Three weeks had passed. Randy was now a full-fledged adult mouse. This meant that he was finally allowed to venture outside the town square without the supervision of an adult.
He woke from a recurring nightmare where he was surrounded by peaches, and he had no teeth to bite on them. Mice in Villagloriosa believed that only the dreams of heroes like Glorioso held any real significance. But Randy couldn't shake the feeling that they were trying to tell him something. Maybe it was time to visit that Forbidden Tree outside now that he was allowed to go out. Perhaps if he ate peach again, his nightmares would go away. Or perhaps he just wanted to eat as much peach as he could while he had teeth. Either way, he was so excited that the mere idea made his legs feel jittery.
He dressed quickly, pulling on one of his mother's jumpers. Thankfully, in the moon since Uncle Will's death, Rosaline's colour palette had toned down considerably. The garish oranges and yellows had been replaced by more muted greens and browns, a change Randy appreciated as it allowed him to move around town more discreetly. He carefully tucked the pearl necklace under his jumper. It had not glowed since Will’s death, a fact that filled Randy with a gnawing anxiety. He glanced at it one last time, still dark.
He had to slip out undetected. Romero had developed an almost obsessive insistence on Randy joining him in the tunnels, despite Randy's lack of aptitude for digging.
He tiptoed through his room and into the empty kitchen. He was just about to make his escape when a voice boomed from the doorway.
"That's not proper attire for the tunnels, is it?"
Randy whirled around to see Romero standing there, clad in a bright orange jumper repurposed as pyjamas.
"Uh oh," Randy thought, his heart sinking fast.
"Ah, yes, I have somewhere important to go to," Randy stammered, his mind racing for a plausible explanation.
"Where?"
"I — I'm going down there," Randy said, pointing vaguely in the general direction of the square.
"Where?" Romero pressed sharply.
"Down there to the… the thing," Randy repeated, his voice trailing off.
"What thing? The Cheese Fair?" Romero guessed, his expression softening slightly.
Randy sighed in relief. "Yes, of course, the fair."
"Strange you've taken a liking to it, considering how little you like cheese. Perhaps it'll do you good," Romero mused.
Randy nodded emphatically, his enthusiasm perhaps a tad overdone. "Right, okay, yes, well, I'm off then!" he turned to leave, but Romero stopped him.
"Wait."
Randy paused, his stomach churning with a premonition of doom.
"Meet me at the tunnels afterwards."
"Why didn't I run faster?" Randy lamented silently as he plastered a cheerful smile on his face.
Despite his general aversion to cheese, Randy had to admit that the Cheese Fair was, in its own bizarre way, rather impressive. Every moon, like clockwork, at the stroke of dawn, the mice of Villagloriosa would gather at the Piano Square. There, with much pomp and circumstance, they would use a running wheel to crank an ancient gramophone to produce the marching tune of Ravel's Bolero. This was the signal for the commencement of the Cheese Fair. And then, the mice would march with religious fervour, in a long, winding procession towards the town square, their tiny feet keeping time with the relentless rhythm of the music.
As the music reached its crescendo, an awe-inspiring spectacle would unfold. The doors of Euphemia's oven-home, a structure that dominated the town square, would burst open, revealing the mayor herself, surrounded by her retinue, and a lavish display of cheese. Euphemia always went all out displaying her own cheese-making mastery.
"...Thank you!" she ended her long speech. "Welcome to the twelfth Cheese Fair. Let us share our talent for making cheese!"
Randy found himself jostled and bumped by the swirling crowd, surrounded by the pungent aroma of a thousand different cheeses. It was overwhelming.
He passed Duria's stinky blue cheese stand. Randy couldn't explain it, but he both hated and loved the smell. He watched as Duria proudly displayed her wares when Truffle and Lavender Rockaflower arrived. The Rockaflowers wrinkled their noses in disdain. "Duria, that smells horrible!" Lavender declared. "Has it gone bad?"
"Darling, the stench is intentional," Truffle added. "Those who aren't blessed with many children like us need to get their attention in other ways — it’s only normal."
"I do as I please with my cheese," Duria retorted, her eyes flashing with defiance.
"But no one wants to try it," Lavender pointed out, gesturing to her empty stand.
