There was a small vegetable garden opposite the McCreary's house. It was a little square patch of land with lots of cabbages, carrots and turnips growing in separate sections. The Fremenn's owned it.

The McCreary's six year old daughter, Viola, loved to play on the other side of the Fremenn's white picket fence, where the garden was still visible through the solid bars. Viola never spoke to Mr Collins Fremenn, but she politely said good morning each time he drove past in his lovely small car that looked like a large beetle to her. Mr Collins did confirm that his car was a beetle when Viola drew up the courage to ask him one day, but she had a hard time believing that animals could be turned into vehicles.

Whenever Viola played near the fence, she often overheard the leaves in the garden ruffling in the same manner as her mother's dress whenever she walked across the kitchen making evening pie. The little girl never thought much about the ruffling leaves until one day, she glanced up from her collection of thingamabobs and caught a fleeting, interesting sight.

A white bunny had hopped from one bush right into the other.

Viola perked up with a gasp and hurriedly drew close to the fence. But she waited for hours and hours and the bunny never showed itself again.

That night, she revealed her discovery to her mother.

"What did you say?" Mrs McCreary asked.

"A white bunny, mama." Viola stated. "Can I play with him?"

"Is he outside of the fence, Vee?"

Viola thought for a moment and slowly shook her head. "No, mama."

With a sigh, Mrs McCreary touched her daughter's arm. "Then you can't, Vee. I don't think Mr Collins would like for his bunny to leave the garden for any reason. The little thing's likely to get lost."

"I'll put em right back."

"No, don't go anywhere near that bunny, hear me, Vee?"

Viola heaved a downcast sight. "Yes, mama."

For many many days, the white bunny habitually roved about the garden, hopping with so much celerity that it was impossible to believe the animal had even been there. Viola often remained glued to the fence when she played in hopes to glimpse the adorable animal.

On a fateful day, she sat nibbling on an apple, glancing down at the square boxes she had drawn onto the pavement floor with a stone when sudden movement made her glance up. Viola sucked in a quiet gasp and sat up. The bunny was staring at her from a distance.

For a moment, they simply stared and none moved. Then, slowly, Viola broke off a chunk of her fruit and held it cautiously in between the fence bar.

"You hungry, fella?"

The bunny glanced at the fruit and shyly hopped forward.

Viola waited with burning anticipation as with careful hops, the adorable bunny advanced. It oogled with watery brown eyes and she gave it a friendly smile.

"Go on. You can have it." She prodded.

The bunny furtively reached for the apple, startling Viola, and disappeared into the garden.

"Oh, bother." She exclaimed, slumping against the wall. "At least, he took the apple."

Over the next few months, Viola and the bunny formed a hilarious acquaintance where she would bring little bits of fruit and it would meekly accept and then disappear. Viola thought the animal appeared awfully frail albeit quite energetic. Its ears always drooped even though she thought all bunnies had erect ears. It had tiny feet and hands, and the white of its fur – which was the most captivating thing about it – was as brilliant as snow. Viola thought that if winter came, it would be extra difficult to spot the bunny.

During a particular season, Viola sat near the fence at high noon, playing tic-tac toe all by herself when she heard voices. At first, she was uninterested in whatever might be going on, but then, she recognized the voices to belong to Mrs Rita and Mr Collins – the Fremenns. She rose and took careful steps to the corner of their high pavement. The Fremenns lived in a more comfortable home than the McCreary's, but for some reason, they always left their front gate open. Viola believed it was because their teenage son, Rudy, rode a bicycle in and out as he pleased.

"We'll have to entertain our guests one way or another, Rita." Mr Collins was saying. "If you can't get us enough beef, or turkey, then get creative, but I will not have any of my guests complaining on Sunday."

"What about the little bunny?" Rita suggested sweetly.

Viola's heart skipped a beat.

"What bunny?"

"Joanne's bunny – Crust." Here, Rita's voice lowered. "Our little girl's gone now, Collins. It's been three years. We might as well. . ."

Without wasting a moment, Viola dashed out of the Fremenn's compound, unable to believe what she had eavesdropped; her heart pounding in her chest. She made a dash for home, going straight to her father in the small living room.

"They're going to kill the bunny?" Mr McCreary questioned, lifting a brow.

"And cook him to feed people, papa!" Viola completed, horrified.

Mr McCreary closed his newspaper. "I don't think there's much we can do if the Fremenns want to butcher their own pet, Viola. You can't possibly go over and speak to them about it either. Let it go, sweetheart."

"No. It's cruel. He did nothing to them." Viola panted and ran for her mother, but Mrs McCreary had the same opinion.

"Best to let the folks do what they want with their property, Vee." She admonished.

With a broken heart, Viola retreated to bed. For many days, sleep evaded her. She tossed and turned, thinking of a way to save the bunny, Crust, before he could be used for meat.

At midnight the next Saturday, after fighting with sleep and horrible flashes of Crust on a platter, Viola jumped out of bed and drew out her coat, and a little basket which she filled with cut apples. Quietly, she snuck out of the house and across the road to the Fremenn's fence. There, she squatted and tried to peer all around into the dark garden.

"Bunny?" She called quietly. "Crust? Crust? Come on out, where are you, fella?"

For what seemed like hours, the garden stayed awfully silent and Viola grew uncomfortably anxious. At last, the white bunny peeked out from within the carrots. In the dark, it looked like a spotlight.

Viola knelt up, relieved, and beckoned. "C'mon, little fella. Here, come here. Come on over. Quick! You're not safe in there anymore. Here, Crust. C'mon."

Reluctantly, the bunny hopped forward until it was pressed close to the fence. Just then, Viola realized that with the gate locked, there was no way the bunny could come out of the garden. Tears instantly formed in her eyes and began to spill.

"I'm so sorry, Crust. I am sorry. They're going to hurt you because Joanne's not here to protect you anymore."

As if sensing her distress, the bunny hopped to a corner of the fence and nudged it. The white bar swung limply. Viola wiped her eyes, marveled. She moved over to the loose wood and pulled it up, creating enough passage for Crust to hop out. Then, she gladly placed him inside the basket.

"I'll have to bring you somewhere safe, fella. Not my house. Mama will just have me bring you back to the garden again."

After much looking, Viola found an old skateboard that belonged to Rudy Fremenn. She had never ridden a skateboard before, but she managed and hurried all the way to Ms Philips' house. Philips owned a pet shop – one that gave pets up for adoption only.

"You want me to find a good family for Crust before tomorrow?" Philips asked when she had finally recovered from the shock of seeing a six year old at her doorstep at one in the morning.

"Yes, ma'am. A family far far away, where Crust will be safe."

"You do realize you've stolen, Viola?"

"I did it for good reason, and I promise, I swear I'll never do it again. But please, help me, Ms Philips. Help Crust. Look at him. Does he deserve to die, ma'am? He's done nothing to nobody."

"Alright, alright, Viola." Ms Philips conceded with a chuckle while receiving the basket. "I'll make sure Crust finds a good family to take care of him, but you keep that promise and don't ever steal again, you hear me?"

"I promise, ma'am. I won't." Staring sadly at the bunny, Viola placed a little kiss on his cheek. "Bye bye, Crust. I'll miss you, but I hope you're safe wherever you go."

With that, Viola returned home and climbed into bed as if nothing had ever happened. In fact, when the Fremenns came knocking on Sunday morning to ask if Viola McCreary had seen a white bunny in the garden, all she said with absolute cluelessness was;

"What white bunny?"