Bunny Bedlam

Prologue

Jesus the hamster slowly came out of his hibernated state. But it was dark. It was also cold and damp, even though he was wrapped in a dish towel. With teeth and claws he began to dig at the cloth. His two front teeth would sink in and he would rip a little hole in it. Sometime’s a piece of cloth would rip off. Jesus was hungry, real hungry, so he would eat the little piece of cloth. He kept chewing and ripping, but then dirt started to filter into his little fabric cocoon. With his long little claws, he started to dig at the dirt. Something instinctual told him that he was underground. It was also instinct that made him believe that he was headed up and not down. What he didn’t know or sense was that he had been buried alive.

Chapter 1 — Easterville

Jesus the Hamster had a family of humans. He called them his “food people”. His family lived in Easterville, New Jersey, a suburban nowhere land. The name had been changed from “Moscow” during the Cold War. At the time, the city fathers — there were no city mothers — decided that they needed to have an “angle”. One of them had been to Christmas, Florida while vacationing in Orlando and vicinity. He suggested that the town rename itself “Easterville”. Then the motto emerged “Where it is springtime all year ‘round”. So it became Easterville by a unanimous vote. Some of the people in the next town over call it “Beigeville”, because all of the new McMansions going up in Easterville are the same color.

All this was lost on Jesus the Hamster because his world is a cage, with a running wheel, all of it sitting on a table in a little girl’s bedroom. The room is painted pink with white trim. The décor is “Euro-Princess”. It has a white dresser and vanity and a four-poster canopy bed with a pink canopy and bedspread. On the wall is a poster of the Disney princesses. In the corner is a large woven basket piled with stuffed animals. Over that, a net has been pinned up in the corner. It holds more stuffed playthings. The little girl is Jesus’ favorite food people.

Jesus doesn’t know that Easterville itself and most of the houses are pretty much cages also and that many of the people spend much of their time on something like a running wheel. Every day, people get up, bustle around the kitchen, yell at the kids and each other, then they go out to the garage, push a button, the garage doors roll up and off they go. Well, not quite. They still have to go over several speed bumps and then slow down while the automatic gate at the single entrance to the neighborhood opens up. To get back in, each car has a code pasted on the back driver’s side window. Visitors have to queue up in a long line and show their driver’s license to a heavy-set guard. Sometimes, at random, the guard calls the home they are supposed to be visiting, causing an even longer line. All this also contributes to the cage concept.

This isn’t exactly air-tight security. Anyone can walk in or ride a bike in on the sidewalk. One set of clever burglars used lawn mowing equipment with a wagon attached to the back of the tractor to haul out flat-screened TVs, silver, and jewelry.

The residents spend the day on one kind of brain-numbing running-wheel or another. When they return, the garage doors open again, and they drive in — just like Batman entering the Batcave in the Batcar at the end of a Batday.

For this reason, it is possible not to even know your neighbors, even if they live next door. You never really have to see them. If you, by chance, do see them, you don’t have to talk to them. For this reason, no one knows what is going on at 1313 Lois Lane and no one wonders how the three young men that live there can afford the nice house and the expensive cars they drive.

The older part of Easterville is a Hispanic community. The town had attracted a chicken-processing plant and many Hispanic families moved in to find work there. These houses had also started out looking pretty much the same. They were built to house new families after World War Two. Through the years, additions and porches and different paint jobs have given each one a more unique look.

Unlike the McMansions, which are situated on curving lanes with cul-de-sacs; these older neighborhoods are laid out on a strict, north-south, east-west grid. Alleys run behind the houses, parallel to the streets. The kids all play in the alleys until the adults start arriving home. The garages are on the alley. As folks come home and walk to the house through back yards that are only forty feet wide, they greet neighbors who were doing the same thing. You can hear Spanish and English and combinations of the two up and down the block.

The mayor of Easterville owns several of the houses in the Latin neighborhood. He had seen the whole thing coming, of course. He got his inside information from holding his distinguished office and also from holding a local realtor, Jackie Pataki. Known or unknown to their spouses, the two had become an item. Jackie had run the mayor’s last four election campaigns. Her hair was dyed blonde and she had high cheek bones, a huge lower jaw, big teeth and an under-bite that gave her a kind of skeletal look. Her husband was a fat-boy insurance agent that voted for the other candidate in the last election.

Jackie had gone door to door in the older neighborhoods and spread the word that the Hispanics were coming. She left behind her business card. The card was magnetic, and most of the white folks put it up on their refrigerator for later. They were soon calling her to list their properties and she gave the mayor the first opportunity to buy. He had been able to snarf up several of the properties cheaply before the plant was even built. Then he was able to buy a few more when Latinos started moving in and more anglo folks started moving out. Between him and his other realtor colleagues, they had kept the Latinos out of the newer neighborhoods. He had done well charging just a little more rent than workers at the plant could afford and then doing little to improve or maintain the properties. That is how he was able to buy the new house at 1313 Lois Lane and several others.

He didn’t live at 1313 Lois Lane, he was renting it to a few of his son’s high school friends who were still hanging around town. Actually, he wasn’t really renting it, he just expected a share of whatever profit they were making. He calls them Hughie, Dewey, and Louie. He knows their real names, but thinks it best not to use them during phone conversations. There aren’t many of those, because things are rolling along very smoothly, and the boys are good at seeing that the mayor gets his cut.

