Acting as one, we hopped off to the storage bay and pulled out our picnic supplies out of the cooler. Surprisingly enough, nothing went bad. The flower salads and the spinach cucumbers were still good. So were the carrot sponges and nutriberry stocks. Ava and Penny took to preparing the beverages. I took one of our space suit helmets and programmed it to work as a display monitor. Data from our ship’s radar and infrared eyes would display on the visor, and we could watch it at the picnic. We had to have some idea about what’s going on around us even if we couldn’t see it. Either one of us would have to keep an eye on the visor, or some bun would have to stay behind and monitor everything from the flight deck. We would get an alert if as much as field mouse tried to get close. Then, I helped load everything onto that electric cart of Molly’s, and we were ready to go.
Our little picnic caravan left the ship and headed for the “art exhibit.” Pancake and Abby fired up the hover-stand and went to get the aerial tour of Joey’s installation. First, we took turns on the hover-stand for a closer look at the composition. Every bunny nodded, hemmed and hawed, there were oohs and ahhs as well, but I got the sense everybunny just liked Joey more than anything, and he couldn’t do much wrong.
We wanted to set up the picnic around the middle of the stone circle, and then we started thinking. The spot we had picked seemed OK at first, but then we started to have second thoughts. Almost in unison, we picked up everything once again, and we moved it closer to the ship into an open area. Those giant stones in the art exhibit would provide too much cover for anyone trying to catch us off guard. We didn’t want to spend the night improvising an alarm system against coyotes, badgers or what had you in those woods. And then there were the bipeds.
Joey started the reception by dragging out the veg cart the bipeds gifted us. He lit up the flamethrower on the hover-stand and proceeded to crush the cart into splinters. And then he set the pile of wood on fire. It was quite the riveting performance, with smoldering ambers rising and floating away into the night and the crackle of the flames.
The supper turned out excellent. Hopmeric enjoyed sampling the dandelion carrots and the sweet berry-cherries. He especially liked my raspberry and pineapple compote. Joey narrated everything for him, and I wondered if any of it started to get through to Hopmeric.
All this time Joey sat on the hover-stand and minded the flamethrower. Abby wanted him to keep it hot, so the pilot lights stayed on and Joey would let loose with the throttle from time to time. The flames roared like the devil gurgling hot lava. Joey enjoyed it very much and let out a guttural cackle every time the blazes flared up. He was making us nervous, and finally, Penny asked him to stop it. He relented.
After the dinner started to settle down, I realized how tired I felt. The past few days had been much longer than I thought. I stretched out on my back and let myself take in the scenery, the sky, the moon, night bugs and owls somewhere in the distance. It was set to be a beautiful, clear night. The stars couldn’t wait to come out, and the giant, orange lantern of the moon was rising to the occasion.
We were all quiet when Penny asked, “So, Joey, why only half a circle? You had enough material to complete a small one, no?” Joey thought about it, shrugged his shoulders and said, “I guess that’s the first thing that came to my mind. I just had to do something, and I neither had the time not tools for anything more complex.” Pancake nodded and added, “The sheer size and scale of those blocks make you pause when you're around them. It would be great to see what would become of them later, much later.” Then Joey got a little contemplative, “I thought about carving one of those stones, but I didn’t have my antimatter chisels. It just never occurred to me to pack it. It would be a really fascinating project to carve something on that scale. Better yet, it would be great to carve all of them. I’ve been thinking about it as I was arranging the pieces. Oh well.” He sighed and fixed his gaze on the flames of the bonfire.
“Yeah, now those slabs do look a little unfinished, like great, blank sheets of paper,” mused Abby.
“How about something like a series based on historical events? Maybe ‘The Chapters of Bunkind’?” I asked. “Neh, waypoints, the Waypoints of Bunkind,” added Penny. Joey looked surprised by all the attention, and his mouf dropped a little, but he kept quiet.
“How about something like a series based on historical events? Maybe ‘The Chapters of Bunkind’?” I asked. “Neh, waypoints, the Waypoints of Bunkind,” added Penny. Joey looked surprised by all the attention, and his mouf dropped a little, but he kept quiet.
All the while I kept an eye on the helmet and the colorful display on its visor. Its colors went very well with the evening, and I almost let myself forget that this was our early warning system against unwelcome guests. The visor reflected the celestial expanse above us as the green and blue data danced and glittered. Best of all, the visor showed that we were alone no creature big or small tried to get close to us. The ship saw us as the only infrared hot spot.
“You know, Joey, maybe you could pitch the idea to the Global Warren Assembly?” wondered Pancake.
“Maybe,” Joey grinned. He looked up at the sky and gestured with his paws as if stretching something in an arch from the ground skyward and added, “The first piece would be easy enough, ‘The Orange Hair!’”
“Um, Joey, you know that’s supposed to be the Orange Hare, not hair, right?” Molly chimed in. Joey looked at her confounded as his smile evaporated, “What do you mean, a ‘hare’?” Molly tried to be as kind as she could, “You know, the mysterious Orange Hare they talk about in the Experimental Mythology classes.” “The only experiments Joey did in that class were with his catnip stogies,” quipped Pancake. Molly gave her a side look and continued, “The lore says that the first turning point for Bunkind was some strange, orange hare that became different from every bunny else.”
“Maybe,” Joey grinned. He looked up at the sky and gestured with his paws as if stretching something in an arch from the ground skyward and added, “The first piece would be easy enough, ‘The Orange Hair!’”
“Um, Joey, you know that’s supposed to be the Orange Hare, not hair, right?” Molly chimed in. Joey looked at her confounded as his smile evaporated, “What do you mean, a ‘hare’?” Molly tried to be as kind as she could, “You know, the mysterious Orange Hare they talk about in the Experimental Mythology classes.” “The only experiments Joey did in that class were with his catnip stogies,” quipped Pancake. Molly gave her a side look and continued, “The lore says that the first turning point for Bunkind was some strange, orange hare that became different from every bunny else.”
Joey looked at Hopmeric. Our orange hare was sprawled out on his belly, napping with tucks out, oblivious to everything. His right paw was sticking out a little from under his chest, and his toes were moving. Sometimes they would randomly twitch, then they would move up and down like a wave. I couldn’t tell if anybunny else noticed that, and I decided not to draw their attention to it. Well, it didn’t matter, everybun did notice, and we were all staring at him, without a word.
After a long pause, we tried to return to the conversation about the “Waypoints of Bunkind.” We came up with a few ideas. There should be the “First Grasp,” the “Nutriberry,” and the “Splitting of the Carrot.” Beyond that, we started reciting our own “Firsts,” and somehow we generalized them to be essential to Bunkind at large. Joey thought the first EBA, any bunny’s EBA, should be on the list. To him, his first EBA was like another birthday. For me, it would be the first skydive. Molly felt the first flight that didn't kill any bunny should be included. She became a different bun when she soloed in a little SkyHop-66. Pancake and I voted for the discovery of disapprovium. When we tried to look for the dark matter in the universe and couldn’t find any, and instead we discovered disapprovium. Abby thought there should be a piece commemorating the First Global Warren Conference. We nodded to this one. And so it went on and on like that, late into the night.
Then, Hopmeric rose up from his nap.
Then, Hopmeric rose up from his nap.
No comments:
Post a Comment