“There, you’d never know Kenobi had had an accident,” said Mrs. Armstrong, pleased, when they had finished.
Rachel gestured at Kenobi. “Ohhh, look at the poor little thing,” she said to her mother.
Still cowering in the corner, Kenobi had the saddest, most pathetic look in his big, moist eyes.
“Oh, poor Kenobi!” said Mrs. Armstrong, her voice all tender.
Rachel reached over and pulled the puppy onto her lap. “It’s okay, Kenobi!” she said in a soothing voice as she cradled the puppy in her arms. “Just don’t go to the bathroom anymore on Mommy’s carpet, okay?”
Obi was incredulous. That was it?! That was the extent of Kenobi’s punishment?! No stern words, no disapproving scowl?! What was it with this puppy? How was he able to melt Rachel’s and Mrs. Armstrong’s hearts? So far as Obi knew, no other pet in the Armstrong household had this magical charm on humans.
“Not what you were expecting, was it, kid?” a voice behind Obi said.
Startled, Obi swung around. Mr. Durkins, the old, crippled mouse, stood a few inches away, leaning against the side of the dresser. He was eyeing the gerbil with a cold, stern look in his beady eyes.
“Oh! Hawo, Mr. Durkins!” said Obi. “I didn’t know you were there!” The problem with Mr. Durkins was, Obi never knew where he was! The old mouse was always slinking about in the shadows and sneaking up on you. It was very unsettling.
“Well, was it?” the old mouse demanded.
“Was it what?”
“Was it what you were expecting?”
Obi pretended she didn’t know what Mr. Durkins was talking about. “I wasn’t expecting anything.”
“Sure, if you say so,” replied Mr. Durkins, like he didn’t believe Obi. Then the old mouse said, “I don’t like him!”
“You don’t like who?” asked Obi.
Mr. Durkins pointed at Kenobi. “Junior! But don’t worry, kid. I know how to deal with him!”
There was something sinister in the way Mr. Durkins said this. It made Obi very uncomfortable. But it also made her very curious. “How do you deal with him?”
“The same way I deal with Mr. Armstrong. I’ll drive him bananas.” The old mouse chuckled as he fiendishly rubbed his front paws together.
“How do you intend to do that?”
“I’ll let Junior see me for a split second, then, just like that, I’ll vanish. I’ve already started on him.”
Obi remembered how Kenobi thought he had seen something by the bookcase. “That was you by the bookcase, wasn’t it?”
“Yup, that was me, all right!”
Obi decided she really didn’t want to talk with Mr. Durkins any longer. He was too evil. “Well, Mr. Durkins,” she said, “I should get back to my cage before Rachel notices I’m gone.”
Obi took hold of the lamp cord in her front paws and began to climb.
“Hey, kid, when you need help getting rid of Junior, you know where to find me.”
Obi pretended she hadn’t heard the old mouse. She just kept pulling herself up the lamp cord. But as she climbed, she thought about what Mr. Durkins had said and how odd it was that he had used the word “when” instead of “if.” “If you need help” sounded like things would work out, but “when you need help” sounded like they wouldn’t. And what was with this “get rid of” business? What kind of gerbil did Mr. Durkins think Obi was? Obi realized she needed to set Mr. Durkins straight. She peered down to address him, but the old mouse had vanished!
Chapter Seven A Startling Revelation
As Obi pulled herself up onto Rachel’s dresser, she glanced over at Rachel and Mrs. Armstrong. The two of them were seated on the floor, with Kenobi in Rachel’s lap. Mrs. Armstrong and Rachel were so focused on Kenobi and giving him such lavish attention, they didn’t even notice Obi.
Crouching low, Obi crept across the top of the dresser, past Rachel’s upturned hairbrush, past the yogurt puffball that she was giving to Rachel for her birthday, to her cage. The square cage door was slightly ajar, which was how Obi had left it. Standing up on her hind legs, Obi pushed open the door and then hoisted herself up into the opening. As she plopped softly down onto the cedar shavings that carpeted the floor of her cage, Obi used the end of her tail to close the cage door. It made a sharp click! sound. Obi spun about, terrified that Rachel and Mrs. Armstrong had heard the noise. But they hadn’t. How could they? They were too enamored with Kenobi to notice anything else. Rachel had a big smile on her face as she rubbed Kenobi’s tummy. The puppy lay on his back, with his front paws curled in the air. He had a glazed look in his eyes and the goofiest grin on his face, loving every second of having his tummy rubbed.
