Squat The Turtle “ SQUAT THE TURTLE “ BY PAULINE ANNETTE WHITE Once upon a time, there was a little turtle named Squat. He had earned his name because of his short, fat body. When ever Squat went for a walk he had to stop and SQUAT down in the grass to rest. He became tired very easily because he weighed too much. All of Squat’s friends teased him about his round body. They would tell him over and over again that he needed to go on a diet. They also said that as long as they had him with them, they did not need to bring along any balls for their soccer games. Since Squat was not a very good runner or jumper, he could always be their ball. If the day was hot and sunny, everyone could just stand in Squat’s shadow, where it was always shady and cooler. His friends’ jokes were not nice, and sometimes they really hurt Squat’s feelings, but he promised himself that one day his size would not matter. Some day everyone would stop laughing at him. The Turtle Cousins were having a picnic by Misty Lake. Everyone in the area was invited. There would be lots of food, games and prizes, and fun for all. The main event of the day was going to be a foot race. The Grand Prize winner would receive a huge basket of delicious candies, cakes and little pies all baked by Granny Turtle. She had been cooking for three days; making the air smell sweet and delicious. Granny had wrapped all of the goodies in bright colored paper, each one tied with a smooth and silky ribbon. Then she had placed each sweet into a big straw basket. Even Old Grandpa Turtle had decided to make something for the picnic day. He had a golden crown of tin foil for the Grand Prize winner of the big foot race. The fastest animal would get to wear it all day long, telling everyone that he or she was the quickest in the entire town of Misty Falls. On the front of the crown, there was a big number one, painted and sprinkled with sparkles of all colors. Squat knew that he could never, ever win a foot race, so he volunteered to walk around the lake and the edge of the forest every hour to make sure that everything was safe for his friends and family. He would be like a guard, carrying a big stick for protection in case their enemy, Walter Weasel, decided to ruin their picnic. Walter Weasel lived deep in the forest where no one ever went. He lived in a small, smelly hut all alone. Behind the hut, there was a swamp, and quicksand. All of the animals knew that they should never go there for any reason. If Walter Weasel caught you back there, he would eat you up and throw your bones into the quicksand where no one would ever find them. Sometimes, Walter came to the edge of the forest, where the other animals lived. He stayed in the shadow of the trees, watching them as they laughed and played. If one of the smaller animals roamed too far from their family and friends, someone would always see that they were brought back before they reached the edge of the trees. Squat’s little turtle cousins knew all about the weasel and his quicksand trap. Squat made sure that he told them once a week, so that they never forgot. The morning before the picnic, two blue jays were talking about the foot race as they sat in a tree near the weasel’s house. They never worried about Walter catching them because they could so easily fly away if he came too near. Walter Weasel pretended to work in his poor little garden, but he was listening very closely to the birds. They tweeted excitedly about all of the food and the games and prizes. Hopping excitedly from limb to limb, they chirped on and on about the big day ahead. As Walter Weasel listened, he began to smile. A plan was beginning to develop in his nasty little mind. Picnic Day began as a beautiful sunshiny morning. The many flowers by the lake were showing off their lovely colors to each other. Some of them were admiring themselves, bending their limbs down to the water to see their pretty reflections. Squat and his cousins sang and danced as they set up the many tables and chairs for the picnic. Colorful cloths were spread upon the tabletops, giving the area a happy look. There were balloons tied to the trees and bushes near by. They swayed side to side in the breeze. Everyone was in a very fine mood. It was going to be a good day for fun. After he had helped get everything in order, Squat went down to the forest’s entrance. He was very serious about his job. He sat on a near by rock, making sure that he could see everything and everyone from that spot. Walter Weasel was lying in the bushes very close to Squat. He was very quiet. He spent his time counting the all of the little turtles and rabbits and other animals. He llicked his lips once, twice, as he thought of the dinners he would