Gerbil on a Mission

by Michael Delaney

  Obi turned and began to make her way back up the secret passageway. She didn’t walk. She ran. When she got to the hole to Rachel’s bedroom, Obi kept right on running. She passed that hole, then the little hole that led into Craig’s bedroom, then the little hole that led into the twins’ bedroom, then the little hole that led into Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong’s bedroom. Obi followed the secret passageway all the way up, past the ancient mice drawings that lined the secret passageway walls near the attic, to the cluttered attic itself, where Mr. Durkins, the Darth Vader of the Armstrong house, lived.

  Chapter Twelve The Broken Screen Door

  The secret passageway brought Obi out into the darkened attic, behind a toppled-over black ski boot. Obi stood beside the ski boot and glanced about, looking for Mr. Durkins. She didn’t see him anywhere amidst all the clutter.

  But then she heard what sounded like someone munching. It was coming from inside the ski boot that was beside her! Obi peered into the mouth of the boot. In the smudgy gray light, she saw the back of the stoop-shouldered, elderly, small mouse. He was gnawing on a heavy woolen sock that was stuffed inside the ski boot.

  “Mr. Durkins?”

  The old mouse turned and peered at Obi. He had a string of yarn dangling from his mouth. “Well, it’s about time, kid,” he muttered.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m chewing a hole in Mr. Armstrong’s ski sock.”

  “Should you be doing that?” asked Obi. “I mean, isn’t that going to make Mr. Armstrong mad?”

  “I sure hope so!” said Mr. Durkins.

  Obi knew Mr. Durkins did not like the Armstrongs, particularly Mr. Armstrong. Still, it always gave her a chill whenever the old mouse revealed just how much he loathed the Armstrongs.

  Obi stepped aside so Mr. Durkins could emerge from the ski boot. “I’ve been expecting you,” he said.

  Startled, Obi blinked at the old mouse. “You have?”

  “Should we start?”

  “Start? Start what?” asked Obi.

  “Start getting rid of Junior, of course!”

  “Oh! Well, I don’t know that I really want to get rid of him,” said Obi. “All I really want is for Rachel to love me again.”

  Mr. Durkins’s face hardened. “Love! What do you know about love? Humans can’t love rodents!”

  Obi was about to protest, but one look at Mr. Durkins’s narrowed, beady eyes told her to keep quiet. There was no way she’d ever change his mind on this topic.

  Just then, from over by the small attic window that was caked with dust, there was a scratching sound. Obi and Mr. Durkins both turned simultaneously to see what it was.

  It was that crazy squirrel, the one who thought Obi was a criminal because she lived in a cage, which the squirrel was convinced was a jail. The squirrel was outside the window, spying on them.

  The moment the squirrel saw that he’d been spotted, his eyes widened with fear. A second later, he had vanished from the window.

  Mr. Durkins mumbled something not terribly complimentary under his breath about squirrels. Then, in a gruff voice, he said to Obi, “Come on! Follow me!” He hobbled into the entrance of the secret passageway.

  “Where are we going?” asked Obi as she hurried to keep up with Mr. Durkins. For an old, crippled mouse, he certainly hobbled fast!

  “To the kitchen!”

  “Why are we going there?”

  “Because that’s where we need to go to solve your Junior problem.”

  “Oh! Okay!” said Obi. She had no idea what Mr. Durkins was up to, but she followed him just the same.

  The secret passageway led past a series of primitive, stick-figure crayon drawings that showed mice being attacked by humans with brooms. Obi, who’d passed the drawings on her way up to the attic, marveled, as she always did, at how well drawn they were.

  “Gosh, these drawings are so amazing!” she said.

  “They were made by amazing mice,” replied Mr. Durkins.

  “They sure were good drawers,” said Obi. “You know who else is a good drawer? Rachel. You should see the drawings she brings home from school. Once she brought home a drawing of—”

  Obi, who had been about to say “me,” stopped what she was saying. She also stopped walking. That was because Mr. Durkins had stopped. He stared at her with a pinched, annoyed look on his old face. Clearly, the mouse did not care to hear about Rachel’s drawing ability.

  “Never mind,” said Obi.

