Poppy and Ereth (5 page)

I'
M STILL ALIVE
!
thought Poppy, even though she opened her eyes to complete blackness. Luci had not crashed into the stone cliff and they were still flying, but in a deeper darkness than Poppy had ever experienced. What's more, it was exceedingly cold.

“Hello! Luci!” she called. “Where are we?”

“Home,” squeaked Luci.

“Where's home?” asked Poppy.

“Our cave.”

“Is it big?”

“I guess,” said Luci.

“Where are we going now?”

“Actually, Miss Poppy, I'm going to set you down,” said the bat. “I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you're heavy.”

“That sounds wonderful,” said Poppy, wanting nothing
more than to feel solid earth under her paws. Her back was getting a little sore, too.

She sensed they were descending. Then her toes touched the ground.

“Are you all right?” the bat asked as she released Poppy.

“I think so,” Poppy answered, a little breathless as she tried to stand on wobbly legs. Since she could not see anything, she felt about where she had landed. The surface was hard, with a cold, slippery dampness.

“Be back soon!” cried Luci. “Don't go anywhere!”

“But…!”

Poppy heard a flutter of wings, followed by a
whoosh
of wind—then silence. Presumably, the young bat was gone—though Poppy had not actually seen her go.

Trembling slightly with the chill, Poppy smoothed out her whiskers, flicked her ears, shook out her tail, and took a deep breath.
What a strange experience!
she thought as her heart resumed its normal rhythm.
First flying. Then to come to a place I can't see, surrounded by I don't know what, and not knowing what's going to happen next. I'd hide, but it's hard to hide since I can't see where I am to begin with.

“Oh well,” she said, finding comfort in talking aloud. “I am alive. I helped Ereth get out of that mud. I've experienced being in the sky. That bat did not eat me. I've gotten away from the terrible heat. Nothing bad in any of that.
As for Luci, what a pleasant name for such a creature. And actually, she's nice too. For a bat.”

Poppy considered the question of other bats.
Perhaps not all bats are so friendly. What if Luci went to get them? No, I don't think I should relax too much.

“Hello!” came a squeak close to her ears. “I'm back!”

Startled, Poppy gazed in the direction of the voice. “Who…who's there?” she asked.

“It's me, Miss Poppy. Luci.”

“Oh,” said Poppy. “I…I was wondering where you went. Are you…alone?”

“I fetched Mom,” said Luci. “I really wanted her to meet you. She's right here.”

“Hello,” Poppy said, thinking how odd it was to greet someone she could not see. “My name is Poppy. I'm a deer mouse,” she added in haste, wanting to make clear that she was
not
a moth. “I'm very pleased to meet you.”

“How do you do, Miss Poppy?” returned a voice, high-pitched like Luci's. “My name is Miranda. Luci's mother. I hope you'll forgive her.” The bat giggled. “She told me she thought you were a moth. We bats do of course eat insects: mosquitoes, moths, dragonflies, and the odd beetle, that sort of thing. Perhaps an occasional nip of nectar. But no mice,” she said, giggling. “Oh my, gracious no.”

“That's what Luci explained,” said Poppy, wanting to
be as friendly as possible. “And, Miranda—may I call you that?—I do know the young make mistakes. I've had a few children myself.”

“How many?” asked Miranda.

“Eleven.”

“
Eleven
?” cried the bat, laughing. “Luci! Did you hear? Eleven children! Oh my! One a year is good enough for me, thank you. So far, just five. But eleven! The most astonishing thing I've ever heard.” She laughed again.

Poppy, wondering what was so funny, only said, “Do you think it might be possible for me to get out of this cave?”

“You'd have to fly.”

Poppy recognized Luci's voice.

“I'm sure Luci can take you back,” Miranda said. “However, I think our little Luci is all tuckered out for today. You know, a first flight is always an exhausting adventure.” She laughed. “Imagine Luci thinking you a moth! Anyway, tomorrow evening would be best. Now then, Miss Poppy, as for sleep, you're welcome to join us.”

“How many of you are there?” asked Poppy.

“Oh, I couldn't even begin to count,” said Miranda.

“If you join us, you'll see. It's very cozy,” said Luci. “But you'll have to hang yourself.”

