Crisis in Crittertown (9 page)

He circled the tree. I felt very glad that foxes don't climb trees. As if reading my mind, the fox sneered, “You can't stay up there forever.”

We had food and friends. We could stay an awfully long time! But our open-air home had quickly lost much of its appeal. If the fox could find us here…

Nilla sniffed the air. One of her paws squeezed mine as she whispered, “Do you smell cat?”

The fox must've heard her, or smelled cat, too. In any case, he ran, chasing the yowling cat.

“Cats are very good at climbing trees,” Nilla said.

I nodded.

“We can't stay here!” she exclaimed. Nilla glanced around the tree trunk. “But what if the fox comes back? And…” Her voice sank to a terrified whisper as she confessed, “…I'm afraid of owls!”

“You'd be crazy not to be!” I declared. I wanted to squeak HELP! But who would hear? Probably only foxes, cats, coyotes, and owls!

Then all our hours at the post office reminded me that squeaking isn't the only way to send a message. “It's too bad Chitchat isn't here,” I muttered.

“What do you want with that gossipy squirrel?” Grayson asked hotly.

“Who's gossipy?” a voice called from the treetop.

“Chitchat!” I exclaimed.

The squirrel laughed. “When I didn't find you at the school, I ‘gossiped' with some chickadees and found out about your tree house.”

I asked, “Could you please do us another favor?”

Chitchat glared at Grayson. “What?”

“Buttercup could save us!” I exclaimed.

Chitchat looked alarmed. “You want
me
to talk to a dog?!”

“You wouldn't have to,” I said. “You could just drop him a note—from a safe distance.”

Chitchat smiled. “As long as I don't have to get near his teeth, I'm your critter!”

“You're a wonderful critter!” I declared. “A true hero.”

Then I quickly wrote a simple note to tie around Chitchat's neck as before:

Help! We're in the new tree house at the old fairgrounds.

I signed it

“Your friends Cheddar, Grayson, and Nilla.”

In the fading light, Chitchat vanished quickly among the half-bare branches. We briefly heard the rustle of falling leaves, but this soon mixed with the wind.

Grayson grumbled. “Will that chatty squirrel deliver the message—or will he find some acorns and forget all about us?”

I didn't want Nilla to feel any worse than she already did. So I patted her shoulder and said, “Chitchat will come through—if only to have a good story to tell.”

Nilla chuckled weakly. “I hope you're right!”

Chapter 10  
The Big Idea

With each passing minute the sky grew darker. The wind swirled dead leaves into rattling ghosts that scared off the last remains of our courage. Soon the darkness was as complete as our fear. Grayson squeaked miserably, “I blame myself. You two wouldn't be in this mess without me.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “It's not your fault the post office is closing.”

“You know what I…” Grayson began.

But Nilla hissed, “Shh! Listen!”

Suddenly, we heard it, too. Barking! Buttercup, that wonderfully noisy dog, was barking his way up Church Road, shouting in his thick doggie accent, “I'm coming! Don't worry!” I've never been more grateful for a noise in my life.

The fox must've heard it, too, because the underbrush beneath the tree suddenly rustled to life.

Nilla gasped, “That sly fox
did
slink back after chasing the cat!”

“Well, he's gone now,” I assured her. Then I laughed, adding, “And so is every cat in the neighborhood!”

Grayson and Nilla laughed, too. When Buttercup came panting up, he asked, “What's so funny?”

“We're still alive!” I exclaimed, adding, “Thanks to you!”

We clung to Buttercup's collar as he walked back down Church Road.

When we reached the blinking light at Main Street, Grayson warned, “Be careful!”

I stared at him. When had Grayson become such a worrier? Then I realized it had something to do with becoming a leader.

Buttercup looked up and down the dark, quiet street. As he trotted across, we snuggled deeper into his warm scruff.

When we reached the post office parking lot, Buttercup dropped down on his belly to make it easier for us to climb off. I patted his paw and declared, “You're a true critter hero.”

The dog shrugged modestly. “I'm a Labrador Retriever who mixes up ‘rollover' and ‘beg.' But I'm proud to be your friend.”

“They're back!” Twitchy squeaked as we came through the hole. He sniffed us excitedly, then asked, “What made you come home at this hour?”

Nilla gushed, “The school principal, a fox, a cat, the dog…”

That was too much for Twitchy. He fainted! Curious members of the colony had already gathered to hear the news. So many paws caught Twitchy before he hit the floor.

When he opened his eyes, Twitchy asked woozily, “Did the children tell the principal on you?”

“No! They tried to help,” I said. And that's when the idea started to grow on me: What if the children could help us save the Crittertown Post Office?

Finding paper and pencil wasn't hard. I quickly wrote a note for Chitchat to take to school the next morning.

“How do you know he'll come here?” Grayson asked.

Nilla chuckled. “Because that nosy squirrel will want to know if we got home okay.”

I nodded. “As sure as Buttercup will bark for his breakfast—and Brownback will want to hear more about our adventures.”

As if on cue, our leader appeared and said, “If you aren't too tired, please come to my nest to tell me everything you can remember.”

