LITR 3731: Creative Writing
Student Fiction Submission 2003

Robert Andresakis

White Farm: The Adventures of Ferris

Part 1

Merick Farm Barn: 4:45 AM  

“Ok Rumm. Tell me what’s going on.” The sleek graying coat of a donkey shifted in a stall. His slow voice whispered into the quiet night. A small head cautiously poked through a stack of hay near the stall. Two red dots blinked rapidly.

 “Is it clear?” Rumm’s voice squeaked like a mouse.

 George sighed, “Yes you cock-eyed weasel, its 4:30 in the morning of course its clear! Why did you want to meet? And make it quick.”

Rummy the weasel pulled his long body from the hay and approached the aged donkey. His voice deepened some, “Well George, We have a… umm… a… situation.”

“What now?” Four graying feet shifted in the dirt; the weight rocked from one foot to the other.

“You know the animals… the ones in the woods… you know, the ones that this farm has been associating with for the last, um 20 years. You remember…the ones that your daddy has had all the dealings with.” The weasel paced back and forth carving tiny trails in the dirt with his tail. His hands clenched tightly behind his back.

“Go on Rumm.”

“Ben Wolf is on the move. Just got it down from the M.I.A…”

“M.I.A?”

The weasel shook his head in disbelief, “Mouse Intelligence Agency”. Rumm emphasized the acronym.

After a pause, George wiggled his ears, “Ohhh… ok”

“Anyway, M.I.A. has information suggesting that Ben is on the move, and it will be big.”

“How big?” The donkey’s weight shifted again.

“This is farm shaking big. M.I.A. thinks that he will try to attack three distinct targets on the farm simultaneously.”

“What are the targets?”

“The duck ponds, the rabbit burrow and, well, your pasture tree.”

“Hmm, they can’t touch my tree.” George bent down and nibbled some hay.”

“What should we do?”

A long pause filled the barn. George munched old hay while Rummy paced a deeper furrow into the ground.

Finally, George spoke; his deep southern drawl echoed through the stall, “Nothing, well, almost nothing. Foil the raid on my tree. I can’t have that wolf messing up my resting place. Besides, if the wolf and his packs attack the farm it would bring the farm animals closer to me, then I can be greater than my father.”

“Nothing, George? That means we will lose ducks and rabbits. Surely George you can’t expect to lead people after the wolves attack.” Rumm paused, “At least the rabbits need to be saved. They are your soldiers, for farmer sake!” The weasel squeaked in a high-pitched voice. George grinned in amusement.

“Fine, Fine…. There is a burrow in the south end that the rabbits are rebuilding right?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Fine, Fine, that’s just perfect. Your precious rabbits will be saved. Now it’s late Rumm, I will deal with this later. Just keep it to yourself. This is classified.”

“Ok George. If you think this is wise.” The weasel dove back into the hay bale and disappeared with only a small rustle and the thoughts of conspiracy bouncing in his mind.

Merick East Pasture: 6:00 AM.

The sun peaked shyly on the farm. George and a pure silver donkey stood closely side by side munching the sweet leaks of grass. George grinned at the other donkey, much in the same way a cat grins at a mouse before the fatal pounce.

 “Daddy, daddy, I got some news for you. Hee haw, it’s a butte!”

The silvered donkey replied with disinterest, “What’s that son?”

George stammered in excitement and tried to speak. The words jumbled, and instead he made sounds similar to a bullfrog.

“Calm down George and breathe.”

George took a deep breath and in one quick exhaling rush blurted out, “The wolf’s gonna attack, the wolf’s gonna attack!”

Calmly the aged Senior raised his head and smiled, “I know son.”

“How did you know?” George looked dumbfounded and confused.

Senior raised an eyebrow, “Hello numbskull. Head of the M.I.A.”

“Oh…What’s M.I.A.?”

Senior shook his head, “Oh George, sometimes I wonder if you’re my blood. M.I.A. is the Mouse Intelligence Agency.”

“Oh….oh yea!” George plucked more grass. His teeth slowly ground the tender shoots. After he swallowed, he raised his head and asked, “What else do you know?”

“ I know that you will sit on this information and not tell anyone about it. I know that you will let the wolf attack, and I know that after the wolf attacks you will be tough; you will be aggressive; you will call for retribution. And, maybe… just maybe… we can expand the farm and protect our children’s children.”

“What about the ferret pa? He always has a way of sniffing out the news. Just look at what happen to the farms last leader- the rooster… the cock.”

