← Little Stories for Tiny People: Anytime and bedtime stories for kids
Little Stories for Tiny People: Anytime and bedtime stories for kids
Emmaline Rabbit's Day Out: A Bedtime Story for Kids
00:26:12
A Story for Kids
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Transcript35 lines
- [00:09]
A
This is Rhea. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People. I am pleased to say I have a special guest joining me in my tiny studio for our story today. He should be here in just a. Oh, that must be him.
- [00:27]
B
Hello.
- [00:28]
A
Good morning. Well, actually, I guess it's afternoon. Time flies, am I right? Yes, do come in. Sure. You can sit anywhere, really. Oh, not there, though. I try not to put anything on that stack of antique international newspapers. But anywhere else. Yeah, that pillow is fine, but just beware. It's a little prickly. Sorry, I should have told you about that in advance. It's good for guests who have trouble staying awake. But if that's not a problem for you, then. Oh, there. Yes, that. That card table is perfect. Just try not to move my solitaire game. No, that's fine. I was losing anyway. Well, everyone, please welcome my guest, Ducklyn. Oops. I mean Declan. It's Declan, right? He's a duck. So sorry about that. You must get that all the time, though. No, just me. Okay. My apologies. Are you ready for the story, Declan? Excellent. I think we're all ready. Let's hear it. It's called Emmaline Rabbit's Day Out. Take it away, Grace.
- [01:47]
B
Remember, there are no pictures. You have to imagine the pictures in your mind. You can imagine them however you want. Okay, let's go.
- [02:02]
A
Emmaline Rabbit could not for the life of her remember where she'd put her hat. She could picture it vividly on the hook by the door when she left to forage at dawn, then later reflected back at her murkily resembling a clump of green moss atop her head in the glass like puddle halfway down the trail to the river. She had to have worn it home, set it down somewhere before the nap she'd taken in the armchair by the hearth. But she hadn't a clue where. I must get a move on, she muttered quietly. Shifting around her underground home so as not to wake Rutherford and the children, she checked and rechecked unlikely and unlikelier places for her hat to be under the rocking chair. A bunny would have had to place it there as part of a silly game. Emmaline speculated doubtfully. A certain bunny came to mind then, as she searched behind the umbrella holder. It would have been Dash who took my hat. That little rascal. The thought came to her with no shortage of love nor small measure of amusement. Her youngest son was the likeliest suspect of any such trivial crime. He never intended to cause distress to his mother. It was simply a frequent byproduct of his richly imagined, hastily developed plans. Once Midway into cooking a root vegetable stew in the heart of Winter, the Emmaline reached for the salt shaker, only to find it empty, save for a thin dusting of fine crystals. But she had filled it only yesterday, having gone all the way to the west end of the forest, and traded three whole jars of pickled onions in exchange for a small sack of salt shipped on the back of a turtle from the faraway sea. At length she'd found it sprinkled, well, more like, generously poured over an elaborate miniature winter village erected on the floor by the hearth, constructed of pinecones, stones, twigs, and patches of moss. The whole scene, cleverly patterned, humorously arranged, had Dash written all over it, right down to the sled made from a bay leaf. The next time Dash had passed through the kitchen, Emmaline had muttered quietly, so quietly, as if to herself, I wonder, yes, I wonder who used up all that precious salt. She had watched as Dash's ears had stood on end, watched as his shoulders tensed and his tail twitched. Dash, she said suddenly, startling him, so he hopped in place.
- [05:53]
B
Yes, Mummy?
- [05:54]
A
Did you happen to see who used up all the salt for that little winter village over there? Um, you know what? Emmaline said thoughtfully, putting a paw to her chin. It must have been Polly. I'll have to have a talk with her. Dash's eyes went wide. What do you think is an appropriate consequence for her?
- [06:25]
B
Any ideas, Dash?
- [06:28]
A
His shoulders began to quiver, then his eyes rapidly filled with tears, and he
- [06:35]
B
said, it was me, Mummy. I used up all the salt.
- [06:40]
A
I thought it would make nice snow.
- [06:42]
B
Mummy. Don't blame Polly. She had nothing to do with it.
- [06:46]
A
After gathering him up in her paws and wiping away his hot tears. Oh, come now, we'll make it right. Emmaline had him spend the following hour painstakingly scooping the precious white grains from the ground, shaking them through a sieve, and returning them to the carton from where they'd come. Polly wandered in at one point as he worked. She was his littlest sister and often trailed behind him through the warren, taking in all he did with her enormous brown eyes. Emmaline heard Dash tell her, now, Polly,
- [07:37]
B
this salt is very precious, so I'm making sure to get every grain back in the bottle. Oh, okay. Can I help? Only if you're very careful.
