[A Recollection of] Infirmary of Doom
Oct 29, 2018 21:25:22 GMT -5
Post by Celebes on Oct 29, 2018 21:25:22 GMT -5
Dear Sula,
I am dreadfully sorry I was not able to finish the story while we were in person. You were practically yanking my rudder off to continue my reminiscing, and there I was stuffing my face in bowl after bowl of your mum’s seasquirt stew. I'll just say, thank you for not weaponizing that carved bark I sent you. You gotta’ understand that there is no proper otter food back at the Abbey. I really don't know how your holt manages to stay so trim when you have vittles like that every day, but you seem to manage more than fine. Anyway, I'll try to see if I can squeeze this whole thing onto my two pieces of parchment.
So I think I mentioned last time that I had left a key piece of evidence in the lurch, a pillowcase in the kitchen we just raided. If I didn't mention it, well, then that's what happened. Isaiah, the mouse who had been with the dorm for a while and liked shooting chestnuts at other beast's snouts, had agreed to help me get to the infirmary so that I could get a new one. Sounds like a sweet gesture, but I think he just wanted to stay out of trouble too. Can't say I blame him.
Anyone, after a short scuffle, we started our way down the hall. The news of some sort of kerfluffle in the kitchens was general knowledge among grownbeasts by now, and there were several patrolling the passages for perpetrators. We hadn't gotten far when somebeast with a lantern had started up our hallway. Isaiah and I seemed to have the same idea, for we both dove for the same door to hide behind. You'll have to remember that I was still quite new at the Abbey, and so hadn't learned where every closet and cubby was. I only assumed that this was one of the former. Since it seemed like it was taking a while for the old codger to walk by outside, I decided to sniff around the dark room. And if you hadn't noticed by my haste in finding your mum's cooking hearth, my paws tend to follow my snout. This would be fine, had this actually been a closet. Turns out, it was a stairwell to the cellar, and following my sniffer back into it led to quite the fall down some stairs. For some reason, my moaning sounded like fun to Isaiah, and he quickly followed me in tripping down the flight.
Well, after I had collected a few bruises and Isaiah picked up a new scent courtesy of a leaking barrel of mead, we made it back up the stairs and into the hallway. I have to see that it was a might tempting to call the whole thing off and duck back into the dorm as we passed by, but I held firm. Not without being a bit jealous of those other two dibbuns who had make it back from the raid without a trace, but I suppose we can't be experts the first time out.
After another flight of stairs, the infirmary in Redwall is on the second floor away from the noise of the grounds, we made it to the infirmary. Have you ever been hoping and expecting something, only to be floored when reality smacks you with the opposite? Well, that was me at the infirmary at night. I don't know what Isaiah was expecting, but I can tell you I wasn't expecting an entire infirmary full of moles suffering from food poisoning! The hotroot on top of the proverbial watershrimp soup was that the linen cabinet was on the opposite side of this infirmary full of moaning moles. I figured there was nothing for it to sneak.
Turns out Isaiah had the same idea. We both wanted to be the one crawling under the beds to get to the linens, and not get stuck sentry. Isaiah was a bit quicker off the mark, and as he dove I remember grabbing his tail. It was sticky, that was the strange part of it. You see, I didn't know he had fallen in that sticky puddle of mead back in the cellars, and well. I don't like the sight of blood. And in the moonlight, with the stickiness of his tail and the faint discoloration, well, I thought he was bleeding. All over. I panicked a bit. Isaiah got me under control by shoving me into the side of a cabinet, but there was so much noise knocking around that we decided to slip into the cupboard.
The space we were in was about what you could expect from an infirmary dresser. Small, smelly, and full of cotton. We couldn’t complain – well, I guess we could, but it wouldn’t have been too smart – too much, because at around the moment we hid in the cupboard the Infirmary Keeper came strolling in to check on her mound of moles. We stayed still. Quite an accomplishment for a pair of nervous dibbuns hiding in the dark. After a bit of conversing with one of the moaning moles, the sister left, leaving Isaiah and I unsure of whether it was safe to leave our tiny refuge. While we fought over this decision, we also fought over another one, namely on how much bandage should be used to cover a scrape Isaiah had picked up on the way. I still think it should have been five paws worth, not five claws worth.
