Poppy's Return Page 3

  Poppy smiled and went into the dim, foul-smelling log. Ereth was there, sucking on his lump of salt, now no bigger than an acorn. When she appeared, he barely looked up. All he said was “Have you any idea how good salt is?”

  “Ereth, I’ll be going away for a while.”

  Ereth looked up. “Where?”

  “I’m afraid my father isn’t well. That’s why Lilly came. I need to go see him.”

  “What the bat bilge for?”

  “Really, Ereth, I would think it’s obvious. Lungwort is my father. He’s elderly. If he’s not well, I need to see him. Wouldn’t you go see your father if he were ill?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I’m different.”

  “You once told me you didn’t like your father,” said Ereth. “Remember that time we planted a tree in honor of Ragweed—the first Ragweed? It was right near your father’s house. We didn’t even see him.”

  “Because my father didn’t like Ragweed.”

  “Or porcupines.”

  “Ereth, my father may be difficult, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  “Ereth, I believe children owe something to parents. My parents raised me. Cared for me. Protected me. Fed me. Looked after me.”

  “Poppy,” said Ereth, “Junior isn’t here. You can turn down the vomit volume. You told me Lungwort made life miserable for you. Restricted you. Always wanted to keep you in your place.”

  “That was then, and . . .”

  “Has anything changed?”

  Poppy shrugged. “I hope so.”

  “Since when do parents get free passes?”

  “Ereth, I’m going.”

  “When?”

  “This morning. Right now.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, with Lilly and—”

  “And?”

  “Junior.”

  “Junior! Grumpy goat galoshes. What a picnic. Anyone else?”

  “Mephitis.”

  “The skunk?” cried Ereth.

  Poppy nodded.

  “Let me get this right: you are going to go home with your sister who talks like a grammar book, your son who is rude, and a skunk you don’t like, to your father you can’t stand. Have I got it all?”

  “Yes,” said Poppy.

  “Fried Frisbee freckles!” cried Ereth. “This is as brainless as half-baked bagpipes. What are you punishing yourself for?”

  Poppy closed her eyes.

  “Besides,” the porcupine demanded, “who is going to protect you?”

  “Oh goodness, Ereth, that’s silly.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “No, Ereth, you will not,” Poppy said quickly. “First of all, I can protect myself. Second, this is a private family matter. I’m not interested in leading a parade. Besides, you need to stay here and help Rye. Now good-bye. I’ll be back soon.” With that, Poppy reached up on her hind legs, gave Ereth a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, then hurried away.

  Ereth stared cross-eyed at his nose.

  Poppy headed back toward the snag and was halfway there when she saw Mephitis and Junior. They were so alike in looks, yet so different in size, that Poppy almost laughed.

  Poppy considered the skunk. She really did not know anything about him. She didn’t even know where he lived, or who his parents were, or how Junior and he had become friends— or why, for that matter. She had tried to talk to the skunk, but Mephitis was not given to small talk. Since he couldn’t fit into the snag, more often than not Junior spent his time at the skunk’s house. Once again Poppy regretted never having gone over to introduce herself to Mephitis’s parents.

  As she drew closer to the snag, she saw that Rye and the children had gathered to say good-bye. Lilly was waiting, too, but as Poppy arrived she saw that her sister’s whiskers were stiff and her tail twitching.

  “Poppy, can I speak to you for a moment—privately?” Lilly asked.

  The two sisters went off a few steps. “Poppy,” said Lilly, her lips pursed and her paws folded tightly, “is that . . . skunk coming along?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Poppy could see that Mephitis was watching them. She said, “He and Junior are best friends.”

  “Frankly,” Lilly said, “I don’t think it wise. He seems rather . . . surly.”

  “He’ll be fine,” said Poppy, wishing she believed it. She broke away from Lilly and went up to the skunk. “Mephitis, I understand you want to go with us?”

  Mephitis pointed his sharp nose to the ground. When he and Poppy met, which was not often, he usually dropped his tail and looked anywhere but at her. It made Poppy feel uncomfortable—as if the skunk were hiding something.