The “food person” that Jesus likes the most is a little six year old girl named Cissy. Ever since he was a mite, she would open his cage door and scoop him out with her hand. Then she would hold him gently and stroke his head. When he runs around in his wheel, she claps her hands and cheers him on. She also is the one who brings him special treats. She sticks them through the bars of his cage and giggles when he takes them from her little fingers with his two long front teeth and his two front paws. A large version of her comes and feeds him, fills his water bottle, and cleans his cage. But she doesn’t pay him any attention, she just mutters something as she does these chores.

Chapter 2 — House-sitter from Hell

Spring break was coming up and Jesus’s food people had plans to take a little vacation down to the Florida panhandle. They had rented a condo a couple blocks from the beach. But someone had to feed Jesus while they were gone. Hamsters have a fast metabolism and they need to be fed and watered every day. The problem was, the big female food person hardly knew any of the neighbors, and didn’t know any of them well enough to ask them for a favor.

She was coming home from the grocery store in the minivan. Her husband, the male food-person, had taken Cissy to the Mall to see the Easter Bunny. When she came by 1313 Lois Lane, she saw a young, chubby guy get out of a shiny Pontiac Firebird. It was parked in the driveway which already held two other expensive cars. It looked like a party, or else no one was using the Batcave. She stopped and rolled down the window.

Huey looked over. She didn’t look bad for a older woman — a “cougar”- he thought. He walked over and leaned in the passenger side window. She saw that he had a few days of beard growing. He was wearing a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and she could see his tattoo. It was some sort of bushy, leafy green plant on his upper arm.

He affected a southern drawl: “Howdy ma’am. You need directions or somethin?”

“No. We live two doors down. How would you like to make a few bucks?”

Huey didn’t need a few bucks. He and his friends had plenty of money and more where that came from. But he liked the looks of this woman: long, straight brown hair, brown eyes. She wore glasses, but that just made her eyes look bigger. A slight over-bite made her look younger. Two large front teeth were almost bunny-like. Her sweater had a high neck line but it was tight and he could see that her breasts were riding up there nice and high.

“Well, what did you have in mind?” The drawl again and he couldn’t resist smiling a creepy sort of smile. She was taken back a little bit.

“We are going a way for a few days and we need someone to feed our little girl’s hamster and keep an eye on the house. No big deal. He just needs a spoonful of food each day and his water bottle needs to be filled. Can you come over right now and take a look?”

“Sure, I ain’t doin’ nothin’.” More affected southern drawl.

He followed her car a couple doors down. The house was almost the same as the house Huey and his friends were living in. All the houses in the neighborhood were pretty much the same inside and out. She opened the garage door, drove in, but left it open so that Huey could follow her through the door that led into the house.

“I’m going to give you one of the garage door openers so that you can come in this way.” She said. She didn’t want to trust him with a key or give him the code to the garage door. When this was over, she didn’t want to be neighborly with this moron.

“Cissy’s room is down the hall. That is where Jesus is.” She was pointing.

“You named your hamster Jesus?”

“Cissy did. She goes to Sunday School with a friend occasionally. For a while, all she could talk about was Jesus, it was annoying. Well, that is what she named him.”

By now they were in the little girl’s room. The hamster cage was up on a table. Jesus was sticking his pink nose through the bars hoping for a treat.

“We keep his food under the table here. He only needs a about a tablespoon of pellets everyday. Cissy gives him the treats, but you don’t have to.”

“I think I’ve got it.” Huey knew that the master bedroom was off the living room on the other side of the house. No way to finesse her into going over there. But he didn’t move. He just looked her over from bottom to top, stopping at her chest.

She shivered a little at this creepy stuff. “So that’s it,” she said. “We will be gone 10 days…until Good Friday. I’ll pay you $100 just to come over and keep an eye on Jesus, and also make sure that everything at the house is OK.” She left the room and walked quickly to the door leading to the garage. He watched her walk.

“Here is a garage door opener for you to use. Thanks.”

“Glad to help you ma’am, and…uh…nice to meet you too.” A drawl and a leer. Huey walked out the big garage door. His blue jeans were slipping down a little bit in back.

“Say no to crack!” she thought to herself.
As soon as he cleared the threshold, she pushed the button that shut the garage door.

Kind of creepy. She shuddered. But Jesus will be alright. It is just ten days.

At the mall, Cissy and her dad were waiting in line to see the Easter Bunny. The line stretched back and forth between rows of barriers that consisted of free-standing posts with black nylon-type ribbons stretched between them. The Easter bunny was sitting on a giant mushroom that was in front of a façade that was designed to look like a house shaped like a teapot. It had a window with a flower box that had fake flowers in it. The tea-pot house was painted yellow.

While standing in the slow-moving line, Cissy’s dad was trying to figure out what the mushroom and the tea-pot house had to do with Easter, why Cissy needed to see the Easter Bunny (All he did was take kids on his lap, promise them lots of Easter Eggs and then give them a little bag of jelly beans.), what kind of creepy guy got a job as a mall Easter Bunny, why the town had called itself Easterville, and why he had gotten married and moved there. (Actually, he knew why he had gotten married: her big brown eyes, the over-bite, the nice chest and the two large bunny-like front teeth.)

