A Squirrel's Secret

For the child in me; I wrote this story when I was seven for the ‘Young Authors Award’ and ever since, I have always remembered Secret.

I was playing outside with the neighborhood kids when it happened. We were playing a game of tag with the great Oak tree in my front yard being a ‘safe zone’- only if you were touching the tree of course. I had my tiny hand on the tree’s great wide trunk when there was a loud ‘SQUEEEK!’ that sounded above me. I quickly looked up in time to see a blur of brown crash down through the green leaves. The leaves made a fwap-fwap sound as something fell through the branches to the bottom and landed with a light thud on the other side of the tree. Keeping my hand on the tree, I peered around to the other side. The animal was light brown and small in size except it had a big bushy tail. It was hurt and needed help. I knew exactly who to go to- he would know what to do, he always knew. I looked around to see that the other kids had not noticed the commotion under the tree and were off running in the hay field. Knowing that I could make it to my door before they noticed, I ran inside to find my Papa.

“Papa! Papa!” I ran into the living room where he was reading a magazine. “Papa, come outside! There’s an animal and it’s hurt and needs help!” I was hopping up and down with my hands on the arm of his chair. His magazine shook from my excitement.

“An animal, huh?” He slowly closed the magazine and I nodded excitedly. He slowly stood and towered over me. “Let’s go take a look at this animal.” Grabbing his huge hand I led him toward the door. My Papa was a tall man with big hands and a loud voice but I was not afraid. He was gentle and I knew that he would know how to help. I led him outside, down the steps of the porch and over to the great Oak tree. When we rounded to the far side of the tree, which took me many steps to walk but only took Papa three steps, I felt sadness as I noticed that the animal was still laying in the grass where I had first found it.

He knelt down and looked at the pitiful creature. “It’s a squirrel.” His eyes were level with my own.

“A squirrel?” I had never seen one this close before. I knew that squirrels lived in the great Oak tree and made loud noises when you walked by but they were always hidden from my view.

“Yup. It’s a squirrel- a young one too.” He looked up into the tree. “It probably fell out of it’s nest at the top of this tree.” He looked back at the squirrel and watched it’s shallow breathing. “It’s Mother will come down to find it, I’m sure.”

I looked down at the squirrel too. “Can we help it? What if it’s hurt? Do squirrels have doctors?” I looked up at my Papa and he chuckled.

“No, I don’t think they do.” He rubbed his stubble with his hand, thinking.

“Well? Can we keep it Papa?” He sighed. “I’ll help!” I encouraged him. I made my eyes big and clasped my hands together, “Pleaseee, Papa?”

He stood and looked down at me. “No, I don’t think so. Squirrels are wild animals, Honey. They are not meant to be pets.” Papa always called me ‘Honey’, although my name was actually Sarah. If Papa called me Sarah, I knew I was in trouble. ‘Honey’ meant that I still had a chance to convince Papa that we could help the squirrel.

“How will it get better then? We could take care of it until it’s better?” Papa was scratching his stubble again, thinking. “Then we could give it back to it’s Mama. I bet that they would be so thankful that we helped their baby that they would stay out of our roof, Papa.” I smiled a big smile. Papa always complained that the squirrels were scurrying about in our roof.

He chuckled and dropped his hand from his chin. “I don’t know about all of that.” He sighed and shook his head. “Let me get some leather gloves and a box. Don’t touch it before I get back.” I nodded and he walked off to the garage.

By this time, the neighborhood kids had formed a small group and waited for Papa to walk away before they came over. “What’s going on?” asked my best friend Susi. Next to her stood her brother, Johnny, and behind him was a boy that we called Red because his cheeks were always red from the sun. We were all the same age, except Johnny being a year older, and we all lived on the dirt road called Wilson.

“A baby squirrel fell out of the tree.” I looked down and the squirrel was still asleep.

“Wow really?!” All three peered around me down to the squirrel. “It’s so cute!” said Susi.

“What are you going to do with it?” Johnny crossed his arms. “Doesn’t look big enough to eat.”

“Eat?!” Susi and I both yelled. “Who eats squirrels?!”

“A lot of people do.” Johnny said with a shrug.

“Not this one, we’re not.” Thankfully, Papa arrived with a box. He had filled the box with some straw that we had in the barn. We all watched as Papa gently lifted the squirrel into the box. It’s tiny body fit into the palm of one of his hands. Once the squirrel was in the box, he stood. “I figure you kids better go home for the day. Honey is going to be busy taking care of her squirrel.” Everyone nodded and we said our goodbyes.

