TELL ME A STORY story

A watchful chipmunk with stripes across his face and down his back has brown eyes peeking from a pointed face.

He is sure the gurgling stream whispers, "Come and have a drink. I am so cold and tasty."

Curious Chips has a thirst that takes him to the stream. Quick choppy hops hurry along.

He crosses a rotting bridge, some of which has collapsed into the stream. There is no danger. He is light as a leaf.

Chips is alone and lost. He really misses his family, and searched for them until his paws ached. Sitting here on his haunches he wonders what to do next.

Wet leaves surround him as Autumn colors cover the ground. His heart is heavy as he stares into the water. A trout darts by. Other fish are more like dark shadows. Their bulging eyes see him and they scoot before Chips can even say, "HELLO."

There is something else in the water. At first it looked like a frog, or a face. Yes. That's it. A face.

It looks like a little boy's face and stares back at him. When Chips was really little his mother warned him to be careful around humans.

The face had dark hair on top and big ears. It looked so sad and serious. "How could that be?" chips wondered. Chips always stood up on his back feet when he was nervous. He did now.

"I can see you," the face said. "Hey, my name is Thomas."

Chips is afraid of humans. But this little boy looked harmless. "What are you doing in the water?" Chips asked.

"I'm lonely and I need a friend," the voice answered.

"Me too," Chips answered.

"You too?"

"Yes," said Chips once again. "I can't find my mother." He looked around. It seemed strange talking to someone in the water."

"No it isn't,” said Thomas. “See. We're doing it."

"It still is kind of funny, don't you think?" Chips asked.

"Not really," answered the face. "I'm speaking to a talking chipmunk. What do you think of that?"

"Is that kind of strange?" Chips asked.

"No. Not if you really want a friend."

"How did you know I wanted a friend?" Chips asked. By now he was bent over and his face was almost touching the water.

"The wind called me as I lay in my bed. Now here I am. Do you want to be my friend?"

"Sure," said Chips.

"Then look into my eyes."

"Alright," Chips said. Then a very weird thing happened. Suddenly Chips was traveling through space. He was a ball of fur heading in an unknown direction.

Sounds came from everywhere. Trees scraped branches. The wind howled. Coyotes barked loudly.

Chips began to tumble through a winding tunnel. Almost like being on a water slide. He kept turning and tossing around. It was scaredy-chipmunk time.

Suddenly he heard a plop as he landed on a pillow. He stretched his paws and looked around.

A little boy sat beside him. He was smiling.

"I knew you would come. I'm Thomas." And the boy lay on his tummy so he could see his new friend better.

"I wished upon a star. I thought that was all make-believe. But you're here. Wowee."

Chips looked around and saw how different everything looked. The room seemed huge, like a large cavern.

A boy's voice and chipmunk chatter soon filled the room.

Thomas told Chips many things, about wearing clothes instead of fur. Eating cooked food instead of grasshoppers or caterpillars.

Even snacks like cookies, and ice cream. Instead of always searching for seeds and nuts. About how the boy played baseball and went swimming.

There were bicycle riding, even going to the park and birthday party stories. But their fun ended suddenly.

Thomas said it was his bedtime. "I'm really tired," he said.

Chips wished they could visit longer. He was just getting to know his new friend. And was so busy listening, he hardly told him any of his own adventures.

They said goodnight and promised to talk again soon. Chips watched as the boy closed his eyes. It seemed like only a moment in time. Then Chips was back beside the stream staring at the water.

Thomas was gone. Poof. Just like that. Was it all a dream?

Chips began making soft noises deep in his throat. It was his way of feeling good. He didn't feel lonely anymore.

He chattered excitedly as he scampered down the trail. Thomas was a name, which remained on his lips. Chips had found a friend. And it would give him strength.

Chips began a new search for his family. This time he knew he would find them. Oh, yes.

* * *

(c) Richard and Esther Provencher 2007

Richard and Esther Provencher invite you to read their first of three novels ‘FOOTPRINTS” now available from www.synergebooks.com. “Someone’s Son” and “Into The Fire” will also be available soon by the same company. These books were written during the first several years while Richard was recovering from his stroke, which felled him in 1999. He is still recovering.

The link to “FOOTPRINTS” is as follows: http://www.synergebooks.com/ebook_footprints.html