Goodness knows

Goodness knows, said the mouse to the hen, we'd better find a place to hide before then.

Then, said the hen, we'd better get looking.

It was, an unlikely duo. A tiny mouse with one ear lobbed off. A hen without a claw. Their friendship hadn't lasted very long. Only a fortnight or two. They'd met in the most unlikely of circumstances. The mouse, evading a cat, had slid into the henhouse in search of refuge. The hen, the only occupant of the rundown structure that no man had entered for a very long time, had awoken with a shriek when the mouse skidded to a halt against its plumage.

Who goes there? the hen queried, blinking its beady eyes in the dim light of the henhouse.

The mouse, breathless and afraid had squeaked without giving a thought to any danger other than the cat on its tail on the other side of the wall to the henhouse. "Oh please, kind chicken. I am but a little mouse seeking to evade a mighty prowler. A cat. Please, let me hide beneath your feathers."

And so, the unlikely friendship began. The mouse slid beneath the hen's plumage just as the cat leapt into the room, teeth bared, eyes peering into the gloom.

The hen, never one to miss an opportunity to terrorize avian enemies, squawked loudly. Flapped its wings. Shrieked.

The cat, surprised by the sudden appearance of what could only be a birdie banshee, hightailed it out of the henhouse faster than a rooster crowing the dawn on a hot tin roof. The last they saw of the cat he was hightailing it over the moon, never to return. And the hen and the mouse lived in peaceful harmony.

Until that morning.

It was what had the pair so worried. That very morning, a man had entered the space, creaking open the door that hung on one hinge. It's raspy ironwork awoke the duo from a mid-morning nap. The hen had squawked in surprise. The mouse squeaked.

They scurried under an upside down wooden carton and peer out between its slats. Dust fairies danced through the air on pathways of light lit from the opened door. They watched as a pair of shiny black wingtips stepped into the centre of the henhouse, raising the dirt as it entered. It came to the center of the room and stopped. One toe tapped upon the ground. Above the shoes, a pair of grey legs their edge as sharp as a knife stood still. They couldn't see any higher from their hiding place. They didn't dare move.

Behind the shoes, another pair teetered into the space. This pair was bright red. Open-toed. "oohhh," sighed the hen into the mouse's one good ear. "Size 6 Jimmy Chu's." She sighed again. "Nice." she whispered on one long exhale.

The mouse punched the hen in its chicken breast and whispered fiercely back. "What are they saying? What are they saying?"

The hen ruffled a feather. "Shhh. let me listen."

"Goodness," said the size 6 Jimmy Chu's. "This place is dusty." One at a time, the shoes picked themselves off the ground. A simpering dance erupted in the dust covering the ground. One shoe up, quickly drop to the ground, second shoe up, quickly drop to the ground. And again. Same song. Same verse.

A hearty laugh rose out of the body above the shiny black wingtips. The walls shook. The dust fairies froze in space, startled by the loud noise suddenly emanating from the being in their midst.

The mouse and the hen cowered beneath their upturned box. "It will be a good thing we do here Miss Lovely. We'll tear down this mess. Build a condo for all those poor folk living in the gutter and no one will know I stole this land from Farmer Jonz after I buried him at the corner of 52nd and Park. Why, I swear, they'll build a monument for us at Silly Hall."

"Goodness," hissed the mouse to the hen. "I know that fiend. I may only hear out of one ear but I'd recognize that voice even if it weren't my worst nightmare. He's the one who shooed me out of my home over on 49th. He's a devil in disguise. A real 'look-at-me philanthropogust of hot air without a heart. He rips land off poor folk, builds teetering highrises that can't withstand a bad turn of the economy and then, sells them off for millions. He's baaaad."

The hen, busy watching the red size 6 Jimmy Chu's didn't hear her friend's words. "Why, I think I'll just go introduce myself," she said, fluffing up her feathers, preening her beak on the side of the wooden box. "Maybe she'll let me touch my one and only claw to that pretty red bow on the side of her heel."

The mouse squeaked. "No! Listen to me hennie. That pair will eat you alive. There's no goodness in them. It's all a front for raking in the dough."

But hennie wasn't really interested in the mouse's cautionary tale. She wanted to get close to the Jimmy Chu's.

She pushed the mouse away, stepped out from beneath her crate and hopped on her one good claw into the centre of the henhouse.

"Well hello there Jimmy Chu!" she squawked.

The Jimmy Chu's leaped back, tumbled over a box at the side of the room. A shriek pierced the air. The soles of the Jimmy Chu's flew up. Black with beige trim. Nice, thought the hen. Above the shoes, a body fell to the ground. Dust flew up into the air. Dust fairies scurried for cover.

The shiny black wingtips scuffed at the dirt. "What the hell!" the body above the creased grey pants emitted. And with one sweep of a pressed grey pant leg, the toe of the shiny black wingtip connected with the side of the hen and swept her into a pile of crates at the back of the room.

The shiny black wingtips turned to help the fallen Jimmy Chu's. "There there," the now syrupy voice above the pant legs cooed like a fox raiding a henhouse. "It was just some ole' ratty chicken squawking in the henhouse.

"Why I never," squeaked Miss Lovely as she raised herself precariously onto her Jimmy Chu's. "I hope you sent it running."

"Why my lovely Miss Lovely. It ran out of here like a chicken with its head cut off."

The two laughed and laughed. The man looked around the henhouse one last time. "Well we'd best be on our way. Money's a waiting to be made and time's awasting. We gotta go do goodness knows what to pave the way on the money trail! No deed's too low, no bribe too high where my money and me are concerned."

From his hiding place the mouse watched the shiny black wingtips and Jimmy Chu's leave the building.

When the coast was clear, he quickly scurried out from beneath the box and went in search of his friend who lay bruised and battered in a pile of crates.

Goodness knows, he told himself. We'll have to get busy finding a new place to live. Goodness knows, progress will not be stopped and shiny black wing tips will step on anyone to get greenbacks into its greedy paws.

And so, the friends gathered their meagre belongings and set off to find a new refuge in the city. Worried that tomorrow would not be a better day, the hen kept talking a mile a minute. "Why, if I die today it will be worth it to have seen that little red bow on the side of a pair of size 6 Jimmy Chu's."

. "Bird brain," said the mouse to the hen. "Goodness knows, we've gotta get ourselves a plan and warn Silly Hall."

And so the pair set off in search of a way to heel the the relentless onslaught of the shiny black wingtips voracious appetite for taking advantage of them derelict folk in the gutter as he pulled the wool over Silly Hall.

The moral of the story is... There's no goodness in size 6 Jimmy Chu's. There's only a heel too high to climb.


To be continued. Maybe.

The Blog Carnival, a biweekly online event open to anyone, is sponsored by Bridget Chumbley at One Word at a Time and Peter Pollock at Rediscovering the Church. Today's one-word prompt is "goodness". Go here for a list of links to all of the contributions. (Thanks Maureen for the para to link to.)