Stinker's Return

by Pamela F. Service

  They did. For hours.

  “How about this statue of George Washington in a toga?”

  “Too big.”

  “This dollhouse made for President Cleveland’s kids is pretty neat.”

  “I“ve been on planets where the real houses are that size.”

  “I don’t suppose the High Twak would want the gown worn by Mrs. Lincoln at their inaugural ball?”

  “You guessed it.”

  For a while, thinking back on all the gadgets in the Twakish collection, Stinker was tempted by a model steam engine, a sewing machine, and a clock with mechanical figures from American history. But finally he gave up those ideas.

  “Anyone who’s got that many gadgets is bound to have things that are almost the same,” Stinker griped, as they headed out of yet another exhibit gallery. “What’ll I do? That loony hair ball is going to start an interstellar war, all because I can’t find the perfect souvenir.”

  “Hey, don’t give up,” Karen said, feeling very much like giving up. “There are still lots of museums left. We can eat at soup kitchens and keep looking until you find it.”

  “Great,” Jonathan muttered, pushing at his glasses. “Days and days of marble buildings and glass cases. It wouldn’t be so bad if we could stop and actually look at this stuff. Some of it’s pretty cool.” He sighed. “At least when people are looking for a needle in a haystack, they know what a needle is supposed to look like.”

  They continued bickering, trudging through another gallery with Stinker staring half asleep from under the flap of the backpack.

  “Stop!” he suddenly thought at them.

  Karen and Jonathan stopped dead, staring fearfully around. No guards. No pointing children. No screaming ladies.

  “Back there. That exhibit!”

  Jonathan looked back at the sign. “It’s about entertainment—old movies and TV. Hey, if you didn’t want that old telegraph machine, why should you want an old movie projector?”

  “Just let’s go look, okay?”

  Sighing, they changed directions and walked through the exhibit. Among photos of old-time stars, there was furniture used on an old TV show, the red sweater once worn by TV’s Mr. Rogers, and some famous musicians’ piano. Music drew them on. It was a recording of Judy Garland singing “Somewhere over the Rainbow.” There were life-sized photos of Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tinman, and the Cowardly Lion all skipping down the yellow-brick road to Oz.

  “Somewhere over the rainbow,” Karen muttered. “That’s about the only place we’ll find this special thing.” Then her mind fizzed with Stinker’s mental shriek.

  “That’s it! There! I’ve found it!”

  “What? Where?” Karen and Jonathan asked, turning around.

  “Those shoes!”

  They looked at a small, clear case holding two sparkly red shoes. “Dorothy’s Ruby Slippers?” Karen asked in surprise.

  “Yes, they’re perfect! The only thing the High Gyrn has from Earth is your TV transmissions. He’s a real old-movie buff. He showed me his catalogue.”

  “And he’s seen The Wizard of Oz?” Karen asked.

  “Yes! Even I saw it when I was with you before. It’s a classic. No other people in the universe would have made a story quite like it, and no other place in the universe would have Dorothy’s original Ruby Slippers.”

  “Okay,” Jonathan said, “go for it. But that case’ll be sealed.”

  “Hey, give me a break. There’s a laser gun in my harness pocket. It’ll cut through anything.”

  Pretending to be interested in a nearby exhibit, Karen and Jonathan waited until there were no other visitors in that area. Then they lifted Stinker out of the backpack and plunked him down beside the case. He was clutching a flat red triangle in one paw. They turned around and stood like a screen, talking, to hide the faint sound of something being cut.

  Then they heard a tiny clink.

  “Done!” came the mental message. “I’ve got the top off. Now I’ll just climb inside and hoist out the shoes.”

  They talked louder to hide the scrabbling sounds and the two thumps. “Think two diamonds are enough in trade?”

  “Yeah, that’s plenty,” Jonathan said. “But hurry up, there’re some people coming.”

  “Drat. Now I’m stuck. Help me out, will you?”

  Turning around, Jonathan reached into the lidless case, pulled out the fat little skunk, and put him into the pack on Karen’s back. They had each picked up one of the slippers when a voice called, “Hey, you kids, what are you doing?”