“Hang myself?” said Poppy.

“Hold yourself on the wall.”

“Thank you,” said Poppy in haste. “I better stay here.”

“Okay, then,” said Miranda. “We'll see you tomorrow.”

Next moment, Poppy heard a flutter of wings. She stared into the darkness. “Is…anybody here?”

“Just me,” said Luci. “Miss Poppy, I just wanted to say again how dumb I was for thinking you were a moth. Can I help you with anything now?” she asked.

“Is there something to eat?” said Poppy.

“What do mice eat?”

“Seeds.”

“Oh dear,” said Luci. “I don't think we have any. Sorry! See you later. Bye!”

Poppy heard her flap into the air.

“What about some water?” Poppy called out. “I think I heard water trickling nearby!”

“Right over there!” came a distant call.

“Right over
where
?” No answer came. “Luci?” called Poppy. “Luci!”

But the young bat had apparently gone.

For a few moments, Poppy peered into the darkness. “Nothing to see,” she whispered, though she did feel an occasional slight drift of cold air. “Nothing to eat.” She listened hard, too, but aside from a tiny splash of water coming from somewhere, she felt surrounded by a great hollowness.

“No one to talk to, either.” She sighed. “I'm not sure if I
should be frightened or not.”

Since there was nothing to do but await Luci's return, Poppy curled up in a ball on the cold ground, tucked her nose into her belly, and wrapped her tail around herself. As she closed her eyes, she recalled how earlier that same day she'd wished that she were cool and that her life would change.

She sighed and, though feeling increasingly drowsy, said, “I certainly got my wish.”

H
IGH OVER
D
IMWOOD
F
OREST
, in the swirling mists of the night's deep darkness—very much higher than Poppy had flown—the day's thick humidity caused clouds, clogged with drought dust, to gather. The dust particles turned, tossed, and tumbled, rubbing one against another, and by so doing, charged the clouds with electricity. The electricity grew until it needed to release.

Atop Bannock Hill, on the hazelnut tree, hung Ragweed's earring. The earring's loop of metal was isolated enough, high enough, to draw lightning like a magnet.

With a great
crack!
a bolt of lightning shot from the clouds down toward the earring at enormous speed. When it struck, the earring's purple bead exploded into dust and its metal wire instantly vaporized into a shower of tiny sparks.

One solitary spark landed on a dry leaf. The leaf began
to smolder. When the smoldering leaf became hot enough, it burst into a small bud of flame.

And continued to burn.

A second leaf soon caught fire…. And then a third. And then a fourth…a tiny blaze in the dark night.

E
RETH DID NOT SLEEP
much that night. He got up, he lay down, he turned around in circles, all the while wishing night would last forever. When day arrived, he would have to inform Poppy's family about what had happened to her. The mere thought of it made him moan. “Cauliflower Ca—No! No more swearing!” he cried. “Never again!”

Twice during the night, Ereth heard thunder rumble. Once, while squatting by the entryway to his log, he saw and heard a crack of lightning. Agitated, he listened for the sound of falling rain. None came. “Just lightning.” He sighed. “No rain. No Poppy…only misery.”

Through half-lidded eyes, the exhausted porcupine watched the eastern sky's gray glow proclaim the day's
new dawn. As the light grew stronger, birds began to chirp their reedy songs. Rays of sunlight sliced through the forest like flaming swords. The long shadows cast by the forest's tall trees gradually withdrew, as if sliding back into their own roots. And slowly but with certainty, the morning heat proclaimed another scorching day.

Weary and tense, a panting Ereth closed his eyes. “I must tell them. Now.”

He got up slowly, feeling a deep hunger. The only thing he had eaten the day before was a solitary dry twig. He searched his log but discovered nothing to eat. “Salt,” he whimpered. “I need some salt!”

Having run out of excuses, the porcupine waddled out of his log. He blinked at the hot, bright sun and scanned the sky in search of clouds. Not one was in sight. “Bright is bad,” said Ereth. “Night is nice. I don't have to look at anything.” Then he muttered, “And no one can see me.”

