CHAPTER 3

Parts

The next day was Saturday, and since it wasn’t an Every-Other Weekend, Bat got to spend the whole day with Thor.

On Every-Other Weekends, Dad picked Bat and Janie up when school was finished on Friday and took them home to his apartment. There were good things about Every-Other Weekends: Dad liked to go on bike rides; Dad had a small garage, which he kept neatly organized, and it was a good place to build things; there was a workout room at Dad’s apartment complex that Bat wasn’t old enough to use yet, but would be, one day.

But especially since Thor had joined the family, Bat wasn’t really a fan of Every-Other Weekends, because Dad wasn’t a fan of animals. Mom, on the other hand, was almost as crazy about animals as Bat was.

In lots of ways, Mom and Dad were opposites: Mom liked animals; Dad didn’t. Mom worked as a veterinarian; Dad worked as a computer engineer. Mom liked to stay at home on the weekends, reading books and gardening; Dad liked to go out into the world on weekends, bike riding and playing catch at the park.

Bat liked animals, and he liked computers, too. He liked to stay home, and he liked to go out into the world. And his name was even made up of parts of both of his parents’ names: Bat was short for Bixby Alexander Tam—“Bixby” from his mom’s last name when she was a kid, “Alexander” because that was his dad’s middle name.

Bat liked that he had parts of both of his parents’ names in his name. It made sense, since he had parts of both of his parents in the rest of him, too. He had his dad’s straight black hair, which came from his dad’s Chinese ancestry, and he had his mom’s long fingers. He had his mom’s love of chocolate and his dad’s aversion to touching yucky things.

When Bat woke up on Saturday, the first thing he did after going to the bathroom and washing his hands was scoop Thor out of his enclosure and tuck him into the sling. Thor was getting bigger, Bat thought with satisfaction. His little belly had started to round out from all the formula Bat had been feeding him. Bat was a good skunk caretaker.

The kitchen was quiet; Mom and Janie were still asleep. Carefully, Bat poured a kit-sized serving of formula into Thor’s tiny bottle. He screwed the lid on tightly and then held the bottle under warm running water so the formula wouldn’t be cold.

It was a beautiful day, Bat saw through the window above the kitchen sink. The leaves on the tree were quiet—no wind—and the sky was a clear bright blue, with just a little bit of violet still from sunrise.

“Would you like to dine al fresco?” Bat said to Thor. Al fresco was Italian for “outside,” Bat knew, because on sunny days at school, his teacher, Mr. Grayson, sometimes said, “Hey, gang, let’s do reading time al fresco.”

Bat took the bottle and went out through the back door, sitting on the brick steps that led down into the yard. Thor must have smelled breakfast, because he was rustling around in the sling. Gently, Bat scooped him out and settled him on his lap.

Six weeks ago, when Thor had just been born, his nose had been pink, but now it was darkening to a nice shiny black. It twitched up at the bottle, and Bat aimed the bottle down. Thor’s tongue darted out and soon he was happily lapping up the formula, drop by drop.

Bat liked it when he could concentrate on just one thing, and he liked it even better when the one thing he was concentrating on was something he loved, like taking care of Thor.

With his thumb, Bat gently stroked the white strip of fur that ran up Thor’s snout and over his head. Thor closed his shiny black eyes and it looked to Bat like he grinned, short milky whisker hairs curving upward.

The back door opened and Bat turned to see Janie standing in the doorway. Her hair, which was not quite as dark as Bat’s, was wrapped around a bunch of spongy pink curlers.

“Hey,” said Janie.

“Hey,” said Bat.

Janie came the rest of the way outside and sat down on the step next to Bat, peering down at Thor. “He’s getting cuter,” she said.

“He’s getting furrier,” said Bat, “but I think he’s always been all the way cute.”

Janie made a noise halfway between a grunt and a snort. Then she said, “When is he going to start spraying?”

“That depends,” Bat said. He set down the empty bottle and tucked Thor back into the sling. “Skunks only spray if they feel threatened. If Thor never feels threatened, maybe he’ll never spray.”

“I guess you’ll have to try really hard to stay calm, huh?” said Janie. “Even if I tease you or tickle you?” She lifted up her hands and wiggled her fingers.

Bat hated to be tickled. “Don’t,” he said, but he tried to say it in a really calm voice because he didn’t want to make Thor nervous.

Janie laughed. “Just kidding, Bat,” she said. “Hey, do you want to help me take the curlers out of my hair?”

Bat liked to help Janie with hair stuff, and she barely ever let him. “Okay,” he answered. “Just let me put Thor away first.”