Rabbit Stew

By Gretchen Schloesser

“Oh, dear! You simply don’t understand! If you let this girl roam free, the crime spree will never end. I fear for my life.”

Officer Luddick released a long sigh as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. He despised when anthropomorphic creatures came into the precinct. Last week, a wild-haired man-cub with his wolf family in tow arrived to accuse a Bengal tiger of hunting him. Then the tiger showed up and revealed a blood feud between the families. The janitorial staff nearly went on strike because of the fur covering every crevice of the bullpen. Not to mention the special “present” the tiger left before being tossed out. Plus, the extra paperwork was a nightmare.

“Frankly, sir, you haven’t given us enough to go on.” Luddick gestured toward the few scribbles on the lined, yellow notepad. “Eating a piece of cake labeled ‘Eat me’ doesn’t really constitute stealing.”

“Oh my, oh my, why don’t you take my concerns seriously?” The furry white rabbit wrung his paws. “It may be cake and a beverage now, but this girl is stalking me. She’s trying to get in my head and frighten me. And it’s working.” The rabbit tugged a paisley handkerchief from his tiny vest pocket and dabbed at his forehead.

Luddick avoided rolling his eyes and skimmed over the few words jotted on the page. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. The issue is with a girl whose name might be Mary Ann, probably isn’t called Ada or Mabel, but perhaps is referred to as Alice?”

The rabbit’s long ears flopped as he nodded his head.

Luddick continued. “She’s of normal size, but is also small, and at times quite large?”

“Indeed.”

“Do you see the problem here?” Luddick rested his arm on the desk and leaned toward the woodland creature. “We can’t issue a restraining order for someone without consistent identifying information.”

“It’s hardly my fault all you humans look the same.”

This time Luddick didn’t hold back his scoff. All humans looked the same? What about all sentient rabbits looking the same? Luddick wasn’t part of the AAL—Anti-Anthropomorphic League—but he was beginning to see why so many fellow officers had joined its ranks.

The rabbit slipped a silver timepiece from his vest pocket. “Oh, dearie, me. Now I’m late with nothing to show for it. I must be going. I’m late!”

After dropping his calling card onto the desk, the white rabbit scurried out of the precinct and darted down the narrow lane outside the door.

Seven additional forms to document the overly-anxious rabbit’s impossible request! They were gonna take an extra hour at least. His wife would kill him if he was late for dinner again. He’d do the paperwork tomorrow. Maybe.

Luddick’s desk chair squeaked as he stood and stretched his arms toward the fluorescent overhead lights. A restraining order for a little girl. He shook his head. Strange one, that.

***

A few days later Luddick topped off his chipped “Detective of the Year” mug with some liquid caffeine so strong it probably no longer qualified as coffee. A pink box of donuts sat open on the counter, and his hand hovered over the goods. Glazed? Or was it more of a maple kind of day?

He’d successfully avoided doing any work on the rabbit’s case, despite the creature’s daily phone calls. Mr. W. Rabbit had even sent his sister into the precinct the previous day trying to escalate the case. She squeaked that her son had suddenly gone missing and weren’t they aware of last month’s bunny-napping down by March Hare house? Who knew bunnies were such a nervous bunch?

Luddick selected a chocolate twist, then squinted out the window at a flash of movement. A little girl lingered in the alley outside.

A lost child trumped missing rabbits any day of the week. He shoved open the precinct door and called to the girl, who had paused at a bush by the alley’s entrance.

“Are you lost, sweetheart?”

The child, no more than eight, startled and dropped whatever was in her hand to the ground. She hastily shoved it back into the pocket of her pinafore, then turned to face him.

The girl’s blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her outfit was immaculate, save for a few deep brown stains on her frilly white apron.

“I’ve lost my friend. A little white rabbit.” She lifted a tuft of white fur off the bush and held it out. “No more than yea tall.” She gestured to her hip.

“What’s your name, honey?”

“Alice.”

Perhaps this was the elusive girl setting terror into Mr. W. Rabbit’s heart.

“Come on inside. I’ll get you a lollipop while I look him up.”

“Thank you, Officer.”

As she sat at the chair by his desk, he caught a glint of metal wire poking out the top of her pocket.

“You sure your parents are ok with you hanging around with creatures like this?”

Alice gave him an impish grin, slipping the strange wire out of her pocket and into her cloth bag… a wire snare? “We’re supposed to have supper later. I’m making a stew.”

Luddick’s gaze honed in on the cursive AAL logo on her bag, then the stains on her pinafore. Dirt? Or dried blood?

The gravity of the situation settled onto him. “Uh-huh. Well, why don’t you leave me your information, and I’ll give you a ring if I see your rabbit friend? What did you say his name was?”

“Mr. W. Rabbit.”

After getting her contact information, Luddick said farewell to Alice, then pulled the business card out from the folder on his desk.

Mr. W. Rabbit, Esquire.

He picked up his phone and punched in the digits. “Hello? Mr. Rabbit, sir, this is Officer Luddick at the police station. There’s been a development in your case. We’ll be able to issue that restraining order after all.”

Perhaps he should look into the missing nephew too…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gretchen Schloesser is a mathematician turned mama and writer. When she’s not playing with her kids or answering, “Why?” for the hundredth time, she enjoys going on adventures with her family and finding humor in all aspects of life.

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