“Are you worried about him?” asked Pine.
“Naw,” said Junior. “Mephitis can freaking well take care of himself. You’ll see, he’ll be back soon. While we’re waiting, I can show you how to dye your fur.”
“Oh wow!”
Junior led his two new friends to the blackberry bush. “It’s these berries,” he explained. “My friend—who’s a lot bigger than me—squished the berries over me. Turned me red fast.”
“Maybe we could manage it,” suggested Laurel.
“Give it a shot,” said Junior as he searched about, then found a large blackberry and plucked it. He and Laurel held it over Pine’s head, and together they squeezed. The red juice ran down. Laughing, the young mouse rubbed it over his fur. In moments he was mostly red, very much like Junior. A second berry completed the transformation.
“My turn,” called a gleeful Laurel.
Junior and Pine repeated the process.
“How do we look?” said Pine.
“Wicked nasty,” said Junior.
“I bet this starts a whole new style at Gray House,” suggested Laurel. “Doing the stinky red.”
“Only thing is,” Pine pointed out, “we still need the smell.”
“Have to wait for my friend,” said Junior.
“Why don’t you climb the tree and search for him?” suggested Laurel.
“Cool!” Junior found a low-hanging branch, grabbed hold of its end and, with rear legs dangling, hauled himself up. Then he moved, slothlike, upside down along the branch. Upon reaching a thicker part of the branch, he swung topside and began to run along it. At the tree trunk he moved higher, then out again along a thick branch. At the farthest end he was able to look out over most of the orchard. First he gazed in the direction of Gray House, and then toward Glitter Creek. Finally he looked east, where Tar Road curved. Amid the tall grasses he spied Mephitis’s tail moving along like a floppy black-and-white striped flag.
Junior sped down the tree trunk.
“Did you see him?” said Pine.
“Follow me!” cried Junior as he raced away. Every now and then he paused to call, “Hey, Mephitis! Wait up!”
The other mice stayed close.
At last Junior received a returning “Yo!” to his call. Plunging forward, he burst upon his friend. To his surprise, Ereth was at Mephitis’s side.
“Hey,” said Junior, “I thought you were going to wait for me over there.”
“Got tired of waiting,” said Mephitis.
“Oh.” Junior looked at Ereth. “What are you doing here?”
“I go where I want, slush socks. But the last time I saw you, you were black. You’ve turned red.”
“Changed my mind.”
The other mice arrived.
“Who are these two?” asked Mephitis.
“Some new friends,” said Junior, grinning. “Pine, Laurel, this is my best friend, Mephitis. This is my Uncle Ereth.”
The two mice gazed up at Ereth with wide eyes. “Is he a . . . porcupine?”
“Yeah.”
“Then how come he’s your uncle?”
“Come on,” said Junior. “Anyone can be an uncle.”
“Why are these two mice red?” demanded Ereth.
“They want to look like me,” explained Junior, with a glance at Mephitis. The skunk grinned.
“Is that true?” snapped Ereth.
“Yes, sir,” said Laurel.
“Galloping galingales!” cried Ereth. “Why?”
“It’s doing the stinky red, sir,” said Pine.
“We want to be just like Junior,” added Laurel.
“Brainless butter buckets,” muttered Ereth with a shake of his head. “The whole world has turned stupid. Where’s your triangulated toothbrush of a mother?” he asked Junior. “Is she all right?”
“Sure,” said Junior. “Except, listen to this.” He told Ereth and Mephitis about the bulldozer as well as the man who had come from the deconstruction company.
“Messing around with people is tricky,” said Ereth. “I better look at this bulldozer. Show me where it is,” he demanded.
“Oh, yes, sir,” said Pine. “Be happy to. It’s just over this way.”
As Ereth, Pine, and Laurel went ahead, Junior turned to Mephitis. “Hey, how come the porcupine showed up?” he whispered.
Mephitis shrugged. “He’s worried about your mother.”
“He’s always worried. Was he screaming at you?”
“Naw. We’ve been talking. Actually, he’s pretty cool.”
“He is?” said Junior.
