mrsimple

This oneshot story was written sometime around X-mas of 2018 (ScribbleHub hadn't been officially opened yet), so this isn't exactly a new story.  It was shelved until there were enough other stories by various authors to add into a collective on another novel site.  When the short story collection had gone up, I saw that as an okay to upload this short here as well.  Enjoy.  :)

Raposa

by MrSimple

On a farm somewhere...

I zipped to the left --

-BANG-

-- immediately I skidded to a stop and dashed to the right!

-POW-

A miraculous jump away from the explosion of earth, and I was going left again! I was nearly across the field, to the hedges, and I'd be safe from the farmer.

All I had wanted to do was nibble on some eggs. Maybe take a few back and see if a lucky lady could snatch an egg from me. That would be a nice turn around, since they are always playing hard to get with me.

On that thought, those chickens wouldn't have minded anyways! They were infertile eggs! Those succulent white and rounded duds were just sitting there being pretty. So what was that farmer's problem if the hens had no issue?

He shouldn't either! Greedy, buck-toothed, no chin, rat hoarder!

Over my red furry shoulder, I chittered a yip at him. That man was luckily too busy reloading his shotgun to take advantage of my pause to laugh at him. Without pushing my luck further, I turned and darted directly inside of the hedge of bushes.

I shuddered as the prickly holly leaves ran over my soft fur, but I endured the scratches. For my sake, I'd have to tunnel through the prickly greenery to safely escape. If I were to bolt out the other side, he'd take a shot at me in the clear potato field.

A quick duck under the branches here --

-- a step over an overgrown root there --

-- moment to get my bushy red and white-tipped tail untangled... with a little 'grr.' And I was off to a better getaway than how I'd started in the henhouse. Excellent!

In fact, I began to prance through the bushes. A jittery laugh of excitement bubbled out of me between panting.

“What's so funny?” My muzzle turned straight down as I leaped over a mole. A talking mole?

I halted and whirled around to inspect the delicious looking snack. With a sniff, I detected nothing of the sort, as if the mole wasn't really there. Maybe I was hallucinating from hunger?

“Are you sniffing me?” I blinked as that cute little thing asked me that confusing question. Then I remembered how poor a mole's eyesight was. “If I were you, I wouldn't stop and contemplate if I'm safe to eat or not.” The tiny bundle of brown hair poked me on the nose with a diminutive clawed finger. “I'm not.”

As if to emphasize how unsafe it was to eat the mole, I heard the thunderous footsteps of the farmer walking along the hedges.

But my thin tummy growled...

Without a second thought, I scarfed the mole up into my mouth and spun back around to run for the hills!

“Gee whiz, you really ate me?” Right after the mole said that, I swallowed and licked my chops.

To have eaten something was a good boost to my morale for today. But it didn't feel so good in my tummy. The mole wasn't going to just roll over and take it.

Running while that tiny thing was skittering around in me was the worst possible feeling I've ever felt. My face screwed up into a worriedly funny expression until I had to stop and be sick.

“Ewwww! I'm soaked!” Right under my nose, that mole stood up on its tiny legs and glared up at me. “That was disgusting!”

“Yuck!” I lashed my tongue out a few times to get the sour bile from my stomach out of my mouth. “Yick!”

The light of the Autumn morning shone down on me for one split second --

-- a loud noise deafened me --

-- a force and mind numbing pain slammed into me an instant after --

-- and I had one more second to realize I was sprawled out in the potato field before a cold darkness enveloped my vision.

But then I could see again?

Slowly, I got up and looked around. I tilted my head to the side and turned my long black ears left and right to test my hearing. Whatever the noise was that had deafened me, I was fine now.

“I warned you!” The squeaky voice of the mole had me flatten my ears. That was louder and higher pitched than the deafening noise! “I told you it was unsafe to eat me! But did you listen?! NO!”

My attention trained on where the mole was supposed to be --

-- but instead an old lady crawled out from under the hedges? I backed immediately away --

-- and noticed a fox laid out in front of me. There was a nasty open wound across his flank. How did I miss him?

Seeing how freshly he'd been killed, I should've been able to pick up the scent of his blood. I was confused until the old lady crawled closer toward me.

“Stay put or you're going to fly off!” Despite how she spoke with the same voice as the mole, there was something else very odd about that old woman. For some reason, she continued to crawl rather than walk like a human?

When I shifted my focus down to her hands and knees, I saw the mole. They were moving together. As I watched and thought of the two, I scratched out my confusion and replaced it with crazy. A theory popped in my head: the mole was the old lady!

“Now see what you've done?” She nodded down at the dead fox. “Got yourself killed.”

...What? I stared at the mole-lady in utter disbelief.

She sighed in frustration. “If you hadn't gobbled me up... oh, you! YOU!”

