Showdown in Crittertown Read online

  Dedication

  For my father, Marvin Korman,

  who shared his love of cheese,

  books, music, and art.

  Copyright © 2014 by Justine Fontes

  Cover illustrations by David Mar

  Interior illustrations by Ron Fontes

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means without the written permission of the copyright owner.

  All inquiries should be addressed to:

  Barron’s Educational Series, Inc.

  250 Wireless Boulevard

  Hauppauge, NY 11788

  www.barronseduc.com

  Print edition ISBN: 978-1-4380-0360-3

  eISBN: 978-1-4380-9245-4

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1 Not Again!

  Chapter 2 Mess-Up at the Meeting

  Chapter 3 Putting the Fun in Fundraising

  Chapter 4 Many Paws Make Light Work

  Chapter 5 A Dark Rumor

  Chapter 6 Negative Numbers

  Chapter 7 Library Spy

  Chapter 8 Opening the Door

  Chapter 9 “Mouseletes” in Training

  Chapter 10 Bull’s-eye

  Introduction

  Dear Children,

  Have you read my first book yet? If you haven’t, here’s what you need to know: My name is Cheddar. But folks around here call me the Postmouseter, because I am the first leader of the Critter Post—a group of animals dedicated to spreading happy thoughts.

  We got the idea from the human post office. My colony lives in the basement of the post office in Crittertown, Maine. We started getting lots of ideas after “The Change,” when animals suddenly understood human speech and writing. Critters can talk to each other, but people still only hear squeaks, barks, and chirps. We get around that problem by writing letters.

  When we found out that the Crittertown Post Office might close, my friends Grayson, Nilla, and I went on a mission to find a new home. We met mean mice at the store next door, and some very smart mice at the library. And by writing notes, we made friends with the third graders at Crittertown Elementary School. They helped us save the post office!

  If you want to know more, please read Cheddar’s Tales: Crisis in Crittertown. Otherwise, just turn the page and think…

  …happy thoughts!

  Cheddar Plainmouse

  The Postmouseter

  P.S. If you have questions or just like to write letters, you can reach me at:

  Cheddar Plainmouse

  1138 Main Street

  Crittertown, ME 04355

  Chapter 1 Not Again!

  Most mice hate humans. But the way I see it, the critters who invented cheese can’t be all bad.

  Besides, these days some of my best friends are humans—the small humans of Mrs. Olson’s third grade class at Crittertown Elementary School. These kids helped save our home! So we started “hanging out” together every weekday after school. Human expressions are so strange. Hanging out has nothing to do with hangers or clotheslines. But it is fun!

  I like hanging out at the post office with my mouse friends Grayson and Nilla. You never know what you’re going to find in the trash cans, in the recycling bins, and on the snack table. Once we found half a hamburger!

  In late November the treats really piled up. We sampled homemade fudge, Christmas cookies, nuts, and a “cheese log.” That’s not as weird as it sounds. Forget trees; this was soft cheese pressed into the shape of a log. And like every other kind of cheese, it’s so delicious!

  Anyway, one night after closing time, we went upstairs for some treasure hunting. But we found something that made our fur stand on end.

  Grayson suddenly squeaked, “Closing the school!”

  Nilla dropped the muffin wrapper she’d been nibbling. “What?”

  I raced up the Priority Mail display to join Grayson at the community bulletin board. As the grandson of our colony’s leader, Grayson had an interest in politics. He often read the notices about town council meetings. Usually they just talked about the cost of snowplows and other things that didn’t matter to us. But this…

  I read the words twice and then moaned. “They can’t do it!”

  Nilla reads more slowly than I do. So she asked, “Who can’t do what?”

  Grayson answered, “The council is going to discuss closing Crittertown Elementary School!”

  Nilla squeaked with joy. “No more homework, no more math, and we could play with the children all day—not just in the afternoons! Why do you look so glum?”

  Grayson shook his head. “The kids would still have to go to school. They just wouldn’t go right here in town.”

  I read to the end of the notice. “The plan is to merge with Lakeville Elementary, which is a larger, newer school about 20 miles from here.”

  Nilla looked as sad as the time we opened the clerk’s cookie tin and found a sewing kit instead of shortbread. I hated to explain the worst part. “Our friends would have to take a bus to school. They’d be gone longer each day. And we might lose the playground.”

  Nilla wailed, “I love the playground!”

  I shrugged. “Well it’s one of the things that needs costly repairs.”

  We felt almost too low to check the snack table. But we knew the rest of the colony was counting on us. So we each grabbed a cookie to slide under the worn rubber seal on the post office’s back door.

  As soon as we entered the basement, our cookie-loving comrades swarmed.

  Someone squeaked, “Did you get any of the ones with sprinkles?”

  “I like icing!”

  “Any brownies?”

  Only our nervous friend, Twitchy, sensed something was wrong. Of course, Twitchy always thinks something is wrong. Sadly, sometimes he’s right!

  Twitchy asked questions in a frightened rush. “What is it? Have the postal bosses changed their minds? Will they be closing the office after all?”

  Grayson shook his head. “The elementary school.”