“You can deal with the ferret, George. He is a lightweight in the news industry. He just got lucky with the rooster.”

“Okay dokey pop.” A curious look came across George’s face, “Pop, why will uniting the farm expand the farm?”

The old donkey shook his head slowly, “George, George, George, this has got to be your momma’s fault. Do you remember your history?”

“Course pop.” George proudly held his head up, “I met with the weasel last night. Then the night before I ate some sweet oats that appeared by the grace of the farmer. And then I …”

“Okay George… further back than that. Damn boy, remember the great war with the Kraus Farm?”

Confusion glazed over George’s eyes like milk in crystal clear water. “Ummm Kraus Farm, was that the war where we sent the rabbits to stop the spread of the evil slant eyed red cult.”

“Um no.” the elder shook his head slowly. “Your stupidity amazes me.”

“Thank you, pop.” George’s head bent down to chew the tender leeks. As quickly as it went down his head snapped back up, “Hey pop, that’s not funny!”

“The Great War allowed us to expand this farm’s influence, numbskull. We became more prosperous. This war will allow us to do the same, if we play our cards right. If we play our cards right, and the great farmer above hears our prayers, we might be able to make our country a little bigger than what it is now. The success of our children depends on expansion George. It would be best if you remembered that. Besides that, it is a win-win situation. Even if we cannot expand, our country will be able to keep Ben from attacking our children, or us, in the future. Merickans will be safe, until the next Ben rises up. But then we will deal with that when it happens.”

George had a far away look on his face, “That’s…grand, pop.” George and his father, Senior, bent down and plucked fresh shoots of grass from the morning ground.

Ferret News Agency- Merick Farm 10:30 AM.

            Ferris sniffed the air. The morning sun burned off the dew, and the bright rays of light warmed the ferret’s cold nose.

 “There’s news to be found,” he said to himself. Stretching his long body across a stone outside of the burrow that served as his headquarters, Ferris stared off into the horizon. The dark dismal forest loomed as a black void in the corner of the farm. It reminded him of his responsibilities. Ferris was a news reporter. News was transmitted the verbally, via the ant, to everyone on the farm. Ferris was in charge of one of the smaller news machines which had been responsible for breaking the last scandal that faced White Barn. Today, however, Ferris sensed a different scandal. It could have been the way the sun bounced off the long ears of the rabbit militia as they did field exercises. Or, it could have been the way the esteemed geese had ruffled their feathers. More than likely, it was the ant-a-gram that had been delivered that very morning.

 “Ferris- storm brewing from woods–stop- Big story in White Barn- stop” The ant said it was unsigned.

Ferris ground his teeth as he verbalized his thoughts to the wind. “It would seem that I will have to rattle the grain stalks a bit and see what falls out.”

Fox News Reporting Headquarters 10:35 AM.

            A sweet voice clucked to a red ant on the desk in the vine covered walls of the Fox Reporting Agency.

“So, Senior wants to talk to Sly? Why?” The ant wiggled its antenna feverishly. After a few minutes, the ant’s mandibles stretched and a monotone raspy voice answered quietly, “I can’t tell you that Harriet. Just tell Sly to meet Senior in the east field.”

“Ok, Margaret, I’ll tell him. Look, I got to go back to work. Give my love to hubby and a hug to the kids. I’ll talk to you later.”

The ant wiggled its limber antennas in rapid motions, and then slowly scurried off. Harriet took a moment to marvel over the technology of the ants as she slowly waddled to the office of the editor-in-chief, Sly Fox.

            “Boss, ever marvel at the ant network? I mean Ma Ant, she is one inventive cookie to come with the ant communication network. I mean these little guys are all over the place, sending messages back and forth. I heard that they’re working on better modes of communication. A new hive of the anternet and a new breed called the microant. They’re supposed to be more reliable and have faster transfer speeds. That’s just unbelievable. Sly can you believe…”

“Harriet!” Sly barked as he looked up slightly annoyed.

“Bawk!” Harriet clucked with agitation, “You don’t have to shout at me Sly. What do you want?”

“Harriet, you came in here. Now, what do YOU want?”

“Oh Sly…Oh yea, my, oh” Harriet blushed slightly, “Good news. That’s why I came in here. Senior wants to see you under the east field tree.”

“Wonder why?”

