Groundhog

Groundhog

A short fiction story by Forrest Pritchard

It happened that Chuck had a garden next to his woodpile so he could throw the chips and mulch without much work. But what he didn't know was that a groundhog had come by near the end of summer to settle himself under the woodpile for his winter nap.

"If you grab a groundhog by the tail he's liable to either bite you or 

ask you which county you're from." 

-from Abel's West Virginia Sayings 

To hear Cecil tell it, it weren't more than a couple years back. But 

little Chuck's grown up, and big Chuck and Mrs. Peters ain't half as 

spry as they used to be. It was a little while before you came, back 

when the Tompkins were still living in your all's place. Little Chuck 

was only a little guy back then, and big Chuck was still working with 

the saw mill's gang. 

You know that old dirt road just down around the corner? Well, there 

used to be an old labor camp where the pickers used to stay in the 

fall. That had been all grown over for some time, and Chuck used to 

get his firewood there. Little Chuck weren't much bigger than my knee 

when big Chuck would have him out there, picking up kindling sticks and 

dried bark and such. Chuck had a great big wood burning stove back 

then, heating up the whole house with it. 

Now, big Chuck had an old stack of wood behind his house. He'd get so 

much wood in the fall that come winter he'd have enough to last clear 

through. As it was, he never got to the bottom of it, and there was 

logs down on the ground that was either half-sunk in the dirt or rotted 

away. But it came to one fall where Chuck had been laid up with a 

busted foot from the mill, and he didn't get as much cutting done as 

he'd like. Folks weren't around so much then as they are now, but a 

couple of fellahs brought a cord or two of hickory over. That's hard, 

slow burning wood, and it pushed them through the last big snow. With 

what he had left over from the year before they made out all right, and 

it was only toward the last cold snap that they reached the bottom. 

Little Chuck was real little, but he could carry an armload of sticks, 

and sometimes manage to wrassle a good sized-log in when big Chuck was 

out working or Mrs. Peters was busy. The pile was getting to the 

bottom, and little Chuck was left with what he could get. As it was 

getting a little bit warmer, he was able to pull some of the half-sunk 

wood out of the ground that weren't rotted too bad. Even back then, he 

was always careful to bang the dirt off the sticks before he brought 

them in the house. He was a smart little guy. 

It happened that Chuck had a garden next to his woodpile so he could 

throw the chips and mulch without much work. But what he didn't know 

was that a groundhog had come by near the end of summer to settle 

himself under the woodpile for his winter nap. Big Chuck figures that 

the old hog wanted to get an early jump on spring, it being right near 

the snap peas, and all. So here was little Chuck pulling and tugging on 

a old stick stuck in the ground when out it comes bringing with it a 

big hunk of dirt. Little Chuck saw that he'd made a good-sized hole in 

the ground, and when he looked down in it he seen that woodchuck curled 

up real dead-like. What had really happened was he'd pulled the top off 

the burrow, and caught that hog napping. Like I said, there was a 

little cold snap, and the groundhog hadn't woken up any yet. 

Chuck forgot about hauling wood, I tell you! Here was an 

honest-to-goodness dead woodchuck thrown right at his feet! Just to 

make sure, he grabbed a long piece of kindling wood and poked him a 

little bit. Little Chuck knew better than to go around messing with 

critters without first making sure they was dead. When the hog didn't 

move any he was so happy he reached down and grabbed it around the 

middle and pulled it out and took it right in the house. He didn't 

know what to think. His story is, he thought it was stone-cold dead, 

but I ask him later, "Why then did you want to bring an old dead 

varmint in the house for, anyway," but even ten years later he'd just 

smile and shrug his shoulders. That little Chuck was just a little 

boy, after all. 

He took it straight away to his room and laid down and set there 

looking at it for awhile. But it weren't too long before little Chuck 

heard his pa hollering about the firewood he was supposed to have brung 

in, so he went back out to get an arm-load before he got a whipping. 

But while he was outside, that groundhog perked himself up a bit and 

decided to have a look at his new surroundings. It weren't that often 

that he had laid down one place and woke up in another, and he was 

mighty confounded. He wobbled around a little bit, and since little 

Chuck had left his door open, the hog made off toward the living room 

where that nice warm fire was burning. Now, it happened that big Chuck 

had cleaned out the old wood stove earlier, and left the bucket full of 

ashes setting next to the fireplace. When that groundhog caught a 

snoot-full of those warm ashes, he decided to climb up in there and 

make a little nest for himself. Those hogs love that sort of thing. 

By the time he got well-settled in he had rolled around so much that 

his fur was near pure-white. But Chuck must have left a hot coal in 

there or two, though, 'cause that woodchuck sprung out of the bucket, 

knocking ashes all over the floor. Then he scurried back to little 

Chuck's room to work on his burnt fur. 

By this time little Chuck came in with big Chuck, as he was too little 

to put the wood in by himself. They both saw those ashes all over the 

place, and little Chuck didn't know what had happened. But he seen 

that big Chuck was getting a look in his eyes that meant a whipping was 

coming. He knew he hadn't done it, but instead of trying to explain it 

to his pa he just lain down the wood while his pa was inspecting the 

damage, and ran to his room before big Chuck could collar him. Big 

Chuck weren't so mad. He knew how boys are, and figured that little 

Chuck had just wanted to help him with cleaning out the ashes some. He 

was straightaway disappointed that his son hadn't done a better job, 

though. 

