Stink and the Great Guinea Pig Express

by Megan McDonald

  “I can’t believe we fit thirty-three cages in here,” said Stink.

  “It’s a traveling guinea pig palace,” said Sophie.

  “A piggy parade,” said Webster.

  “Squeals on Wheels!” yelled Stink.

  The following Saturday, the three friends painted the camper. Sophie painted suns and rainbows and guinea pigs riding unicorns. Webster painted moons and planets and guinea pigs riding rocket ships.

  Stink painted eyes — giant blue guinea pig eyes like Astro’s — just above the headlights on the front of the RV. And a pink nose and whiskers and a sticky-out tuft of hair above the nose.

  “Awesome!” said Webster.

  “Fur-eeky!” said Sophie.

  The kids wrote SQUEALS ON WHEELS in big letters across the side of the camper. On the back was a bumper sticker that read: VIRGINIA IS FOR LOVERS. Stink changed it to read VIRGINIA IS FOR GUINEA PIG LOVERS.

  “Done,” said Sophie.

  “Wow,” said Webster.

  “Purr-fect,” said Mrs. Birdwistle.

  Jelly Bean, Pumpkin, Piggy Wiggy, Captain Jack, Hopscotch, Izzy, Fuzzy, Wuzzy, Rapunzel, Skunk, Curly Sue, Wrinkles, Ruby, John, Paul, George, Ringo, Midnight, Mimi, Mr. Nibbles, Blackberry, Scamper, Scarlett O’Hairy, Harry, Butterscotch, Shredded Wheat, Snowball, Hash Brown, Violet, Miss Piggy . . . They named all 101 guinea pigs and loaded them into cages, sixteen cages for the boys and seventeen cages for the girls. Each cage had a list of who was inside to help keep them all straight.

  Soon 101 guinea pigs sipped at their water bottles, rattled their cage doors, and chased each other, playing hide-and-seek to their little hearts’ content.

  Beep, beep! Beep, beep, beep! Mrs. B. drove like crazy around the parking lot, honking the horn to get people’s attention. Then she parked under a big shade tree right next to a busy coffee shop.

  “Say hello to Squeals on Wheels!” called Mrs. Birdwistle.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Great Guinea Pig Giveaway! Adopt a guinea pig,” Stink called. “Or two. Or three. How about four fur balls?”

  “I hope all one hundred and one guinea pigs get adopted soon,” said Webster.

  “Except for you, Astro,” said Stink, whispering to his favorite guinea pig.

  Kids and parents crowded into the camper. “Who wants to pet a guinea pig?” asked Stink.

  “Me! Me! Me!” yelled all the kids.

  “Okay, Guinea Pigs 101: Never grab a guinea pig by the fur on its neck,” said Stink, “or you’ll scare it. Hold a piggy from underneath, like this.”

  “Brush your guinea pig every day,” said Sophie.

  “And feed them fresh fruits and veggies,” said Webster, “you know, like parsley and cherry tomatoes.”

  “Tug of war!” said Stink as Snickers and Oreo raced to munch a bunch of parsley Webster tossed into their cage.

  Two girls wearing ponytails and matching headbands asked, “Do you have any twin guinea pigs? We like everything twins.”

  “We have Fuzzy and Wuzzy!” Sophie showed them two brown-and-white pups with curly ears. Fuzzy and Wuzzy wiggled their fluffy white butts.

  “They look like they’re wearing tutus,” said one twin.

  “We’ll take them!” said the other.

  “Only ninety-nine more to go!” said Sophie.

  A tall lady with black-and-white hair and red shoes chose a white-crested guinea pig.

  “That lady looked just like Cruella De Vil,” said Stink.

  “And the guinea pig she picked looked just like her,” said Webster.

  “At least she wasn’t wearing a fur coat,” said Sophie.

  “Take home a guinea pig,” yelled Stink. “Take two. Take three. Guinea pigs are happier with a friend!”

  “We’ll take five,” said Parker, a kid Stink knew from Virginia Dare School. He was with his little brother, Cody.

  “Score!” said Stink, scooping up the guinea pigs they picked out. They chose Butterscotch, Blackberry, Hash Brown, Jelly Bean, and . . . Astro!

  “Sorry. You can’t have that one,” said Stink.

  “Why not?” asked Parker.

  “You just can’t,” Stink said.

  “Is he yours?”

  “Not exactly,” said Stink.

