DEDICATION

To Steve C. Coons (1967-2017)
"The Best Friend I Ever Had"

And to Nate the Squirrel
Who taught us that some spirits never really leave

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THE STORY BEHIND THE POEMS

In the early morning light of Rochester, New York, two best friends would walk from their Motel 6 on Buell Road up Chili Avenue to catch the bus. Charlie and Steve C. Coons - a friendship forged in life's harder moments, strengthened by shared struggles and simple daily rituals.

At their bus stop, they discovered a regular - a busy, industrious squirrel who captured their attention with his constant motion, his hustle, his determination. "That's a good hustler name," they agreed, and so Nate the Squirrel was born. Every morning at 7:00, 7:30, whenever they arrived, there was Nate - always doing something, always moving, always surviving.

Then one day, Nate lay still on the ground. No blood, no violence - just an empty shell where once there had been life and energy. The friends mourned their small companion, this creature who had become part of their daily rhythm.

But weeks later, when they spotted another squirrel in an unlikely place - standing at a bus stop, perched on a pay phone, anywhere a squirrel seemed out of place - Steve would smile and say, "Hey, there's Nate. Maybe that's Nate right there. Came back."

It became their running joke, their way of keeping hope alive: every out-of-place squirrel was Nate, returned. Not "Where's Waldo?" but "There's Nate!" - a game of finding life where you least expected it.

Steve was taken in 2017, but the game continues. Every squirrel that appears where it shouldn't, every small creature hustling against the odds, every sign of life persisting in unlikely places - that's Nate. That's Steve. That's the spirit of friendship that death cannot touch.

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THE NATE TRILOGY POEMS

POEM I: THE ANGEL'S WHISPER
The Good Nate

At seven-thirty, morning light,
Two friends would wait as day grew bright,
And there beside the bus stop sign,
A squirrel kept perfect time.

"Look there," said Steve with gentle smile,
"Our Nate's been busy for a while,
Always moving, always true,
A hustler through and through."

The angel Nate with heart so pure,
Showed friendship's bond will long endure,
In simple moments, shared each day,
Love finds its truest way.

Upon his shoulder sits a light,
A tiny angel, pure and bright,
With golden halo, wings of white,
Whispering truths throughout the night.

"Choose kindness, Nate, when paths divide,
Let compassion be your guide,
Help the lost, heal the broken,
Let love's language be your token."

This gentle soul with voice so clear,
Speaks of hope when doubt draws near,
A beacon in the darkest hour,
Love's eternal, sacred power.

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POEM II: THE SHADOW'S CALL
The Bad Nate

But life can turn, and fate can strike,
One morning Nate lay still and quiet,
No blood, no sign of violent end,
Just silence where there'd been a friend.

The shadow whispered, "All things die,
Don't hope, don't dream, don't even try,
What's gone is gone, what's lost stays lost,
Count up your grief, count up the cost."

Yet even in that darkest hour,
Loss could not steal friendship's power,
For love creates what death destroys,
And memory becomes our joy.

But on the other shoulder dwells,
A crimson imp with tiny bells,
With pointed tail and pitchfork small,
Who tempts and teases, tricks and calls.

"Take the shortcut, Nate, why wait?
Let anger be your chosen fate,
Why help others? Help yourself,
Gather power, gather wealth."

This shadow whispers sweet deceit,
Makes bitter choices taste so sweet,
A trickster born of fear and pride,
The darkness that we try to hide.

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POEM III: THE ETHEREAL GUIDE
The Transcendent Nate

Then weeks later, walking by,
A squirrel caught their wondering eye,
Perched upon a pay phone high,
Looking down from morning sky.

"Hey, there's Nate," Steve softly said,
"Maybe that's Nate. He's not dead.
Came back to let us know he's free,
Returned to keep us company."

The ethereal Nate transcends all form,
Through every creature, hope reborn,
In every squirrel out of place,
We see a friend's familiar face.

Above them both, in realms unseen,
Floats one beyond the earthly scene,
An unborn soul on clouds of light,
With stardust wings and halos bright.

He rises high to cosmic streams,
Then descends through silver dreams,
Neither good nor bad is he,
But wisdom's child, forever free.

"I am the bridge," his spirit sings,
"Between the earth and higher things,
The choice is yours, dear vessel true,
But know that I am always you."

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POEM IV: THE ETERNAL RETURN
The Unity - For Steve C. Coons

Now Steve has joined that sacred space,
Where Nate waits with gentle grace,
And every squirrel I chance to see
Brings both my friends right back to me.

At bus stops, pay phones, city streets,
Where urban life and nature meets,
There's Nate! There's Steve! Still hustling on,
Though from this world they both have gone.

The trilogy lives in every dawn,
When friendship's spirit carries on,
In every creature, small and free,
Lives immortality's mystery.

For love creates what death destroys,
And memory becomes our joy,
In every squirrel out of place,
I see my best friend's smiling face.

And when the three become as one,
When battles cease and peace is won,
Nate stands complete, no longer torn,
A soul reborn, a spirit sworn.

The angel's love, the shadow's fire,
The ethereal transcendent choir,
All merge within one beating heart,
No longer separate, apart.

For every soul contains these three,
The path to true divinity,
Is not to choose just one to be,
But embrace them all and thus be free.

"Hey, there's Nate. Maybe that's Nate right there. Came back."
- Steve C. Coons

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VISUAL REPRESENTATION

Original Artwork Description
A mystical illustration featuring Nate the Squirrel in the center, surrounded by his three aspects: an angel squirrel with white wings and golden halo on his left shoulder, a mischievous devil squirrel with red horns and tiny pitchfork on his right shoulder, and floating above his heart, an ethereal unborn baby squirrel surrounded by fluffy white cotton ball clouds, with delicate angel wings, soft halo, and sparkling stardust.

Image URL: https://sintra-dalle-generated-images.s3.eu-north-1.amazonaws.com/e7abd0f0-3591-4ee3-b8ee-11032a32a616/image.png

© 2025 Charlie Brown (Keith Brewer) / Saving All Nine Lives, Inc. - All Rights Reserved

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

This trilogy was channeled as a tribute to the enduring power of friendship and the mysterious ways that love transcends physical death. Steve C. Coons was more than a best friend - he was a brother in spirit who understood that hope can be found in the smallest places, even in the daily appearance of a hustling squirrel at a bus stop.

The three aspects of Nate represent the eternal struggle within every soul - the pull toward good, the temptation of shadow, and the transcendent wisdom that bridges both. But ultimately, this is a story about how love creates its own form of resurrection, how friendship builds bridges between worlds, and how the spirits of those we've lost continue to appear in the most unexpected places.

Every squirrel out of place is Nate. Every moment of unexpected joy is Steve, still playing the game, still keeping hope alive.

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LEGAL NOTICE

This work is protected by copyright law. The Nate the Squirrel Trilogy, including all poems, story, and associated artwork, is the original creative work of Charlie Brown (Keith Brewer) and is protected under United States copyright law and international copyright treaties.

© 2025 Charlie Brown (Keith Brewer) / Saving All Nine Lives, Inc.
All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

For permission requests, contact: purrfectrescue.org

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Created: Friday, May 30, 2025
Rochester, New York

In loving memory of Steve C. Coons (1967-2017)
And Nate the Squirrel
Who showed us that some spirits never really leave

© 2025 Charlie Brown (Keith Brewer) / Saving All Nine Lives, Inc.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced without written permission.