Finally, it was Cissy’s turn to go and sit on the Easter Bunny’s lap. She was really excited and she started asking the Easter Bunny all kinds of questions: “Do rabbits really lay eggs? Where do you get the eggs? How can you be in so many places at one time? Do you have helpers? Is there a Mrs. Easter Bunny?”

While she was doing this, she was wriggling around to look up into the wire mesh mouth of the Easter Bunny, which is what enabled him to breathe and look out. She wasn’t facing forward so that his assistant, dressed as a giant carrot, could take a picture to sell to her dad at an inflated price. So he tried to turn her around, but she was wiggling so much that she slipped off his furry lap and fell on her little butt. Her little yellow Easter dress had turned up around her waist and one could see her little pink Easter panties.

Cissy’s dad lost his cool. “Hey! What the fuck? Why did you drop my daughter on her ass, you stupid shit!” He gave the bunny a shove on his furry shoulder. The back of the bunny’s plastic head bumped up against the window box on the yellow tea-pot house.

“Back off, you big gringo jerk!” The bunny stood up and pressed the wire mesh bunny head mouth up against the dad’s face. Then he gave him a head butt. Then he bent over to pull his bunny-head off. Cissy was sitting there crying, but while the bunny was doing this, the dad kicked him in the ass. The bunny staggered, but stayed on his feet — or his paws. But then he pulled off his bunny paw gloves and went after the dad. The two of them were both yelling unintelligible grunts and groans in English, Spanish and Spanglish as they engaged.

The dad got the bunny in a head-lock with one arm and started to pommel his face with the opposite fist. Meanwhile the bunny reached between the dad’s legs, grabbed a handful and squeezed. More unintelligible yelling as the dad let go of the headlock and grabbed his junk and blood ran down the bunny-man’s face and stained the rest of his white fur.

By this time the mall cop had arrived and stood between them. “The police are coming, so just stay where you are.” The dad had finally noticed Cissy. He picked her up and held her. Over his shoulder you could see the terror in her wide-open eyes.

The police did come. They questioned the bunny and the dad and then used their radio to have someone run their names. As it turned out, Juan Rodriquez Hernandez Diaz had a warrant out for skipping jury duty. Cissy’s dad was clean and white and so they let him go. Juan was charged with assault and disorderly conduct and taken to the city jail.

Chapter 3 — Rabbit Ransom

Huey, Dewey and Louie drove down Fourth Street, which was the heart of the Latin neighborhood. There was a restaurant named “El Burro” (Mexican Food) and a grocery store named “Bueno” (Spanish-style groceries) and that is about it. The rest of the storefronts were empty, owned by Mayor McCheese. (That is what the boys liked to call him.)

Two nice looking Latina girls were walking along the sidewalk. Their shorts were blue jean cut-offs. They were cut so short, the lining of the front pockets showed along with a generous bulges of their coffee and cream back buns. Louie hung half-way out the passenger side window and called out. “Hey, chica, chica!” The girls just kept walking. They stared at their cell phones and ignored the boys.

From the porch of their house, Jorge and his friends saw and heard the gringo boys harassing the girls. They silently watched the Dodge Charger go by. They knew who these boys were, what they did, and who they were connected to — Mayor McCheese of course. Jorge and his friends were occasional customers of the largest marijuana growers and distributors in the state. They also knew that McCheese was the slumlord that owned most of the houses in their neighborhood and that he was just sitting on his ass while the whole place ran downhill.

They had their own plan for Easter. Every year the city rolled out an eight foot tall Easter bunny named Bugsy and set him up in front of city hall. It was made out of some kind of stuff that compounded paper, and clay, and burlap. Every now and then it had to be repaired. It was expensive and there was always a fund drive to repair Bugsy. But people considered him a beloved mascot and always came up with the money. This endeared him even more.

About a week before Easter, Clyde, one of the city maintenance men hauled Bugsy out of a shed, dusted him off, hooked Bugsy’s trailer up to his pick-up and towed him down the street to his place of honor in front of city hall. Bugsy would sit there on his trailer and hold up his giant carrot until Easter was just a memory. Then someone would get the notion to put him away for another year.

The four amigos waited until it was about 3am. The bars had closed and Main Street was quiet. Jorge and his friends cruised down the street in their vintage Ford F150 pickup truck. It was not a wreck, they had spent time on this baby, doing the body work, fixing the engine and giving it a new paint job. They had kept the rather rusty towing package on the back.

They pulled up in front of City Hall, taking it slow and easy. The passenger door opened and Jorge got out. Two more friends slipped to the ground from the truck bed. They lifted the tongue of Bugsy’s trailer, slipped the cap over the ball of their towing hitch, and tightened it down.

The two friends stepped on the tongue and hoisted themselves back into the truck bed while Jorge got back in the passenger seat. The truck was already rolling when he pulled the door shut.

They took Bugsy to a garage owned by Jorge’s cousin. Jorge found a saw and cut off the top of Bugsy’s carrot. Yes, now that it no longer had a leafy green stem, it looked like part of Bugsy’s anatomy. Someone found a box and they wrapped the thing in newspaper and put it in there. Another had cut out letters from a magazine. With paper and Elmer’s glue they spelled out this message:

If you want to ever see Bugsy again

you must dress up as Humpty Dumpty for the Easter egg hunt

They addressed the note to the mayor and left it and the box on the back stoop of City Hall.

