“I think Judachew would agree with me when I say that church is not just for the saints. It is also for the sinners,” John told Lucky. It was a very touching statement. John was absolutely right.
“If ruffian, old dogs like me can come then you can expect the meanest, roughest dogs in the community to be there and in your choir. John, what you just said meant a lot to me. Maybe there is hope for a junk-yard dog,” Lucky told John.
We left the junk yard a few minutes later. I turned to my classmate as we walked back to the church and said, “What you said to Lucky was very true and your idea was fantastic. I can't wait to see what happens when the people see that. This is going to be quite a show.”
“I knew he would do it but I didn't want anyone to know. If the word gets out then it will ruin my surprise. Do you have a song that you want them to sing with you?” John asked me.
“I have the perfect number and it will have the effect we want. This is a brilliant plan,” I told him while slapping him on the back. He was to be congratulated for this key missing element.
On Friday night, all the mouse families gathered, as was their tradition, to have one last meal from last year's gleaning. The kids were playing games and the adults sat around swapping stories from Project Ruth gleanings in the past. The older boys were showing off their muscles to make sure everyone knew they could carry the heavy baskets of corn kernels across the field. The little boys looked up to them and idolized their abilities to run and carry the baskets.
Last year's winner for carrying the most baskets challenged all the new carriers for this year. He said he would carry more than all of us put together. He would most likely win that bet since he was bigger and faster than any mouse I had seen before. I decided to go to bed early since I was one of the new basket carriers that was just challenged. I wanted to make sure that I held up my end along with my Sunday School classmates.
Chapter 14
The sun had just peaked over the freshly harvested field of corn. It was the morning of our great gleaning in the corn field. I could hear the others scurrying as fast as their little mouse feet would carry them. I gave one big yawn and was out my bedroom door heading for the baskets. As I got to the hole heading outside there was a blockade of mice. “What's going on?”
“Cats everywhere. There are cats everywhere you look. They are hiding but our look out on the roof can see them. If we race out now it will be the end of our community. Ethan, I know you had a plan but it isn't working,” called back Ava from the very front.
“Watch the air and you will see our winged friends coming in to save the day,” Ethan called from somewhere over on my right side. Finally, we heard it. Flocks and flocks of crows came in like a thick, black cloud, cawing and screeching. Their claws were filled with great clumps of plants. I didn't know what type of plant until I saw the reactions of the cats. Each one was different but some leaped in the air, some rolled around meowwing, others laid down and chewed the plant as it dropped in front of them. “The crows have delivered a wild crop of catnip. Those cats will be occupied for hours then take naps. We will have all day to work,” Ethan yelled out.
The mice cheered and raced for the corn field. I had my basket on my head and ran as fast as possible towards the now harvested stalks of corn. When I got to the edge I was stunned. There before me lay a golden sea of juicy corn kernels just waiting for us to pick them up. It would be enough food to feed mice the worldwide, I thought. I filled my first basket and raced back to the storehouse, dumped it and ran back for a second. I must have made ten trips before I heard the call to stop for breakfast. I was tempted to fill my belly with the excellent tasting foods but I knew that would only slow me down. I ate enough to give me strength then grabbed my basket and went back to the gleaning.
On my twenty-ninth basket I felt exhaustion wash over my muscles. I needed a break and my pace had slowed from a run to a walk. That was when I noticed the large, teen mouse, who carried the most last year, running by me at full speed with two baskets in his arms. He looked over at me and called out, “We all have our gifts and our place in the community, Judachew. This just happens to be mine. There will be another break in a minute or two. You can catch your wind and then catch up to me.” I still felt tired but his encouragement made me want to move on.
This went on all day. I would fill a basket, run it to the storehouse and then run back to the field. As the sun made its last gasp over the church steeple, we had gathered the most corn ever. I was the last one to come across the church yard. I was too tired to even think about dinner or an evening celebration. My mind was already climbing into bed while my body trudged through the blades of grass carrying my heavy-laden basket. I wasn't watching for the catnip had worn off on a few of the cats. One of those cats was the Great Catsby. I was looking down when I ran right into the furry, gray fiend who had moved to block the hole in the wall that entered the church.
“Well, well, well, if it isn't the little mouse that sings. I wonder if singing mice taste better than regular church mice. I guess a cat will never know until he eats one. I feel terrible about this. I know you are tired. It would be fair for us to have this little get together on a day when you are more lively but no one ever said that I was fair,” Catsby said.
“You are right. I am tired but somehow, I just got my second wind. I have a church full of wonderful mice friends that are counting on me. You may win but I won't go easy,” I told him as I dumped my basket of corn on the ground, leaped into the air and crammed it down on his head.
Catsby struggled to get it off but I had cut off his line of vision. Maybe I was a little too confident because I didn't run for the hole. I walked slowly with my head held high and my shoulders back. I expected cheers and I thought I heard them but it was the other mice screaming for me to run. It was a mistake to turn my back on Catsby. I was two steps from the opening when I felt his paw come down heavy on my tail. The next thing I knew was me dangling in the air by that tail of mine. Catsby walked back into the yard holding his prize up so all the other cats could see me.
