Chapter 3: Youngster Yeti: The Yeti Who Never Grew Up
Conceived by Devin, Sumaya, and Maura in 826 Boston
It was the most humiliating moment in Harold’s short life. Surrounded by a swarm of his gawking neighbors and friends, the snowkitten tried desperately to wriggle his head out from the knot in his favorite evergreen tree.
“He’s been stuck in there for hours,” said the elk.
“Someone pull his tail,” said the owl.
“We tried that already,” said Harold’s mother, wringing her paws.
“Does anyone have peanut butter? He’d slip right out,” said the rabbit.
“This is just like that episode of Designing Women, where Julia gets her head stuck in a fence,” said the squirrel.
Harold’s mother walked over to him, patting his rump arched high in the air.
“Harold, I think you’re getting a little too big to be hiding in such small spaces. It’s part of growing up, dear.”
Harold sighed. He didn’t want to grow up. Grown-ups did boring things like taxes and physical therapy, and their hiding space options were severely limited.
“Youngster Yeti doesn’t grow up,” said Harold. “He stays young forever.”
“Well, Youngster Yeti’s got the Icicle of Youth in his cave, and he won’t share it with anyone,” sighed mother. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
In a sudden burst of strength, Harold yanked his head free from the knot, sending shards of bark flying everywhere.
“The what?!” said Harold. “There’s an Icicle of Youth?”
Harold’s mother instantly regretted her words.
“Well, um, it’s really just a rumor, dear—”
It was too late. Harold bounded into the woods, headed for Youngster Yeti’s cave.
Harold ran through the Suspiciously Green for the Himalayas Forest (that was the official title, but everyone just called it the Green Forest), not looking back until he realized he was probably lost and stopped. The only times he went through the Green Forest were when his mother took him to the dentist's office, so he usually avoided the area like the plague. But, a long time ago, he was told that Youngster Yeti lived near the Green Forest, so he braved the bad memories of polar bears shoving tools into his mouth and tried to find his way out.
Suddenly, Harold heard a deep rumbling noise, and Oliver, clad in sunglasses, pulled up next to him in a large red snowmobile. He'd only received the snow-coins yesterday (much to the chagrin of Harold's mother), and he'd already wasted every single one.
"Hey, Harold!" he said, taking off the sunglasses (1 snow-coin), hopping off his snowmobile (46 snow-coins), and swishing his now-braided tail (2 snow-coins plus a tip for the hairdresser). "What's happening?"
"I'm trying to find Youngster Yeti," said Harold.
"Youngster Yeti! You mean you haven't heard the legends?"
"Nope," said Oliver, "I grew up on the other side of the mountains. There's only one legend they tell there, and it's boring."
"Well, you'll be happy to know that this is a good one," said Harold. He began to tell the story.
"Youngster Yeti wasn't always young," Harold began with the mysterious, grandiose tone his elders always used when relating this tale. "Legend has it that Youngster Yeti was once an old, grumpy, decrepit cryptid, abandoned by his Yeti clan for always acting such a grouch. A strong and prideful group, the Yetis suffered their elder's nagging negativity until they could stand it no longer. One whispy morning, they tied him to a particularly heavy icicle while he was still snoring, and vanished into the snow-clad hills. Upon waking, the elderly yeti bemoaned his sad fate, his anguished cry echoing through the Suspiciously Green for the Himalayas Forest, shaking snow from branches like a rumbling earthquake of heartache. Then the elder yeti realized the icicle to which he was attached started to glow an eerie orange-gold.
Elder Yeti recognized the icicle right away, as he'd heard the saying so many times before as a child: 'If the icicle glows, its owner never grows.' Elder Yeti had, like most others in the Himalayas, thought it was all just a myth. But there it stood before him: the Icicle of Youth. And in a flash, it happened. Elder Yeti became Youngster Yeti. Eternally five years old."
Harold, finished with his tale, turned to Oliver.
"So," he said, barely able to contain his excitement. "Whaddaya say we go steal the icicle?"
Oliver shrugged. "Okay," he said, "I don't really have anything better to do today."
"Great!" said Harold.