I followed Papa into the house and he set the box down on the kitchen table. I climbed onto the chair and looked down into the box; the squirrel was asleep in the straw. “Do you think it will be okay?” I asked, worried. I knew nothing about squirrels or how we could help. Papa would though, Papa knew everything.

“Time will tell, Honey. Time tells all.” He gave me a smile. “What do you want for supper?”

“Not the squirrel!” I was worried.

Papa chuckled and nodded. “Not the squirrel.” He peered down into the box. “It’s too small anyway.” He smiled as he walked away to start fixing supper. I looked back down into the box and smiled.

The next week wasn’t much fun. All the squirrel seemed to do was sleep and eat. We fed it milk out of a dropper every couple hours which meant that I couldn’t play. Susi, Johnny and Red came to play every day under the summer sun but Papa said that I had to take care of the squirrel. Despite Johnny saying more than once that I should have eaten the squirrel so that I could come out and play, I ignored him and did not eat the squirrel.

The following weeks were exciting. The squirrel healed quickly and began to grow. We had to buy a bird cage from town to keep the squirrel in because it kept climbing out of the box. I didn’t understand why the squirrel couldn’t run around the house but I suspected that it was because Papa was worried that it would try to live in the roof of our house. Papa was always worried about the squirrels that lived in our roof. When we moved the squirrel into the wired cage, it had jumped in between the sticks that we had wedged inside. Papa watched it jump around and said that the squirrel had been lucky and hadn’t broken any bones. “Poor thing was just bruised. Probably lucky it was so young when it fell, you young ones are full of rubber and bounce when you fall.” When I asked Papa what happened to his rubber bones, he just shook his head and laughed.

The squirrel didn’t need milk now and could eat seeds that we fed the birds outside. Which meant that I was allowed to play with my friends, after I fed and watered the squirrel of course. Everyone wanted to know about the squirrel and I was happy to tell them all about it. How the squirrel had needed so much milk out of what Papa called a dropper to how the squirrel would now perch up on the corner of it’s wire cage and chirp at us. When the squirrel chirped, it’s tail would twitch and cause a ripple to run through the long hair that spread out like a bush.

Night time was my favorite. I would crawl into bed and as Papa read me a story, the squirrel would jump from my bed post to the next and run around the quilt as Papa read. Sometimes the squirrel would perch onto my shoulder against the pillow and snuggle into my hair, where it would quickly fall asleep; it’s hair felt soft and sleek. Other nights, the squirrel would jump from my bedpost to the desk that sat in front of my bedroom window. It would settle onto the window sill and peer out into the great Oak tree that sat just outside. I would fall asleep shortly after and Papa would put the squirrel back into the wire cage. We continued this schedule for the remainder of the summer; when school started in the fall I was excited to tell all of my friends about my summer and the squirrel that had become my friend.

Our teacher wanted us to write about our summer and turn it in the next day. I sat at the desk in front of my window that looked out at the great Oak tree with Papa so that he could help me with the words that I did not know how to spell. The squirrel jumped from my bed post to my desk and back again, messing my papers so that they would fall to the floor. After a while, the squirrel settled on the window ledge and looked out into the tree. A soft “cruck cruck” came softly from the squirrel with a toss of it’s fluffy tail.

On Friday, at the end of the first week of school, Papa picked me up so that we could get ice cream as we did every Friday. As I exited the front door of the school, I waved to Papa who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“Sarah! Hold on, please!” I looked back to see Mrs. Johnson, my teacher, hurrying down the hall toward me. “Is your father picking you up today?” I nodded. Mrs. Johnson grabbed my hand and walked with me down the stairs. “George, how are you today?” Mrs. Johnson and my Papa went to school together when they were younger than me, he had once told me.

Instead of answering, Papa just nodded. “How are you, Kate?”

“George, Sarah wrote the most riveting essay and I want to know; did you really let Sarah bring a wild animal into your home?” Mrs. Johnson’s voice was shrill.

Papa scoffed, “A squirrel, Kate.” He shrugged, “It’s not a raccoon or bobcat.”

“They still carry disease.” Mrs. Johnson hissed. She let go of my hand and crossed her arms. “They are not safe! How do you know that it was not sick?”

Papa shrugged again, “Because it didn’t look sick.”

“Papa!” I chimed in, “It was too sick! That’s why we took care of it.” I smiled.

“No, it wasn’t Sarah.” Papa gave me a stern look. He had called me Sarah. I shrank away.

At that moment Susi and Johnny came running up. “Hey Sarah!” Susi took a deep breath. “How is your squirrel?” We had different classes during school so I hadn’t been able to tell her since last weekend when she and Johnny and Red had come over.