"Not everyone dislikes it," Randy said, surprising everyone, including himself, by grabbing a piece of Duria's most pungent creation. He ate it with a grimace, forcing it down with an impressive display of self-control, and then, for good measure, stuck out his blue-tinged tongue at the Rockaflowers.
The Rockaflowers' faces turned a shade of green. "Well, I guess strange mice need friends too," Truffle snorted over his shoulder as he plunged back into the crowd with his wife.
Duria, touched by Randy’s unexpected defence, wrapped up a large piece of her stinky cheese and insisted he take it. Randy reluctantly accepted it with a polite smile before moving on.
Later he passed by Mr. Noodle’s giant cheese — “bigger than any human cheese,” he claimed. Euphemia stood nearby, surrounded by her cohort, admiring the monstrosity with a reverence that bordered on worship.
Further ahead at a different stand, Hazel was banging her hard cheese on the floor with a violence that suggested she had a personal vendetta against it. She claimed that diggers used it to sharpen their teeth, which reminded him that he had to go to the tunnels later, filling him with dread.
Finally, near the exit of the square, he saw Finocchio’s mozzarella stand. Finocchio stretched his mozzarella to incredible lengths, using it to lift smaller mice into the air. Randy thought it could be used for cheese jumping — a sport he was sure would become wildly popular with Paprika. However, he decided not to share this brilliant concept with her, fearing she might rope him into another dangerous adventure.
The Promenade of Wisdom was packed with mice heading to the fair, their noses twitching at the promise of free cheese. From the walls, mice waved and called out greetings, their voices lost in the general din. After much pushing and shoving, he made it to the gate area at the end of the promenade. It was deserted, except for Canelo and Comino, the gate guards. Canelo was dozing off, his chin resting on his chest, snoring loudly.
“Hello, Canelo!” Randy shouted cheerfully.
Canelo startled awake, his eyes unfocused and his mind clearly still lost in a cheesy dream. “You startled me!” he exclaimed, flustered.
“Sorry to interrupt your peaceful sleep!”
“Me? Sleep? No way! I am always alert, every minute of every day! What are you doing here?” Canelo declared indignantly, then yawned.
“I turned two moons old yesterday, which means I can go outside now. Can you open the gate for me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not the time.”
“When will it be?”
“In an hour or two. The sun’s not high enough. It may be too dangerous for you.”
“Can you two keep it down? I’m trying to sleep,” Comino grumbled, roused from his nap.
“What? You lazy mouse — we must guard the door!” Canelo yelled.
“Guard it from what? Boredom?” Comino retorted.
“What’s the big deal? This is the safest place in The Wild,” Randy said.
“The big deal is the rats! Starving rats that prowl at night, thirsty for blood!” Canelo declared with a dramatic flair, his eyes widening for emphasis.
“There aren’t any rats,” Comino scoffed, settling back onto his makeshift cotton futon.
“You heard Basilico,” Canelo said, leaning over the top ramp. “He saw rats not long ago.”
“You believe that old nutjob?” Comino laughed, shaking his head.
“Basilico saw rats? Where? When?” Randy asked, his thirst for adventure reawakened.
“Oh great, now you believe him too,” Comino sighed.
“He said he saw a troop of them, carrying something big,” Canelo explained, his eyes gleaming with a hint of fear.
“That would be the day,” Comino said dismissively. “The biggest adventure we had was killing a spider two moons ago.”
“You think this is a game?” Canelo said, stepping down from his post next to the running wheel used to open the gate.
“Canelo, you’re leaving your post,” Comino pointed out. Canelo quickly scrambled back up.
“Look at him,” Comino laughed, pointing at Canelo. “He’s always trying so hard to be so dutiful.”
“I’m your superior, I need to set a good example!” Canelo yelled.
“Prove you are the boss. Open the gate early for Randy. Do something out of the ordinary for once,” Comino challenged, stepping forward, his eyes daring Canelo to defy him.
“We can’t be sure it will be safe,” Canelo hesitated, his gaze darting between the gate and Comino’s challenging stare.
“Come on, Canelo,” Randy pleaded. “Just this once, and I will give you this cheese that I got fresh from the fair.”
Canelo looked at the parcel with great curiosity. “I was wondering what that smell was.”
“It’s a… uh… an innovative recipe,” Randy offered.