Mayor McCheese had Jackie Pataki bent backwards over his desk. Her mini-skirt was pulled up and his pants had been pulled down. His bad comb-over, died blonde, had been messed up by her hands, but he still was wearing his suit coat, white shirt, and long red tie. Her panties were laying on the floor. There was a knock on the door.

“Don’t come in, I’m busy!” McCheese shouted. Then he grunted.

“Mayor, I think you need to see this.” It was Clyde, the maintenance man.

“No I don’t!”

“He doesn’t need to see this.” Jackie whispered, pushing him away and pulling down her skirt.

“OK. Just a minute.” The mayor pulled up his boxer shorts and his pants, tucked in his shirt and straightened his tie. He didn’t notice that his long tie was caught it in his zipper. He went to the door and unlocked it.

“Clyde, what is it that just can’t wait?” Clyde was holding an open cardboard box. Inside was Bugsy’s sawed-off carrot and the note. McCheese looked at it. Clyde looked at the tucked in tie.

“Jesus, what is that?”

“It’s Bugsy’s,” Clyde was upset, “It’s…it’s his carrot.” He hung his head. Clyde had become fond of the paper-mache bunny over time.

“OK, Clyde, I’ll deal with this.” By now the mayor’s carrot had wilted.

The phone was buzzing on the Mayor’s desk as Clyde left, but not before he spied the panties laying there. The mayor dreaded answering the intercom. The last City Council meeting had been a real pain in the ass. The alderman from the new development was whining about the proliferation of rabbits in the neighborhood. But that wasn’t all. These rabbits were rabid or something. You couldn’t scare them away. They would barely move. When they did, it was to snuggle up with each other or eat something. Most of the flowers around the houses had been chewed off and now they were working on the stems. All the rabbits were overweight. Some of them just laid around on their backs staring at the sky. The mayor had said he would have Clyde look into it, and then he had forgotten all about it.

He answered the phone anyway and was relieved at first that it was from the manager at the mall. Then he heard about the attack of the Easter Bunny and started to worry about the bad publicity.

“Jesus, Mary, Joseph! Can’t folks just get along?” He asked Jackie. She had picked up her panties, but she had not put them on. She had them wadded up and was holding them in her fist. This got him aroused again. In her other hand, she held her cell phone. She could speed type with one manicured finger. That also aroused him.

“We didn’t get to finish.” McCheese was saying. “You really get me going.” She continued to read her phone and type.

“Is that some kind of real estate deal?” She continued to stare at the phone and poke it with her thumb.

“Did you know I plan to divorce my wife?” She didn’t react. More staring and typing. McCheese’s carrot had wilted again. He opened his office door, walked through and slammed it shut. What a rude little bitch. Where am I going to get a Humpty Dumpty costume?

As it turned out, it wasn’t really that hard for the mayor to dress up like Humpty Dumpty. He was eventually able to get Jackie’s attention away from her cell phone and get her to help him. Underneath his bad comb-over, the mayor was virtually bald. He also had a big head. His neck was short and wide. He had a fat round back and an equally round belly. All they really had to do is put him in a tuxedo shirt with a high collar and a bow tie. He owned red suspenders. All he needed was a pair of huge blue knickers that they could stuff until they made his flat ass look like the rounded bottom of an egg. Once he was dressed up, he kind of liked it. So did Jackie. She was a little twisted.

Chapter 4 — Dead and Buried

Huey dutifully fed Jesus all weekend. He also spent some quality time rummaging through the drawers in the master bedroom. Victoria’s Secret, my favorite. On Sunday he hit the jackpot: bras and panties in the dirty clothes hamper.

Then Monday came. He got busy back at 1313 Lois Lane. He got high for a few days. Before he knew it, it was Friday. Good Friday. He woke up with a start:
“Jesus!” I forgot all about him! Joseph and Mary and the little brat will be coming home today!” He pulled on his jeans over his flabby butt. He picked up a T-shirt off the floor, sniffed it, and put it on. Where the fuck is that garage door opener? He rummaged in the bedside table for a bit and then spied it under the bed. He hooked it on his jean pocket and went out the door.

Huey was not the kind of person that prayed, unless you can call the thoughts that you think while wanting to save your own ass a kind of prayer. Well, come to think of it, that is the kind of prayer most of us pray. He was hoping that little Jesus was still OK, but mostly so that he could get somewhere later with his female keeper.

He went two houses down and pushed the button on the door opener. Nothing happened. “Jesus” he said again, under his breath. More praying, sort of. He was talking about the Bible Jesus, not the hamster and definitely not one of the Latino guys who lived across town.

“Batteries?” He tapped on the device and tried it again. “Shit!” He hussled back to his house at 1313. Against house rules, he punched in the code for the garage door. The door rolled open. Rows of raised wooden planters filled the garage. There were pink-toned fluorescent grow lights hanging from the rafters. Each box had several flourishing marijuana plants. On one section of rafters other mature plants were hung up to dry. Some of the buds were ready to be harvested.

