“I’m right here, Papa,” cried Poppy. “You need to get out of the house right away. The bulldozer is coming.”
“Coming? When? Where?”
“This very second! It’s about to knock the house down.”
“How close is it?” Lilly asked.
“It’ll be here in minutes. The house is sure to collapse.”
“Oh dear,” cried Sweet Cicely. “Why must this happen right in the middle of Lungwort’s nap?”
Lungwort managed to get up but pulled himself free from Sweet Cicely’s grasp. “Let me go, drat it! I can move on my own.”
“Dearest,” implored Sweet Cicely, taking hold of Lungwort again. “You really must leave the house.”
“Never!” cried Lungwort. “A mouse goes down with his house. Poppy, why aren’t you doing something?”
“Papa,” cried Lilly. “If you stay, you’re going to be killed.”
“Who would be mad enough to destroy Gray House?” cried Lungwort.
“What does it matter, Papa?” said Lilly. “It’s happening.”
Lungwort blinked, as if finally understanding. “But . . . but then what should I do?” he cried.
“Papa,” said Poppy. “Listen to Lilly! She knows best.”
Lungwort looked around. “She does?”
“Yes!”
With Lungwort allowing himself to be helped, they all began to move out of the boot.
“But who is committing this heinous crime?” the old mouse demanded as they approached the front door of the house. “What terrible beast is doing this? I demand an answer!”
“Please, Papa,” said Lilly. “There’s no time to talk. We just need to get out of the house.”
“But what will happen to us?” said Lungwort. “This is the only home we have!”
“You can decide later,” said Lilly. “Your safety is what’s important now.”
On the porch most of the mice had already fled to secure locations at some distance from the house. Poppy could see them scattered through the grass, staring with a mix of horror and fascination at the huge bulldozer, which was still moving, though at a painfully slow pace, toward the house. The horrifying vision was made even worse by the spewing of black fumes and the deafening snarl of the motor.
“This way, dearest,” Sweet Cicely coaxed as she and Lilly urged, pushed, and pulled Lungwort down the porch steps.
Poppy, keeping a vigilant eye on the approaching bulldozer, came right behind. Suddenly she realized she was not seeing a human in the cab. She was so baffled she stopped and stared: the bulldozer appeared to be moving entirely on its own.
Lungwort, supported by Sweet Cicely and led by Lilly, reached the ground and moved haltingly to safety. As Poppy followed, she stole a look back. No one was coming out the door. It appeared as if the entire house had been evacuated.
She turned back to the bulldozer. The great machine was rumbling forward, drawing ever closer to Gray House. As Poppy fixed her eyes on it, she knew with wrenching certainty there was no way it could avoid striking the house. The structure was doomed. Even so, she did not move. Why, she kept asking herself, was no one driving the machine?
As the bulldozer drew ever nearer, Poppy told herself she absolutely must move. She was just about to leap for safety when she suddenly saw a head pop up in the bulldozer cab. It was Ereth.
Poppy opened her mouth in astonishment. The next moment she saw Mephitis lift his head. And there, standing atop the cab’s dashboard was Junior, his red fur a sharp contrast to the bulldozer’s dirty yellow color.
There being no time to stand there flabbergasted, Poppy raced to the end of the porch and dived onto the grass below. Landing awkwardly, she picked herself up, gave herself a shake, ran a few feet, then turned to look back.
Every eye of every mouse was fixed upon the bulldozer.
The machine struck Gray House, its great blade smacking the structure squarely with a horrendous crunching sound. The porch collapsed. The front wall of the house caved in. Glass windows shattered in a storm of tinkling—like wind chimes gone mad. The attic floor dropped. The roof buckled. Cedar shingles popped, flying in every direction as if they were wet watermelon seeds. A cracking and snapping filled the air, like a fusillade of firecrackers. And over it all a great plume of dust bloomed in the shape of a blossoming flower.
Even then the bulldozer did not stop. With a shudder and shake and an increased roar of its engine, its exhaust tailpipe billowing black smoke, it pushed on. For just a moment it seemed to strain, trembling—until, with an appalling, ear-blasting crack, the old house—or the heap that it had become—snapped off its foundation. That achieved, the bulldozer gathered new momentum and plowed on. The mountainous mass of misshapen house, which now looked more like a gigantic overturned bird’s nest, began to slide along the ground, the entire pile heading for the Old Orchard.
The mice, standing in what was once the front yard of the house, watched in awestruck silence.
The bulldozer was anything but quiet. Roaring, spewing ghastly fumes, it shoved the mangled wreckage until the great heap went hard up against an old apple tree. There the machine churned and stopped its forward movement. With a final barking burst of noxious fumes, the engine sputtered, gave a terrible shudder, and produced an enormous belch before at last falling into a profound hush.
In the absolute silence that followed, nothing—no mouse, no bird, no leaf—dared move.
Poppy, having witnessed the entire event, could think of nothing but whether anyone else had noticed what she had: that Ereth, Junior, and Mephitis were in the driver’s cab.
The answer came quickly. Into the deep and painful silence came Lungwort’s bellowing, hacking voice: “That machine was driven by a porcupine!”
