118. A Declaration of War

Mr. Lonefellow’s reaction to this news was immediate. When I mentioned Mr. Binky, the vet’s red face turned purple. When I said the house was to be torn down, smoke emanated from his nostrils. When I said the word “humans,” snakes and toads poured out of his mouth. But I will sum up what he said in one brief line.

“Over my dead body!”

Concerned about the health of his new acquaintance, Don Alonso advised him to calm down. Serenity is necessary in warfare. It did look as if he might die right there of a heart attack.

“You have my support, sir. Your quarrel shall be mine. But problems like this can be solved speaking. I suggest we ask the PM for an audience.”

But Mr. Shyboy grew even angrier. So angry, that he now looked like the bogeyman the Leafies had taken him for, instead of the amiable gentleman we had just met.

                 

“I ask that madman for an audience? He doesn’t know who he is messing with, that humanoide agent of the mortals! This means WAR!”

“Look what you’ve done, Arley,” cried Alpin, turning on me. “You had to squeal on Mr. Binky! Now you’ve started a war! And you stand there as fresh as a new born lettuce leaf!”

I couldn’t have felt more indignant. I turned purple too.  

                       

“I? Start a war? The wall had a right to be heard! Everyone does! It’s called freedom of speech!”

“Mr. Binky could have built his school without this guy’s even noticing. That’s how out of reality this lone fellow is. That’s what you get from reading everything you see!”

“Not I!” I cried. “Mr. Binky and his school for peace are what is provoking this fight! Or at least, his wanting to put it on somebody else’s property. We´re all fighting now, and this has to stop! This has an easy solution! He must put it somewhere else! That’s all!”

 “No, don’t try to defend yourself. This stupid adventure you’ve taken me on is over! Take me home!”

I was so upset I told him to go home on his own.

“I can’t! I’m starving so, I’m losing my eyesight! Get me out of here before I drink all the Shyboy Oil I find and become seriously ill! That will be your fault too.”

I took him home because the idea that he would drink Mr. Shyboy’s oil decided me to.

When we were outside the garden I turned to the wall to tell it I had delivered its message. There was new writing on the wall.

“Lonefellow has a nephew. The nephew has two pencils. He does graff, but no longer visits me. To learn where he is at, ask Felina of the Forest Cats. Thanks for helping me. That’s all I can do for you. I’m only a wall.”