Showdown in Crittertown

Dedication

For my father, Marvin Korman,
who shared his love of cheese,
books, music, and art.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2014 by Justine Fontes

Cover illustrations by David Mar

Interior illustrations by Ron Fontes

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means without the written permission of the copyright owner.

All inquiries should be addressed to:

Barron's Educational Series, Inc.

250 Wireless Boulevard

Hauppauge, NY 11788

www.barronseduc.com

Print edition ISBN: 978-1-4380-0360-3
eISBN: 978-1-4380-9245-4

Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1
Not Again!

Chapter 2
Mess-Up at the Meeting

Chapter 3
Putting the Fun in Fundraising

Chapter 4
Many Paws Make Light Work

Chapter 5
A Dark Rumor

Chapter 6
Negative Numbers

Chapter 7
Library Spy

Chapter 8
Opening the Door

Chapter 9
“Mouseletes” in Training

Chapter 10
Bull's-eye

Introduction

Dear Children,

Have you read my first book yet? If you haven't, here's what you need to know: My name is Cheddar. But folks around here call me the Postmouseter, because I am the first leader of the Critter Post—a group of animals dedicated to spreading happy thoughts.

We got the idea from the human post office. My colony lives in the basement of the post office in Crittertown, Maine. We started getting lots of ideas after “The Change,” when animals suddenly understood human speech and writing. Critters can talk to each other, but people still only hear squeaks, barks, and chirps. We get around that problem by writing letters.

When we found out that the Crittertown Post Office might close, my friends Grayson, Nilla, and I went on a mission to find a new home. We met mean mice at the store next door, and some very smart mice at the library. And by writing notes, we made friends with the third graders at Crittertown Elementary School. They helped us save the post office!

If you want to know more, please read
Cheddar's Tales: Crisis in Crittertown.
Otherwise, just turn the page and think…

…happy thoughts!

Cheddar Plainmouse

The Postmouseter

P.S. If you have questions or just like to write letters, you can reach me at:

Cheddar Plainmouse
1138 Main Street
Crittertown, ME 04355

Chapter 1  
Not Again!

Most mice hate humans. But the way I see it, the critters who invented cheese can't be all bad.

Besides, these days some of my best friends are humans—the small humans of Mrs. Olson's third grade class at Crittertown Elementary School. These kids helped save our home! So we started “hanging out” together every weekday after school. Human expressions are so strange. Hanging out has nothing to do with hangers or clotheslines. But it is fun!

I like hanging out at the post office with my mouse friends Grayson and Nilla. You never know what you're going to find in the trash cans, in the recycling bins, and on the snack table. Once we found half a hamburger!

In late November the treats really piled up. We sampled homemade fudge, Christmas cookies, nuts, and a “cheese log.” That's not as weird as it sounds. Forget trees; this was soft cheese pressed into the shape of a log. And like every other kind of cheese, it's so delicious!

Anyway, one night after closing time, we went upstairs for some treasure hunting. But we found something that made our fur stand on end.

Grayson suddenly squeaked, “Closing the school!”

Nilla dropped the muffin wrapper she'd been nibbling. “What?”

I raced up the Priority Mail display to join Grayson at the community bulletin board. As the grandson of our colony's leader, Grayson had an interest in politics. He often read the notices about town council meetings. Usually they just talked about the cost of snowplows and other things that didn't matter to us. But this…

I read the words twice and then moaned. “They can't do it!”

Nilla reads more slowly than I do. So she asked, “Who can't do what?”

Grayson answered, “The council is going to discuss closing Crittertown Elementary School!”

Nilla squeaked with joy. “No more homework, no more math, and we could play with the children all day—not just in the afternoons! Why do you look so glum?”

Grayson shook his head. “The kids would still have to go to school. They just wouldn't go right here in town.”

I read to the end of the notice. “The plan is to merge with Lakeville Elementary, which is a larger, newer school about 20 miles from here.”

Nilla looked as sad as the time we opened the clerk's cookie tin and found a sewing kit instead of shortbread. I hated to explain the worst part. “Our friends would have to take a bus to school. They'd be gone longer each day. And we might lose the playground.”

Nilla wailed, “I love the playground!”

I shrugged. “Well it's one of the things that needs costly repairs.”

We felt almost too low to check the snack table. But we knew the rest of the colony was counting on us. So we each grabbed a cookie to slide under the worn rubber seal on the post office's back door.

As soon as we entered the basement, our cookie-loving comrades swarmed.