That groundhog heard little Chuck coming and he didn't know what to 

do. From his instincts he backed himself into a corner so as to have a 

good defense. Little Chuck had plumb near forgot about the groundhog 

for fear of his daddy's switch, and as he locked his door (just in 

case) he thought he could breathe easy. Now, the Peters ain't no more 

superstitious than your average family, but when little Chuck saw that 

his dead groundhog was not only up and about, but white as a sheet to 

boot, he thought twice about the ghost-stories he'd heard. If he had 

known that he was going to bring a spook in the house, and a groundhog 

spook at that, he would have left it in the hole instead of disturbing 

its peace. 

He stood there looking at the groundhog, and the groundhog sat there 

looking at him. Neither one of them moved an inch, they was both so 

paralyzed with fear. Little Chuck couldn't stand it anymore. He give 

out a scream and threw his hands in the air. The groundhog thought 

that this was an attack, and he stood up on his hind legs, barred his 

teeth, and give out a hiss like a rattle-snake. This scared little 

Chuck about half-way out of his skull, and he started crying and 

begging that groundhog not to kill him. He tried to open the door but 

forgot to unlock it. Looking over his shoulder, he seen that groundhog 

coming toward him, paws out front, like in that Frankenstein movie he 

had seen in town. He seen death in those eyes. The groundhog wasn't 

sure what was going on, but he gave out another hiss and decided to 

watch what happened. That hissing set little Chuck's hair straight out 

on end, and he knew that if it hissed again he'd be a goner for 

certain. He was crying and blubbering so hard that he could hardly see 

straight, but he managed to get the door open and get outside. The 

groundhog was a might bit perturbed by all of the excitement, so he 

licked himself clean and curled up to sleep. 

Little Chuck knew that one way or another, he was bound to get a 

whipping. First off, he had brought a dead varmint in the house 

without cleaning it or making sure that it was really dead. Second, 

his room was now haunted, and he'd probably have to get Reverend Lester 

down the road for an ex-cer-cizing. Third off, he had forgot his 

chores and his pa thought he'd made a mess of the living room. After 

he thought about it for a while, he decided to pretend that nothing at 

all had happened, and kind of play it by ear. On second thought, 

though, he was a little sorry that he couldn't ever go in his room 

again. 

Anyway, it weren't too long before little Chuck got called to dinner. 

He held his breath when he walked past his room as to fend off any evil 

spirits lurking about the place. When he looked in though, that 

groundhog was nowhere to be seen. At dinner he brought it up that he 

had found an old dead groundhog under the woodpile, and big Chuck said 

that it was right peculiar to find a groundhog out and about, dead 

even, this early. Little Chuck said that it weren't out and about at 

all, but underground. Big Chuck asked him how he'd happen to see a 

groundhog underground, and little Chuck told how he'd pulled the log 

out. Mrs. Peters asked him what he'd done with it, and little Chuck, 

remembering his plan, said he'd just poked it with a stick and left it 

lying there. Big Chuck said that the woodchuck was probably 

hibernating, and that he'd go have a look after dinner. 

But it was just about this time that that old groundhog decided to poke 

his head around the corner to see what smelled so good (it was probably 

Mrs. Peters's cooking-greens). Jake, their hound dog, was sitting 

right under the table though, and he caught a big whuff of that critter 

and set so suddenly to barking that big Chuck jumped about clean out of 

his skin. That groundhog thought twice about those greens after seeing 

old Jake, and he turned tail and run the other way. Big Chuck and Mrs. 

Peters couldn't figure out what had set Jake off so, but little Chuck 

had a pretty good idea. Mrs. Peters was just going in to see what Jake 

was up to when in come that groundhog running like his tail was on 

fire. She was coming toward him just like he was coming toward her, 

and when they smacked each other, they fell back, stunned-like. Mrs. 

Peters screamed. The groundhog let out a scream. Mrs. Peters screamed 

again, and the groundhog, who was pretty confused by this time, jumped 

straight at her. Now, whether Mrs. Peters fainted or whether that 

groundhog was full of super-strength from the excitement, nobody could 

ever say. But woman and critter both went down in a tumble of hair and 

fur before the groundhog straightened himself out and got away again. 

By this time big Chuck had figured out what was going on. He pulled 

his twelve-gauge down from the wall, and checked his shells. That boy 

was still recovering from his surprise at seeing that groundhog alive 

and whole when he saw his pa swinging that gun around. Little Chuck 

thought big Chuck was going to shoot him for being so bad, so he 

started crying and screaming again. Big Chuck figured that the only 

way to settle the whole thing was to get the job done himself, so he 

set off with his gun. 

Meantime, Jake thought he had that woodchuck cornered, but it made such 

a show of clawing and biting that he let down his guard and it got 

away. Big Chuck run after him with his gun, following it into the 

living room. That hog jumped up on the bureau, and stood still, 

possum-like, hoping Chuck wouldn't see him. But Chuck caught sight of 

him from the corner of his eye and let out a blast from his 

twelve-gauge. The hog had a half-second jump on him though, and Chuck 

accidentally blew up a self-portrait that his mother-in-law had sent 

them for Christmas. To hear Chuck tell it, I'm not so sure he wasn't 

aiming for it. 

That groundhog had finally run out of steam, and when Chuck caught up 

to it he had no trouble with grabbing it around the scruff of the 

neck. He was feeling real ornery, so he took it straight to the 

kitchen and made quick work of it with his knife. The next night they 

invited me over, and we all ate groundhog stew with Mrs. Peters' hot 

buttered biscuits. 

That's the whole of it. You can go ask old Chuck, too, if you don't 

believe me. But don't ask Cecil. He never could get that story 

right.