Stand Up and Whistle

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Stand Up and Whistle Page 3

by Phyllis Perry


  Jeannie stared at the kitchen clock for the zillionth time and sighed. No one from Keelor Construction had called. Jeannie began to worry that they wouldn’t phone at all.

  “Should you call them back?” Mary Jo asked.

  Jeannie hesitated, and felt the frown that she’d been wearing all afternoon deepen. “I don’t think so,” she finally said, although her fingers almost itched to pick up the phone. “There’s still plenty of time before five o’clock. I just hate waiting.”

  “Do you want to see what’s on TV?” Mary Jo asked.

  “I’d rather talk about the talent show,” Jeannie said. She fixed her brightest smile on her friend.

  “What’s to talk about?” Mary Jo said. “I told you I wasn’t going to audition, and that’s that.”

  “Oh, come on,” Jeannie pleaded. “You’re good, Mary Jo, really good. Honest! If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be pressuring you. The notices say that you have to sign up soon, but you won’t audition until next week. That gives you plenty of time to practice. Remember, by next week there’ll be the ‘new you’ wearing contacts! Ta-da!” As she said this, Jeannie threw out her arms for dramatic effect.

  Mary Jo grinned. “Well you’re right about that, I can’t wait to get them. But that doesn’t change a thing about the Extravaganza. If it was just Mrs. Green and Miss Rafferty handling the auditions, I might give it a try. But there’s no way that I’m going to get up in front of the eighth grade in-crowd. They’d just laugh at me. Behind their well-manicured hands, of course.”

  “No, they wouldn’t. They’d listen to you sing, and they’d be impressed!”

  “They’d take one look at me and groan,” Mary Jo insisted. “I may finally lose the glasses, but let’s face it. I’m fat. My hair isn’t spiked or sun-streaked. I don’t have pierced ears and wear earrings. My clothes don’t have any of the right labels. My mom won’t let me wear lip gloss and nail polish at school. I’m out of it. Now, let’s watch some TV. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Jeannie said, but to herself she thought, Oh, boy. Talking Mary Jo into this is going to be really, really hard. I wish Karen were here right now. She’d help me persuade her.

  “You check out the TV and find out what’s on while I make some popcorn,” Jeannie said.

  The promise of a snack brought a smile to Mary Jo’s face. As Mary Jo headed for the family room, Jeannie took a pouch of popcorn out of the cupboard and put it in the microwave.

  After it had finished popping, she poured it in a bowl. Her nose wrinkled in pleasure at the delicious, buttery smell. Before she left the kitchen, she took one last long look at the phone, which sat stubbornly silent.

  At a quarter to five, when the phone finally rang, Jeannie bolted off the coach and into the kitchen with Mary Jo right on her heels.

  “Remember!” Mary Jo said. “Deep voice.”

  Jeannie took a breath and picked up the phone. “Hello,” she said. Her voice was deep and steady, but her hands were trembling.

  “Ms. Broderson?”

  Jeannie immediately recognized the voice of the secretary that she’d spoken with yesterday. “Yes,” she said. “This is Jeannie Broderson.”

  “I’m calling from Keelor Construction,” the woman said. “Mark Hathaway asked me to phone you. He’s been delayed at a meeting and won’t be able to get back to you today.”

  “I see,” Jeannie said. Her pounding heart began to slow. “That’s very disappointing.”

  “Mr. Hathaway apologizes and says that he’ll call you tomorrow afternoon. Will you be in then?”

  “Yes. I’ll be available after 3:30. And, uh, thank you for letting me know.”

  “You’re welcome, Ms. Broderson.”

  Jeannie hung up the phone feeling like a deflated balloon. She’d been so pumped up for this call, ready and eager to take on any challenge. Now she had to wait another twenty-four hours. She looked over at the corkboard on the kitchen wall and stared at the photo of Whistler. Another day of not knowing. Time was running out.

  “What happened?” Mary Jo asked.

