I Hate New Sunday School Classes

  “Judachew, where do you get your imagination? I talked to the neighbors and they said that a nice mouse guy teaches the class. They said that you will love the lessons, the games and the snacks,” she said.

  “I don't want to hang around for snack time, Mom. It is too dangerous,” I told her as I jumped out of bed and started to comb my hair with a broken eyelash brush.

  At breakfast, Lily chattered the whole time. I didn't hear a word she said because all I could think about was how much the other mice won't like me at the new Sunday School class. I looked at my Mom and put on my “I'm too sick to go to Sunday School” face. I didn't even get to open my mouth when she said to me, “Forget it. You are going to Sunday School.”

  The time came and we all walked down to the Sunday School area. Adult humans were standing around drinking coffee. I could smell the donuts and that meant we would have something new besides cheese for dinner. The thought of fresh donuts to eat almost made me forget about the horrid event that was about to happen to me. I was ready to ask my Dad a question when he whirled around, put a finger of his paw to his mouth and whispered, “Do not forget, these humans do not know we live here. Their opportunity to worship should not be stopped by our noisy interruption.” Dad was right. I needed to quietly move to my classroom and not bother the humans. I had found that most of them are not friendly towards mice. We are quite lovable when given the chance, at least, I thought so

  Without me realizing it, I was standing in front of my classroom. My mother was talking to the Sunday School teacher. I was relieved to see that it wasn't the Great Catsby but another mouse just like us. After their conversation, the teacher, Mr. Dospencer, motioned for me to follow him into the class and had me sit in one of the chairs. All the chairs were around a large thread spool. He introduced me.

  “Boy and girls, this is Judachew. He just moved here with his family and will be joining our class. Let's go around in a circle and introduce ourselves.”

  “Hi, Judachew. I'm Ethan. It is great to have you in the class. Maybe we can play ball together after the service,” said Ethan, who seemed to be a great guy and would obviously be my friend. So far, it was going okay but that was only one kid.

  “I'm John. Where ya from and how did ya get such a silly name?” he asked next.

  “It's a long story. I can tell it later after I meet everyone,” I answered as nicely as I could. One of the girls spoke next.

  “I am Carissa and I think we live right next door to you. I watched you move everything into your place. Your little sister is soooo cute. Glad to have you with us,” she said. I could only smile back because she was right, Lily was soooo cute.

  “Well hello, Judachew. I am Ava and I think you are cute. Oops, did I say that out loud?” Ava giggled to herself and the girl next to her, Alida, giggled along with her. Alida was a little shy and didn't want to talk at first then spoke up.

  “That was funny Ava. I wish I was as funny as you are. My name is Alida and I hope we can be friends, too.” said Alida through her giggling.

  Isaiah stood up and reached out his paw. “Shake, buddy. My name is Isaiah, and you and I are going to be great friends. Welcome to Iowa where every day starts with corn and yep, you guessed it, every day ends with corn.”

  “I am Elsie,” said the next girl.

  “And I am Emily. We are best friends because our names begin with E,” Emily said.

  “If you change your name to begin with an E then you can be part of our best friends club,” Elsie added.

  “My name is Xavier and nobody else has a name that starts with an X. Then again, none of us have a name that ends with a sneeze, either. You will like it around here. This a quiet and safe place,” the boy mouse said with a broad smile that stretched across his little mouse face. I could have disagreed with him about it being a safe place upon my recollection of Catsby.

  “I'm Izzy and if you ever call me Dizzy Izzy then I may have to tie your tail in a knot,” she said with a seriously mean look on her face before breaking into a laugh. “I'm just kidding but don't ever call me Dizzy Izzy.”

  It was Campbell's turn. Her family had built their little house out of Campbell's Soup cans right next to my new home. She tried to talk but she was tongue-tied. Mr. Dospencer decided to help her out. “Campbell, what's the matter? Did the cat get your tongue?”

  “Argh, that is the worst thing you could say, Mr. Dospencer. We don't want that cat getting anything of ours,” said Emily.

  “I'm okay,” Campbell said. She looked at Judachew with starry eyes and then spoke to him. “I'm Campbell and I live next door and I saw you move in and I think you are cute, too and...”

  “It's my turn to speak,” said the last mouse as he jumped up from his seat and onto the table. “I am Rick. All these niceties may make you feel good, but the truth is that none of us will be living here in a few weeks. None of us!” The others looked at him in shock as he continued. “I heard the grown-ups talking and they said that some guy called Bishop something or other is planning to merge our little church with a bigger one and sell this building. In two weeks we will all be homeless,” Rick yelled.

  Chapter 5

  The little, mouse children drew in breaths of shock. Two of the girls began to cry and even one of the boys. Carissa was very upset and said, “What about my room? What about my toys? What about my large wardrobe of clothes? What about my little sisters and brothers and all their stuff? Will my parents have to give us up for adoption?” She was ready to cry when her father appeared at the door to the classroom.

  “No, my little Carissa. Our family will stay together, no matter what. I just wanted to tell you that the humans are having a meeting to discuss the church closing right after a luncheon. All our families will meet in the great pantry room for lunch then head up to the balcony to listen to Bishop Potentate. After we hear what he has to say, the adult mice will have a meeting to discuss our options. We can't get upset until we know exactly what is happening,” Carissa's father told us.