Obi’s eyes brimmed with tears. She felt a lump in her throat. It was very painful to see Kenobi getting so much love and attention.
After a while, Mrs. Armstrong got up and left the room. Then Rachel climbed to her feet and said, “Look what I got for you, Kenobi.” She dug into a front pocket of her shorts and pulled out a small dog biscuit.
Kenobi, wagging his tail, jumped up onto Rachel’s legs to try and snatch the dog biscuit in his mouth.
“Not so fast, you!” said Rachel, holding the little biscuit just out of the dog’s reach. “You have to learn a trick first. If you do the trick correctly, you’ll get a dog biscuit, okay?” Rachel went over to her book case and took down a yellow tennis ball that she kept on one of the upper shelves. She gave the ball a little underhand toss.
“Go get it!” she said to Kenobi as the ball bounced across the carpet.
Kenobi, barking, shot off after the ball. He grabbed it in his mouth and brought it back to Rachel.
“Good boy!” cried Rachel, pleased. “Now drop it!”
But Kenobi wouldn’t drop the ball. Rachel had to yank it out of his mouth. Rachel tried several more times to teach Kenobi how to drop the ball, but without success. Finally, she gave up. Then, to Obi’s shock, Rachel gave Kenobi the dog biscuit!
Obi didn’t get it. How could Kenobi (a) go to the bathroom on Rachel’s bedroom floor; (b) chew on her slipper; (c) be unable to do a single trick; and then (d) still be rewarded with a dog biscuit? It just didn’t make any sense! If Kenobi had been a human, Obi would swear he was—
Oh, my gosh! thought Obi, horrified, as she made the startling revelation of who in the human world Kenobi was like. He was like Rachel’s older brother, Craig! Craig was a big troublemaker who, so far as Obi could tell, never got into trouble with the Armstrongs. They always forgave Craig when he did bad things, just like Rachel had forgiven Kenobi after he peed on her carpet. Obi groaned to herself. Just what she needed: a puppy version of Craig!
Obi tried not to panic. She tried to stay calm. She tried to tell herself that things would get better. They just had to! Once the novelty of having a puppy wore off, Rachel was bound to grow weary of Kenobi and stop giving him so much love and attention.
Obi’s gaze fell upon Kenobi down on the floor. She noticed he was munching on something. At first, Obi thought it was just another dog biscuit, but then she got a glimpse of the puppy’s mouth—he had something blue on his tongue. It was the same shade of blue as—
Obi glanced at the dresser where she had left the blue yogurt puffball. It was gone! She must have knocked the yogurt puffball off the dresser when she was rushing to return to her cage!
“Oh, no!” cried Obi in dismay. That dunderheaded dog was eating Obi’s birthday present to Rachel!
“Hey!” cried Obi, fuming. “That’s Mom’s birthday present you’re eating, you idiot!”
Obi was seething mad. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. “Things are going to get better,” she murmured. “Things are going to get better.”
Now all she had to do was believe it.
***
In the days that followed, things did not get better, though. Indeed, they got worse! Rachel continued to give Kenobi lots of love and attention.
She also continued to try and teach Kenobi tricks, but he was unable to
learn even one trick. Obi was beginning to think the puppy wasn’t very bright. But he wasn’t all that dumb. Once Kenobi learned that Rachel was unable to resist his cute, sad-eyed puppy dog look, he used that face whenever the girl began to lose her patience with the dog. That look melted Rachel’s heart! It worked every single time!
One morning Obi was in her cage, up in her bedroom tower. She was the only one in Rachel’s bedroom—Rachel and Kenobi had gone outside to play. Peering out the bedroom window, Obi could see the two of them down on the lawn below. Rachel was trying, yet again, to teach Obi how to retrieve a tennis ball and drop it at her feet. Yet again, the dog just wasn’t getting it. Obi sighed. How she missed playing with Rachel! If only there was something she could do to get the girl to do stuff with her again. There had to be something Obi could do to get Rachel to love her again. But what?
She needed advice! Sometimes the best thing to do when you don’t know what to do is to ask someone else what he or she might do. Obi knew just who to ask, too: Mack. Like Kenobi, Mack was a dog. Who better to give advice on what to do about a dog than another dog?
