Authors: Mavis Jukes
Well, he didn’t exactly drink the nectar. He pinched it out of the bottom of each white flower, just one small, clear drop. Barely a taste. But it tasted great, and he had the funny feeling that from now on, for the rest of his life, whenever he tasted honeysuckle, it would remind him of Rainbow Ridge. And when he was reminded of Rainbow Ridge, he would always miss it.
Always.
“Tomorrow’s Stuffed Animal Day,” Carson told his dad.
“Are you bringing Moose?”
“No, Dad.”
“Why not? It’s okay if he’s worn out. It’s fine to
bring him, I think. There’s a wonderful tradition of kids and worn-out stuffed animals. Remember
The Velveteen Rabbit
?”
“Yeah.”
“How the old rabbit ended up becoming real and hopping off with the other real rabbits?”
“That’s the saddest story in the world, Dad.”
“Right.”
Little streams of water were running over the stone path. The trees were dripping water onto the ground. Wind was blowing rain up onto the porch.
“I guess we better go in,” said Carson’s dad. He picked up Genevieve’s leash. “Grab a cushion.”
Carson stood for a minute outside, watching the wind swirl in the highest branches. Before long, he and Moose would both be nine.
That night, Carson had a dream:
He was riding on Moose’s back, and they were galloping in the rain. Carson’s Valley Oak hoodie hood had blown back, and rain was splashing on Carson’s face and Carson loved it!
Moose was young and strong. He had grown a fresh
dewlap and a new rack of antlers, and they were covered with brown velvet. He had two brand-new ears, and Carson leaned forward and whispered into one of them, “Let’s go!”
Suddenly Moose reared up
.
He could fly!
They flew high up into the air, over buildings and houses. Down below, Carson could see Nancy, laughing and swimming in a frothy turquoise swimming pool with Ethel
.
She waved to him
.
“Come down and swim with us!”
Carson woke up. It was morning.
Moose was staring straight at him from across the pillow.
Carson’s Valley Oak uniform was folded neatly on top of his dresser, with the sweatshirt on top. His dad was such a great dad! He had washed and dried the hoodie yet one more time, and soon it would be too small, but oh well.
Carson called to his dad, “I’ve decided to take Moose to Stuffed Animal Day.”
Carson got dressed and walked into the kitchen.
“Good decision. I was afraid he’d try to follow you if you didn’t!”
“But I’m going to leave him in my backpack.”
“Fine.”
Carson ate oatmeal with brown sugar, raisins, and a few blueberries on top, had a small glass of orange juice, and took one kid-size vitamin.
“Thanks for washing all my stuff, Dad.”
“No problem. That hoodie’s shrinking so fast, and you’re getting bigger so fast,” his dad said. “I may stop by the office and buy a bigger hoodie from Mrs. Sweetow.”
“Okay, but she’s been in a pretty bad mood lately, I’m warning you.”
There wasn’t much in Carson’s pack, so there was plenty of room for Moose. He carefully lifted him in.
You’re ridiculous
, Carson told himself. But he left the zipper unzipped a little so Moose could breathe properly and look out.
His hoodie would have crowded Moose if he had crammed it into the backpack, and he didn’t feel like wearing it, so he casually threw it over one shoulder
and headed down the porch steps, holding his canvas lunch bag while his dad locked the door.
He called to Carson, “Should we put in some lawn clippings for Moose to munch for lunch?” He chuckled softly to himself.
“Negative on that, Dad.”
The schoolyard was full of kids strolling around with their stuffed animals, gathered in groups with their stuffed animals, giving their stuffed animals turns on the slide. Cody was tossing his stuffed killer whale through the basketball hoop.
Carson set his sweatshirt on top of the heap of sweatshirts and packs that were plopped on the ground near his classroom door. He thought better of taking off his pack. Wes was standing nearby, talking to Oswaldo and Patrick. “Did you bring stuffed animals?” Wes asked them.
They both said, “Nah.”
Carson kept his mouth shut.
Wes said, “Me either. I’m not taking any chances on losing Captain Piano.” He frowned in Cody’s direction.
Carson heard someone calling his name in a tiny little high voice. “Howdy there, Carson!”
Carson looked over at Nancy, and she was holding one of Ethel’s worn-out black leather paws and waving it at him.
“Did you bring somebody to hang out with me today?” Ethel squeaked.