  “Well, whose is he?”

  “Nobody’s, but — look, there are ninety-nine million guinea pigs here. Midnight has a black patch over one eye like a pirate. Shredded Wheat has tons of hair. And Snowball’s super-friendly.” Cody started to cry. He wanted Astro and only Astro.

  No way did Stink want to give up Astro. But he knew the time would come when he’d have to, and he didn’t want to blow his chance to give away FIVE guinea pigs. Stink took a deep breath. “You’ll be okay, boy,” he whispered into Astro’s ear. “I’ll come visit you, I promise.” Stink handed him over.

  All afternoon, people streamed into Squeals on Wheels, asking questions and peering into cages to watch guinea pigs run and hide and eat and play and nap. By the end of the day, the Guinea Pig Express had found homes for seventeen guinea pigs!

  Stink felt sad about Astro. But he was proud they’d found so many good families to take care of guinea pigs.

  “Good job!” said Mrs. Birdwistle.

  “Knock, knock! Is the Guinea Pig Express still open? I brought you two more customers,” said Judy. “Rocky and Frank.”

  “We both want to adopt a guinea pig,” said Rocky. Stink passed guinea pigs to Judy’s friends.

  “Hey! This one doesn’t have a tail,” said Rocky.

  “Guinea pigs don’t have tails,” said Stink.

  “Mine looks like Chewbacca from Star Wars!” said Frank Pearl.

  “He’s called a Silkie,” said Stink. “Because he’s way hairy.”

  “He looks like a rug,” said Judy.

  “Hey, Chewy!” said Frank, stroking the little guy.

  Wee, wee, wee, wee, wee! “My guy sure is noisy,” said Rocky.

  “That just means it’s hungry,” said Stink.

  “Stink, since when do you speak guinea pig?” Judy asked. “Ooh, it’s like you’re the Guinea Pig Whisperer or something.”

  “Or something,” said Stink. “If your guinea pig goes Arr! Arr! and barks like a seal, that means it’s lonely. And purring means —”

  “Your guinea pig got eaten by a cat?” Judy asked.

  “No! It means it’s curious. If it goes Pttp! Pttp! like a tiny trumpet, that means it’s happy. Rrrrrrrrrr!” Stink trilled, like a car motor.

  “What’s that one mean?”

  “That your guinea pig’s in the best mood ever,” said Stink. “It means, Ooh-la-la!”

  Nineteen guinea pigs! Stink was feeling pleased as punch all weekend about the Great Guinea Pig Giveaway.

  Until Monday at school, that is. Parker stopped Stink in the hall. “We have to give back our guinea pigs,” Parker said. “Both Hash Brown and Butterscotch chewed holes in the new sofa. Blackberry made a nest out of my sister’s doll’s hair. And Jelly Bean ate a whole bag of jelly beans and made rainbow poop in my mom’s go-to-work shoes.”

  Stink couldn’t help laughing. “What about Astro?”

  “Astro tiptoed across my dad’s computer keyboard and e-mailed his boss by mistake.”

  “Good boy!” said Stink. “I mean, too bad. Well, you’ll just have to take them back to Mrs. Birdwistle.”

  “Can’t you take them? My mom’ll freak if I bring them home again.”

  “My mom will freak, too,” said Stink. He peered at the squirming heap of fur balls. Astro looked up at him and made a tiny trumpet sound. Stink’s heart melted.

  “Never mind. I’ll take them back for you.”

  Parker handed over the cardboard carrier to Stink.

  “Astro!” Stink whispered to his furry friend. “You came back!”

  The five guinea pigs slept their way through social studies, ran their way through recess, and squeaked up a storm all the way through Mrs. D.’s exciting reading of The Mouse and the Motorcycle.
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  On the way home, Stink told Judy what happened. “Do you think if I ask super-duper nice this time, Mom and Dad might let me keep Astro?”

  “Yes,” said Judy. “When guinea pigs fly.”

  “Hardee-har-har,” said Stink. “But I’m serious. I let Astro go and he came back. It’s a sign.”

  “A sign that you’re cuckoo if you think you can keep him.”

  When Stink got home, he rushed up to his room before his mother could see him and slid the carrier under his bed. Maybe he could hide them for just a little while. How hard could it be to hide a few furry critters?

  He ran down to the kitchen and piled salad greens and a baby carrot, a strawberry, and a melon cube on a plate. “Good for you, Stink,” said Mom. “A healthy snack for once, instead of all those jawbreakers.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Stink. He hurried back upstairs to his room.