  “Us?” Jonathan squeaked, spinning around and staring at the guard. “Uh . . . nothing. Just . . .”

  “Running,” Karen added, as she turned and sped toward a door. Jonathan was right behind. Their minds were hit by Sylon curses as Stinker was jolted up and down in the pack.

  Behind them there was shouting and the piercing squeal of a whistle. They pelted down a hall with the sound of shouts and footsteps close behind. Now a siren was screeching through the building. They ran up one staircase, along a hall, and down another staircase. More footsteps and shouting. For a moment their pursuers were slowed when Stinker thrust his hind end out of the jolting backpack and let loose a cloud of stinging, gagging stench.

  There was a door ahead of them. One guard even had a gun, but they barreled past him and burst into the open air.

  In front of them stood three men: a police officer, a man whose uniform patch said ANIMAL SHELTER, and NASA’s Mr. Blimpton.

  8

  Take Me to Your Leader

  A broad smile spread across Mr. Blimpton’s even broader face. “Well, well. Am I good at this or what?”

  “What?” Jonathan panted.

  “I’d just gotten back into town and, on a hunch, put out a request for information on unusual skunk sightings anywhere in the country. And what should come through on the police radio right here in town? A crazed skunk on the Mall. Now here I am, and here you are.”

  “Wrong!” Karen yelled. Grabbing an ice-cream cone from a startled bystander, she squashed it into Blimpton’s face as she and Jonathan barged past him.

  They dodged along a sidewalk crowded with tourists. Ahead was an even denser clump, children waiting to file onto a big yellow bus. They swerved around it and came across another group that had almost finished loading into a second bus.

  “Camouflage,” Jonathan called to Karen as he skidded to a halt at the end of the line. The kid ahead of them looked at the newcomers.

  “Boy, that was close,” Jonathan panted, straightening his glasses. “Thought we were going to miss the bus.”

  It was their turn. They crowded up the bus stairs. A flustered woman was trying to deal with someone’s lost spending money and didn’t glance at them. They looked back into the noisy bus and crammed into a seat beside a plump girl with pigtails.

  “Hi, I’m Tess,” the girl bubbled. “I bet you’re from Miss Morton’s group. Don’t you want to ride on your own bus?”

  “Nah,” Jonathan said.

  The bus doors folded closed, the engine grumbled, and they began to pull away from the curb.

  Karen looked nervously out the window, then added, “There were some bullies bugging us on the other bus, so we’re taking this one.”

  “Smart. I hate bullies. Hey, weren’t those museums neat? The ball gowns were totally awesome. But I think I liked the animal and fossil museum best. I got something totally cool at the gift shop.”

  Karen was listening to Stinker’s complaints about being squished, so she sat forward in her seat trying not to lean on the backpack.

  Jonathan answered the girl. “Oh, what?”

  “This.” She reached into a bag and pulled out a hot-pink plastic windup dinosaur. “When I turn this it walks, and opens and closes it mouth. My mom gave me ten dollars to spend. Did you get anything?”

  Jonathan smiled. “Yeah. I got a windup stuffed skunk.”

  “Don’t you dare!” came the shout in his mind.

  “But
I left it with Miss Morton for safekeeping,” Jonathan finished.

  Karen, peering out the window, glimpsed four men who were looking at the kids on the sidewalk, and then starting to run after their bus. The bus picked up speed and turned a corner.

  “I wonder how long this trip will take?” Jonathan asked, wondering really if it would take them to Georgia or somewhere else they didn’t want to go.

  “Only a few minutes, I guess,” said their seatmate. “Miss Campbell said the White House is really close.”

  “Oh. Right,” Karen said. In her mind Stinker was saying, “Good. Then we can get off there, head back to the ship, and cut out of here.”

  A few minutes later the bus pulled up beside a white building surrounded by an iron fence. Jostling and jabbering, everyone filed off the bus. Karen and Jonathan started to head down the sidewalk, but a woman turned them around and in a stern voice said, “Other way, dears. We’re already late so let’s go right in, shall we?”

  Before they knew it, they were swept in with the other kids through an unimpressive little side door. A guide was saying, “Welcome to the White House, home of the nation’s presidents. Move this way, please.”