have by nightfall. He had brought along a sack, big enough to hold at least ten animals together. He had a long wait before his plan could begin. The Race was the last thing on the program for the day. Walter laid down in the grass, rolling up his sack, using it as a pillow. He fell asleep instantly, dreaming of turtle soup and rabbit stews. There were some hens and baby chicks, too. That meant fresh eggs for his breakfast. He smiled in his sleep, happy and content. As the weasel slept peacefully, Squat walked around and around the lakeside, checking things. He twirled his big stick, like the policemen he had seen on television. He stuck out his chest, and put on a stern face. He felt important today. Squat looked up in the trees, and down on the ground. He pushed aside bushes, and peeked around the rocks. He just dared that old weasel to come near their picnic area. Why, he’d grab him by the neck and pull him up in front of the entire town. They would all see what a fine policeman Squat would make. He would turn him over to the Sheriff in town, and be a real live hero. The whole town would cheer and clap for him. As he made his rounds again, Squat decided to go a little farther into the clearing. There was a small clump of bushes right at the beginning of the forest entrance, sitting all by themselves. He thought that it would be a very good hiding place for someone who did not want to be seen from the other side of the lake. As he started towards the bushes, his little cousins called to him from the picnic tables. It was time for the Race to begin. All of the contestants were lined up at the starting point. They were all waiting for him. He had the honor of waving the red flag to signal GO!! Squat took one last look at the bushes, deciding to come back and investigate later in the day. Te weasel was not around. That was for sure. He would have given himself away by now. A loud cheer went up as the race began. The noise woke up Walter Weasel with a start. He jumped to his feet-then jumped back down again as he remembered where he was. Hearing running feet, he began to work quickly. He grabbed his sack, opened it up, then moved to the edge of the bushes. He placed a tiny pair of binoculars in his paws, turned in the direction of the sounds, and watched the racers come his way. They were OFF!! Running, running, running- the little animals were all racing for the golden crown and the big basket of goodies. They had to circle the lake twice, then on to the finish line. Squat was yelling and screaming along with the others. As the last of the runners passed him by, he turned back to the bushes by the forest entrance again. There was something about them that was not right. As he walked, he saw a glint of light for just a second in the middle of the bushes. There it was again! And again! A silver light was shining from the middle of the bushes. Winking and blinking over and over. Squat moved faster, walking on his tippy toes. His little cousin Myrtle was in the lead, far ahead of the others. She was running right past the bushes, making the turn back towards the lake when all at once hairy paws darted out and grabbed her by the neck, snatching her right in!! Next came the rabbit twins, Floppy and Hoppy, running neck and neck. As they made the same turn in the bend, they, too were snatched into the bushes by the same paws. One by one, the racing animals disappeared in to the bushes, pulled in by the same hairy paws each time. Only tiny Craggy the Crow was left in the race by the time that Squat reached the bushes. He quickly pushed the bird out of the way, placing his own body in the spot. When the paws came out this time, Squat hit them with his stick-HARD!! Walter Weasel yelled at the top of his lungs. OWWWW!!, he screamed. As the weasel jumped up, Squat pulled his head and feet into his shell. He looked just like a rock that way. When Walter stopped screaming and jumping all around he thought that it was time to go. Someone had hit him on his paws. He grabbed his sack, slinging it over his shoulder, and carefully backed out of the bushes. He looked both ways, but there was nothing around except for a very large rock near the roadside. He had never seen a green rock before, but he had no time to investigate right now. His sack was moving and squealing sounds came from inside of it. He smiled, thinking again of the meals he was going to cook. Yummy!! The other animals had seen everything from the picnic tables. they were so frightened by the sight of the weasel. They did not know what to do. They called Help! Help! Help! the weasel has the children!! Walter Weasel has the children!! Walter grinned at them, showing his long, yellow teeth. He growled once, scaring