PeeWee's Tale Page 3

  The boy who was holding me squeezed me painfully. It had never hurt when Robbie held me.

  I didn’t wait for them to decide what they wanted to do with me. If Robbie had been there, it would have been different. But he wasn’t, so I knew I had to get away. Without even thinking, I did something I’d never done before. I nipped the hand of the boy who was holding me.

  “Ouch!” he shouted, and dropped me.

  My fall to the ground hurt, but I didn’t stop to think about my bruises. I ran as fast as I could to get away.

  Luckily, there was a tree nearby with one of those holes that I’d discovered earlier. I darted into the hole and waited.

  Of course, the children all came running after me.

  A hand reached into the hole. I was tempted to give another bite, but I resisted. Instead, I squeezed into the furthest corner of the dark hole and held still. If I was very quiet, maybe they would all get bored and go away.

  “Get a stick!” a boy shouted. “Poke him out.”

  I shuddered at the thought of a stick invading my hiding place. Then I heard another voice. “I just felt a drop of rain.”

  “It’s not raining. You’re crazy.”

  “No, I felt it too,” said someone else.

  “We’d better go home before the rain really starts coming down.”

  “Aw. Who’s afraid of a little rain?” another boy asked.

  Suddenly I could hear the sound of all the children running off. I waited a moment and then peeked out of my hole. A pair of squirrels came scampering past on the ground. I knew that they were some of Lexi’s brothers or cousins. But before I could introduce myself, the squirrels were chasing each other halfway up a tree.

  Drops of water were falling from the sky now. I guessed that’s what the children called rain. The sky was darker and the tree branches were swaying in the wind. I crawled back inside the tree hole and waited to see what would happen next.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Water from Above

  I pushed deep into the tree hole, but the water seemed to follow me. In fact, the water was coming through the same hole in the ground that I had used to get in. I found some leaves inside the hole and pushed them toward the opening. It kept more water from getting into my hiding place, but it also cut off my air supply. It was stuffy inside the tree.

  After a little while, I began to feel very hungry. When I pushed the leaves away from the opening in hopes of going out, the water was still pouring down, so I quickly put my head back inside the hole. My hungry stomach made me think about the pellets I ate in my cage. During my short time in the park, I had begun to think of pellets with disgust. But if only I could have a few of them now! I was starving for any kind of food.

  Once as I looked out, I could see a sudden flash of light followed by a terrifying bang. And just as I had begun longing for pellets, I started wishing for the quiet safety of my cage. But gradually, I realized that the light and noise weren’t going to harm me. Finally, I did the only thing a sensible guinea pig could do in the situation: I fell asleep.

  When I woke and opened my hole once again, the water had finally stopped falling. The flashes had stopped and the big daytime light had not yet been turned on. I suppose the smart thing to do would have been to leave the hole open and get some fresh air while I continued sleeping. But I felt too restless to stay put.

  Slowly and softly, I started off. I knew there was no way Robbie would be outdoors at this hour. So my plan was to get back to Lexi and warn him about the play area that was going to destroy his home.

  The ground around me was soft and muddy from all the water that had poured down. It wasn’t the ideal condition for walking, especially since my eyesight is not good in the dark. Once I rushed joyfully toward what looked like another guinea pig, only to discover that it was a small hard rock. I was very disappointed.

  Not long afterward, I thought I smelled something good to eat. Suddenly a voice called out, “Don’t touch this food. It belongs to me. I saw it first.”

  I squinted into the darkness and saw that just inches away, there was a huge, dark creature. Quickly, I moved so that the rock—which only moments before I had hoped was another guinea pig—was between me and this big, chewing animal. I watched as she used her strong claws to rip open a bag of food. Even in the dark, I could recognize an apple lying next to the creature, as well as something round and white. The creature took the white thing and washed it in a nearby puddle.

  “What are you?” I asked timidly.

  “My name is Sewer Drain. I’m a raccoon,” she replied through a mouthful of food.

  A raccoon! I’d never heard of a raccoon before. There were none at Casey’s Pet Shop. She looked big enough to make a meal of me.

  As if reading my thoughts, Sewer Drain spoke again. “What are you? And are you good to eat?”

  “No. No. No,” I said, trying to think of something more convincing to say. Suddenly, I remembered what Lexi had said about the apple when we had shared it earlier in the day.

  “I’m a guinea pig. My name’s PeeWee and I’m sour, sour, sour. You wouldn’t like my taste at all.”

  “Guinea pig?” Sewer Drain asked. “I’ve never seen your kind before.” She grunted and kept chewing her meal. I realized that the only reason we could have this conversation was that she was busy with the food in front of her. Otherwise, she would have bit into me first and asked questions afterward. Only then, I wouldn’t have been in any shape to come up with answers.

  “Tell me, Sue,” I said, trying to sound a little more confident, “where do you live?”

  “In a sewer drain, of course,” she said. “You aren’t very smart, are you?”

  “I guess I’m not as smart as you,” I admitted, although I did have my doubts about that. “I’m new here. Are there many other raccoons around?”

  “There are at least a dozen,” she responded, gobbling up the apple in two enormous bites.

