She lifts her arms and tries to climb the sooty brick walls. But there is nothing to grip. No amount of effort will get her up the smooth sides. Appleblossom turns back to look inside the monster house. She can see all kinds of objects in the shadowy space: soft-looking nests where the people sit when they stare at their magic light box. It is now also asleep. She is afraid of that box and she wants to stay as far away as possible!
And then she hears something. It is coming from above. “Appleblossom!” “Are you okay down there?” It’s Antonio and Amlet! They are up on the roof shouting down to her. Appleblossom wants to answer, but she is afraid that if she makes noise, she will wake the people, or worse, the dog. Who knows what would happen then?
She closes her eyes and forces herself not to panic. Isn’t that what Mama Possum has said? Don’t panic when you have stage fright. Well, where is Mama now? What would Mama Possum do in this situation? How should she act? They never rehearsed being trapped in a monster house.
She decides to act brave and confident. Trying out a line, Appleblossom whispers, “If there is a way in, then there has to be a way out!”
She’s not sure she means it, but she says it a second time anyway, but with more feeling. And then she starts to move. She stays along the edge of the walls. It doesn’t take long before she works her way around the largest space in the house. She finds no way out.
Up ahead is another area. She can see that this is where the people keep their food.
They store more things than squirrels! It is possible that the light boxes are telling the monsters to be hoarders. It certainly looks that way. High above on ledges she sees cartons that her nose tells her contain edible things. She spots apples in a bowl, and they are not rotten. She sees bananas and they are yellow and full, not brown with empty skins. She smells coffee and chocolate and bread and crackers and nuts.
And then her nose twitches as it detects something more overpowering than the smell of cinnamon and pepper and olive oil.
She smells a dog!
And then she sees him.
But he’s in a trap!
There is a huge cage in the corner of this hoarding area. It is a square with a metal front, and inside is the beast known as Columbo. His eyes are shut. He is asleep.
It is a miracle.
And then the worst possible thing happens. The monster’s snout starts moving up and down. Something bad is about to happen; Appleblossom can feel it. And the dog confirms her suspicion when he opens his eyes and stares right at her.
Appleblossom takes off running.
In the trap, the dog gets to his feet and barks as loud as anything the possum has ever heard. The noise is angry and so frightening. But then a light goes on in another part of the house and Appleblossom hears the sound of the people moving.
And somehow that is even scarier than the villainous dog.
Chapter 16
Up on the roof, Antonio and Amlet are frantic. Something is going on in the house below. Little Appleblossom must have survived the fall, because there is a lot of commotion now: They hear the dog barking, and part of the roof has lit up.
The possums run to a smooth square where there is glass instead of tile. They stare down through this window on the roof. They can see people walk by right underneath them. And they can also see Appleblossom! She is running. She turns the corner and disappears from view.
A shiver goes up Amlet’s spine. “What have we done?”
Antonio shuts his eyes and does his best to concentrate. When he opens them, he is set on a plan. “We can’t stay here.”
“So is it every possum for himself?!” Amlet shouts.
Antonio starts for the drainpipe. “We’ll come back when we have more to offer than our own limited knowledge of the situation.” Amlet’s head bobs up and down in agreement. “And until then, we just hope that our little sister survives.”
Appleblossom’s timing is perfect. She turns the corner just before a large monster emerges. A second earlier and she would have certainly been seen. The people looks in both directions, and then heads toward the barking dog. “What’s going on?” the people says. “What’s wrong with you, Columbo?”
One thing is very obvious: The dog named Columbo wants out of his trap. He is desperate to show what is wrong. His cage rattles and sways from the motion of his body.
Appleblossom hears the commotion, and the communication between the monsters is not good. The people’s voice is harsh. “Calm down! You’re waking up the whole house.”
The dog stops moving. Only his tail trembles as he tries to control himself. The people looks down the hallway and then says, “Okay. All right. I’ll make sure everything’s okay.” And with that, the monster turns in the direction of Appleblossom.
Appleblossom, for a moment, just an instant, thinks she should act dead. But then she gathers her wits and decides that if she pretends to die, given the circumstances, she might end up actually dead. Any performance right now might be her curtain call.
And so she keeps moving. She turns left. She turns right. She spins around. She stays low to the ground, head tucked down. She tries to remember acting exercises (but not the dying part). Act brave. Act the part of an animal that knows how to escape danger. And then she turns another corner and she’s in a new area. She is in the place where the smallest people lives.
Up ahead she sees a nest with the littlest monster inside. Next to the nest is a pile of furry animals. Their eyes are open wide, but they don’t move. She knows right away these are not real animals. They have no smell! They are fake. They are stuffed cloth.
The monster coming after her is getting closer. And so Appleblossom dives into the pile of fake furry animals—just before a beam of light sweeps into the room.
Appleblossom does not move.
She does not breathe.
She stares straight ahead and she waits. She acts like a stuffed fur animal.