“Hey, you cool cats, look what I have. This is a special, singing mouse. He thought he could save the church and now I am going to save him for my evening meal. What do you think, cats? Or do you think I should just eat him now?”
“Now, now, now,” rose up from the collective voices of the cats.
“I can't hear you, cats. Should I eat him now?” Catsby yelled in order to taunt me.
“Now, now, now,” came back the louder response.
Chapter 15
The cats were so focused on me and the Great Catsby that they did not see what was coming. I looked up to see Faith Ann marching like a seasoned soldier across the yard with a broom in her hand. Catsby's back was to her, and he never saw the first swing as the broom connected to his head. I could swear I saw stars spinning around his skull like in a cartoon. He released my tail and I thudded to the ground. The Great Catsby thudded next to me. He was knocked out cold.
One of the other cats pounced for me but Faith Ann was there with her broom again. That cat was caught in mid-air. It was a home run hit for my human friend. I didn't wait around for another cat to make me his catch of the day. I was up and ran harder than ever before until I reached the hole in the wall. I went skidding in and would have hit the other wall hard if my Dad hadn't reached down and grabbed me.
“Nice of you to join us, son. That was fortunate for you that Faith Ann was here practicing and saw what was going on. You need to go upstairs and thank her,” he said, “and find out if she would play on the mouse baseball team next season. She is definitely a clean up batter with that broom.” I laughed at Dad's joke but he was absolutely right about her swinging ability.
I walked to the choir room and peaked in. Faith Ann was sitting alone. She was shaking. I spoke softly to her, “Thanks for saving my life out there.”
“Oh, Judachew, I just don't know what is happening. I have always loved cats but ever since this ca
t man came to town, even my little kitty at home is getting mean. What is happening to our town?
“Then this Bishop Potentate, who should be leading us with Christian values and godly guidance, sells the building and keeps the money. I don't know where he gets his theology from but my Bible doesn't say that people come to God because Bishop Potentate has a big truck with his name on it. I don't see God in what he is doing. I don't understand, at all,” she said through a stream of soft tears that rolled down her cheeks.
I jumped up next to her and patted her hand before saying, “If we can save the church then I think we can turn things around. When we were in New York, the pastor had some people who worked hard to make his life miserable. At the darkest time in the Pastor's life, they attacked even harder. His good leadership and Christian heart got us all through that period. I wonder if he would help by pastoring the church after we save it next week.”
She smiled for the first time in our conversation and thoughtfully asked, “Do you think he would help us get this church back on track? Bishop Potentate's sermons are totally against everything I have heard before from the Bible. We need our church back and we need a good pastor.”
“I will ask him tomorrow morning and thanks again for saving my life,” I told her. Her face seemed a bit brighter when I left the room. I knew that I had to talk to the pastor. He wanted to retire now that his wife was feeling better. It would have to be his decision but I wanted to see if he could help in some way.
By the time I got back to our group of mouse homes, most of the younger mice had gone off to bed. The mother mice were cleaning up the storage area and the path to it. Project Ruth was successful and now we had enough food to last for the whole winter. The only thing blocking our peaceful wintery season was whether or not we would be living here in this church. When I walked in our house, I found my Dad seated in his big, comfy chair.
“Did you talk to Faith Ann and thank her?” he asked with half closed eyes.
“I did but she was very sad tonight. She made me think about how to really save this church. Dad, even if we save the building, we have not saved the church. The church need's a pastor and the best pastor I know lives next door. Do you think he would listen to me and you about taking over the church until they can afford a new pastor?” I asked.
“Judachew, although his wife is getting better, she still needs lots of extra care and attention. I don't think he will have time. On the other paw, it is worth a try. We can talk to him after the service tomorrow. The human congregation has asked us mice to join them in the fellowship hall for a luncheon. That alone is a true miracle. Maybe the pastor will agree,” Dad said. “Now, let's get some sleep.”
I slept well. My body was tired and my mind tired, too. I slept like a tiny, baby mouse. When morning came, I jumped out of bed and got ready quickly. I had a great Sunday School class to attend. I sure loved my new Sunday School class.
Mr. Dospencer tried to lead our lesson on one of the Old Testament stories. We weren't very cooperative. The whole group of us were excited about having lunch with the humans, the great harvest the day before and the concert coming in just a few days. He did his best but we were all too focused on other things. He finally gave up trying to teach the lesson and asked, “So, tell me all about the concert.”
Campbell was the first to speak. “It is now more than just a concert. All of us in this class are part of a song and dance number. Our mothers are working on real costumes for us. This is going to be so much fun. I heard some of the songs that Judachew is singing and they sound great.”
“The community is talking about it. The posters will draw a big crowd,” Xavier added. “I sneaked downtown and listened to the humans talk about our upcoming show. I believe we are going to save the church. I am excited.”