the animals even more. No one wanted to go after him. They did not want to become one of his prisoners. Someone ran to town, for the Sheriff and his deputies. Mommies cried, and Daddies ran around and around in circles in fright and puzzlement. What can we do??, they said. What in the world can we do now?? Walter Weasel trotted off into the forest, laughing and laughing. This was fun. It served them all right. They never invited him to their parties and picnics, anyway. No one came to visit him. No one ever made him a cake or a pie for his birthday. Well, he would have rabbit stew and turtle soup soon. Ha! Ha! Ha!. Squat heard Walter running away, deeper into the woods. He popped his head out of his shell in the front hole, then his feet popped out of the back hole. As quickly as he could, he went after bad old Walter Weasel. Squat did not have a plan. He was also very frightened. the forest was dark, with many, many trees. Their leaves were hanging down, some almost to the ground. Branches slapped him in the face as he ran after the weasel. Squat was afraid, but he knew that he had to try and save the other animals. They were his friends and family. When he was a baby, his Mommy had read him a story about human children who had left breadcrumbs in the road so that they could find their way back home from a forest just like the one he was running through. He did not have any bread crumbs with him, but he did have some pebbles from the lake shore. He and his friend had been throwing them into the water earlier in the day to see who could throw the farthest. Now, as he moved along, every twenty steps he placed two pebbles side by side on the ground to mark his way back again. After awhile, the air began to smell different to Squat. It was a funny smell, sort of stinky and sort of sweet, too. He stopped for breath next to a large, very old oak tree. there was a clearing in front of him, with trees standing in a wide circle. A hut was in the middle of the circle, a tiny hut with a broken-down door and two dirty windows. There were no curtains at the windows, and one of them had a broken windowpane. Squat wanted to get nearer, to look inside for the animals. All of a sudden, the lop-sided door opened, and out came Walter Weasel with a big sack on his shoulders. The bag was moving, and jumping as if it had a life. Squat heard tiny voices yelling for help. The sound seemed far away, but he knew that it came from the bag. He could recognize some of the squealing voices. His cousin Myrtle was yelling at the top of her lungs. Suddenly, the bag appeared to leap into the air, all by itself. Walter Weasel had a very hard time holding onto it. He almost dropped the sack twice. He managed to grip the top of the bag with his strong paws, then swing it hard against his hut. A loud THWACK!! sound came from the bag, then everything was very quiet. Walter smiled, swung the sack back over his shoulder again, then headed towards the backyard. Squa t be ga n to tiptoe forward, stopping every few feet to listen for the sound of Walter’s feet coming back to the front again. Now, Squat could hear noise from the rear of the hut. Whiny, weepy noises, getting louder and louder as he drew nearer. He crept up to the left side of the hut, stopping again to listen hard. This time, he was sure. There were animals in the weasel’s backyard!! Squat moved along the side of the hut’s wall, to the back. He moved very slowly, very quietly until he reached the end of the wall. He peeked around the side, fast. His head pushed out, then back in again. He was so happy!! They were alive!! In that split second he had seen all of the animals. They appeared to be tied up, their paws wrapped around poles that were stuck into the muddy ground. Some of them were crying. Squat though that it was now or never. He had to make his move soon, or they would all become meat for the weasel’s dinner pot. Walter Weasel was singing. His loud, funny voice carried around the hut, throughout the forest. Squat picked up a big stone. He ran back to the front of the hut, threw the stone into the window that was not broken, and waited for the CRASH! He stood very still, listening. When the weasel stopped his singing, Squat waited for the sound of running feet. In a second, he heard the weasel coming to the front of the hut on the right side. Squat stood at the end of the wall, his stick raised high in the air. When Walter Weasel came around the hut, Squat hit him on top of his head with the stick, and the weasel went down, hitting the ground with a loud THUD!! Squat hit him in his head again, one more time. The weasel closed his eyes, and did not move. Moving faster than he ever had before, Squat ran to the back where