  Jeannie told her. “At least he had the secretary call to say he couldn’t talk today. That’s something. I mean, I wasn’t totally ignored. If we’d sat here all afternoon and heard nothing, I’d really be mad.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Mary Jo rubbed her friend’s shoulder. Slowly she began picking up her books and papers and stuffing them into her backpack. “It’s time for me to go, but cheer up. He’ll call tomorrow for sure.”

  __________

  At breakfast the next morning, Jeannie’s dad lowered the newspaper to peer over it at Jeannie. “Hey, Jeannie, didn’t I hear you say the other night that you’d visited the Keelor Construction site at Willow Creek and were writing a report on prairie dogs? Look at this.” He handed the paper across the table.

  Jeannie took the paper, read as fast as she could, and then stared at the picture. The colored newspaper photo showed a small group of people at the edge of a dirt field in Longview. There was one woman and four men in business suits. The captions read: ‘Mark Hathaway of Keelor Construction spends the afternoon with Mayor Tom Davis’ and ‘Boulder County’s three County Commissioners at a ground breaking ceremony of the site of Longview’s soon-to-be-built business park.’

  “So that’s where Mark Hathaway was yesterday,” Jeannie said. “Over at their other construction site. No wonder he was too busy to talk with me.”

  “Too busy to talk with you? Were you trying to talk with him?” her dad asked.

  “Yeah. He was supposed to phone me but I guess he was in Longview with the mayor and County Commissioners. And if it’s a ground-breaking ceremony, the poisoning must be getting close.”

  “Poisoning?” Her mother looked up from her coffee. “Calls from a construction company? What’s this all about?”

  Jeannie’s mother was still in her robe and slippers. Her light brown hair, flecked with gray, was brushed but still hanging loose. Later it would be twisted into a neat French braid. She not only worked in a bookstore, she was a night owl who sat up late reading every night. She maintained that she never came fully awake until after her second cup of morning coffee. In their household on weekdays, everyone was on their own to find juice, toast, and cereal for breakfast or go hungry.

  “Before they bring in the construction crews, they’ll poison the prairie dogs,” Jeannie explained. “You remember that Mary Jo and I went over there to get pictures for our school report. One of the workmen there said the prairie dogs would be poisoned next week. So I called up Keeler Construction to see if that was true. I waited all afternoon for this guy to call.”

  “Looks like he was busy yesterday,” her dad said.

  “Yeah,” Jeannie said, “busy with the bigwigs. And he may be stalling, too. I mean the prairie dogs could all be dead by the time he calls me this afternoon.” Jeannie’s lip trembled.

  Her mother quickly came around the table. “Honey, don’t get yourself all worked up over this,” she said, kissing Jeannie on top of the head. “That’s not going to help anyone.”

  “But I’ve got to do something.” Willing herself not to cry, Jeannie said, “I’ll bet the mayor of Longview doesn’t even know there is a prairie dog colony right under his feet. And people in Willow Creek don’t know, either. Time’s running out for Whistler.”

  “Whistler?” Her father, who had been about to leave, paused, jacket over his arm and briefcase in hand. “What are you talking about now?”

  Jeannie ran to the corkboard and took down the picture of the prairie dog that Mary Jo had taken last Saturday.

  “Don’t you see?” Jeannie asked. “Mark Hathaway’s smiling in the newspaper picture. No wonder; he’s getting great publicity for the new business park. But I bet he won’t invite the papers to come the day that they’re poisoning the prairie dogs.”

  “How did you get involve
d in all this?” her father asked, setting down his briefcase.

  “After the workman told us the prairie dogs were in danger, I talked to my science teacher, Mr. Donelson, to find out what we could do. He said first we had to check our facts. We had to be sure that the construction company really was planning to poison the prairie dogs at Willow Creek. And if they are, then I plan to stop them.”

  Jeannie saw her mother shudder. “Honey, if they are planning to poison prairie dogs, I think it’s awful, too. But it doesn’t say anything like that in the paper. And even if they are planning to poison them, how can you stop them? It’s private land. They own it. They can do what they want.”

  “They don’t have the right to kill,” Jeannie insisted.

  “Remember, you don’t have all the facts,” Jeannie’s mother reminded her.

