“Oh no, you don’t!” April charged and vaulted over the emerging moon mole barrier to her team.
“What’s happening?” she shouted over the din of digging claws and screeching shadows.
Castor sighed. “Mother’s here.”
CHAPTER 28
On Parents’ Day, parents and guardians are invited to join scouts in a series of activities to highlight scouts’ accomplishments and goals.
On this day, parents take a narrow road through the woods, which leads through the archway entrance to the main campus.
Castor’s mother, Captain Elara, dropped in out of the sky, after traveling a great distance along what Moon Pirates refer to as the great intergalactic current, on the great ship Luna.
The Luna was not your average vessel. It was built for moon voyages and moon mice, and it was light and quick for banking past stars. Inside it was full of gears and levers perfect for little paws, compartments for eating and sleeping and flying, and . . . well that’s about it really. Outside it was roughly the size of a treehouse, but round, perfectly round, and glowing, a globe of quivering light with a whirring, spinning surface, a surface made up of a number of mechanics that would blow the average mechanic’s mind.
It was a moon-shaped vessel built for traveling from moon to moon to moon, in search of whatever was available, preferably cheese, a substance more plentiful than most people would think and most cheese lovers would dare to dream.
The Luna landed on the field with a massive whoosh of air, a wave that sent the scouts on the field toppling backward into the wall of moles standing guard.
As Roanoke scrambled to their feet, there was another whirring noise. From inside the glow and between the spinning parts of the ship’s flying gears, a large door popped open with a blast of what looked like bluish fog.
Out fanned a small army of mice in fine silk coats and leather belts, all carrying little silver swords, followed by the great captain herself.
Captain Elara was a relatively tall, broad-shouldered, and long-tailed mouse. She wore gold and silver rings on her claws and around her tail. Her long, gold petticoat was thickly embroidered and bedazzled with gemstones. Even her whiskers were tinted silver and gold. On her head perched a large pear-shaped hat with a feather sticking straight out of the top.
“Great jewels of Jupiter, Mother,” Castor scampered forward, “it’s not that formal a planet. You needn’t be so ceremonial.”
Captain Elara was not amused. “I beg your pardon?” She stomped her paw, rattling her rings. “You dare to ‘Great jewels of Jupiter, Mother’ me after you have failed quite miserably at retrieving even a slice of cheese from this miserable planet stocked with Swiss-brained fools?”
Castor crossed her paws over her chest. “These people are my friends! I refuse to pillage from them.”
The feather on Elara’s hat bobbed as she fumed. “HONESTLY, CASTOR! What are you, a MOUSE or a HUMAN?”
“I am a mouse,” Castor said. Then, quietly, “And you needn’t be so rude.”
“Uh, hi.” Jo stepped forward, smiling hospitably. “I’m Jo, member of Roanoke cabin, uh, heh, human. I’m usually the one who does introductions. These are my fellow scouts Mal, Molly, Ripley, and April.”
“Hi.” They all waved nervously.
“So.” Jo considered the best approach, having never spoken to a moon pirate before. “We just wanted to say that we’ve had an amazing time with Castor, and we think she’s really smart and she would make a great scout.”
Captain Elara flicked her jeweled tail and snorted. “SCOUT?” she sneered. “SCOUT? BLASPHEMOUS! Castor is a PIRATE!”
The row of pirates behind her nodded in unison.
“A PIRATE,” Elara’s jewels shook, “is a serious occupation!”
The row of pirates nodded again.
“Hear, hear,” one squeaked.
“Ahem,” Jo coughed.
“You humans wouldn’t know anything about it,” Captain Elara grumbled. “Frittering your days away. The CHEESE is WASTED on you.”
April looked at Jo. “Yeek.”
“Castor, you get your tail on board that ship right now,” Elara said, pointing with a ringed paw at the Luna. “I’ve had it up to my hat with this nonsense.”
Castor turned back to her adopted cabin. “I can’t apologize enough,” she said, in a low squeak. “Thank you so much for everything. Thank you for the vest, Ripley. I had . . . fun. Really.”