  “I guess,” he murmured, as much to the ground as to her.

  “I’m very glad you’re coming,” Poppy forced herself to say. “And . . . is it all right with your parents?”

  “Come on, Mama,” called Junior. “Don’t be so freaking nosey.” He turned to his friend and belched. The skunk grinned, and the two slapped paws over Poppy’s head.

  Poppy winced and started to say something more, but decided she didn’t want to begin the trip in an even worse mood. Instead, she looked around. She caught Rye’s gaze. He winked. It made Poppy smile.

  “I guess it’s time to go,” she said in her best chirpy squeak.

  Rye lined the children up in a row. Poppy went down the line, hugging and nuzzling each one, giving final bits of advice:

  “Pipsissewa, please help your father. Walnut, a little less squabbling with your sisters. Snowberry, don’t forget to wash your face. Verbena, do clean up after yourself. . . .”

  Last in line was Rye. “Please be safe,” he whispered into Poppy’s ear as he gave her a hug. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be perfectly fine. Send my regards to your family, especially your father.”

  Poppy turned to whisper into Rye’s right ear, the one that bore a little notch from a childhood accident, which somehow made it Poppy’s favorite. “I’ll try to make this as fast as I possibly can,” she promised.

  “Just remember,” he said with a final hug, “your family will be waiting right here for you.”

  “I’ll miss you,” Poppy whispered.

  “And I you.”

  Poppy turned about and looked at Lilly and Junior, as well as Mephitis. “Well then,” she said, more brightly than she felt, “here we go.”

  Off she started with Lilly at her side and Junior and Mephitis trailing behind.

  “Ga-ba, ga-ba, good-bye!” cried all the other children as well as Rye. “Good-bye!”

  They watched and called until the traveling party had disappeared into the woods. Rye was the last to turn away. Just as he did, he saw Ereth come rushing down the path from his log.

  “Zappy zit jelly!” cried the porcupine. “Has Poppy already gone?”

  “They just left.”

  “Which way?”

  “Down that path.”

  “Fine. I’m going with them,” cried Ereth. “Don’t touch my salt!” With that, he trundled after the travelers.

  “Ereth!” Rye called. “Come back!” But Ereth was out of sight.

  CHAPTER 8

  Through Dimwood Forest

  POPPY AND LILLY, followed by Junior and Mephitis, hiked along a narrow game trail through Dimwood Forest. The early morning sun, low in the sky, filtered down through the tall pine trees, splashing the ground and earth-hugging bushes with warmth in shades of yellow and orange. Here and there flowers—like lost coins, gold, white, and red—flashed. Unseen birds jabbered and whistled, the flutter of their wings signaling the unfolding of a new day. The forest fragrance, a blend of the sweetly living and the sweetly dying, filled the senses.

  Lilly, however, felt tense. It was hard enough to think of her father, Lungwort, being ill. That he had sent for Poppy rather than ask Lilly to solve the problems at Gray House was painful. She privately had hoped Poppy would not come. Not only was Poppy coming, but she was bringing a rude child by the name of Ragweed! A
s for the skunk, that was beyond even thinking about. Lilly tried to distract herself by collecting pine seeds, knowing her father had a fondness for them. She kept the seeds in a folded leaf.

  Junior was nervous. Within a short time they had moved farther away from the snag than he had ever gone before. The forest was larger, deeper, and darker than he had imagined. For the first time he understood why it was called Dimwood. Feeling quite puny, Junior was grateful that Mephitis was at his side, so large and confident. To hide his unease, Junior talked, but most of all he laughed. To laugh meant everything was all right.

  Mephitis was glad he was with Junior, too. He depended on the mouse’s constant sense of fun, his ready laughter, and his lack of worry. Yes, Junior liked to complain about his parents, taking for granted that they were always there to complain about. Mephitis loved to hear about Junior’s large family—not that he ever said so. Nor did he want to get too close to them. If they learned the truth about him, they might forbid him Junior’s company. That would be awful.