  Jeannie exploded. “Facts! Facts! Facts! While people stand around waiting for facts, helpless prairie dogs are about to be poisoned! Well, they’re not going to kill the colony at Willow Creek. Or at Longview, either. Not if I can help it.”

  “You’re upset, Jeannie,” her dad said, “and I can understand that. But you don’t know what plans Keelor Construction has for the prairie dogs. When this Mr. Hathaway calls you, you need to listen respectfully and not start shouting. Can I count on you to do that?”

  “Yeah,” Jeannie said reluctantly.

  “Is that a promise?” her dad asked.

  Jeannie could see the worry and concern in her father’s face. “I promise.” She exhaled and let some of the anger seep out of her.

  “That’s my girl. And remember, I’m proud of you for caring.” Her dad gave her a hug. “I’ve got to leave now or I’ll be late to work. We’ll talk more about this later. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Jeannie agreed. But inside she was still screaming. Nothing about this is okay. It’s all wrong!

  After her father rushed out the door, her mother poured herself a second cup of coffee and sat back down at the table. “Now finish your breakfast, Jeannie. You can’t go off to school all upset and with nothing to eat.”

  Jeannie sat down and drank her orange juice. She knew she couldn’t eat a bite of the now cold toast. She didn’t even try.

  “This is important, Mom. Really important!”

  “I know it is, Jeannie. And I’m glad you care.”

  “If Keelor Construction intends to poison those prairie dogs, I’m going to get help from my social studies teacher, Mrs. Woodley. I’m going to e-mail the three County Commissioners and tell them about it. After all, these prairie dogs live in our county and they need protection. I’m going to call on the Animal Defense people, too.”

  Jeannie took the photo of Whistler back to the bulletin board and pinned it up again. As she jabbed the tack into the corkboard, she looked back at her mother and said, “And that’s just for starters!”

  Chapter Four

  Mr. Donelson arranged for his students to spend science period in the school library working on their reports. Several pairs of students were closely clumped around the media specialist, Mrs. Hosler, enlisting her help. Mrs. Hosler had been new to the school last year, but she quickly won over the students. She was tiny with short, dark, curly hair and sparkling eyes. What she lacked in size, she made up for in enthusiasm. Dressed flamboyantly as usual, she darted from group to group like an exotic bird.

  Mary Jo and Jeannie sat together at a small round table near the windows. “We already have plenty of information,” Mary Jo said. “I think we’re ready to write our first draft, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Jeannie agreed. “Mr. Donelson only asked for three sources of information, and we’ve got about ten. But I can’t sit and concentrate on the report right now. First I have to find out from Mrs. Hosler how to look up some addresses.”

  “What addresses?”

  “I need addresses for the three County Commissioners and one for the Animal Defense group.”

  Mary Jo groaned. “You’re still on your save the prairie dogs kick, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not on a kick,” Jeannie said angrily. Then when she realized that she’d spoken so loudly several heads had turned their way, she whispered, “This is important, Mary Jo. It’s Wednesday. There was a picture in this morning’s paper about the ground-breaking at the Keelor Construction site in Longview. The article said they’re supposed to start work on the new business park next week. I think there’s a really good chance that they’ll poison the prairie dogs this weekend.”

  “You’ve got poison on the brain,” Mary Jo said. “We finally get some class time to work on our report, and you want to do something else. If we don’t use the time we’ve got today, we’ll have to do the whole thing as homework. Do you remember that I’ve got a birthday party this weekend and my sister home from college?”

  Jeannie felt herself blush. Did she have poison on the brain? Mary Jo used to be on her side. Didn’t Mary Jo care what was going to happen? “I haven’t forgotten,” Jeannie said.

  “It’s always this way,” Mary Jo went on. “You think you can move mountains overnight. Sure, we can write the whole report tonight. Sure, we can get twenty environmental groups involved, write a letter to the editor, call all the commissioners, and save the prairie dogs by Saturday morning! Get real! It takes time to do something this major. It’s already too late.”