Huey went to a workbench along the wall. There were tools and trowels and watering cans strewn all over the bench. He found a little flashlight, unscrewed the part that held the light bulb and shook out two AA batteries. These should work. He picked up a screw driver and pried the back off the garage door opener, popped the batteries out and put the new ones in.

“Dude! What are you doing?” It was Dewey. “Why the fuck did you open the garage door? Want to tell the world about us?” Dewey was stoned, and he took a mental break to wonder why that part of the house was called a “garage” rather than a “car-age”.

“It’s Jesus.” Huey said. “I need to feed him. I forgot all about him this week. Those folks are coming home today.”

Dewey laughed, “Well you are up a shit crick aren’t you? Wait, I will go with you. But first, let’s have a little eye-opener.”

They closed the garage door and went back into the kitchen. Dewey had been rolling a few joints. These looked good, he had lots of practice. They smoked one or two or maybe three of these and headed down the block.

Standing in front of Jesus’ food people’s house, Huey pushed the button on the garage door opener. It seemed to take a long time to push the button and an even longer time for nothing to happen.

“These batteries are good. I tried the flashlight first! Fuck!”

“Gimme that!” Dewey grabbed the opener. He pulled off the back. “You have the batteries in backwards! Dumb ass.” Dewey changed them around, pushed the button, and the garage door rolled open.

They went in through the kitchen. Dewey stopped to look in the refrigerator. He grabbed a beer, screwed the cap off, and took a long slug. The beer foamed up over the lip of the bottle and ran on the floor. He put his mouth on it.

“Don’t make a mess,” Huey complained, “They’re coming back today. The room is down here.

They went down the hallway to Cissy’s room. Jesus was laying on his side on the bottom of his cage. His eyes were closed.

“Shit! He’s dead!” Huey opened the door and picked up Jesus with a gentleness that surprised Dewey. Everything seemed a bit surreal and he knew why. Huey rubbed Jesus on the chest. Nothing. He tried to pry his little lips open, but just revealed tightly closed teeth. “Aw…come on buddy!”

“Well, now you’ve done it.” Dewey was laughing again. “Dude, we have to bury him. Just tell the folks that you were cleaning the cage and he ran away.”

“Uh..OK. That’s what we’ll do. But let’s be nice about it.” They carried Jesus into the kitchen. Huey pulled a dish towel off of a rack and wiped up the beer on the floor.

“Let’s wrap him in this. We should bury him in our patch. We can’t do it here.”

Huey rummaged around in a kitchen drawer and found a black permanent marker. He ripped off a few paper towels and wrote this note in big letters:

I AM SORRY, BUT ONE DAY

WHEN I WAS CLEANING HIS

CAGE, JESUS RAN AWAY.

I DON’T KNOW HOW HE GOT

OUTSIDE,

BUT JUST YESTERDAY

WE SAW HIM RUNNING

THROUGH THE NEIGHBORHOOD.

IF HE DOESN’T COME BACK

I WILL BUY YOUR DAUGHTER

A NEW HAMSTER JUST LIKE HIM

YOU CAN TELL HER THAT HE

CAME BACK.

Huey sat the door opener on the paper towel. Then he picked it up again, pried it open and took out the batteries. Then he put it back. Dewey left his beer bottle on the counter. The two left the kitchen through the door to the garage. They pushed a button on the wall and tried to hop over the infra-red sensors before the door came down. Dewey succeeded. Huey didn’t and the door went back up. He had Jesus wrapped up in the towel.

“Give him to me and go back and push the button again, dufus!” He was standing on the driveway just outside the garage door opening. He looked up and down the street to see if anybody could see them. There was no one, not even kid’s playing, although they had all week off from school. Huey came running and leaped higher than he needed to in order to clear the sensors. What a moron. Why do we keep him around?

They carried Jesus in his little swaddled bundle back to 1313 Lois Lane. They walked between their house and the house next door to a gate in the eight-foot wooden fence that encircled the back yard. Dewey reached over and flicked a latch that held the gate shut. The back yard was all garden. That is, it was all one big marijuana patch with a few tomato plants here and there to make it look like they were growing vegetables.

“There’s one of those damn rabbits!” Huey picked up a clod of dirt and threw it at a fat bunny that was nibbling on one of the plants. The little animal seemed oblivious and kept nibbling. Huey ran at it with a roar and it hopped into the middle of the patch without a lot of enthusiasm.

“That did a lot of good,” Dewey laughed. “They like our stuff — what is the harm?”

Dewey went to an aluminum shed, banged open the door and got out a shovel. In a bare corner of the patch, he dug a shallow hole.

“Put the thing in here, asshole. Do you want to say a few words? Some kind of rodent rest in peace?”

Huey laid Jesus, wrapped in his shroud, in the hole. He took the shovel from Dewey and covered the bundle with dirt, tamping it down with the blade of the shovel.

“Uh…ashes to ashes…dust to dust…what comes next?”

“Who cares? Put the shovel away. When the folks come home we will back up your story. Tell them we spotted him running through the neighborhood.”

After the boys went into the house, dozens of rabbits emerged from the middle of the marijuana patch. They were moving kind of slow.