  Mr. Durkins continued walking and continued with his story. “When the Armstrongs moved into this house, everything changed. It wasn’t long before Mr. Armstrong put out mousetraps. When they didn’t work, the Armstrongs got those three cats. Then one day my family mysteriously disappeared. Just like that, they vanished. I was up in the attic and didn’t see what happened, but it must’ve been a horrible, bloody massacre. But don’t worry, kid,” said Mr. Durkins. “I’m getting my revenge! I’m getting even with those Armstrongs! All six of them! I’ve got something big planned! Really big!”

  Obi didn’t want to hear what Mr. Durkins had planned. As far as she was concerned, the less she knew about Mr. Durkins’s sinister plans, the better.

  Mr. Durkins stopped in front of a small hole that had bright sunshine peeping through it.

  “Here we are,” he announced.

  Obi stepped beside Mr. Durkins and peeked out of the little hole. She had a great view of the sun-drenched kitchen. Nobody was there, not even the cats.

  “Everyone is in the TV room,” said Mr. Durkins. “They’re all watching that movie. Even the cats.”

  Obi was shocked. They hadn’t stopped at the hole to the TV room. How did Mr. Durkins know all this? She pulled her head out from the hole and stared at the old mouse. “How do you know all this?” she asked.

  “I know everything that happens in this house,” said Mr. Durkins. “Nothing escapes me!”

  It really creeped Obi out that Mr. Durkins always seemed to know everything that was going on in the Armstrongs’ house, at any time.

  “So what’s the plan?” Obi asked.

  “See that screen door?” said Mr. Durkins. He pointed to the blue screen door that led out to the backyard.

  “What about it?”

  “Well, it’s broken.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I broke it.”

  “You did? Why?”

  “To annoy Mr. Armstrong.”

  Obi should have guessed as much. “How did you break it?”

  “Look, kid, you’re on a need-to-know basis, okay?”

  “Okay, okay!” replied Obi.

  “So here’s what we’re going to do,” said Mr. Durkins. “You’re going to—”

  “Did you do something to the hinges?”

  The old mouse didn’t answer. He just looked annoyed.

  “Sorry,” said Obi. “You were saying?”

  “You’re going to lead Jun—”

  “But did you do something to the hinges?” Obi couldn’t help asking.

  The old mouse let out an exasperated sigh. “I used my teeth to make it so that the latch won’t catch.”

  “So what does that mean?” asked Obi.

  “It means the screen door won’t stay shut,” explained Mr. Durkins. “It means it’ll open with just a little push.”

  “How long has it been broken?”

  “Weeks,” replied Mr. Durkins. “Mrs. Armstrong keeps asking Mr. Armstrong to fix it. He keeps saying he will, but he hasn’t, the lazy bum!”

  “So what are we going to do?” asked Obi.

  “You’re going to bring Junior to the screen door.”

  “How am I going to do that?”

  “You’re going to tell Junior you’re going to throw him a ball.”

  “How did you know Junior—I mean, Kenobi—likes chasing balls?”

  “I told you,” said Mr. Durkins, “I know everything that happens in this house.”

  “So what happen
s when I bring him to the screen door?”

  “You’ll tell him you forgot the ball,” replied Mr. Durkins. “You’ll tell him to go outside and wait for you. You’ll tell him that you’ll be out in just a minute.”

  “Then what?” asked Obi. “I don’t have to go outdoors, do I? Because to be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Durkins, I’m not too keen about going out of the house. I mean, I’m fine about being out of my cage in the house, but outside the house is an entirely different story. I’m really an indoors pet, not an out—”

  Obi saw how irritated Mr. Durkins looked and abruptly shut up.

  “You’ll stay indoors,” said Mr. Durkins. “Only Junior will go outdoors.”

  “Oh, okay!” said Obi.

  “When Rachel finds he’s outside the house, she’ll be just furious with him,” said Mr. Durkins.

  “She will be just furious with him,” said Obi. “You should’ve seen how mad she got when she found me out of my cage. She thought the twins had let me out.”

  “Now, if you hurry,” said Mr. Durkins, “you’ll find that Junior has just lost interest in hanging out in the TV room. He’s out in the front hallway this very moment, chewing on his bone.”

