Showdown in Crittertown (2 page)

Nilla was still puzzling over what rotten eggs had to do with running when Jane started swinging. Then we all forgot about everything, shouting, “This is fun!”

Chapter 2  
Mess-Up at the Meeting

Mrs. Olson liked the idea of the letters and a petition. She sent Andy to Principal Clark's office to ask about involving the other classes.

Tanya said, “Maybe the junior high and high school kids can help, too!”

Mrs. Olson smiled. “Please raise your hand, Tanya. But yes, that's a good idea. After all, lots of those students graduated from here.”

Before the school day was over, teachers and students all over Crittertown were behind the campaign. We heard this from Chitchat, one of the red squirrels who lived near the school.

Grayson thought he was “an awful gossip.” But I didn't mind the squirrel's chatter. Chitchat always knew what was going on, and he'd become a very useful member of the Critter Post. I could always count on him to carry a message. After all, gossip is all about carrying messages!

“They'll talk about the letters and petitions at the meeting tonight,” Chitchat reported. “I heard that straight from the school secretary.”

“We should go to that town council meeting, too!” Grayson squeaked.

I shuddered at the thought of all those humans and cars gathered at the school. We hadn't set one paw inside Crittertown Elementary since Principal Clark called the exterminator and destroyed our dream of living there.

Grayson went on. “It's the only way to find out what we're really up against.”

I said, “You're just curious about human government—and you're always looking for any chance to get out of the basement.”

Grayson grinned. “You know me so well.”

Nilla squeaked, “Learning all we can will help us solve the problem.”

I sighed. Two against one meant I would not be spending a nice, quiet evening under the post office.

Buttercup agreed to be our taxi to and from the meeting. As usual, Brownback wanted us to keep him informed. So I wore out my paw taking notes.

The grown-ups argued over which repairs were really necessary. They argued over whether it would be better to build a new school. And they argued over whose turn it was to talk.

Just when I thought I couldn't stand any more, the grown-ups stopped for “refreshments.”

Nilla nudged me, “That's food, right?”

I nodded. Food might mean… Many busy hands lifted the lids off plastic containers and pulled back shiny plastic wrap. Suddenly the room filled with that most delicious smell: cheese!

Nilla grabbed my tail just in time. I almost rushed out among all those people!

I whispered, “Thanks.”

We watched humans consume cookies and cheese. “Drop crumbs!” I urged silently. But they usually chomped the pieces of cheese in one big bite.

Leave leftovers!
I thought. But I feared they would eat the whole feast right down to the paper doilies.

Slowly, oh so slowly, the meeting started breaking up. People drifted into the lobby. Some said their good-byes. Others continued talk-talk-talking.

Suddenly, the voices grew louder. Grayson's eyes gleamed with excitement. “It's a fight! I wonder if they're going to bite or scratch each other.”

Nilla squeaked, “Let's go see!”

But I had a different idea. While all attention focused on the fight, I ran to the cheese! I grabbed a huge wedge of my favorite—cheddar! It was nearly as big as me. But I had it perfectly balanced on my back. Then I suddenly heard someone scream!

“What's wrong?” I wondered.

Then the screamer added, “A mouse!”

Other voices chimed in, including Principal Clark. “I told that exterminator this place was infested. But he said he saw no sign of vermin.”

Vermin—that word really hurt! But I had no time to feel insulted. With deep regret, I dropped the cheese and raced into the night.

I found Grayson and Nilla under Chitchat's maple tree. We heard the grown-ups talking as they walked to the parking lot. The debate was over.

This was “proof” that the old building was “infested with vermin.” The school would be closed!

My heart sank. It was my fault! If only I'd waited until the people were gone. They might have dropped some cheese. They might have thrown some away. People were always throwing away great treasures. But no, I'd let my stomach do the thinking instead of my brain. And now…

Nilla tried to console me, “It's not your fault. It's the numbers. You heard Principal Clark. The budget and the bills just don't add up.”

Ever since our time at the school, Nilla had been studying math. Of course, she still had a long way to go. Nilla said, “I don't understand why they can't borrow some ones from somewhere or move some decimal points or something. In any case, Cheddar, there's no sense blaming yourself.”

That was sweet of her to say, but I did blame my greedy love of tangy, savory cheese. Maybe I really was vermin!

Thanks to me, the children would be traveling 20 miles to school. Buttercup couldn't possibly carry us all the way to Lakeville Elementary School. My misery deepened as I realized what it all meant. No more story time! No more listening through the windows while Mrs. Olson read out loud.

I moaned, “There must be something else we can do to save the school!” But I couldn't think of anything. I groaned. “I wish I were smarter.” Then I realized, “I don't have to be smarter. I just need to squeak to someone who is!”

“That's easy. Everyone's smarter than you mice—except Buttercup,” teased a voice from above.

Chitchat climbed toward us headfirst from the maple's top branches. The squirrel chattered on, “Do you need me to get that goofy dog, or should we wait until all the cars are gone?”

Grayson surveyed the emptying parking lot. “It won't be long. We might as well wait.” He added, “Besides, I want to know what Cheddar's talking about.”

I said, “Let's ask Buttercup to take us to the library. We can ask our friends for ideas.”

