Days 74-77: Desperate Measures

The next morning, Gabu’s leg was feeling only slightly better. This was a problem, because he was also getting hungrier day by day.

“I’ll get you some more of those berries,” Mei promised, and went to do so. When he returned, Gabu ate them up quickly before chewing his daily herbs, which tasted no better than they had the day before.

“Thanks, Mei,” Gabu said. “Are you going to Philosophy Day today?”

“Not today. I think I’ve had enough of philosophy for a while.” Gabu didn’t argue. In fact, he looked a little relieved that Mei would be there with him all day.

They did the same thing the day after that. Gabu tried to hide how hungry he was getting despite the berries, but Mei was all too familiar with the confused sideways glances that meant Gabu was struggling not to think of him as food.

Gabu kept trying to walk longer and longer distances, and he was succeeding, even if he still couldn’t put any weight on his left foreleg and had to hop everywhere. Any animal he successfully hunted like that would have to have a broken leg themselves. Despite the growing severity of the situation, Mei couldn’t help but find the thought of Gabu hopping after fleeing animals a little bit funny. He insisted it was nothing when Gabu asked what he was giggling about. Gabu, in turn, insisted whenever Mei broached the subject that the berries were enough to keep him fed, and that he could last another few days without eating meat. Neither of them believed it.

When Anything Day came around, Mei was worried that Gabu might accidentally eat one of the smaller animals who came near him. No one will notice one tiny mouse, right? Mei could almost imagine him thinking; after all, Gabu had almost eaten Mei’s ear that one time. That Anything Day was spent just chatting, no one wanting to suggest any physical activities that would exclude Gabu.

“He’s definitely getting thinner,” Mii commented. Gabu was elsewhere, talking to a couple of rabbits at the time.

“I don’t know what to do,” Mei said. “He won’t talk about it.”

“This is getting ridiculous. I’ll talk to him.” Mei was about to protest that it wouldn’t do any good, but then he remembered who he was speaking to.

When Gabu had finished his conversation with the rabbits, Mei watched as Mii walked boldly up to him and start talking. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, and he didn’t feel like joining in. He watched as Gabu became increasingly dismissive (in the charming, not too obnoxious way that he did) and Mii became increasingly frustrated with him.

She stomped back over to him. “You have got to do something.”

“What can I do?”

“Anything. Listen, if he isn’t eating a proper diet, the bone might heal wrong. He might never be able to run properly again. Mei, he might die.”

Mei blinked back tears. “Okay... I’ll see what I can think of.”

That night, while Gabu was sleeping fitfully, Mei snuck out of the cave. The meadow was bathed in a dim, ghostly white light from the half moon shining overhead. As he crossed over into the nighttime forest, he felt more alone than he had done in months.

Mei arrived in the very middle of the forest. No forest was ever silent at night, but they always felt empty. In fact, for many of the forest’s residents, perhaps most, this was the most active time. Rustles and chirps surrounded him on all sides. He couldn’t see anyone, but he knew they were listening.

“He’s dying,” Mei said loudly. “Gabu, he—he can’t hunt. He’s been eating nothing but berries for seven days now. If it goes on like this, he’s not going to make it. Please, I know that someone here knows someone who isn’t going to make it either, someone who might even want a quick and peaceful end. If he means anything to you—and believe me, he means the entire world to me—please help us out. We really need it.”

Mei waited and waited, but no one answered. Dejected, he walked back to Moonrise Hill, where Gabu was waiting for him, still asleep.

Later that night, there was a small sound at the mouth of their cave. Gabu awoke first. “Hello,” Mei heard him say. “Who are you?”

Mei got up fast. Standing there were five mice, two of them elderly, the other three middle-aged. One of the elderly mice looked like he was having trouble breathing.

Before they could say anything, Mei said, “Thank you so much for coming; I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to us. Can you excuse us for one moment?” He took the confused Gabu to the back of the cave. The mice didn’t say anything, but waited patiently at the cave mouth.

“Mei, what’s going on?”

“Gabu,” Mei looked him square in the eyes, “promise me that you’ll do what I ask you to do. No more deflecting.”

“But—”

“Promise me.”