his friends and family were tied up. He almost went into the quicksand waiting on the edge of the ground, right behind the captured animals. All of the animals were there. they had rags stuffed into their mouths, but they were alright. Everyone tried to talk at once, but they only made a MMM-MMM sound. Squat said, “ Shhh! Be quiet. As soon as you are loose, run as fast as you can for the front of the hut. There is an old tree straight in front of it. Go past the tree, and follow the trail of pebbles on the ground that are side by side. They will lead you right out of the forest, and home.” There was an old wooden table, with a hunting knife on it. Taking it up, Squat soon had all of the animals free. Myrtle, his cousin, waited at the edge of the wall for Squat. When he saw her there, Squat signaled with his paws for her to run away, too. She hesitated a moment, then ran towards the old tree. Just as she passed the hut, the weasel woke up!! He sat up, rubbing the front of his head, where a big knot had appeared. then, he jumped to his feet quickly, going around the side of the hut to the backyard. There was no one there. The ropes and poles were all on the ground. Walter Weasel yelled at the top of his voice. NOOO!!! Squat had been hiding behind an old oil barrel. While the weasel was screaming, he made his move. Running as fast as he could, he tried to get to the front, and freedom. Walter heard him running, and he turned in his direction. “Stop!!”. he hollered. “Come back here. Where are my dinners?” Squat kept going, but his heavy body would not move fast enough. Poor little Squat. The weasel pounced on him, knocking him down to the ground. The two animals fought and fought, rolling all around in the dirty grass. They punched and kicked at each other for a very long time. The weasel was much bigger and stronger than the turtle. Squat was losing the fight. He realized that there was only one thing left for him to do. So, he did it! Walter Weasel was starting to get tired. He was bigger than Squat, and he was also a dirty fighter. He was trying to bite the turtle, and poke him in the eyes, but Squat was too fast for that. Walter decided to choke him around his neck with his two paws. Reaching out for Squat’s neck, he raised both paws and reached out to ...........nothing!! The turtles head was GONE. A second later, the shell dropped to the ground with a clatter. Now, his feet had disappeared, too. Walter grabbed the shell in both paws, lifting it up. He was tired. He leaned against the wall, breathing hard. Inside his shell, Squat thought and thought about the mess he was in. He would never see his family and friends again. The weasel would certainly throw him into the quicksand, if he couldn’t get him out of his shell. Squat began to shake, and roll around inside his shell. Walter was shaking the shell up and down, trying to make Squat fall out. Squat held on with all of his might, planting his feet firmly on the sides of the shell’s rounded walls. He felt like he was on a ride at the Country Fair, the Loop ‘d’ Loop. or the Whirl-a-Gig. He closed his eyes because he was getting very dizzy. Finally, the motion stopped. Walter Weasel placed the shell on the ground, again. Squat heard him walk away, then back again. All of a sudden the entire shell ROCKED !!! Walter was hitting the top with something very hard. His stick!! Squat had forgotten all about it in the excitement. It had fallen onto the ground, right near the edge of the quicksand. BOINGG!! BOINGG!! The shell vibrated, making Squat quiver like a vanilla milkshake. He hoped that the weasel would give up soon because he was beginning to get very sick in his tummy. All of the burgers and hotdogs he had eaten at the picnic were dancing around inside of him. OHHH. He felt very bad. Squat’s wish came true, because Walter stopped hitting the shell all at once. If only he wasn’t so very FAT, he could have gotten away with his cousins and friends. they surely had reached the other townsfolk by now. they would be bringing help any minute now. All he had to do was hold on tight, and wait things out. the weasel was getting very angry. he could hear him moving around outside, talking to himself in a low and mean voice. Walter Weasel was indeed very angry. All of his little breakfasts, lunches, and dinners had run away. The biggest dinner of them all was right here with him, and he could not get him out of the shell. He had planned for two days, and now it had been all for nothing. He had them all here, right in his paws, until the chubby one had come along to save them. He had ruined everything. Just everything. Well, he’d fix him! The little ones were so tender and sweet to eat. This big one was much too old