book in the man’s library, taught all the animals how to be civilized and to obey him, but it was not enough. The King of the Woods wanted immortality. And so he called the man into his throne room, which was once the man’s library.
“I have read your books on biology,” said the King of the Woods. “I know the differences between men and chipmunks. Most importantly, I know you live much longer than we do. Perhaps you had realized this as well. Perhaps you were hoping I wouldn’t learn this until it was too late. Surely you were, or you would not have withheld it from me.”
The man stayed silent.
“It would not do for me to die at the height of my power,” said the King of the Woods. “Don’t think my death will mean your usurpation of my throne, or even your freedom. The woods answer to me, and me alone. Now, I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here.”
The man stayed silent.
“Although you are a human, you are still the smartest creature in the woods. Next to myself, of course. So you must know of a way to make me immortal. Don’t you?”
The man stayed silent.
“Very well. If, by sunset, you do not come to me with a sure method of ensuring my eternal youth, I will have you gored to death by elk. Now, off with you. Already, my fur begins to gray.”
Chapter IV
The man felt sick. All throughout the day, he went about his servants’ duties as though he were in some sort of a dream. Was he really emptying out the boars’ bedpan, or were his arms simply making that motion? How could he be sure the falcons’ fire was hot enough when he himself couldn’t feel anything at all? I’m doomed, he thought. No man can create immortality, it’s impossible. I wish I’d never brought that chipmunk home. I wish I’d never gone into the forest in the first place. I wish I’d never spoken to that horrible tree.
The tree.
He walked into the throne room of the King of the Woods just as the sun was setting. “I thought you would at least try to put up a fight,” said the chipmunk.
The man smiled. “I know how to make you immortal.” And before the chipmunk could say anything, the man turned and walked out of the room. And the King of the Woods was forced to follow.
The man led the chipmunk through the woods. The chipmunk had insisted upon riding an elk, so he could gore the man in case he was lying. Onward they walked, onward and onward until the entire blackness of night was upon them, and still they kept walking. Finally, the man spied the gnarled root he had tripped on before (this time he had had the foresight to light his lantern beforehand), and the ghastly tree to which it was attached.
“Ask what you wish. This tree will grant it,” the man said.
“I’ll not be made a fool of by some gangly tree. You make a wish first, and prove it to me.”
The man thought it best to make a harmless wish, rather than one that could potentially backfire. I could just wish that chipmunk away, but what if it’s not a magic tree after all? What if it doesn’t grant violent wishes? I’d be gored by that elk of his.
“O ugly devil, your powers be true, make the elk’s nose turn a brightish red hue.”
Almost immediately, the elk’s nose began to glow a bright red. So it really is a magic tree, thought the man. He’s going to live forever, and I’m going to be his slave forever.
“It really is a magic tree!” the King of the Woods said excitedly. “Very well then. O ugly devil, of darkness and forest, make me immortal—and murder the florist!”
The man gasped.
Silence.
Nothing.
The man looked around. Was this death? It didn’t seem like it. He appeared to still be in the forest, next to the chipmunk, the elk, and the ancient tree.
“O ugly devil, I’ll try this again. Make my life eternal, and make his life end!”
The man stayed silent and alive.
“If you’re pulling some kind of trick on me, human, I’ll have you gored right now! Elk, gore him!”
But the elk was far too happy with its new nose to gore anyone at the moment.
“Elk, I order you to gore that man to death!”
The elk nuzzled up to the man. It appeared to know the nose was his doing.
“O UGLY DEVIL, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO! KILL BOTH THESE TRAITORS OR I WILL KILL YOU!”
But the tree remained still as ever. Exploding with anger, the chipmunk jumped off the elk and scurried inside the tree’s mouth, where it began furiously tearing out pieces of bark from within it. It kept biting, clawing, gnashing, ripping, tearing, smashing, gnawing, and screaming until the sun began to rise. And one final fit of rage, the King of the Woods emerged from the mouth of the tree, snatched the man’s lantern from out of his hands, screamed
“O UGLY DEVIL WHO HEARS ONLY MEN, IGNORE ME AND I WILL BURN YOU FROM WITHIN!”
and jumped right back into the tree.
It erupted in flame. The pile of dry sticks and leaves the man had so long ago gathered its base finally fulfilled their fiery fate. The great skeletal hand seemed to slightly, ever so slightly, tighten its grip. And the horrible face, the face that stared at you no matter where you were, curled into a smoky grin.
The florist left the woods in the misty dawn, guided by the light of the elk’s glowing red nose. He saw the tree burst into flame, but he didn’t care to see it burn to ashes. As much as he hated the chipmunk, it was still his child. He never returned to his cabin, nor did he return to the little mountain town. And he never raised a child again.
