The Tiny Hero of Ferny Creek Library

by Linda Bailey

  “SAFE!” said Alfie. “She said I’d be SAFE here. And now I’m not safe at ALL. Now I’m in PRISON!” Alfie let out a wail, a kind of high KRRREEEEEEE sound that was so piercing, it could be heard even by a Squisher.

  “Alfie, hush!” said Min in such a stern voice, he obeyed.

  Eddie clung to the keyhole in misery. “It’s all my fault, Aunt Min.”

  “YES, IT IS!” yelled Alfie. “KRRREEEEEE!”

  “Listen, Eddie—” began Min.

  “I’m the one who put you in the drawer,” interrupted Eddie. “I’m the one who wrote the stickies and scared the Grischer and made the Principal come and got you locked in that desk—”

  “And ME, TOO!” yelled Alfie. “I’m LOCKED in here, too. Me and Auntie Min are stuck in here FOREVER, Eddie, for the rest of our LIVES, and it’s ALL YOUR FAULT! KRREEEEEEEE!”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” said Min. “Cut it out, both of you. Eddie, this is not your fault. You’ve been nothing but brave and helpful. If it weren’t for you, I’d be finished—as dead as poor Miss Cavendish. You have saved my life every single day, and that’s the truth.”

  Eddie didn’t have tear ducts, so he couldn’t cry. But he sure felt like crying. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “But . . . what do we do?”

  There was a long silence.

  “I don’t know, dear. I’m not going to lie—we’re in a jam. I don’t worry for myself. But I’m very sorry this is the day Alfie happened to—”

  “KREEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

  “Stop it, Alfie! I’m sorry that Alfie is trapped. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. Your parents will never forgive me, and they’re right.”

  “Oh, Aunt Min . . .”

  “Eddie, listen, you can’t stay here. It’s Friday lunch. The book club will be meeting any moment. You need to hide. We’ll talk later.”

  Eddie knew this made sense. But it nearly broke his heart to crawl away from that keyhole, leaving his brother and his aunt trapped in—Alfie was right—a jail.

  There was nowhere to go but the floor. All afternoon, he huddled against a desk leg, overwhelmed by sad thoughts. Somehow he had managed to fail at everything. He was supposed to rescue his aunt, and he hadn’t. He was supposed to save the Library, and he hadn’t. He was supposed to prove to his parents that he wasn’t a nincompoop. . . and he certainly hadn’t done that!

  Instead, his aunt and his brother were now trapped in a space that could easily become their grave.

  When the school day ended, the Grischer brought in more cardboard boxes. She began filling them with books, muttering unhappily the whole time.

  “Hogwash!” she said as she slammed books into the box. “Drivel! What a useless pile of hooey!”

  Her phone rang, and she slipped into her chair.

  “Yes, Robert,” she said to her brother. “I’m working on it right now. Dumping the magic books. Harry Potter, blah-blah-blah. The last thing this library needs is flying wizards. Bad enough that it has this weird . . . presence. Honestly, I can feel it. This very second.”

  Eddie flinched. Presence? Was she talking about him?

  “I notice,” added the Grischer, “that it hovers . . . right around this desk. Yes. Definitely! There’s something about this hideous old desk.”

  Uh-oh, thought Eddie.

  When she hung up the phone, she didn’t go back to packing. Instead, she sat stiffly in her chair, her black-booted feet still as death. She stayed there for a strangely long time. Not moving. What was she doing?

  And then Eddie knew. She was listening.

  Alarmed, he listened too. Could Min accomplish a miracle? Could she keep his brother quiet in the drawer?

  At last, the Grischer stood up. Eddie listened for the tink of the hanger as she put on her coat. He waited for the click that announced the locking of the Library door.

  Then he crawled up to the keyhole.

  “Aunt Min?”

  “Eddie?”

  “I won’t leave you, I promise. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay right here and make sure you have food and—”

  “Eddie, stop,” said Aunt Min. “You have to go home. Let me tell you why. Your parents are frantic right now. They’ve lost you, they’ve lost Alfie, and they don’t know what’s going on. I know it’s hard, but you have to go back and tell them. We’ll be okay here. It’s Friday, so the school will be closed for two days. We’ll be fine.”

