Beware the Stirman (Mo and Ro)

One day Mo and Ro be looking out from the edge under the hot top it. A biggun was rumbling about in the open clattering and banging in the up there so loud neither of them could get a nap. Pickins were scarce these days so when a gooey squiggle bounced down on the ground, Mo’s whiskers started a wigglin and his tail started a quiverin and he was just about to scamper out to rescue the yummy before the biggun could picks it up.

“No!” skrilled Ro. “You can’t be letting the bigguns chance to see you! They might call the stirman and then where would I be without my friend. Where would I be at all? You gotta be careful, Mo, real careful that the bigguns not know we’s here!”

Mo stopped, still eyeing the delectable squiggle out there. “Why you be worrying, Ro?” he questioned. There just be me and you, a few chiggers and MaRat. They not be having any to be worrying. We’s nice.”

“They don’t know that, Mo. They not be unnerstanning us. The bigguns have a sayin where there’s one there’s lots.”

“How you know so much bout that, Ro?”

“You ever wonder why I wasn’t here and then I was?”

“No, I just like you.”

“Well, I not from this kitchum. I use ta live in the kitchum in brownouse. That is where I learned bout the stirmen. You don’t want them to call the stirmen!” A tear dripped down Ro’s face. “I never forgets Cojo.”

“I thinks you better tail me, Ro”, encouraged Mo. “It be makin you sads and so it be makin me sads too.”

“Where I lives before there be lots of roachers like me. We shared the scrapins and the scrappins left under and lived happy and quiet. But Cojo was a brave one. She liked to esplore all kinds a places like the closums and the darks. A bunch of us would follow her anywhere she wanted to go. She taughts us to try new things and places.

“One day Cojo decides to climb into the up there with her favourite gang. Me? I just not like to too highs so I stays low. When the bigguns come home, Cojo and thothers not come down yet and rest of us we worried theyd kitch um.

“I saw the soft slumpum mountains the bigguns pile up on the floor when they comes from out there so I’s sneaks in um to get a closer lissen. One biggun goes to kitchum and sure nuff opens the closeum where cojo and thothers was hidin. The squelling and the hollering bout shook the house apart and I crawls into a fold em to hide.

“Fore I knows it, my slumpin gets lifted high like and the shaking and the shiftin just bout breaks my antennas as a biggun puts its on like yo skin. I peeks over the edge of the foldum but I’s too high now to get down so I crawls up the side of the slumpum to the top under the foldy by the biggun dark top to get a listen. They a tornado out the door.

One say something about the stirman and I shiver. I heard that word before. I am a shiverin and quiverin but nothing I can be doin. The biggun had slammed the super closum and shut me out of my kitchum for evermore.

“O, Ro!” sympathisized Mo. “You wish you could go back?”

“Nothin to go back to, Mo,” His antennas hung down on the ground. “I hears them talking and they say no more roaches. The stirman ate her. I knows they mean Cojo. Must be hungry stirman if all the roaches be gone too.”

Mo sat quiet looking at the fuzzy air rising from the squiggle knowin it be toasty warm and yummy. Then he looked at Ro.

“You right, Ro. We be keepin them from knowin we be here. But, Ro, they be right too.”

“Right, too?” Ro’s antennas lifted in surprise.

“Yep. where there’s one there be more.”

“But I’s the only roach and you be the only mouse. How they be right?”

“That be more than one, Ro. That be me and you.”


3 thoughts on “Beware the Stirman (Mo and Ro)

  1. Melinda Lancaster

    Such a sweet relationship between these twos. I bet kids would love illustrated versions of these tales!

    I love you creative ability to go so many different ways in your writing, friend.

    1. ljandrie57 Post author

      Thanks, Melinda. I always heard publishers like to choose their own artists so am not trying to conceptualize what they look like. Can’t help doing so, Melinda. Who ever thought I would develop a soft spot for a mouse and a cockroach?


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