Allan pulls his tail around his tummy and his waist gets small. He keeps it this way like a belt (even though it looks very uncomfortable) as he asks, “Why can’t we do that as a troupe? We are community players and we—”
Mama stops him. “You are big enough. You are strong enough. You are ready for center stage.”
Mama’s voice changes; it gets soft and sounds suddenly sad. “Now, I’ve told you many stories about the good times growing up with my sisters Carlotta and Crissy.” The babies nod. “And we were in the woods when we all came upon my sister Cherry.” The babies nod again. “But I don’t live with Carlotta and Crissy and Cherry. And I haven’t seen Campy or Clementine or Cotty since we were small. Cotty said he wanted to perform on a big screen, so I imagine he went through with it.”
The babies wait as she finally continues: “I left a rotten pear this year during the holidays in the drainpipe where we were born. It took most of the night to get over there. If it hadn’t been raining, it would have been easier. I made a bow out of a strand of spaghetti and I placed it on top. But I never heard back from anyone. We are family; there’s no changing that. Even if I don’t get to see much of them.”
The babies don’t move a muscle.
Then Antonio whispers to Appleblossom: “She’s reminiscing.”
Appleblossom leans close. “Is it acting?”
Antonio keeps his voice low. “It’s thinking back on the good times. You don’t usually need to act to do that.”
But Mama Possum doesn’t speak any more about her brothers or sisters or where they are or the pear wrapped in a spaghetti bow that no one thanked her for. And she doesn’t bring up her own mama. Or her own papa.
Instead, she swings her large body around so that the babies can only see her tail as she says, “You know what to do. You were born to be actors. Tonight, act brave. Stay out of street light. Stay away from all light, for that matter. Be alert. Don’t talk to strangers, especially skunks. And look both ways if you decide to take the cement path.” She starts to walk away.
Angie steps forward. She half wails what they all are thinking: “But Mama, what about the monsters?”
Mama Possum keeps moving. Her voice is thick like maybe she swallowed something too big and it got stuck. “Make sure to be asleep when the sky turns purple. There’s nothing more important.”
Mama Possum lifts her head high into the air and they see the top of her nose twitch. “Should danger strike, remember to play possum. All the world’s a stage.”
And without looking over her shoulder, Mama slips into the ivy and is gone.
The young possums are wide-eyed.
Before Amlet was almost eaten by the owl, he would have shouted that he wasn’t afraid to go off by himself. But now he just stands silently in the shadows and stares at the place where his mother had been standing.
Antonio takes a deep breath and speaks to his brothers and sisters. He hopes that he sounds reassuring. “Mama’s right. We’ve rehearsed. We know what to do. We’re ready for this.”
Alisa’s upper lip curls and she shows all her teeth. But it isn’t a smile. It’s too shaky for that. She ordinarily isn’t much of a talker, but she sounds tough as she says, “All right then. I’m gonna roll.” And before anyone can answer, she wiggles away into the darkness and disappears.
Atticus can’t stop himself: “I’m going to tell Mama.”
Allan’s dark, intense eyes fall on his brother. “What are you going to tell her?”
Atticus looks sad. “She didn’t say a proper good-bye.”
The words hang in the air.
Is he talking about Alisa or about Mama Possum?
No one dares to ask.
Chapter 8
They are all hungry and there’s nothing to do but go look for something to eat.
Slowly, the group starts to break apart. Abdul and Allan head off to investigate the hillside where a group of trees have sticky bark. It catches flies and unsuspecting gnats.
Alejandro and Angie and Atticus decide to go dig for treasure down in a field not far away. They think they smell something rotten buried there under a pile of dead branches.
Alphonse announces that he’s going to investigate the often stagnant stream by the sycamore trees. He believes it holds the promise of little toads and slimy salamanders. Ajax and Augusta and Alberta look confused as they wander off in different directions.
Amlet’s tail still has a crimp in the middle from the calamity on the cement path. It causes him to walk with a small hitch in his step. He moves forward a few feet into the darkness, but turns back. He then looks at his brother and sister. “I’m not afraid. But I do feel attached to the two of you. Especially Appleblossom.”
Appleblossom’s nose wrinkles up. “Don’t pick favorites.”
Amlet shrugs. “Just saying. No offense meant.”
Antonio mumbles, “None taken.”
Appleblossom grabs her tail and holds it tight. “You two go. I’ll wait here.”
Amlet looks at Antonio. “Okay, then I’ll tag along with you, Antonio. Just to keep you company.” But Antonio doesn’t answer.
A warm wind blows hard from the north. Appleblossom shouldn’t be cold, but she feels the hair stand up on her back. Antonio looks right at her and says, “Appleblossom, you should come with us.”
The littlest possum shakes her head. Antonio is more insistent. “Please? Aren’t you hungry?”
Appleblossom whispers, “Antonio, I’m not acting right now. I can’t. I just want to stay here.” Antonio knows she really means it. He reaches out to reassure her.
It isn’t clear whether Amlet is performing, but he puts a hand on Appleblossom’s shoulder and says, “We’ll stay close—right, Antonio? We’ll be in the wings. We’ll be watching.”