  “But Aunt Min, you need food.”

  “Yes, we do. Before you go, you can fetch some. Do you think you’ll be able to push it through this keyhole?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Eddie. It was such a small thing to do.

  “Thank you,” said Min.

  “I’ll be right back. Stay where you are.”

  Realizing what he had said, Eddie clapped a foot over his mouth.

  Aunt Min managed a weak laugh. “We’ll stay here, Eddie. No problem.”

  “KRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” wailed Alfie.

  CHAPTER

  23

  In the end, Eddie didn’t go home till Sunday. It took that long to fetch enough food for Aunt Min and Alfie. He raided the teachers’ room again and again, relieved each time to see no further sign of the Mouse.

  Min thought he was bringing too much food.

  “Really, Eddie,” she protested as he pushed more bread crumbs through the keyhole, “we already have a big stash.”

  “Can you get some more LICORICE?” asked Alfie. “The SQUISHERS took it AWAY!”

  “Alfie, hush,” said Min.

  Eddie just kept gathering more food, not daring to name his worst fear. What if something happened to him on the way home? What if he got hurt or squished? And couldn’t come back? And never got a chance to tell his parents? Dying of squishing would be bad. But dying of slow starvation in a drawer would be horrific. He couldn’t leave till Min and Alfie had as much food as possible.

  Aunt Min may have been thinking the same thing. She waited till Sunday morning to say, in her firmest voice, “Go home, Eddie. Now! Eyes open, antennae up. No dawdling, no daydreaming. And Eddie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Tell your parents I’m sorry. Tell them. . . .” Her voice faltered.

  “I will.”

  It was good that the school was empty. Even so, Eddie had to be careful. You never could tell about a school on the weekend. There could be science fairs. Band practices. Sports games. Meetings. There was no way to know.

  The first part of the journey was easy. Morning sun poured through the big front door of Ferny Creek Elementary, its beams bright with dust motes, dancing above Eddie’s head. Eddie stared up, entranced, at a secret universe he had never noticed before. He thought of Horton Hears a Who! Were there tiny creatures up there, living on those specks of dust? Did the creatures have families? Nephews? Aunties? Brothers?

  “‘A person’s a person, no matter how small,’” said Eddie out loud.

  He turned toward home. Before him stretched the great hallway, and again, he felt awed by its vastness. He began to walk.

  He was nearing the halfway point when he spotted a dark blur. Looking more closely, he made out . . . legs. Lots of them.

  Oh, no, thought Eddie. Not you again.

  But there it was—the Spider. That very same stalker he had met before, so tall and fierce. Crouched now against the baseboard, it stood right in Eddie’s path, waiting.

  This time, there was no boy.

  If Eddie tried to walk past, it would block his path. He knew it. It would force him back.

  He couldn’t go back.

  Suddenly he remembered the Mouse. Eddie had faced the Mouse! He had faced that Mouse and survived.

  Standing taller now, he faced the Spider.

  It didn’t move.

  Was this some kind of trap?

  Creeping forward, almost into striking range, Eddie began to sense that the spider’s stillness was not what he had thought. The closer he got, the more certain he grew�
�

  The Spider was dead.

  It had somehow just died on its way down the hall.

  This should have made Eddie feel better. But as he looked into the Spider’s strange eyes, he found himself wondering, as he had already wondered about the dead fly and the dust creatures—did the Spider have a family?

  He thought about his own family. He had never been away from them for so long. He hurried on. It was midday when he arrived at Room 19. He paused in the doorway to look for his raisin. Gone.

  At that moment, the smells of the room—his very own classroom—washed over him. The chalk, the felt markers, the apple cores. The cough drops Mr. Patullo kept in his desk. Frankie the guinea pig, who had visited the class in March—only for two weeks, but his smell lingered on.

  Home!

  A surge of excitement rushed through him. He ran toward the chalkboard, eager to see Ma and Pa and tell them all about—

  He stopped.

  Remembered. Aunt Min, Alfie.

  His feet dragged as he walked the final steps. It was like walking through carpet.

  CHAPTER

  24

  “EDDIE! EDDIE! EDDIE!”