Chapter 5 — Wheel of Fortune

Jorge, Jose, and Julio had gone downtown and bailed Juan out of jail. Now they were in Jorge’s living room watching Wheel of Fortune. Jorge, Jose, and Juan were all seated at a butt-sprung upholstered couch. Julio was in a beat up leather chair. The back and seat were covered with a blanket from Mexico. If he had not been sitting there, an image of an eagle with a snake in its beak would have been visible in the midst of the red, white, and blue stripes. The fellows were passing a bowl of dope.

“This is lame,” Jose was antsy rather than mellow. “They don’t show us the puzzle long enough to solve it.”

“Yeah,” Juan chimed in. “And Senor Sejack looks like he should have a Mohawk. He should just shave the sides off and leave all that hair in the middle.”

“But Vanna is alright” Julio insisted. “She’s still pretty hot for an old lady.”

“If your so bored, How would you guys like to do some mesc?” Julio had a couple buttons of mescaline left.

“That stuff doesn’t do anything for me.” Jose said. “All I see is different colors.”

“It scares me,” Juan took a couple sips from his Budweiser and wiped his mouth. “I heard it can make you crazy — jump out a window like you can fly or something.”

“Why don’t you guys just find something else to do.” Jorge suggested. “Go find your own beer and dope and leave me here with my girl Vanna.

Chapter 6 — Good Friday

Jesus’ food family came home on Good Friday. They didn’t come home to go to services at Easterville Community Church, they came home to go to the “World’s Largest Easter Egg Hunt” in the city park on Holy Saturday. The Easter Egg Hunt was put on by the Junior Chamber of Commerce. They raised money for it all year by having bins all over town for people to recycle their empty beer and pop cans. They redeemed the metal by the ton and had enough money to promise every child a bushel basket of cream eggs.

The food family drove through the gate at the entrance to their development when it opened and drove to their house on Lois Lane. The father reached up and pushed a button on the car’s sun visor. The garage door rolled open. A light came on. He drove the car into the garage. He pushed the button on the visor and the door rolled shut.

As soon as they unbuckled her car seat, Cissy was out the door and heading to her room to see Jesus. They weren’t even out of the garage when they heard her screaming.

The food parents were able to calm Cissy down enough to get her to go to sleep. She still had tears on her face.

“That idiot!” The mother said when the couple regrouped in the kitchen. “I should have known better than to trust that creep.” The food father picked up the half-empty beer bottle.

“He must have been having a beer when Jesus escaped. Probably didn’t shut the door.”

“Probably. And the cage doesn’t look that clean. But…not a bad idea: finding a replacement hamster. We can just say that Jesus came back. She won’t be able to tell.”

The couple went to bed. At about 2 a.m. a late model Ford pickup truck pulled up to the curb on the street just outside the development’s gate. It parked just out of sight of the little guard kiosk. Two men got out of the cab and another two handed them one end of a giant paper mache and burlap bunny. They rested the bunny’s head on the tailgate as they climbed down. Then all four hustled down the sidewalk and into the gated community carrying Bugsy the Rabbit.

“That gringo’s address is 1317 Lois Lane. It was in the police report.” Juan whispered. “Maybe they will arrest him for kidnapping.” He tried not to laugh out loud. They scurried up the main road until they saw the street sign for Lois Lane. The neighborhood was dark and quiet. They came by 1313.

“Hey, nice wheels. Those cars look familiar.”

When they got to 1317, they went up the driveway and around the back of the house.

“I think this is the master-bedroom window.” Julio had been in a few of these houses while they were being built. He had a nice supply of ripped-off tools and copper wire to show for it. They set Bugsy down and propped him up so that he was looking in the window. Then they quietly left “Beigeville” and drove back to their own hood.

Cissy’s mom was upset enough with herself that she was having trouble sleeping. She tossed and turned for a while and then she gave up and sat on the edge of the bed. She saw a shadow at the window. She shook her husband awake. He saw it too and dialed 911.

There was a light knock on the front door of 1317 Lois Lane. Cissy’s parents had seen the police cruiser pull up outside and two officers going around either side of the house with their guns drawn. But they didn’t hear anything until the knock on the door. The food father opened the door with his wife looking over his shoulder. Two policemen stood on the front stoop. In between them was Bugsy the Bunny. The officers were trying to look serious, but the corners of their mouths kept turning up and they kept looking down at their shoes.

“We’re going to take Bugsy downtown and book him.” One said. “Thanks folks, the city will be glad to have him back. He must have escaped from his kidnappers.” They each grabbed an arm of the critter. They carried him to squad car and made a show of being careful with his head as they loaded him in the back seat. He was too large, so they let his ears stick out the window. As they drove down town, they got the station on the radio and called in a description:

The perpetrator is about six feet tall, yellow shirt, blue and white check trousers, carrying a green rucksack. He has long ears and big buck teeth.

Then they took Bugsy to City Hall and set him up in his usual time-honored spot. Proud to be here, pleased to serve.

Chapter 7 — Egg Hunt

Clyde and his crew arrived at the city park early Saturday morning only to find it practically covered with fat, slow moving rabbits. They tried to shoo them away by walking towards them in a line and clapping their hands together. The rabbits barely moved. They just looked at them. Their pupils looked even larger than normal. Finally the boys went back to the service shed and returned with several riding lawn mowers. The grass needed cutting anyway. They lined up and started to herd the crowd of bunnies. They had to slow down because the bunnies seemed confused and didn’t move very fast. Instead of running, some of them were more like rolling away. Eventually the bunnies all sort of tumbled into this ravine.