Antonio finally turns to go, whispering, “I’m not going to say good-bye because I’m coming back soon.”
Appleblossom shuts her eyes, but when she opens them moments later, her brothers haven’t gone far. Antonio and Amlet are looking back at her from the shadows.
Antonio lifts his tail high in the air and makes it sway. Appleblossom pulls herself up onto her hind legs to make herself tall. She raises her right arm and waves back. And then Antonio spins around and scurries off into the grass, with Amlet at his heels.
Appleblossom’s mind races. I’m not ready to put on my own show. The most important thing right now isn’t finding something to eat; it’s finding a safe place. Cars don’t climb trees, and dogs don’t do more than jump and snap at lower limbs. People only go up trees when the sun’s out and they have tools in their hands. Or at least that’s what Mama Possum said. Maybe if I climb a tree I can look down at my brothers and sisters and maybe even see Mama Possum.
In the distance she hears the sound of a car. The glow from the eyes of the beast lights up the world. It motivates her.
Appleblossom gathers all her courage and goes. But she can’t see Antonio or Amlet; the grass is too tall. She considers calling out to them, but making noise at night is risky business. So she stays along the edge of the bushes, and does not venture out in the wide-open space (which is the most dangerous place for any creature to be).
Before she knows it, she is at the base of the tree in the yard next to a house. No owl has appeared from the sky and lifted her away for a meal. No dog has ripped off her head. She feels a wave of relief as she scrambles up the trunk into the shelter of the leaves.
Appleblossom’s sharp nails dig into the bark and her skill surprises her as she ascends toward the crown of the enormous tree. She doesn’t stop even once. She might be the smallest of the A-baby possums, but she’s determined and she has good balance.
Appleblossom climbs higher and higher, passing dozens of branches and even a small hole where she spies the remains of a bird’s nest. Finally she is at the top. There she wraps her tail aro
und a thin branch for safety.
Appleblossom turns her gaze upward. She sees the starry night as a field of tiny lights. On the distant horizon she locates the blurry edge of an orange moon. As her heart slows and her breathing returns to normal, Appleblossom decides there is only one thing to do when she’s afraid to perform: She has to always move forward, even if she feels small and alone in the world and not much of an actor.
She has to find a role she can play.
Chapter 9
It turns out that there are things to eat high up in the treetops.
Appleblossom hears buzzing and looks over at a moth. She has eaten moths before, and while they are often dusty-dry and bitter to the taste, they have a nice crunch. So Appleblossom grabs the insect and pops it into her mouth.
And as often happens, she doesn’t realize how hungry she is until she starts chewing.
She finishes the moth and sees just inches away a slug, moving slowly down the tree branch and leaving a trail of thick goo. This is a prize! Appleblossom pulls on the slug. It stretches long and thin, but she is stronger than the suction and it pops off.
Dee-licious!
No other way to describe it. She decides to investigate other areas of the tree, and she is rewarded for the effort. Two limbs down she finds a cankerworm. What follows are a Japanese beetle, a leaf miner, a tent caterpillar, a fruit worm, and a line of red termites. Finally, hours later she hits upon her greatest discovery: a long-abandoned beehive. Inside are honey and pollen, as well as still-moist larvae trapped in hundreds of small chambers. She has never eaten anything so sweet and satisfying! The tree is a buffet of tasty treats.
But it is also a trap.
Because as Appleblossom savors the beehive, she loses track of time. And when she finally takes notice, it is too late. The black is gone from the sky and pink is seeping up on the horizon. The sun is only minutes from climbing out of the hills.
Appleblossom argues with herself. Should she try to go down the tree or will it take too long to get to the ground? If she made it, could she squeeze behind a woodpile or find her way back to the mulberry hedge?
Every moment she struggles to make a decision is an opportunity lost.
And then the shadows give way to the full illumination of the now terrifying world. What will become of her? She is high off the ground in a tree, but exposed to monsters (at least if they look up).
And then her worst fear happens.
A door opens on the house and a dog is released!
Appleblossom watches as the monster charges into the grassy area and heads straight for the tree. She tightens her grip into the bark and does her best not to move a muscle. Down below she sees the hairy creature lift his back leg and shoot liquid right at the tree. And then the dog puts his nose to the ground and sniffs.
What follows is highly unexpected. At least from Appleblossom’s point of view. After a few sniffs the dog abruptly stops his investigation of the tree and moves to a round red ball that is in the grass. He uses his mouth to pick it up.
Mama Possum has taught her babies about balls.
They come in all colors and sizes, but they aren’t food and can’t be eaten. Like most of the things the people make, balls are useless. But that doesn’t stop the people from throwing them and hitting them with sticks and tossing them into nets. According to Mama, it is the saddest thing. For hours on end people watch other people chase balls on their light boxes.
Now Appleblossom’s eyes stay on the dog with the red ball wedged in his jaw. He starts to run in circles around the yard. He gallops hard and fast, covering as much area as possible. He runs and runs and runs, and then the door of the house opens again.
The dog stops running.
And one of the people appears.
