Chapter Ten: Tea Time

 

Lily stood up on the other side of the long crawl under the briar patch, little worse for the wear. Arthur had guided her kindly all the way through, making sure that her knees never touched the bare earth and often crawling onto her back to move aside any thorns that might rip her dress.

“Thank you, Arthur,” she said.

“It was my pleasure, my dear. And now, on to Tea Time!”

They followed the path easily in the daylight, and before too long the yellowy-brownness of the Rookery towered before them. It delighted Lily to see that the home of the rooks was even more impressive in the daylight, although slightly less enchanting without the flickering light of the candles. The Rookery was indeed much more than just the great hall where the rooks slept. Side rooms and galleries stretched out on either side of the main atrium, tapering groundward as they went, meeting the earth as if the mighty structure had grown naturally from a single seed.

As Arthur and Lily walked toward the arch of the front doorway, Lily noticed for the first time a shallow stream running around its perimeter, like a moat. She had not noticed the stream in the darkness, nor had she realized that she had walked over a narrow, grass-covered stone bridge to reach the Rookery door.

In the daylight, she could make out the precision of the Rookery’s construction much more clearly. Thin, delicate branches had been braided loosely together, forming an ornate archway. As Lily passed through the archway into a short passage, she noticed that carved into the passage walls were hundreds of images of the rooks’ greatest feats of bravery and valor.  There above her were the stories of the legendary defeat of the hawks and the construction of the great hall, as well as carved portraits of some of the rooks’ more revered leaders of days gone by.

“Arthur,” Lily said, intending to ask him how the rooks could possibly have forgotten their history with these carvings displaying it so plainly, but she was startled from her thoughts by a great, almost deafening cheer followed by a ridiculous chorus of chattering and squawking.

“Oh!” Arthur exclaimed. “It looks like Tea Time has already begun! Come, we must hurry!” He grabbed her by the shoelace, almost untying it in his excitement, and began to scamper—in the most dignified way that a mouse can scamper—through the doorway and toward the far side of the Rookery.

Directly in the middle of the Rookery’s great hall the fire pit had been scrubbed sootless in preparation for Tea Time. In the middle of the fire pit, standing upon an upturned log, Romulus had just made a long, dignified bow. The cheering died down to a hush, and Arthur hurriedly directed Lily to an empty space along the outside edge of the Rookery floor.

As the rooks settled down, Lily had an opportunity to glance around her. Even though Arthur had told her that all the animals of the forest frequented the Rookery, she had not expected to see quite so many of them at Tea Time. Sitting next to her was a fidgeting tawny owl. He looked at her excitedly, unconsciously reaching up with his right foot to scratch his beak, before turning his enormous eyes back to the fire pit. He involuntarily hooted in his excitement. Lily noticed a family of bats hanging from one of the abandoned rooks’ nests, trying hard to stay awake for the festivities. A jackrabbit hopped excitedly around and around the base of the Rookery, knocking some of the smaller animals—the moles, voles, and weasels—off balance as he passed behind them.

Finally, the chattering animals and birds achieved silence. “Thank you, thank you,” Romulus cried to the rooks lining the edges of the Rookery. “I am pleased to see that our afternoon snack has arrived,” he grinned at Arthur. The rooks cheered and cawed good naturedly, while Arthur smiled and waved in acquiescence to the joke.

“I hope you’re all sitting comfortably. I hereby commence...” and here, a deadly silence washed over the crowd, “...Tea Time!”

A quiet, but intense whispering began at the top of the Rookery and fell like soft snow lower and lower until the whole Rookery was buzzing with it. It was only now that Lily noticed a huge bronze spittoon to Romulus’ left and an enormous pile of hard, flat biscuits on his right. Romulus looked grimly around the room, as if searching for something, then grasped a biscuit with his left wing, raised his right foot, and spun with blinding quickness on the spot as he hurled the biscuit high into the top reaches of the Rookery. All eyes were on the biscuit, and the tension was maddening. Then, just as the biscuit had reached its full height, threatening to fall, a midsized rook launched himself toward the empty space in the middle of the Rookery and caught the biscuit in his beak. At that moment, several things happened: two rooks blazed through the air and pirouetted around one another just below the rook with the biscuit; Romulus soared toward the Rookery’s highest point and attempted to steal the biscuit from the rook who had caught it, and the moment he left his base at the fire pit, both the jackrabbit and the tawny owl raced for the spittoon, the jackrabbit reaching it first and squeezing inside, while the owl only bounced with a ridiculously loud clang off its outside. Both owl and jackrabbit righted themselves at once and the jackrabbit began bouncing around the floor of the Rookery like a golden cannonball with legs. Animals scurried every which way, and from high above, rooks soared down from their roosts, bombarding the Rookery floor in an attempt to seize one of the biscuits. They each in turn hurled their biscuits either skyward toward the fierce game of catch that was ensuing in the air above, or earthward, trying to knock the bouncing spittoon on its side. The owl made attempt after clanging attempt to knock the jackrabbit-powered spittoon off balance, while a slick black otter, who had apparently just emerged from the stream outside, barked with glee, flipped onto his back and began to beat his wet stomach in uproarious applause.

