“Yeah.”
“Promise?”
“I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Okay,” said Junior. “I’ll be back fast as I can.”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Mephitis, but when Junior didn’t move, he said, “What’s the matter?”
“I’m seriously sorry I came,” said Junior.
“But you have to. It’s your family.”
“How come you always talk about my family?” said Junior. “What about yours?”
Mephitis shrugged. “Mom and Dad got sick. Died.”
“Oh,” said Junior, suddenly afraid to look at his friend. “Brothers? Sisters?”
“Just me.”
“I thought you said—”
Mephitis shrugged again.
“Ever wish you had parents around again?” said Junior.
“Too late for that,” said Mephitis, looking down.
Junior felt he should say something more, but was fearful of using the wrong words. “Hey, what I was saying about mothers—”
“Forget it.”
“Okay,” said Junior.
For a moment neither spoke.
“Just make sure,” said Junior, “you wait here.”
“Right.”
Embarrassed to think that he had made a fool of himself, and perhaps a little angry that Mephitis had allowed him to do so, Junior wanted to get away. He started for Gray House. “Smell you later,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Mephitis, and watched his friend go, the bright red fur easy to follow in the green grass. Once, twice, Junior turned and looked back. The last time he waved.
As soon as Mephitis was sure Junior was not going to look back any more, he turned in the opposite direction. “No point hanging around,” said the skunk. “Hey, except for maybe Junior, nobody likes me. Not really.” Tears stung his eyes. “Mephitis,” he told himself. “Face it. Why would anybody like a skunk? Why don’t you do the world a favor and go jump in the river?” With that he put his pointy black nose to the ground and waddled off in the direction of Glitter Creek.
CHAPTER 20
A Red Mouse at Gray House
IT WAS A NERVOUS JUNIOR who made his way out of the Old Orchard toward Gray House. Disappointed that his friend had not come along with him, he paused twice to glance back. The first time he looked, he could still see Mephitis, his black-and-white tail wagging in the grass. The second time he looked, the tail was gone. Junior stood and stared. “Probably went back to sleep,” he muttered, wishing he were doing exactly that.
Junior sighed. He was sorry he had asked Mephitis about his parents. He had had no idea the skunk’s parents were dead. He hoped Mephitis wasn’t mad at him for asking. He looked down at himself. He was very red. Maybe, he thought, being bloody looking is not such a good thing. He rubbed his belly. Though his paws turned pinker than normal, his belly didn’t change at all. Junior flung himself down and rolled about in the grass. He remained red.
Mama is going to kill me, Junior thought with increasing nervousness. Next moment he decided his predicament was not his fault. If Poppy hadn’t invited him, he would never have come to Gray House. It’s all so dumb was the phrase that kept running through his head. And if they see me with Mama, he thought as he continued on, they’ll think I’m still a baby.
Junior moved forward, only to pause and look back one more time. Still seeing no sign of Mephitis, the mouse pressed forward, eyes down, staring at his feet. When he finally did look to check his path, there stood another mouse directly in front of him. What’s more, the mouse was staring openmouthed at Junior.
Junior came to a halt. Uh-oh, Mama’s family. I think I’m gonna puke, he thought.
Junior cast his eyes down and crouched close to the ground. He told himself to hide all emotions: the less I show them, he thought, the more invisible I’ll be. Even so, he stole a look at the staring mouse and saw then that the mouse was young—younger than he. Junior felt better.
“Hey, hello!” called the young mouse.
“Hello yourself,” returned Junior.
“Who . . . and . . . what are you?” the young mouse asked. He was staring wide-eyed at Junior.
Junior frowned. “I’m a mouse,” he muttered. “What do you think?” He belched, only to be immediately sorry he had. What was always so funny with Mephitis now felt dumb.
“I sort of guessed you were a mouse,” returned the youngster. “But I never saw a red mouse before. What kind of mouse are you? Or are you just wounded?”
“I’m a golden deer mouse. That okay with you?”
“Oh, sure. It’s great. No problem. Where do you come from?”
Junior waved in the direction of the forest.
“The forest?”
“Yeah.”
“Dimwood Forest?”
“Right.”
“Wow. That’s amazing. How come you’re here?”
“My old mouse used to live around here.”
“Your mother?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s her name?”
“Ah . . . Poppy.”
“Poppy?” shrieked the young mouse.
“You have some problem with that?” said a scowling Junior as he reared up on his hind legs and balled his paws into fists.
“You saying your mother is . . . Poppy? The Poppy?”
“What’s the big deal? Do you know her?”
“Know her? Of course I know her. Everyone knows Poppy. She’s famous.”
“She is?”
“Hey, duh, think of all the things she’s done.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. For one thing, she fought Mr. Ocax.”
“Who’s he?”
“You sure Poppy’s your mother? I mean, you must be joking. You gotta know, Mr. Ocax, the owl. The one who was dictator over this whole area.”
“Oh . . . yeah,” said Junior, who had never heard the name before. “That one.”
“You gotta know how, all alone, your mother dueled him—one porcupine quill against all his talons and beak. And she won! That owl got killed. So we were all free. Then she found this whole other place for the family to live. New House. And she had this friend, a giant porcupine. Then she went off to have more adventures in the forest. With beavers and stuff. I mean, she must be the most famous mouse in the whole world! And you’re her son? That’s fantastic. Cool. Like, you’re not just kidding me?”
“Why should I?”
“Well, if you don’t know . . . But that’s amazing. You are so lucky!