Gabu looked over at the mice. Mei knew that he understood. “I promise.”

Mei walked back to the mice. Gabu stayed where he was. “I’m sorry about that. Please, come in. It’s awfully cold out tonight, isn’t it?” And, just in case they were worried about entering the cave, he added, “Nothing will happen until you’re ready.”

“It’s certainly a rough night,” the mouse who had been having trouble breathing said. “My name’s Morty. These are my wife and three adult daughters,” he said, indicating the four other mice. They all had tears in their eyes, but smiled kindly up at Mei. “We heard you were in need of some assistance, and as luck would have it, I’m able to provide.”

The reality of the situation was beginning to dawn on Mei. They’d ruled this out as a possible alternative to hunting months ago, thinking that no one would be willing to do it even if they were already dying. And yet, when Mei had asked, someone had come. “Thank you so much, I—”

“Eh, you already thanked me just a moment ago,” Morty interrupted. He looked at Gabu, who was watching quietly from the back of the cave. “Do I get to meet him first?”

Mei swallowed. “Go right ahead.”

Morty walked up to Gabu. The other mice stayed with Mei. “So, this is the wolf I’ve heard so much about. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

Gabu was on the verge of tears. “I honestly don’t know what to say. Are you sure you want to...”

“When you get to be my age, dying doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Besides...” he coughed suddenly, “...I don’t reckon I got much say in the matter in any case. Perhaps in the next life, you’ll do the same for me.”

Gabu nodded. It didn’t look like he could speak coherently if he tried.

Morty walked back over to the other four mice. He kissed his wife and hugged each of his daughters in turn. “Not much to say that ain’t already been said. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” they each said.

“Wait outside with them for me,” Morty said to Mei.

The mice looked up at Mei, and then to Morty. They seemed reluctant to follow him out. “It’s okay,” Mei said, “I don’t...” He almost said, “I don’t bite,” but stopped himself just in time. “I don’t think any of us wants to see this.”

They went outside, staring up at the sky, at the forest, anywhere but at the cave behind them. The four mice held each other tightly.

The last thing they heard was Morty’s cheerful, confident voice shouting, “Sayonara!” He pronounced it wrong.

The next morning, it was clear that both Gabu and Mei wanted to talk about the events of the previous night, but neither of them knew what to say. “That was...” Mei began but trailed off.

“Awful,” Gabu said. “I’ve never eaten anyone whose name I knew before, let alone someone who was just standing there, wanting me to do it.”

“I’m sorry to have put you through that, but you need to eat meat. Mii says you could be like this for the rest of your life if not.”

“Oh, no, I’m glad you did it, although I’m still not sure how you did it. It may be harder for me than hunting normally, but surely it’s better to eat someone who’s already dying, and who wants to be eaten, than to eat someone without asking them first?”

“I guess so. I honestly didn’t think anyone would come. How are you feeling now? With hunger, I mean.”

“A lot better. I think I can go another few days without eating meat again, although if anyone else comes to us, that would definitely help.” Mei wasn’t sure how much to believe Gabu about being able to last a few more days. Surely one mouse couldn’t keep him alive for that long?

Gabu resolved to spend the remainder of the day resting to conserve his energy. As was now the daily ritual, Mei walked alone to Waku Waku Hill and picked a fresh cluster of berries. The bushes that had once been so plentiful now looked noticeably sparser. On the way back, he collected Gabu’s herbs and returned with them to Moonrise Hill.

They received two further visits at separate times the following night: a shrew and a small bird. It was just as upsetting as the first time, perhaps more so since the shrew and the bird both lacked Morty’s easygoing attitude and were visibly afraid to die, even if it was already certain. Mei felt the need to check multiple times that they definitely wanted to go ahead with it and weren’t being unduly pressured into it. In the end, the bird changed her mind, much to the relief of her companions, and was carried back to the forest. From the look of things, Mei would be surprised if she survived the night.

It wasn’t enough. Back when Gabu had been eating regularly, a mouse and a shrew might have been enough to keep him going, at least in the short term. Now, though, when his body had been deprived of meat for so many days, one small animal a night wasn’t enough to undo the harm that had already been done. On top of that, Mei didn’t know how long people would keep coming for.