Lexi's Tale (5 page)

“This man is good,” I reassured my uncle. “My nose tells me that I can trust him. And my head tells me that I should help him.” If Uncle Ninety-nine didn't disapprove of my friendship with PeeWee, I would have once again explained how the stranger had rescued my friend. And how PeeWee and I now wanted to help him in return. But I knew this wouldn't be a convincing argument to my uncle. My uncle understood everything about his stomach, but nothing about helping others. I decided to try and speak his own language.

“Uncle,” I said politely, “you're right. Squirrels can exist without humans. But think how they enrich our lives. We could live forever
on the seed pods and acorns we find in the park. But isn't it a hundred times better that humans come here daily and leave the most delicious foods for us? Remember:
A variety among nuts helps avoid life's ruts
. This park doesn't produce Brazil nuts, or almonds, or cashews, or pistachio nuts. Without humans you'd never have eaten any hazelnuts or pecans—and what about macadamia nuts?”

“Ah, macadamia nuts.” Uncle Ninety-nine closed his eyes and began to chew the air. I realized I'd said the one word that could distract him from scolding me. “If only I could have a macadamia nut,” Uncle Ninety-nine said. “They are the most delicious of all the nuts in the world.”

“But Uncle,” I pointed out, “they grow thousands of miles away from here. Were it
not for the occasional human who brings them to the park, you'd never have tasted one.”

“Macadamia. Macadamia,” Uncle Ninety-nine repeated again and again. “I must go see if I can find one right now,” he said to me. “I love macadamia nuts more than anything in the world.”

Suddenly my uncle could think of nothing else. He turned and leaped from the tree branch where he'd been sitting. He fled from tree to tree toward the south, where there are often people who bring nuts to the park. I doubted that he'd find any macadamia nuts today. They are a rare treat, and I've only eaten one of them in my entire life.

With Uncle Ninety-nine gone, I looked around and saw with satisfaction that the hungry stranger was walking in my direction.
It would save me the effort of trying to drag the wallet to him. I sat patiently on my branch and waited until he passed directly under me. I was ready. At that moment I gave the wallet a little shove and it fell from the tree and landed at his feet. The stranger looked up at me and gave a wide smile.

But at the same moment another human was running by. He saw the wallet fall from the tree too. Now he reached out and tried to grab the wallet away from PeeWee's rescuer.

It was quite a scene: A tall bald man in running clothes was yelling and chasing the bearded stranger in the funny hat. But unlike squirrels who spend hours running and chasing one another in play, this was not a game. These men were serious. Both of them wanted the wallet and all I had wanted to do was help.

The bald man was also a bold man. He quickly caught up with the bearded stranger and grabbed him by the shoulder. I could see it all from my spot in the tree.

PeeWee's rescuer tried to push the bald man away, but he was not strong enough. He called out in his strange language and the bald man yelled back at him in return.

“Let go of that wallet!” he shouted. “I saw it before you.”

I was happy that the bearded stranger would not let go.

Some people who were walking nearby gathered to see what was going on. I had to climb higher on the tree as more and more people crowded around the two men and blocked my view of the commotion. There were joggers and bikers, walkers and skaters, mothers and nannies, children and dogs. There was yelling and shouting, crying and barking, and above it all I could hear the sound of the two men who were fighting over the old leather wallet.

It was amazing that an object that I had found in a drift of snow during a day late in the
winter was causing such a fuss now. I didn't know what to do, but seeing two of my brothers running through a tree across from me, I yelled out to them. “Twenty-two, Twenty-three, call all the squirrels you can.” I didn't have a plan yet, but I knew that whatever it would be, I couldn't do it alone.

Both Twenty-two and Twenty-three are younger than I am, so they didn't question my command. Quickly they raced off, summoning other squirrels in the area. At any given time there are dozens of squirrels in every corner of the park, so it didn't take more than a couple of minutes for thirty or forty squirrels to join me as I raced toward the fighting men.

At the same time, without anyone calling them, the park's pigeons came fluttering out
of the air. They know that where there are people, there's food.

The dogs began barking louder than ever and pulling hard on their leashes as we approached. The parents and nannies nervously grabbed hold of the toddlers who were not safely inside baby carriages. Some human must have called the police, because from the distance I could hear a siren. The sound got louder and louder, and then a police car arrived. I recognized it at once because of a dent on its rear fender. It was one of two cars that regularly patrol our section of the park. It drove right onto the grass with its lights flashing and stopped just a few feet away from all the activity. Now even more people came running to the spot. A police car meant excitement for them.

“Okay. Stand back, everyone, stand back,” a loud voice called out as the door to the police car opened. “We don't want anyone to get hurt here.”

