PRIZE PIES

for all the young hoppers i've known, particularly the human ones. Carl A Smith   Back to Writer's Gallery

Reggie was a hopper. Reggie had soft brownish gray hair and he looked like a little bundle of fur when he crouched down in the grass - that is, when you could see him hiding in the grass. His ears were long and pointed, a bit floppy and velvety to the touch. His nose, sided by long whiskers, was small, black and always twitching. His most noticeable features were his two hind feet which were almost as long as he was tall. With these feet Reggie could easily jump the length of an evening shadow, leap over a dead fall, or twist and turn his way through the meadow. When he saw something dangerous like a hawk, a fox or a human he would thump a foot down loudly to warn the other hoppers, then freeze in place until the danger passed. In the winter, where other animals floundered in deep snow, Reggie's large feet easily topped the drifts. Yes, all in all, Reggie's best feature was his feet. Of course, being a human, you probably know hoppers by another name - wild rabbits.

Reggie lived with his grandparents in a cozy burrow out past Big Field. Reggie was living there while his parents were off fighting in the Swamp Gas War. This was all right with Reggie because he liked the way his grandparents lived. Back home in Green Park his parents owned a two-tunnel den in a hopper warren near the duck pond. For dinners Mom generally popped a Pre-Picked veggie in the solar, or Pop loped down to Big Jack's Hop-Thru for some Quick Nibbles. Burrow cleaning was done quickly using a MaidMouse and trash was put into the PackRat. Like many rabbits of their generation Reggie's parents had left the farm fields for the city suburbs long before Reggie was born. Here at his grandparents Reggie lived and breathed country. He chopped twigs for the stove, cut fresh grass stems, dug tubers, gathered vegetables, picked berries, fed the stove, washed clayware, and swept the tunnels.

It was two Moons past Longest-Day. Reggie and Grandpa were picking blueberries when Reggie heard the Black Crow News, "Craw, Craw, Craw. Pie Contest at Maple Creek Corners. Mid-Quarter-Day at Sun-Arced-High. Craw, Craw.". Popping two more berries in his basket and one in his mouth, Reggie thought about his Grandma's pies. Flaky crusts wrapped around sweet blueberries and hot from the oven, they were the perfect size to fill a hopper's paw and a bunny's appetite. Surely there were no better pies anywhere.

"Now if Grandma's pies were entered in that contest tomorrow ... ", Reggie picked and munched his way through his thoughts, "I know her pies will win.", pick, munch, pick, "The rules say to bring twelve pies, but there will be only three judges ... ", munch, pick, munch, "That will leave nine pies for us. Who says you can't have your pies and eat them too? Who says?".

The next morning Reggie arose, shook bed moss from his fur, brushed his whiskers with a wet paw and headed for the kitchen. Reggie's long ears picked out the words to Grandma's baking song,
 

Heat the oven till it's hot.  Water sizzles upon the top.  Slide the trays in deep.  Watch over the heat.  That's how you make a pie.  That's how you bake a pie.	Roll the dough out thin.  Spread the berries thick.  Roll it, fold it, crimp it.  Cut the edges neat.  That's how you make a pie.  That's how you bake a pie.
And when it's ...     ...  ... wet the ...     ...  That's how you bake a pie.  That's how ...	The clock sand runs downhill.  So fill it ...      ...     ...  ... t's how you make a pie.  That's how you bake a pie.

and his twitching nose drew in the pleasing odors of fresh baked pie. On the cooling shelf Reggiesaw that yesterday's blueberries had become succulent tasty pies. Looking everywhere but at the shelf he chewed down breakfast and retreated to the foyer for a game of hop-hop. When Grandma finally left room he dashed into the kitchen, scooped the pies into a hamper, bolted out the door and scampered down the hedgerow.

Keeping one eye peeled for hawks and owls Reggie hopped briskly along. Grandma's angry foot thumps had faded with distance and now from the Maple Creek Corners came the yipping voice of the coyote barker, "It's time. It's time. Time for the rodent race to begin. Hurry. Hurry. Almost time for the pie contest. Hurry. Hurry. The worm pull is soon to follow. It's time ... "

At the entrance booth Reggie payed out two parsnips, pocketing his three acorns change. Zigzagging the crowd he reached the pie table where, white tail up and pointed ears forward, Delilah Deer supervised, "Well, young hopper, you almost missed the contest start. Put your pies on the table with the others." At the far end the judges, Rex Raccoon, Samantha Squirrel and Omehian Opossum, had already begun. Reggie's heart was pounding. The judges moved slowly along - looking, smelling, tasting each entry one by one by one. Reggie could hardly keep from thumping his feet excitedly when they finally reached grandma's blueberry pies. "Hmm." "Yes." "Good.", he heard them say before they continued tasting their way down the table.

Conferring for what seemed like forever, the three judges moved back up the table re-sampling five or six pies including Grandma's. Again Rex, Samantha and Omehian talked, and finally began to distribute the prizes. What Reggie couldn't understand was why it took them so long to realize that Grandma's pies were the best. Stepping forward he proudly held up the First Place Crystal Rock for all to see and exclaimed, "See, Grandma's First Rock! Boy, is she going to be surprised! All right, all right!", for all to hear.

But when Reggie began to gather up the remaining ps Delihah Deer stopped him, "A moment, young hopper. The rules state extra pies go to the judges for their services. I'm afraid you'll have to leave those pies. I mean did you really think you could have your prize and eat them too?"

Last Words

I value your thoughts.

Carl A Smith
Spring `98
 

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