The Big Cheese launched into another series of gestures, as Trey continued his translation. “We are sorry we couldn’t tell you before, but we were worried about your propensity to tell the truth at all times. To call a spade a spade. We arranged your job at Camp Green Stars partly for the benefit to the planet, of course, but also to test your ability to keep secrets. And our reports have been most reassuring.”
“Wait,” said Susie. “Wait, wait, wait. Slo-o-o-w down. Slow w-a-a-y down. You arranged my job there?”
“Madam,” said the Big Cheese, “that’s what we do. We arrange things. We manipulate humans. In your case, we persuaded a foundation to set up Camp Green Stars and to employ you to instruct the campers. Of course, the foundation people think they got the idea on their own, without help from anyone, and that it was just by chance that your resume came to their attention.”
“I never sent them a resume!”
“Why should you? The one we sent in your name was more than adequate.”
Megan’s mom was silent for a minute, then she said in a small voice, “And you were spying on me there?”
“Of course. How else would we know that you were indeed totally discreet with the secrets of your famous students? That on occasion you even managed to tell ‘white lies’ to soothe their feelings?”
“I did, didn’t I?” said Susie, with a smile. Then she sank back onto the bank with an “Aaargh” sound, her hands over her face.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “That note I found on my foot at Green Stars?”
“Mice,” said the Big Cheese.
“And that stuff on my bed about where to find Megan?”
“Mice, of course,” said the Big Cheese. “And all thanks to one heroic mouse who risked life and limb to give the alarm.”
He turned to Savannah, who was still stretched out on Jake’s hand. “Talking Mouse Seven, I hereby pronounce you to be Mouse Hero First Class, and I would be delighted if you would do me the honor of riding with me.”
“How about that?” said Savannah weakly.
Megan lifted the floppy little body into the cage, where Savannah made her wobbly way to the water bottle and drank deeply before lying down.
There was a skeetering above them on the bluff, and Joey came into sight between the young trees, swinging his way down confidently.
“Yo, Joey!” said his dad. “Meet the fifth Human Who Knows.”
“Oh wow,” he said.
Megan’s mom stood up, smiling, and held out her arms to Joey, who seemed happy to return her hug.
“That’s so great,” he said. “Fred hoped that was happening. He sent me to tell you that your movie stars are almost ready.”
He noticed the cage, and the patch of mouse under a pink bow.
“Savannah!” he exclaimed. “Is she dead?”
“Not at all,” said Trey. “In fact she’s so…she’s so brave. She’s the one who gave the alarm.”
Joey reached in between the bars to tickle Savannah behind the ears, close enough to hear her softly singing: “‘It’s a lovely day today. So whatever you’ve got to do…’”
Joey grinned. “This mouse is so…” he began, and grinned at Megan, who looked appalled at what dumb joke might come out next. “So-o-o musical.”
his time the Prius could drive up to the main entrance of the lodge to disgorge its four humans and the cage that was now bulging with mice, as Curly, Larry, and Julia had all squashed into it with the Big Cheese and Savannah.
In the big old dining room, everything was ready. The audience was waiting on chairs that had been lined up in three rows. Most of them looked completely starstruck, gazing up at Biff, Nick, Rocky, and Daisy as if they’d never seen humans so perfect, except in the movies. Only Jim-Bob sat in a pose of total surrender.
Uncle Fred looked up from the WATCH computer that would throw the PowerPoint presentation against the wall.
“Almost ready!” he sang out as Megan ran to give him one of those whisper-hugs that the four Humans Who Knew had perfected.
“Mom knows,” she whispered.
That prompted Uncle Fred to do one of his slow, elephantine pirouettes, then (because the news was so good) to add an extra one, which was a bit too much for his massive frame and almost spun him into the first row of the audience.
“Clowns!” muttered Jim-Bob, holding up his arms to fend off the gyrating uncle. “Is this how you show respect for us and our opinions?”
“We have plenty of respect for your opinions,” said Megan’s mom. “You are, of course, entitled to hold any opinion you choose. However, you are not entitled to your own facts, so I beg you to please pay attention to the information that my students are about to give you.”
She waved to Rocky to start the presentation, beginning with the agenda:
1. What We Know About Greenhouse Gases (Rocky)
2. The Last Fifty Years (Nick)
3. How Climate Change Will Hurt Animals (Daisy)
4. How We Can Save the Planet (Biff)
5. Questions
And it was awesome.
Megan kept sneaking glances at her mom, who was beaming with pride as her students sliced and diced all the “facts” that the WATCH guys claimed to believe, and replaced them with real ones. They showed how climate change had happened in the past naturally, then made it crystal clear that humans were now warming up their planet much faster than was natural—already causing problems like the torrential rains and fierce storms that tend to happen when the air and the oceans warm up.
Daisy Dakota described how several species of animals were already trying to move to cooler territory, or were going hungry because the changing climate had messed with their food supply.
Then came Biff with his message of hope. That humans can stop the damage, starting right now. And here’s how to do it, with new ways of making electricity, and better buildings and cars, and more careful recycling of the planet’s resources.
When Biff had finished, it was time for questions.