He gazed at Poppy's snag. Oh, how lovely it would be if his friend came strolling out as she had done so many times. She'd give a cheerful wave and cry, “Good morning, Ereth!” Perhaps she'd ask about him. Perhaps a tiny, damp kiss on his nose.

Ereth's vision became so blurry with tears he could almost see Poppy standing right in front of him. He closed his eyes.

“Good morning, Uncle Ereth!”

Ereth blinked open his eyes. There before him was Ragweed Junior. One of Junior's children was with him.
To Ereth, the youngster looked just like Junior.

Ereth glared at the mice. At that moment he
hated
Junior. Hated all mice who weren't his beloved friend!

“Hey, Uncle Ereth,” said Junior. “This heat sure is something awful, isn't it? Did you catch that lightning last night? Came close. Maybe before the day is out we'll finally get some rain.”

“I suppose…,” Ereth mumbled, only to retreat into silence.

“This is my son Spruce,” Junior went on, bringing the young mouse forward. “I don't think you ever met him. Thought it was about time. Spruce, say hello to Uncle Ereth. He's Grandma Poppy's best friend. “

“'Lo,” said Spruce, staring up in awe at the porcupine.

“Seems Spruce and Poppy have become great friends, too,” said Junior. “He's bringing her a nut he found.”

Spruce held up a half-eaten nut.

Ereth frowned.

“Is something the matter, Uncle Ereth?” said Junior. “You look like…you're in pain.”

Suppressing a swear, Ereth said, “Why did you come here?”

“Like I said, we've come over to see Poppy. Thought we'd say hello to you, too.”

“P-Poppy…,” Ereth stammered, “isn't here.”

“Oh? She out?” asked Junior. “Gone off somewhere? Any idea where? When she'll be back?”

Ereth cleared his throat. “Last time I saw her,” he said, “she…she was…d—” He could not get the fatal word out. Instead he said, “She was flying.”

Spruce stared at Ereth and then turned to look up at his father. “Dad, did…Uncle Ereth say Grandma was…flying?”

Junior did not seem to hear his son's question. To Ereth he said, “My mom was…
what
?”

“Flying.”

“
Flying?
Where?”

“In the sky!” snapped Ereth. “Where else would she fly?”

Junior gazed at the porcupine. “Uncle Ereth,” he said after a moment, “has the heat gotten to you? It makes some dizzy. Confused. Especially old guys.”

“I am
not
old!” Ereth barked.

The force of Ereth's words made Spruce back up a step and press against his father, but he never took his eyes off the porcupine.

“No, of course not,” said Junior. “Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Well, I guess Spruce and I had better get going. Come on, pal.” The two mice moved toward Poppy's snag.

Spruce, staying close to his father, kept glancing back over his shoulder at Ereth, a perplexed look on his face.

“I'm telling you!” Ereth cried after them. “She's not there.”

“That's okay,” Junior called back. “We'll just check for ourselves.”

“Maybe she is there,” Ereth whispered under his breath. He allowed himself a stirring of hope.

He watched closely as Junior and Spruce went inside the snag. He was still looking when, a few moments later, the two came back out, alone. As the mice returned to him, Ereth glanced away.

“Guess you're right, Uncle Ereth,” said Junior. “She's not there. Doesn't look like she packed up, either. Must have gone in a hurry because things were just left about. Really, have you any idea where Poppy went or…or when she might be coming back?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” said Ereth. “The…last time I saw her…she was…she was flying straight up into the sky.”

“Dad,” Spruce whispered, loud enough for Ereth to hear, “I think he really did say that Grandma Poppy was flying.”

“Yes!” bellowed Ereth. “That's what I said!”

“Uncle Ereth, please, you don't have to yell. Just explain yourself.”

Ereth gulped a draught of hot air, then said, “Yesterday I went down to Glitter Creek to take a bath but instead I almost drowned in the mud and called for help, so of course Poppy came and helped
me—she
cares for me—which I was grateful for except the next thing I knew she was gone. Vanished. Then I saw something that looked like her flying straight up in the air. Which is to say I'm pretty
sure I did see her…” Ereth faltered.

Junior's whiskers trembled visibly. “Saw…
what
?”

“Poppy's…ghost,” said Ereth, barely whispering.

