Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: A MIGHTY FORTRESS (don't write about the song) (04/23/15)
- TITLE: Iggy's Place
By Francy Judge
04/30/15 -
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You know, I wasn’t being lazy when I built my house out of sticks. It was the fault of natural resources. My corner of the land at the forest edge was blessed with piles and piles of fallen branches. I was just being practical. Iggy’s a perfectionist and should be diagnosed obsessive/compulsive. He had to have the best house on the block. Every brick, handmade, perfectly shaped rectangles—who has time to do that?
When I wandered over to Iggy’s side of the woods, to say hi, not to see if his house was better than mine, he wouldn’t even stop to chat. He only said, “How could you finish your house in a day? Are you sure you built it well enough to keep safe from enemies?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m not stupid. My house has a rustic look; you should come visit sometime and see how well I designed it.” “Show off,” I thought.
“Sure, after I finish my house. I want to build it extra strong, able to keep out an army.”
I couldn’t help chuckling. “What army would come after one little pig? Don’t you think you’re a bit extreme?”
“Better to be safe than sorry.” He slathered some mortar over a brick, splattering a bit on my nose.”
“Don’t bore me with your cliché. I’m going fishing. See you whenever you finish your mansion.” He was back to work and didn’t answer.
When Wiggy joined me by the riverbank, I didn’t say a word about his house—even though I was sure one strong breeze could blow it flat to the ground. At least he liked to enjoy life … and what could be better than listening to the water trickle down stream and gurgle as a fish tugs on the line?
After fishing every day for a few weeks, Wiggy asked, “Where is Iggy? How come he never fishes with us?”
“He’s still building his house. Don’t know if he’ll ever finish.”
“Hey, did you hear something?”
“The woodpecker tapping?”
“No, a snarl, like a … a … big bad wolf!”
“I didn’t hear, but I see two eyes—RUN!”
*******
So turns out sticks aren’t that strong. And straw, well, that was obvious. I never expected a wolf to have such strong breath. I also never knew I could run so fast—must’ve been all that adrenaline stuff kicking in at the right time. You can imagine how relieved Wiggy and I were to see Iggy planting daisies in front of his finished home. All we could shout was “Wolf!” and Iggy rushed us inside, bolting his door.
Iggy had a plan to win that battle. He kept a pot of boiling broth over the fire. If the wolf was smart enough to climb the chimney, he’d meet his demise. I’m glad this wolf had a high IQ—like I said before, the stew smells divine.
It’s not always easy living with a perfect brother. Wiggy and I can never forget to place the cap on the toothpaste, but at least we’re safe. Who knows how many wolves may come knocking?
If you ever peek through our window, you might catch us wiggling our tambourines, dancing, and singing:
“Don’t build your house on the sandy land. Don’t build it too near the shore. It might look kind of nice, but you’ll have to build it twice. You’ll have to build your house once more. You got to build your house on the rock. Build a strong foundation on a solid spot … then storms may come and go, but you’ll have peace because you know …”
*******
Song: “Sandyland” written by Karen Lafferty
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