“And he swears,” said Mephitis, “a whole lot better than we do.”
Up ahead, Pine said to Ereth, “You really don’t have to worry about the bulldozer, sir. Miss Poppy will take care of everything.”
“Maybe,” muttered Ereth.
“And after she does, she’s going to stay at Gray House and be the next leader of the whole family.”
Ereth stopped short. “Frozen eyeball fungus,” he cried. “She’s not doing anything of the kind!”
“Oh, but she is, sir,” said Laurel, shrinking back before the force of Ereth’s anger.
“Who told you that?” cried Ereth.
“Her father, sir. Lungwort.”
“Who the crispy toad gas does he think he is, telling Poppy what she can or can’t do? He’ll have to deal with me first. She is not going to stay here. Not if I have to knock down Gray House myself!”
CHAPTER 29
Poppy Tries to Plan
POPPY PLODDED SLOWLY BACK to Gray House. The bulldozer was a monster. A gigantic monster. And it would be driven by unapproachable humans. It was simply unstoppable.
It didn’t lift Poppy’s spirits that as she walked among the mice, more than one called, “Hey, Poppy, have you figured out what we’re going to do yet?” Or, “Just tell us what to do, Poppy. We’ll do it!” Or, “Come up with something quick, Poppy! That thing is coming soon!”
When she climbed the steps into Gray House, Sweet Cicely was waiting. “Oh, Poppy, you’ve made your father so happy.”
Poppy blinked. “Have I?”
“Naming your son ‘Lungwort.’ It made Papa feel so good. You were just teasing me about having named him Ragweed, weren’t you?”
“Well, Mama, actually—”
“I am so gullible, I know,” said Sweet Cicely with a giggle. “But if I can make you all laugh, particularly in times like these, I suppose it’s perfectly fine.” She brushed her ears nervously.
“Mama, I don’t think—”
“Poppy!”
Poppy stopped mid-sentence and turned. Lilly was vigorously shaking her head.
“I think it was nice of you to name your youngster after Papa, too,” said Lilly, gazing sternly at her sister. She drew Poppy away from Sweet Cicely.
“But Lilly,” Poppy protested, “you know—”
“Never mind,” said Lilly. “Papa wants to speak to you.”
“Lilly,” Poppy insisted as they went toward the old boot, “Junior’s name is Ragweed.”
“I don’t know who told Papa his name was Lungwort, but it was a clever thing to do.”
“Junior told him,” said Poppy.
“Then he’s a lot smarter than I thought.”
Poppy stopped walking.
“Poppy, Papa is waiting for you.”
“He can wait a moment longer.”
“You sound just like Junior.”
“Lilly, I have no idea what to do about the bulldozer.”
“You really don’t?”
Poppy shook her head. “Instead of worrying about me, what you should be doing is putting your mind to it,” she said as she stepped behind the plaid curtain into the boot.
“Is that you, Poppy?” called Lungwort as she hurried down to the dim toe.
“Yes, Papa.”
“Did you bring young Lungwort?”
“No, Papa.”
“That’s a fine young mouse you have there. Very fine. As for h
is painting himself red—and that smell—that’s only youthful foolishness. My advice is to pay it no mind. The truth is, he reminds me of some of the things I did when I was his age.”
“So he said. Things I never heard about.”
Lungwort coughed. “It’s grandparents, not parents, who are allowed to tell the truth. But never mind all that. Have you worked out a plan about the bulldozer?”
“No, Papa.”
The old mouse leaned toward his daughter and lowered his voice. “Poppy, you don’t seem to understand: it’s urgent.”
“Papa, I can’t think of anything.”
“But that’s why I sent for you!”
“Then I suggest you make a plan for when they do knock the house down. Move to New House. At least everyone would be safe.”
“Never. I won’t accept such an outcome,” cried Lungwort. “Since Gray House must remain, I will remain with it! As for being safe somewhere else, a captain goes down with his ship. If the house goes down, I intend to go down with it!”
“Papa!”
“Poppy! Do you wish to be responsible for my death?”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Poppy, and she turned to go.
