Poppy and Ereth (12 page)

E
RETH HAD INFORMED
J
UNIOR
about the dell that he had selected for Poppy's funeral service. Junior, agreeing, said, “There will be at least a hundred of Poppy's closest and dearest relations. The ones who loved her most. Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren. Which is to say, everyone.”

Ereth, thinking
I loved her most
, smiled.

“And Uncle Ereth,” Junior reminded the porcupine, “you will make just a
few
opening remarks, won't you? The rest of the family, my brothers and sisters, want to speak.”

Ereth continued to smile.

Junior considered him with some puzzlement. “Uncle Ereth, are you all right?”

“Of course I am!” cried the porcupine. “Why are you asking?”

“Because you are, well, smiling. And you never smile. It looks…somewhat…odd.”

“I don't care what it looks like. I am smiling because I want to!” Ereth snarled through his smile.

“But this is such a sad time. Why are you smiling…now?”

“If I want to be sad by smiling, then I'll smile!” shouted Ereth. And he put his paws into his mouth and pulled the corners of his lips to either side so as to make the widest grin possible.

Junior considered the porcupine. “And, I just realized, you're not swearing either.”

“Listen here, you pickled—”

“Pickled what?”

Ereth smiled broadly. “Never mind.”

“Fine with me,” said Junior, shaking his head. “We'll have the service today, at twilight. It should be a little cooler by then.”

He turned away but glanced back.

Ereth leaned forward and grinned at him.

When Junior returned home, he told Laurel about the arrangements Ereth had made for the service later that day.

After listening, Laurel said, “Junior, do you have any idea where Spruce is? I haven't seen him for quite a while.”

Laurel and Junior asked their children if any of them knew where Spruce had gone.

Clover said, “He went to find Grandma Poppy.”

“Poppy!” said Junior. “Why would he do that?”

“He said she went flying somewhere.”

Junior sighed. “Did he say where he was going to look?”

“Glitter Creek.”

“Are you sure?”

Dogbane said, “I was going with him, but then I decided to come home. He kept going.”

Junior conferred with Laurel. “Glitter Creek is a long way off,” he said to Laurel. “I'm not even sure he's been there before.”

“Now, Junior, you know how often Spruce has taken off on his own. I wish his brothers and sisters were as independent. And he always gets back safely, doesn't he?”

“But Poppy's funeral service is going to start soon. He doesn't know anything about it.”

“We'll leave Dogbane here,” suggested a calm Laurel. “When Spruce returns, the two of them can come along to the dell together. Now, I think you'd best consider what you're going to say at the funeral, and don't worry about Spruce.”

I
T WAS A VERY FRIGHTENED
S
PRUCE
who crouched in the hole beneath a rock, wishing someone were with him, wishing he were home, wishing he had never come. Every few moments he crept to the mouth of the hole and peeked out. All he could be sure of was that the smoke was getting thicker.

Maybe,
he considered,
it would be better if I went down deeper.
But even as he began to retreat, he heard the sound of galloping pass by, followed by a soft
plop!

Then—silence.

Spruce was afraid to move.
It's some animal,
he thought.
A big animal. It was running. I bet it was running from the fire. The way the rabbit was running. Maybe I shouldn't be hiding, just running.

He listened hard, straining to hear if the animal was still there.

Hearing nothing, Spruce crawled to the top of the hole and carefully peeked out. Though there was a lot of smoke, he saw nothing of the fire. But he did hear crackling, which told him the fire was close. Then he noticed something on the path. He stared at it. It was a mouse.

Next moment Spruce's heart seemed to turn over. “It's Grandma Poppy!” he shouted. “She's landed!” And he leaped out of the hole and ran to her side.

“Grandma Poppy?” he cried, leaning over her. “Are you all right? What was flying like?”

When she did not reply, the terrified mouse looked toward the creek. He saw flames coming toward him. They were spreading quickly in all directions—including his—snapping and snarling like the angriest of animals.

“Grandma!” cried Spruce. “You have to get up!”

Poppy stirred and blinked open her eyes. “Spruce!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”

“I came looking for you,” said the young mouse.

“Thank you. But why?”

“Uncle Ereth said you flew away. Did you?”

“In a way, yes.” Poppy sat up and looked around. “Where's Bounder?”

“Who?”

“The fox who was taking me to warn the family about the fire.”