We were glad to oblige, although we left out the part where Grayson decided to make his own rules.

At first light, a scout told me, “There's a squirrel asking to see you.”

I offered Chitchat a few acorns for his trouble. But all he wanted was to hear about our trip home and our plans for the future.

“Save the post office,” he repeated thoughtfully. “That would be good for the town. Maybe some of us can help.”

“Who's us?” Nilla asked.

“The red squirrels and perhaps the grays.” Then he added, “Raccoons are selfish loafers, but chipmunks are hard workers and they won't go to sleep for another month. Some of the birds might help. I can talk to a few.”

“Would you?” I asked. “That would be so kind!”

When Chitchat scurried off, Grayson asked, “What can birds, squirrels, and chipmunks do to save to the post office?” He kicked one of his paws against the floor. “For that matter, what can children do?”

“I'm not sure…yet,” I replied. “But we'll find out.”

Nilla understood, because she added, “We have to try!”

The three of us slept most of that day, until a scout came to say, “A dog's waiting outside for you.”

“Buttercup!” Nilla exclaimed.

As we scrambled to the hole, I said, “I bet he's come to take us to the children!”

Nilla felt afraid to go back to the tree house. But Grayson, Buttercup, and I convinced her that the fox and other predators wouldn't come near the children and the noisy dog.

In daylight the place looked more shabby than scary. Buttercup peed against the base of the tree.

Bill scolded, “Aw, Buttercup!”

But the dog explained, “That ought to discourage the fox and cat!”

“Stop barking!” Jill said.

Then she and the other children told us what had happened at school that day. “We got your note,” Tanya began.

“So we told Mrs. Olson we want to save the post office,” Hannah went on.

“And she asked, ‘How do you propose to do that?'” Jane added.

“Good question!” I squeaked.

The children seemed to understand, because they all answered at once.

Wyatt said, “I suggested we start a stamp collector's club, to encourage people to buy more stamps.”

“I said maybe we can write letters to politicians,” Ian added. “Maybe even to the President!”

Jill said, “April suggested we get people to sign petitions, so the politicians know that the people of Crittertown want to keep our post office.”

I got so excited, I squeaked, “We should send letters, too!”

Nilla laughed. “Who would care about letters from mice?”

“Other mice!” Grayson exclaimed. “Ever since we visited the library colony, I've been wondering about uniting the local mouse colonies.”

Nilla understood, “You mean like the United States of America?”

Grayson smiled and amended, “The United Colonies of Mice!”

“I doubt the store colony would want to join,” I said. “But I bet we could find others.”

“And not just mice!” Nilla added. “You saw how eager Chitchat was to help. What if…”

I felt too excited to wait for her to finish. “We should get all the critters in Crittertown to work together and create our own post office. We could call it ‘The Critter Post!'”

By the time I finished squeaking, everyone was staring at me. Jill pushed her assignment pad toward me. April tilted her head like a curious puppy.

It was hard to write neatly with so many thoughts racing through my mind. Javier read aloud as I finished the first words. “Cheddar wants to create a post office for animals called ‘The Critter Post.'”

Jane loved the idea. “I wonder if Flopsy would join. I caught him watching TV last night—and I swear he changed the channel when I left the room.”

Jill shrugged. “Maybe he did. Buttercup's been acting different lately, too.”

I winked at Grayson. So the children
had
started noticing the effects of The Change!

Buttercup barked, “It's getting late.”

“What is it?” Jill asked. Then she looked at her watch, and Bill looked at the sunset. “Maybe Buttercup knows it's time to go home.”

Grayson asked Buttercup to stop at the library on our way back to the post office. He said, “We promised to tell Nonfiction the news. This is news!”

Nilla patted my shoulder. “Especially the part about the Critter Post.” She stared at me and said, “I think Cheddar had a very big idea.”

Nonfiction thought so, too. He said, “You see how powerful humans became by working together. Maybe critters can, too! Maybe this is the purpose of The Change!”

When Brownback heard the idea, he called a meeting of the colony. The braver scouts volunteered to spread the word to other critters to recruit members for the Critter Post.

“Let's think big!” Grayson urged. “Not predators, of course, but some of the large plant-eaters might be interested.”

One of the older mice said, “Deer aren't as dumb as people think. I knew a moose who was almost as smart as a mouse.”

“It can't hurt to try,” I said.

To my great delight and surprise, every critter cheered!

By the next morning, most of the children had already written several letters. Mrs. Olson was very impressed. So were the other teachers and even Principal Clark. They decided to take the “Save the Post Office Project” to the junior high and high schools, the senior citizen's club, and the town council.

Word of the project spread faster than the flu! Soon everyone in Crittertown was talking, chirping, squeaking, barking, and even meowing about it.

Strange things started happening. Cats knocked stationery off shelves. They turned on computers and printers. Phone books mysteriously fell open to the local government pages.

Dogs pulled their owners off their usual walking paths toward the post office. The more people went there, the more vital the little office became. Neighbors talked about saving the post office. They also just talked to each other, which made them realize how much they would miss this friendly meeting place.