Obi wasted no time. She darted down the tube to her living room. She made a big mound of cedar shavings so it would appear as if she was beneath the mound, sleeping, in case anyone happened to check in on her. Then she pushed open her cage door, slipped out onto the dresser, and slid down the lamp cord to the floor. She didn’t head toward the bedroom doorway that went out into the upstairs hallway, though.
No, Obi headed toward Rachel’s bedroom closet.
Chapter Eight Advice
There were many things about Mr. Durkins that Obi could not stand. He was cynical, opinionated, embittered, condescending, mean-spirited, plus he was filled with loathing for Obi’s adoptive mother and the rest of the Armstrongs.
There was one thing, though, that Obi did like about the old, crippled mouse: he let her use his secret passageway whenever she wished. The secret passageway was an extensive tunnel system that ran all throughout the Armstrongs’ house—behind walls, above ceilings, under floorboards. For a gerbil who wished to venture about the house incognito, the secret passageway was just the thing.
The secret passageway had many entrances and exits, including one in Rachel’s bedroom. It was by the door to her bedroom closet. That was why, when Obi wanted to go downstairs to see Mack, she headed in that direction rather than toward the upstairs hallway. Obi slipped through the small hole by the baseboard and began to make her way through the secret passageway. The tunnel was dark and smelled of dust and old, dry timbers. Obi followed the passageway as it sloped downward. She arrived on the first floor and went straight to the little hole that led out into the TV room.
Obi peeked out of the hole. She was in luck: none of the Armstrongs were in the TV room. Nor were any of the three cats: Sweetie Smoochkins, Sugar Smacks, or Honey Buns. Obi spied Mack on the other side of the room. As usual, the old yellow Lab was lying on his doggy bed, sound asleep and snoring loudly.
Obi stepped out into the TV room and hurried over to Mack.
“Psst, Mack!” she whispered.
Mack didn’t wake. He didn’t even stir.
“Mack, it’s me—Obi! Wake up!”
Mack still did not respond. Obi lifted a front paw and tapped the dog on his moist, black nose. “Psst, Mack! Wake up!”
“Erp! Erp! Wake up, Mack! Wake up!” cried a shrill voice. It was Mr. Smithers, the parrot. Mr. Smithers lived in a cage that hung from the ceiling of the TV room. He, Mack, and the two goldfish, Betsy and Susie, who lived in a fish aquarium by the television set, all hung out in the TV room. The goldfish Betsy and Susie were the pets of the human Betsy and Susie.
Obi swung around and peered up at Mr. Smithers’s cage. The parrot was perched on his trapeze bar.
“Shh, Mr. Smithers, not so loud!” whispered Obi.
“Shh, Mr. Smithers!” cried the parrot. “Not so loud! Erp! Not so loud!”
Obi had no idea what Mr. Smithers’s problem was, but he definitely had one: whatever Obi said, he said—usually more than once! Obi tried to be understanding, since the bird obviously had some sort of defect, but Mr. Smithers sure could be annoying, the way he repeated everything she said.
“Be quiet, Mr. Smithers!” pleaded Obi. She was terrified the cats would hear the parrot and come into the TV room to investigate. She turned to Mack with a look of urgency. “Mack, wake up! I need your advice!”
“Erp! Erp! Mack, wake up! Mack, wake up! Need your advice! Need your advice!”
Obi was about to yell at Mr. Smithers to please, for heaven’s sake, hush up when Mack’s eyes opened. “What kind of advice?” he asked, in a deep, sleepy voice.
“Oh! Hawo, Mack!” exclaimed Obi. “You’re awake!”
“Oh, hawo, Mack! Oh, hawo, Mack! You’re awake! You’re awake!”
Ignoring Mr. Smithers, Obi said, “I need to ask you about Kenobi.”
Mack yawned. “What about him?”
“Well, Rachel is giving him the Special Pet Treatment and—”
Mack sat up, suddenly wide awake. “She’s giving him the Special Pet Treatment? Like what kind of Special Pet Treatment?”
“Well, like they’re outside right now throwing a tennis ball around.”
Mack appeared stunned. “They—they are?”
“Rachel has forgotten all about me, Mack,” continued Obi. “I don’t know what to do! I’m hoping you can offer me advice. Since you’re a dog and all, I thought you might be able to help.”
“Erp! Erp! Help! Help!” cried Mr. Smithers.