Ripley sniffed and waved. “Bye, Castor.”
And with that, Castor turned and padded past her mother and toward the ship, ears pressed against her head, through the line of mice lined up outside the ship, all tut-tutting.
“Great Neptune and all its ice formations, Castor, where is your coat?” Elara frowned, watching Castor go. “Is that DENIM?”
“It’s no fair,” Ripley said, her chin pressed to her chest. “We were just starting to have fun.”
There once was a scout who only knew what she wanted to eat when it was on someone else’s plate. Which was annoying, but sometimes it is easier to see things clearly when they are outside yourself, walking a long, sad walk onto an otherwise miraculous piece of machinery.
Jo pressed her lips together.
Castor, she thought, should not have to leave.
Who said being a scout didn’t have some connection to something as awesome as destiny?
No one Jo had heard of.
Actually, the letter began, if we’re talking about greatness and how to get there, which it seems we are . . .
But Jo was not listening.
“You know what? Fun is important,” Jo said to herself, stepping forward. “FUN. IS. IMPORTANT. TOO.”
“CAPTAIN ELARA!” Jo shouted.
“Oh, WHAT IS IT NOW?” Captain Elara snapped, flustered.
Jo stood straight and tall. “I think Castor should be allowed to stay. I think being allowed to have a little fun is more important than you think. I think fun . . .”
April bit her lip.
Ripley beamed.
“Is awesome.” Jo finished.
Captain Elara waved her hand at Jo, as though trying to wave her away. “Castor is destined for serious things. She needs to focus on serious things. This is no place for a future captain.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Jo said. “I think this is exactly where Castor should be.”
“Oh, do you now?” Captain Elara smiled, revealing a diamond-studded set of front teeth. “How much are you willing to wager on it?”
CHAPTER 29
Of the battles a Lumberjane will face, a battle of wits is perhaps the most important. (One of the longest battles of wits in Lumberjanes history took place over a decade and involved two scouts, one of whom is currently known as Bearwoman.
Over the years, it was often unclear as to who was winning this battle of wits, or even who was still playing.
In the end, the battle was won with four simple words: “I told you so.”
I won’t say who won, as winning, as we’ve said, is not necessarily as important as having fun.)
Anyway.
A battle of wits is a battle without weapons. It is a battle of brains.
And not even book brains, but thinking brains.
A thinking brain can go anywhere and do anything.
A thinking brain is a valuable thing.
Captain Elara knew this. As did Jo.
“If I can solve your riddle, and you can’t solve mine,” Jo proposed, “Castor stays.”
“Indeed. And if I can solve yours, and you cannot solve mine . . .” Elara ran a claw over a long, golden whisker, “Castor leaves AND you all hand over YOUR ENTIRE LARDER OF CHEESE.”
Mal whistled.
“No tacos, no pizza, no enchiladas, no grilled cheese for the rest of the summer.” Ripley gulped.
“Double yeek,” Mal added.
“If only we were lactose intolerant and didn’t care about such things,” April sighed.
“We gotta do it,
” Ripley said. “We just gotta.”
Everyone nodded vigorously. YES.
“Watch out,” Castor said, darting over to whisper. “My mother is renowned across the universe for her riddling skills. She once made the regal Dauphin of Neptune cry when she beat him four out of five.”
“We’re in,” Jo announced, standing tall in front of her cabin. “Captains first.”
“Very well.” Standing in front of her ship, the great Captain Elara posed two of her crew side by side.
She clapped her jeweled paws together twice and each mouse assumed a guard’s stiff stance, swords pointed into the ground, chins up, ears back, and eyes staring straight ahead.
“Standing before you are two mice guarding two doors,” the captain began. “One mouse guards the door to cheese. The other mouse guards the door to the place where there is never cheese.”
“That’s not Gouda,” April said quietly.
“The mouse guarding the door to cheese will always tell the truth, and the mouse guarding the door to the place where there is never cheese will always lie. BUT! In appearance, they are indistinguishable.”
The two mice synchronously spun their swords and stared grimly forward.
