The mouse lived in the cupboard. She ate crumbs, drank water, and read the backs of cereal boxes. The characters were insipid, but reading passed the time. When she was thirsty, she crept to the sink. The crumbs on the bottom shelves were nutritious, though bland, and the cupboard was a comfortable home for the mouse.
Outside stood a hickory tree. The nuts were the food, and the leaves the bedding, for a squirrel. In winter she woke to eat, and ran in the snow under the tree. Then she climbed back into her nest, ate again, and watched the branches move against the sky.
The spring sun melted the snow and warmed the kitchen. Through her window over the sink the mouse watched the squirrel. Struck by the red fur and enormous tail, the mouse examined her own reflection, and thought about letting her hair grow out a bit so it would layer in the back. The sky grew dark while the squirrel ran from place to place, and the wind blew cold.
As the first drops of rain spattered the window the squirrel climbed back to her nest in the hickory tree, and the mouse returned to her cabinet. Sitting behind the bag of quinoa, the mouse heard the wind rising, and thunder shook the house.
The squirrel gripped the tree trunk as limbs first swayed, then swung violently. Dead branches snapped off and blew away, then with a loud crack the old hickory tree split, half of it crashing to the ground. The rest, with the squirrel holding tight, fell against the roof and then broke through into the house.
The mouse’s cabinet crashed to the floor, scattering boxes and bags across the kitchen. A carton of oats burst open. Through the hole in the roof the rain flew in to mix with the powdered milk. The mouse, safe under a bag of puffed rice, stared: first in amazement to see the squirrel in the house; next in fear to see her motionless on the kitchen floor; and finally in relief to see her breathing.
The mouse watched as the squirrel regained consciousness, confused and wary. Seeing the beginnings of panic in her twitching tail and darting movements, the mouse approached. Introducing herself, she explained what had happened, and they looked at the mess, wondering what to do.
When workmen came to put an enormous blue tarp over the hole in the roof and remove the hickory tree, the mouse and the squirrel hid in the attic. Two days later the hammering and sawing began, and it was clear neither of them could live comfortably in the house. The squirrel thought she knew a place.
The mouse climbed carefully after the squirrel, clutching her tail on the steep parts, as they made their way up and into the garage. The loft was roomy, with plenty of boxes, and a sack of old magazines to read. A family of starlings from back east had nested in the eves, and said they were glad of the company. The birds, though inclined to chatter, were good natured and generous. So the mouse and the squirrel set up pretty comfortably over the garage. They took the bag of quinoa with them, and no one ever missed it.
Monday Evening 