and fat to make a good dinner. Walter thought and thought, looking down at the shell that he could not open. He spied the quicksand behind him, by the edge of the grassy land. “ That’s it”, he cried out loud. “ I know what to do with this nosy, fat turtle. No one will ever find him where I am going to put him.” Grinning evilly, he again picked up the shell and began walking towards the murky, bubbling quicksand. Squat heard Walter Weasel’s remark. It only took him a moment to understand what was happening. He had to do something; anything... and QUICKLY!! Squat began to rock inside of his shell; slowly at first, then faster and faster until Walter could hardly hold it in his paws. Walter dropped the shell on the ground. It bounced twice, then rolled away, out of his reach. It stopped right at the rim of the quicksand. Peering out from his front hole, Squat could see his stick lying, forgotten in the grass. As quick as a wink, he reached out and grabbed it, pulling the branch into the shell with him. As Walter came forward, Squat popped his body out of the shell, head and feet. Seeing him, Walter Weasel let out a yell of anger and ran forward to grab the turtle. Squat allowed him to pick his shell up in the air, but, just as Walter’s paw stretched out to grab Squat’s neck, the little turtle quickly pulled out the big stick and hit the weasel right between the eyes BAM! BAM! BAM! Three times, Squat hit him until he let go of the shell he was holding. for the second time, Squat fell to the ground. this time, his head was outside of the shell, and it hit the hard earth. He let out a cry of pain. He saw stars in front of his eyes, as he rubbed his head gingerly. A small knot was beginning to grow already. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his thoughts straight. When he opened them up again, he knew just how he would get away from Walter Weasel. The weasel was not as fortunate as Squat. The turtle only had a little bump on his head, but the weasel was hurting all over his body. The blows that Squat had put on his head, plus their fight earlier, and the many times he had fallen on the ground were all causing aches and pains everywhere. He was so dizzy that he was turning around in circles. He spun around and around, closer and closer to the quicksand. Squat saw that Walter was not able to open his eyes without pain. He could see that the weasel’s face was all scrunched up, and he was holding his head where the stick had hit him over and over again. There were bumps of all sizes on the weasel’s head. Squat used his brains. He wanted to see his family and friends again. Squat called out to the weasel. “Walter, come and get me, Walter. Here I am Walter, over here.”, he cried. Walter turned at the sound of the turtles voice. He still kept his eyes closed. Each time that he tried to open them up, the pain in his head became worse. Following the sound of Squat’s voice, the weasel walked in that direction. He was very confused, and still dizzy. Squat stopped calling out, and Walter stopped walking. All at once, he felt hands on his back, pushing him hard straight ahead. He felt himself falling, falling down into muddy waters. Too late, he realized that he had landed in the quicksand behind his hut. Going down once, twice, three times, the weasel kept stretching his paw up in the air. Reaching for anything to grab onto, the paw waved around and around until it ,too, went under the muddy waters, never coming up again. As Squat watched him from the grass’ edge, he thought about how the weasel’s paw looked as it stretched upwards. It reminded Squat of how the same paw had reached out of the bushes earlier in the day, grabbing all of his friends and family. As Squat walked home, he was met on the way by the entire town, all coming to help him. They had weapons; and the Sheriff and his deputies were leading the way, along with his cousin Myrtle. When they saw Squat, they all let out a cheer. Hurray!! the hero is O.K! Hurray! the hero is O.K! Squat was surprised to hear them all calling him a “HERO”. Grandma Turtle came forward, carrying the basket of goodies for the winner of the race earlier. She put the giant basket into Squat’s hands, making the crowd yell and shout again. Not to be left out, Grandpa Turtle also came to the front of the line of animals. He held the beautiful golden crown in his hands. He placed it upon Squat’s head, smiling. The number one sign sparkled and gleamed in the sunlight. Squat had finally proved that his size made no difference. He had saved the day, gotten rid of the bad old weasel, and was now a genuine hero. It really didn’t matter how large your body was, only how large your heart . THE END
Copyright © 2002 Pauline A White |