Nilla asked, “Which subjects?”

All the library colony mice were named for different book categories.

Grayson sighed. “Economics, I suppose.”

Economics thought the world revolved around money. He was so boring!

I knew which subject Grayson would rather visit. I felt the same way. But I teased him anyway. “I know you'd rather squeak to Poetry.”

Nilla mused, “Economics is money, like budgets and bills, right?”

“Exactly!” I squeaked. “Maybe Economics or Nonfiction will know how to save the school.” Nonfiction was the library clan's leader.

“It's worth a try,” Grayson agreed. Then he smoothed his fur, and I knew what he was thinking. As long as we were at the library, we'd see Poetry!

Chitchat said, “I can take that message to Buttercup. And I'll let your colony know you'll be getting back to the post office later than expected.”

“That's wicked decent of you,” I said. “Thanks a lot, Chitchat!”

The squirrel hurried away. His bushy tail soon disappeared between the bare twigs. The cold, quiet night surrounded us. Stars twinkled in the big, black sky. The moon looked like a pale sliver of cheese. But, for once, I didn't want to think about cheese.

A few dim lights shone on the school. I shuddered. Would the humans really close it? What if the kids started staying after school in Lakeville? Would they forget about us and the Critter Post?

Buttercup's bark stopped my brooding. “All aboard for the library!” he said, adding, “It's about time I gave Dot a good teasing.”

“She deserves it!” Nilla agreed.

Nilla had never gotten over our brief contact with the library's cat. The library colony was used to Dot's evening friskies, but we had never seen a cat close-up before. Those huge claws, sharp fangs, awful pounces, and the mocking laughter of her hunting chatter still haunted our nightmares.

Buttercup laughed. “I like to see Dot's tail fuzz up when I bark.”

I shuddered. Everything about that cat terrified me, especially her eyes. It was nice to think our dog pal was big enough to tease Dot.

We clung to Buttercup's collar as he trotted from the school to the library. We usually made this journey during the day to be with the children. In the dark everything seemed different.

The streets were so quiet! No cars, no dog walkers—just the soft pad of Buttercup's paws. Then he paused to sniff the air.

“We're not alone,” he barked softly.

“No you aren't, house dog!” howled a coyote emerging from behind a bush.

“Looky here!” another coyote bayed.

Other howls answered those. Grayson, Nilla, and I strained our eyes trying to spot the whole pack. My friends pressed closer to me, and we all tightened our grip on Buttercup's collar.

“Why are you carrying those snacks on your back?” the lead coyote asked.

“They're not snacks,” Buttercup growled. “These are very important mice. They are the three who saved the post office.”

The coyotes laughed cruelly. “What's the post office?” one howled.

“Who cares?” the leader replied as his pack circled Buttercup.

“Can you eat it?” another wondered.

I had never been so near a coyote before. From a distance, they looked like skinny dogs with scraggly fur. As they came closer, the coyotes seemed more like tall foxes than dogs. Or maybe that was just the cold menace in their eyes.

Buttercup opened his big mouth and barked as loud as he could. “Bow wow wow, woof, woof, WOOF!”

Dogs in nearby houses started barking, too. Lights turned on. Human voices asked things like, “What is it, boy?” and “Something out there?”

The coyote leader howled, “Let's go!” and his pack mates howled their answers. They knew a barking dog would bring humans with guns. So off they loped.

Nilla exhaled. “Whew! That was scary!”

Suddenly realizing I'd been holding my breath, I exhaled too.

Grayson bragged, “Buttercup could've taken them! He just didn't want to get in trouble, right, Buttercup?”

The Lab said, “Not smart to take on a whole pack. One coyote, sure, but they rarely travel alone.”

“You did the right thing.” I patted one of his soft ears. “The Critter Post can't afford to lose you. And if you got hurt, you'd have to go to the vet.”

Buttercup hated the animal doctor as much as he despised skunks. He chuckled to himself, recalling, “The last time I was at the vet's I teased a cat. You should've seen how fat her tail fuzzed when I barked!”

Nilla stared into the dark night and said, “Let's not talk about cats, okay?”

“Okay,” Buttercup agreed. Then he stopped suddenly.

Grayson asked, “What is it?”

Buttercup tilted his head, listening. Then we heard it, too. A rustling, rattling sound near some garbage cans in front of the next house.

Nilla grabbed one of my paws and squeezed it hard. I knew what she was thinking. Stray cats like garbage cans.

I opened my mouth to remind her that Buttercup could protect us. But the dog spoke first. “Raccoon,” he said, just as the black-masked critter trotted into view.

The raccoon kept his distance as his bright eyes stared at us with amusement. “Why carry someone on your back?”

Buttercup said, “These mice are my friends.”

The raccoon laughed. “My friend is any garbage can with a loose lid, or an apple tree that's heavy with fruit.” Then he waddled away, chuckling to himself. “Stupid dog! Wouldn't catch me carrying anything but my own supper.”

My body sagged with sadness.

Nilla felt my shoulders droop. “What's wrong?”

I sighed. “Not every critter has Critter Post potential. Some don't get the idea of working together or caring about anything beyond themselves.”

Grayson said, “We don't need a bunch of flea-bitten raccoons or trashy street gangs with fangs.”