The monster without much fur on his head stands in the doorway. He holds a light in his hand. This is what makes the shining beam. This hot white light spins around the room. And then it happens: The light sweeps right over Appleblossom’s face. She remembers Mama saying that “an actor has to burn inside with outer ease.” A famous possum named Chekhov said this. Appleblossom fixes her face in a smile. She acts fake. She acts frozen. She acts not afraid.
She thinks this might be her best acting ever.
The monster without much fur on his head stands in front of a second monster who has appeared. The second monster whispers something. Appleblossom cannot hear. And then both people turn and move back down the passageway. Appleblossom hears the monsters open the door to the house.
Then she hears the monster say, “Aha!”
Moments later, the house door can be heard closing. Appleblossom hears the biggest monster say, “Good boy, Columbo! You heard possums up on the roof. That’s what it was—right, boy? I saw them just now!”
There is something about the tone of the monster’s voice that makes the dog get all wiggly. Appleblossom can hear his tail thrashing against his cage. The monster continues speaking. “Well, you get a treat for that. I saw two of the nasty critters.”
The word treat makes the beast go crazy. The word nasty makes Appleblossom’s heart sink.
Appleblossom can hear the monster opening something in the hoarding area and then the dog known as Columbo snaps his jaws. She can make out the beast chewing. Then the people issues a command. “Go back to sleep, Columbo! We’ll call an exterminator tomorrow.”
The word hangs in the air: exterminator.
What is an exterminator?
Appleblossom thinks it through. The monster has seen Antonio and Amlet. But they must be safe, because he came right back inside. Besides, his teeth are no good for attacking. She has seen the teeth of the people: They have no points. They are flat and square and not
the teeth for doing anything productive. The teeth (like their absence of tails) is another thing that must make people so unhappy.
In the distance she hears the dog named Columbo smack his lips and make a whining sound. He wants more treat. The treat seems to be all that he’s thinking about now. She can tell that he has forgotten she’s in the house, because she hears the beast settle back down into his cage. He is going back to sleep.
Appleblossom breathes in and breathes out and congratulates herself. She wishes she could tell her brothers and her sisters and most of all Mama Possum how she just made it past a dog and people. Her heart is pounding so hard that she can feel it in her toes, but she is suddenly more tired than she can remember ever being. There is no choice in the matter; she has to fall asleep.
But should she hide?
Appleblossom unties a hat that is on some kind of large pretend people and places it on her own head. Maybe it will make her look as if she belongs. She is surprised by how comfortable the hat is. There is a fake bear wearing a blue garment, and she pulls it off and slips it on. Her own arms fit right through the sleeves and she is able to close all of the buttons but one.
She sees that another of these fake furry creatures has black covers on its feet. She grabs one and pulls, and the funny object comes right off. It doesn’t take long before she has her own toes inside both the foot covers. Her transformation is now complete. She snuggles into the pile of stuffed animals, and exhaustion overtakes her.
Moments later, she is sound asleep.
Chapter 17
Antonio and Amlet scurry away from the house. They move along the edge of the yard, wedge their bodies under a fence, and then scramble up a hill to a pile of dry, orange pine needles where it seems safe.
Amlet feels his whole body tense as Antonio wails, “What have we done?! This is nothing short of a total fiasco!”
Amlet’s voice is just a whisper. “Right. Yes. But what’s a fiasco?”
“A fiasco is when your sister falls down a hole into a den of monsters!” shouts Antonio.
Amlet grits his teeth. “I thought so. Yes, a fiasco, for sure. But lower your voice; we don’t want the whole world knowing we’re out here ready for the taking. That would really be a fiasco!”
Antonio grabs a handful of pine needles and breaks them in frustration over his knee. “It’s our fault she fell. We frightened her.”
Amlet waits for what he hopes is a respectful amount of time, and then asks, “Isn’t it a little bit her fault? I mean, she did go up onto the roof, and we did tell her to stay away from the monsters . . .”
Antonio snorts out his long, pointy nose, and this sends several of the pine needles airborne. They lodge like pins in Amlet’s chest and he cries out in pain. But Antonio doesn’t even say he is sorry. Instead, he scratches the itchy spot on the top of his head and concentrates. “No. We did this. She was sitting up there and we caused her to fall. And now it’s going to be on us to try to save her.”
Amlet’s eyes get big. “How are we supposed to save her? I mean, really! It’s not like I don’t care, because I do. I care a lot. But I don’t see myself as any kind of hero. It’s not a part I rehearsed and it’s not a part I can play.”
Antonio will have none of it. “Heroes don’t think of themselves as heroes, Amlet. That’s what makes them heroic. We’ve got to rescue our sister. Or die trying.”
Amlet can’t stop himself from stammering. “D-do you mean fake dying or real dying? Are we acting right now or are we serious?”
Antonio’s eyes narrow. “We are not acting.” And then he says no more.
Chapter 18
Her name is Izzy, which is short for Isabella, but no one calls her that.
Izzy is an only child. She has long wanted a sister or a brother and when she was old enough to express this idea in the form of a strong argument, she was given a dog. She tried to name him Pal, since the plan (at least in her mind) was for the animal to be her best pal.