Our desire to stretch eventually got the better of us, and we eventually slipped back out of the cupboard. No moaning moles this time, only snoring ones. We made our way slowly to the linen cupboard. Finding that our bad luck was holding true, Isaiah and I puzzled for a bit on how to get the pillow cases off the top shelf. Eventually I settled on climbing up the shelves to retrieve a pillow case, quite logically figuring that if a shelf could hold several heavy quilts, one more lean otter would surely not be too much to ask. I was right. I was so right, in fact, that in my excitement to get down I pulled half the linens out of the cupboard. Isaiah, always reliable for a laugh, had somehow fallen asleep standing up, and was buried in sheets. Isaiah is also very reliable for a scare, for as soon as we stuffed the sheets back in the cupboard in a none-too-folded wad, he let out a terrible shout and bolted from the infirmary.
A mole woke. Stared at me. Mumbled. And fell back asleep. Isaiah had almost gotten me caught on purpose.
There was hardly enough time to be indignant, and soon I got him back by scaring him in the darkened hallway. Completely by accident, I assure you. By now, we had been out of our dorm too long, and the kitchen mess had been discovered some time ago. There were beginning to be lantern lights flickering around the corners of hallways, and we were too close for comfort to my parent’s dorm on the second floor. We had to go.
We ran. We had just made it to the stairwell when we realized there was somebeast coming up from the bottom flight. As we turned to run away, I spotted a pair of grownbeasts coming up from down the hallway. We were trapped. I thought the only hope left was to run up the stairs for the attic. But Isaiah, always reliable for a crazy idea, spotted another way out. The landing window.
Now, I am not at all afraid to admit I am afraid of heights. We were half a story up, with no idea what was on the dark lawn below. But Isaiah couldn’t make it up to the window without me, and in his moment of need, I complied. I soon joined him on the sill, as there was no longer enough time to round the stairwell to the attic. It had to be out the window. I knew it had to be. But I froze. My paws gripped onto the stone sill for dear life. I couldn’t push myself out into the void. But Isaiah could. It turns out his hour of need was also my hour, and he gave me the push I needed to make the leap.
Well, seeing that I have a paw unmaimed enough to write this letter to you, you can probably guess we landed all right. Turns out hedges are great at breaking falls, even otter dibbun sized ones. After a moment of stunned silence on the grass, we broke out into pure mirth. We let the whole dark orchard know of our elation. Isaiah and I had gotten away with more than we had deserved, for as soon as we jumped out the window some ignorant grownbeast came along to close the shutters against the draft. We were free. It was only a short time before I was in through the dorm window, had my apologies and pawshakes and Isaiah, and had my pillow was recased. Soon to be supporting my weary head.
How about that, and even longer sequel! Can’t say if it’s better or not, but it’s probably better than leaving the ending untold, eh? Well, with my last drops of ink, let me just say I think of you often, even more than your mum’s good cooking. Keep an eye on Saltback, I hear he’s trying to beat my record on the urchin dive!
Your only otter,
Celebes
[enclosed is a wonderfully pressed pail o' poseys]
Hoi again, everybeast!
Here is the sequel to the adventure so stirringly recaptured in Celebes' last love letter, Raiders of Known Kitchens. Another Rp down, rescued from the obscurity of eternal KerfluffledomTM. Thanks again to my main man wingmouse, never would have thought of flat flowers as a way to impress the she-otters.
Credits to our Cast
Badgermum, as played by Bella of Brockhall
Celebes, as played by Celebes
Infirmary Sister, as played by Abbot Mortimer
Isaiah, as played by Isaiah
Lanterned Redwaller, as played by Storm Gullwhacker
Mole #1, as played by Bilbur
Mole #2, as played by Old Dinny
Mole #3, as played by Foremole IV
and Noisy footfalls were provided by the local chapter of Riverdance Stoats