An Anthology of Tales

Viola and The White Bunny

There was a small vegetable garden opposite the McCreary's house. It was a little square patch of land with lots of cabbages, carrots and turnips growing in separate sections. The Fremenn's owned it.

The McCreary's six year old daughter, Viola, loved to play on the other side of the Fremenn's white picket fence, where the garden was still visible through the solid bars. Viola never spoke to Mr Collins Fremenn, but she politely said good morning each time he drove past in his lovely small car that looked like a large beetle to her. Mr Collins did confirm that his car was a beetle when Viola drew up the courage to ask him one day, but she had a hard time believing that animals could be turned into vehicles.

Whenever Viola played near the fence, she often overheard the leaves in the garden ruffling in the same manner as her mother's dress whenever she walked across the kitchen making evening pie. The little girl never thought much about the ruffling leaves until one day, she glanced up from her collection of thingamabobs and caught a fleeting, interesting sight.

A white bunny had hopped from one bush right into the other.

Viola perked up with a gasp and hurriedly drew close to the fence. But she waited for hours and hours and the bunny never showed itself again.

That night, she revealed her discovery to her mother.

"What did you say?" Mrs McCreary asked.

"A white bunny, mama." Viola stated. "Can I play with him?"

"Is he outside of the fence, Vee?"

Viola thought for a moment and slowly shook her head. "No, mama."

With a sigh, Mrs McCreary touched her daughter's arm. "Then you can't, Vee. I don't think Mr Collins would like for his bunny to leave the garden for any reason. The little thing's likely to get lost."

"I'll put em right back."

"No, don't go anywhere near that bunny, hear me, Vee?"

Viola heaved a downcast sight. "Yes, mama."

For many many days, the white bunny habitually roved about the garden, hopping with so much celerity that it was impossible to believe the animal had even been there. Viola often remained glued to the fence when she played in hopes to glimpse the adorable animal.

On a fateful day, she sat nibbling on an apple, glancing down at the square boxes she had drawn onto the pavement floor with a stone when sudden movement made her glance up. Viola sucked in a quiet gasp and sat up. The bunny was staring at her from a distance.

For a moment, they simply stared and none moved. Then, slowly, Viola broke off a chunk of her fruit and held it cautiously in between the fence bar.

"You hungry, fella?"

The bunny glanced at the fruit and shyly hopped forward.

Viola waited with burning anticipation as with careful hops, the adorable bunny advanced. It oogled with watery brown eyes and she gave it a friendly smile.

"Go on. You can have it." She prodded.

The bunny furtively reached for the apple, startling Viola, and disappeared into the garden.

"Oh, bother." She exclaimed, slumping against the wall. "At least, he took the apple."

Over the next few months, Viola and the bunny formed a hilarious acquaintance where she would bring little bits of fruit and it would meekly accept and then disappear. Viola thought the animal appeared awfully frail albeit quite energetic. Its ears always drooped even though she thought all bunnies had erect ears. It had tiny feet and hands, and the white of its fur – which was the most captivating thing about it – was as brilliant as snow. Viola thought that if winter came, it would be extra difficult to spot the bunny.