- [07:52]
A
The hat was not in any of Dash's usual hiding spots. At one point, Emmaline saw the very same green of her hat peeking out from beneath the closet door, but when she opened it, the green turned out to be Lankester's winter scarf. Fallen from a hanger. Her hat was nowhere to be found. Emmaline recalled Marigold's warning from yesterday.
- [08:28]
B
Old Mr. Crow said it would be blindingly sunny tomorrow. Make sure to wear a hat, and a wide, brimmed one at that. I can't have anybody struck with heat stroke on my watch. Since you insist on coming to help, the least I can do is keep you from fainting while you're at it.
- [08:49]
A
Amaryllis might know where it is, emmaline whispered, thinking of her eldest daughter, who seemed to track every coming and going, every detail, every event, no matter how trifling that took place inside the warren. But Amaryllis was asleep, along with everyone else. Emmaline chided herself for even thinking of stealing her daughter's sleep for small oh, where could it be? The thought of that blazing sun in her sensitive blue eyes threatened to make them water. But just behind that thought was another of Marigold, who had so many things to worry about already tapping her foot, scrunching up her squirrelish nose, wondering where her usually punctual friend could be on such an important day, perhaps even worrying about Emmaline imagining something terrible had befallen her. These unacceptable images pushed Emmaline out the door into the morning forest. Thankfully, it was cloudy. Huh. Old Mr. Crow had it wrong. Emmeline hopped along the brambly trail through thick trees. It was early spring, but the shrubs and ferns were already dense with green. The air was alive with butterflies and birds flitting here and there with purpose. Tightly closed flower buds dotted the branches, promising to open in bursts of fresh colour in the coming days. Not that Emmaline was likely to see them. It was unusual for her to take this trail. Unusual for her to be out at this hour, too. On any other day after foraging at dawn, she'd have been in bed for the sun, baked hours, then up again at twilight for a second round of food gathering. But Emmaline had promised Marigold she'd help set up for the grand opening of the midnight market, which ran from spring to fall in the heart of the forest. Marigold hadn't asked for help. She would not ask, not even of her oldest friend, not even when she really, truly needed the help. And it was only her second year running the market. She had the terrible and terribly common tendency to to take on more than she could reasonably expect to accomplish, yet hesitate to ask for help from those around her. But once Emmaline got wind of the fact that a great many of the expected helpers were suddenly unavailable.
- [12:16]
B
Burch is headed out of town. Has to visit his uncle Orchid is sick with a fever, the poor thing. And Lark. Oh, well, now I can't remember why
- [12:27]
A
Lark can't make it. Emmaline had insisted on being there today to prepare for the opening tonight. Marigold had knitted her brow.
- [12:44]
B
You must have all kinds of things on your to do list.
- [12:47]
A
Nonsense. This is more important. Nothing could keep me away. Especially not a missing hat. Emmaline thought now with a smile. How silly she'd been. The sun was peeking from behind the clouds, but Emmaline had not squinted once on her journey. Still, she winced slightly as she rounded the bend, knowing her friend would immediately zero in on her bare head. Emmeline, she'd say.
- [13:22]
B
I simply cannot have my oldest friend swoon from sun fever.
- [13:28]
A
The clearing came into view. Marigold stood giving instructions to several other squirrels, all of them responsible. More so than me, Emmaline mused. Wore hats with wide brims. When Marigold saw Emeline, her eyes lit up and she waved.
- [13:54]
B
Emeline, thank goodness you're here.
- [13:57]
A
She said nothing about Emmeline's hatlessness. Emmeline surveyed the market booths in varying states of assembly and warmed with embarrassment at her own self centeredness. She's much too busy to even notice whether anything's atop my little head. Emmaline quickly fell in with the rest of the group.
- [14:24]
B
Now, everyone, here's a checklist with our goals for the day. You can take one and pass it down and we'll go through it together.
- [14:34]
A
It was no wonder Marigold had been hesitant to ask for help. Readying for the grand opening was a tremendous amount of work. There were dozens of booths to assemble, canopies to set up, a play area for small creatures with logs to balance on and swings strung from branches. The group of squirrels, rabbits, and gophers who came to assist spent a full two hours erecting a stage area where a bluegrass band of ravens would play that evening. It was quite the spectacle, all this activity in a clearing of the forest that had sat empty since mid fall, when everything that was presently being put up had been taken down. Day creatures stopped short in their travels when they got a look at the commotion. Most stood still and silent, content with observing something lively and intricate come together in a once blank spot. Others blurted comments or questions without qualm.
- [15:54]
B
If you need a new booth supplier, my brother Donnie is starting up a new booth supply business. I could get you a friends and family discount. I guess. It looks like you've got that covered for this year, but maybe next year I could. Is that pie booth returning this year? The one with the BlackBerry walnut. That's my neighbor Ellis's favorite. I always get him one as a thank you for feeding my pet spider when I go away in July.
