3 - Juanita

“Great-Grandpa, guess what I found.” Harry dashed into the living room, then stopped in utter surprise. Next to Great-Grandpa sat a young, black squirrel girl he had never seen before. The girl had the biggest, prettiest eyes but her dark fur was matted and uncombed. 

“Who are you?”

“Now, now, Harry, please don’t forget your manners.” Great-Grandpa smiled mildly. “This is Juanita Squirnández. Originally, her family lived in a region called Texas. Apparently, Texas is a country in the southwest of the continent. During the Great Disastrous Flood, their tribe’s life raft log was swept east and they built a new life somewhere southwest of here, on a barrier island. Unfortunately, a few full moons ago, her tribe’s burrow got flooded during a big storm and most of the tribe members perished.” 

Great-Grandpa briefly glanced at Juanita to see if his telling her story upset her. 

“The few survivors tried to find a new tribe. Juanita got separated from her friends but the clever girl was able to hitch rides on a few deer. The deer brought her here – to us.” 

Wow, what a story. Harry gasped. He loved hearing adventure stories. Turning to Juanita he asked, “How many moons were you traveling? By the way, I am Harry. Pleased to meet you.” 

Surprised at his reaction, Juanita stammered, “Many moons... many, many moons. We tried to stay with a few tribes but they did not want us.” She looked a bit embarrassed. “They called us black rats with bushy tails.” 

How strange. Harry bit his lip, he didn’t know what to say.

Squirrels’ furs came in all colors – gray, tan, red, orange, blonde, black, and even white. Why had these squirrels called Juanita names?   

“Now, girl, there is no need to cry.” Great-Grandpa smiled at her. “You can stay with us. We think your dark fur is very pretty.” And, turning to Harry, he said, “Why don’t you show Juanita around and introduce her to the tribe? It’s time for my afternoon nap.”

4 - FREEDOM, EQUALITY, JUSTICE, & SQUIRRELITY

Back in the tunnels Harry asked Juanita, “So, what would you like to see first?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have never visited a big burrow like this one. I am hungry. Could I maybe get some nuts before we look at anything?” 

“Sure. We have a Nuttateria. Please follow me.” 

The Nuttateria had been tunneled right under the big oak tree.  Juanita could see the exposed tap root at the back wall. It was decorated with a carved wood portrait depicting George Squirrelton and Benjamin Franknut. Of course, since Juanita knew nothing about the founders of the Sciurus States, she did not recognize them.

The mess hall was manned by two squirrels who greeted them happily. “Hey, Harry, what’s up? And, who is your friend?” 

Juanita looked around, flabbergasted. Speechless, she stared at the neat arrangement of hazelnuts, hickory nuts, pecans, pine nuts, and walnuts that were stockpiled by variety and size at the back wall. On a root that served as a counter stood small, pine-bark dishes filled with wild cabbage pieces and dried caterpillars. At the very end of the counter sat a couple of gourds labeled “water.” Juanita had never seen anything like this eatery. 

Realizing that the poor girl was overwhelmed, Harry took charge of the moment. 

“Thanks for asking. Why don’t you give us a sample basket? Guys, this is Juanita. She is from the southwest. We don’t know what kind of nuts grow there. So, it’s probably best if she samples a few of ours.”

Then, turning to Juanita, he suggested, “Let’s eat outside. It’s a beautiful afternoon.” 

He ushered the bewildered squirrel girl through the backdoor.

A few minutes later, they sat down on a moss pillow between the oak tree’s surface roots. Juanita eagerly grabbed a pecan and nibbled on it. 

“Thank you. This is so good. I was so hungry. I haven’t eaten anything all day.” 

“You are welcome, Juanita. Didn’t you have a Nuttateria at your old home? I thought all burrows had one.” 

“Our old shelter was nothing like yours. I’ve never even heard the word Nuttateria, let alone seen one.” 

For a second, she looked as if she was about to start crying. 

“Originally, like really long ago, my ancestors lived in a wildlife refuge, in Texas. Then, the Big Disastrous Floods came...” 

 ~~~  v  ~~~  

Excerpt from "Are We Nuts?"

ISBN 978-1-7324211-1-0 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-7324211-2-7 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-7324211-0-3 (ebook)

Library of Congress Control Number:  2018906505

©  2018 by Gisela Hausmann