Her wrinkly old lady face was all I could see as she instantly closed in on me.

She was huge!

As I shrunk down in fear, she said, “The only reason you are still here is because you swallowed a bit of my spirit.” Then she looked around herself, as if she was in search of something. It seemed, at last, she found it, and shrugged her shoulder to show the tiny scratch along her old skin. “See?”

Without the courage to challenge her, I frantically nodded my agreement.

She shook her head. “The last one to take a piece of me was this damn little mole.” Her hand smacked down on the ground, just like the mole did with an itty-bitty little clawed paw in mimicry of the lady. “And this nosy fool, oh, just because I've been forgotten by you all -- although it has been a really, really long time since I passed. That doesn't give this blind little bugger permission to dig in my dusty remains or excuse you for eating me!”

My ears perked up and I nearly jumped when I felt something pull me toward the old lady. I searched around the ground to see what was yanking on my paws, but saw nothing. Then I was tugged closer.

“Oh dear.” My attention drifted back up to the wrinkly old face of the lady. “Don't worry, I'm sure there will be someone around, but when you come to, get moving.” A more powerful tug later and I spun around to run from the pulling. “Oh, and don't run from anyone. Sweetie, trust me, you're hurt. They can help you.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I tried with all my might to race away from the invisible force pulling me. I began to cackle up at the lady for help, but she only watched.

A wave of the utmost worst pain in the world crashed against and washed over me. I cried out as I pumped my four legs with a boost of strength from the terror I felt.

“Sweetie, I'm so sorry. I really wish there was time to explain.” I looked over my red shoulder and saw the mole-lady backed away from me. She nodded down. “Remember, don't run from people. They can help.”

She nodded down once more and I followed her gaze --

-- to a child. There was a human kid laid down on their side where the dead fox used to be. And there was a nasty wound along the young one's side. Peppered with tiny little holes, but I saw movement from the body.

“Oh, I forgot how adorable I was at that age.” My eyes pinged off of the mole-lady, then ponged back onto the youngster.

As I was drawn closer, the child's chest raised before a heavy breath escaped --

-- and I breathed in again, as much as I could, before I screamed!

I curled up into a ball as the fiery pain in my side became my entire world. Kicking madly, even though I knew I was lying on the ground, I tried to keep running. When I breathed in again --

-- I screamed out in agony. Each breath I took brought back an inferno along my side.

“Who is that out there!? Hey! What are --” My eyes flew open when I heard someone yell.

From across the potato field, in the distance on the edge of the farm, coming out of the front door was a slightly younger lady than the mole-lady. If I recalled correctly, she was the potato farmer's wife. She'd never shown me any hostility, but I did remember her shooing me away once.

But now, she was running down her porch steps faster than I had ever seen any person run. And she was heading straight for me!

I tried to get up onto all fours, but I only managed to struggle onto my stomach. In desperation, I tried to crawl across the dirt toward the wall of holly bushes.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my -- hold on.” The sound of her voice had told me she was very close. “Peter! PETER!” She was screaming her head off.

At that screeching volume, his name would cut clear across the open field --

-- and I heard hollers from more than just one farmer.

In a frenzy, I tried to crawl away and reach the hedge. I wanted to hide, but every move I made hurt so much. I reached out a hand for the nearest bush --

-- and caught sight of the tiny mole looking up at me. She'd told me not run away.

My hand lingered in the air while I decided if I should trust a mole I had recently tried to eat. But then I belatedly realized something: I had a hand!

Not a paw, but a small human hand. I dropped my hand and laid very still.

A crowd of voices were over me before I felt something wrap me up --

-- and I screamed once more as I was lifted in the air. Someone cradled me, and that person was on the move. I bounced in their arms as they ran across the field to one of those huge and long trucks.

My sight dimmed for a split second, but I saw the farmer's wife open the back door to the truck before she got in. She turned to face us, both hands hurriedly waving at herself, and I knew whoever held me was passing me off to her.

Before the back door to the truck was slammed shut, I was laid across the seat and her lap. The moment I saw the potato farmer, Peter, get into the front to bring the truck roaring to life --

-- I passed out.

On a road somewhere...

A painful jump woke me. It felt like something had violently slipped and passed beneath me.

“Damn potholes.” Peter's voice. I blinked and turned to face the back of the front seat.

“Peter, she's awake.” My eyes drifted up to see the farmer's wife. “Shh, it's okay. We'll be there soon.”

“Meg? Has she said anything to you?” The farmer spoke, but the lady, I supposed her name was Meg, kept her green eyes trained down on me.

At once, I chittered my teeth together with a painful breath. I could feel her hands adjust more cautiously across my side before she pressed more firmly down on the wounds.

The whole truck jerked to a stop. Peter killed the engine and hopped out of the vehicle before the back door was swung open.

