Stand Up and Whistle

by Phyllis Perry

  “I don’t remember looking in the box at all this afternoon.”

  “Somebody might have seen whoever dumped them,” Chester said.

  “Or someone might have heard them bragging about it,” Geoff added.

  “Lots of kids are still here. Let’s run back down to the lockers and check around for anything suspicious,” Chester said.

  “Good idea,” Mr. Donelson said. “But remember. Don’t accuse anyone. Just keep your eyes and ears open.”

  “Mary Jo and I will check out the cafeteria,” Jeannie said. “If they were taken during lunch, it’s possible that they got ditched there.”

  “While you’re doing that, I’ll make one more search of the room,” Mr. Donelson offered. He looked grim.

  Fifteen minutes later, Jeannie and Mary Jo met Geoff and Chester and headed back to Mr. Donelson’s room. It was clear from their faces that no one had any good news to report.

  “I know that Bobby and Ryan did this,” Jeannie insisted outside the door, lowering her voice to a whisper. “It’s true I don’t have proof. But I know it.”

  “I know it, too,” Geoff said. “And I’d like to punch them out.”

  “I’d help,” Chester chimed in. “But they’re long gone, probably home by now having a good laugh at our expense.”

  They entered Mr. Donelson’s room. One look told them he had found nothing.

  “What are we going to do?” Mary Jo asked.

  Geoff said, “Chester and I will look through the trash bins in the boys’ bathrooms. Maybe they dumped them in there.”

  “Right,” Jeannie said. “After you check, come back here. Mr. Donelson, I know I can’t accuse anyone without proof, but could you find out from the office what classes Bobby and Ryan Watson have fifth and sixth periods? Maybe the petitions are in the wastebaskets in those classrooms.”

  “I’ll go to the office and find out what classes Bobby and Ryan have, and I’ll go check with the teachers in those rooms,” Mr. Donelson said.

  “Mary Jo and I will check the girls’ bathrooms,” Jeannie said. “Although I can’t imagine them being there.”

  Mr. Donelson headed off to the office while Jeannie, Mary Jo, Geoff, and Chester headed for the bathrooms.

  Nothing. As they glumly walked back toward Mr. Donelson’s room, the girls met Mr. Conway, the custodian, coming out of the art room. He wore his usual smile.

  “Mr. Conway,” Jeannie asked, “did you see anyone during lunch or after school carrying a bunch of papers or dumping them anywhere?”

  “No,” Mr. Conway said, and he shook his head. “Why?”

  “It looks like someone took our petitions about the prairie dogs that I’m supposed to be taking to the City Council meeting tonight,” Jeannie explained.

  “No,” Mr. Conway repeated. His smile had vanished, and he looked genuinely concerned. “I haven’t seen any petitions. But if I find anything on my rounds, I’ll let you know.”

  Defeated, the girls turned and started to walk away.

  “Hey!” Mr. Conway stopped them. “Come to think, I did see something. During the noon hour, two boys were arguing, and one jumped up on the big dumpster behind the cafeteria. I chased them off.”

  “Do you know who they were?” Jeannie asked, her heart quickening with the question.

  “Yeah. The Watson boys.”

  Jeannie looked at Mary Jo and could tell from the expression on her face that her friend was thinking exactly what she was.

  “Mr. Conway, I think maybe our petitions got thrown in that dumpster. Would it be all right with you if we looked? “Jeannie asked.

  “It’ll be a mess,” Mr. Conway warned. “Let me get some gloves and I’ll meet you out there.”

  Jeannie and Mary Jo ran down the empty halls to Mr. Donelson’s room and shared what they’d learned with him, Geoff, and Chester. Then the five of them hurried to the dumpster behind the cafeteria.

  Under normal circumstances, Jeannie would have been daunted by the size of the huge dumpster, standing on a cement slab just outside the cafeteria doors. But for the prairie dogs, she was willing to go through its contents banana peel by banana peel.

  “We’ll help you, Mr. Conway,” Chester said.