  I looked around at all my new friends and felt bad for them. This had been their home all their lives. None of them were experienced at moving like I had become. They needed someone's help. They needed a miracle like the one we had on Christmas Eve just a few years ago in New York. It may not be Christmas time but I knew that God could be trusted to do the best for all of us. God is still in the miracle business, as I was a true example of that. God is in control twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and three-hundred sixty-five days a year.

  The class was quiet for the rest of the morning. Even the luncheon in the great pantry room had a hush that hung over it. The mom and dad mice talked very quietly to each other in small groups. I was sure they didn't want to upset their children by talks of moving. The little mice were not in the mood to play games or even to talk. I sat quietly next to Campbell for most of the meal. When dessert came, she turned to me and talked.

  “I think I know who you are.” she said.

  “I'm not any mouse special. Just a little rodent who has moved far from his home, and is looking to make lots of new friends. I would like this to be my new home. I really like all the others in the class.” I tried to change the topic because I didn't want to be anything but a good friend to the others. “Can't wait to see what the Bishop has to say. Maybe he already has a plan to save the building and the church,” I told her with as much hope as I could muster in my voice.

  Xavier's Mom announced that we needed to clean up and head for the balcony. It was time to hear what Bishop Potentate had to say. Once we were all settled along the railing that overlooked the sanctuary, we quietly waited for the Bishop to walk to the lectern. I looked at John who was next to me. His face was sad. I knew they were all scared but we needed to hear what the real story was. No one had to shush us or tell us to be quiet. We were as worried as our parents.

  Bishop Potentate got up from the large, high backed, red velvet chair that sat at the front of the church. It had his name carve
d at the very top. I found out later that he took it everywhere he went. This chair was the only chair he would sit in. Four grown human men had to carry it in and out of a large truck that had the words The Most Holy Reverend Doctor Bishop Potentate painted in fourteen carat gold across the side.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the congregation of Second Community Church of this great town, I will dispense with the opening prayer because this congregation does not have a prayer of a chance of saving your building. Two years ago your pastor retired, and since then you have done nothing to bring in new people. In fact some people left. They were upset that I used the money that would go to a new pastor to have this beautiful chair, a symbol of my superior importance, built for my travels. They were upset that I would buy a used truck to haul it from location to location. They thought the money should have gone to the ministry here or at to missionaries. Rubbish, I say. That kind of thinking is what has gotten you into this financial mess.

  “As you know, I have done my best and allowed Pastor LeClaire from First Community Church to hold services for you. He did that without pay because he knew how important this chair is to the good people of this church and to the surrounding community. Pastor LeClaire is aging and can no longer minister to both congregations. He was ninety-nine on his last birthday and I feel it is best to have him concentrate on only one congregation, while working full-time as my secretary. He is overworked and underpaid. I like it that way.

  “The good news, which I am sure you are all waiting for, is that I plan to sell your building to a man who lives nearby. He wants to open up a cat hotel for his hundreds of feline friends.” An audible gasp went up from the rows and rows of mice along the balcony railing. The Bishop must have heard it for a twisted grin grew across his face before he spoke again.

  “Why is that good news?” the Bishop continued. “It is good news because the sale of this building will allow me to buy a new, bigger truck and to have lights installed on my chair. Can you imagine how that will impress all those horrible sinners who don't go to church? That will put the fear of God into their souls. You see, I don't use your money for me. This chair isn't for me. That truck isn't for me. The new, luxury limousine isn't for me. They are to show the world the way to God.

  “You should be thankful that I try my best to do everything for you, a very pitiful congregation. I don't ask for much when I sacrifice this way for all of you. I do it because that is the way I am. I never think of myself. I only think of you, my dear, pitiful congregation.

  “And so, with all that said, I announce that this building will be closed and two weeks from today will be your last service. Unless you can come up with the necessary money to buy this building and keep it open yourselves. In fact, to show you how much I love all of you, I would sell you your own building for only 110% of the amount that the cat hotel man was going to pay. Now, that's a deal, if you ask me.

  “There will be no closing prayer, either. Since, as I said before in my amazingly snarky yet loving way, you have no prayer of a chance.” The Bishop ended and sat down.

  I looked down at the few members of the congregation. They were stunned and shocked. One very nice, older woman looked around and said, “How do we come up with that kind of money? We are small and poor. The Bishop certainly has us in a real pickle.”

  “I guess we just have to give up. I used to believe in miracles but the Bishop tells us that the miracles in the Bible were only fairy tales and not true. It is now to a point that I don't know what to believe. When they close this church, I may not even go to church anymore. Besides, I don't think that the best use of the funds from selling this church, should be to buy him a new truck. All this is so depressing. I think I will just go home and take a nap. If someone comes up with a way to save the church then I will work my head off. If not, I am done working so that Bishop Potentate can sit in a big chair and drive around in a luxury limousine,” said the woman next to her in a loud angry voice. I could see heads bobbing up and down in agreement as they heard her.