  “Well, you be sure and tell them that guinea pigs are sour,” I reminded her.

  “Sour,” Sue repeated. “I don’t like sour. I like sweet. I like corn. I like carrots. I like sandwiches. I like garbage.”

  “Well, Sue, you’re in luck then,” I told her. “There’s loads of garbage in the park.”

  “I know that,” she agreed, washing her paws in the puddle.

  “I think there’s a lot of garbage over that way,” I told her, and pointed off in the distance, far from the direction I had come.

  “Good,” Sue said. She turned and moved slowly and quietly away. Even in the dark, I could see that she had a fine thick tail. Why was it that all the animals I met had such big tails when guinea pigs had only little stubs?

  I hoped I’d never meet Sewer Drain again. But if I did, I hoped she would remember just one thing: Guinea pigs taste sour.

  After my close escape, I thought I’d better return to my tree. But it was so dark that I couldn’t locate it. Digging a new burrow was hard now that the ground was so muddy. But eventually, I was safe inside the ground again.

  I needed a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow I would turn back and find Lexi. It was important that he hear what I’d read in the newspaper.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Water Down Below

  The sky was just turning light again when I woke. I climbed out of my burrow and looked down at myself. My beautiful fur was matted with mud from my temporary home. Grooming myself was hard work.

  I rolled in the wet grass at my feet. That loosened some of the mud, but I was still filthy. Then I had an idea. It was early, and although I could hear some birds singing in the trees above me, there were no people in sight. I ran in the direction of the lake. I remembered that every evening before he went to bed, Robbie took a bath. I could take a bath in the lake!

  At the water’s edge, I stood for a moment looking at it all. I felt that I was looking at all the water in the world. I never knew that there could be so much. Bravely, I put one paw in. The water was icy, but when I took my paw
out, I could see that it had become perfectly clean. So I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk into the freezing water. I shivered at first, but gradually, I didn’t feel the cold any more. I moved my paws and actually felt myself floating in the water. It was fun.

  Remembering all of Lexi’s warnings, I decided to get back to land. I shook myself all over and some of the water flew off my fur. The rest would soon dry from the sun.

  I hadn’t been in the water long, but already I could see a change in the park. More birds were singing, squirrels were darting about, and a few humans were walking their dogs or running along the paths.

  I hid behind a thick bush and found a leaf to nibble on. It was a bitter breakfast, but better than nothing in my empty stomach. A squirrel raced past me.

  “Hello,” I called. “Who are you? Are you related to Lexi?”

  “Fifty-nine,” the squirrel shouted, but he kept on running.

  A second squirrel was close on his heels. “Who are you?” I yelled.

  “Fifty-two,” the squirrel responded, but like the first one, he was gone before I had a chance to respond.

  At first I wondered what those numbers meant. Then I remembered what Lexi had told me. I had just met two of his relatives who were named after street numbers. I wondered if their trees were in danger of being cut down. I knew I should hurry on and find Lexi. He needed to know about the plans for the new playground.

  My travels toward his tree were pretty eventful. Two humans whizzed by me on strangely familiar devices with big wheels. I jumped out of their way and, as I caught my breath, I realized what I’d just seen. Those were bicycles. Robbie had a bicycle that stood in the hallway of his apartment. But I’d never seen it in use, and I hadn’t realized that it would be able to move so quickly.

  As I stood hiding behind a rock, I saw a squired busily eating a nut. Since he wasn’t dashing up a tree, I thought I’d have a better chance at starting a conversation. “Hello,” I called to him. “You must be a relative of my friend Lexi.”

  The squirrel looked up from his snack, “I’m his cousin. I’m Seventy-one.” He finished his nut and then added, “That’s my name, not my age.”

  “I’m PeeWee. I am a guinea pig. And yesterday I read a story in the newspaper about—”

  Before I could say another word, Seventy-one was gone like the nut he had been eating.

  Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, I felt myself being lifted into the air. For a second, I thought I had been picked up by a human. But when I twisted my head, I saw the eyes and beak of a huge bird.

  “Let me go!” I squeaked in a weak voice, terrified of my captor.

  The bird ignored me and, what’s worse, he began to fly higher and higher.

  I squirmed about in his talons as best I could, but he held me tight. When I looked down, everything looked small and far away. I closed my eyes with fright. But then I opened them again and saw that I was above the treetops, higher then Lexi had ever gone.

  Below me I saw something shining brightly. It was the lake. I knew that this was my only chance. I moved my head and took a fierce bite of the bird’s leg. I guess I surprised him, because he let go of me and I began falling, falling, falling.

  Had I landed on the ground, my story would be over. But because we had been flying over the lake, I landed with a tremendous splash in the water. My eyes and mouth filled with the lake water. I raised my head, spit out the water, and blinked my eyes so I could see. And then I swam toward the shore.

  “It’s a water rat!” I heard someone scream. But luckily, I made it safely to a crevice of a nearby tree. I sat there catching my breath for several minutes. What an adventure I would have to report to Lexi—if I ever made it back to Lexi, I thought.