  “Most of the trash in here comes from the cafeteria barrels,” Mr. Conway explained. “I line those barrels with plastic sacks and use a twist tie before I toss them. Cuts down on the smell. A little,” he added. “If something was just tossed in loose, we ought to be able to find it pretty quick. If it’s in one of the closed bags, we’ll have a real mess on our hands.”

  Mr. Conway, a short, wiry little man, threw open the huge lid of the dumpster. Immediately a bunch of revolting smells engulfed them. With surprising agility, Mr. Conway leaped up, climbed over, and dropped inside. One by one, he began lowering bulging bags of trash to Geoff and Chester, who dropped them outside. Before long, Mr. Conway was completely out of sight.

  Waiting as the bags were lifted out, all the events of the past week raced through Jeannie’s mind. She couldn’t bear the thought that they had come so close to reaching their goal, only to have the valuable petitions vanish. It couldn’t be just a coincidence that the Watsons were fooling around the dumpsters today. She hoped that in her eagerness to blame them, she wasn’t putting a lot of people through a disgusting task for nothing. Worry and the smells from the dumpster made Jeannie feel sick to her stomach.

  Suddenly Mr. Conway’s head, wearing a grin and waving a fist full of papers, appeared at the top of the dumpster. “These what you’re looking for?” he asked. There was a note of triumph in his voice.

  Jeannie ran forward and grabbed the papers. “Yes!” she cried as she took them. “Yes, yes, yes! Look, everybody. It’s the petitions!”

  She waved the papers, which smelled slightly of Parmesan cheese, in the air and jumped up and down. The others crowded around wearing broad smiles.

  “Oh, thank you, Mr. Conway!” Jeannie added, turning back to the custodian.

  “Let me take a look-see to make sure I’ve got them all,” Mr. Conway said. And his head disappeared again as he hoisted another two sacks out to Geoff and Chester. “Yup. That’s it,” he finally announced, as he climbed out.

  It took only minutes for them to toss the big bags of garbage back into the dumpster and close the lid. Everyone thanked Mr. Conway again and then they all went back to Mr. Donelson’s room.

  Jeannie smoothed out the petitions and counted them as the others sat around a table and watched. “There are eighty-seven petitions. Let’s see.” She scribbled a few numbers. “That means we have one thousand, one hundred, and ninety names!”

  “Way to go!” Geoff shouted, leading cheers and high fives around the circle.

  “Considering where they’ve been, they don’t even smell too bad,” Chester said, picking one up and giving it a sniff.

  “I think I’ll sprinkle a little bath powder on them when I get home,” Jeannie said. “But believe me, I’d deliver these petitions tonight even if they were smothered in spaghetti sauce!”

  “All right,” Mr. Donelson said. “You kids did great detective work figuring out where they were. But now I’m going to have to ask you to do something even more difficult.”

  Geoff, Chester, Mary Jo, and Jeannie all turned to face him. Mr. Donelson was no longer smiling. His face was grave.

  “First, I owe Jeannie an apology. She kept telling me that the petitions were stolen, not mislaid in the classroom, and she had good suspects. I just didn’t want to believe that kids in our school would do something like that. But it’s clear that those petitions were taken and thrown in the dumpster. And it certainly looks as if the Watson boys are involved. I’m sorry I doubted you, Jeannie.”

  “That’s okay, Mr. Donelson. To be honest, I didn’t want to believe it either.”

  “In spite of that,” Mr. Donelson went
on, “I’m going to ask that none of you mention to anyone the fact that these petitions were ever missing. Don’t tell a soul that we searched for them or that we finally found them in the cafeteria dumpster. And above all, don’t mention the names of Ryan and Bobby Watson.”

  “We can keep quiet,” Jeannie promised, “but why?”

  “Your job is to see to it that these petitions get to the Council tonight. I’ll see to it that the Watson boys are dealt with appropriately. But for that to happen, I’ll need to meet privately with the principal.”

  “Okay,” Jeannie agreed.

  The others nodded.

  “I’m going to see the principal now and tell him exactly what we know, and we’ll talk with Mr. Conway and ask him to keep quiet about all this, too. It’ll be up to the principal to decide what to do next. My guess is that he’ll want to bring Ryan and Bobby and their parents in for a talk tomorrow morning. But that’ll be up to him.”