There was silence. No questions. Susie Miller walked to the front of the room and put her arms around the nearest stars.
“Let’s take a vote,” she said. “You gentlemen—and ladies—will please decide on a grade for my students here. If you think they were lying to you, if you think they made it all up, give them an F. If they’ve convinced you that the climate is changing, and that humans are causing it, and we should all do what we can to prevent it, give them an A.”
More silence, and Megan noticed that everyone in the audience was looking at Jim-Bob for a lead.
“Would you rather give us the grades in confidence?” asked her mom. “Write them down?”
“There’s no need,” said Jim-Bob. He looked around at his followers. “They get an A.”
“But, boss,” said Greasy-hair, “you told us people like these Hollywood pinkos are just out to ruin our country! That’s what you said.”
“Yeah,” said Baldy. “And you told us that scientists said all that global warming stuff was garbage.”
“Well, maybe they weren’t the right sort of scientists,” said Jim-Bob.
“You mean, all this time…?” said Baldy.
His voice trailed off. More silence. Then Danny spoke.
“What about the animals, Uncle Jim-Bob?” he asked. “Is it true what she said about those animals?”
“It’s true, Danny,” said Jim-Bob. “It’s all true. It may surprise you to learn,” he said, directing his attention to Megan’s mom, “I’ve known the truth for a while now. That your side is right.”
“Then why…?” Susie began.
“Why did I keep up with our Web site and all that? I hate to say this, but I did it for the money. And the reason I wanted that information from Savannah here was to get at the big pot of money that’s out there. The reward.”
“What about us?” asked one of the women. “How will we survive without that money?”
Jim-Bob put his elbows on his knees, and his face in his ha
nds.
“We’ll come up with something,” he mumbled. “We’ll have to.”
It was Daisy Dakota who had the idea.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “The last couple of days, I’ve been thinking of ways to maybe get more kids involved. Get them working to stop climate change. Hey, Danny?”
She held out an arm toward Danny, and he ran to her.
“Let’s you and me start a campaign,” she said. “A campaign for the animals.”
Megan remembered the task they had set up for the factory workers back in Cleveland.
“Mom, remember that kids’ book you wanted to write, on the climate and animals?” she said. “While we’ve been away, the workers at the factory have been doing some of that research. Sort of as a gift for you.”
“The workers?” asked Susie. “Those workers?”
But Daisy was off and running. “Great!” she said. “But instead of a book, how about something online, sort of like Facebook? We could call it Creaturebook, and every kid could adopt an animal.”
“I love it!” said Megan’s mom. “So they’d learn all about their animal, and find out how it’s affected by climate change. And their animal could be friends with other animals who have the same problem.”
“Whoa!” said Uncle Fred. “Do you know how much computer power that would take? If it gets big?”
Jake laughed. “Sounds like a case for killing two cats with one stone.”
“Huh?” said Uncle Fred. Then, “Oh, I get it. Anyone have some computers lying around that aren’t doing anything?”
“Are you serious?” asked Jim-Bob, gazing up at him. “We have the computers and the servers, but guys to run them… Do they look like computer scientists?”
He waved at his posse of helpers, and it was true that it was easier to imagine them chasing intruders off the mountain than programming computers.
“We can train them,” said Jake. He handed Jim-Bob a Planet Mouse business card. “And of course the ladies in your group too. In our business, we know hundreds of computer scientists, so we can set up video courses to help you.”
“Please say yes, Uncle Jim-Bob,” Danny pleaded. “It would be so cool!”
And so it was agreed: Jim-Bob’s group would run Creaturebook off their servers, and if it grew to the point where it needed more servers, they’d buy them and make the extra electricity they needed with solar panels, right here in the valley.
Daisy herself offered some of the start-up money, and the three action heroes agreed to chip in too, but strictly as a loan. They expected Creaturebook to pay for itself quite soon in ads for green products.
For a moment, everybody—Jim-Bob’s followers, the five Humans Who Knew, and the four movie stars—just looked at each other. Then Jim-Bob walked over to a computer and wrote out an announcement:
ATTENTION, EVERYBODY!
We are winding up the WATCH organization. Why? Because we no longer believe that climate change is a hoax.
The world’s getting hotter, folks, and the evidence is all around us, as all the real climate scientists have been saying for years. From now on, my group will devote itself to an on-line project for children called Creaturebook, with our new friend Daisy Dakota.
Watch this site for more details!
“Maybe you could include a picture of Daisy?” suggested Megan’s mom. “With an animal?”
It took only a minute for Daisy to go online and download two pictures, one with a super-cute kitten and another with a puppy that was not quite so cute. She was a bit surprised when Megan, Joey, Uncle Fred, and Jake all said it had to be the one with the puppy. Wasn’t even close.
he time came for the humans to split up. The movie stars drove the Jeep back to their camp, with promises that Daisy and a couple of her friends would be back the next day to brainstorm some ideas for Creaturebook.
The five Humans Who Knew squashed into the Prius, dropping Uncle Fred off to follow them in the Mousemobile. They picked up some picnic food in the little town of Irving, then headed up the second valley, the one that hid Camp Green Stars.