Carson hid a smile. He ran off and played soccer awhile with Oswaldo, Wes, and Patrick. “How come you got your pack on?” Wes called to Carson.
Before Carson could think up a good excuse, the bell rang and everyone went to their classrooms.
The kids were allowed to perch their animals on their desktops or sit on their chairs with them.
The classroom looked like a zoo.
Carson left Moose in his backpack, which he hung on the hook in Mr. Lipman’s class. He thought about bringing his pack to Ms. Parker’s room for Math Switcheroo, especially because Wes had been
wandering around the room aimlessly, stopping occasionally to look into the June Box.
Don’t be ridiculous
, Carson chided himself.
He walked across with a small herd of Mr. Lipman’s students: Oswaldo, Luciana, Nancy, Matthew, Sydney, and Patrick.
“Welcome, welcome!” Ms. Parker called to them. “And welcome to all your animal pals as well. I hope they won’t be too noisy in math. No animal today, Carson?”
“Nope.”
“Be good at Mr. Lipman’s!” she warned her departing students as they carried their stuffed animals out the door toward Mr. Lipman’s classroom.
“And, Parks?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t forget to give Mr. Lipman the note so he knows you’re supposed to be excused early for your Tahoe trip.”
“I won’t.”
“Poor kid!” she said behind her hand. “Has to go to Tahoe for the weekend.”
“Please accept my sincere sympathy,” she called to
Parks. “That’s a rough job, up there snowboarding in fresh powder!”
Parks smiled a little.
“Got your homework packet, Parks? Oh, that’s right. You’ve been saving your No-Homework Pass—good thinking. Got your trumpet? Good thing you cleaned out your pack. Is that where you found that pack rat? Oh, sorry, Parks! That’s not a pack rat parked on your hat. It’s a kangaroo rat roosting on your hat. Can you carry all that okay?”
Ms. Parker giggled at her own jokes as Parks walked out. His arms were full: hoodie, pack, and trumpet case. He was wearing a baseball cap with a kangaroo rat attached to the top—hanging on for dear life.
Ms. Parker addressed the line of stuffed animals on the floor: “I expect you to sit quietly. No purring, peeping, pecking, or trumpeting. That means you,” she said to Luciana’s elephant.
Ms. Parker picked up a stack of ads on newsprint that she’d gotten from the grocery store. “Today we’re going to create some song-and-dance routines related to word problems,” she announced. “Everybody okay
with that? Let’s make this fun. The ads are organized by sections. Check ’em out.”
“Want to be my partner?” asked Nancy. “You can sing and I can dance.”
“I think I am getting laryngitis,” Carson whispered.
“But you didn’t have laryngitis during PE!” Nancy said.
“It came on suddenly,” said Carson.
“Maybe you yelled too loud when you were Hula-Hooping.”
“I did not!” shouted Carson.
“See? There’s nothing wrong with your voice, you faker! Hey! There are some great deals in here!” Her eyes lit up. “Let’s plan a party for Mr. Lipman’s fortieth!”
Nancy got right to business making up a menu and a shopping list. She tallied it up. “Bad news. We’re already at $1,286.34. Hmm.” She looked at Carson. “Think maybe we should switch from grilled lobster drizzled with melted organic butter to hot dogs with chili on top?”
“Okay, sure.”
“Time’s up,” Ms. Parker sang out. “Who’s ready? Nancy? Carson?”
“Not ready,” said Nancy. “Plus, we’re completely over budget.”
“What budget?”
“A surprise-party budget. Mr. Lipman’s fortieth is coming up.”
“Mr. Lipman is already turning forty?”
“He’s thirty-eight. We’re getting him used to the idea,” said Nancy.
“This math assignment was supposed to involve music and dance,” said Ms. Parker. “Not a party plan.”
“Well, we haven’t gotten to the song-and-dance routine yet. That’s going to be Carson’s department. Can he borrow a Hula-Hoop? Does Hula-Hooping count as dancing?”
“Yes. Your group’s up first on Monday.”
Yikes!
Carson watched the other groups perform. They all were bad, but the country song about fried green tomatoes and fresh corn on the cob was the worst one of all.
He was happy to get out of there.
Carson walked with the kids back to Mr. Lipman’s room, passing Ms. Parker’s Switcheroo students on their way back to their class. He was tired. Hungry,
too. Especially after all that talk about sizzling lobster tails.