Mack looked crushed, crestfallen. “They’re—they’re throwing a tennis ball around?”
Obi nodded and said, “Yeah. So, anyway, I need your advice, Mack. Do you have any suggestions on what I can do to get Rachel to do stuff with me again?”
“I can’t believe they’re throwing a tennis ball around!” wailed Mack. “Nobody ever throws a tennis ball to me! I love chasing tennis balls!”
“Love chasing tennis balls! Love chasing tennis balls!” echoed Mr. Smithers.
Obi was rapidly losing her patience both with Mr. Smithers and Mack. For goodness’ sake, this was about her, not Mack! She was the one who was being ignored by Rachel! Still, Obi couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Mack. He was so old, he probably didn’t get much in the way of the Special Pet Treatment by any of the Armstrongs.
“Well, well, well!” said a sly voice from behind Obi. “Look who’s out of her cage!”
Obi knew this voice all too well. It belonged to the tiger cat, Sugar Smacks. The cat had just walked in from the dining room.
“Oh! Hawo, Sugar Smacks!” said Obi, turning to the cat. “How are you today?”
“Oh, hawo! Oh, hawo!” said Mr. Smithers. “Erp! Erp! How are you today? How are you today?”
“Oh, I’m just dandy,” said Sugar Smacks, grinning at Obi. “How could I not be? I’ve just stumbled upon a little gerbil out of her cage!”
“Oh, gosh! I am out of my cage, aren’t I?” exclaimed Obi, pretending that this was a big surprise to her. “I’d better get back to my cage!”
Sugar Smacks smiled at Obi and said, “Nice try!” Then she asked a rather odd question: “I’m a nice cat, aren’t I, Obi?”
The gerbil shrugged. “I guess so. I mean, for a cat.”
“Mrs. Armstrong thinks I’m a nice cat,” said Sugar Smacks. “And do you know why?”
Obi shook her head. “No, why?”
“Because I’m nice and soft and I cuddle up on her lap and purr. Do you know why Mr. Armstrong thinks I’m a nice cat?”
Obi shook her head again.
“Because, in addition to being so cuddly, soft, and purry, I get rid of mice.”
“Oh!” said Obi.
“It never ceases to amaze me, Obi, how much you look like a mouse!” continued the cat.
Obi now understood why Sugar Smacks had asked such a weird question. “That may be,” said Obi, “but I’m not a mouse. I’m a gerbil.”
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“Yes, but a cat could always make a mistake, couldn’t she?” said Sugar Smacks. “For instance, I could easily see myself mistaking you for a mouse and eating you. When I realized to my horror that it was you, well, it would be too late.”
The cat’s words sent a chill down Obi’s spine. Obi was wondering how she was ever going to get out of this mess when, suddenly, she heard another cat’s voice say:
“Is that Obi!?”
It was the honey-colored cat, Honey Buns. She had just walked in from the front hallway.
“Oh! Hawo, Honey Buns!” said Obi.
Then who should walk into the room just behind Honey Buns but Sweetie Smoochkins, the black-and-white cat.
“Fuzzball?!” she cried, surprised, staring at Obi.
Obi gave the cat a little wave. “Hawo, Sweetie Smoochkins.”
Obi was absolutely terrified. How could she not be? Not only was she out of her cage, but she was surrounded by three cats—three hostile cats who hated Obi and wanted to eat her. But Obi was a gerbil who was in desperate need of advice on what to do about Kenobi. Could one of the cats offer any good advice? Well, there was only one way to find out.
“By any chance,” Obi said, “do any of you cats know what I should do about Kenobi? That puppy is driving me crazy!”
Sweetie Smoochkins made a pained face. “You, too, huh?”
“That puppy is a nightmare!” groaned Honey Buns.
“Tell me about it!” said Sugar Smacks. “Do you know what he did yesterday? He chewed up my little rubber mouse! I loved that little rubber mouse! It was my favorite toy!”
“That’s nothing!” said Sweetie Smoochkins. “He chased me all around the kitchen this morning! I thought my poor heart would never calm down!”
“I’d rather be chased around the kitchen than have him eat out of my bowl,” said Honey Buns.
The other two cats stared at Honey Buns in horror. Even Obi cringed at the thought of a dog eating out of her bowl. “He ate out of your bowl?” cried Sweetie Smoochkins, aghast.
Gerbil on a Mission Page 3