Poppy ran for the bulldozer.
CHAPTER 33
Introductions
WHEN THE BULLDOZER FINALLY CAME to a stop, Ereth gave a woozy shake of his head. “I don’t know what to say,” he muttered. Junior, Mephitis, and he stared out from the cab. The broken bits that had once been Gray House lay in a colossal heap before them. From it a curl of dust rose like a twist of frayed ribbon.
“Wow,” muttered Junior, “that was freaking nasty.”
“Awesome,” agreed Mephitis, trying not to look at Junior. “Did you hear that machine belch?”
“Ultimate wicked!” said Junior, but he quickly turned to Ereth.
“Uncle Ereth?” he said.
Ereth shook his head. “What?”
“Please don’t tell my mama.”
Junior and Mephitis finally looked at each other. When they did, they started to laugh—and could not stop. Mephitis laughed so hard, he fell down, rolled over, stuck his stumpy legs into the air and churned them as if he were galloping. Junior, shrieking “Was that bad, or was that really bad,” leaned his head against the cab well, held his stomach with one front paw, and wiped away tears with the other. Then he reached toward the skunk and cried, “Dude, that was the baddest doings in the whole wide universe!”
Mephitis slapped Junior’s paw with a resounding smack. He was so excited he jumped onto the engine cowling, turned upside down on his front paws, and sent a cloud of stink over the bulldozer!
“Frosting on the cake!” shrieked Junior. “Frosting on the cake!” He was shaking so hard with laughter, he fell down backward.
“No one is going to believe this!” said Mephitis as he crawled back into the cab. “No one!” He and his buddy slapped paws anew.
“Stop that!” screamed Ereth. “Don’t you realize what’s happened?”
“We’ve . . . blown . . . the house . . . down!” sputtered Junior through his laughter.
“Demolished it—completely,” said Mephitis, struggling to keep from laughing and failing. “I mean there’s . . . nothing left.”
“Nothing!” cried Junior.
“Let’s just hope no one was inside,” said Ereth.
“Oh my gosh,” said Junior, laughing no more. “Do you think there migh
t be?”
“Could be.”
“But . . . that would be awful,” said an equally sober Mephitis.
Next moment a voice called to them from below. “Ereth! Junior! Mephitis! What have you done with this horrid machine?”
They looked down. It was Poppy. She was standing by the bulldozer’s side and looking up.
“Done?” said Ereth. “What do you think, fly fidget: I was trying to stop it.”
“Trying to stop it?” cried Poppy. “Do you understand what you’ve done?”
“Me?” said Ereth. “What makes you think it had anything to do with me?”
“You are the responsible adult.”
“I am?”
“Of course you are!”
Ereth looked at Junior. Junior looked at him. The young mouse was clenching his teeth tightly to keep from breaking into laughter again. Mephitis turned away.
“Ereth,” cried Poppy. “Can’t you see that you’ve completely destroyed Gray House!”
“Hey, Mama,” Junior managed to say. “I thought it was going to happen anyway.”
“But not by you,” cried Poppy. “Erethizon Dorsatum, why are you even here?”
“Guess why, fudge whiskers. To protect you.”
To keep from laughing, Junior had to stuff a paw into his mouth.
Exasperated to the point of speechlessness, Poppy turned away and scanned the wreckage. Atop the pile she spied her old Log Cabin Syrup can, badly dented. “Unbelievable,” she whispered, as much to herself as anyone. “Unbelievable.”
“Miss Poppy . . . ,” muttered Mephitis.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Poppy managed to say.
“Come on, Mama,” said Junior, coming to his friend’s defense. “You said you wanted to be cool, didn’t you? You don’t think we meant to do it, do you?”
By this time the other mice, still in shock but sensing that the danger from the machine had passed, had begun to gather around both the wreckage and the bulldozer. They stared at it in silence.
“That’s a ridiculous, irresponsible response,” said Poppy, gazing at the wreckage. “A disaster. Totally . . . one hundred percent unacceptable!” She wrinkled her nose. “And what’s that stench?” she demanded.
“Mephitis got a little excited,” said Junior, giggling.
“Excited!”
“Sorry,” muttered Mephitis a second time, while making sure he did not look at Junior.
“How did you even get this machine to move?” Poppy demanded.
“Uncle Ereth,” said Junior, “fell onto a lever just as I was turning the key. It began to move. On its own.”
“Ereth,” said Poppy, “is that true? Are you the one to blame for this?”
“Actually,” muttered Ereth in such a low voice that Poppy was not certain she heard right, “actually, it was the salt’s fault.”
CHAPTER 34
The Wreckage
CONFIDENT THAT AT LAST the bulldozer had truly halted, some of the mice began to approach the wreckage of the house, poking and prodding it. Others continued to stare at the bulldozer. A few gazed nervously up at Ereth and Mephitis.
Last to arrive was the slow-moving Lungwort, still supported by Lilly and Sweet Cicely.
“There!” cried the old mouse as he came through the crowd of onlookers. “Didn’t I tell you porcupines were the most dangerous creatures on earth?”
“Who’s that?” Ereth demanded of Poppy, lifting his head.