Canelo took the cheese and, after a moment of hesitation, took a bite. He looked like he was about to regurgitate his breakfast, then his expression softened. "This is interesting." Then he took another bite with Comino, who got a similar reaction.
“This has an interesting aftertaste,” said Comino, strangely enjoying the cheese.
"Open the gate then," Randy demanded, seizing the opportunity. "You owe me for the cheese!"
"Alright, alright! Comino, get in the wheel. We're opening the gate," Canelo conceded, his resolve crumbling under peer pressure.
"Wait! Can I do the wheel? I don’t usually get a chance," Randy exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
"Come on, Randy, we're already breaking protocol," Canelo protested.
"Here, Randy," Comino said, helping him up onto the giant wheel. "Run as fast as you can. It's quite the experience."
And so, while Comino pulled a lever to unlock the gate, Randy ran in an ecstasy of joy, and the gate opened all too soon.
"Alright, that's enough," Comino said as he pulled Randy off the wheel. "If you want more, go to the Agonising Gardens."
The three mice gathered at the gate's entrance, their eyes fixed on the horizon as the first rays of dawn painted the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink. Randy looked at Canelo and Comino, both gaping at the beautiful sight. “It was worth it, wasn’t it?” he said, smiling. Then he ran towards the forbidden tree, first following the path towards the temple and then taking a right turn towards the tree and disappearing into the grass.
Randy leapt and rushed across the fields, losing himself in the tall grass, frolicking and rolling, feeling the cool mist against his fur. Then, he tripped over something and fell.
“Ouch!” someone said.
Randy looked back and saw the thing he had tripped on. It was old Basilico. He was disheveled, his clothes tattered, his eyes a little glassy, as if staring into the distance for an answer that would never reach him.
“What are you doing here, Basilico?” Randy asked.
“I fell asleep yesterday, and when I tried to come back, the guards had gone to sleep,” he said in a slow, low voice.
“Was it dangerous? Did you see any rats?”
“No — not this time. I only saw them once during the day, in the distance by The Gorge.”
“Are you sure they were rats?”
“I think so — it was far, but I am pretty sure they were rats — they looked malicious, even from far away.”
Randy made a mental note to take a look at The Gorge sometime soon. The idea of seeing a live rat was too enticing to pass up. It was a chance to prove to himself he was a daring adventurer in the face of danger — just like Tiny Hops.
“So why do you always stay out so late?” Randy asked with a polite interest.
“I was digging for gold.”
“Gold? Why?”
“Because many moons ago, I found one of the gold coins that the humans so eagerly took with them when they fled. I was so happy with my finding but no one cared, except Euphemia. She declared to the whole town that it was a good omen, that any time anyone found gold, rivers of milk to make cheese would follow. And she was right, soon after she took the gold coin, rivers of milk did follow, and we made her our dear mayor.”
“Okay,” Randy said with some scepticism. “But that was how long ago?”
“About twenty moons ago, more or less, I can’t even remember,” he said with some sadness.
“And, have you found any more gold since then?”
“Well… no…”
“And even if you did find more gold, we already have too much cheese, no? What’s the point?”
As soon as Randy said that, he regretted it. Basilico’s face turned somber and his eyes almost welled with tears. This was Basilico’s entire life purpose, and here he was, silly Randy, questioning it. Randy knew he’d never find gold again. But who was he to judge another’s dreams when his own were so unconventional?
“Now you are making me think,” Basilico said, his face looking constipated by the effort. “Thinking hurts. Maybe you are right. Maybe my work is pointless. Maybe I will never find gold again.”
“Ignore me, Basilico,” Randy said. “I am clearly too stupid to understand these things. You are doing valuable work here. And you are unique, no one else can do this work but you.”
“You think so? Even though I’ve only found one piece of gold in my entire life?”
“That’s more than all mice ever found, isn’t it? Come on, let’s get to work. I want to be your assistant today.”
For the next hour, Randy followed Basilico’s instructions: dig here, dig there, follow this hunch, that hunch. Nothing came of it, of course, but Basilico was happy, and that was all that mattered. Then after some time Basilico got tired of digging and his eyes were filled with gratitude as Randy bid him goodbye.
Randy was feeling so charitable right now, he had done a good deed and got paid in gratitude. Joy swelled in his chest. However, as he headed towards the tree, a troubling thought struck him. What if his life mirrored Basilico's, endlessly chasing an unattainable dream? What was the point of pursuing anything then?