  The second Eddie stepped into the crack in the wall, he was swarmed. Everyone wanted a hug. With so many sisters and brothers, Eddie was all but trampled in the rush.

  When he finally broke free, Ma and Pa were waiting.

  “Sweetheart, darling, Eddie!” Ma clutched him to her thorax. Pa clasped them both, creating such a tangled knot that they all toppled over.

  “He’s home!” cried Pa, as he hauled himself to his feet. “Our boy is really home.”

  Eddie tried to enjoy the moment. It wouldn’t last.

  “Eddie?” Ma looked past him. “Have you seen Alfie? He disappeared two days ago. We thought he might have gone after you. Oh, Pa, where could he be?”

  “Ma, wait,” said Eddie. “I know where Alfie is. He did follow me—to the Library. He’s there now, with Aunt Min.”

  “Thank goodness!” Ma sagged with relief. “But why didn’t they come home?”

  Eddie took a very deep breath. Then he told his parents everything—not hiding any of his own mistakes, not trying to blame anyone but himself. Not even the Grischer.

  When he finished, no one spoke. Everyone—his parents, his little brothers and sisters, his very little brothers and sisters—just stood there, staring at him with blank expressions. They seemed to be waiting for a happy ending.

  “I’m sorry,” said Eddie. “I’m so very, very sorry.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Pa. “Is there no way at all to get that drawer open?”

  Eddie shook his head.

  “And there’s no other way out?”

  Eddie crumpled with misery. “The keyhole’s too narrow.”

  “No way . . . at all?” whispered Ma.

  “No.”

  A gloom descended. Nobody blamed Eddie. There were no why-didn’t-you’s or you-should-have’s or if-only’s. There was nothing but an enormous sense of loss. Ma and Pa slumped against one another, too wretched to move. The crack-in-the-wall was more crowded than ever, but Eddie could feel the cold, empty spaces that should have been filled by Alfie and Min. He would have done anything to bring them home.

  Sitting there with his grieving family, who just a moment before had been so happy, Eddie felt a pain so fierce, it was like being squished—like having a giant foot come down and flatten him to a paste.

  He stood it as long as he could. Then he rose firmly onto all six feet.

  “Ma? Pa? I’m going back.”

  “What?” Ma stirred from her grief. “You certainly are not.”

  “Yes, I am. It’s my fault they’re trapped there, and I’ll get them out—even if I have to eat a hole through that desk.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Ma. “Pa! He thinks he’s a termite now. He thinks—”

  “Let him go,” said Pa. “He’s right. They need looking after.”

  “What?” said Ma. “You mean . . . forever?”

  Eddie nodded. “If necessary. I’ll stay as long as I have to.”

  “Let him go,” said Pa. “I’d do it myself if my legs were up to it, but—”

  “They aren’t,” said Eddie. “It has to be me.”

  And that’s how, half an hour later, he found himself hiking past the dead spider again. His parents had agreed that he should return to the Library as quickly as possible. The Squishers would be back in the morning

  He reached the Library just before sundown. Shadows filled the corners. Silence filled the room. Even the clouds through the skylight looked gloomy.

  “Aunt Min? Alfie?” he called, when he reached the keyhole.

  “Eddie?” Alfie’s voice was unusually quiet. “Is that you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. You okay?”

  “I guess,” said Alfie. “Auntie Min’s not so good.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, she’s . . . sad.”

  “Oh,” said Eddie. “Where is she? In the secret compartment?”

  “Yeah. She’s not moving much.”

  “Oh,” said Eddie again. “Do you have enough food?”

  “Lots,” said Alfie. “We’re not very hungry. Do you want me to push some out for you?”

  “Okay.” Eddie waited as Alfie forced a bit of apple through the keyhole. “Thanks.”

  And there Eddie stayed, clinging to the keyhole for as long as he could, nibbling on apple and trying to cheer up his little brother. When he could hang on no longer, he climbed up on top of the desk. That’s where he spent the night. Out in the open. Alone.

  He had lots of time to think. And worry.

  Yes, he could feed Min and Alfie. He could keep them from starving. But how long would that last? How long before the Grischer, eager to transform the Library, decided to dump the old desk, along with its tiny inhabitants?

