“I need to say good-bye, Papa,” said Poppy.
“Humph,” muttered Lungwort.
“Papa,” said Lilly, “it’s really worked out well. There’s room, private room, for everyone. It’s so much better for the family. We can stay together without being on top of one another.”
“Porcupines,” Lungwort said under his breath. “Porcupines!”
Sweet Cicely gave a hug to Junior and then one to Poppy. “It was good to see you,” she said. “Do you think you might come again . . . soon?”
Poppy, wondering whether it was a question or a warning, simply said, “We’ll see.”
Lilly walked them out beyond the wreckage.
“Poppy,” she said, “thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being you.”
They exchanged another hug. This time they meant it.
CHAPTER 37
Heading Home
POPPY, ERETH, JUNIOR, AND MEPHITIS were moving along an animal trail deep in Dimwood Forest. They were going home.
“Scat stew with sandpaper,” said Ereth to Poppy. “How could you have a father like that?”
“Very few creatures get to choose their fathers,” Poppy reminded him.
“Or mothers,” added Junior, with a belch.
“You’re lucky anyone chose you,” returned Poppy. “Just remember, you all destroyed that house.”
“Oh, purple pretzel puppies,” said the porcupine. “It was just a mistake.”
“Just?”
“Miss Poppy,” said Mephitis. “Really. We didn’t mean it.”
“I’m sure,” said Poppy with a sigh.
“Anyway, it turned out okay,” said Junior. “They all found their own places. You heard them: they like it better this way.”
“I suppose a little privacy among families is a good thing,” agreed Poppy.
Suddenly Ereth stopped. “That reminds me,” he said, “I have to go somewhere.”
“Where?”
“To find some peace and quiet, bilge brain. If that’s all right with you?”
“Ereth, as always, you may do whatever you like.”
“Right,” muttered the old porcupine. He turned to Mephitis. “You coming, Misfit?”
“Coming where?” cried an alarmed Junior.
Mephitis looked about shyly. “Ereth said I could live with him in his log.”
“He did?” said Poppy, looking first at the skunk and then at the porcupine.
“But I’m not cleaning up after him,” said Ereth, “or feeding him, or teaching him, or taking care of him, or talking to him in any way whatsoever unless I want to. And the first time he stinks up the place or belches or says ‘freaking,’ he’s out. Gone. Done! Kaput!”
“But then,” asked Poppy, trying not to smile too broadly, “what are you going to do with him?”
Mephitis looked to Ereth. “Tell her yourself, Stink Star,” said the porcupine.
“He’s . . . going to teach me to swear,” said Mephitis.
Poppy ran over to Ereth, stood on her hind legs, and kissed him on the tip of his nose. Then she ran over to Mephitis and did the same. “Welcome to our neighborhood,” she said.
“French-fried Foos balls,” Ereth muttered. With crossed eyes focused on the tip of his nose, he plunged into the woods and was quickly lost to view. Mephitis hesitated, looked at Junior, grinned, and said, “See you later, pal.” Then he trundled after Ereth as fast as his own short legs would take him.
“Cool,” said Junior. “That means he’ll be living right next to us.”
As Poppy and Junior resumed their walk, she said, “Junior, I do have to ask you something: you’ve never said what you think of my parents.”
“Oh yeah. Well, your mother is a wilted flower. Your father is funny—but I don’t think he means to be.”
“No . . . what I mean, is, do you think . . . I’m . . . like them?”
“Do you want to be?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, you aren’t,” said Junior. “No more than I want to be like you or Papa. But I’d like to go back.”
Poppy stopped. “You would?”
“Yeah. See, there was this mouse, name of Laurel. . . .”
Poppy gazed at Junior. “What about her?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Junior, looking everywhere but at Poppy. “Sort of wicked.”
Poppy was sure his red fur turned a shade redder.
“What’s with you?” Junior asked, finally getting the courage to look at his mother.
“Ragweed Junior, have I told you recently how much I love you?”
Junior laughed. “Hey, a mouse has to do what a mouse has to do.”
“Well, I do love you!” she cried as she gave him a hug. After a moment he returned it.
CHAPTER 38
Another E-mail
To: DerridaDeconstructionCompany.com
Subject: Old Lamout Farmhouse
Went out to the old Lamout place. Bulldozer had been moved. House crushed. Mice, smelling like skunks, have turned red. They belch a lot, too. Something really weird going on there. I’d suggest you stay away—as long as there are red mice, anyway.
CHAPTER 39
Poppy’s Return
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON when Poppy and Junior reached the snag. Mariposa, Verbena, and Crabgrass were playing out front. Mariposa saw Poppy first. “It’s Mama! And Junior!” she cried.
In moments the rest of the family poured out of the snag and clung to Poppy, trying to pull her in as many directions as possible. Rye was there, too, standing back but grinning broadly.
“How did it go?” he called over the squeaky din.
“It was a smash!” said Junior.
Not until late that night did Poppy and Rye find a moment to be alone. It was then she told him all that had happened.
Then he asked, “Was it worth the going?”
“I suppose. But do you know the best thing about going away?” said Poppy.
“What’s that?”
“Coming home,” said Poppy. “To all of you. ’Specially you.” She took up Rye’s paw and held it.
Side by side, Poppy and Rye watched as a thin crescent moon, high in the sky, shed faint light over Dimwood Forest. The chirp of crickets counted the quiet moments.
“Rye?” said Poppy after a while.
“What?”
“I think I’m getting old.”
Rye leaned over, gave her a nuzzle, and into her ear whispered, “You’re just changing—again.”
Excerpt from Poppy and Ereth
CHAPTER 1
The Hard Winter
IT WAS A HARD WINTER in Dimwood Forest. Temperatures were low, snows deep, nights long, and the winds sharp. Most forest animals remained tucked away in their underground homes, burrows, and caves, sleeping or eating the food they had stored the summer before. It was that way, too, with Poppy and Rye, who kept
