Dan Elish - The Attack of the Frozen Woodchucks

A S J IMMY W EATHERS HELPED HIS MOTHER SET THE table that Saturday evening in early April, he had no idea that the fate of mankind was about to come crashing down on his shoulders. It happened just as Jimmy was laying a fork on his fathers napkin. The front door to his familys small two-bedroom apartment burst open. In ran Imogene, Jimmys two-and-a-half-year-old sister.

Woodchuck, Mommy! she cried, pulling hard on Jimmys mothers pants. Big, giant woodchuck!

Jimmy smiled. He and Imogene shared a small room. He was very used to what he called Genie-speak.

Jimmys mother scooped Imogene into her arms.

A woodchuck? Tell Mommy where you saw it.

The girl flung her purple backpack onto the sofa. In park!

The boy saw the smile curling on his mothers lips. Whatever Imogene had thought she had seen, it most certainly had not been a woodchuck. With the exception of squirrels, mice, and pigeons, New York Citys Central Park was not known for its wildlife. He doubted there had been a woodchuck there for a hundred years, let alone a giant one.

Now, now, dear, Jimmys mother said. Are you sure it was a woodchuck you saw?

Before Imogene had a chance to answer, Jimmys father was in the room, eyes wide. He laid the days mail on the dining-room table and began waving his arms. His whole being took on a wild, excited glow.

The largest darned one you ever saw, Emma!

Jimmy and his mom exchanged a smile. By day Richard Weathers was a lawyer at the firm of Weasel, Waxel & Whinea job he hated. By night he was a frustrated childrens novelist who had written an entire shelfs worth of unpublished books, often animal-themed, with titles that ranged from Chickens Who Tango to The Sloth Who Ruled Europe . One of Jimmys favorites included a character with unusual dining habits, who began each meal with a special poem:

I eats the feets of fried raccoon

I eats them with a three-pronged spoon.

Dinner comes, my days complete

Chompin on them raccoon feet.

Indeed, Jimmy and his momand really all of Richard Weatherss friendswere used to the ramblings of his overactive imagination. A giant woodchuck? Jimmy didnt bat an eye.

Oh, really, Dad? the boy said, playing along. How big was he?

Jimmys father jumped up on one of the foldout chairs they used in the dining room and stretched his arms all the way to the ceiling.

Big! he said. Were talking twenty, thirty feet!

Big, big woodchuck! Imogene said.

Jimmys father hopped back to the floor and kept on talking. It was unbelievable. There I was, watching Imogene playing in the field by the playground, when all of a sudden she decides to run after a squirrel. Naturally I follow. Soon we find ourselves in woods up around 103rd Street. No one was around. Thats when we saw it.

The woodchuck? Jimmy asked.

No, his father said, unzipping his coat. The giant pod!

Jimmys mother was serving the spaghetti by now. Pasta was a family favorite.

Oh, of course, she said, winking at Jimmy. Like a giant dinosaur egg, I imagine.

Egg! Imogene said. Like in museum.

Exactly, her father said, rubbing a hand through his daughters hair. Just like at the natural history museum. He looked back up at his wife and son. But when this puppy hatched, it was no Stegosaurus that came out. No, not at all! The egg split, and there it stooda three-foot-tall woodchuckcompletely frozen!

Frozen? Jimmy said. He had to admit he was enjoying the story, one of his fathers better ones. Why was it frozen?

His father looked disappointed. Jimmy! Jimmy! he said, rubbing his sons shoulders. Dont you remember last weeks blizzard? For all we know, that egg was sitting there through the storm.

Jimmy nodded. It was trueNew York City had been bombarded by a series of blizzards that winter. Still, over the last few days the weather had finally begun to warm up. It seemed that spring was on its way at last.

And heres what I think, his father went on. It was the warmer weather that made it happen.

Made what happen, dear? Emma asked.

Jimmys father looked from his son to his wife, eyes glinting. Made that woodchuck thaw out and grow!

With that, Imogene jumped as high as she could, stretched her arms over her head, and shouted, Grow and grow and grow, grow, grow!

All right, dear, Jimmys mother said, scooping Imogene into her booster seat. We get the point. Dinner, everyone.

So what did you do then, Dad? Jimmy asked, sitting down. I mean, about this thirty-foot woodchuck?

His father blinked. Do? Why Imogene and I did what you or any sane, self-respecting person in the world would have done. First we screamed. Then we ran for it!

Stroller motor! Imogene announced. Zoom!

Jimmy and his mother smiled. A week earlier his father and Imogene had attached a toy motor to her stroller. While the motor didnt make the stroller go any faster, it did cough up an impressive amount of dust from the city sidewalks.

So wait a second, Jimmy said, turning to his dad. You mean theres still a giant, possibly man-eating, woodchuck at large in Central Park? Like right across the street?

Despite their smallish apartment, Jimmy and his family were lucky to live just off the park.

His father nodded. Thats right. I stopped a policeman on the way home, but he didnt want to hear about it.

Again Jimmy saw his mother smile, but this time there was a trace of worry. This wasnt the first time his father had come home spinning an outrageous tale. A short week earlier, his subway car had been driven by a giant purple squid; a week before that, Hank, the buildings doorman, had magically transformed into a tap-dancing sea lion. In both instances Jimmys mom had laughed along with the rest of them. On the other hand, the boy had also overheard enough late-night conversations between his parents to know that, while his mom fully supported his fathers writing, she was impatient for him to focus a little bit more on his real career. Apparently Jimmys father had taken to staying home until ten or sometimes eleven in the morning to work on his books before heading to the office. Recently he had accidentally distributed a rough draft of one of his stories around his office. On the morning in question, the senior partners of Weasel, Waxel & Whine had opened their e-mail expecting to find a legal brief, only to come upon the opening pages of The Porpoise Who Climbed Kilimanjaro . As sea creatures went, his father had written, Hilma was a porpoise with a purpose.

Anyway, Jimmys dad went on, swallowing a mouthful of water, after dinner Im going down to the police station to register a formal complaint.

Jimmy saw his mothers face cloud over. For a moment he thought she was going to say something like Richard? Isnt that taking things a little too far? After all, making up a tale of a giant woodchuck was one thing. But actually reporting it to the police? That was crazy. But just then Imogene decided to experiment with hurling her pasta across the room to see if it would stick to the Van Gogh print on the wall. After order had been restored, Jimmy changed the subject. For the rest of the meal, the family focused on more ordinary matters: the Mets season opener and Jimmys view that his school assigned far too much homework. All thoughts of giant frozen woodchucks were cast aside.

After plates were cleared, Jimmy watched his daily ration of TV while Imogene sat on the living-room floor, using a PlayStation tool kit to pry open the back of an old Game Boy. One of Jimmys.

I fix it, she said.