“Oh, it’s doing really go-” I was cut off.

“What?!” Mrs. Johnson looked at us and back at Papa. “You put other children in danger too?!”

Papa took a deep breath and sighed hurriedly. “You know Kate, you may have married a farmer and now live in the country, but sometimes you just can’t take the city out of a girl.” Mrs. Johnson gasped as Papa reached down and took my hand. “You kids had better head home.” Papa turned away, dragging me along, before waiting to hear their collective “Yes, sir.” I jogged to keep up with his long strides.

We skipped ice cream that day and instead listened to the old pickup truck rattle against the dirt road all the way home.

During the weekend, it was as if Friday hadn’t happened. Papa didn’t bring up the conversation with Mrs. Johnson and I still didn’t understand why Papa had called me by my name. I hadn’t lied- the squirrel was sick. I spent the weekend playing outside with Susi, Johnny and Red during the day and Papa read bedtime stories at night. As Papa read, the squirrel would eventually settle on the window sill and stare out into the tree. It would give a soft, “cruck cruck” as Papa read.

At the end of following Monday, Mrs. Johnson asked how my squirrel was. I told her that it was doing good and that we had enjoyed our weekend. She gave a soft smile and dismissed me so that I could catch the bus home.

When the bus stopped in front of our house, I noticed that we had company. There was a shiny black truck parked in the drive next to Papa’s old pickup truck. Papa was a solitary man and did not especially like company, so we did not have visitors often. I ran from the bus toward the front door but stopped short when Papa and a man that I didn’t know came out.

“Thanks for stopping by Dan.” The man turned and shook Papa’s hand, who still stood in the door. “I’ll make sure she understands.” Dan nodded and walked down the steps. “Oh, Dan?” Papa called after the man. The man looked back at Papa. “Make sure to tell Kate that I said ‘Hello.’” Papa gave a quick smile and squinted his eyes.

When the man walked by me he gave a small smile, which almost looked sad. I fixed my grip on my backpack straps. When I reached Papa I asked, “Who was that?”

Papa watched the black truck back out of the drive. When it started down Wilson road toward town he held his hand up in a wave. “Better come inside.” I followed him inside to the kitchen where we sat.

“That was officer Dan.” Papa sighed and clasped his hands together on the table.

“He didn’t look like a Police officer.” I said as I climbed into the chair across from him. “Where was his Police Badge?” I sat and settled into the chair.

Papa looked at the ceiling and seemed to think about his words. “Officer Dan is not a Police officer. Not exactly.” Papa shifted and looked at me. “Dan is part of a division called DNR. Do you know what that is?”

I shook my head. “No, Papa.”

“DNR stands for Department of Natural Resources. Which means,” Papa sighed and took a moment to continue, “That they conserve and protect wild animals.”

“Well that’s good, right?” I didn’t understand why Papa’s voice was so somber.

“It is good, Honey. They stop a lot of bad people from hurting animals.” Papa’s thumbs pressed against each other, making the tips turn red. “But it also means that they want wild animals to stay in the wild, where they belong.”

Panic rushed through me. “Did they take my squirrel?!” I turned quickly to look into the other room where the wire cage was.

“No, no. The squirrel is still here.” I turned back to Papa. He was squinting his eyes a bit. “Officer Dan did not take the squirrel.”

I thought for a moment, watching Papas thumbs loosen and then press back against each other again. “Am I in trouble?” I looked up, worried.

“No, Honey. You did a good thing helping the squirrel.” Papa sighed. “But Officer Dan came over to remind us that squirrels are wild animals and are protected by the law. He wants you to do the right thing.” My eyebrows pressed together and I stared at the table. I wasn’t sure what Papa was saying. “Honey,” Papa reached his hand out across the table. I reached up and held his hand. His hand swallowed mine, “Don’t you think it’s time the squirrel went back home?” Papa’s voice was soft.

“Oh.” I looked down and withdrew my hand from his. I dropped it into my lap and looked at the palm of my hands, intertwining my fingers. I looked up and could feel tears brimming my eyelids. “Do we have to? I think it likes it here.”

Papa nodded. “We do. I think the squirrel likes our home too, but it’s not the squirrel’s home. Have you noticed the squirrel likes to look at the oak tree outside when we read?” I nodded. “That’s because it’s family is out there. It can hear and see them and the squirrel knows that the oak tree is where it belongs.” I nodded again. I was sad and the tears started to fall. “Come here, Honey.” I crawled over into Papa’s lap and he rocked me until the tears stopped.

