Chapter Twelve

General Loony ran! Along the endless empty space he ran as he had never run before, his tail flying in the wind, his ears flat on the back of his head, his tongue clenched firmly between his teeth. Behind him he heard the roaring of angry animals - a ragged, bloodthirsty mob with canines that stood out from their blood-soaked lips and the red claws of hungry vampires! They wanted his blood! The General knew if that mob caught up with him that would be the end of his life. And so he flew like the wind in space, yelping and yelling, feeling neither pain nor fatigue, only the cold fingers of fear gripping his heart which, it seemed, had stopped beating long ago!

Just as he thought he was out of harm's reach, the great general felt sharp claws digging into his shoulders and jerking him harshly back. He yelled as he had never yelled before, twisting his body to break free of the evil claws, some of which now gripped his tail. With one last desperate pull, he broke loose, flew into space, landed with a thud and rolled into a dark hole to safety. Slowly, the dazed general realized that he was under his own bed. He hurriedly squeezed himself out and for a moment sat on the floor, leaning against the expensive executive bed, shivering all over. He frantically glanced around to make sure no one had seen him dash under the bed like a frightened little rat.

General Loony felt his rage rise and bubble like a volcano in his chest. He felt like killing someone just then! Why was the world so evil? Why was everybody trying to destroy him? Why was everybody so jealous of him just because he was His Excellency the President, Head of State and Commander-in-chief of the Armed Foxes Potential Roasting Cabal, Nowit di Masta? Why did all those evil animals now rudely intrude into his peaceful slumber and give him all those awful nightmares? He would let them know that he, General Loony, was no ordinary fox! That he was as constant as the northern sun! He would show them why he was called Shela, the dog that bit without a bark! And Munku, the fire that burnt without a flame!!

Loony agonized long and hard over why all the animals now hated him. He could see it in their eyes - scorn, hate, a desire to kill! He could hear it in the endless tales of conspiracy reported daily by his network of spies, liars, sycophants and moles! No more tales of blind admiration! No more tales of General Loony the great patriot! No more tales of Loony, conqueror of rivers! Only tales of Loony the tyrant and Loony the despot! Of Loony the wicked and Loony the monster! Of malignant forces prowling and lurking in every dark nook and cranny of Smiling Forest and beyond, waiting for an opportunity to pounce upon him and rip him apart! He could see it on the nauseating pages of so-called newspapers that pretended to be pious! He could see it in the lean and hungry looks of the throngs of poor, starving, helpless, frightened animals who stared at his tinted-glass, siren-ridden convoys, escorted by fierce, gun-totting foxes as it sped at breakneck speed through the pot-hole ridden streets of the God-forsaken cities of Smiling Forest! And he saw it every night in his gruesome nightmares - ragged devils with long, forked tongues and protruding canines, long emaciated limbs and razor sharp claws reaching out to grab his throat and suck his blood!

Loony shivered. He felt that Sikundeek himself, the dreadful jinneh jomal nala was out to get him. He felt frightened, extremely frightened. He had, over the past few months, become a bundle of shaking, crippling fear, although he made a great show of being a fearless dragon. Standing in his jeep, escorted on all sides by his fierce-looking armed foxes, the mighty general would raise both hands to heaven, make the V-for-Victory sign, and stiffly grin as his convoy sped through the streets of Smiling Forest. But deep down, he was frightened and shaken. He felt insulted and belittled by the fact that he was afraid, that members of his own armed foxes were now his arch enemies and that some animals dared to say bad things behind his back, even conspiring to form a coalition and throw him out. And the more he thought of this, the stronger his resolve never to let go of power and to crush any signs of dissent mercilessly and remorselessly. To hell with all promises he made! Were promises not meant to be broken? Were promises not mere ladders by which to deceive stupid animals in order to climb up to one’s dreams? “I have sacrificed my precious life to save these wretched animals,” he would say to himself. “Anyone who wants to derail me will be buried deep, deep, deep.” And then he would quote his favorite local philosopher Mokali Veli who once said the knife justifies the stab.

Deep down, the troubled general wished that things were what they used to be at the dawn of what he liked to call his “glorious revolution”, when he led his gallant foxes against the corrupt and unpopular regime of Talkmuch Dolittle. He remembered with heart-breaking nostalgia how he used to ride on the lofty crest of popular sentiment both among the ordinary animals and among his fellow armed foxes. How he used to relish that endless chorus of praise and admiration for getting rid of an inept and redundant political class! He remembered the pleasant nights when his dreams were full of stars and blue skies and sweet smelling roses and images of himself floating above the world, as if he had been elevated to the status of angel by a God happy with his glorious saving of the wretched animals of Smiling Forest! How he used to wake up every morning with a smile on his lips and a song in his heart! Eager to go meet the happy faces of the adoring animals who thought they had been saved!

But gone were those days of easy slumber. Gone the days of adoring looks and unquestioned loyalty. Gone the days when crowds of animals lined the streets to see him past and sent a million cheers up to heaven. Now the animals jeered rather than cheered and there were some elements among the ordinary animals and within the ranks of the armed foxes that wanted his head. It was General Loony’s worst nightmare.