  Judy met him in the hall. “Stink, I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” she said, blocking the doorway.

  Stink tried to see past her. “What do you mean?”

  “Your underwear, Stink. It’s alive!”

  Stink pushed past her, and Judy followed. A pair of underpants dashed across the floor, up and over his bed, and around the legs of his desk.

  “Holy underwear!” Judy yelled. She jumped out of the way.

  “Attack of the Mutant Undies!” said Stink, chasing the runaway underpants around his room. “Helppp!”

  Judy helped Stink corner the undies behind his wastebasket. Stink pounced on the undies. “Gotcha!” Up popped Astro’s head through a leg hole.

  “Look over there!” Judy said. Four more guinea pigs were peeking up out of Stink’s bottom dresser drawer. “It’s the Brotherhood of the Traveling Undies.”

  “You guys are going to get me busted,” said Stink, putting them all back into the carrier. “Stay in there, Astro, you hear me?”

  “I’m outta here,” said Judy in a squeaky-high voice, pretending to be Astro. “This place is really stinky.”

  “Very funny, Judy,” said Stink.

  “Stink, you’re the one who’s a Guinea Pig Whisperer. You can hear guinea pigs talk, remember? That wasn’t me. That was Astro.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s he saying right now?”

  Judy held her ear up to the carrier. “He’s saying, ‘Help! Save me! I have a piggly-wiggly wedgie!’”

  After the Attack of the Mutant Undies, Stink took all five guinea pigs back to Fur & Fangs and broke the news to Mrs. Birdwistle.

  “One hundred and one guinea pigs minus nineteen that were adopted plus five that were brought back equals eighty-seven guinea pigs,” Stink said. “You have a lot more fur than fangs.”

  Mrs. Birdwistle laughed. “There is some good news, though. I have a friend in Virginia Beach who started a guinea pig rescue. She says she can take about twenty guinea pigs if I can get them to her.”

  “Virginia Beach!” said Stink. “I’ll go!”

  “Aren’t you a little too short to drive?” Mrs. B. asked.

  “But you could drive!” said Stink. “Webster and Sophie and I can find homes for guinea pigs along the way!”

  “Wait just a minute,” said Mrs. B. “You’re saying you want me to drive you and a rattletrap camper full of one hundred and one guinea pigs all the way to Virginia Beach?”

  “Eighty-seven guinea pigs,” said Stink.

  “It’s a great idea!” said Mrs. B.

  On the day of the trip, Mrs. B. handed the kids a map. “Let’s each choose one place to stop where we might be able to find homes for guinea pigs.”

  Mrs. B. pointed to Bull Run Castle. Webster chose the Reston Zoo. Sophie picked the mermaid fountains in Norfolk. And Stink chose Smithfield, home of the World’s Biggest Ham.

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” said Mrs. B., and they all piled into the camper. But Violet didn’t want to stay in her cage. Midnight hid under the seat. And Miss Piggy ate half a bag of chips before they even started.

  It was going to be one wild ride. The kids sang at the top of their lungs.

  “Eighty-seven guinea pigs rolling along,

  Eighty-seven guinea pigs.

  Take some down, pass ’em around,

  Eighty-seven guinea pigs rolling along . . .”

  First stop was Bull Run Castle.

  “It was built to be somebody’s house once,” said Mrs. B. “But now it’s a museum. And people can rent it out for parties and events.”

  “Look!” said Stink. “A bunch of kids dressed up like witches and wizards.”

  Six kids from a Harry Potter party talked their parents into letting them have guinea pigs!

  Next stop, the Reston Zoo.

  At the elephant house, Stink saw the most amazing animal that wasn’t even an elephant. It was the world’s biggest guinea pig!

  “The sign says it’s a capybara,” said Mrs. B. “It comes from South America, just like guinea pigs do, and it’s the world’s largest living rodent. Scientists found a skeleton of one rodent relative that’s eight million years old. The ‘giant rat’ weighed fifteen hundred pounds.”

  “Guinea giganticus!” said Stink, making up a scientific name.

  When they got back to Squeals on Wheels, people were peering through the windows of the camper at all the guinea pigs.

  “Get your cute guinea pigs here,” they announced. In no time, Squeals on Wheels was a little less squeal-y.