Appleblossom holds her breath. This is a close encounter of the real kind. Right below her is one of the other most dangerous monsters in the world! Appleblossom strains to get a good look, and sees the brown fur on top of the people’s head.
The creature is not big.
And does not look very scary.
Mama Possum has explained that the people control the dogs. Well, Mama is right, because the dog runs to the people and drops the ball at her feet. Then the dog takes off, zigging and zagging around in a crazy way.
The people shouts the words “Columbo, come here! Forget the ball.” The voice is firm, but does not sound angry.
The dog stops and locks eyes with the people. It is some kind of standoff.
The dog moves first.
He runs back and picks up the ball with his mouth and then he drops it again. And then the dog sits down. And sort of cries. At least that’s what it sounds like to Appleblossom. A small whimper.
Little Appleblossom forgets that she is scared. Now she is just interested. She watches as the people walks straight out into the dew-covered grass and picks up the red ball. The dog jumps to his feet as his mouth opens and he makes a high-pitched noise filled with anticipation. The people throws the red ball. It sails through the air, then hits a wooden fence and bounces back into a bush.
And the dog goes insane.
He runs after the red ball at an intense speed and then dives into the shrubs headfirst. He emerges only seconds later with the red ball again in his mouth. His eyes are now wild and he is so excited that he runs in circles, his head held high and his long ears flapping.
But by this point the people has moved back to the house. The people shouts, “No more ball.” Appleblossom watches as the dog slows down. She believes he is acting, because he looks really heartbroken. He is a very strong actor. He finally drops the useless red ball and goes to the people. The people then leans down and pats the head of the dog, and Appleblossom can see a look of kindness.
The people has to know how hopeless the dog is and she is taking pity on him. Or else rewarding his performance.
And then the people returns to her house and the dog follows, but not before looking one last time (with real emotion) at the useless red ball.
Chapter 10
Antonio and Amlet are the first possums back to the mulberry hedge. They arrive a good hour before sunrise and Antonio carries a large, plump tomato in his mouth. His many teeth have punctured the red skin of the tasty treat, and juice drips from the corners of his mouth. He drops the prize with great relief as he calls out: “Appleblossom!”
No one answers.
Amlet shouts, using his full acting voice, which he hopes sounds commanding and filled with authority: “Appleblossom the possum! We’re back.”
Still no one answers. “She’s missing her entrance,” says Amlet. He and Antonio were certain that they would find her waiting just where they left her, and that she would be hungry.
The two possums look all around the hedge and Antonio even makes the bold move of scurrying out into the open to investigate a row of newly planted marigolds. But there is no sign of the littlest possum.
After conducting a thorough search, they return to the hedge and the tomato. Before, the vegetable was some kind of treasure. Now it is a sagging reminder that their smallest sister is missing.
Antonio rests his head in defeat against the tomato like a pillow. Amlet takes a seat next to him. And that’s where they are when Atticus and Allan and Alberta and Alisa and Ajax and Abdul and Augusta and Alphonso and Alejandro return. They have dined on the skins of avocados and the rinds of moldy cheese. They have chewed on fried fish tails and potato peels and the cores of rotting crab apples. Antonio and Amlet listen to everyone’s stories of the night, but they are both only thinking about Appleblossom. And then the sky starts the change over to day.
They all squeeze together behind a rusty metal bin that is near the hedge. No people has been near it for a long time. Augusta looks around and wonders, “Where’s Mama?”
But no one knows. Like Appleblossom and Angie, Mama ha
s not come back. The A-babies are exhausted from their first night alone. Minutes later, only Amlet and Antonio are awake (but hidden) when the sun comes up. Amlet whispers to Antonio: “Mama didn’t come back to check on us.”
Antonio takes some time before he answers. “No. But she’s probably watching us.”
This cheers up Amlet. “Really, you think so?”
“Yes. I’m certain.” Antonio hopes that he is convincing.
Amlet looks pleased. “So it’s some kind of test to see how we get along without her. Thanks for telling me, Antonio. I didn’t know.”
Amlet’s voice is sleepier now. “Maybe Appleblossom is watching with Mama. Maybe she’s the lucky one.”
Chapter 11
The world of daytime is loud and much more chaotic than the night.
Appleblossom has never been this tired, but she tries her hardest to stay awake. It helps that there are so many intriguing things to see. It is still early in the morning when an enormous yellow metal monster appears. It isn’t a car or a truck, but it must be a family member of those beasts. The monster stops in front of the house and its red eyes flash in the front and the back. The same little people who earlier was with the dog named Columbo comes out of the house and goes to the yellow metal monster.
Appleblossom studies the creature as she walks. The people has brown fur on the top of her head that is now tied back with a red bow. She has large eyes that are the color of the little pebbles lining the stream through the canyon up in the hills. They are brown, but bright swirls of something close to green are there too.
There are other people inside the metal monster. Some of them wave their arms as the little monster from the house approaches. The people laughs. She is acting happy. Appleblossom listens. The monster’s giggle is delicate. And it certainly doesn’t sound like it belongs to an animal that is mean and ferocious. No. The little monster sounds sweet.