Captain Elara stepped toward Roanoke, her claw outstretched. “You may ask either guard ONE QUESTION and ONE QUESTION ONLY to discover the door leading to cheese. THEN you must tell me which door you chose.”
“Right,” Jo said, turning to the rest of the scouts. “Thoughts?”
Molly took Mal’s hand. “What do you think?”
Mal shook her head. “I can’t think. I just need to pass my badge. After that I can do this.”
“You can do it now,” Molly insisted, pulling Mal into a hug. “Mal, you’re awesome at music AND you like solving puzzles AND you’re funny.”
Mal blushed. “I’m funny?”
Molly smiled. “And you have really cool style.”
Mal turned and looked at the two mice. Then she turned back to Molly. “I thought I was good at music. I was wrong.”
Molly grabbed Mal by the shoulders and squeezed her tight. “You weren’t wrong,” she said. “‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ is a really hard song.”
And with that Molly placed a very tiny kiss on the tip of Mal’s nose.
“Aw.” April smiled.
“Come on, Mal,” Jo said. “You can do this.”
Mal stepped forward. Looked at one mouse. Then the other.
Suddenly, Mal smiled a big toothy Mal smile. The kind of smile that lights up a room like a light bulb or a lightning strike.
“I’ve got it,” she said.
Mal turned to the mouse on the right. “If I ask the other mouse which door leads to cheese, which door would they point to?”
The mouse frowned. “The other mouse would say that the door behind me goes to cheese.”
Mal turned back, beaming. “That’s it!” she said, bouncing up and down. “No matter what the answer, the door that gets pointed to will lead to the place with no cheese! The lying mouse will LIE and point to the door that DOESN’T lead to cheese. The honest mouse will tell the truth and point to the door that the lying mouse would say leads to cheese, which will lead to a place where there is never cheese. So no matter what, it’s the other door.”
One of Ripley’s eyes got really big. “Uhhhhhh.”
“That sounds right to me,” Jo said.
“Provolone it.” April grinned.
“It’s this door,” Mal said, pointing to the door on the left.
The mouse on the left bowed low. “Madam is correct.”
“Well done,” Captain Elara sniffed. “But I warn you, fooling me will NOT be easy.”
CHAPTER 30
“How is this even a fair contest?” Captain Elara drawled. “A clump of scouts facing off against me, the captain, well versed in all manner of academics, tried and tested by years on the celestial seas. I don’t know if you know that I made the Dauphin cry once many moons ago.”
“We heard,” Ripley said. “Poor Dauphin.”
“This had better be good.” Molly bit her lip.
Jo pressed her finger to her lips.
As sometimes happens when you do this, Jo’s brain was suddenly pinged with a memory, an answer to a question she’d forgotten she’d even asked.
“Hey,” she said, turning to April. “I just remembered the name of our favorite game.”
April looked up. “Which game?”
“Remember we were talking in the cabin, about games from when we were kids?” Jo smiled. “THE MOON IS UP!”
“Oh my AMY POEHLER, THAT’S IT!” April grabbed Jo’s arm and started jumping up and down.
“For this riddle,” Jo said, turning to Captain Elara, “we will all kneel in a circle.”
The mice looked at Captain Elara, confused.
“Just do it,” Captain Elara sighed, twisting her hand in the air like a bored windmill.
“All of us,” April said, running forward and herding the mice into a large ring. “Come on, don’t be shy.”
Once they had all assembled, Jo took a saber from one of the mice and held it in the air. “Today we are going to play a Lumberjane classic, THE MOON IS UP. It is required of all playing to correctly place the sabre so that the MOON IS UP.”
Jo took her spot kneeling with the rest of the campers. “You have one round to figure it out, Captain,” she said. “And so . . .”
Jo held up the sabre high. “THE MOON,” she called, leaning forward and placing the sabre on the grass in front of her, “IS UP.”
April took the sabre next. She held it even higher. “THE MOOOOOON!” she trilled, placing the sabre down so that her chin was almost on the ground. “IS UP!”
The mice watched in confusion, twitching whiskers and tails, sniffing the air curiously.