  I thought her loud words might anger the Bishop but instead I saw him smile as he walked beneath my perch in the balcony. He said to himself, “Good, my plan is working.” What kind of plan did he have? Did he want the church to close and sell? That was mean and that wasn't what a church should be doing. I turned to Campbell who sat on the other side of me.

  “I know how we can save the church and I have plan,” I told her but suddenly there was a loud noise behind us. All the mice scurried for the holes in the wall. I heard a sinister purring and turned in enough time to see the Great Catsby picking up Lily by her tail.

  Chapter 7

  “NO!” I yelled with my loud, human voice. I charged at Catsby at full speed, and leaped into the air with both fists in front of me. I was headed for his nose. This should hurt him, and me as well, but that didn't matter because protecting my sister was my assignment from my mother and father. I would fulfill that duty no matter what it did to me.

  Catsby let out a pained meow as my tiny mouse frame smacked hard against his nose. He dropped Lily. Dad was there to catch her. He handed her to Mom and she ran faster than I have ever seen her run before. After hitting Catsby's nose, I toppled to the floor at my Dad's feet. He looked down at me, grabbed my arm, picking me up off the floor and said through a proud smile, “Jumpin' Jehosaphat, you are certainly a chip off the old block, my boy. Now, let's get out of here.” I was ready to run when I glanced behind me. Campbell was still on the railing. Catsby saw her, too and was licking his lips. Being a hero once was just a reaction. Being a hero twice could put me on the cat's dinner plate. Campbell was in trouble. I needed to save her and that was all I was thinking about. I pulled away from my father and raced on all fours towards my new friend. The cat leaped towards her at the same time I jumped. Would I reach Campbell first or would his powerful jaws snapped shut on her?

  My tiny frame arrived first but I realized that I had not thought this through. As I got to Campbell, there was no place for us to go but over the railing. I would save her from the cat just so we could both tumble out of the balcony and crash on the pews below us. I grabbed her around the waist as I passed in the air. We were still flying out over the pews down below when I saw it. There, on the wall. was an old speaker box with a loose wire that hung at the bottom. If I could keep us flying long enough, I could grab the wire while holding on to Campbell. The two of us could safely crawl to the floor and be gone in another minute before Catsby could get to us or the humans could see us.

  Campbell's eyes were wide with fear as I stretched out my little paw to catch the wire. Could I do it? Could I reach it? I was inches away and we were still flying. I snatched hold of the wire and both of us came to a swinging stop. “Climb down, Campbell, then get to the wall fast before the human's see you.” She whispered a thank you then ran down the wire and into a wall hole. As I watched her I saw the Great Catsby come hurtling over the railing into the airspace above me. I expected to hear him splat on the floor below giving me more than enough time to escape.

  I looked down to see the cat waiting for me. He looked up and sneered said, “Did you forget that cats always land on their feet? Now, you will be my after lunch snack instead of your little sister.” I froze on the wire above. I couldn't go down and there was nowhere to go if I went up. I needed a new way out and I needed it quickly.

  The Bishop had stepped back into the sanctuary to oversee the moving of his great, red velvet chair. He was barking orders as he placed his high pointy, Bishop hat on his head. Inside the hat was a silk-lined pillow between the terribly high peaks. I had an idea. I pushed myself off the wall and started to swing like Tarzan from the old books I read. I kept swinging until I was over the hat then I let go. A moment later I dropped onto the cushion inside the hat.

  “Drat!” I heard the Great Catsby say. I couldn't see the cat but I knew that he was smart enough not to cross the mean, old Bishop.

  The Bishop spoke, “Hello there, little kitty. Have y
ou come to see your new home? Or maybe you would like to see my beautiful truck with my name painted in large letters, with real gold paint, on the side of my truck? Or maybe you just want to come sit on the expensive leather seats in my large, luxury limousine? What do want Mr. Puddy-tat?”

  I peaked over the edge of the hat to see Catsby purring like a sweet little kitty as he rubbed his furry body along the Bishops long, colorful robe. My plan had been a good one but it looked like Catsby had a better one. He would get the Bishop to take him home and he would just wait until I had to come out of the hat. Once I was out of the hat then I would be Catsby's dinner.

  As the Bishop strode out of the building, Catsby followed him with a warm, playful, high stepping prance. The cat was putting on a show. It was a great acting performance by the Great Catsby. I needed to escape just as soon as I could.

  The Bishop's chauffeur opened the door for the man of great self-importance and extended a hand towards the Bishop's hat. Catsby jumped inside the limo's large, soft leather back seat. I saw my chance and I took it. I projected out of the hat, slid along the roof, down the back window and off the car. Catsby stared at me as I slid down the window sticking my mouse tongue out at him. His mouth was open and I could almost hear him say, “Drat!”

  By the time the cat was able to crawl out of the car from around the rotund Bishop, I was already back inside and heading towards my home in the wall. I walked in my front door to see my father holding my mother in his paws. She was crying until her little mouse tears had soaked the floor beneath her. Lily was laying at her feet completely lifeless, and Dad was patting her comfortingly on the back. Something was wrong. Was it Lily? Was she...?

  Chapter 8

  “What's wrong?” I yelled.