“Asked that to Margaret, but you know how it is the with leader types. Classified this classified that and can not divulge this and sensitive infor…”

“Harriet. You’re rambling again.” Sly answered with lips pressed in contemplation. “Thank you for bringing me the message Harriet. Summon me an ant please.”

“Okay Sly, will do.” Harriet waddled out of the office.

Merick East Pasture 2:00 pm

The fox’s bushy tail waved in the wind. The east pasture sun warmed the grass and singed the tips of the sweet smelling daisies. A cooling breeze swept the low grass driving tufts of puff weeds into the air. Senior stood patiently under a giant lone oak tree. The boughs of the tree drooped low and formed an umbrella that blocked most of the afternoon sun. What little light did filter through reflected off the smooth silver hair of Senior, which created a shimmering effect kin to a full night sky. Sly slid under the boughs and jumped to a low hanging branch.

“Senior,” Sly bobbed his head and then stretched. A quiet yawn escaped his lips. “Been a while since we last met. How are ya?”

“I am doing well Sly. Farmer has treated me very well.”

“That’s good, very good. Why am I here?”

Senior scratched his head against a low hanging branch, “Right to the point. That is why we get along Sly.”

“I thought it was because I got your son the coverage he needed to get elected.”

“There is that too. But let us not forget that your ratings have just about tripled since his election.”

“Yep, can’t forget that; now why am I here?” Sly coiled around his tail and sat down on his haunches.

“I have a plan to make you the most popular news media on the farm for a long, long time.”

“I’m already the most popular.”

“Ok let us just say that I could give this information to your competitor instead and you would fade into nothing. You would be forced to chase slimy snakes in the ground to get any sort of information for your news. You want that?”

“I’m listening, go on.”

“Understand that what I say from now on can not be repeated.”

“Yea, yea, of course.” Sly yawned again and etched patterns into the tree bark with an extended claw.

“We had lunch today, talked about our families, and the condition of you the media in general. You understand this Sly?”

Sly looked above at the tree limbs and wondered if he could climb to the top, “Yep, been there done that.” Senior glared at Sly. The fox quickly went on “of course Senior go on.”

“Ben Wolf is going to attack the farm in…” Senior looked at the sun filtering through the dense boughs “…about 40 hours.”

Sly sprang to his feet. His tail bristled and he bounced in place. “You’re kidding! Where? Why? How? How many? How often? Tell me everything”

“Why? You cannot print this.”

“GRRRRRRR why do you do this to me. Give me something so delectable and then say I can’t use it… Grrrr that’s just so wrong.”

“You can use it. Just how I tell you to, but I did figure that would get your attention.”

“You bet your grey ass it got my attention. This is news. When are the rabbits mobilizing? Where are they going to counter? What is the status of the Farm? Are we prepared as a community to be attacked?”

“Sure we are prepared… prepared to let it happen.” Senior shifted his weight on his feet. Sly’s mouth hung open.

“WHAT!” the Fox exclaimed, a little louder than he should have.

“Calm down and listen.” Senior yawned as the fox bounded from branch to branch. Finally, Sly rested on the lower branch again.

 “Okay, okay I’m calm. Continue.”

Senior cleared his throat, “My son and I have discussed a plan…”

Sly snapped a twig as he snidely interrupted the silver donkey, “That means you told him what to do.”

Senior swished his tail around, “Either way, Ben Wolf and his packs will attack Merickan soil. They will attack three distinct targets. One of those targets is this tree.”

“What’s the point of attacking this tree?” Sly raised an eye.

“Symbol of defilement.”

“Ahh, guess that would make sense.”

“You can not report any of what I said. However, you can report it before anyone else has the story. You will have first story rights. Have everything you need made up. Have everything organized. Hell, you can have ants on the scene of the duck ponds under some falsely fabricated cover story. I really do not care. But, you can not report that it will happen. You can only report that it did happen. And I can guarantee that you will leave the other reporters in the dust. More importantly though, I want you to rally support for my son. You understand?”

“Support for what?”

“Our invasion, or, should I say retaliation?”

“To what end? Never mind, I can figure it out myself.” Sly paused and noticed a small speck on the ground that moved under a leaf. “Gonna have to let Ma Ant in on this. Not like she does not already know.” Sly pointed down at the ant that shuffled back under the leaf.

“I am sure she already knows. Damn girl is more effective than my M.I.A.”

“Well, she does get to hear every conversation that goes on since people use a tele-ant for their conversations. Hell, I heard that she even has rights to the cell-ant. And, I was told she is making a new breed: some micro-ant. Who knows? This world moves fast enough.”

