Rabbit Run
Benny couldn’t believe his luck. The vegetable patch at Hauntington Gardens was laid out like a buffet, with each dish carefully labeled and presented. “Better than brunch at the Sands,” Benny said to himself, fondly remembering the buffets at his favorite Las Vegas casino.
However, just like in Vegas, Benny’s luck ran out. The Hauntington Gardens’ gardener had caught him chewing on some parsnip, and had chased him into the hedge maze. Benny was still a few feet ahead of his pursuer, but he was lost. If he didn’t find his way out of the maze soon, he’d be swept up in the gardener’s net.
Worse yet, a rat blocked his way. Benny hated rats. They always got other, more respectable rodents into trouble.
“Outta my way, rat,” Benny said.
“What are you running from, mate?” the rat asked. “Bunch of pesky kids back that way.”
“I’m running from the gardener.”
“Oh, he’s harmless, unless you’re a topiary,” the rat said. “It’s the chef you’ve got to worry about. She’ll dice you to bits and feed you to the guests. And you’re headed right for her kitchen. Trust me, nobody knows this maze better than me.”
Benny didn’t trust rats, but he didn’t trust chefs either. He asked which way to go.
Benny soon discovered he’d been right not to trust the rat. Sure, the rat led him out of the maze—straight into the most terrifying area.
The wedding.
Guests were everywhere now, along with servers passing appetizers from the dreaded kitchen. One wrong step and he’d be turned into a canapé.
To make matters worse, the gardener was approaching with his net.
Sitting at the bar was the one person Benny could trust at this wedding other than Oliver: Diane, Oliver’s mother.
Benny jumped into Diane’s lap just as the gardener swung for him with his net.
“Ma’am, watch out for that rabbit!”
“Don’t be silly, this is my rabbit,” said Diane. “Well, my son’s rabbit.”
“Sorry, we don’t allow animals off leash at the Hauntington,” said the gardener. “Not even rabbits.”
“He’s a service rabbit.” Diane stroked Benny’s head. “Surely you make exceptions for service rabbits. Doctor’s orders. I’m a registered nurse. Here, we have all the paperwork somewhere.”
Diane opened her purse and pulled out a stethoscope, some tissues, and various snacks.
“No, that’s fine, ma’am,” said the gardener kindly. “We just can’t have him in the gardens. If you like, we have a petting zoo for rabbits, goats, and geese.”
Benny yelped in horror.
“No, but thank you,” said Diane as the gardener walked away, shaking his head in puzzlement.
Oliver’s mother wagged her finger at Benny. “You know not to go running away like that.”
She stared at the rabbit, then noticed Uncle Jeff standing behind the bar.
“Oh, phew. You’re still here. For a second I thought I heard the rabbit talking!”
Uncle Jeff smiled and placed a crudité platter in front of her. “Hungry?”
“No, but I’m sure he is.” Diane swung Benny onto the bar. He immediately started nibbling. Even though he was beyond full, a little bit of celery couldn’t hurt.
“Man, am I tired!” Diane yawned as Uncle Jeff started rinsing glasses. “I haven’t slept in days. Oh, the life of an ER nurse.”
His mouth full of broccoli and carrots, Benny tried his best to make polite conversation. “Sounds like show business. Long hours, late nights. You don’t choose the life, it chooses you.”
“Cheers to that,” Diane said.
She clinked glasses with a confused Uncle Jeff, who was drying a wet glass with a rag. He shrugged and ducked below the bar.
“I wanted a quiet life,” Benny continued. “A little burrow in the country. Twenty . . . thirty kids max. But Daisy had to have a big wedding. So we go to Vegas. What happens? She runs off with some high-rolling hare and leaves me at the altar!”
“That’s such a sad story, Jeff,” said Diane, still thinking it was the bartender talking. “But honestly, twenty kids is too many for anybody.”
“Sure is,” said Jeff, standing again. As far as he was concerned, one kid was too many.
Benny finished the last of the carrots and crawled into Oliver’s mother’s lap. Maybe she’d have more snacks. Moms often carried snacks.
