And so it was that I came to live with the mole siblings Mitzi and Eepee. To make a long story short, they soon put two and two together with my disjointed story over biscuits and the decimated camp that Eepee had passed on his way home. They very kindly offered that I come and stay with them. I had no other options, and the biscuits were nice so I agreed.
Mitzi was a kind soul, really a wonderful beast. She was continually happy and it wasn’t uncommon to hear her singing as she went about her work. A neat freak, she cleaned the burrow everyday from top to bottom and she was also a wonderful carer, making sure that everyone had clothes that fit and weren’t torn, keeping the place warm and, most of all, seeing that we were well fed. Redwall’s cuisine may be revered the length and breadth of the land, but I would trade any dish from there for just one of Mitzi’s plum cakes, or her turnip ‘n’ tater ‘n’ beetroot pies. I suppose being raised by moles helped, but I came to love that recipe as much as any of them.
Her brother, Eepee was a quiet old thing, not given to long conversations. He spent much of his time in private thought, just sitting and staring into space. He also wandered in the forest a lot, always with some purpose such as finding herbs or flowers. However, more often than not he returned with an empty basket, and we knew the real reason for his treks were to find solitary time. When he did speak, he used the minimal amount of words to get his message across, and he never spoke without cause. Younger than Mitzi, he knew his place in the family.
I had nightmares about my family a lot, but Mitzi was very understanding. She helped me settle in and feel at home right from the very start. I’m sure our family den was a lovely place to live, but the mole’s underground burrow was very cosy and I soon came to love it there.
I’m not sure what prompted these moles to welcome me into their home. Maybe Mitzi was lonely with just Eepee to care for, and wanted someone else to fuss. Maybe Eepee liked coming home to a busy atmosphere to counteract the solitude of the forest. Either way, I was very grateful.
I had my own little room – originally a pantry but it had been unused for years – which was cool in the summer and warm in the winter. There was a tiny kitchen which Mitzi practically lived in, turning out delicious food for every meal, and next to that a small but functional living area. The walls were covered in thick oak roots; these were used as shelves and one particular set as stairs. Up the ‘stairs’ were Mitzi’s and Eepee’s rooms and the entry hall. The front door of the burrow actually led to this floor, and then you took the steps down to the rest of the house. There was also plenty of space for development – all Eepee had to do was start digging.
Coincidentally, two weeks after I arrived, they needed that space. Eepee found another orphaned woodlander while out walking. Patrice the ottermaid was washed up on the beach, with horrible gashes on her shoulders. Eepee, feeling sorry for her, had taken her home with him to see if Mitzi would agree to taking in another helpless soul. She was about my age, and I heard Eepee whisper to his sister that the very same weasels were responsible for her state.
“Well, we’ve alr’dy taik’n in one orphaned beast, whots another one gonna make any difference?” Mitzi sighed and went to find more spare blankets for the new member of the family. I think secretly she liked having beasts to care for.
Patrice and I obviously became fast friends. She had had a twin brother before the weasels visited, and so was used to being a gruesome twosome. All of my siblings had been older, and my cousins came round very rarely, so I was glad of someone my own age to pal around with. We very soon became the terrors of the area, known far and wide for our mischievous deeds.
The third orphan, Yan, came about a season later. He was three seasons older than Patrice and I, and, being a badger, about twice the size, but we still got on fairly well. No beast knew what his life had been like before coming to live with us; he never talked about it. Eepee had met him while collecting nuts, and had offered him shelter for the night since he seemed to be alone. Again, Mitzi did not complain but just tried to make him comfortable. He confessed to having nowhere to live and was too young to be out on his own, so the mole brother and sister took him on permanently. However, Mitzi said he would be the last, she didn’t want her home turned into a haven for poor orphans and vagabonds. “Ev’ry toime he goos out, he cooms back wiv anuvver mouth to feed!”
Arbara’s fiancée came looking for me once, early on. He had heard the news of my family and had come to offer me a place in his; “It’s the least I can do for my almost-little-sister.” I knew he was trying to be kind, but I felt the resentment in his voice, and knew he would always hate me for living when the one he loved was dead. I hid behind Mitzi’s skirt and shook my head. He left quickly, taking with him a bottle of plum wine and an offer to come visit me whenever he wanted. He never came back.
After that my childhood was fairly normal, except that I had moles as parents and an otter and badger for siblings. But I was happy, and soon – almost – forgot my other family at all.
The nightmares came back from time to time to remind me.
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