“There’s one more thing,” Lungwort called.
“Yes, Papa,” said a tired Poppy.
“Your son told me that you’ve become friends with a porcupine.”
“His name is Ereth. He’s a wonderful friend.”
“That speaks poorly of you. I didn’t raise you up to like porcupines. They are not to be trusted. They are destructive creatures. They eat mice.”
“Nonsense. Porcupines do not eat mice, or any other creature. Ereth eats tree bark and, if he can find it, salt. And, Papa, Ereth wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“It’s you who are mistaken,” insisted Lungwort. “Don’t you dare bring him here.”
“I wish I could. Unfortunately I already told him not to come.”
“I shall hold you to that,” said Lungwort, collapsing into a coughing fit. “Tell Lilly I’m out of pine seeds.”
Poppy, unable to think of anything more to say, left the boot. It’s time to go home, she decided.
CHAPTER 30
An E-mail
To:
[email protected] Subject: Old Lamout Farmhouse
Thanks for your report about the old Lamout place. Sounds like an easy job. I suggest you go right back and knock it down. Today. Just make sure you crush it all into small enough bits so it can be hauled away easily.
Thanks,
Derrida Deconstruction Co.
CHAPTER 31
The Bulldozer
IT’S SO BIG!” said Mephitis, his bushy tail twitching as he stared up at the towering bulldozer. He was standing between Ereth and Junior. With them were Laurel and Pine, who were also gazing up at the machine.
“Horsefly hockey,” muttered Ereth. “Trees are a lot bigger.”
“Yeah, right,” said Junior. “Only trees stay put. This monster moves. I saw it. It was wicked scary.”
Mephitis looked over his shoulder at Gray House. “Is it really going to knock the house down?”
“Everyone says so,” said Pine.
“I wish they would just find a new house,” added Laurel. “It’s so crowded here. No one likes it.”
“Long as Poppy gets back to the snag,” muttered Ereth, “I don’t care.”
“Come on, Uncle Ereth,” said Junior. “What are you so worried about? No way is Mama going to stay here.”
“Lungwort said she would,” said Laurel.
“Lungwort is just a potted pilgarlic,” said Ereth.
Pine started to laugh.
“He does talk a lot,” agreed Laurel.
“Maybe,” said Ereth, “I need to go and give him a piece of my tail.”
“Maybe,” said Junior, still staring up at the bulldozer, “we need to figure out this thing first.”
“I could lay down some stink all over it,” said Mephitis. “Think that might help?”
“It would be better,” said Pine, “if you gave us some stink.”
“Yeah,” agreed Laurel. “That’s what we need.”
“Livid crab licorice,” said Ereth, looking around at the two mice. “Do you really want that smell?”
“Then we’d be just like Junior,” said Pine.
“Doing the stinky red,” Laurel explained.
Junior belched his approval.
“Wow! You are so amazing,” said Laurel. “I hope you teach us that, too.”
“You really want my stink?” the skunk asked the mice.
“Sure do!” the mice chorused.
“Stand over there,” said Mephitis.
“I don’t want any part of this,” muttered Ereth. He stood up on his hind legs, grabbed hold of the bulldozer treads, and pulled himself up. At the same time the two mice ran off a few paces and, with their backs toward Mephitis, called, “Ready!”
“Keep your eyes closed!” the skunk ordered. When they did, he turned, stood up on his forepaws, aimed his backside at the mice, and blew out a cloud of stink that settled over them.
Giggling, the two mice rubbed themselves all over. Then Laurel sniffed Pine even as Pine sniffed Laurel. “That’s wicked wild!” cried Pine.
“Yes,” cried Laurel. “The stinky red!”
“Yo, dude,” cried a laughing Junior. “Now you’re just like me. All you have to do is learn to belch.”
“Later,” said Laurel. “Come on,” she said to Pine. “I know some of my cousins who’ll want to do the stinky red, too!”
The two mice ran off.
Junior climbed up onto the bulldozer. “Hey,” he called to Mephitis, “come on up here. Maybe we can find a way to take this thing apart.”