  As Poppy gazed about at the forest, she could only smile. She was recalling with fond amusement how her first view of the forest had filled her with awe. Since then, not only had she come to love Dimwood Forest, she adored the life of adventures and surprises she discovered there. Even as she walked, she caught sight of a spiderweb. It was wet with dew, glistening in the early sunlight— simultaneously delicate yet strong. Then she found herself thinking of Rye, the children, and Ereth. Her thoughts kept the smile on her face. If she had been alone, she might have danced.

  Instead, as she and Lilly walked side by side, Poppy set the pace, eager to complete the trip, then return home. Lilly was more careful in her steps. From behind, Poppy could hear Mephitis and Junior’s chatter. While she could not tell what they were saying, they continually broke out into boisterous laughter. A few times they exchanged belches, which evoked even more laughter. While Poppy was glad they were having such a good time—she loved their youthful exuberance—it saddened her that Junior laughed so much with his skunk friend but had stopped doing so with her. There was a time, not so long ago, that he had laughed a lot with her. To laugh with your own children—nothing was better!

  “I must confess,” Lilly said to Poppy, breaking into her thoughts, “as delightful as was my brief visit to Dimwood Forest, I’m glad to be going home. I’m sure you’re pleased to be going home, too—at last.”

  “I’ve come to think of the snag as my home,” said Poppy.

  “Goodness!” said her sister. “That old dead tree? Poppy, it doesn’t even have branches. You surprise me. I thought you had more style.”

  Poppy thought for a moment before saying, “Lilly, it’s where my family lives.”

  “Oh, I know,” said Lilly with a light laugh. “And I suppose you probably do need to live there. Still, I believe there’s nothing like one’s old home—old family. Don’t misunderstand me, Poppy. Rye seems devoted to you. I’m sure he’s a good husband. I found him very pleasant. Very accommodating. But then, after all, he is, well . . . a golden mouse. I’m sure it will be so nice for you to be among what’s most familiar—and comfortable—your own kind. The deer mice with whom you grew up. That has to be . . . well . . . restful. I’m sure you can stay as long as you like. Mama is so looking forward to your visit. No need to hurry back. Rye seems quite competent.”

  Poppy, trying to decide if Lilly was trying to be funny, stole a glance at her sister. In the end she realized Lilly was simply saying what she believed. Poppy decided it would be best if she changed the subject. “Why are you collecting those seeds?” she asked.

  “For Papa. He finds them soothing. And I like doing things for him.”

  “How long,” asked Poppy when that topic went nowhere, “did it take you to get from Gray House to my place?”

  “Most of a day,” said Lilly. “But once you get across Glitter Creek, it’s nothing.”

  “Was the water up?” Poppy asked. Mention of the creek reminded her how she first had crossed it a long time ago—short rock-to-rock leaps, during which she had slipped into the water and almost drowned.

  “I took the bridge,” said Lilly. “Now that the dreadful owl—what was his name?”

  “Do you mean Mr. Ocax?”

  “Right, Ocax. . . . Now that he has left the neighborhood, getting about is so much easier. But Poppy,” Lilly went on, “I should warn you: you’ll find Lungwort changed.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s not very strong. He spends a lot of time in that old boot of his, sleeping. Not that he wants to give up his authority as the head of the family. You know Lungwort: change is the enemy. So he does complain a lot and is easily agitated.”

  “He always was agitated,” said Poppy.

  “I suppose,” said Lilly. “And it’s that which makes me offer a suggestion.”

  “Which is?”

  “It’s about that skunk—Junior’s friend. What’s his name?”

  “Mephitis.”

  “Yes, something odd. While, I will admit, I wish he wasn’t coming along with us, I trust he doesn’t have to actually, well, you know, actually come into Gray House. It would be . . . distressing. To Papa, surely. And everyone else. Skunks, well, smell. And, have you noticed, he belches a lot.”

  Poppy stopped walking and faced her sister squarely, pink nose to pink nose. “Lilly,” she said, “you may be my sister. But you are a snob.”

  Lilly laughed lightly. “Now Poppy, someone has to keep up the old standards!”