“A fox?” cried Spruce. “Oh wow! Do you have a friend who is a fox?”

“I suppose you might say so. I fell off. He must not have noticed.” She considered Spruce. “I'm glad he didn't.”

Poppy stood up, gave herself a shake, and then looked in the direction of the fire. The flames were much closer. “Spruce!” she said. “We need to get home fast. To warn the family.”

“I know. But, Grandma, I did find you, didn't I?”

“You certainly did,” said Poppy, with another look
at the fire. “Now let's run.”

“Okay.”

They ran down the path at full speed. When they paused to catch their breaths, Spruce asked, “How did you learn to fly?”

“Actually it wasn't me who did the flying, but a bat.”

“A bat!” cried Spruce, his eyes very big. “Do you have a bat friend, too?”

Instead of answering, Poppy looked to see how far the fire had reached. For the moment they were safe, but she was quite sure their time was short.

“Would they take me flying, too?” Spruce asked.

“I'm sure they will. Now, less talk. We need to go very fast!”

It was Ereth's log that they reached first. Poppy turned to Spruce. “Run home to your father and mother,” she said. “Tell them about the fire. I'll be right there.”

The young mouse raced away, calling, “Dad! Mom! Everybody! I found Grandma! I really did! She really was flying. With her bat friend! I'm going to fly, too.”

Poppy, meanwhile, plunged into Ereth's log. “Ereth!” she called. “Are you in here? You need to get out!”

When no reply came, she ran inside, only to discover that the log was deserted. She dashed out and saw Spruce
running toward her. Dogbane was with him. When Dogbane saw Poppy, he stopped.

“There's no one home,” cried Spruce. “Except Dogbane with a message for me.”

“What's the message?” asked Poppy.

Dogbane, still staring at Poppy, said, “Everybody's gone to the dell.”

“Who is everybody?”

“The whole family.”

“Why are they doing that?” asked Poppy.

“It's…well…,” stammered Dogbane. “It's…your funeral.”

Poppy stood speechless.

Spruce tugged on her. “Grandma,” he said, “if it's your funeral, aren't you supposed to be there?”

E
RETH WAS THE FIRST
to arrive at the site of Poppy's funeral. “I'm the mourner in chief,” he muttered. “I
should
be the first one.” He was determined not to budge from his speaking post. No mouse would take his place! Front paws folded under his chest, he gazed at nothing and practiced his smile.

The sky turned quite hazy until it became so overcast Ereth was sure it was going to rain. Except there was not the slightest scent of rain in the air. On the contrary, it felt drier and hotter than it had all summer. The porcupine lifted his nose and sniffed. There was a strange smell in the air, but nothing he could place.

The day's light was beginning to fade when Junior, along with his brothers and sisters—Mariposa, Snowberry,
Walnut, Columbine, Sassafras, Crab Grass, Pipsissewa, Verbena, Scrub Oak, and Locust—and their spouses, and all their children, and their children's children made their way into the dell. As they came, Ereth stared straight ahead, with only an occasional twitch of his tail and a curt nod to the few mice he knew by name. To all he offered what he considered his best smile.

The mice who knew Ereth kept looking at him. He could hear them twitter: “What's Ereth smiling about?” “It can't be a smile.” “Ereth never smiles.”

The younger mice stared up at Ereth, too, speaking to one another in whispered undertones.

“There's the great Ereth.”

“Wow! Poppy's best friend!”

“If he was Poppy's best friend, and this is her funeral, how come he's smiling like that?”

“Maybe he's going to throw up.”

“Hey, guess what? Have you heard? Spruce is missing.”

Ereth heard these words, but he remained quite still and continued to smile.

Junior climbed onto the rock and whispered into Ereth's ear, “Uncle Ereth, I think everyone is here. We should begin.”

“Fine,” replied Ereth, smiling.

“Uncle Ereth,” Junior whispered, “you haven't seen Spruce around, have you?”

“No.”

“I'm afraid he's wandered off. One of his brothers said he went looking for Poppy.”

“He'll never find her,” said Ereth, smiling broader.

“Well, you better begin,” said Junior. “Better keep it to a few remarks, okay? I'll speak next. Then some of my brothers and sisters want to speak. But Uncle Ereth?”

“What?”

“Really, why are you smiling?”

“Want to.”

“It's…well…strange.”