Megan’s mom knew of a glade beside a creek that was a great place for a picnic. They laid out a blanket where it was shielded by overhead branches from the gaze of hawks so that the six mice who’d been riding in the Prius could come outside without danger.
They were joined by a seventh mouse when Uncle Fred parked the Mousemobile and brought out Sir Quentin, putting him down beside the others.
“He was severely bent out of shape because he missed all the fun at WATCH,” Uncle Fred whispered to Megan. “Though that’s not the way he put it. Something about an egregious dearth of esteem for his person.”
It so happened that Megan’s mom was a huge fan of the English historical dramas that Sir Quentin had watched endlessly at the Talking Academy. Soon, he was deep into memories of favorite episodes. Words like “preternaturally exquisite portrayals” and “ingenious dramaturgy” floated over the picnic site—until Susie’s eyes glazed over, and she started looking around for rescue.
And Jake did indeed rescue her, asking her to help him spread out supplies he had brought out of the Mousemobile.
Joey and Megan were tempted by the creek, its water bubbling by, fast and clear. A little way downstream a tree had fallen across, making a precarious bridge.
“Bet you don’t dare go across on that,” said Joey.
“You’re on,” said Megan, and climbed onto the log. On their side of the creek, the log was broad and dry, but a few feet from the other side the bark had worn off and the log was slippery with spray and moss. Megan ran fast over that section to keep her balance, but lost it anyway, a yard or so from the end, and had to jump onto the far bank. It was quite satisfying to see that when Joey followed, he began to slip even earlier and splashed down in the shallows.
“There must be another way back,” he said, tipping water out of his sneakers. He led the way along the bank until they were opposite the picnic site and could watch the others from the high undergrowth.
Megan’s mom was at the door of the Mousemobile, peering in, as rows of mice stood at the windows, peering out.
“I’d like to get some plates,” she called back over her shoulder to Jake. “But this gas-guzzler of yours is kind of crowded. Maybe they’d all like to come out?”
Jake went over to help, and the watching kids saw him and Megan’s mom join their hands in a sort of ladder so the mice could march down, department by department, looking around in amazement at a world few of them had ever seen. And when the last mouse was out, Jake and Susie went on holding hands for a moment or two longer than they needed, whispering something to each other.
Megan looked at Joey and found that he was looking at her as if he had the same thought but wasn’t ready to put it into words. He turned and ran farther upstream until he found a place where there were just enough rocks for them to cross, so they could get back to the picnic site in time to shred buns into two thousand pieces, more or less.
It was after the picnic that Megan noticed some urgent-looking activity among the mice. First the Big Cheese conferred with some of his directors. Then he summoned Trey and gave him a message for…for her mom? Megan actually felt a little jealous as she watched Trey run over to whisper something in her mom’s ear, something that made her laugh. Was her mom now the most important female on the planet? After knowing about mice for only a couple of hours?
The Big Cheese, it seemed, had thought of a climax for this picnic. Not entertainment. Not a performance by the Youth Chorus. Not a mouse skit or anything else that would fit with this marvelous mood. No, as he now announced, he’d decided to use this moment to finish the legal proceedings of yesterday by pronouncing sentences on the two accused.
Megan caught Trey’s eye, and he ran over to her.
“Is he serious?” she whispered.
“Wait,” he said. “You’ll see.”
The Big Cheese climbed onto a small rock where everyone could see him,
and Trey rejoined him to translate.
“Today our nation has made excellent progress,” he said. “But there is one matter that we must put behind us. Yesterday, we held a trial that found two mice guilty of serious misdeeds—misdeeds that could have led to disaster. Now that the disaster has been averted, I would like to end this chapter in our history—once and for all—by pronouncing the sentences. Director of Forward Planning, please approach.”
Looking a bit surprised, a mouse with a red thread around his neck—one with a knot in it—shuffled toward the Big Cheese, a group of guards with toothpicks falling in behind him.
“Mr. Director,” said the Big Cheese, “members of the Security Department have been watching you closely and are convinced that you will be, from now on, a loyal member of our nation. I therefore propose to drop all charges against you, because I want to show our human friends how mouse justice works. In our system,” he said, turning to face the five humans, “we do not seek revenge. We want only to ensure that our criminals are no longer a threat to our society. And this mouse”—he turned back to the director—“this mouse has been humiliated enough. Indeed, I propose to return him to his old post as Director of Purchasing because I believe that there is no mouse on the planet who will be more careful with our resources.”
Megan felt cheated for a moment. Hadn’t the director set in motion events that could have brought down his own nation? And now, to let him walk away with barely a slap on the wrist? (If mice have wrists.)
“That wouldn’t work for us, unfortunately,” whispered her mom. “But for them…why not?”
A mouse ran forward to the director, with a red thread in his paws, one with no knot in it, and the director made three pirouettes in a row, throwing off his knotted thread as he did so.
What about Savannah, Megan wondered. Presumably she’d be forgiven too, especially now that she was a hero? But no. It seemed that the Big Cheese had a different sentence in mind. He looked exceptionally stern as he turned to her.
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