“It’s good news, everyone,” Mrs. Edwards told them all on Ann’s porch. “Esmeralda is doing well. She’s not hurt, although she is suffering from some post-traumatic stress.”
Zola sat up. “Maybe I could help?” Mrs. Edwards patted her head. “Exactly. They’ve agreed to let Esmeralda finish her recovery at our house, hopefully in a few days.”
That let them schedule the video shoot for this morning. Oswald, Melvin, and Zola went into Ann’s house and joined the rest of the animals gathered in the dining room. They all sat attentively. Oswald reached for his clipboard, a lid from one of the takeout meals they shouldn’t have ordered off of Ann’s credit card. He kept it as a reminder. He checked items off as Tessa and Reggie scampered around to confirm they had them. Video camera, extension cords, extra lamps, a work glove with two holes cut in it, and a set of magic markers because Pixie had insisted on makeup even though her face would be covered with the work glove. It looked like everything was there.
“OK, we’re ready to shoot the re-enactment. Everyone into the kitchen, please,” Oswald said. Tiny and Mo held the video camera steady on top of an overturned pot on the kitchen table. Melvin looked at the viewfinder screen and pressed different buttons. Oswald climbed onto the counter, using a chair the raccoons had pushed into place for him.
“Melvin, can you pan the camera across the room—see if you can get everything you need?” Oswald said.
“Sure thing, boss,” Melvin said without any sarcasm. Frank perched on top of a cabinet, and the rest of the animals clustered by the doorway around Pixie.
“OK, Frank, you’ll take over for this next shot.”
“Got it,” Frank said.
Oswald climbed into the pot. The lid was on the counter. There was nothing in the pot this time, and they checked three times to make sure the burners were off.
“Frank will count us in for this scene. OK—here we go!” Oswald ducked down in the pot.
Frank called out, “Places, everyone. Melvin, start shooting in three, two, one, and we’re rolling . . . ”
Pixie walked into the kitchen wearing the large garden glove over her head. The fingers stuck up in the air. Tessa and Reggie had gnawed the eyeholes in it so Pixie could see out. Her sparkly eyeglasses were placed over the glove, because they wouldn’t fit underneath. She hummed as she looked around the kitchen, put an apron on that she’d rolled up, then looked right into the camera.
“Hi. I’m Pixie Groundhog, from Barnard Hill Park and—”
“Cut!” Oswald popped his head above the rim. “Pixie, you said you wanted to be anonymous. You don’t want anyone to know who you are until you know what will happen to you. Remember?”
“Right, right. Sorry.”
Oswald ducked back down into the pot.
Frank said, “Take two. Three, two, one—action!”
“Hi, I’m Pixie Groundhog, and my ex-husband is Grapejuice. Grape, if you’re listening, I want you to know that I love you and want you to come back—”
“Cut.” Oswald popped up again.
Melvin looked out from the camera. “I can redo the audio in the editing, so we can take out the things she shouldn’t be saying and you could narrate anything else the viewer needs to know. You’re doing the overall narration, anyway.”
“Good idea, Melvin. I like it. OK—Frank, take it away.” Oswald disappeared into the pot again.
Melvin returned to operating the video camera, and Frank counted them in. They let Pixie ramble on, knowing Melvin would edit it out. All the animals watched the playback.
“That’s fine. Plenty for me to work with,” Melvin said.
They took a short break outside before all of them except Reggie, Tessa, and Chuck came back in to help film the confession. Pixie sat at the end of the couch so that a framed picture of Joey and his mother was visible on the side table. Mo and Tiny dragged two extra lamps into the living room under Oswald’s instructions. The two raccoons moved them around until Oswald was satisfied with the lighting. Tiny put on the bow tie. He sat on the coffee table to do the interview.
As soon as Oswald counted them in, Pixie spilled her groundhog guts. She cried and begged forgiveness. She couldn’t stop herself from mentioning her name and begging Grapejuice to return. But rather than stopping the video, Oswald waddled up to Melvin and whispered, “Just bleep those words out, too.” Melvin nodded and the filming continued.
By the time they finished, it was dinnertime.