  Stink studied the map. “Next stop — World’s Biggest Ham!”

  After crossing over the James River Bridge, they pulled into Smithfield, Virginia — Pig City, USA.

  “There it is!” said Stink. “The museum with the pet ham.”

  Inside the museum, displayed in a glass case, was a small, wrinkly lump covered in green mold.

  “Gross!” said Sophie. “It looks like a shrunken head.”

  “Double gross!” said Webster. “It looks like a giant turd. Maybe we came to the World’s Biggest Turd Museum by mistake.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Stink. “The sign says it’s more than one hundred years old. See? Oh, I get it now. It’s the world’s oldest ham, not biggest.”

  “Does the sign say it’s super-disgusting?” said Webster.

  A half hour later, they left the ham museum.

  “We didn’t even adopt out one single guinea pig,” said Sophie.

  “Yeah, ’cause in this town they all like ham-sters,” Stink said.

  Over bridges, across rivers, and through a dark tunnel they drove until Mrs. B. pulled up to a big fountain in the middle of Norfolk. They let Izzy, Scarlett O’Hairy, Harry, Captain Jack, Hopscotch, Piggy Wiggy, Wrinkles, Pumpkin, Mimi, and Mr. Nibbles wade in the fountain. Astro, too.

  “Super-suds city!” screeched Webster. “Somebody must have put soap in the fountain.”

  “Hey, let’s give the guinea pigs a bubble bath!” said Sophie.

  Webster and Stink and Sophie washed and dried and fluffed the eleven guinea pigs.

  “Get your squeaky-clean guinea pigs here,” they yelled, and ten more of the world’s cleanest guinea pigs left for new homes.

  “Fifty-nine guinea pigs

  rolling along . . .”

  Another seventeen miles down the road, at last they hit Virginia Beach! A big green sign said:

  “What’s Mt. Trashmore? Is it really a mountain?” asked Webster.

  “Is it a park?” asked Sophie.

  “Is it really made of trash?” Stink slid open the window and sniffed.

  “Mt. Trashmore used to be a huge garbage dump,” said Mrs. B. “But then they covered it up with layers of soil, turning it into a kind of big hill or mountain. And now it’s a park.”

  “Whoa,” said Stink. “A giant trash sandwich.”

  At Mt. Trashmore, kids and families were fishing, feeding ducks, flying kites, skateboarding, and racing remote-controlled boats off the pier.

  They found homes for fourteen guinea pigs at Mt. Trashmore alone.

  Virginia Beach was
pig heaven. Guinea pig heaven, that is. People went gaga for guinea pigs in this town.

  At the Beatles Museum, they gave away John, Paul, George, and Ringo. At Ocean Breeze Water Park, they gave away zero. But they got to see a giant gorilla named Hugh Mongous. At the amusement park they gave away eight more. Plus, one lady adopted ten because she kept falling in love with one, and then another, and then another.

  “Virginia Beach rocks,” Webster said.

  “Operation Guinea Pig rocks!” said Stink.

  “Time to get back to Squeals on Wheels,” said Mrs. Birdwistle. “Next stop, my friend Daisy’s house.”

  But when they got to the camper, something was not right. The horn was honking. The radio was blasting. The windshield wipers were wiping.

  Great balls of fur! Twenty-three guinea pigs were on the loose. Those hair balls were having one big piggy party. “Hurry, Mrs. B.! Guinea pigs are going bonkers in there!”

  “Holey tamoley!” screeched Webster when he saw Mrs. B.’s coffee thermos knocked over. “The guinea pigs drank your coffee!”

  Hyperdrive! The Guinea Pig Express had turned into the Guinea Pig Espresso. Guinea pigs were here, there, and everywhere, poking out of every box, bag, backpack, cupboard, and cubbyhole.

  Guinea pigs ran races around the camper. Guinea pigs spun circles on the counters. Guinea pigs slipped and slid into the empty sink. Curly Sue went snooping in the closet!

  All three kids chased after the squirming fur balls and put them back in their cages.

  After they finished cleaning up the mess, Mrs. B. said, “Phew! Last stop — my friend Daisy’s house!”

  On the way to the rescue, Astro poked his head out of Stink’s backpack. “This is it, boy,” said Stink, rubbing noses with his favorite fur ball. “I’m going to miss you, boy.”

  Mrs. Birdwistle’s friend, Daisy, met them at the front door. “Aren’t they adorable?” she cooed.