Chester and Hoot – Short Tales

So here’s my first short story, read it and leave a comment if you want more.  I am going to write more anyway.  I’m looking for someone to illustrate my stories, so if you’re interested in that too, write me.  Also, a publisher would be nice. 🙂

I was given an idea some time ago about writing stories for kids.  I used to teach kids and I know they have a wild imagination, to say the least.  Anyway, I decided to start writing some short stories about a cat named Chester and an owl named Hoot.  These stories are more for the older reader as some of the humour if you can call it that is a bit dry or sarcastic.

CHESTER AND HOOT GO FISHING

“Hoot, Hooooot!”  Cried, Chester.  “Hooooooot!”

“What, what doo you want?” Asked Hoot.

“I’m hungry,” said Chester, his stomach grumbling so loudly that all the little sparrows in the tree flew away in fright, that and the fact that Chester was a cat and they were startled by his presence.

“Ooooh, I see, and what dooo yoou want tooo dooo about it?” Cried Hoot.

“Well, meooow, I thought we could go fishing”, said Chester, “and then we could eat what we catch.”

“Why don’t we just go to Coooooop and buy some food.” Chuckled Hoot.

“Very funny” said Chester, “have you got any cash?”

“Truuuue”, thought Hoot, “yoou coooould go around the back and loook sweet for the storekeeper.”

“I’m too hungry to look sweet.” Said Chester. “You could fly through the window and take some food from the deli.”

“I’m tooo big for that.” Said Hoot “And besides, there aren’t windows.”

“Ok, so let’s go fishing.”

“How are we going to do it without a rod and tackle, and hands?” Asked Hoot.

“Let’s get to the river and we can decide then.” Said Chester, raising one paw and licking it with his eyes half closed, thinking about the yummy treats waiting at the river for them.  “and if you want to get technical, how are we talking to each other?”

“OK.” Said Hoot.  “Let’s go.”

So, in stealth mode, Chester and Hoot headed off to the river.  Chester’s belly almost touching the floor and his legs disappearing into his body, while Hoot swooped and dived and flew up again, his eyes looking here there and everywhere in case he spotted a tasty snack.

After some time, Chester and Hoot arrived at the banks of the river Buck, in the middle of the Starry forest at the bottom of Hilly valley.  It was more of a stream than a river, but it was full of big, juicy fish.

“Aaaah, here we are, at last.” Shouted Chester up to Hoot. “Here we are at last.”

By this time Chester was dribbling with hunger, his tail was gently wagging, and his nose was twitching, trying to catch a whiff of food.  Hoot, on the other hand, wasn’t so interested.

“How are we going to catch the fish?” Asked Hoot. “How?  I don’t like water, you don’t like water, how?”

“I don’t mind a bit of water if there’s food involved.” Exclaimed Chester. “We need something to get the fish to come to the bank of the river.”

“Can you catch a bug, Hoot?” Asked Chester.

“Of course, I can.  I am an owl. It’s my day job.” Chuckled Hoot, wickedly.

With that Hoot swooped down, wings spread and talons in front of him and grabbed a big, ugly bug, which had been flying around the river’s edge.  He then dropped it by Chester and Chester pounced on it to stop it running away.

He didn’t kill the bug, he needed it moving to attract the fish. “What’s your name, Mr. Bug?” asked Chester. “I’m not going to hurt you.  I need your help.”

“Horace, Horace McSpotty, and I’m not a bug, I’m a horsefly.” Said Horace grumpily.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Horace,” said Chester, “you don’t look like a horse, and horses certainly don’t fly.”

“Neigh, neigh, neigh.” Laughed Horace, “that’s not why I’m called a horsefly, it’s because my wife loves horses so much that she lives on them and even eats on them….and she’s a fly of course.  The horses don’t like it much, but they’re used to it now.  Me, I prefer people., but they’re too clever and fidgety.”

“Oh, I see.” Said Chester. “anyway, can you help us?”

“How can I do that?” asked Horace, looking puzzled. “Do you need something of the horse?”

“Ha, ha!”  Chester let out a great cry of laughter.  “No, we need you to fly around by the river and when a fish comes to get you, we’ll take care of the rest.”

Horace looked at Chester and Hoot in amazement, he could not believe what he was hearing.  “Buzz off!” Shouted Horace, “that’s way too dangerous.  The fish will eat me for sure.”

“Noooo.”  Shouted Hoot from above.  “When the fish jumps out of the water to get you, I’ll be waiting up here out of sight. I’ll come down and get him before he gets you.”

“And I’ll be ready, too,” Added Chester “with my long paws I’ll grab him too.  Nothing to worry about, nothing at all.”

“Hmmm”, thought Horace, rubbing his legs together, “what do I get in return?”

“You won’t get eaten by the fish, or me, or Hoot.”  Said Chester, rather sneakily.

“OK,” said Horace, worriedly, “I’ll do it, as long as you promise to catch the fish before it catches me.”

“No problem, nooo problem.” Said Chester and Hoot, sniggering behind their paws and wings.

With that, Horace buzzed off to the water’s edge and began to flutter all over the place above the surface, teasing the fish that swam below.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, a large goldfish suddenly broke through the surface of the water and leapt toward Horace.  Horace shrieked with surprise, Hoot squawked with delight, and Chester lashed out with his big Tom paw and hooked the goldfish to the bank.  The goldfish began to flip and flap and wriggle around and it was so big that it threw Chester a good meter away.  Hoot came swooping down and landed on the goldfish, but it was so slippery that Hoot lost his grip.

“What are you playing at?” screamed the goldfish, “what do you think you’re doing to me?”

Chester, Hoot and Horace all looked at each other in surprise and in unison shouted out, “MY GOD, A TALKING FISH!”

By this time the goldfish had managed to wriggle back into the water and swam away down the river.

“Ah, that sucks.” Said Chester.  “We almost had him.  If it hadn’t started talking we would have been eating our dinner by now.”

“Yes, indeed.” Sighed Hoot. “We certainly would have.”

“You two are bonkers.” Said Horace.  “Haven’t you realized that we’re all talking to each other and you’re both surprised by a talking goldfish?”

Chester and Hoot began to look at each other, puzzled by what Horace had said.  Then suddenly a big frog appeared out of nowhere and flipped out its long tongue and ate Horace in one gulp and then hopped off into the long grass.

“Let’s go!” said Hoot.

“Yes.” Said Chester.  “I’m going home to my nice warm house, I think I have a plate of food waiting for me.  If not, then I shall just creep around the legs of the lovely lady of the house, knock a few things over, meow cutely and look sweet.  Works every time.”

“That’s easy for you.” Huffed Hoot.  “I’ll have to go back into the woods to find something.  It’s not so warm and cosy in there at night.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Chester.  Enjoy your dinner.”

Chester pranced down the hill towards his house and the lady that kept saying that she was his mummy and talking to him like he was an idiot all the time.

Hoot flew back into the woods to his hole in the tree and with his great big saucer eyes and his head giving it the 360 motions, he began to look for his dinner down below.  From afar, he could hear the faint sound of the goldfish shouting, “you can’t catch me up in that tree, you big, sad, hungry owl.”

Hoot’s stomach grumbled.

“Bloody cat!” He thought.  “He’ll be on my menu tomorrow.”

 

 

 

 

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Author: James Presley

I am an artist and I love it. What do I have to do to live from what I love? I'm not dying or cutting me bloody ear off, that's for sure.

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