Hare, There and Everywhere: Episode Three

by Martin Smith

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When Hare arrived at the starting line, he found Tortoise standing motionless, ready to race and staring forward with blinkless resolve. Hare puffed out his chest, jogged into Tortoise’s field of vision, dropped and completed a dozen push-ups on the fingertips of his left hand, jumped up and, with a flash of limbs, sprinted on the spot for a good minute before moonwalking over to Tortoise’s side.

‘Morning,’ Hare said.

‘Morning,’ Tortoise said.

‘Ready for a whipping?’ Hare stretched and flexed and twisted and twirled.

‘We’ll see.’ And Tortoise permitted himself a blink.

Hare glanced at Tortoise’s shell and read a logo: THR.

‘Hey, what’s with the “THR”?’

‘Testudinal House Removalists. They’re my sponsor. My kid sister Chelonia and her hubby run it. And their boys, my teenage nephews, do all the grunt work.’

‘Your nephews?’

‘Yeah. Leo, Mick, Don and Raph. My sister had high hopes they’d become arty, cultured types, but, alas, they’re thick as bricks, so they do all the grunt work for the family firm. They’re over there near their truck. The boys agreed to be my support crew today.’

Hare looked over at a dilapidated lorry. Four hulky tortoises—each donning a different coloured eye mask and each with a beer in his hand and a cigarette hanging from his lips—lolled at the front of the truck. They each wore a black T-shirt that bore their parents’ company logo and stretched to bursting point to accommodate their muscled torsos.

A mouse wielding a miniature starting gun and wearing a white lab coat appeared before Hare and Tortoise and said, ‘Ready, gentlemen?’

Hare and Tortoise nodded.

‘Shake hands, gentlemen.’

Hare and Tortoise clasped hands and pumped twice.

‘Good luck, Turtle. See you at the finish line.’

‘Same, Rabbit. But not before I see you.’

‘Gentlemen, to the starting line, if you please.’

Hare removed his tracksuit pants and top.

Tortoise stepped out of his shell.

‘Hey, what the hell?’ Hare said.

Oh My God! he thought. There, warming up with a series of jumps and jiggles, stood Tortoise, a rippling bundle of lean, mean muscle with skinfolds barely in double digits. Hare looked down at his paunch, and a flicker of fear whitened his eyes. Maybe this wouldn’t be the carrot cakewalk he’d envisaged.

‘Fucking with your head, isn’t it?’ Tortoise said, grinning.

‘Hey, you can’t do that,’ Hare said.

‘All’s fair in love and war and competitive road racing.’

‘On your marks, gentlemen,’ the mouse said.

‘Besides,’ Tortoise said, ‘I’m only joshing you.’

He climbed back into his shell and crouched his stumpy legs into a starting position.

Hare followed, but his arms and legs shook as he awaited the starter’s gun. Shit! he thought. The leathery bastard and his mind games had him rattled. Hare sucked in and released a deep breath. Clear your mind, you fool, he thought, and focus on the race. Forget the smart-arse next to you and direct your energies, your mind and your process to one goal and one goal only: crossing the finish line first. And resolve steeled in Hare’s eyes.

‘Get set,’ the mouse said.

Hare and Tortoise rose as one and waited for the gun.

‘Psst! Hare!’ Tortoise whispered.

‘What?’

‘Your shoelace is undone.’

BANG!

And the Great Race was on.

Boom!

Down came Tortoise’s foot as he ambled from the blocks. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Twang!

Down came Hare’s truss as he shot from the blocks and face-planted. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ He scrambled to his feet, ripped off the truss and flung it into the crowd. A group of grey-haired does jostled for the discarded truss, and after much tugging and slapping and shin-kicking, one of them squealed with delight as she held her prize aloft.

Hare cupped his hands in front of his buck bits as loud wolf-whistling came from the crowd.

‘Doe!’ Hare shouted. ‘Doe? Where are you?’

Doe’s head appeared amidst the crowd. ‘What, sweetie?’

‘Doe, my spare truss. Throw it here.’

A white blur flew from the crowd … and the crowd roared … and the white blur caught the wind and billowed … and the crowd cheered … and the white blur, in full spinnaker, sailed past Hare’s outstretched hand … and the crowd gasped … and the white blur landed on Hare’s ears and flapped about like a white flag, surrendering whatever dignity Hare had left. And the crowd roared laughing.

‘Oh, ha-ha,’ a flustered, flushed Hare said amidst the roars of laughter. ‘It’s all so hilarious to you lot.’

Hare lay on the ground and raised his legs in the air. And the crowd laughed. Hare wriggled and pulled. And the crowd laughed and laughed. Hare writhed and tugged. And the crowd laughed and laughed and laughed. With gritted teeth and one last mighty yank, Hare’s jackstrap snapped into place. And the crowd cheered. Hare jumped to his feet and shouted at the crowd, ‘You’ll all be laughing with me, and not at me, at the other end.’ And he put his triple chins down and surged off in pursuit of Tortoise.

He soon caught up to Tortoise, and as he surged past his shelled opponent, Hare said, ‘Hasta la vista, buddy.’ And he left Tortoise in a cloud of dust.

‘Asinine arsehole,’ Tortoise said, and he lumbered on.

On and on Hare ran.

On and on Tortoise plodded.

And a wide gap emerged between leader and last.

Stay tuned for the next episode of Hare, There and Everywhere on Sunday, 14 June!

More by Martin Smith