But her parents didn’t hear her or at the very least they didn’t listen, because before she knew it, the dog was named Columbo. This name sounds to Izzy like a kind of coffee or a wild elephant. Her parents explained that this name makes the dog a detective (but a bumbling one who wears a raincoat, which makes no sense because of course the dog doesn’t do that). Izzy’s parents think this is amusing. She does not understand why.
Columbo is a good dog and Izzy loves him. But it is safe to say the feeling isn’t mutual. Columbo’s love in life (besides food, which always comes first) is his red ball. He wants to chase the thing for hours and hours and Izzy doesn’t have much interest in throwing a slobbery-wet rubber toy to a dog that will then run in circles.
This leaves Izzy to sometimes feel even lonelier about not having a brother and sister than before she got the dog. And this is also because her parents spend a lot of time now on Columbo.
Columbo demands that. He wants someone to throw him the red ball twenty-four hours a day, which of course is not possible. On top of that, he gets his hair all over the furniture, which requires a lot of cleaning. And according to her parents, he can’t be trusted.
What they mean by this isn’t that Columbo can’t keep a secret. What they mean is that if food is anywhere within his reach, he will eat it. If you turn your back, Columbo will jump up onto the counter and bring down a plate of cookies. With one gulp he can easily swallow a whole stick of butter. He has found a way to consume an entire bag of bagels and a two-pound box of chocolate that came all the way from France. Dogs are supposed to be allergic to chocolate, but not Columbo.
The dog is, according to Izzy’s grandma, “a villain.” But no one in the house really thinks of him this way, although they do all admit that Columbo has successfully resisted a lot of training, which is why he sleeps in the crate in the kitchen at night. But it’s a dog kennel and it’s supposed to make him feel secure.
While Columbo has not turned out to be the pal Izzy hoped for, it doesn’t mean that she has given up on the idea of a close friend in her home that is a pet.
She just knows the dog isn’t the answer.
It is a Saturday, and that means that the regular routine of getting dressed, eating breakfast, and hurrying for the school bus can be ignored. On the weekends Izzy’s parents get up when they want to and it is anyone’s guess who will wander first into the kitchen and release Columbo from his sleeping crate. The dog is always immediately put outside to “do his business” (as her mother calls it). Izzy finds the whole idea of a dog doing business amusing. She can imagine Columbo putting on some kind of uniform and attaching a name tag. She sees him talking on a cellphone using a headset (the way her parents do even after they get home from work). She likes the idea of the dog sitting at a computer pretending to do business, but actually watching funny videos of other dogs.
Maybe Columbo would work in marketing. He loves anything that comes into the house in a brown paper bag. But then again, marketing (which is her father’s job) doesn’t have anything to do with a grocery store. When she was little, she believed that her father went shopping every day, and that someone paid him to do this. She was disappointed to learn he worked in a tall building downtown and that the marketing he did was for a bank.
Izzy’s mother also has a job that is hard to understand. She is a chemical engineer. Engineers are people who know how to build things so that they won’t fall apart. Izzy knows that math is behind the stuff they do. At least that’s how it has been explained to her.
So for a long time Izzy thought that her mom told people what amount of chemical barrels were needed to construct buildings. Izzy didn’t understand why anyone would want to make a tall building out of chemical barrels, but she didn’t say anything. Then she discovered that wasn’t what her mom was doing. She was building things made from chemicals—but not buildings. She works in a lab that makes different kinds of shampoo.
Izzy was shocked when she finally saw the place. It looked like a kitchen for scientists.
Now as Izzy opens her eyes and raises her arms and stretches, the house is just coming to life. She hears the door open and close to the outside. The young girl kicks off her covers and scrunches up her nose several times (which is how she always starts her day), when she decides that something in the room is different.
She senses it. Then she hears it.
Izzy stays still and holds her breath. There is a very low sound that she doesn’t recognize. She keeps the air in her lungs and continues to listen. The sound is so soft, it is almost impossible to hear. It sounds like the lightest snoring in the world.
And then a second thing hits her; there is a new smell in her room.
Izzy shuts her eyes to concentrate. The odor reminds her of something. It’s the smell of her thick wool sweater when it gets wet. Didn’t her mom say that smell is like a sheep in the rain? It is a wild animal odor. Didn’t they both laugh at that?
But there is not a sheep in her room.
And there is not a wet wool sweater.
Being as quiet as possible, Izzy rolls over onto her right hip. She stares out the window to the hedge in the yard, and then shifts her focus back inside her room. She sees her large pile of stuffed animals alongside her bed. Izzy knows this collection well. She is too old to play with these things—or at least she acts like she is if anyone else is in the room—but she still has a soft spot for all of the toys. Now, as she stares at the mound, she suddenly feels as if her heart has stopped.
Because right there in the center of the mound is something that she’s never seen before. Just at her side, close enough that she could lean over and touch it, is a real animal! The furry creature has on a bonnet that belongs to an old doll, the blue raincoat from her Paddington bear, and the black boots from her circus monkey.