  “What do we do now?” Karen whispered.

  “I guess this is as good a place to hide as any,” Jonathan whispered back.

  “Yeah, but I think those guys may have figured we got on the bus.”

  “Think they can pick us out among all these other kids?”

  “They can pick out my turquoise-and-pink backpack.”

  “Which you are not dumping,” Stinker added in their minds. “Have you got the Ruby Slippers safe?”

  They both patted bulges in their windbreakers and told him they had.

  “Good. Then head for the first exit you find. I don’t want to keep the High Gyrn waiting much longer.”

  They worked their way to the edge of the crowd following their guide. Then, when she was pointing out some dishes in a china cabinet, they slipped into the tour group just ahead of them. Moving from group to group, they had already gone up one flight of stairs and were just leaving a long glittery gold room when Karen glimpsed the animal shelter man entering at the other end. They rushed through the Green Room, the Blue Room, and the Red Room, explaining to disapproving guides that they had fallen behind their group.

  “Someday,” Karen whispered, “I’d like to really take a look at this stuff.”

  Jonathan whispered back, “Someday when we aren’t carrying stolen property and a furry space alien.”

  In the elegant State Dining Room they were trapped for a moment behind a large group of wide people, staring at the glistening china and chandeliers. Finally they wormed their way through to a long marble hall with a red carpet, a staircase going up, and, best of all, an open door going out.

  They were just heading toward it when they heard a jingling and barking. A floppy-eared black dog came galloping down the stairs. Behind him a young woman was calling, “Bubba, come back here!”

  Bubba happily pushed himself through the crowd of tourists, wagging his tail and receiving pats. Smiling with the others at the dog’s antics, Karen and Jonathan skirted the group and stepped toward the door.

  Just then Bubba stopped, growled, then started barking. Barking at Karen. Karen backed away, but the dog bounded forward, barking and making little half jumps.

  “Bubba! What’s gotten into you?” the woman cried. “Leave that girl alone!”

  The dog continued forward. Then, as Karen turned to run, he leaped up and smacked both paws into the backpack.

  A ball of black-and-white fur shot out of the pack like a cannonball. It landed with a thud on the red carpet and started running. Yapping happily, Bubba took up the chase.

  “Where’s the door?” Stinker squealed. But he saw only legs, legs of screaming people dodging every which way. Suddenly there was a stairway. The red carpet spilling down it was empty. Stinker shot up it, a black-and-white streak, with the snarling dog close behind.

  At the top of the stairs, more people. He charged down a hall. To get away from the snapping jaws he leaped onto a small table. Skidding along the marble top, he knocked off a china vase and shot right off the edge.

  Dizzily shaking his head, he saw only more doors and hallway. No escape there. Behind him, someone lunged for the dog and caught him. Stinker spun around and charged back down the hall the way he had come. As the skunk passed the frantic dog, Bubba pulled himself free and resumed the chase.

  Stinker glimpsed Karen and Jonathan almost at the top of the stairs. A guard yelled from below that the public wasn’t allowed up there. The dog was nearly on him. Just then a man stepped out of a doorway. A tall man. Stinker ran right up his front and perched panting on his shoulder. His tail splayed across the man’s face.

  “Mr. President, watch out!” a voice called.

  “Watch what? All I see is black-and-white fur.”

  “Hold very still, Mr. President,” ordered another voice. “We can shoot it off.”

  “No! Someone just hold that dog, and I’ll get it off.” Brushing away the tail, the president tried to look at the creature clinging to his shoulder. “Nice kitty. It’s all right. Bubba won’t hurt you.”

  “Greetings, Sir,” Stinker said clearly into his mind. “I am sorry I don’t have time to open proper diplomatic relations. But I’ve got to go. Top secret business, you know.”

  With a flip of his tail, Stinker sprang for the banister, and gripping all four legs around it, he slid down. Karen and Jonathan shrugged, smiled feebly at the president, and ran back down the stairs.

  “Someone shoot that skunk!” a man called.

  “Skunk?” the president said. “No, wait. Don’t shoot it!”

  The security man lowered his gun. “Why not, sir?”