Clyde and crew cordoned off the field into three sections so that the kids could hunt by age group. A truck arrived containing 7500 cream eggs wrapped in foil and another 2500 plastic eggs filled with candy. The crew used golf carts and gators to spread the eggs out over each section. Before they left, Candy Kornmesser, the event organizer arrived to look things over.

“Looks good, Clyde.” She snapped her gum. “Beautiful day, great egg hunt — though they are easy to find.” A laugh. “I don’t see what could go wrong.”

Later that day, Jorge, Julio, Juan, and Jose were sitting around at Jesus’ place waiting for Wheel of Fortune to come on. Right now it was the local news. They were staring with at least a little bit of interest as Carol Connely, an anchorwoman with long blonde hair, black roots, and big eyes, read the news:

Easter Egg Hunt Goes Awry

It was more than just a few bad eggs. A free Easter egg hunt that was supposed to be a fun event for children turned into chaos on Saturday as unruly parents stormed the field, pushing, shoving and even stealing children’s candy from their baskets, outraged parents and organizers say. “The parents just bum-rushed that area,” Juanita Juanita told local news station WNJ-TV of the scene at city park in Easterville. “When my son left, he had a broken basket and was hysterically crying.” The event coordinator, Candy Kornmesser said that city employees had spread more than 10,000 eggs across three fields that were sectioned off per age group. Before kids had a chance to start hunting, however, parents were racing on the field to gather up the candy-filled eggs apparently so their children would be sure to have some.. “So we started talking to people and saying, ‘Hey, this is supposed to start at a certain time,’” Kornmeser told WNJ. “Well, that lasted about a minute and everyone just rushed the field and took everything.” Many other parents expressed their outrage on the city’s Facebook page, and claimed their children left empty-handed. Joe Tabasco posted that his 4-year-old grandson was trampled and that adults raided his basket. “It was like a f riggin riot,” he added. Kornmesser said her volunteers brought out extra supplies when they realized there wasn’t enough candy for everyone, and that they set up stands to help distribute them to people who didn’t get any eggs. The mayor of Easterville intends to apologize on air for the chaos. I think we have live video ready right now:

The mayor appeared behind a battery of microphones dressed in a high-collared tuxedo shirt, a bow tie, red suspenders, baggy blue knickers, yellow socks and black wingtips. His eye brows had been painted in dark arches.

“All right!”Jorge pointed at the TV “Check out McCheese! He must not know that Bugsy has been returned to city hall!” The amigos hooted and whistled.

Mayor: “We were simply overwhelmed by this year’s attendance. Based on the previous 2 years, we had an idea as to what we could expect based on previous activities. We boosted our numbers and planned for an even larger crowd this year. Unfortunately the number of families that came out to participate far exceeded anything we could have possibly planned for. We sincerely tried our best to create a fun, free activity for everyone to enjoy,” Due to the actions of a few, the good intent quickly turned into a mess. I would like to sincerely apologize to each of our guests, this was not something created to frustrate or make people angry. We only wanted to do good for the local community. I hope that parents and children will be forgiving in the spirit of our Lord Jesus Christ who rose again this — what the hell?”

The cameras had turned to Huey as he came crashing into the crowd. “Help! My roommates are trying to kill me!” He grabbed the mayor by his suspenders. “They have gone crazy. You have to help me. They will listen to you.” The mayor stared at the camera for what seemed like an eternity.

“Calm down son. I am sure everything is going to be all right. We are all here to help you. Easterville has facilities that deal with this sort of delusion and they won’t turn you …”

A wave of bunnies could be seen coming up behind the mayor and Huey, engulfing the news crews. Reporters were screaming and camera operators started running. The intrepid WNJ cameraman kept filming, showing hordes of rabbits filling the screen. He kept backing up and then he tripped over some of the bunnies. Then all that could be seen on TV was the sky.

“Well, that was the news from Easterville.” The anchorwoman didn’t seem the least bit disturbed. “We will be back after this break with a story about a local Easter custom that will warm your heart.”

Chapter 8 — A Great Fall

The Easter Vigil at Our Lady of Guantanamo began at 11pm on Holy Saturday. A large fire had been built in the church yard, and Father Lopez took a small flaming stick from the fire and lit the Paschal candle.

“La Luz de Christo.” He chanted, as he lifted the candle high. Those assembled followed him to the church doors. “La Luz de Christo.” He chanted again using two notes of the same pitch, a lower note, and then the original pitch once more. As he reached the altar area, he placed the candle in a stand with one more chant: “The light of Christ.”

Except for the candle, the rest of the church was dark. Using a small, reading light, one person after the other rose and read from scripture. Then a song leader lead the congregation in singing a psalm. He would sing a chorus and they would follow. Then he would sing a verse and then raise his hands for them to join in the chorus.

Sing a new song unto the Lord, let your songs be heard from mountains high.

Sing a new song unto the Lord, singing alleluia!