  Then Jeannie began to smile. “I wonder if the Watsons will be there tonight expecting to hear excuses for why we have so few petitions. If so, they’re going to be in for a big surprise.”

  “All the more reason not to breathe a word of the missing papers before or after the meeting,” Mr. Donelson said. “If Ryan and Bobby are involved, and it certainly looks as if they are, they’ve made a serious mistake. Perhaps when they’re called on it, the boys will confess. Remember, I’m counting on you not to talk about this.”

  They all nodded solemnly.

  “All right. Make tracks,” Mr. Donelson said, and his happy smile returned. “I think you kids have someplace important to be tonight, don’t you?”

  As they headed out the door, Mr. Donelson called after them. “By the way, I’ll see you there.”

  “You’re coming to the meeting?” Jeannie asked, surprised.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Mr. Donelson said.

  Chapter Ten

  Jeannie and Mary Jo scrambled to make up the time they’d lost searching for the missing petitions after school.

  As soon as they reached Jeannie’s house, they dropped their backpacks in the kitchen and ran upstairs. Jeannie got two boxes of bath powder from her mother’s dresser.

  “Jasmine or lilac?”

  “Lilac,” Mary Jo decided.

  Jeannie fanned the petitions and sprinkled scented powder between the sheets of paper in the manila folder.

  “Not too much,” Mary Jo warned.

  Then the girls took the folder outside and shook the pages vigorously as a white cloud rose above them. Laughing, they went back into the kitchen, took the pages out one by one, and dusted them off with a clean towel.

  “There,” Jeannie said with satisfaction, giving the pages a hearty sniff. “Maybe by tonight they won’t smell at all, but better the scent of lilacs than Parmesan cheese!”

  Mary Jo grinned. Then she suddenly turned serious again. “Do you think Bobby and Ryan will be there tonight?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure they’re the ones who stole the petitions. They’ll come,” Jeannie said.

  The girls dashed off their math homework, ran through “Memories” once at the piano, and then Mary Jo packed up to go home. “We’ll pick you up at six-thirty tonight,” Jeannie reminded her as she left.

  It was one thing to promise to keep silent about something as big as the theft of the petitions, and quite another thing to keep the promise. Jeannie found herself wanting to blab all about it the moment that her parents got home, but she bit her tongue. Fortunately she could crow about the number of signatures they’d collected. There was little time anyway, as they grabbed a bite to eat and got ready for the Council meeting.

  Jeannie climbed into the van with her mother and father, and they quickly made the rounds picking up Mary Jo, Geoff, and Chester. All of them lived in the same neighborhood.

  “Looks like there may be a crowd tonight,” Mr. Broderson observed when they pulled into the nearly full City Hall parking lot. “I’m glad we came early.”

  Once inside, they checked a copy of the printed agenda, which was posted on the door. The prairie dog issue was the second item of the meeting.

  “Thank goodness,” Mrs. Broderson said. “With luck, we should be out of here at a reasonable hour.”

  Quickly, they found seats in the third row. Betsy Keasley from the Animal Defense Fund was talking with someone across the room. She came over and joined them right away, handing Jeannie twelve signed petitions.

  We did it!” Jeannie whispered, tucking these into her manila folder. “With these, we have 1190 signatures.”

  “Wow!” Betsy said. “That’s fantastic! I’ve never heard of a petition drive going so fast and so well. And from what I hear, other things are going our way, too,” Betsy whispered. “Maria Mendoza has been bugging people to find a place to relocate the prairie dogs. It’s become a campaign issue for her.”

  In no time at all, the Council chamber filled. Jeannie saw Mr. Donelson arrive. He found an empty seat in the middle of the room and gave Jeannie a thumbs up. Moments later, Mrs. Woodley slipped in and claimed one of the last empty seats. As more people came, the overflow began to stand along the sides and the back wall.

  Jeannie started to worry. Who were all these people? Were they here about the prairie dogs or about some other agenda item? And if they were here about the prairie dogs, whose side were they on? She spotted Mark Hathaway, and at almost the last minute she turned her head and saw Ryan and Bobby Watson enter with their father. They stood in the back. Ryan gave Jeannie his usual glare while Bobby glanced her way and then dropped his gaze.