“Her…
ghost
?” exclaimed Junior.

“Yes!” screamed Ereth at the top of his voice. “Poppy's
ghost
!”

“Are you trying to tell me” said Junior, “that Poppy's…ghost went flying into the sky, which would mean that she must have…?”

“Died!” yelled the porcupine. “Yes! Died saving me! Who else would she have died for?”

Junior stared up at the porcupine. “Mom?
Dead
?”

Ereth looked everywhere except at Junior.

Spruce broke the heavy silence that followed. “Dad,” he whispered, “is Uncle Ereth saying Grandma Poppy…
died
?”

“Shhh!” Junior said gently. But to Ereth he spoke with some severity. “Uncle Ereth,
is
that what you're saying?”

“Yes!” cried Ereth. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“I…I can't believe it,” stammered Junior.

“Dad, how could Grandma be dead?” interjected Spruce. “I just met her.”

“Then how else,” said Ereth, still gasping from the effort of his long explanation, “can you explain the fact that I saw
her ghost soaring up into the sky?”

“But where…when…how?” Junior continued to stammer.

Trying to keep from bursting into tears, Ereth slowly repeated the events of his trip to Glitter Creek.

“Uncle Ereth,” said Junior, now speaking in a soft, pleading voice, “are you…absolutely certain…you saw Poppy's…
ghost
?”

“How many times must I say
yes
?” cried Ereth.

Junior turned to Spruce. “Spruce,” he said. “I think we need to go.” To Ereth he said, “I'll check Poppy's snag again more thoroughly and see if she left some kind of message.” Not waiting for a reply, he turned and led Spruce away.

Ereth watched them go. Then he gazed up at the sky, as if Poppy might be there. The sky was blue and cloudless, and
the air so hot it seemed to quiver before his eyes. He felt dizzy. Sick. Miserable. The whole world—including him—was turning old. Drying up! He swished his tail and ground his teeth. He wanted to bite something or somebody. To swear. All he did in the end, however, was to turn slowly about and make his way into the deep, dark end of his log. There he hunkered down, trying desperately to understand what he should do.

“I need to make everyone know how much I cared for Poppy,” he whispered at last. “I'm the only one who really knew and understood her. The only one who truly loved her. How am I going to show that?” He thought hard. “I know! A funeral service! That's what I'll do for her. Yes! The biggest, best, most beautiful funeral service this forest has ever seen.”

“Uncle Ereth?”

With a start, Ereth looked up. Spruce had come into the log. The young mouse held a paw to his nose.

“What's the matter with your nose?” Ereth demanded.

Spruce said, “It stinks in here.”

“Never mind stinks,” Ereth snapped. “Did you find anything about Poppy?”

“Dad is still looking,” said Spruce. “Uncle Ereth, do you really, really think Grandma Poppy was flying?”

“Her ghost was.”

“Then I think she's fine,” said Spruce.

“How could she be fine?” demanded Ereth, quite sure this was the most irritating mouse he had ever met.

Before Spruce could reply, Junior came into the log. “I'm afraid you must be right, Uncle Ereth. Not one sign of her.” He sighed. “I'll need to tell my brothers and sisters. The rest of the family too.”

“Good idea,” said Ereth, relieved that he would not have to do the task. Junior turned to go.

“Hold it!” cried Ereth.

Junior and Spruce stopped.

“What about a funeral service?”

“I guess,” said Junior, “but…”

“Your family will want something,” insisted the porcupine. “The whole family could gather. Pay their respects.”

“Well,
if
what you say is true, but—”

“It is true!” said Ereth with something like anger. “I'll organize it.”

“Uncle Ereth, I need to check some more. But I'm sure it would be kind of you. You were her best friend. And if Poppy really…died…I'm sure the whole family would appreciate it.”

“I'll give a speech about her.”

“Sure. Something short,” said Junior. “I imagine my brothers and sisters will want to speak too. Uncle Ereth,
could you truly arrange things?”

“Of course,” muttered Ereth.

“Thank you,” said Junior. He went out of the log, Spruce by his side.

As the two mice left the log, Ereth heard the youngster say, “Don't worry, Dad. I'm going to find her.”