  “I’m afraid you and I have different standards.” Upset, Poppy let her sister move ahead and waited until Junior and Mephitis caught up to her.

  As soon as the youngsters saw that Poppy was waiting for them, they became quiet. “How are you getting along?” she asked them.

  “That’s a stupid question,” said Junior.

  Poppy, ignoring Junior’s remark, said, “Mephitis, have you traveled much?”

  “Nope.” He avoided looking at her.

  “It was nice of your parents to allow you to come along. I know Junior appreciates it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I should like to meet them some day.”

  The skunk lifted his tail and waved it, but didn’t reply.

  “Have you any brothers or sisters?”

  “Guess so.”

  “Only guess?”

  “Haven’t seen them in a while.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Mama,” cried Junior, “do you have to be so nosey all the time?”

  “Junior,” said Poppy, “I’m just trying to get to know your friend a little better.”

  “That’s okay,” said Mephitis to Junior. “See,” he said to Poppy, glancing at her before averting his eyes again, “I don’t see my brother or sister because I don’t live at home.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then whom do you live with?”

  The skunk shrugged. “I’m . . . on my own.”

  Poppy stopped. “Are you saying you don’t live with your parents?”

  Mephitis shook his head.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because,” cried Junior, “he’s lazy, spoiled, self-centered, and a bad influence on everybody. All he does is make trouble and a lot of mess, so no one ought to have to put up with him.”

  “I also stink too much,” said Mephitis, grinning.

  Poppy closed her eyes.

  “The way I see it, Miss Poppy,” Mephitis went on, “families are old stuff.”

  “Aren’t you glad you asked?” Junior said to Poppy.

  “Mephitis, it seems to me—,” Poppy began to say, only to decide such talk was useless. Instead, she turned away and walked alone, her good mood completely gone.

  CHAPTER 9

  Something Ahead

  IT WAS LILLY, walking in the lead, who was the first to realize that something unusual lay ahead. When Poppy caught up to her, she had stopped walking and was standing tall on her hind legs, her
whiskers twitching as she sniffed.

  “What’s the matter?” said Poppy.

  “Shhh!” Lilly whispered. “Ahead of us. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not right.”

  “What is it?”

  “Listen.”

  Poppy did so, her pink tail stiff with tension, her large ears shifted forward. What she heard was the sound of bushes being tossed and broken. A musky smell filled the air.

  “What do you think it is?” said Lilly.

  “I have no idea,” said Poppy.

  “We need to go a different way,” said Lilly, backing up.

  “Don’t you think we should see what it is first?” said Poppy.

  “Don’t be foolish, Poppy,” snapped Lilly. “It’s always better to avoid danger before it happens. We can go a different way.”

  “But isn’t this the most direct trail?” asked Poppy.

  Even as they debated, Junior and Mephitis caught up to them. “What’s happening?” said Junior. “What are you two arguing about?”

  “Shhh!” Lilly said. “There’s something ahead.”

  “You mean the trees?” said Junior.

  Mephitis, turning to Junior, laughed and said, “No, the bushes.”

  “Whooping big fat deal,” said Junior with a grin.

  “Very whooping big fat deal,” said the skunk. He lifted a paw. Junior slapped it. That brought more laughter.

  “You are both acting immature and unenlightened!” said Lilly. “I am not going another inch forward.”

  “Then stay here,” said Poppy. “I’ll go and check.”

  “Yeah,” said Junior. “Me, too.”

  “You will not,” said Poppy. “You’ll stay here until I see what it is.”

  “Stop treating me like a baby,” said Junior.

  “I’ll stop when you stop acting like one,” Poppy returned. “Now stay!”

  Junior muttered something under his breath that Poppy was glad she did not hear. But she did hear Lilly say, “Poppy, as always, you are taking unnecessary risks and putting us in jeopardy.”

  Poppy bristled. “I like taking risks,” she snapped. “I’ll be right back.” As she went, she glanced back to make sure the others remained behind. “So silly, all of them,” she said aloud, not caring if they heard. Then she put her mind to what lay ahead.