Senior scratched his head again against the tree once more. “True enough I guess. Well, you have work to do, and I need a nap, so if you would excuse me.” The Fox saluted and jumped off the branch. It would be a long 40 hours filled with lies and confusion.

5pm Sandi’s Burrow.

Ferris slid slowly down the deep burrow of Sandi the snakes’ burrow. It was damp and dark; the cold earth clung to Ferris’s fur. It was no small chore going to see the snake. Most farm animals avoided Sandi; if they were smart. Ferris was a little different. He had a little mongoose blood in him giving him a little wild instinct. At least that is what his mother told him. Ferris froze. A cold chill ran down Ferris’s fur. His hair brushed like a bristled porcupine. His mother may have been right.

“Sandi?” His voice quivered with excitement. “Don’t do this. Don’t make me hurt you.”

A cold hiss, like escaping steam vibrated down the earthen tunnel.

 “Ferrisss ssso goodss to sssseeee you. What bringssss you heresss?”

“You know how it is: putting my ear to the ground, shaking some trees and seeing if any monkeys fall out. You know, being the reporter that I am. Where are you Sandi? Show me those beady red eyes of yours.”

“You dissssapoint me. You comesss to my home, you threatens me; demandssss me.”

“I haven’t threatened you Sandi…. Yet.”

“You bring muscless?

“Didn’t think I needed to really.”

“Sso you aloness?

“Yep, I’m alone”

“Goooddss”

Ferris barely saw it coming. Sandi had buried himself in the lose dirt. A blindingly fast strike barely missed Ferris. The long hypodermic needle like fangs meant for Ferris’ flesh closed on air. The poison would have killed Ferris had he not ducked at the last moment. The ferrets flat body became one with the ground.

“Fasst you are. But I won’t misss again.”

Ferris knew he was right. He did not have room in this cramped tunnel to try to dodge. And Sandi was too fast. He had to think of something quick. Ferris heard the viper’s scales rasping together as Sandi recoiled from the strike. Ferris had to act now. The ferret did what he believed was the only thing he could – he charged the snake. Like a scene out of a kung fu movie, Ferris waited till the last possible second. He watched the strike heading towards him. Sandi struck low and hard intending not to miss the target again. Time slowed. Inch by inch Sandi’s open jaws traveled towards Ferris’s soft flesh. Inch by Inch Ferris ran towards the open maw. Inch by inch, Ferris could smell the rotting stench from the snake’s mouth. On the last inch, Ferris ran up the wall and clung to the ceiling. Sandi missed in that last inch. The snake paused, confused, until Ferris fell from the ceiling pinning the vipers head to the ground. The ferret wrapped his strong jaws around the Sandi. His sharp teeth nestled comfortable between the vipers scales. A silence filed the small tunnel as they waited to see who would act first.

 After Sandi realized that the ferret’s fangs would not end his life immediately, he hissed his mind, “Ssneaky Ferrisss, ssneaky.”

Ferris, his mouth full of snake, did his best to answer, “Tell me what I want to know!”

“I knowsss nothing.”

“Lies!”

“No, no liesss.”

Ferris bit down slightly. His keen incisors slipping effortlessly past the scaly armor.

“No, don’t hurt messss!” Sandi hissed in pain, “me talksss, me talksss”

Ferris eased the pressure, “Talk then.”

“I caught a moussse. This moussse was rambling asss he died. My poison doess that sometimess. Makesss my prey talkss to me. I like to lissten to what they have to talk aboutss. Thisss moussse had a messsage for Rummmy the weassel. Thiss moussse was M.I.A. This moussse, he ssaid that Ben Wolf wass attacking the farm in two dayss. This mouse ssaid that Ben Wolf wass bringing his packss.”

“What else did this mouse say, Sandi? Did this mouse say where he was attacking?”

“That’ss all I knowss”

“Why don’t I believe you Sandi? Tell me all of it.” Ferris bit down. A drop of snake blood oozed into the ferrets jaw.

“Okay, okay. Pleasse don’t hurt me. The moussse ssaid that there were three confimed targetss: the duck pondss, the rabbit burrows, and the easst passture tree.”

Ferris released his bite in favor of a hard paw against the snakes head. “Why would the wolf attack? Why would George not tell the rest of the farm? What would be the point? Unlesss…?”

“Unlesss he wantss the wolf to attack. If I wass leader I wouldss act the hero after the attackss.”