  “How do you know this?” asked Obi, amazed. What did Mr. Durkins have? Surveillance cameras all throughout the house?

  The old mouse gave Obi a how-do-you-think-I-know-this? look.

  “Sorry, I forgot,” said Obi. “You know everything that happens in this house.”

  “So? What are you waiting for, kid? Get moving!”

  “Oh, yeah, right!” said Obi. She slipped out through the little hole and into the kitchen and raced out into the front hallway. Sure enough, there was Kenobi, chewing on his rawhide bone.

  Kenobi appeared surprised to see Obi. “Obi? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to throw you a ball,” replied Obi.

  Kenobi’s face lit up with excitement. “You are?” he cried. “Throw me a ball! Throw me a ball!”

  “Let’s do it outside,” said Obi.

  “Yeah! Let’s do it outside!” cried Kenobi.

  “We can get out of the house through the screen door in the kitchen,” said Obi. As she turned to go into the kitchen, Kenobi barreled past her, knocking her over.

  When Obi entered the kitchen, Kenobi was already at the blue screen door, waiting to go outside. “Hurry up, Obi!”

  “Oh, wait!” exclaimed Obi. She stopped as if she had suddenly remembered something. “Gosh darn it all! I forgot the ball! Look, Kenobi, you go outside and wait for me. I’ll be out in just a second with the ball. Okay?”

  “Okay!” He went to leave, then realized that the screen door was closed. “Wait! How do I get out?”

  “Just push the screen door.”

  “Yeah? Really? That’s all I have to do? Who knew?”

  And with that, Kenobi pushed the screen door open with his front paw and dashed outside. The screen door slapped closed behind him.

  Obi didn’t know why, exactly, but she did not have a good feeling about what she had just done. She was about to turn to go back into the secret passageway when, behind her, she heard a voice say:

  “Nice!”

  Obi let out a frightened gasp and swung around. Sweetie Smoochkins, the black-and-white cat, stood a mere few inches away, peering at Obi with big, gleaming eyes and a perfectly delighted grin on her face.

  Chapter Thirteen Immunity

  Fuzzball,” said the cat. “You are my hero!”

  Obi stared at Sweetie Smoochkins. She was shocked. She was sure she had misheard the cat. Or was this a joke? “Is this a joke?” asked Obi.

  “No joke,” said Sweetie Smoochkins, smiling. “You, my dear Fuzzball, have done all of us cats a huge favor.”

  “I have?”

  “You have! You’ve ditched that drippy puppy. On behalf of myself, Sugar Smacks, and Honey Buns, thank you, Fuzzball!”

  “Oh! Well, you’re welcome!”

  The smile faded from Sweetie Smoochkins’s face. The cat frowned and let out a deep, troubled sigh.

  “This is a difficult situation, though, isn’t it?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, here you are, a totally unprotected gerbil, and here am I, a hungry cat with strong, carnivorous cravings that a cat gets whenever she spies a small, desirable prey.”

  “Oh. I see what you mean,” said Obi. She noticed that the cat’s tail was doing that awful swirling and swishing thing it always did whenever she eyed Obi in a craving sort of way.

  “What do you think we should do about it?” asked Sweetie Smoochkins.

  “I’m not really sure,” confessed Obi.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” said the cat. “Although it goes against my better judgment and it certainly goes against my cat instincts, I’m going to grant you immunity.”

  “Immunity?” said Obi, frowning. “What’s that?” It wasn’t a word she was familiar with.

  The cat looked incredulous. “Where have you been, Fuzzball? Don’t you watch any reality TV shows?”

  “No,” replied Obi. Which was the truth. She’d seen plenty of movies with Rachel, but no reality TV shows. Obi did not even know what a reality TV show was.

  “Obi, Obi, Obi!” sighed the cat. “You need to get out more often!”

  “So what’s this immunity thing?” asked Obi.

  “It means you’ve done a magnificent thing that keeps you from being kicked off the TV show.”

  “Oh! But we’re not on a TV show.”

  “That’s true, we’re not,” agreed the cat. “So in this case, I guess it means you can’t be harmed. In other words, I can’t touch you, Fuzzball. I’m giving you immunity from being eaten up by me.”