“Beat it!” snarled the grinning porcupine, and Junior stepped away from the stone, but, along with his siblings, stayed close.

Ereth sat up. “Okay,” he shouted, loud enough for all in the dell to hear. “It's time we began.”

Almost two hundred mice stopped their conversations
and stared up at Ereth, their ears cocked forward, with an occasional twitch of a tail.

“My name,” began the porcupine, “is Ereth. I suppose you know that. You should know it. If you don't, I'd have to ask why you haven't been paying attention. Anyway, this is all about…Poppy. We all know…knew…Poppy. But no one knew her better than me, since—”

When Ereth paused to catch his breath, Laurel whispered to Junior, “That's not a very nice thing to say.”

“The point is,” Ereth went on, “Junior asked me to make a few remarks. I suppose I could give a brief summary of Poppy's life. All about her parents, Lungwort and Sweet
Cecily. Where she was raised, Gray House. I could mention Ragweed, too. Briefly.

“I don't know why, but Poppy always thought Ragweed was something special. Not that
I
ever met him. Wish I had. I'd have given him a quill up the snoot.”

Pipsissewa turned to Verbena. “That's so rude!”

Ereth continued. “That Ragweed, he was always mixed up in things. Even after he died. Don't exactly know how. Or why. But he was.” Ereth shook his head.

“Or,” he continued, “I suppose I could tell you about Poppy and that owl, Mr. Ocax. Of course, if she hadn't met
me
, things would have been very different. Because it was with one of
my
quills and
my
advice that she defeated him.”

“I thought this was going to be short,” Laurel said into Junior's ear.

“So naturally,” Ereth went on, “you'll want to know how she met
me,
how
I
was able to encourage her, give her a sense of the real world, get her to grow up.”

Ereth put his paws into his mouth and grinned while gazing down at the puzzled eyes of the mice.

“Let me see if I can get him to stop,” said Junior. He began to move forward.

Ereth, seeing Junior coming toward him, hurried on.
“But then I could explain how Poppy asked
me
to go with her on a trip to tell Ragweed's parents how Ragweed died. Naturally,
I
went. And that's how, because of that trip, of which
I
was in charge, she met Rye. Fell in love with him. Married him. Not that
I
understood why. I could mention Rye's poetry. But I don't want to because I couldn't stand it.”

Junior was now close to Ereth. “Uncle Ereth…,” he whispered.

“Buzz off, fur ball,” muttered Ereth, and went on. “I could tell you,” he said, louder than before, “in case you never heard it, about the great battle with the beavers. If it hadn't been for
me,
all of Ragweed's family—Rye's family—would have been beaten up. Fortunately
I was
there. Gave those beavers a few pokes. That battle made it possible for Poppy and Rye to stay together. Me, again.”

“Ereth…,” Junior said. “I really think that's enough.”

Ereth shoved Junior back and boomed on. “Anyway, since
I
was so important in all of those happenings, the hero, actually, I could talk about that, too. For instance, Poppy and Rye had children. Too many, if you want to know what I think. Fact is, Poppy and Rye were too young to be parents. Fortunately,
I
lived close. They used
to come and ask me for advice about how to raise you annoying kids.
I
gave them plenty. In fact, I could give a brief talk about how to be a good parent. Might be useful.”

Ereth sighed deeply, caught himself, and grinned.

“Uncle Ereth,” said Junior, standing right next to him, “you really need to—”

“Just getting to the really important part,” Ereth muttered under his breath, and kept on. “So it would be only right to explain how she felt about
me
! After all, we were the best of friends.
Best,
best friends. Which means I should give a little talk about…myself.
My
early life. How
I
came to Dimwood Forest. Naturally I'd include how
I
met Poppy. I was saving her from a fox. I could even talk about that fox's children.
I
took care of them too.
I
saved them from starvation. That's me, always helping someone.”

“Ereth, please…”

“And speaking of starvation, I suppose I might explain how
I
see life here in Dimwood Forest, what we could do once this heat wave passes—”

“Ereth! Stop!” shouted Junior.

“I suppose that's enough,” said Ereth. “For introductory remarks. Of course, if there's time, someone else could speak. But they had better keep it short and only
about Poppy. Long, self-centered speeches are stupid. Besides, the whole point is, Poppy has gone and died!”

“But that's not true,” cried a voice from the back of the dell. “I'm right here!”