“I can believe that…” Ferris thumped the snake on the head. “… and that is why you’ll never be president. However, you may have a point. If George lets the wolf attack, let the wolf ruffle some feathers, then George can make some resolutions. Tighten his hold on the people. All in the name of protection. Or he could declare war…Brilliant, and devious.”

“Deveiouss yess. Can you get off my head nows?

Ferris thumped Sandi on the head with the other paw, “Nope. I’m not done humiliating you yet. Here is a moral dilemma. What should I do?”

“You sshould get off my head.”

“No silly snake. What should I do about George? I can’t report it if I don’t have proof. The mouse is dead and couldn’t squeal for me. And you, well your credentials are well, a bit low. Tarnished reputation and all.” Ferris stared off in contemplation, “Where is my proof?”

“Only twoss people knows. George and Rummss”

“Rumm won’t say a thing. The weasel isn’t dumb. But George, hmm, George might spill the beans.”

“Yess, sspill the beanss- Now get off my headss”

Ferris leapt towards the entrance and ran as fast as he could. The ferret knew that given a chance the pouting figure of Sandi would bite. Outside, the warm afternoon sun heated the damp venire of dirt from Ferris’s fur. The taste of Sandi’s blood lingered even after the ferrets’ attempts of spitting it out.

Ferris whispered to himself as he trudged to his office, “More questions, more questions. Ok, so, George finds out that Ben Wolf will be attacking the farm. He does nothing to counter the attacks because he wants to do what? What is his end goal besides political rallying of the farm animals? What would Ben’s attacks accomplish? It would make the other animals scared. That’s true enough. Why would Ben attack the farm though? He knows that we would retaliate. And our rabbit army is the biggest in all the farms. Why would he attack? And why now? Why did he wait until George became leader to attack? Why not attack earlier? What would Ben gain? Other than a quick meal… Proof. Proof that he can attack the farm. Proof that his packs can attack at will and cause fear when ever he wants. Also, fear would disrupt the farms output. Chickens couldn’t produce eggs for weeks, if not months after the attacks, the poor ducks, not to mention the cows’ milk production. Then the farmer above will take some of the older animals away. Forcing a new leadership- maybe. Ok Ben attacks to disrupt the farms economy in hopes that it will force a regime change. Now what? His war is over before it really starts. The Merickans will not stand for another attack. The rabbit packs would meticulously guard the farm. So technically, by attacking the farm he is hoping for a one shot wonder. What would George do? Surely not send the rabbits to the Forrest to hunt the wolves. The Merickans would not stand for that. I mean each rabbit has a family, little rabbits and mama rabbits. Not to mention friends and a life in general. Sure the Forrest has a wealth of food and land, but would it be worth the blatant loss of life? There as to be more. After all, this is just speculation. There is no proof, and those that have it wont spill it. Besides, even if I could get George to spill, he is not stupid enough to talk to the public about it. Grrr.” Ferris bounced in frustration. “How! How! How!” Ferris looked around. The wind had picked up and the leaves rustled and blew across the ground. “I have to find a way to trick George. To get him to admit it to an ant… or, maybe not… ant…  Hmm, Ma Ant… Maybe I don’t have to deal with George at all.” Ferris raced off elated. A new plan had formed in his mind.

4:30 am White Barn

            Rumms eyes blinked in the near darkness of the White Barn as he shifted his weight slowly, back and forth, nervously rocking from foot to foot. Heaviness like a thick wool blanket of oppression hug heavy over the stall. George was first to shatter the silence.

His whispers quivered with uncertainty. “So Ferris ferreted out the news?” How could he?”

Rummy was unsure how to answer that question, “I suspect a leak. You where supposed to take care of that problem. Not let it bloom into something that could be leaked.”

George shot back a harsh growl, “I did take care of it.”

“It sure looks like you did. George. Ferris is threatening to run the story in four hours. What are we supposed to do? Nothing again? Are we going to let it happen? That seems to have been you plan before, if I recall correctly. George. This can burn us and burn us bad.”

“No Rumm. This will burn you.” George shot the weasel and chilling stare. “Guess that means that you have 4 hours to make the ferret disappear.”

“You can’t make Ferris disappear. He is a prominent news reporter.”

“I can’t, but you sure as hell better. Besides, reporters have accidents too. Rummy make him have an accident.”

“Whatever you say boss.” growled Rummy scampering off into the night scowling in disgust, “I’ll make another scandal… just for you.”