Chewy's Challenge: Green Lake Stories, #2

By J. R. Croft

Chewy the squirrel plays drums for the Fresh Kickers, the most popular band in the world of the Great Green Lake. The band sets out on a journey to play the biggest concert of their lives, the Hall of Fame Ball in the Grand Gorge Theater, across the vast canyon known as the Grand Gorge.

He is a nervous wreck, frightened by the perils that lurk in the dark chasm, and his challenge becomes even more intense when the Siren loses power and plunges to the bottom of the Gorge. 

If Chewy doesn't get a grip on his paralyzing fears, he won't survive the wait for a rescue. He joins the other passengers, fighting for his next breath, wondering how long it will take to die.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.R. Croft
• Release date: Mar 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386425793

Book preview

Chewy’s Challenge

© 2018 J.R. Croft

Chapter 1

No one would say they enjoyed crossing the Grand Gorge. They saw the voyage as a necessary discomfort with a wonderful reward once it was over. Some citizens might say they used the time to knit, read, or write letters, but most would rather not talk about it at all, especially Chewy.    The spry drummer was unique among squirrels, because even though he twitched like all squirrels did, he was methodical and orderly, and never forgot where he buried a nut. Chewy's mind was wired for organization, and he despised situations that were unpredictable—like traveling across the Grand Gorge.

The passage was a journey into a world of nothingness; completely without scenery; a black domain that banned light from existence. Sun rays couldn't penetrate the inky depths, and the only light came from the candlebugs that shone from the submarines into the abysmal black curtain—the moving cloak between the seen and the unseen.

The Fresh Kickers—except for Chewy—relished the challenge of the Gorge, because, being musicians, they always enjoyed a good adventure. It took a certain level of recklessness to travel in a small submarine through the treacherous currents of the Gorge, and the Fresh Kickers had recklessness polished like a fine gemstone. They hadn't grown old enough to be cautious, and hadn't had the pellets scared out of them—yet—all except for Chewy, who seemed to be frightened most of the time. 

As the band members carried, carted, and pulled their gear toward Half Lake's terminal, it was obvious that Chewy was nervous. Every third or fourth step he took, his body twitched and his tail snapped up against his back. Mole, the most outgoing member of the group, slipped up beside him.

Hey Chewy, nice drumming at practice! I think we finally got our groove thing going!

Thanks, Mole, Chewy said, I think you're right... Mole noticed Chewy's paws were shaking and tried to say something to calm the anxious animal.

Hey squirrel, Mole said, patting Chewy on the back, don't worry about the Gorge...c'mon, buddy, it's not the first time we've done this, right?"

Yeah, and I feel the same way every time, Mole.

Well, Mole said, think about it...we'll be rehearsing the whole time anyway. You won't even notice... after we get over the cliffs and dive deep... it'll be fine. We can pull the curtains even, if you think that might help—

Your description... Chewy said, the cliffs...diving deep...it's all so precise that I can see it all now. Mole dreaded that Chewy's fears might take over and he'd do something rash.

But you know, Chewy said, nothing really works. I can't help it. My dad was on the ferry that crashed back in— Chewy's head bobbed twice, and he grabbed his chin, to look like he was thinking about something else.

Oh! Mole said, embarrassed by his forgetfulness, I'm sorry, Chew! Say no more—I'd forgot about that...Is—is he all right?

It's alright, Chewy said. He's getting old, but he's...he's all right, as long as no one talks about crossing the Gorge. Those days are over, I'm afraid...for my father—Hey! Chewy flinched as a swarm of fanning moths flew past. What's with the fanners?

Ah—they had a huge leak in the flower shop a while back, Mole said, watching another huge horde of moths fly toward them. He leaned off to one side as they fluttered by.

Oh yes, I knew that, Chewy said, smoothing the hair on