  “Oh! Well! That’s very nice of you!” said Obi.

  “Yes, it is,” agreed Sweetie Smoochkins.

  “I like having immunity,” said Obi. “How long does it last?”

  “Until the next show—or, in your case, until the next time I see you.”

  Obi was sorry to hear it didn’t last longer. “Well, thank you for giving me immunity.”

  “Thank you for taking care of Kenobi.”

  “Well, I guess I should be going,” said Obi. She waved goodbye to the cat and then started across the kitchen floor toward the little hole that led into the secret passageway.

  “Where you going, Fuzzball?”

  Obi stopped and peered at the cat. Sweetie Smoochkins was staring at the gerbil with a puzzled frown. It was then that Obi realized that she was heading toward the secret passageway. None of the cats knew about the secret passageway. Thank goodness Sweetie Smoochkins had said something—otherwise Obi would have given away the secret passageway.

  “The front hallway is that way,” said Sweetie Smoochkins, gesturing toward the doorway to the front hallway.

  “Oh! Why, yes! Of course it is!” exclaimed Obi. “Silly me! See that? I’m just so happy to have immunity, I wasn’t thinking!”

  Obi quickly trotted past the cat and went out into the front hallway. After making sure Sweetie Smoochkins was no longer watching her, Obi slipped beneath the grandfather clock and into the little hole that led into the secret passageway. Less than a minute later, Obi was back in her cage, with her cage door closed.

  The first thing Obi did when she was back in her cage was to look out Rachel’s bedroom window to see if she could see Kenobi out on the lawn. She was hoping to see the little puppy sitting on the grass, patiently waiting for Obi to come out of the house with a ball. But he wasn’t. Obi felt a queasy sensation in her stomach. She was feeling worse and worse about what she had done.

  As Obi looked for Kenobi, she spotted that daffy squirrel who had a nest in the upper branches of the Norway maple in the Armstrongs’ lawn. The squirrel was in the maple tree, leaping from branch to branch, doing his amazing acrobat act.

  Obi heard Rachel’s voice call out from down stairs:

  “Kenobi? Where are you, Kenobi? Come o
ut, come out wherever you are!”

  Her voice sounded unconcerned, like a girl curious to find out where her dog had disappeared to. Obi heard Rachel’s footsteps coming up the stairs. She entered the bedroom, stopped, and glanced about the room.

  “You in here, Kenobi?” asked Rachel. Her eyes fell upon Obi in her bedroom tower. “Hey, Obe, you haven’t seen Kenobi, have you?”

  Obe! Rachel had called Obi Obe! That was the affectionate, loving nickname Rachel called Obi. If only Rachel knew the evil thing that Obi had done to Kenobi, she wouldn’t be calling her Obe.

  Rachel left the bedroom and went back downstairs. “Hey, Mom, have you seen Kenobi?” Obi heard Rachel ask her mother.

  “He’s not up in your bedroom?” Mrs. Armstrong’s voice replied.

  “No. I can’t find him anywhere.” For the first time, Obi thought she detected a trace of worry in Rachel’s voice.

  “He’s got to be somewhere,” said Mrs. Armstrong. “Unless … oh, no!”

  “What?”

  “The screen door is open!”

  “Kenobi went outside?!” shrieked Rachel in alarm. “He’s only a puppy. He’ll run off!” There was no mis taking the alarm in Rachel’s voice now.

  Obi heard the screen door in the kitchen bang shut. She spun around and peered out Rachel’s bedroom window. Down on the lawn below, she saw Rachel and her mother hurry out of the house.

  “Kenobiiii! Kenobiiii!” Rachel called out.

  “Kenobiiii! Come, Kenobiiii!” shouted Mrs. Armstrong.

  But Kenobi did not come. Rachel and her mother disappeared from Obi’s view as they circled around the house. Obi could still hear them, though, yelling, “Kenobi! Come, Kenobi!”

  From inside the house, the twins, Betsy and Susie, must have heard Rachel and Mrs. Armstrong yelling for Kenobi, for they, too, came outside to help look for the dog. To Obi’s amazement, even Craig came out to look.