Mr. Dospencer rubbed his chin. He had a questioning look on his face. There was a question or a problem that he was thinking about. Finally he asked, “There is a rumor that the cats are going to disrupt the concert. How do you plan to stop that?”
John looked over at me and I looked at him. John said, “Oh, I think we have that potential problem taken care of. The cats will find out that they are not very welcome.” He started to laugh and so did I. The others looked at us like we were crazy but when the concert comes they will be laughing as well.
Our class ended and we all sat in the balcony during the service. Mr. Leever spoke. He talked more about the concert and what the congregation needed to do. I grew more encouraged as he spoke. I felt like the members, both human and mouse, were coming together for a common goal. I now saw why God moved us all the way to Iowa, even though I didn't want to leave my home and friends. I was seeing God's plan more clearly now.
The luncheon was a joyous affair. My little plate was piled so high with food by Mrs. Leever that if I ate it all, I would not be able to fit through the door of our mouse house. I ate all that I could then scurried over to an empty chair next to our pastor from New York. I wanted to present my case. I had thought about how to say the words that would make the pastor see the vision of what was needed.
“Last night I was thinking that we could actually save the building, but we wouldn't be saving the church. The church needs a pastor. They need some godly guidance instead of the Bishop's teachings,” I said as convincingly as I could.
“Judachew, I met with the Deacons this morning and we talked about it,” the pastor said.
At that moment, his wife moved up behind me and leaned down low so only I could hear her. “I told him to go ahead and do it. He misses teaching the Bible and I miss being able to criticize his messages.”
“Wow,” I said with a giant smile on my little mouse face.
“And, little mouse, I have a bone to pick with you. Why in the world have you not asked me to sing our song together? I am not that ill and I want to do what I can to save the church building. When do we practice?” she added.
“I will come over tomorrow morning,” I told her. My smile kept getting bigger.
She patted my tuft and said, “I will make your favorite pancakes for breakfast.” The pastor's wife turned to some of the other women and I crawled down off my chair. I couldn't wait to tell Campbell the good news. I didn't see her anywhere. I asked the others where she went. Ava said she wasn't feeling well and needed to get some air.
I couldn't wait to tell Campbell the good news that we could really save the church. I raced to the hole at the back of the church. I saw her but I didn't like what I saw. The Great Catsby already had her in his claws. He stared straight at me and smiled.
“I am not going to eat her. Instead, I will exchange her for you. Meet me tonight in the alley behind Miller's Shoes. I will let her go but you will surrender yourself to me and my cat legion.” Catsby then walked away. I heard his evil laugh as he left the yard.
Chapter 16
I fell to the ground. I was completely defeated. I had no choice but to trade myself for her. I got the whole group of mice into this mess and now I alone would have to get us out of it. The ground felt cold on my little mouse form. The whole world felt cold at that point.
Something touched me. I looked up to see my entire Sunday School class behind. Emily spoke, “We all saw what just happened. This is not how it ends, Judachew. We will get her back and the concert will go on.”
“I wish I had your faith. I feel like this is all my fault. I have brought the anger of these cats down on all of us. It would have been better if I had stayed in New York,” I told them.
“Sure. I agree,” Elsie said sarcastically. “Then we would have no hope of saving our homes, our church, our Sunday School and who knows what else. Quit talking like that and let's come up with a plan to save Campbell and you. Your class owes that much to both of you.”
Emily shyly stepped forward, “When everyone else was coming up with ideas to scare the cats away. I had one, too, but I thought the others were so much better than mine. Maybe they weren't better. Maybe it is just time to try m
ine, now. As they say, there is more than one way to skin a cat,” she said.
I got up from the ground and looked seriously at her then said, “If the idea comes from you then it will be a good one. You are one of Campbell's best friends and she knows she can trust you. Tell us your idea. We don't have a lot of time to pull it off.”
“It is an easy one. What is it that cats like better than mice?” Emily asked.
“Fish,” said Elsie
“If Xavier could do one poster inviting all cats to a free fish fry that starts at the same time that Judachew meets Catsby then they will leave him standing alone. That leaves all us mice against one cat,” Emily said.
“Catsby still won't be afraid of just us mice. He will just eat us all,” said Izzy, never to be called Dizzy Izzy. “Oh, wait a minute, are you thinking what I am thinking, Emily?”
“I think so,” said Emily.
“Could you tell the rest of us, girls?” asked John.
“Nope. Just rest assured that when the time comes Alida will take care of the Great Catsby,” Emily remarked.
“You mean that trick I do at the slumber parties. Oh, yeah, that will work but I need to get prepared for it. Come on Ava, let's get ready to make Catsby a real scaredy cat,” Alida said as she and Ava left the hallway.
“Can you have that poster ready by then, Xavier?” Emily asked but there was no answer. He had already gone back to his art studio.
As dusk started to fall, three of my classmates climbed the telephone pole outside of Miller's Shoes to hang the poster. Moments later the first cat sat in front of it and read the words:
To Thank All the Cats
The Town Is Holding a
FREE
Fish Fry
at
Lucky's Junk Yard