“The MOON!” Mal picked up the sabre, spun it several times, and placed it on the ground, pointed to the left. “IS UP.”
One of the mice took the sabre and placed it on the ground. “The moon is up?”
“The moon is not up,” Jo said solemnly.
Another burly mouse with black stripes on his ears and a gold coat grabbed the sabre. “GIVE ME THAT.” He placed it on the ground, crouching. “The moon is up?”
“The moon is up!” Ripley cheered.
“HO HO!” The mouse chortled, smiling hopefully at his captain. “The captain will surely win now.”
“This makes about as much sense as a moon mole cartwheel,” Captain Elara huffed.
It all looked the same from where Elara was standing. Some mice put the sabre down lengthwise, some longwise. That didn’t seem to affect whether the moon was up. Putting the sabre down soft or with a thud didn’t matter, either. One mouse yelled THE MOON IS UP and the other whispered. And in both cases, the moon was not up.
“What is this ridiculous game?” Captain Elara snarled, her diamond teeth flashing.
“All games require skill,” Jo noted. “Skills come in all shapes and sizes.”
“Like pies,” Ripley added. “And cupcakes. And swimsuits.”
“See if you can do it,” April said, gesturing to the ground.
“Humph.” The Captain gently lowered herself to her knees and took the sabre in hand. She held the sabre high in the sky, “The moon is up!”
Still kneeling, she placed the sword on the ground.
Jo shook her head. “The moon is not up.”
“Well, it’s completely barnacle.” Captain Elara scrambled to her feet.
“I think I have it,” Castor said, stepping toward the circle and taking the sabre.
Kneeling on the ground, Castor placed the sword in front of her. Jutting her tail up into the air, she cried, “The moon is up!”
“That’s right!” Jo whistled.
“HO HO HO! I’ve got it! It’s the sabre!” Captain Elara proclaimed, snatching the sabre from Castor’s paws. “The sabre must be pointing at the moon. Victory is mine!”
“Nope.” Castor grabbed the
sword back and placed it on the ground, crouching forward. “You’ve lost, Mother. The moon is your bottom. When your tail is up, the moon is up.”
“That,” Captain Elara sniffed, “is disgusting.”
“Yeah it’s kind of an off-color example of camp humor,” Jo admitted. “But, all the same, we win.”
“HA HA!” Ripley grabbed Castor by the arms and swung her around gleefully. “WE WIN WITH FUN!”
“We won with butts!” Mal cheered.
“YAY BUTTS!” Molly whooped.
Ripley jumped up in a full shooting star. “CASTOR STAYS!”
CHAPTER 31
It was a curiously peaceful day at Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s camp for Hard-core Lady-Types.
An assortment of birds sang from their perches in the pines of the forest.
It was the first day after Castor’s last day at camp. Her mother had agreed to let her stay for two orbits, which is about six days of Lumberjane time.
Six days turned out to be enough time for Castor to complete her Sew Be It badge, as well as her View to a Kiln badge, and it turned out she was a natural at stitching and pottery, both. She also took her Will You Weave Mine badge, making a little moon-shaped carpet for Roanoke cabin, and her Just Bead It badge, during which she enjoyed countless hours stringing tiny glass beads into endless orbits that now decorated almost every cabin.
Castor, it turned out, was a natural crafter, assisted in her beading projects by her nimble and tiny paws.
She even took a That’s How the Cookie Crumbles badge with Barney, even though none of the cookies had cheese in them.
It was only six days, Lumberjane time, which is kind of short for a summer, but for Castor it felt like everything. It felt like a lifetime.
Time is a funny thing, Jo thought.
Mal and Molly were now working on their Bang the Drum badges, along with Marcy and Maxine P. from Woolpit, who had emerged as the victors of Galaxy Wars and were all sporting their new fancy space pins.
Thump thump thump thump
Thump thump thump thump
“It’s like the rhythm of your body,” Kzzyzy, both cook and the drum instructor, explained. “You have to hear your rhythms.”
Lumberjanes: The Moon Is Up Page 9