  Twitchy sighed with relief. “That’s okay. As long as we have a home.”

  Twitchy was a real stay-in-the-nest type of mouse. He hadn’t gotten to know the children yet. He couldn’t understand why this news made us so gloomy.

  Our leader, Brownback, understood. He said, “It’s not good for the town—not to mention your young friends.” Then he sighed. “But what can we do about it?”

  I thought about writing a letter to the children. But I felt too depressed. I tried cheering myself up by thinking of different cheeses in alphabetical order, from American to blue all the way to Stilton. (If you know any cheeses that start with T, U, V, W, X, Y, or Z, please let me know!)

  All that did was make me hungry. So instead of cheese, I tried thinking of ways to save the school. I figured that since letters helped save Crittertown’s post office, maybe they could save the school, too.

  I started a list of humans to whom we might write. I hoped the children could add to it the next day. We always met at April’s house, because she lived next door to the school. Her garage was empty all day while her father was at work. April’s mom worked at home, typing on a computer and talking on the phone. So we didn’t have to fear someone shrieking “Mouse!” and calling an exterminator.

  That afternoon, Buttercup came to pick us up as usual. His human friends, Jill and Bill, always came to April’s house. And Buttercup—the large, yellow Lab—never missed a chance to spend time with his favorite people. Buttercup lived at the Bed & Breakfast. But he had the run of the town, as long as he came home in time for supper. With his love of food, that was never a problem.

  As soon as the big dog arrived at our h
ole, Grayson, Nilla, and I rushed out to greet him. Buttercup lowered himself to the scraggly grass so we could climb onto his back.

  For a dog who “barely knows rollover from beg,” Buttercup was quite alert. As we settled onto the soft scruff under his collar, he sensed something was wrong.

  “What’re you worrying about?” he barked. “You can tell me. Did someone get stuck in a trap? Did those mean mice from the store try to invade the post office? Did Mike’s wife put him on another diet?”

  “Nothing like that,” Grayson said.

  “Then what is it?” Buttercup stood up and started walking.

  Nilla exclaimed, “The school! The grownups are planning to close Crittertown Elementary School!”

  Buttercup nodded. “Now it all makes sense!”

  “What makes sense?” I asked.

  Buttercup stopped to scratch his ear. We struggled to cling to the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I always scratch when I’m thinking.”

  Buttercup resumed walking and talking. “I was trying to recall what I’d heard Jill and Bill say this morning when they brought my food.”

  Grayson muttered, “Probably couldn’t hear over his own gulping.”

  Buttercup laughed. “No, I heard them. I just didn’t know what it meant. They said something about having to take a bus instead of walking to school if ‘the budget crisis’ didn’t get resolved. What’s a budget crisis?”

  I sighed. “Humans arguing about money.” The library mouse named Economics knew all about this sort of thing. I only knew that humans often worried about money, and this definitely interfered with the flow of happy thoughts.

  When we reached the garage, the children were talking about the same thing. There wasn’t enough money to fix Crittertown Elementary School, so the Crittertown kids would have to attend Lakeville. Jill said, “Taking a bus means leaving earlier and coming home later, and we might be not able to meet here as often!”

  Ian said, “I’ve heard Lakeville has a good music room. But it won’t be the same.”

  Tanya jumped up. “Then let’s not let it happen!”

  “What can we do?” her friend Hannah asked.

  I held up my list. Jane read it out loud. “Humans we could write letters to about saving Crittertown Elementary School: politicians, parents, media.”

  Wyatt said, “Great idea! Our letters helped save the post office.”

  “We can write petitions, too,” April said in her sweet whisper.

  When everyone asked, “What?” Javier repeated, “Petitions.”

  “Yes!” Tanya exclaimed. “Let’s start tomorrow!”

  Andy said, “Maybe other classes can help, too. We’re not the only ones who want to save our school.”

  “Good thinking!” Wyatt agreed.

  So we wrote a letter and a petition. Until Bill said, “This is too much like schoolwork. Last one to the playground is a rotten egg!” Then he took off running.

  Jane scooped up Grayson, Nilla, and me into her hat and ran to the schoolyard. We bounced around wildly until she reached the swings.

  Nilla was still puzzling over what rotten eggs had to do with running when Jane started swinging. Then we all forgot about everything, shouting, “This is fun!”

  Chapter 2 Mess-Up at the Meeting

  Mrs. Olson liked the idea of the letters and a petition. She sent Andy to Principal Clark’s office to ask about involving the other classes.

  Tanya said, “Maybe the junior high and high school kids can help, too!”

  Mrs. Olson smiled. “Please raise your hand, Tanya. But yes, that’s a good idea. After all, lots of those students graduated from here.”

  Before the school day was over, teachers and students all over Crittertown were behind the campaign. We heard this from Chitchat, one of the red squirrels who lived near the school.

  Grayson thought he was “an awful gossip.” But I didn’t mind the squirrel’s chatter. Chitchat always knew what was going on, and he’d become a very useful member of the Critter Post. I could always count on him to carry a message. After all, gossip is all about carrying messages!

  “They’ll talk about the letters and petitions at the meeting tonight,” Chitchat reported. “I heard that straight from the school secretary.”

