“Gord, do you know any ghost stories?” asked Cherie the brown thrasher. She was sitting underneath the bushes she called home, which lined the back wall of her friend Gord the polar bear’s home at the zoo.
“Why, Cherie,” replied Gord with a smile. “I didn’t think you liked such stories.”
“Normally I don’t,” she replied. “But for some reason, tonight I want to hear one.”
Gord smiled again. “Well, then. I know some ghost stories. Alec the arctic fox told them to me before I came here. And if you want to hear one, why, I will gladly tell it. As long as you know they’re stories. Not like the yesterday whispers.”
“Those frighten me more than ghost stories,” Cherie said while trying to suppress a shiver.
“Why, they are nothing to be frightened of.”
“To you, no. But to me, who’s never heard them… anyway, please tell me a ghost story.”
“Very well, then,” Gord said. “Why, I’ll tell you the one Alec said was his favorite.”
In the forest there lived a rabbit. He was a shy and timid rabbit, always very cautious whenever he’d dare to venture out of his rabbit hole for food. He was wary of the hawk and the eagle; he was wary of the bear. But mostly he was wary of the wolf, with his sharp teeth and his ravenous appetite for rabbit.
One day, the rabbit came out of his hole to look for food. He looked, and looked, and searched and searched. Finally he found some flowers. He started to eat, and eat, and eat some more.
When he was done eating the rabbit thought, “I’ve been out here long enough. Time for me to go back to the safety of my hole.” So the rabbit turned around to go back…
… when to his horror, he realized he had traveled so far in search of food he didn’t know which way to go!
The rabbit became very frightened. “How will I get home?” he cried. “How will I avoid the hawk, and the eagle, and the bear, and especially the wolf?”
The rabbit carefully started in the direction he thought most looked like the way back home. Every few feet he’d stop, look in every direction, and listen for any trace of the hawk, or the eagle, or the bear. But especially the wolf.
And so the rabbit slowly went in the way he thought most looked like the way back home. He was relieved when the path started looking familiar. In a short while he would be home…
… when he heard the unmistakable sound of a howl.
The wolf!
The rabbit started to run as fast as he could, but in a flash there was the wolf standing in front of him. The wolf’s eyes narrowed, his jaw hanging open just enough for the rabbit to see all his teeth.
“Well, now,” the wolf said in a mocking tone. “What have we here. The scared rabbit. But don’t worry. You won’t be scared for long.” The wolf laughed. “You’ll be my dinner!”
The rabbit sat there, frozen with fear. He knew he could never outrun the wolf. The only thing he could do was close his eyes and wait for the wolf’s fateful first bite. And so he closed his eyes, dreading what would happen next. He could feel the wolf lunging at him, could feel his terrible hot breath…
… when the strangest thing happened.
The rabbit felt the wolf pulling back from him. He thought, “The wolf must be moving around to strike me from a different side.” And so he kept his eyes closed and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Now the rabbit was angry. He decided the wolf was teasing him. He opened his eyes, ready to say to the wolf, “If you’re going to eat me, eat me and be done with it!”
But when the rabbit opened his eyes, he saw something most unexpected.
The wolf was slowly walking backwards away from him, his head lowered, his eyes filled with fear. Suddenly the wolf cried, “Hellhound! Hellhound!” And with that the wolf turned and ran.
The rabbit was confused. He had heard the story of the hellhound. But it was just a story. Wasn’t it?
The hellhound was a huge hairy hideous beast every animal feared. No one could outrun it. No one could outsmart it. No one could stand up against it. It could snap the strongest tree in two with one swipe of its massive claws. It could break the biggest rocks into dust with one stamp of its paw. It could make the mountains crumble with one roar. The hellhound could make rivers run backwards and lakes go bone dry with one look from its evil eyes. Worst of all, the hellhound was a ghost. And you can’t kill a ghost. You can only hope it goes away.
“But that’s just a story,” the rabbit thought. “There’s no such thing as a…”
Something told the rabbit to turn around. He did. And when he did, it was all the rabbit could do to not faint dead away.
The hellhound!
It was even larger and uglier than the wildest tales. The hellhound towered over the rabbit. It was five times as big as the largest bear. In shape it resembled a cross between a wolf and a bear, yet somehow didn’t look like either one. Its fur was black and brown, forming horrible patterns so ugly the rabbit could hardly stand to look at them. Its huge head was equally ugly, squarish in shape with eyes burning bright red and a massive blunt, misshapen snout filled with bared yellowish teeth beneath a quivering, wart-covered nose. Its legs were as thick as the bottom of a tall tree, with even bigger paws that had long, slightly curved claws sticking out in front. The hellhound was everything the stories had said it was. And worse. It stared down at the rabbit, a low growl coming from the back of its throat.
“Perhaps I’m too small for it to eat,” the rabbit thought. However, the longer the hellhound stood and growled the more frightened the rabbit became. If it was possible to be any more frightened. Finally, overcome by fear the rabbit said, “Hellhound, are you going to eat me?”
At first the hellhound said nothing, continuing to growl. Then, much to the rabbit’s surprise, the growl slowly changed. It became a chuckle. The chuckle became a laugh. The laugh became a roar of laughter.
“Eat you?” the hellhound finally said. “Of course not! Why should I do such a thing?”
“But… but you’re the hellhound. Aren’t you?”
“Yes I am,” replied the beast.
“Don’t you kill and destroy everything in your path?”
The hellhound laughed again. “Of course not! If I were to do that, there wouldn’t be anything left. And if there was nothing left, then where would I go?”
“But aren’t you a ghost?”
“Of course not! If I was a ghost, I wouldn’t be here.”
“So what are you going to do with me?” the rabbit asked.
The hellhound once again roared with laughter. “Nothing at all. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going.” And with that, the hellhound turned and started to walk away.
That is, until it stopped at the sound of the rabbit’s voice.
“Hellhound?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for saving me from the wolf.”
The hellhound paused. “Now did I.” And with that, the hellhound walked away until the rabbit could no longer see it.
The rabbit sat for the longest time, thinking about what the hellhound had said. He then realized what it meant. And with that the rabbit resumed his journey home, carefully and cautiously, until he was once again safe in his hole.
Cherie sat silently for a while. She then said, “Oh, I get it. Just because sometimes you’re protected from your mistakes one time doesn’t mean you’re always protected from them if you make them again. That’s why the rabbit was so cautious going home after the hellhound left. In case the wolf had come back.”
“Why, yes, Cherie,” replied Gord the polar bear.
“But that wasn’t much of a ghost story. I liked it, but there wasn’t much in the way of a ghost.”
With that Gord laughed. “Why, that’s the very thing I asked Alec when he first told me the story.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said, ‘The rabbit almost became one. That’s ghost enough for you!’” At that Gord and Cherie both laughed, continuing to do so as Gord jumped into his pool and began swimming around, making sure he didn’t splash his friend.