Lily giggled and clapped her hands at the chaos. She looked to her right expecting to see Arthur, but he was gone. He had run off with the other animals to take part in the Tea Time romp. She saw him on the other side of the Rookery floor near the otter, at the head of a group of animals—some rooks, the family of bats, a weasel, a turtle, and a very sleepy mole. The mouse turned to face the hodgepodge group of animals and lifted his hands. They all took a deep breath in unison and as his hands came down, out from the midst of this rag-tag choir came a mighty song.

Sing, sing the oldest song
To all the trees and all the fields
To this glad world we all belong
Sing, sing the oldest song

Drink, drink the oldest wine
For friendship, food and cheer
From every fruit of every vine
Drink, drink the oldest wine

For all brave fools and sinful saints
For every searching soul
For mournful cry or glad heart faint
With love and mercy full

Sing, sing the oldest song
To all the trees and all the fields
To this glad world we all belong
Sing, sing the oldest song

The singing and the squawking and the banging of biscuits on the spittoon, of which the jackrabbit had somehow managed to maintain control, turned into a great dissonant tumult, like a symphony of pots and pans. And then with another deafening unified cheer, the whole lot broke into great peals of laughter. Suddenly, Tea Time seemed over, and somehow Lily had missed it altogether. She stood on the Rookery floor with her mouth hanging open before she too fell to the ground in laughter.

Romulus had landed back in the shiny fire pit that was now littered with crumbs and feathers and all manner of dust and twigs and even a few worn out rooks. He raised his wings for silence and the mad giggles slowly faded except for a few insuppressible fits of laughter from a mole or two and the jackrabbit, who was so dizzy that he hadn’t yet been able to extract himself from the spittoon.

“To your health!” Romulus cried.

“And to yours,” the animals returned, and everyone descended to the Rookery floor to shake paws, hands, and wings and celebrate the morning’s achievements. Lily found herself towering above the crowd of animals, but several of them attempted to shake her hands anyway, and a few of the smaller ones actually found the courage to ascend her stockings and her dress in order to greet her face to face—a bit too close for her comfort, perhaps, but she did not really mind.

“Pleased to meet you,” Lily said to a beaver who had stood on his hind legs to greet her with a toothy smile. He immediately attempted to regale her with the long but not-so-fascinating tale of his construction of the dam that created the Rookery moat, but at the same moment Lily noticed a furry reddish animal skulking around the outside edge of the Rookery floor. Almost instantly, Lily could tell that the animal was a fox—perhaps the only animal in the forest who had not taken part in Tea Time. The skittish creature now seemed to be hiding among the tree trunks rather than joining in the fun.

“Excuse me, Mr. Beaver. I must be going,” Lily said somewhat abruptly, and cast her eyes around the room for someone she trusted.

“Oh. Of course. Certainly,” the beaver replied, ambling off to join his friends.

Lily couldn’t see Arthur anywhere, but she heard Titus’ voice, and after having heard so many good things about him from Arthur, she decided that he was next best. “Titus,” she called to him.

“At your service, madam,” he replied rather coldly.

Afraid that Titus was still offended by her disrespect the previous day and anxious to make friends again, she said, “Titus, thank you so much for bringing me to the Rookery yesterday. What a wonderful place you rooks have built! Arthur has told me all about it.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you like it. I knew you wouldn’t be disappointed. How are you getting on? Isn’t Tea Time marvelous?” he replied, making a noble attempt to forget their difficult beginning.

“It is marvelous! There isn’t much in the way of tea, though, is there?”

“Well, no, though I suppose there must have been some tea involved when the tradition began. Alas! Even the tea itself has disappeared from Tea Time as the years have passed.”

“I like it better this way,” she declared. “But I think there may be some trouble. Titus, I think there is a fox hiding over there.”

“Where?” the rook asked.

“Over there,” she replied, pointing to the dark shaft where a fluffy red paw rested at the base of an oak.

“What? The fox?” Titus smiled. “That’s no one. It’s just Edward. He’s a strange one. His whole family is a bit eccentric, but he’s not dangerous; he just likes to linger in this wood. Don’t concern yourself with him, miss.”

“But why would any animal want to just watch Tea Time when they could join in on the fun?”

“Why, indeed?” Titus answered with a chortle.

“It has been some morning, Titus,” Lily said.