"So," said Oliver, "Where do we begin? The legend didn't really say anything about where Youngster Yeti lives."
"Hmm," said Harold, "You have a point there. If only there was a place where we could conveniently access information on just about any topic..."
"There's a library near the base of Vertigo Peak," said Oliver.
"A library?" said Harold, "Isn't that just a place with musty old books and old ladies asking you to be quiet?"
"Nope," said Oliver, "There's a lot more to it than that. Climb aboard my snowmobile, and let's go!"
"I've never been on a snowmobile before!" said Harold
"It's basically like a car...on snow....and no seat-belts. You'll be fine!"
And Harold was stunned. Cars were no good for snowkittens like Harold. His mother has spent all eternity warning Harold about crossing the road, or being among too many people. "Too many people mean a Crowded Circle, Harold. And all Crowded Circles have cars".
Oliver didn't understand what perplexed the kitten so much. He'd not found a good enough occasion to put his snow-mobile to use. And the last thing he needed was for this kitten to put an end to this adventure before it had even begun.
he gets a car and follows his dream he leans how to drive it and he is amazin at it
He drives across the country, finding new places and meeting new people.
For example, while driving through the mountains of southern Utah, he encounters a roadside pickle stand. An old man is standing there selling home-made pickles by the jar.
"Well, well, well," said the old man, "I've seen a lot of strange things in my long life, but a cat driving a car? That's a new one…"
"Can I buy some pickles?" said Harold, "I'm really hungry."
"Well, sure," said the old man, "That'll be twelve dollars."
Harold fished around in the pockets of his newly acquired leather jacket, searching for the right amount of money. Instead, he pulled out a bundle of odd coins that looked like they were made out of snow.
"Huh," said Harold, "Wonder what those are."
"Some kind of… snow-coin, it looks like," said the old man, "You don't know what the things in your pockets are?"
"…no," said Harold, "I guess not."
"I guess that would mean you don't know where they came from, either," The old man frowned. "It's always sad when someone forgets where they've been. Makes 'em forget who they are." He sighed, then handed Harold a jar of pickles.
"Here," he said, "On the house."
Harold drove away, feeling perplexed.
"Why did he do that I wonder?"
Harold was very confused at why the man gave him a jar of...pickles?
But then he remembered he asked him to buy some he was very embarrassed... He continued with the day though
he had finished the pickles and he was STILL hungry, he didn't want to get to fat so he just drank the juice and went home
Then, when he stopped the car he came across a snow field with a dozen snow flowers. Suddenly one glowed bright yellow and melted the snow. Harold didn't want to be like the snow so he drove as quickly as possible.
He drove "over the speed limit" so he got a fine by the white tiger cop. Harold explained what happened but the cop (She was called Tundra) disagreed and said he wanted to get out of trouble and that he was foolish for doing that
Then, out of the blue a girl called Ava she was a snowkitten too. She asked him to meet her at her house.She gave him her address which was number 5 snowy road.
Now, Harold was not one to go against the wishes of young, attractive snow-kitten girls. So, that evening, he drove to Snowy Road, parking his car just outside #5.
Ava was waiting at the door. "Come in!" she said.
Harold walked up to the front porch and followed Ava through the door. It was a nice house. It was, admittedly, hard to reach, especially because it was in the middle of the Himalayas (driving from Utah to the Himalayas was not something Harold wanted to repeat), but nice nonetheless. However, as he walked through it, he couldn't help but feel like it was strangely familiar.
"I'm so glad you could come at such short notice," said Ava. "My family's having salmon for dinner tonight. I hope you don't mind my brother, he's kind of a grump. He's been that way ever since his friend left him a few years back."
"Wow," said Harold.
They walked into the dining room, where Ava's family was already seated. Her father and mother sat next to each other, and at the other end of the table sat her brother, a snow-kitten with jet-black fur. Harold looked at Ava's brother, and Ava's brother looked at him. Finally, after a moment of intensely staring at one another, Ava's brother cleared his throat.
"You certainly have some explaining to do," he said.
Harold gulped. "Hey, Oliver," he said.
Oliver frowned and rolled his eyes. "'Hey, Oliver', he says," said Oliver, "After all we went through together."
I want to die