His hands carefully tucked themselves beneath me. Meg lifted me up, and Peter pulled me out into his arms.

I hadn't realized it before, but I saw someone else hop out of the bed in back of the truck. All of them were rushing me across some lot full of vehicles. Then into a tall standing building with pristine white walls.

“On the gurney.” Once I heard the new voice, calm and collected, I felt a new pair of hands exchange me to them. I was laid down on a soft and cushy slab that rocked a little.

Another, deeper, voice said, “I'll need you to sign --”

“-- please, this way.” And another voice with a smooth baritone. Losing count of everyone talking, I soon realized there were a lot more people inside of here.

Something pricked my arm, but I didn't flinch from it since I was already in so much pain.

There was some kind of clear and squishy bag hung up on a pole next to me. Then my arm felt cold... or rather, it felt like something cool was running through my arm. And gradually, I felt the chill throughout my body.

“Sweetie...” My focus centered on a woman in a strange blue uniform. “Don't be scared. I'm going to put this on.” She showed me a small clear, and warped, bowl. There was a string attached to it.

The blue lady gently lifted my head up and slipped the bowl to mask my face. An attachment, a tube, was clicked onto the bowl --

-- and I suddenly breathed in something funny. More than that, I felt the bedding beneath me soften, like clouds... and felt really fuzzy inside... and sleepy...

On a hospital bed somewhere...

I felt really groggy.

When I shifted, it felt like there was something sticking to my side. With my hand, I felt down along the side of my waist and hip. Crinkling noises came from what I touched. There was a large slick pad under a soft fabric of some kind, but I could guess the pad had adhered to me.

As I shifted a little more, I realized the bedding I was on had become much more comfortable. There was even a blanket of warmth over me.

...There was a blanket on me!

My eyes popped open and I scanned my surroundings. White and pristine, just like the building had been, but there were a number of colorful representations of animals painted across the walls and ceiling. Closer to me, a stand with blinking lights and a screen had long cords running from it --

-- and under my blanket? I took a peek under the sheets and saw that I had clothes on? But those cords disappeared into the gown I wore. With a hooked finger, I pulled up on my 'V' cut collar and saw flat, rounded, sticky things attached to me. A couple on my chest, and another pair on my shoulders. I gave a little tug on the cords coming from these cups, but they had an unexpected resistance when I tried peeling them off and the screen next to me made a strange noise when I did disturb them. Sticking them back on my chest calmed the screen back down.

But I counted five cords. Four that snaked under the blanket and my gown to those noisy stickers, and a clear one that disappeared under my nose... I wiggled my little nose and felt something stuffy. One sniff, and I discovered the cord forked to plug my snoz up. But I could breathe easy with it, so I left that cord alone too.

Then my attention drifted past my wrist. There was something stuck under my forearm. A longer cord, clear, and giving me the chills when I moved my arm. I wanted to take off, but when I touched it --

-- I realized that thing was in me. I'd been stabbed!

Just as I was about to yank the needle out --

“Good morning.” I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the calm and collected voice. “I'm Doctor Porter.”

There was a dark skinned man, which made him stand out in his full white uniform. He pleasantly smiled at me and approached the side of my bed where the stand holding that screen was.

“I think you could use some more rest, but there is someone who would like to ask you a few questions about what happened.” He looked down at me and asked: “You're in no trouble. She's a nice police officer here to find out how you were hurt.”

“Ah,” I said in a clipped tiny voice.

He leaned down and forward, held his open hand up for me to see he was unthreatening, and gently laid his palm on my forehead. His thumb dragged up one eyelid, then the other as he peered into my eyes one after the other.

His stunned expression was stuck. He looked at my eyes again before he stood straight back up.

“Your pupils...” Not saying any more, he just shook his head and walked to the door. Once he opened it, he called: “Officer Graham, I may have to ask you to wait --”

“Is she awake?” A dark uniformed woman opened the door fully and stood up taller than Doctor Porter. She glanced my way, back at the doctor, then did a double-take at me. After she warmly smiled at me, she said, “A couple of questions and I'll leave you be.” Before the doctor could do or say anything, she stepped past him while she asked: “She's okay to speak with me now, correct?”

Porter looked a little flustered, but settled when he looked my way. “Ah, yes, officer --”

“Good.” She looked over me and said, “I'm glad to hear that you are doing better.”

“Ah, ah-hah,” was my excitedly quick and jittery clipped response.

There was a small, restrained, laugh from her before she asked: “My name is Natalie Graham. May I know your name?”

My gaze went from her, to the doctor, and back to her again when I wasn't sure how to respond. I took a moment to contemplate how to respond. Maybe too long...

“Do you have a name?” As she asked me in a softer voice, she leaned a little to her side to look at me curiously. I looked at her --

-- then past her at one of the animals painted on the wall. A red fox.

I pointed at it.