- [16:20]
A
In mid afternoon, the sun seemed to burst from behind a cluster of clouds. The air became hot and humid, and the clearing was flooded with harsh light. The helpers took breaks now and then beneath the shade of the canopies they had set up. They walked in groups of three to the nearby stream for water, but most of the preparations had to be done out in the open. Emmaline was pleased to find the sun did not bother her as much as she'd feared. She worked steadily, stringing up twine from booth to booth, lightly linking them all together. It was as if on this oh so important day, she had a little leafy canopy above her at all times, allowing her to focus on her tasks rather than worrying about her own sensitive eyes. What a gift to be so wholly engaged in doing something useful that one forgets oneself for a time. But Emmaline did not think about any of that. She did not think anything at all. She was totally absorbed as she knotted the last bit of twine on a nail sticking out of a board on the last booth. In projects like the midnight market setup, it is common for things to begin orderly. Materials are laid out in categories. Tools are displayed for easy selection. There is a plan in this case, a very detailed paper plan filled with intricate drawings and notes, as Marigold was a highly organized squirrel. But there comes a time in such a project when the whole orchestration resembles something closer to a mess. The whole of the waning afternoon was spent in that hodgepodge state, with half constructed booths lining the clearing, half forgotten tools scattered around its center, and materials, wood, metal, moss, rope strewn throughout. Many a rabbit would wonder how everything would come together in the end. Not Emmaline. The chaos was familiar. It resembled bedtime at her home, with bunnies literally hopping off the walls, screeching with delight, throwing pajamas instead of wearing them, racing one another round the bed frames to release the last of their energy. It always appeared as if peace would never, could never settle over the warren. But it did. Teeth were eventually brushed, toys put away, pajamas pulled over tired heads, blankets tucked tightly beneath chins, frayed strands of life in the warren gathered together in a sleepy hush, peace and order restored every time and in the same fashion. The workers slowly but surely finished the booths, used up spare materials, returned tools to their designated boxes, and by twilight the clearing was once again neat and tidy and ready for the market. There was just one last thing to do.
- [20:45]
B
Let's do one every four to five feet and see how it looks.
- [20:49]
A
Marigold, clearly depleted from the long day, removed her hat and scruffed the matted fur on her head. Clark, an inexhaustible gopher who had been instrumental in assembling the huge sign that would welcome customers at the entrance of the clearing, led the gophers in hanging lanterns every few feet along the twine. Emmaline had laced through the booths, and just as the sun slipped away completely, the gophers lit them up one by one until the clearing was filled with glowing lights. The market sellers began arriving in a steady stream. Marigold sighed.
- [21:46]
B
Oh, it's enchanting. It's just as I imagined. Thank you so much, everyone.
- [21:53]
A
I could not have made this happen without you. Emmaline had not brought anything to trade, so paid little attention to the vendors except for a tall squirrel setting up a salt booth. She smiled herself and made a mental note to come back soon on a clear night. After all, salt was very hard to come by. It was quiet in the warren when Emmaline arrived home. Rutherford looked up from his newspaper. How'd it go? Exhausting. But it all came together in the end. Several bunnies must have sniffed her out and came bounding around the corner, leaping at her for hugs. Hello. You drew this? It's lovely. Let's hang it on the pantry door. Cookie, did you give yourself a haircut at this? Cookie. And the rest of them burst into giggles and bounded away out of sight. Dash sat quietly by the fireplace, focused intently on building a tower of toothpicks. Hello, Dash, emmeline said. She felt a rush of affection for him then, and a twinge in noticing he somehow looked older than he had yesterday. He glanced up from his work.
- [23:35]
B
Hello, Mummy. I like your hat. I like the green color.
- [23:40]
A
So he did take it. Emmeline narrowed her eyes at her little mischief maker. Dash, honey, where did you put my. But then she noticed his eyes were fixed on a point slightly above her own. Oh. Hesitatingly, Emmaline reached up and grasped the brim of her hat. But how did I miss? How did I not notice a leafy canopy above my head? Indeed, all there was to do was laugh. Dash, come here. Emmaline's littlest son rose from the floor and ran into her arms. Oh, Dash, I've been so silly today. You're always silly. You, too. So, Declan, what did you think of this story? Oh, dear. Apparently he should have taken the seat in the prickly pillow. He's out cold. But that's fine. That's swell. In fact, my hope is that at least 43% of you are asleep right now and for those of you wide awake sitting on prickly pillows. I hope you enjoyed the story. Little Stories for Tiny People is written, performed and produced by me, Rhea Pechter, my in house Tech Director. Peter K. Runs my website and puts my stories in the Internet for all of you to enjoy. Thank you to Grace for the super important reminder message at the beginning and thank you as always for listening. Fastening in.