“I think you should leave it alone,” said Ereth as the skunk crawled up the bulldozer to join them.
“Just saying we should try and fix it so it won’t move,” said Junior.
“I told you,” said the porcupine, “I want them to knock the house down.”
“Uncle Ereth, that’s so dumb!” said Junior. “If they knock the house down, Ma’s whole family will move into Dimwood Forest! You want Aunt Lilly for a neighbor?”
“Barking doggerols,” cried Ereth. “I never thought of that! All right, let’s take this thing apart!” He scampered into the cab.
All three sniffed about, trying to make sense of the pedals and levers.
“Too much metal,” announced Ereth. “There’s nothing to chew.”
“Hey,” said Junior, “what’s all this stuff?” Reaching up, he grasped a lever and tried to pull it. He wasn’t big or strong enough to make it budge.
Ereth continued to search and sniff about. Suddenly he sat up. “Salt,” he cried out. “I smell salt!” Beginning to drool, the porcupine hastily hauled himself up to the driver’s seat. He inhaled deeply, leaned out, and put his nose to a handle. “Chipped caterpillar custard! There’s salt here,” he announced, and started to lick it.
“How did it get there?” Junior asked.
“Human sweat,” Ereth managed to say between slobbers. “It’s the only good thing about them.”
Mephitis, meanwhile, caught sight of the dangling chain that was attached to the engine key. He pulled at it, but it didn’t move.
“Hey! Let me help you,” called Junior. He grabbed hold of the chain and hauled himself up, kicking his rear legs as he went. Once he got to the key, he tried to pull it out. It would not move.
“Try twisting it,” suggested Mephitis.
Junior reached around the key with his forepaws and hugged it, flattening his whole body to it. Then he kicked up again while waving his tail. He kicked so hard that the key levered up and around, flipping Junior, which caused him to loosen his grip and drop.
With a roar, the motor began to churn.
Ereth, startled by the noise, fell hard against the lever he had been licking, shoving it forward. Next moment the bulldozer began to move.
“Hey!” cried Jun
ior from the floor of the cab. “What’s happening?”
Ereth, righting himself, looked around. “Sugared squash rackets! This thing is moving!”
“How did that happen?” said Mephitis, trying to hold on.
Junior righted himself, then climbed up to the driver’s seat and then up to the dashboard. “Uncle Ereth,” he shouted, “you better do something!”
“Why should I do something, fuzz ball? You started the motor, not me!”
“But I don’t know what to do!”
“How did you start it?”
“It must have been the key. I think I turned it.”
“Then turn it back, banana brain. Turn it back!”
“Whoa,” called Mephitis, “this thing moves fast.”
Junior leaped for the key, grabbed it, clung to it with his whole body, and tried to twist it around. It was no use.
“Pancake puddles!” screamed Ereth. “Turn it off!”
“I can’t!” Junior shouted.
Mephitis hauled himself up to the seat, sat up, and looked out. “Hey, guess what?” he said.
“What?”
“We’re heading right for Gray House.”
CHAPTER 32
The Bulldozer Comes
THE BULLDOZER IS COMING! The bulldozer is coming!”
Poppy was chatting with Basil on the back steps when the frightful cry rang out.
The two mice leaped up and ran through the house to the front porch. Frightened mice were racing in all directions, squealing, squeaking, crying, screaming, and yelling. As they tried to reach safety, they pushed and shoved one another. Some leaped headlong off the porch. The mice in the yard raced away as fast as they could go into tall grass.
Poppy looked beyond the milling mice. Sure enough, the gigantic yellow bulldozer was moving slowly but relentlessly toward the house. “Basil,” she shouted over the din, “I need to get Lungwort out!”
“I need to get to my wife and kids,” said Basil, and raced off.
Bucking the flow of the panicky crowd, Poppy plunged back into the house and hurried into the old boot. Lilly and Sweet Cicely were already there, trying to get the old mouse up out of his bed.
“What’s happening?” demanded a coughing Lungwort as he reached for his thimble cap and tried to put it on his head. He managed, though it perched in lopsided fashion. “Where is Poppy?” he demanded.