Poppy sighed. “It’s my father, Lungwort. Papa, I’d like you to meet Ereth, my friend.”
“Friend!” sputtered Lungwort. “This so-called friend of yours was driving that machine! He’s the one responsible for smashing down our dearly loved house.”
Poppy took a deep breath, offered a reproachful look at Ereth, and said, “I’m afraid so.”
“Grandpa,” said Junior.
“What?”
“It wasn’t Ereth. It was me. I did it.”
“Impossible. How could you?”
“I turned the key. Really. It was my fault.”
“Please,” said Poppy, “all three of you, come down here. I’m afraid we need to make some introductions—and explanations.”
Ereth, Mephitis, and Junior reluctantly climbed down from the bulldozer. The mice gathered around, staring. Mephitis and Junior, side by side, kept bumping each other, suppressing giggles. An embarrassed Ereth scowled, his tail twitching.
“Ereth, I should like you to meet my parents,” began Poppy. “Papa, Mama, this is Ereth. This is Junior’s friend Mephitis.”
“Keep that porcupine away from me!” cried Lungwort, backing away. “Porcupines are a menace. A danger. A threat to the peace. And he stinks. Away with him!”
“Cardboard crocodiles,” Ereth said, turning to Poppy with a look of exasperation.
“Uncle Ereth,” said Junior, “I don’t think he likes you.”
“Well, I don’t like him, either! He’s just a toilet bowl of nose drip!”
“And who are you,” shouted an enraged Lungwort. “You . . . you bumbling beast of destruction!”
“See here, you—,” Ereth began to reply.
“Ereth,” shouted Poppy with all her breath. “For once, be quiet!”
“Mice cavorting with porcupines and skunks,” cried Lungwort. “The world’s gone insane. I want nothing to do with it! Poppy, if this is the way you would lead the family, I clearly have made a grave mistake. Is there no one who understands me?” he cried.
Lilly held out a paw. “Papa, would you like a pine seed?”
Lungwort stared at her and blinked. “Lilly,” he cried, “it’s perfectly clear you should be the head of the family!”
With a snort, Lungwort pulled off his thimble cap and brought it down on Lilly’s head. Then, muttering under his breath, he marched haltingly away, Sweet Cicely and Lilly by his side. Lilly, reaching up to touch the cap, tried to suppress a smile—but could not.
Even as she did, a mouse in the yard called out, “Look! A human just arrived!”
All the animals turned their attention to Tar Road. Sure enough, a pickup truck had driven up and stopped. The next moment a man stepped out.
CHAPTER 35
A Discovery
THE MAN WHO GOT OUT of the truck was the same one—tan overalls and large stomach—who had come before. Now he stood by the side of the truck and looked about where the bulldozer had been. Puzzled by what he was not seeing, he pulled at the peak of his cap a couple of times. Then he spied the collapsed house and the bulldozer. He stared, puzzlement deepening. With another tug on his cap, he moved cautiously toward the wreckage.
The mice scattered.
As for Ereth and Mephitis, they ran behind the wreckage and crouched down. Poppy and Junior were with them.
“I don’t know how I am ever going to forgive you for this,” Poppy whispered.
“Freckled pork feathers,” said Ereth, “who are you talking to?”
“Each and every one of you!”
“But—”
“Ereth, for once, keep still!”
Junior belched. Mephitis giggled. Poppy looked at them severely.
Up by the road, the man moved slowly, as if unsure what he was seeing. A few times he paused and looked around. When he came to the place where Gray House had stood, he gazed at the shorn foundation.
After a moment he continued on toward the bulldozer and the wreck of the house. Drawing near, he considered the mess, then suddenly turned away, covering his nose with his hands.
A grinning Junior turned to Mephitis and whispered, “You got him, dude!”
“Shhh!” said Poppy.
The man, one hand holding his nose, climbed into the bulldozer and turned the key. There was a grinding, clacking noise, but the motor did not start. Baffled, the man pocketed the key and hurried back toward his truck, looking over his shoulder, once, then twice, his brow deeply furrowed.
“Where’s he going?” asked J
unior as they stepped out from their hiding place to watch him.
“Let’s hope it’s to his own home,” said Poppy.
Just as the man approached his truck, Laurel and Pine, with a troop of their young friends, appeared. Every one of them had red fur. Unaware of what had happened at Gray House, they had gone to where the bulldozer had been.
Arriving at his truck, the man turned to take one last look back. As he saw the red mice, he halted and gasped. When the mice began to belch, he jumped into the truck and raced away.
It was Junior who said, “Cool, I think those red mice scared him.”
“Hey, everyone!”
The mice all turned. Atop the pile of rubble stood Basil. “This place has a million rooms now!” he cried. “Everyone can have a little space and privacy!”
There was a general squeal of delight as all the mice raced for the wreck and began to explore.
CHAPTER 36
Farewells
A FEW HOURS LATER, deep within the mass of rubble that had once been Gray House, in the space Lilly had found for Lungwort and Sweet Cicely, Poppy and Junior said their farewells. Lilly, the thimble cap on her head, was there, too.
“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.”