The Diary of Hannah Plato Mouse

It was warm, golden autumn when he came to my island. A young mouse named Munifred Spiritus. His two friends who were with him called him “Munchy” because he dearly loved to eat. When he first arrived he and his friends were in an awful state, coughing up seawater and sand. Munchy’s first question when he became conscious was to ask if I had any food. "Enough," I remember saying. I didn't know then that nothing was ever enough for Munchy.

Since no one ever visits my island, I was pleasantly surprised at the arrival of these three strangers. As much as it will pain me to recall, I’ll try to tell you his story just the way he told me, while the silent wound lives on. (The Aeneid 4.85) It all started when Munchy heard of a cheese—Munchy loved cheese more than anything—that would forever cure his craving for the tempting curdled milk. The “Cheese of cheese,” he called it. He knew he would need the help of his two friends, Rostafar Ratio Rabbit and Daqwiri Orexis Duck (I still hate that wretched creature) to help him find the legendary cheese. Daqwiri Duck was easy to convince, that fool didn't care where he was as long as he could do what he liked. Rostafar had always been the sensible one, and Munchy recalled begging him for hours before he agreed to go.

“No time for delay!” He shouted to his two friends as they boarded his disheveled longboat, “at once we swing our sails to the wind!” (The Aeneid 3.640-642).

Munchy and his friends sailed calmly for three days until suddenly a monstrous wave rose over them. At the time they spotted the wave, Munchy was much more concerned about the loss of their rations than the loss of their craft, and did everything he could to secure their food, frantically tying down their rations. Rostafar Rabbit tried his best to keep their vessel afloat, lowering the sails, bailing water, and manning the tiller. Daqwiri Duck was not concerned at all; he could swim just fine. The wave crashed down and Munchy and Rostafar were tossed about in the sea, clinging to bits of wreckage while Daqwiri swam gaily about, finding a small crab here, a bit of seaweed there. I’m sure Rostafar would have beaten that duck silly if he had possessed the strength after his trial in the sea. They finally came to my shore after floundering about in the waters for what must have been days. That was the tale of the wreck that was told to me by Munchy; everything else that follows in this story, I have seen with my own eyes.

It took me several hours to drag Munchy and Rostafar to my home, while that wretched duck stood by, picking seaweed out of his feathers. I wrapped Munchy and Rostafar in blankets and lay them to rest by the fireplace. Munchy awoke in a few hours, his eyes were wide with fright. I asked him what was wrong and he simply closed his eyes and fell back asleep. They slept for three days and I think they would have slept longer if Munchy had not awoke again, this time with a scream. He yelled something about cheese and then froze in embarrassment as he realized where he was. He apologized for his behavior. I said it was quite all right and sat down beside him.

“Is something bothering you?”

He sat up slowly, his muscles were still exhausted. “No, everything is fine. Thanks to you.” I could just make out his pained expression by the firelight.

“You were screaming.”

“…I don’t remember that.”

“You may as well tell her, Munchy.” Rostafar Rabbit groaned from his spot by the fire. Daqwiri Duck was snoring soundly.

“I had a nightmare, that’s all.” Munchy said and then lay back down, turned away from me. He drifted back to sleep murmuring about cheese.

Rostafar started to say something to me, but his voice trailed off as he collapsed into unconsciousness.

I awoke the next morning to rustling noises coming from my cupboard. I went to investigate and received a swat from Daqwiri’s tail feathers as he dug around in my pantry. I asked him what on earth he was doing.

“Foraging.” He said.

“I see.”

“You wouldn't happen to have The Amazing World of Gumball in here, would you?”

I decided to pretend I didn't hear him. I thought that perhaps Daqwiri could tell me more about Munchy’s nightmares. It sounded absurd to me at the time, but curiosity got the best of me.

“Daqwiri?” He turned around for a moment, to take a brief respite from his “foraging.”

“Do you know why Munchy has nightmares?”

“Yes.”

I gestured for him to continue.

“Munchy’s scared of an eagle.”

“Daqwiri, all mice are scared of eagles. He said something about cheese.”

“Ah…yes… the ‘cheese of cheese.’”

“Cheese of cheese?”

“Munchy wants to eat cheese, eagle wants to eat Munchy.” He returned to scuffing about in my pantry. “And Daqwiri wants to forage.”

Ugh! If only Rostafar would wake up he could tell me! I heard a groan from the fireplace room. Munchy!

“Munchy! Are you all right?”

“Morning, I’m fine, just hungry.”

“Daqwiri says an eagle wants you eat you!”

“Eagle? What eagle?” He sat up. “In speaking of eating…” He raised his hands in supplication. I had forgotten all about making breakfast. I rushed into the kitchen pantry and was met by a bare cupboard and a guilt ridden duck.

“Daqwiri! What did you do with the cheese!?!” Daqwiri Duck let out a chuckle and pointed to his stomach. I heard a sigh issue from the other room. I guessed this wasn't the first time he had eaten the groups food.

“I’ll get more food!” Daqwiri shouted as he raced out the front door. He came back a few minutes later with a small trout in his bill.

“Fish?!? We need cheese, Daqwiri!” Munchy complained with as much strength as he had.

“Correction, my friend. You need cheese. I’m good.” Daqwiri pointed smugly to his stomach.

Rostafar squirmed uncomfortably in his blanket and sat up. Either Munchy’s yelling or the odor of dead fish must have woke him. I couldn't contain my worry any longer and rushed over to question the exhausted rabbit.

“Hannah, we have to go—“ Munchy started to say.

“Rostafar! Daqwiri says there is an eagle after Munchy!” I grabbed

Munchy ran over to intervene. “Don’t bother him!” Munchy took my paws in his and his forehead creased in thought. “Yes! There is an eagle! It’s after us. We have to leave!”

I didn't want Munchy to leave. “But you’re safe from eagles here!”

“There’s no food!”

“We’ll find more!”

“I can’t put you in danger, the eagle will eat you too.”

I pleaded on for as long as I could but Munchy was determined to leave. I thought then that he was only thinking of my safety. As I gave my sorrowful goodbyes to the three travelers, I asked Rostafar Rabbit one last question.

“Rostafar…what’s the ‘cheese of cheese’?” Rostafar looked at my dripping eyes for a second, as if he knew just how much his honest words would hurt me.

“Dearest Mouse, the ‘cheese of cheese’ is what Munchy is searching for. It’s a special cheese that will satisfy his longing for all other cheese.”

“Why does an eagle want to eat him?”

“Munchy dreams about an eagle named Euripides Anxietatem Eagle who is always chasing after him. In the dreams, Euripides always eats Munchy just before he can reach the ‘cheese of cheese.’”

“So Munchy isn't afraid of an eagle?”

“He’s afraid something will stop him from finding the cheese.”

I heard Munchy’s voice calling Rostafar. “I’m sorry Hannah, I have to go now.” Rostafar gave my paw a squeeze and ran off to join Munchy and Daqwiri.

“Will you come back to visit?”

My question was never answered and the last thing I saw that day was Munchy boldly leading the way to the island’s shore shouting “The cheese! The cheese!” with Rostafar running close behind, and then Daqwiri following in little spurts as he took breaks to look at the sky or a grub.