  “We should go to that town council meeting, too!” Grayson squeaked.

  I shuddered at the thought of all those humans and cars gathered at the school. We hadn’t set one paw inside Crittertown Elementary since Principal Clark called the exterminator and destroyed our dream of living there.

  Grayson went on. “It’s the only way to find out what we’re really up against.”

  I said, “You’re just curious about human government—and you’re always looking for any chance to get out of the basement.”

  Grayson grinned. “You know me so well.”

  Nilla squeaked, “Learning all we can will help us solve the problem.”

  I sighed. Two against one meant I would not be spending a nice, quiet evening under the post office.

  Buttercup agreed to be our taxi to and from the meeting. As usual, Brownback wanted us to keep him informed. So I wore out my paw taking notes.

  The grown-ups argued over which repairs were really necessary. They argued over whether it would be better to build a new school. And they argued over whose turn it was to talk.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t stand any more, the grown-ups stopped for “refreshments.”

  Nilla nudged me, “That’s food, right?”

  I nodded. Food might mean… Many busy hands lifted the lids off plastic containers and pulled back shiny plastic wrap. Suddenly the room filled with that most delicious smell: cheese!

  Nilla grabbed my tail just in time. I almost rushed out among all those people!

  I whispered, “Thanks.”

  We watched humans consume cookies and cheese. “Drop crumbs!” I urged silently. But they usually chomped the pieces of cheese in one big bite.

  Leave leftovers! I thought. But I feared they would eat the whole feast right down to the paper doilies.

  Slowly, oh so slowly, the meeting started breaking up. People drifted into the lobby. Some said their good-byes. Others continued talk-talk-talking.

  Suddenly, the voices grew louder. Grayson’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “It’s a fight! I wonder if they’re going to bite or scratch each other.”

  Nilla squeaked, “Let’s go see!”

  But I had a different idea. While all attention focused on the fight, I ran to the cheese! I grabbed a huge wedge of my favorite—cheddar! It was nearly as big as me. But I had it perfectly balanced on my back. Then I suddenly heard someone scream!

  “What’s wrong?” I wondered.

  Then the screamer added, “A mouse!”

  Other voices chimed in, including Principal Clark. “I told that exterminator this place was infested. But he said he saw no sign of vermin.”

  Vermin—that word really hurt! But I had no time to feel insulted. With deep regret, I dropped the cheese and raced into the night.

  I found Grayson and Nilla under Chitchat’s maple tree. We heard the grown-ups talking as they walked to the parking lot. The debate was over.

  This was “proof” that the old building was “infested with vermin.” The school would be closed!

  My heart sank. It was my fault! If only I’d waited until the people were gone. They might have dropped some cheese. They might have thrown some away. People were always throwing away great treasures. But no, I’d let my stomach do the thinking instead of my brain. And now…

  Nilla tried to console me, “It’s not your fault. It’s the numbers. You heard Principal Clark. The budget and the bills just don’t add up.”

  Ever since our time at the school, Nilla had been studying math. Of course, she still had a long way to go. Nilla said, “I don’t understand why they can’t borrow some ones from somewhere or move some decimal points or something. In any case, Cheddar, there’s no sense blaming yourself.
”

  That was sweet of her to say, but I did blame my greedy love of tangy, savory cheese. Maybe I really was vermin!

  Thanks to me, the children would be traveling 20 miles to school. Buttercup couldn’t possibly carry us all the way to Lakeville Elementary School. My misery deepened as I realized what it all meant. No more story time! No more listening through the windows while Mrs. Olson read out loud.

  I moaned, “There must be something else we can do to save the school!” But I couldn’t think of anything. I groaned. “I wish I were smarter.” Then I realized, “I don’t have to be smarter. I just need to squeak to someone who is!”

  “That’s easy. Everyone’s smarter than you mice—except Buttercup,” teased a voice from above.

  Chitchat climbed toward us headfirst from the maple’s top branches. The squirrel chattered on, “Do you need me to get that goofy dog, or should we wait until all the cars are gone?”

  Grayson surveyed the emptying parking lot. “It won’t be long. We might as well wait.” He added, “Besides, I want to know what Cheddar’s talking about.”

  I said, “Let’s ask Buttercup to take us to the library. We can ask our friends for ideas.”

  Nilla asked, “Which subjects?”

  All the library colony mice were named for different book categories.

  Grayson sighed. “Economics, I suppose.”

  Economics thought the world revolved around money. He was so boring!

  I knew which subject Grayson would rather visit. I felt the same way. But I teased him anyway. “I know you’d rather squeak to Poetry.”

  Nilla mused, “Economics is money, like budgets and bills, right?”

  “Exactly!” I squeaked. “Maybe Economics or Nonfiction will know how to save the school.” Nonfiction was the library clan’s leader.

  “It’s worth a try,” Grayson agreed. Then he smoothed his fur, and I knew what he was thinking. As long as we were at the library, we’d see Poetry!

  Chitchat said, “I can take that message to Buttercup. And I’ll let your colony know you’ll be getting back to the post office later than expected.”