  Jeannie stared at her friend. It was rare for Mary Jo not to agree with her. Maybe she was biting off more than she could chew. But she couldn’t help it. Slowly she stood up. “It shouldn’t take long, and as soon as I find the addresses, I’ll come back and help with the report.” Taking a pencil and notebook with her, Jeannie headed for Mrs. Hosler.

  Mrs. Hosler pointed Jeannie in the right direction for the information. Thumbing through the pamphlets in the vertical file, Jeannie quickly located the names of the three County Commissioners. They were Maria Mendoza, Randall Stuart, and Peter Ferrara. She carefully copied their names, street addresses, and e-mail addresses into her notebook.

  One of the library computers was free by then, and Jeannie typed in the name ‘Animal Defense.’ Within a few minutes, she had the address of the Rocky Mountain branch located right there in Boulder. She copied it down.

  Triumphant, Jeannie made her way back to the table where Mary Jo sat scribbling away.

  “Found them,” she said.

  “Good,” Mary Jo said, curtly. “Now, can we work together on this report?”

  “Sure,” Jeannie agreed meekly. She heard the irritation in Mary Jo’s voice and knew this was no time to have her friend mad at her. If the message she got this afternoon from Keelor Construction was as bad as she expected, Jeannie was going to desperately need Mary Jo’s help. “I’m sorry I made you mad.” She whispered. “I guess I do go overboard sometimes. It’s just I really can’t stand the idea of the prairie dogs being killed.”

  By the time they left the library to return to class, Mary Jo was in her usual good humor, and they had finished a first draft of about a third of their report. As they walked past the music room door, Jeannie saw the big sign-up sheet posted there for the Extravaganza. She decided against saying anything about it to Mary Jo right now. Jeannie didn’t want to risk making her mad again.

  __________

  After school, they hurried to Jeannie’s, put the phone in the middle of the table again, and started on math. They’d only completed two problems when the phone rang right next to Jeannie’s elbow, startling her.

  “Deep voice,” Mary Jo reminded, her own voice almost squeaking with excitement.

  Jeannie reached out a shaking hand, picked up the phone and said, “Hello.”

  “Ms. Broderson?” a male voice inquired.

  “Yes, it is.” Jeannie nodded her head up and down at Mary Jo and frantically motioned her closer. Mary Jo was in such a hurry to get around the table that she almost knocked the kitchen chair over. She
put her head right next to Jeannie’s, close to the phone.

  “This is Mark Hathaway. First, let me apologize for not calling yesterday. I was unavoidably detained and didn’t get back to the office until quite late in the day. I understand you have some questions about the Willow Creek site where we’re going to be building the Mile Hall Mall.”

  “Yes, I do.” Jeannie grabbed her notes off the table. “And I appreciate you returning my call. My question is simple. What are your plans for the prairie dogs that are living on that site?”

  “Ah, the prairie dogs. Yes, I see. My note does indicate that you were out there last weekend photographing them and that you were doing some sort of report.”

  “That’s right,” Jeannie said. “I’m very interested in your plans.”

  “Well, I wish I had better news to share. We had hoped to trap the prairie dogs and then relocate them on county open space land. But unfortunately, those plans fell through, so now we’re—”

  “Why?” Jeannie interrupted. “Why did those plans fall through?”

  “We’ve learned that it’s actually pretty complicated getting permission to do anything on open space land.” He laughed half-heartedly. “You wouldn’t believe the red tape.”

  “So what are your new plans?” Jeannie demanded.

  “Did you mention who you were writing this report for?” Mr. Hathaway asked smoothly.

  “No, I don’t believe I did,” Jeannie said, “and you haven’t answered my question.” Jeannie was getting angry and beginning to wonder how long this conversation would go on before she found out what she wanted to know.

  Jeannie referred to her notes again. “The plight of these animals is of grave concern to me,” she said. Mary Jo smiled and nodded her head vigorously in approval. “What’s going to happen to them?”

  “Well, I want to be completely honest with you, Ms. Broderson. We’re still hoping to be able to relocate the prairie dogs both at Longview and at Willow Creek. But prospects don’t look good, and construction is supposed to begin Monday at the Longview site. If we haven’t found a way to relocate them, the prairie dogs will need to be exterminated.”

 

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