Maurice Minor’s Incredible Adventure

Maurice rested on a moss covered log by the water’s edge, taking in the natural beauty of the idyllic, tranquil scene before him.  As the early summer sun came up from behind the trees, the air began to warm, lifting the last of the morning mist to unveil a picture worthy of any Monet masterpiece.

A lone swan waterskied momentarily as it came in to land, large webbed feet skimming along the surface, slowing it gracefully, with the help of majestic outstretched wings, to a regal floating glide; a smooth wake fanning out behind it. Dragonflies divebombed in and out among the reeds, a blur of humming wings and turquoise luminescence;  hover flies hung suspended in the air before darting and jerking here and there suddenly like puppets on strings;  whirligig beetles spun round and round on the pond’s meniscus as if remote control toys operated by a toddler. Waterboatmen skulled past in coxless pairs, as skilfull as any Oxbridge oarsmen and pondskaters danced their sporadic Boleros.  Only the occassional rising bubbles rippling the otherwise unblemished mirror-glass surface hinted at the lives being played out in the aquatic world beneath – a world far more dangerous than Maurice could ever have believed, faced here with such apparent quiet calm and serenity.

“Don’t even think about it mate!”

Maurice nearly fell backwards off of the log, the sudden exclamation breaking the silence made him jump so.

 “I’m sorry?” he said. “Who’s there?”

“Brody” announced the chubby, grizzled little water vole, clambering up the muddy bank and into view on the glistening dew drenched grass at the top.  The way he said it suggested that no further explanation really ought to be necessary; as if Maurice should have somehow already heard of him and know exactly what his original outburst was supposed to have meant. 

“Oh, erm, I’m Maurice” said Maurice, still somewhat taken aback and not at all sure what his original outburst was suppoosed to have meant. “Don’t even think about what exactly?”

“Swimming across of course” he replied. “I’m a water vole.  Got my Junior Lifeguard Bronze Award and everything.  Strongest swimmer you’re ever likely to meet, that’s for by jiggerdy certain” he boasted “and even I wouldn’t chance it.”

“Oh, erm, right” said Maurice, a little confused.  He wasn’t even sure that he had ever  been considering swimming across in the first place but he was still curious to know more, especially now that the seed of the idea had been planted.

“Why not exactly?” he asked.

“Lucius” said Brody.  Again, he spoke as if this should be all the information that was needed on the subject.  Discussion over.  Maurice was starting to wonder if he did it on purpose.  He suspected that the vole liked the power of having all the answers and making him work for them.  Maybe it made him feel more intelligent or important in some way and made up for his tiny size – he was barely any bigger than Maurice, although was considerably more rotund.  Maurice still wanted to know more anyway so decided to humour him and play along regardless.

“What’s a Lucius?”

“Not what.” Brodie sighed . “Who!