Someone squeaked, “Did you get any of the ones with sprinkles?”

“I like icing!”

“Any brownies?”

Only our nervous friend, Twitchy, sensed something was wrong. Of course, Twitchy always thinks something is wrong. Sadly, sometimes he's right!

Twitchy asked questions in a frightened rush. “What is it? Have the postal bosses changed their minds? Will they be closing the office after all?”

Grayson shook his head. “The elementary school.”

Twitchy sighed with relief. “That's okay. As long as we have a home.”

Twitchy was a real stay-in-the-nest type of mouse. He hadn't gotten to know the children yet. He couldn't understand why this news made us so gloomy.

Our leader, Brownback, understood. He said, “It's not good for the town—not to mention your young friends.” Then he sighed. “But what can we do about it?”

I thought about writing a letter to the children. But I felt too depressed. I tried cheering myself up by thinking of different cheeses in alphabetical order, from American to blue all the way to Stilton. (If you know any cheeses that start with T, U, V, W, X, Y, or Z, please let me know!)

All that did was make me hungry. So instead of cheese, I tried thinking of ways to save the school. I figured that since letters helped save Crittertown's post office, maybe they could save the school, too.

I started a list of humans to whom we might write. I hoped the children could add to it the next day. We always met at April's house, because she lived next door to the school. Her garage was empty all day while her father was at work. April's mom worked at home, typing on a computer and talking on the phone. So we didn't have to fear someone shrieking “Mouse!” and calling an exterminator.

That afternoon, Buttercup came to pick us up as usual. His human friends, Jill and Bill, always came to April's house. And Buttercup—the large, yellow Lab—never missed a chance to spend time with his favorite people. Buttercup lived at the Bed & Breakfast. But he had the run of the town, as long as he came home in time for supper. With his love of food, that was never a problem.

As soon as the big dog arrived at our hole, Grayson, Nilla, and I rushed out to greet him. Buttercup lowered himself to the scraggly grass so we could climb onto his back.

For a dog who “barely knows rollover from beg,” Buttercup was quite alert. As we settled onto the soft scruff under his collar, he sensed something was wrong.

“What're you worrying about?” he barked. “You can tell me. Did someone get stuck in a trap? Did those mean mice from the store try to invade the post office? Did Mike's wife put him on another diet?”

“Nothing like that,” Grayson said.

“Then what is it?” Buttercup stood up and started walking.

Nilla exclaimed, “The school! The grownups are planning to close Crittertown Elementary School!”

Buttercup nodded. “Now it all makes sense!”

“What makes sense?” I asked.

Buttercup stopped to scratch his ear. We struggled to cling to the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I always scratch when I'm thinking.”

Buttercup resumed walking and talking. “I was trying to recall what I'd heard Jill and Bill say this morning when they brought my food.”

Grayson muttered, “Probably couldn't hear over his own gulping.”

Buttercup laughed. “No, I heard them. I just didn't know what it meant. They said something about having to take a bus instead of walking to school if ‘the budget crisis' didn't get resolved. What's a budget crisis?”

I sighed. “Humans arguing about money.” The library mouse named Economics knew all about this sort of thing. I only knew that humans often worried about money, and this definitely interfered with the flow of happy thoughts.

When we reached the garage, the children were talking about the same thing. There wasn't enough money to fix Crittertown Elementary School, so the Crittertown kids would have to attend Lakeville. Jill said, “Taking a bus means leaving earlier and coming home later, and we might be not able to meet here as often!”

Ian said, “I've heard Lakeville has a good music room. But it won't be the same.”

Tanya jumped up. “Then let's not let it happen!”

“What can we do?” her friend Hannah asked.

I held up my list. Jane read it out loud. “Humans we could write letters to about saving Crittertown Elementary School: politicians, parents, media.”

Wyatt said, “Great idea! Our letters helped save the post office.”

“We can write petitions, too,” April said in her sweet whisper.

When everyone asked, “What?” Javier repeated, “Petitions.”

“Yes!” Tanya exclaimed. “Let's start tomorrow!”

Andy said, “Maybe other classes can help, too. We're not the only ones who want to save our school.”

“Good thinking!” Wyatt agreed.

So we wrote a letter and a petition. Until Bill said, “This is too much like schoolwork. Last one to the playground is a rotten egg!” Then he took off running.

Jane scooped up Grayson, Nilla, and me into her hat and ran to the schoolyard. We bounced around wildly until she reached the swings.