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! As 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