“Yes, it has!” he agreed. And with that, he returned to his conversation with another rook about a particularly spectacular maneuver he had accomplished during Tea Time, leaving Lily free to look for Arthur.

She soon noticed him standing near a small knot of animals that Lily recognized as his choir, but he didn’t appear to be talking to them. In fact, to Lily’s great concern, he appeared to be in a heated discussion with himself.

“I do appreciate your opinion,” he was saying as Lily knelt down beside him. “In fact, I value your talent immensely, but perhaps this is a discussion best taken up at tomorrow’s rehearsal.”

Arthur was so focused on what he was saying, that he failed to notice Lily’s arrival. “Arthur?” Lily whispered, now quite concerned.

“Oh!” he said, startled. “Miss Lily, I didn’t see you there!”

“Arthur, is everything alright?” she said, gently.

He looked at her quizzically, and then burst into laughter. “Oh, Miss Lily! How this must have looked! Yes, I’m fine! Let me introduce you to Horatio. I imagine he might be difficult for you to see. Horatio is a mosquito.”

“Pleased to meet you, Horatio,” Lily said, squinting to see him hovering a foot or so off the ground.

“Horatio is our resident poet, and when you arrived he was just offering his very valued opinion about the lyrics of the Tea Time song I composed,” Arthur said to Lily before turning to Horatio and saying, “Thank you, Horatio, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Arthur!” Lily exclaimed as Horatio buzzed merrily away. “You have a choir! How fun!”

“Oh yes, Miss Lily, we do have a little singing group. I have only been working with them for a short time, but they have made tremendous progress. Singing is a great equalizer. It builds up the community in a way that competitions like Tea Time could never do. Don’t you think?” Arthur beamed.

“I do!” Lily replied. “Do they all sing with you? The rooks and everyone, I mean?”

“Heavens, no! At least, not yet,” Arthur laughed. “I have tried to convince Titus that a formal choir would do wonders to unify the rooks and help them see their potential. But he resists me—usually by saying ‘poppycock’ or ‘codswallop’ or some other nonsense word. But someday...someday I’m going to get these birds to work together. Then we will see what we can really do, won’t we?”

Just then, near the Rookery door, a group of otters flipped over onto their backs in unison and began beating out a rhythm that stirred the animals into a second frenzy. “Ah! My drum corps!” Arthur called out cheerfully to Lily over the noise, before he took off in a very mouse-like scurry toward the Rookery door.

“Come, Miss Lily! Intermission is over!” he called behind him. She was almost certain she had detected a hint of mischief in his eyes, and Lily, being quite accustomed to a hint of mischief of her own now and then, didn’t hesitate to follow quite cheerfully.

As she raced toward the Rookery door, Lily realized that something strange had come over the animals. The rooks raced into the air together and streamed through the small opening in the top of the Rookery, while all the earthbound animals scampered and hopped through the archway and over the stone bridge. Even though she was much bigger than the others, Lily found it hard to keep up with them as they dashed madly through the forest. “You’re going to love this, to be sure, miss! Part two is my favorite!” hooted the tawny owl as he flew past her to catch up with the others.

“Arthur!” she shouted as she ran, even though she couldn’t see him in the rush of animals.

“Yes?” she heard him call back with some effort

“Where are you? Where are we going?” she called out.

“You’ll see!” He tried to say something further but his voice was drowned out by the wild animal giggles rising from the forest floor.

The animals ran, hopped, and flew deeper and deeper into the forest, and Lily had become nearly wild with anticipation, wondering what the second half of this mad Tea Time would hold, when suddenly a crack and rumble of thunder like the end of the world shook the forest to its roots. The small animals cowered, the large animals became as still as statues, the rooks fell from the sky like huge black hailstones, and Lily screamed, tripped on a root, and tumbled to the ground. In their play, none of the animals had noticed the dark clouds gathering over the forest or smelled the oncoming rain, so they were all unprepared for the abrupt ending to Tea Time.

Lily held her hands over her head as the first drops fell from the dark clouds, though the effort would do little good. The bulging pillows of dark gray hanging low in the sky were not the clouds of a gentle autumn shower; they were the clouds of a fierce thunderstorm. The light sprinkling did not last long; the raindrops grew bigger and more frequent, and before anyone had time to react, the storm was upon them.

“Run for it, friends! For your lives! For queen and country!” Titus cawed at the top of his voice, and Lily looked up to see the entire party of animals running and flying straight toward her. She stood up, turned around, and ran too, more to keep from being trampled than anything else.

As Lily ran, hordes of moles, weasels, bats, and rooks sped past her, but no matter how fast she ran she couldn’t keep up with the crowd. The sky opened up in earnest and began to dump its entire store of water on the forest, and Lily and the animals careened toward the Rookery, but it was no use. By the time they reached the stream and the stone bridge, every one of them was drenched to the bone.