Everyone, I’m sorry to sound desperate, but my little brother Peter is about to be hanged by little green subterranean men. I know it sounds unbelievable, like something only a bunch a kids could make up, but it’s true. How did this happen? Let me explain it to you from the beginning, but just quickly because I still need to tend to events down here…to somehow save my little brother, who by the way, now has tears streaming down his face.
This all started just a few hours ago when the little green men now tying the noose around Peter’s head tunneled into our clubhouse. This might not have been such a big deal, but my baby brother Paul, aka the Pollywog, used that same tunnel to escape from the clubhouse after we had left him alone there for just a second. There was no choice, we all had to follow; it was our brave effort to save him.
Oh, we, who do I mean, you ask? Well it’s me, my older sister Penny, my younger brother Peter, my younger sister Patsy (she’ll grow up and illustrate the book), and the Pollywog. Oh then there’s our pets Yukon King and Earless Osdick the cat/dog/rabbit (don’t ask!) We’re all characters taken from real life, but then isn’t every character in some way or another? Our fictional dad is Pierre Berton, your beloved author, who published this story back in 1961.
The reason I’m writing this is because Penny is always too busy leading, Peter is always lost in his own world of cars and trucks, and Patsy is too much the free spirit write anything down. Oh, and the Pollywog, he only speaks one word, “og,” which coincidentally is the one word that all these menacing little green people speak. Imagine that, only one word in their native language. This makes school a bit easier than ours up above. Their recesses are five months long, if you can believe it.
I’m not sure if I’d like five months recesses the more I think about it. Being the second child isn’t easy. With Penny in charge, I’ve never really been able to develop my own leadership skills. I’m always overlooked. If you’ve read the story which I’ve just stepped out of to write this all down, you’ll notice that even when I did have the chance to be in charge, I ended up following, not leading, my little sister Patsy down the mushroom forested hills into the village of Og. Yeah, five month recesses might not be a good fit for someone like me.
Now Peter, he’d have no problem. You probably smiled at the way he painted himself green to fit in among the Ogs. Yeah, I admit, that was pretty brilliant, but how much more brilliant was it that my dad snuck in some social commentary relating to the struggle for civil rights in the real world, an issue that of course in 1961 was front and center in the United States, just one country away from where we live in Canada.
But though they might face a lot of discrimination were they to live above ground rather than below, it’s hard to feel sorry for these little green men. It’s true, they are a playful people, but it’s also true they take their play to an extreme…thus the pending execution. You’re probably thinking it sounds a bit harsh for a kids story. You’re right. It’s definitely a kids story of a different generation. What’s the word you adults use for those soft Millennials…snowflakes? Well, our story is not one for snowflakes!
Anyway, I have to go now, the little green men have just started to hoist the rope and Peter’s feet are almost all the way off the ground. I hope one of us can figure out something to save him...
(c) Jeffrey L. Otto, February 16, 2019