“Thank you, everyone. I could never have done this without any one of you. As a small thank-you, I’ve asked Chuck, Reggie, and Tessa to organize dinner on the back deck. So please, everyone, enjoy.”
The animals thundered out of the enlarged cat-flap hole to the deck where there was a wonderful array of bits of fried fish, French fries, pizza crusts, Chinese noodles, watermelon rinds, cookies, and lots of other things. It was organized into neat rows with the top of a pineapple in the center for decoration. Oswald didn’t remember ever having such a nice dinner with friends before. They told jokes, talked about how the day went, and took turns trying on Pixie’s red-glove disguise.
The temperature dropped as the rays of the setting sun gave a last grab at the day.
“Goodnight, guys, I’m off. You coming, Melvin?” Zola said.
“No, I’m good. I’ll stay here tonight. Tell the Edwards for me?” Melvin said.
“Sure,” the large dog said and wandered off toward home.
“I’m off too—I need to stretch my wings. See you all tomorrow.” Frank hopped onto the deck railing and took flight. The strong beating of his wings made a rhythmic swooshing until he blended in with the darkening sky.
After cleaning up from dinner, the rest of them moseyed back inside. Tessa, Reggie, and Hazel went upstairs to their nests. Pixie curled up on the chair in the living room. Tiny, Mo, and Chuck shared the couch, but now with an old sheet on it to protect it.
Melvin went toward the stairs. “I’m going to sleep on Joey’s bed. I miss him.”
“I know. So do I.” Oswald paused, looked around. “Melvin, I can’t thank you enough. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think we could have—”
“Fuggedaboutit. We’ll do the narration and stuff in the morning. Then we can send it off.” Melvin disappeared up the stairs.
Oswald curled up in the big comfy chair in the study and fell asleep happier than he’d ever been before.
38
TERRIBLE BUT NOT TRAGIC
The animals clustered in the study and stared at the computer screen. It had taken all morning and into the afternoon to record Oswald’s narration and do the editing. Melvin and Oswald would do the subtitles once everyone agreed on the final edit. Oswald was grateful and impressed with Melvin’s skills and patience.
“Melvin, go ahead,” Oswald said. Melvin clicked the mouse and the video played.
The shot faded in with Oswald on the couch.
“Hello. I’m Oswald Opossum, and I am honored to introduce you to a young groundhog, a brave and good-hearted critter. She will remain anonymous in this video for reasons that will soon become clear. She is here today to explain what happened this past Sunday at 3103 Perry Street, Mount Rainier, Maryland—a terrible but not tragic mistake that led to the wrongful arrest and jailing of Ms. Ann Jones. Ms. Groundhog is here today to set the record straight. We hope this will free Ms. Jones and reunite her with her ten-year-old son.” Oswald turned to the picture of Ann and Joey on the table next to the couch and Melvin zoomed in on it.
Next was the re-enactment. The animals were engrossed, yelling at the computer screen, trying to warn Pixie that Oswald was in the pot, seeming to forget that it was all make-believe this time. Oswald hoped this meant the video was good—that it was convincing.
Melvin had done an excellent job of removing Pixie’s self-identifying words. The result was awkward at times, but they decided this made the video seem all the more real. The only thing left to do was the subtitles.
When it was over, Oswald loo
ked around the room. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Maybe this will work.
There was the sound of the key in the front door and voices—Joey’s and someone else’s.
“Quick—everyone out, now!” Oswald whisper-shouted. He shut down the video and computer. Tiny and Melvin herded everyone out the back onto the deck. “You can stay, of course,” Oswald quickly said to Melvin before leaving, not that he needed to.
Oswald lingered, looking through the glass French doors while the other animals ran, leapt, and flew off the deck and scattered.
“Hey, Melvin, my main cat!” Joey said. He radiated happiness at the sight of his cat. Melvin purred and butted his head against the boy. Cat and boy, Oswald could see and feel the bond. A chill rolled through Oswald. He was glad Joey had such a good pal in Melvin, but realized he didn’t have that with Joey anymore—now that he’d ruined it. Or with anybody else for that matter.