Slowly at first, she turned with her eyes glued to me until she faced the wall. Looking back at me, she asked: “Fox? Your name is Fox?” I shook my head, but I pointed at the fox again.

I wanted her to understand... but how could I make her, or anyone, when I didn't even understand what happened? I was a fox. A male one, at that. But I'd heard enough people refer to me as 'she' to know that I'd transformed in more than one way.

The only one who knew what happened was that mole-lady. But I tried to do what I could and make these people understand what little I did know. I was a fox!

“Officer Graham?” Natalie looked away from me to see what the doctor had called her attention for. “She might be telling you what happened. I heard from the family that brought her in --”

“I'm aware.” I looked between the two talking to each other until she said, “The farmer next door said he shot a fox.”

“Ah! Ahahah!” I excitedly yelled and pointed at the surprised officer. For a split second, her expression became grim, but quickly masked it with a smile.

“Thank you.” She turned and nodded to the doctor --

-- but before she exited, the doctor said, “He might not have known she was in the bushes.”

“I've heard enough complaints from his neighbors about him treating his field like it's a shooting range, but how she was found...” She was silent for a few seconds. Then she looked back, smiled again, and waved at me, “Get well soon.” Then she turned and left the room.

...That was confusing. All I was trying to do was point out I was the fox that farmer was shooting at.

But she'd said, 'shot.' As in, that farmer had managed to hit me.

Then it dawned on me. The dead fox I'd seen with the nasty wounds, my wounded side. That farmer had shot and killed me! And somehow, that mole-lady brought me back to life as a human girl.

I had no idea what was going on, but once I could leave and find the mole-lady...

“Raposa.” My thought bubble burst, and my attention was brought back to the doctor still in the room. “For now, we'll call you Raposa. It's feminine, and it means fox.” When I didn't protest, he smiled at me and asked: “Thirsty or hungry?” In response to that, I nodded with incredible enthusiasm. He laughed and said, “I'll have someone bring you some refreshments.” He walked to the end of my bed and pulled out a clipboard, a pen from his pocket, and scribbled as he said: “Raposa... you're non-verbal, but I guess we'll find out what the CCSA can do.” After he placed the board back, he smiled and announced: “Your supper will be here soon.”

Then he too left...

I couldn't believe it! No need to poach or hunt? Hell yeah! I might not know what all had happened to me, but right now, I brightly smiled at the prospect of an easy meal. When had I ever been fed by people before? What little of their food I've had was euphoric, and that was what they had thrown out!

Paws down, people make great stuff!

Putting aside being shot, killed, and transformed into a little girl, maybe things weren't so bad after all? I kept smiling and enjoying the mysterious circumstances that brought me here... especially when the dish arrived!

My small feet were restlessly kicking the blanket up in excitement.

“Yipee!” When the door opened back up, and I caught sight of the trayed meal on wheels, I couldn't hold in my joy...

After a recovery, settling some legal matters, and back on a potato farm...

“Raposa!” Hearing my name, I froze. I'd got caught!

Over my shoulder, I glanced behind me at Meg. She walked up and knelt down by my side.

She asked: “What are you searching for?”

I looked back into the bushes, my hands a dusty brown from my hunt for the mole-lady... but I was losing hope of ever finding her after weeks of searching.

So I faced Meg, smiled, and giggled with guilt.

She smirked and said, “Just playing around?” Her gaze dropped down to my hands. “How about you play 'Pick the Potatoes' while it's still light out?”

Looking past her, I saw the others on the potato field. Peter was on his hands and knees, carefully unearthing his crop and placing them in a bucket. There were a couple of other much younger men with him, actually boys. The farmer's sons.

Their sons had a more difficult time harvesting the potatoes as carefully while I was with them, but I couldn't figure out why. I'd tried playing with them before and learned I could run and outwit them in almost every game we played. But when it came to laboring on the farm, they were more eager to show off when I happily dug in with them.

That tended to result in bruised or scrapped potatoes. From what I understood, that wasn't a good thing. So I yapped and gave the boys a playful smack anywhere I could reach if they started acting macho in front of me.

On a happier note, there was no more trigger-happy neighbor! No real idea what happened to him, but apparently a farmer who used his field for shooting instead of planting crops wasn't exactly welcomed around here.

My new family was happy to see him go bye-bye.

In any case, work or play, I ended my wildly fruitless hunting and joined a happily healthy company of farming...

mrsimple

Thank you for reading and hoped you liked it.  :)

 

Something I wanted to point out.  Any of the stories that state they came from a Mixed Tape were written within a word limit of 4k being the max.  So this story, among others, could have continued on or had more content describing the tale, but sacrifices had to be made for them and this to be permitted.  It is a lot like the SSSC, but not a contest.  Still, it was fun.  :D

 

Lemme know what ya thought.  ;)