  I remained in hiding for quite a long while. I had forgotten, once again, that life outside a cage was full of dangers. From one moment to the next, anything could happen to me. But as soon as I caught my breath and dried up a bit from my second bath of the morning, I began to feel better. It was my own fault. Lexi had warned me to watch where I was going.

  As I retraced the route I had taken earlier, I saw a group of pigeons flocking around a bench. I knew I didn’t have to worry about pigeons. But a human was throwing something to them and I didn’t want her to see me. Cautiously, I crept past. Suddenly, I felt myself hit by something small and hard. It was a nut that the human was throwing to the birds. I picked it up with my teeth and then hid under the bench as I ate it. If only I could manage to take some of these nuts to Lexi. Boldly, I snatched a couple more from the ground, just as a pigeon was about to pounce on them.

  “Food. Food,” he grumbled, but there were so many nuts around that he had no reason to complain.

  I kept the nuts gently inside my mouth so I could bring them to Lexi. I wished I could take still more, but my mouth was not large enough.

  I ran through the longer grass and weeds, hoping that I was going in the right direction. And finally, my efforts were rewarded. A voice called out to me.

  “So, you’re back again!”

  “Lexi!” I called, spitting out the nuts that I had been carrying. “I brought you a couple nuts.”

  “Why, so you have! Peanuts,” Lexi exclaimed delightedly.

  “I wanted to bring more, but I couldn’t carry them,” I said apologetically.

  “A nut in the jaw is worth two in the paw,” Lexi responded.

  “I have something very important to tell you,” I said. “I read a newspaper story about a new play area for children that’s going to be built right here. I’m pretty sure your tree is going to be cut down. You’ve got to find a new home and move all of your nuts.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Lexi said. “Squirrels have been climbing trees since time began. If children need something to do, why don’t they climb the trees too?”

  “Children do climb trees. But they like to do other things too. Besides, it’s already been decided. The trees are coming down. So if you want to rescue your nuts, you’d better get them now, before it’s too late.”

  “There have been lots of men walking about here lately,” Lexi admitted. “I didn’t take much notice. In fact, I was dumb enough to be proud when they pointed to my tree,” he said. “I thought they were noticing what a wonderful tree I’d selected for my home.”

  Lexi stopped talking and scampered up his tree. He returned a moment later with his mouth full of nuts. I watched as he ran off with them. I was tired after my morning’s adventures, so I sat under a nearby bush and waited to see what was going to happen next.

  “I found a new home,” a voice said in my ear. I’d been asleep, but Lexi had spotted me and come to give me the news.

  “Where is it?” I asked.

  “It’s about five hundred paws away,” he told me.

  “Is that far?” I wondered aloud.

  “Far enough away to be safe,” he said. “But near enough to feel like I’m still on my own turf. I’m sure glad that you warned me so I can take all the nuts I’ve stored away. It would be a terrible waste to lose them all.”

  “The saddest thing is to lose a home,” I told him, thinking about Robbie. “But it’s good to find another home that you like. That’s the way I feel about the park.”

  Lexi looked at me and scratched himself thoughtfully. “PeeWee,” he said, “you may not have a tail, and you may not be much of a climber, but you have a good head. A good head is worth two tails,” he observed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Life in the Park

  By dark, Lexi had transferred all of his possessions to his new home. Since I own nothing, I was amazed at how much Lexi had. I helped as well as I could by dragging a piece of cloth and later by carrying one or two nuts. I wish I could have helped him more, but I moved so slowly that Lexi made a dozen trips in the time it took me to complete just one.

  Other squirrels were busy rushing about and moving their possessions too. Two of the doomed trees were the homes of families with very young squirrels. Their mothe
rs carried them to safety. We all knew that without enough warning, those little squirrels would not have survived when their homes were destroyed.

  “How did you mange to warn all your relatives?” I asked Lexi when I saw all the activity around us. By now I’d been in the park long enough to realize that there were as many squirrels running up and down the trees as there were people walking around during daylight.

  “I told every squirrel I saw to tell every squirrel they saw to tell every squirrel they saw to tell every squirrel they saw to tell—”

  “Stop,” I said. “I understand.”

  “Anyhow, they all heard your story. And they all admitted that they’d seen too many men walking around here lately.” Lexi looked at me. “There’s just one thing I’ve been wondering about,” he said.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Tell me again, how did you discover that these trees were going to be cut down?”

  “It’s very simple,” I explained. “When I was looking for Robbie, I found a newspaper. I read all about the plan for the new play area in the paper.”

  “That’s what I thought you said,” Lexi responded. “But how did you know how to read?”

  “My mother taught me,” I told him proudly.

  “You actually know how to read?” Lexi asked me with amazement. “I’ve never heard of an animal who could read.”

  “Well, I can do it. I always thought reading would be fun. But I didn’t get any pleasure from reading that newspaper. Half of it was filled with words that held no meaning whatsoever. And the other half had bad news that upset me.”

  “I’ve been watching people read ever since I was a young squirrel,” Lexi said. “They read newspapers and magazines. They read big books and small books. And it holds their attention for hours. It must make sense, and it must be fun.”