  “I’ve got an odd feeling about that skunk.”

  “What do you mean, sir?”

  “It’s . . . uh, top secret.”

  9

  A Tale of Two Ships

  The tourists milling around the open door parted like the Red Sea as the skunk raced through them, followed by two running children. Outside, in the drive, a gray limousine had just pulled up. A uniformed doorman opened the door to let out an impressive-looking gentleman in colorful robes.

  Without a pause, Stinker bounded past the visitor and over the seat into the front. The driver took one look at his new passenger and bolted out his door, leaving the limousine in the possession of one skunk and two young humans.

  “Good, the engine’s still running,” Stinker said. “Now you two get up here. I’m going to need help driving this thing. It’s not made for a pilot my size.”

  As Jonathan and Karen clambered over the seat into the front, they could see several men running toward the car. Karen hit a button marked Door Lock, and the locks on all the doors clicked down at once.

  “Quick, how do you make it move?” Stinker squealed in their minds.

  “Press one of the pedals,” Jonathan said, sliding into the driver’s seat and putting Stinker on his lap. He stretched his legs far down and pressed one pedal, then the other. Nothing happened.

  “You’ve got to shift the gears,” Karen yelled, grabbing a lever and jiggling it. The car leaped backward and the men hammering on the doors reeled back.

  Frantically, Karen shifted the lever again. The car shuddered, then shot forward.

  “Guess I found the right pedal anyway,” Jonathan said, boosting Stinker up so he could see over the dashboard. The little skunk gripped the wheel with two paws and the limo wove wildly down the White House drive.

  “It’s a little different from flying a spaceship, but I’ll catch on,” Stinker said excitedly.

  “Better hurry up about it before we total this thing!” Karen cried, struggling to get her seat belt on.

  “Faster!” Stinker ordered. “I think I’ve got the hang of things now.”

  Jonathan scrunched down so he could press the gas pedal harder. Stinker scrambled onto his shoul
der.

  “Hey,” Jonathan complained, “now I’m so low I can’t see much.”

  “You’re lucky!” Karen said, watching in horror as the limo dodged through traffic, causing cars to swerve and pedestrians to scatter. Over the blasting horns and squealing brakes rose the sound of sirens.

  “They’re after us,” Karen said, craning around to stare out the back window, “and we don’t have a superfast spaceship this time.”

  “It’s okay,” Stinker assured her. “We’ve got a head start and all we have to do is get to the space museum, dive into my ship, and take off. No sweat, as you say.”

  “But not as I do,” Jonathan muttered, feeling the sweat prickling out all over him.

  “Sounds like an army of sirens,” Karen said, craning around again.

  “Why not?” Jonathan said, while trying to keep Stinker’s tail out of his mouth. “There should be the police from the park, Blimpton from NASA, the animal control guy, a Smithsonian guard or two, and no doubt lots of Secret Service officers from the White House. I wonder why the CIA, the Pentagon, and the FBI haven’t gotten into the act?”

  “Are you being funny?” Stinker asked, while swerving around an ice-cream truck.

  “Yeah, but I’m not laughing much.”

  Suddenly Karen recognized places. “Hey, we’re almost there. But what’s that big crowd?”

  Ahead, outside one end of the Air and Space Museum, a large crowd was gathered on plaza and lawn.

  “Isn’t that where we hid the ship?” Jonathan asked, struggling to get up high enough to see.

  “I’m not sure ‘hide’ is the right verb anymore,” Stinker said as he steered the limousine toward the curb. “Change pedals, please.”

  Jonathan jammed down the other pedal as well, and the car shuddered into an odd, grinding squeal. Quickly he shifted to the brake pedal only, and they stopped so suddenly that Stinker flipped forward and would have smashed into the windshield if he hadn’t been clutching the steering wheel so hard. Lying upside down on the dashboard he said, “Not the smoothest landing, but we’re here.”

  They opened the doors, and with the sound of sirens shrieking closer, they got out and plunged into the crowd. People were so tightly packed most didn’t notice the skunk running between their feet, though they weren’t too happy about the two kids forcing their way through. When the fugitives reached the front of the crowd, though, they stumbled to a halt.