“Will I ever see it again?” I looked up at Papa's face.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Of course you will. It will live right out there in the Oak tree.”

“Okay. When do we have to let it go?”

“When do you want to? Today?” I shook my head quickly. “Alright then. We will do it tomorrow morning. We’ll have one more night to read with the squirrel.” Papa smiled and I smiled back.

That night, as Papa read, I noticed the squirrel didn’t run around the room as much as it once did and instead settled on the window sill immediately. As it looked out into the tree it would whisper “cruck cruck” and twitch it’s tail. When I asked Papa why it did that, he said that the squirrel was talking to it’s family out in the tree. For some reason that made me sad.

When I woke in the morning, I quietly crept down the stairs. The squirrel was up and eating birdseed out of the dish at the bottom of the cage. I watched for a moment before I left the bottom stair and went to eat breakfast in the kitchen.

When I was done eating and my milk glass was empty, I stared out the window at the great Oak tree. Papa set his coffee cup down. “It’s about that time, isn’t it?” I nodded slowly. Papa lifted his cup to his lips and took a long sip. He set the cup down and sighed. “I’ll get the cage then.”

We walked out into the yard, me in my pjs and bare feet and Papa carrying the wire cage. We settled under the tree. “I’ll let you open the door, when you’re ready.” He said.

I looked up into the tree. “Will it have food? There doesn’t seem to be any bird seeds up there.” I looked at Papa and found that he was looking up too.

He nodded, “It’ll find food. But we can put up a bird feed under the tree, if you’d like.” I nodded.

With a jagged breath I held the handle to the door. The squirrel was running about the wire cage excitedly. I pulled the door down and the squirrel ran out. It looked up into the tree and made a couple “cruck cruck”s before it began to climb the great Oak tree’s trunk. Halfway up, the squirrel stopped and looked back down at us. It gave a final “cruck cruck” and a flick of it’s tail before it continued to climbed the great oak tree until it was out of sight.

“I believe it just thanked you, Honey.” Papa was smiling at me.

I shook my head. “It thanked us, Papa.” Papa nodded and gathered up the cage. He went back inside; I sat under the tree until the sun was high in the sky and then when it started to climb back down. Papa called me inside for dinner and when we were done night had begun to fall. The next day we put a bird feeder under the oak tree and the squirrel jumped onto the feeder to eat. I ran out the front door to visit with it but the squirrel jumped back into the tree to hide. I didn’t understand.

Months passed and when the winter snow began to fly and there were no leaves on the Oak tree to hide the squirrel any longer, I asked Papa why I did not see the squirrel sitting on a branch in the tree. He said that the squirrels were sleeping for the winter and we would see them again in the spring.

Spring came and as the tree grew leaves, I could no longer see up into the branches to search for the squirrel. I would still see the squirrel eat the birdseed but when I would run outside to visit, the squirrel ran away as if we had never known each other.

When I asked Papa about it, he looked up and seemed to choose his words carefully. “If the squirrel let you pet its fur, the other squirrels would think that it smelled like a human and may not be nice to it. It’s best not to try to touch the squirrel but instead watch it from afar. Think of your friendship as a secret, special for just the two of you.” The next time I saw the squirrel, I did not rush out the door, but instead I quietly opened the front door and sat on the steps. The squirrel did not seem to mind me watching and did not hurry up the tree. Although it did not come over to me, I still enjoyed watching it.

One day I looked out my bedroom window and was met with a surprise. “Papa! Papa!” I ran to my bedroom door. “Papa, come here! There’s something different in the tree!” I ran to my desk and climbed into the chair. I could hear Papa climb the stairs as I pressed my hands on the surface of the desk and leaned toward the window.

“What is it?” Papa asked as he entered the room. He leaned over me and looked out the window. “Well would you look at that.” Papa smiled.

“What is it Papa?” I searched his face for an answer.

“That is a squirrel's nest, Honey. Your squirrel’s nest.” Papa smiled down at me. “It looks like your squirrel remembered you after all. It built a nest for it’s family right outside of your bedroom window.” We both smiled as the squirrel poked its head out of the nest to find us watching. It stayed still for a moment before it went back into the clump of leaves.

“Papa?” Papa hummed in response, “I don’t think the squirrels will live in our roof anymore.” I smiled at Papa and he smiled back at me.

For many years to come, there was always a nest full of squirrels in the spring that could be seen from inside the window. Every now and then an old brown squirrel with gray around it’s whiskers would perch on the nearest branch to the window. It would seemingly peer into the glass and a soft “cruck cruck” could be heard.