  After roll call, minutes of the last meeting were accepted. Then the mayor turned to his notes and said, “Our next item concerns the prairie dog colony located at Willow Creek. It’s my understanding that a number of people, including students from George Washington Middle School, have become concerned about this issue. One student has asked to present us with petitions tonight. Would Miss Jeannie Broderson please come forward?”

  At the mention of her name, Jeannie stood. Suddenly her mouth felt dry and her knees were wobbly. She wondered if she could walk. She glanced at Mark Hathaway and saw his look of astonishment. “Keep your eye on Bobby and Ryan’s faces,” she managed to whisper to Mary Jo.

  Jeannie walked to the microphone and faced the council members. She took a breath. She knew now how Dorothy must have felt when she faced the great Wizard of Oz—very small and insignificant. “In this folder,” she began, “I have petitions addressed to the Council and signed by one thousand, one hundred and ninety voters of Boulder.”

  Jeannie caught the look of surprise on the council members’ faces when she mentioned the number of people who had signed petitions. Each council member gave her their full attention.

  “Most of these petitions,” she went on, “were circulated by students who are concerned about the prairie dogs. We aren’t trying to stop the new mall from being built.” She paused and smiled. “You probably know that kids love to shop in malls.” The Council members smiled back.

  “And we aren’t trying to prevent people from working at their construction jobs. We’re just asking that the prairie dogs be relocated before construction starts. Last Saturday over in Longview, 1,500 prairie dogs died a horrible death. We ask your help in making sure that doesn’t happen again next week at Willow Creek.”

  As she stopped speaking, loud applause broke out from the audience. Jeannie handed the folder containing the petitions to the Council secretary who passed it to the mayor. As she took her seat, Jeannie could tell from the proud look on her mother and father’s faces that she’d done well.

  “Thank you, Miss Broderson,” the mayor said. Did Jeannie imagine it, or had the mayor sniffed just a bit as he quickly thumbed through the petitions before passing them on to the member on his right? “Are there others who wish to address the Council on this topic? If so, I’d ask
you to come to the podium now, state your name, and speak briefly, please.”

  Betsy stepped forward first. She stressed that the health of the prairie dogs was critical to dozens of species of birds and animals and referred the council members to the packet of information she had sent previously. “The relocated prairie dogs provide several benefits. They improve soil quality by churning and fertilizing it. Their burrows help prevent run-off and channel and conserve water,” she said. Betsy finished by saying, “The Animal Defense Fund pledges manpower for any relocation efforts.”

  Mark Hathaway walked to the podium next. He explained that Keelor Construction regretted the deaths at Longview and only resorted to killing prairie dogs when they were unable to find places to relocate them. He’d cooperate in any way. “But we can’t delay our start date of a week from Monday,” he concluded.

  Jeannie rolled her eyes. Would the world come to an end if construction on the mall was delayed a day or two?

  Next, Mr. Watson spoke briefly. “Construction work has been hard to find. Jobs are far more important than prairie dogs. Don’t make us wait while you hunt homes for disease-carrying rodents.”

  Finally, a woman wearing a smart business suit stepped up and identified herself as Maria Mendoza, one of Boulder County’s three commissioners. “County Commissioners seldom attend City Council meetings,” she said. “But the timing is so critical in this matter that I wanted to personally assure the council members, and all the audience here tonight, that I have located an appropriate place on county open space land where the Willow Creek prairie colony can be relocated.”

  Under cover of the applause that again broke out in the chambers, Jeannie asked Mary Jo, “How did Bobby and Ryan react when I held up all the petitions?”

  “They stared as if you’d just sprouted horns,” Mary Jo said. “They looked at each other, and their mouths fell open.”

  “Yeah,” Geoff whispered. “I hope Mr. Donelson saw them!”

  Jeannie eagerly scanned the faces of the Council members as Maria Mendoza spoke. Three looked interested, four looked bored, and two, including the mayor, seemed busy scribbling notes on pads of yellow paper. How did they feel about this issue?