This went on till long after midnight. There were baptisms, and prayers, and finally Holy Communion. The priest ended the service with an exclamation:
“Christ is risen.”

“He is risen indeed!” the congregation responded. Then they left the building.

There was a long standing tradition in the Latin community of burning an effigy of Judas on Easter Eve. Someone would sculpt a huge statue of Judas out of paper mache. Then the statue was stuffed with fireworks. On Good Friday, the statue was hung in a prominent place. On Holy Saturday, it was set on fire. Soon there was a colossal explosion and fireworks display. For security purposes, or so they said, the city council had banned this particular celebration in recent years.

After mass, Jorge, Jose, Juan, and Julio got together on the sidewalk outside of Our Lady of Guantanamo Catholic Church. The fire was still burning.

“I have one more plan in mind for our friend Bugsy.” Jorge intimated to his amigos. In a moment, each one grabbed a burning branch from the Easter fire. Holding them high, they marched down Main Street singing: Gracias a la Vida. This attracted a crowd, which started to follow them and join in the singing. When they got to City Hall, Jorge produced a rope. They tied it around the neck of Bugsy the paper mache mascot. They threw the other end over a tree branch in the square and hauled Bugsy up in the air. Then they lit his feet on fire.

Mayor McCheese was still wearing his Humpty Dumpty costume. He was on the roof of city hall with Jacki Pataki. He had her bent over one of the air-conditioning units and was standing behind her with his baggy blue and white checked pants pulled down in front and his carrot in play.

“Hump me, Humpty.” Jacki was egging him on.

“What’s all that noise out in the street?” McCheese lost his concentration.

“Aw. Jeeez.” From Pataki as he turned toward the noise and made a withdrawal.

McCheese waddled over to the edge of the roof to look down at the street in front of City Hall. A crowd had gathered around a pillar of fire.

“Are those ears?” The Mayor asked as he leaned over for a closer look. He lost his balance and couldn’t quite get it back with his pants down. He went over the ledge.

“Bugsyyyyyyyy!” he screamed on the way down. He landed directly on the rag top of Pataki’s BMW. It broke his fall.

“My car!” She screamed from the roof top.

Two policemen showed up at the hospital where the mayor was in fair condition. He had been transferred to a hospital room. They had cut off his costume in the emergency room, but had left the arched eyebrows. Now, laying there in a hospital gown, his hair disheveled and showing his baldness, he still looked like Humpty Dumpty. The officers explained that the mayor was now under arrest. They had followed up on Huey’s outburst and raided the house at 1313 Lois Lane. Once there, they uncovered a large-scale marijuana growing and distribution operation with deliveries scheduled across the United States. They arrested Dewey and Louie, who had decided that Huey was a liability and a loose cannon. The officers found a garage and a backyard full of marijuana plants, more than 45 pounds of processed marijuana — with a street value of over $2,000,000 — and $510,000 cash. Under questioning, the authorities learned that the home was owned by the mayor, but there was no record of any rent being paid. This aroused suspicions and Huey eventually spilled the jelly beans.

Epilogue

On Easter Morning, Cissy’s parents took her to services at Easterville Community Church. It was housed in a big square building that looked like a warehouse with a fountain out front. Everyone went there. Parking lot attendants steered them to a parking place and a smiling greeter came up, shook each of their hands and said “Good Morning” as they got out of the car. At the door, another smiling greeter said “Good morning” as she leaned back on the door holding it open.

The first stop was the coffee bar. They had an outlet of a brand name franchise in the lobby. Cissy’s parents got coffee and got her a juice box to take into church. When they opened the doors to the auditorium, they were greeted by rocking Christian music — pretty much like pop music on the radio, only it said “Lord” or “Jesus” in place of “honey” and “baby.” They found three seats in the section that reclined and had cupholders. When everyone else stood up, they stood up too. Cissy’s mom was shaking her ass to the music.

Then Pastor Bob came out. There was applause. He was followed by a spotlight.

“I want to show you something new I learned this week. You are gonna love it.” He went on to show them that you can do the Bunny Hop to “Jesus Christ is Risen Today” with the hops on the “lu-u-ia” of alleluia. “OK, left foot out, back, out, back. Then right foot out, back, and hop, hop, hop, on lu-u-ya!” Crissy wasn’t listening, she was praying that Jesus would come back. (Not Jesus of Nazareth, but Jesus the Hamster.)

Jesus the hamster kept digging and sniffing at the little tunnel he was making. Then he was scratching at roots. He ate some of them. Then he scratched some more and a little bit of light shone through. He made the hole bigger, stuck his front paws through it, and followed them with his head. He looked around. He was free.

After church his food people went to the I-Hop and then drove home. When they came by 1313 Lois Lane, they slowed down. The place was surrounded by yellow police tape and the cars had impound stickers on them. The back gate was open and Cissy could see a little creature weaving its way slowing through the grass.

“Stop the car!” Cissy screamed.

“What?” Her dad braked. She let herself out of her carseat and was out the door in a heartbeat.

Crissy ran through the open gate at 1313, bent over and scooped up Jesus, her pet hamster, in her little hand. Smiling widely, she held him up and showed him to her parents. They thought that he was lost. But now he was found. Others thought that Jesus was dead, but no, he lives. Happy Easter everybody.