Well, at least he would always have peaches, he hoped.
The Forbidden Tree was magnificent, colossal to a mouse. Randy regarded the branches looking for peaches but he found none from down there. He climbed for a while and settled on the branch with the best views. From his perch, the trees of The Wild stretched across the landscape, making him feel like he was on a desert island in an ocean of forest. Below, a dense mist covered everything.
Randy began to daydream, a silly smile on his face. He imagined himself battling snakes, beasts, and rats; fearlessly navigating dangerous paths; emerging victorious, a hero — perhaps even a king. Thousands of mice would look up to him and he would create the perfect world… but he was conflicted by these thoughts, this wasn’t Will’s dream, it was Tiny’s — who did he want to be? His heart wanted to be like Tiny, but it felt his duty to be more like Will; after all, he had entrusted him with the task of finding The Place Where The Sun Meets The Earth.
A voice punctured his reverie, a feminine, high-pitched whine that sounded all-knowing.
“Careful. Keep dreaming like that and you might fall off — not that I care, so carry on.”
The voice belonged to a she-mouse, about Randy’s age. She had a haughty air about her, but she wore it like a royal cape, in a way that made her look graceful and beautiful. Randy was too annoyed to notice her regal beauty, though. He hated being disturbed while daydreaming.
“And who are you?” Randy asked.
“I’m the rightful owner of this branch. I demand you leave,” she said, tapping the branch with her foot.
“This isn’t your branch. I was here first.”
“Yes, it is. It’s my thinking branch, and I need to think about something important. Please, jump off — head first preferably,” she said, primly.
“Find another branch. I was here first, and I’m thinking about something important too.”
“You’re not thinking, you’re daydreaming. I could tell by your dumb smile and vacant expression.”
“Same thing.”
“Different. Dreaming is for pleasure; thinking is for action. My reasons are more valid.” She stood straight and swung her head around.
Randy was taken aback. She had a point, but he wasn’t giving up the branch. He was about to suggest a random branch above him when he spotted something precious. He froze, ogling at it. She turned to see what he was looking at, and her eyes widened.
A peach, juicy and delicious, demanding to be eaten.
While Randy hesitated, she nimbly climbed to the branch above and began to eat. Randy joined her and started eating from the other side. They both nibbled relentlessly for some time until they met at the core, their bellies full.
“Let’s not tell anyone,” she said, lying on the branch.
“Agreed,” Randy said, rubbing his belly.
“Is it your first time?” she asked.
“No, but this was my best time — by far.”
“Oh,” she said. “Me too.”
“Your first time or your best time?”
“Yes.” She smirked.
“What drove you?” he asked, surprised. She didn’t seem the type to eat sweets.
“I don’t know. I just wanted it.”
“I understand.” He smiled and relaxed.
“By the way, I’m Mint. And you?”
“Randy.”
“Nice to meet you, Randy. You can keep the branch. I’ll find another.”
“No, you keep it. I’ll find another.”
“Please, I insist,” Mint said.
“How about we share it?” Randy asked, hoping she’d agree.
“You don’t mind? I thought you’d hate me. I’m a bit edgy lately. I am sorry.” She beamed at Randy, showing another side of her beauty, more relaxed and forthcoming.
“Don’t worry. I thought you were a pain, but now you’re okay.”
Mint laughed and cuddled closer. They looked at the landscape and enjoyed each other’s company in silence for a while. Then they talked about cheese, the town, and how mice should be more open-minded. Randy thought she was the smartest mouse he’d ever met. She was eloquent, funny, and they even finished each other’s sentences. It was the best conversation he’d ever had.
“Wow, look at the sun,” she said pointing at the sky above them. “Time flew.”
“Yes…” Randy said, feeling content, until his father’s face popped into his head. “Oh no!” he exclaimed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I have to go! My dad wants me to help him dig tunnels. He’ll kill me!” He climbed down the tree, hopping from branch to branch, losing his balance and falling, hitting every branch and then the ground. Luckily, it was soft grass.
“Watch out!” Mint shouted. “The peach core!”
Randy saw the core tumbling down from branch to branch. He stayed still. Unluckily, it landed on his head, covering him in peach juice and pieces. He shook them off, but now he smelled strongly of sweet peach.