The joggers and the bikers, the parents and the nannies all followed directions and moved back. But we squirrels came right on closer.

“What are all these critters doing here?” one policeman shouted out to another who was getting out of the car. “It's like a squirrel invasion.”

“I've never seen so many. It's more than I ever imagined were in the entire park.”

That shows that the policeman didn't have a good imagination or even good eyesight. What he saw running around him was only a small fraction of my brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, and uncles.

The first policeman ignored us and pushed his way toward the two men who had stopped fighting and were just standing side by side looking at the police and squirrels. I noticed that the second policeman was trying to count how many of us squirrels were circling the crowd. Since we kept running around, it was not an easy task.

“What's this all about?” the first policeman asked the men.

“He stole that wallet,” the bald man said.

“He stole your wallet?” the policeman asked. He took the wallet from the bearded stranger who, even if he didn't understand English, understood who the policeman was. The officer removed a piece of paper from inside. “Which one of you is Michael Ryan?” he asked the two men.

PeeWee's rescuer of course could not understand what was being said.

“Speak up,” the policeman said. “What's your name?”

“I'm Thomas Boomsma,” said the bald man. “It's not my wallet, but it's not his either. I saw him grab it and run, so I gave chase. I wanted to make a citizen's arrest.”

“Okay, Mr. Boomsma. Who did he grab the wallet from? Can you describe the person?”

“Well, no. It wasn't exactly like that. The
wallet came flying out of a tree. I didn't get to see the person.”

“Was there someone up in the tree?” asked the policeman.

“I guess so,” said Thomas Boomsma, shrugging his shoulders. “How else could this wallet fall down from up there?”

“Michael Ryan?” the policeman called out to the people standing around. “Are you here?”

Of course he wasn't there.

“Maybe he's still up in the tree,” said Mr. Boomsma.

“Which tree was it?” asked the policeman.

The bald man looked around him. “I can't remember,” he said. “A tree is a tree. They all look alike.” The onlookers laughed.

“What about a Christmas tree?” someone called out.

Meanwhile I ran right up to the big black shoes of the policeman and started chattering to him. My uncle Ninety-nine would have been furious if he'd seen me at that moment.

“No one was up in the tree but me,” I told the policeman. “I found this wallet. It wasn't stolen from anyone.” Of course, just as the hungry stranger couldn't understand English, the policeman couldn't understand anything I said to him.

“All right. All right,” the policeman said, totally ignoring me. “We're going to clear this up. Get in the car and we'll take down a statement at the police station.”

“Listen, I've got an appointment,” the bald man said, looking at his watch.

“It won't take long,” the policeman promised.

I hoped it would take forever. It would serve that bald man right. But what about the innocent
stranger? What was going to happen to him?

I had an idea. “Surround the car!” I shouted to the squirrels. Perhaps we could prevent the police from leaving the park.

At once thirty-seven squirrels formed a circle around the police car. I watched as the four men got inside. Thomas Boomsma and the two policemen didn't pay any attention to us, but the bearded stranger looked around in awe. It was hard to tell because of his mustache and beard, but I thought I saw his lips turn up in a smile.

The driver of the police car started the motor. He began moving slowly.

“Jump on the hood of the car,” I shouted to my relatives.

Instantly the hood and roof of the car were
covered with squirrels. I jumped on the front window and moved my tail back and forth, hoping to block the driver's view. But suddenly water squirted in my face and two sharp sticks began moving back and forth across the window, causing me to lose my balance. The siren blared and the car began picking up speed. One by one each of us jumped or were thrown off the car. We may have slowed it down a few seconds, but no more than that. The police car drove out of sight.

At that moment I understood the wisdom of what my mother had tried to teach me when she said,
Stick out your tail and you're bound to fail
. Uncle Ninety-nine had been right too. I had meant to do good, but all I had done was send PeeWee's rescuer off to jail.

PeeWee would never forgive me.

PeeWee was waiting in his hole. His furry head was peeking out as he watched for me. Reluctantly I broke the news to him.

“What?” he squeaked. “The man was taken away in a police car?”

“Look at it this way,” I said, trying to calm my friend, “now he won't be homeless. The police will give him a good meal and a place to sleep.”

“They'll put him in a cage,” said PeeWee.

“You sound like my old uncle Ninety-nine. A cage can't be as bad as all that.”

“You say that because you've never lived in one,” PeeWee responded. “You've seen the animals in the zoo. They're fed. They're protected. But they don't have any freedom. They are trapped in one space for all their lives. Here in the park I've been free. I wouldn't wish a cage on anyone.”