He wandered into his classroom and sat down.
Mr. Lipman was standing at the front of the classroom, saying nothing. The kids got quieter and quieter when they saw how grumpy he looked.
“It has just this minute been brought to my attention that someone has taken Parks’s yo-yo from the June Box. Does anybody know anything about this?”
No one spoke.
Carson knew something about it. He knew quite a bit about it, actually. For starters, it wasn’t actually Parks’s yo-yo. He also knew it was Chloe’s brother Joey’s yo-yo, and that it was Zoe’s fault Parks got it taken away. But a green yo-yo was the last thing he was concerned about at the moment. He had glanced at his pack.
What was it doing on the floor?
Instead of hanging from the hook where he left it.
“Because,” continued Mr. Lipman, “I could not be more clear on this situation. Whoever has removed Parks’s yo-yo from the box needs to bring it forward.”
He looked from student to student.
Carson stared at his pack.
Maybe someone from Math Switcheroo knocked my pack off the hook accidentally
, he thought.
And left it sitting on the floor.
But this didn’t seem like a very good time to ask Mr. Lipman if he could hang it back up. Even though Moose was basically lying facedown, with his nose on the hard, cold, dirty tiles. Technically, Moose just was cloth, thread, and stuffing, but still.
Carson couldn’t stand it!
He raised his hand. “Mr. Lipman? Is it okay if I hang my pack back up?”
Mr. Lipman said, “If anyone has any information they want to share with me about the missing yo-yo, please feel free to meet with me individually or even write a note.”
“Does it have to be in proper letter format?” asked Zach.
“No. And yes, Carson. You may hang up your pack.”
Carson hurried over to his pack and picked it up by the handle.
But he saw in a heartbeat that …
Something was wrong!
His pack was empty, and the zipper was …
Unzipped!
The zipper was unzipped and Moose …
Was gone!
Panicked, he turned to Mr. Lipman. “Somebody took something out of my pack.”
“What was taken?”
“A stuffed animal.”
“Are you sure? What does it look like?”
Carson had to take a moment to get himself together. No need to go into the missing antlers, wattles, cropped tail, and bald ears. “It’s … um. It’s a small brown mammal.”
“Anybody seen a small brown stuffed mammal?”
“Aaaahhhh-chooooooooooooo!” roared Wes.
Carson shot a look over at him. Wes’s face was in his desk, and the desk lid was balanced on top of his head.
“Weston? That is ab-so-lute-ly
un
acceptable,” said Mr. Lipman.
Wes looked up from over the enormous wad of tissues he was holding against his face. “I’m using
tissues but also corralling any and all germ escapees in the interior desk area.”
“
Not
a good strategy,” said Mr. Lipman.
“Well, I’m going to the doctor after school to see what we can do about the Dandy dander dilemma.”
“Fine.”
Mr. Lipman turned to Carson. “Start by checking the lost and found. Look carefully and properly.”
Carson hurried to the multipurpose room. He looked carefully and properly through the large bin. Moose wouldn’t be in the bin!
Still, he looked all the way down, down, down to the bottom, through acorn sweatshirts, squirrel beanies, acorn scarves.
When he got back, kids were coloring pictures of endangered-species habitats. The class was working so quietly you could hear a crayon drop on the rug. And Wes had dropped several crayons on the rug and was under the desks, rounding them up.
Mr. Lipman asked, “No luck?”
“Nope.”
Carson sat down.
“It will show up.”
Nancy whispered, “Pssst! I have an idea. Why not leave your pack on the hook with a sign on it: return
BROWN STUFFED MAMMAL HERE. NO QUESTIONS ASKED.
”
“Okay.”
She helped Carson make the sign with markers.
Chloe and Zoe followed suit. They made a sign that said
RETURN GREEN YO-YO HERE. NO QUESTIONS ASKED
.
They attached the sign to the June Box with some tape they found in a drawer near the sink.
“Girls? If that yo-yo reappears, I’m going to have a few questions, that’s for sure.”
The bell rang.
Wes headed for the door, dragging his pack. He looked tired. His eyes were red. “Feel better, Wes!”
“Thanks.”
“Hope those allergies clear up!”
“Thanks.”
“Ask your grandmother if you can bring a backup box of tissues.”
“Okay.”
Carson had a brief and, yes, ridiculous mission to accomplish. No one was looking, so he quickly ducked behind the rolling book cart.