  Did Aunt Min know how much the Grischer hated the desk? Did she understand how bad the situation was?

  Yes, of course she did. That’s why she was sad.

  As the sun rose, Eddie crawled underneath the desk. He tucked himself up next to the wooden leg. This would be his new home. This floor. This dust.

  Suddenly he wished, with all his heart that he too had gotten trapped in the desk drawer.

  CHAPTER

  25

  The first thing Eddie saw when he woke up Monday morning was the Grischer’s feet. Again, he had missed her arrival. And now as he roused himself, there they were, right in his face—two long, narrow feet wearing pointy suede boots the color of a fawn.

  It was not a good start to the day.

  A moment later, the Library door opened. KA-BANG!

  “Can we come in, Ms. Grisch?”

  Eddie perked up. It was Hazel! Other children giggled in the background.

  “We just want to peek,” said Hazel.

  “Peek?” said the Grischer. “Peek at what?”

  “At the bookshelves,” said Hazel. “We want to see if there are any new stickies.”

  “I’ve already checked,” said the Grischer, “and—wait a minute! What’s that you’re wearing on your shirt?”

  Hazel stepped forward while her friends scattered to the shelves. Eddie watched their feet rush past.

  “Do you mean this?” said Hazel. “It’s a button. See? The kind you pin on. My mom has a machine to make them. For her store in the mall. It’s called Whoopsidoodle, and it has—”

  “Never mind what it has. Show me the button.”

  “Sure,” said Hazel. “See? It says ‘please save the library.’ Just like the stickies!” Her voice bubbled with excitement. “We made twenty-five on Saturday. Yellow like the stickies.”

  There was a silence. The Grischer’s long legs twisted slowly around one another. “Are other students wearing these buttons, too?”

  “Yeah, lots,” said Hazel. “But we haven’t given them all away yet. Would you like one?”

  “No!” said the Gris
cher abruptly. “But—”

  “It’s okay,” said Hazel. “We can make more.”

  At that moment, a pair of red shoes came bounding into view—one of Hazel’s friends. “No new stickies this morning!” reported Marigold from Room 19.

  “We looked all over,” added Lucy, right behind.

  “That’s okay,” said Hazel. “We can’t expect a new sticky every day. Bye, Ms. Grisch. See you later!”

  As the girls left, they passed two more children coming in. Boys, from the look of their shoes—brown sandals and black-and-white high-tops. They were pulling a grown-up Squisher—men’s loafers.

  “Just came to take a look at the rocking chair,” said the Squisher. “I remember the old days when Miss Cavendish used to visit. My boys are all excited that I knew her. Hey, yeah, there it is. The chair! Wow! Look at it.”

  “Yes,” said the Grischer sourly. “Look at it.”

  “Want to see my new button, Ms. Grisch?” said one of the boys. “It looks just like the yellow stickies.”

  “Mine, too,” said the other. “See?”

  “Great idea, these buttons,” said the big Squisher. “I’ve been trying to get my boys to read more. Maybe you have some suggestions?”

  The Grischer was obliged to follow them to the bookshelves.

  Watching from under the desk, Eddie was dumbfounded. He had listened—to Hazel, to the boys and their father—with growing astonishment. Buttons? His stickies had been turned into buttons? And the children were wearing them at school? How amazing was that?

  Not as amazing, it turned out, as what happened next . . .

  THUMP went the floor behind Eddie.

  “YOW!” said a familiar voice.

  Eddie turned. “Alfie?”

  Alfie lay flipped on his back on the linoleum floor, his legs waving wildly. After an awkward roll, he clambered to his feet.

  “Alfie!” whispered Eddie, rushing over. “How did you get here?”

  “I FELL!” said Alfie. “It really HURT, Eddie!”

  “Shh!” Eddie listened for the Grischer’s voice. It was faint now, in the distance. “Okay, tell me, quick—how did you get out of the drawer?”

  “There’s a little GAP at the back.” Alfie danced in excited circles. “Between the DRAWER and the TOP of the DESK. I FOUND it, Eddie, all by MYSELF! Auntie Min didn’t even know it was there. YOU didn’t know about it, either.”