A woman—this must be Joey’s stepmom, Suzette—looked around, picked things up, and shook her head. Two little kids, a girl and a boy, wandered around. Must be his stepsiblings. They look nice too—another whole family for Joey. He really doesn’t need me. Oswald slunk down the steps and under the deck to his room.
“What’s all this?” Suzette walked around. There were extension cords, lamps, pillows, magic markers, mugs, and all sorts of things all over.
“Hey, can I show Noah and Mary my old toys in the garage?” Joey said. He thought this might be a good distraction from the mess in the house. Though he couldn’t explain it, he had his suspicions. He looked at Melvin, who nodded to say, tell you outside.
“Good idea,” Suzette said. “Don’t let them get near that pool. I see it’s still up. I’ll get started in here.”
Joey and Melvin went out the door to the deck.
Mary and Noah ran back and forth the width of the deck, pretending to be airplanes. Joey shut the door.
“What the heck is going on? The place is a mess. And what happened to the cat flap? It’s just a big hole in the door now,” Joey whispered.
“You know, you could warn a cat, man,” Melvin said. “We were in the middle of videoing something. Sorry about the flap—made it bigger so everyone could get in and out OK.”
“Making a video? I was going to Skype or email you tonight. We were supposed to come tomorrow. But when Suzette picked me up from school today she told me there was a change of plans,” Joey said.
Noah zoomed by, arms outstretched, making airplane noises, heading for the steps. Joey caught him round the waist. “Whoa there, little man, let’s go see what toys we can find.” Joey led his little brother and sister to the garage. They emerged with balls, a scooter, and a small bike.
The sound of Joey’s dad’s car door closing filtered to the backyard. A few minutes later he emerged on the back deck. “Hi, kids.”
Mary, on the small bike, and Noah, on the scooter, circled around Carlton.
“Is your mom’s mower in the garage?” Carlton said.
“As far as I know,” Joey said.
“I can watch Mary and Noah while I mow. Why don’t you go in and give Suzette a hand inside. She says it’s like a bunch of animals had been in there.”
A couple of hours later and after fried fish dinners from Rhode Island Avenue, they got ready to head back to Joey’s dad’s house.
“The place looks great—all ready for me and mom,” Joey said. His dad and Suzette didn’t say anything.
“I’m going to go over to the neighbors’ house. The Edwards, right? I brought them a little thank-you for taking care of Melvin,” Suzette said. “Joey, do you want to come along—introduce us?”
“That’s a good idea. You two do that, while I pack up the computer. That way you can use it as much as you want at home, Joey, instead of us all trying to use the one in the family room,” Carlton said.
“MEOW!” Melvin made lots of odd noises.
“Is he going to be sick?” Suzette said. She made a face. Then Melvin started making sounds like he was going to throw up.
Joey ushered Melvin out the back door and down the steps to the grass.
“We gotta talk,” Melvin said. “You can’t take the computer. We haven’t put the subtitles on the video yet. It’s important so all humans can understand it.”
“So what’s this big important video about? Oswald trying to get famous again?” Joey said.
“No, I mean Oswald made the video—it was his idea, directed it. But it’s not about him,” Melvin spoke in hushed hurried tones while glancing over his shoulder. “I didn’t want to tell you before, in case it doesn’t work out.”
“In case what doesn’t work out?” Joey said.
“We’re hoping the video will get your mom out of jail.”
Joey’s eyes got big.
Suzette popped her head out of the back door. Melvin made a few fake retching sounds.
“Poor thing. That’s OK, then. I’ll go over to the Edwardses’ on my own,” she said.
“Thanks, Suzette. I better stay with Melvin. Hope we don’t have to take him to the vet,” Joey said. Suzette left.
“It was the groundhog that did it. The possum was already in the pot of chili. The groundhog didn’t know she was in there—she just put the lid on the pot and turned on the burner. And the rest, you know,” Melvin said.
“For real? I’ll go tell Dad and Suzette.” He rocketed back into the house and spilled the story to his dad, who he was coiling the cables up.
“Well, that’s really cute and everything, but we’ve all—your mom’s family, and I chipped in, too—we’ve already hired a lawyer. They’re putting together her case as it is. They’re talking to the DA,” Carlton said as he unplugged the screen from the computer and wound up more cords.
