Chapter Fifteen

On Thursday, I still try to avoid Maggie on the bus ride to school. Josh is best buddies with David now, so my former strategy of sitting with my twin is shot. Josh jabbers away with David as we get on the bus, then they both pretty much forget all about me. So I sit by myself behind the bus driver. I wish Sunita took the same bus to school.

At lunch I go to the library for Brenna’s Save Our Streams meeting. The library is so packed with people, students are sitting on the tables and floor. It’s way too crowded, so I have to stand in the back. Mr. Hart calls the meeting to order and says that the whole school will be studying ecology and water systems in the next month. Then he introduces Brenna Lake.

Everyone claps. I hear David off to the side making some dumb joke about why Brenna Lake is cleaning up a stream and not a lake. David gets a few chuckles, but most everyone, including Brenna, ignores him. Brenna asks for the lights to be turned down and shows slides of all kinds of local wildlife at the Gold Hill Nature Preserve, where she lives with her family. The lights come back on, and she stands at the podium and asks the students to help out at the community-wide Save Our Streams Cleanup Day on Saturday.

“Last year we had over fifty volunteers,” Brenna says. “In just half a day, we collected fifty-seven bags of trash, three tires, various car parts, and an old washing machine out of the stream. This year we hope to at least double the number of volunteers and clean up an even longer stretch of stream. We’ll sort the junk we collect from the stream and recycle all the plastic, glass, metal, and aluminum. We really want to get the message out to keep our streams clean. Here’s why.”

Brenna holds up a big photo of a duck with its neck stuck in a plastic six-pack ring. It’s hard to look at. Next she shows a beaver tangled in fishing line and a baby raccoon with its head stuck in a dirty glass jar. It makes me feel sick to my stomach to see these injured animals. I’m not the only one who feels that way. There are gasps and silence.

“At the wildlife center, we see so many injured animals. Birds and foxes and other animals end up eating all kinds of dangerous things that people have left behind. Like the defenseless little raccoon I showed you with its head stuck in a jar. They can’t get themselves free, and sometimes they die of starvation. Innocent animals are trapped, injured, suffocate, and die because of plastic bags, fishing line, and plastic six-pack rings. I’ve seen birds and mammals with cuts on their feet from broken glass. It has to stop. Our local wildlife is depending on us for clean, safe, and unpolluted water. So who can help us clean the stream this Saturday?”

Everyone’s hand goes up, including mine.

“Great,” Brenna says. “Stream Cleanup Day is just a beginning. When we’re done for the day, we’ll report back in the newspaper and on our new blog to make people aware of recycling and how to prevent polluting our streams.”

Wow, she has it all planned out.

“I have sign-up sheets for general volunteers, sorters, photographers, and reporters. And we’re still looking for businesses to donate snacks and drinks. Can anyone think of anything else we need?”

Before I realize what I’m doing, my hand shoots up and Brenna nods to me. “Yes?” she asks.

I hate speaking in front of big groups of people. But this is important. “It sounds like you are going to need lots of garbage bags,” I stammer.

“Yes,” Brenna says. “In fact, last year we ran out and were scrambling at the last minute.”

“Well, what if each of us brings some garbage bags from home and we ask our neighbors and local businesses to donate, too? I bet my parents would donate some from their store.”

“Great idea, Jules!” Brenna says, and writes it down on her notepad. “Who thinks they can bring bags, and who wants to try to ask some local businesses to donate?”

More kids raise their hands, and Brenna writes down their names. I’m surprised at myself for raising my hand and speaking up in such a large group, but proud that Brenna liked my idea.

And now I know Brenna didn’t just invite me because she thinks Josh is cute. It sounds like she needs a lot of help. Plus, it sounds fun. I’ll ask Dad if the store can donate some garbage bags and maybe help with other recycling plans.

“We start at nine o’clock Saturday morning,” Brenna shouts out over everyone’s excitement. “Wear boots or waders and gloves,” she says. “Please take more flyers with you and tell your neighbors, families, and friends.”

So far Sunita is my only potential friend, and she already knows about Stream Cleanup Day. But I take a few flyers anyway and sign up as a general volunteer. I set the clipboard down. I want to talk to Brenna and tell her how excited I am to participate, but she is surrounded by other kids wanting to talk to her, too.

I wait a few minutes and finally get closer to the desk where she has her photos, notes, and more clipboards. There are more sign-up sheets with all the slots filled. And on the top of another page of “GENERAL VOLUNTEERS” in bright blue letters is the name Maggie MacKenzie. My stomach flip-flops. At first I think of switching to another job or not going to Stream Cleanup Day at all, but I refuse to be afraid of Maggie. Maybe she doesn’t want me anywhere near her grandma’s clinic, but she can’t keep me from going to the stream, helping animals, and making new friends like Brenna and Sunita.

Finally it’s my turn to talk to Brenna. “Hi again,” I say, kind of nervous, but determined. “I just want to tell you I’m behind you one hundred percent. I’ll be there on Saturday. If you need help with anything else before then, just call. My phone number is on the sign-up.”

“Great,” Brenna says. “Thanks for getting involved. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

• • • • •

After school, Josh takes off for David’s house. I’m so happy I got through the day without any more incidents with Maggie. We played basketball in gym again, but thankfully she and I ended up on different teams and played in different games.