“But Dad, there’s a confession and everything by the person who really did it!”
Carlton stood up and stopped what he was doing, “Really? Who’s that?”
“It was Pixie, the groundhog—”
Carlton shook his head and sighed, “Oh, Joey. A groundhog? You know your mother talked to me about this, about your being so animal crazy. I mean, I didn’t really see a problem, but now, I’m thinking she might be right.”
“But Daad!” Joey promised the universe that if he could convince his dad of this one thing, he wouldn’t try for anything else for a really long time—maybe not until he was eleven. But nothing worked. His dad was convinced sending a video confession by a groundhog would only make them seem like “a bunch of fools.” And that they “should really let the professionals do their job and not meddle with the case.” Boy, grown-ups are dumb sometimes, Joey thought.
“Joey, will you please control your cat? This is the third time he’s jumped in the car,” Carlton said. He lifted Melvin out and put him down less gently than the first two times.
“Noah, Mary, hop in. Let me buckle you up,” Suzette said. Mary hopped in and did up the belts on her car seat. Noah took off laughing. His mom gave chase. Melvin wiggled through Suzette’s legs, under the car, and slinked in on the floor of the front seat.
“Got you!” Carlton said, grabbing the back end of the cat and tugged. “What’s with you, cat?”
“Joey, get in and close the door.” Suzette was still chasing Noah. Now was Joey’s chance. He whispered to Mary, “I need to get Melvin back to your house.” She nodded. “I’ll think up a reason we have to go back to my house. I might need you to play along. OK?”
“Should I tell Noah?” Mary said.
“No, this is big kid stuff. Just between you and me. OK?” Joey said. Mary nodded again then gestured to her left. The door opened and Suzette deposited a squirming, laughing Noah. Mary helped buckle him in.
Carlton put Melvin inside the front door of the house, closed it, and ran to the car. They were pulling away by the time Melvin had made it out the cat flap hole in the back and around the house.
When they turned onto Bladensburg Road, Joey said, “Oh no. I forgot my mom’s old Twister game. I’m sor
ry, Mary, I know I promised to bring it.”
“You FORGOT!? But you promised,” Mary said.
“That was a nice idea, Joey. We’ll get it next time,” Suzette said.
“But you promised!” Mary said.
Joey looked at her out of the corner of his eye and touched the skin below his eye. Mary started to cry.
“You know the waterworks don’t work on me,” Carlton said, making eye contact through the rearview mirror. Her pretend tears turned into pretend sniffles. Then in the meekest, sweetest voice she said, “That’s all right, Daddy. I understand.”
“Thanks, baby girl. That’s my angel,” Carlton said.
A moment later, Mary gave a long, sad sigh, in her highest, sweetest voice. A moment later, another. When she started the third, the turn signal went on.
“We’re not that far. Saves me from coming back another day,” Carlton said.
Suzette laughed. She held up her hand and made circles around her pinky. “Wrapped around, and around, and—”
Noah joined in, “Round and round and . . . ”
39
THE POSSUM’S ALL RIGHT
“Won’t be long,” Joey said. He ran through the door of his mother’s house and up the stairs.
“Psst. Melvin?”
“Right here. Great work, kid. What’s the plan?” Melvin said.
Joey rummaged around in his closet and found a duffle bag. He ran to his mother’s room and came back with the Twister game.
“Get in. You’ll have to hide. And Suzette says she’s allergic. Ready?”
“Don’t forget to act like the bag isn’t heavy, and don’t let anyone else carry it.”
“I’m not stupid,” Joey said, zipped the bag, and took it downstairs.
“You should be all set,” Joey’s dad said as he plugged the mouse into the computer, moved it, and watched the screen. He looked at his watch. “It’s not that late, if you want to watch TV downstairs with us.”
Joey yawned. “That’s OK. I’m kind of tired. I think I’ll hang out here,” he said.
“OK, son. Goodnight,” his father said. He stopped at the door. “I’m sorry about all this, you know.”
Oswald, the Almost Famous Opossum Page 14