At home, I check on Cuddles, pet her, and feed her some greens and apples. She loves apple slices. Sophie wants to help, too, filling the water bottle, making sure Cuddles is safe while I clean the cage, and feeding her more apple slices. Sophie also wants to pick up Cuddles and carry her back to the cage, but I tell her that’s my job. Instead, I show her how to latch the cage shut so Cuddles can’t get out. That seems to satisfy Sophie for now.

Sophie goes to the kitchen to do her homework with Mom. Dad comes in and says, “I’ve got another shipment coming in after the weekend, and I need to make room for more stock. I’m ready to tackle the basement cleanup, but I need some helpers. Any volunteers?”

Josh and I both chip in. The basement is huge, and I can’t wait until we have it all cleaned up so we can set up a family workshop down there.

Josh and I take armful after armful of cardboard boxes to the recycling bin behind the store. Before I dump each load, I scrounge around a bit for anything that would make interesting additions to Cuddles’s castle. I also check for the stray tabby in the alley behind the store, but there is no sign of him. We’re probably making too much noise.

Dad lets me hang a flyer for Stream Cleanup Day in the store window, even though the store won’t open for another two weeks. He says he’d be happy to donate garbage bags and maybe he’ll even have time to volunteer on Saturday morning.

“It’d be a good way to help out and get to know members of the community,” Dad says. I agree—it’ll be great to have Dad there, especially if Josh is hanging out with David and ignoring me.

After dinner, Josh is in our room again. Sophie decorates the outside walls of Cuddles’s castle with more flowers and butterflies. Sophie is a little calmer today and so is Cuddles. Even Josh notices.

“Cuddles is not only behaving herself,” he whispers to me, “but your newly tamed rabbit is going to help tame our sister, too. Sophie will be easier to babysit now that we have Cuddles to distract and entertain her.”

“I know,” I reply. “Did I tell you Mr. Hart called me the bunny whisperer? Because no one else had been able to pet Cuddles.”

Josh laughs. “Yep, you’re the bunny whisperer all right. What have I been telling you? You have a sixth sense.”

Josh commenting on my Animal Sense makes me feel good. He sits at my desk and watches as I add another cardboard room with rounded windows and doors to Cuddles’s castle. I use Sophie’s markers and write CUDDLES above the biggest door in fancy lettering.

Cuddles goes from calm to frisky again, hopping around exploring her new addition, stopping to groom her face and whiskers, then energetically sniffing and hopping again. I didn’t find a phone book yet, but Cuddles loves the toilet paper roll I made her with a carrot inside and a little hay stuck in both ends. She is so adorable and funny, chewing and throwing the cardboard roll around until she finally gets the carrot inside. Sophie keeps drawing tons of pictures of Cuddles doing all kinds of things and hanging them in our room. Hopping, hiding, exploring, sleeping, sniffing, and pooping.

“You’ve got quite a gallery of bunny art, Sophie,” Josh says, studying all her drawings.

“I know,” she says, beaming a Sophie-sized smile. “I’m an artist.”

Cuddles does a funny hop and high leap that looks makes her look like she’s dancing.

I’m so glad we got her. Josh and Sophie are, too. And so far, no complaints from Mom or Dad. I think we’ll complete our one-week trial period no problem.

• • • • •

Friday morning I wake up early. I make sure Cuddles eats, then I clean out her cage and wait for Josh to finish breakfast. It’s time to take Cuddles to Dr. Mac’s, and I’m glad Josh has agreed to go with me. When we get to Dr. Mac’s, the door is still locked, so Josh rings the after-hours bell. Through the glass door we see Sherlock lumber out through the side door, followed by Dr. Mac. She unlocks the door.

“Good morning, everyone,” Dr. Mac says. “Thanks for bringing Cuddles by bright and early.” The vet looks a little tired.

“I hope we didn’t make you get up too early,” Josh says.

“Oh no, we were up early feeding hungry kittens!” Dr. Mac laughs. “In fact, Maggie is still feeding the last one now.”

Dr. Mac asks a couple of quick questions about how Cuddles is feeling and when she last ate, then tells us she’ll do the spay later in the morning, “When Dr. Gabe is here to help hold down the fort. You can come by after school. Cuddles should be sufficiently recovered by then, and you can take her home to rest up.”

“Okay,” Josh says.

“See you soon, Cuddles. Be good,” I say. My throat tightens as I open the latch on the cage and pet her before we go. “Will she be okay?” I ask Dr. Mac.

Dr. Mac nods, and Josh grabs my arm.

“Come on, Jules,” he says. “Cuddles will be fine. We don’t want to miss the bus. Let’s go.”

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Mac says. “You’ll see Cuddles right after school.” Then she heads down the hall toward the Dolittle Room, carrying Cuddles in her cage. Cuddles looks at me as if she is saying, Wait? Where am I going? She looks smaller and smaller as she is carried away down the hall.

“Maggie,” Dr. Mac calls out. “Grab your stuff. You’re going to be late for the bus again!”

“Let’s go,” I tell Josh. And we walk quickly to the bus stop.