by Rina Heisel
As they stepped into the burrow tunnels, Tobin nearly ran into Wiley’s little brother Smudge.
Smudge’s mouth gaped open, accentuating the dark gray streak running from his forehead to the tip of his nose. “What is that?”
“Oh, this?” Wiley shrugged. “Just a caterpillar. I was going to go throw it back outside.”
“Wait!” Smudge reached out a paw, patting the fuzz-covered larva. “Can I have it?”
“Hmm.” Wiley cocked his head. “I guess. Just make sure not to bother Mom with it. She’s getting the pups to sleep. Take it back to our room. Oh, and there’s milkweed by my bed.”
Smudge nodded enthusiastically. If the mouseling was suspicious of Wiley’s generosity, he didn’t show it. Wiley draped the caterpillar over Smudge’s shoulders, and the younger mouse waddled away. Tobin slapped a paw over his muzzle to keep from laughing.
A satisfied smile spread across Wiley’s face. “We should go.”
“Yeah.” Tobin laughed as his claws gripped the tunnel floor. “Race you.”
Wiley flicked his tail. “You’re on.”
Tobin bolted. Paws pounding the lumpy floor, they raced down the tunnel away from Wiley’s, like they had a hundred times before. Lean left, lean right. Tobin built speed until his paws barely grazed the floor. Swerving past a few startled mice, they burst out an exit hole, plowing into the nearest shrub.
This was poor usage of the Rules.
“One of these days,” Tobin panted, “there’ll be a badger sitting here waiting for us.”
Wiley leaned against a low, scraggly branch, his dark-brown head and paws blending perfectly with the wood. “No way.”
“No way, huh?” Tobin cocked his head. “Kind of like no way that blue jay was going to chase you down yesterday?”
“That’s different.” Wiley rubbed a paw over his newly scabbed ear.
“Really?” Tobin said, peeking out from the shelter of the shrub. Deeming it safe, he scurried to a patch of freshly sprouted dandelion. “How’s your ear today?”
Wiley pounced from his spot beneath the bough. “It only hurts if I touch it. Mom got a little mad. Dad just said he knew I’d never keep a perfect set of ears. At least that bird only got the tip.”
Tobin nodded. “And you kept the acorn.”
“Of course!” Wiley pounced on the yellow-puffed weed growing beside Tobin’s. “It was delicious.”
Tobin chomped through a dandelion stem and nibbled off some leaves, too. One perk of gathering fresh stems for Mom was snacking a little himself, too. Something tickled his nose, and he rubbed a paw over his face. It came away wet with dew. “We’d better hurry up.”
In the distance, a crack of thunder rolled through the sky. For a moment the whole forest was still, as if bracing for what came next.
Tobin scooped up his heap of clippings in his paws. “I’d say we have enough.”
Wiley nodded silently, grabbing his pile, too.
Cramming the pieces in his mouth, Tobin ran toward the burrow entrance, craning his neck to keep the cuttings from tangling his paws. Even so, he almost tripped when he saw Talia waiting at the burrow entrance, sitting under a clump of moss.
“Wudda look at dat?” Wiley muttered through his veggie-filled jaws.
Tobin spit the bundle from his mouth. “How’d you find us, pipsqueak?”
Her face puckered like she’d eaten a bad berry. “Don’t call me that. Wiley’s mom sent me this way.”
“Why?” Tobin raised a brow.
Sour face gone, Talia bounced from paw to paw. “Because I had to get you. It’s Mom, she had the baby!”
Tobin’s stomach flipped. “What?”
“The pinkling!” Talia clapped her paws. “It’s here! We have to go.”
“It’s here.” Tobin felt like a million little pebbles were sloughing off his back. A smile crossed his muzzle. “And it’s healthy?”
“Yes,” Talia squealed. “It came really fast, probably when you were sneaking out.”
Wiley’s ears flicked straight up. “You snuck out?”
“Oh.” Tobin’s nose twitched. “Did I not mention that?”
Talia continued. “Dad said once I find you, we can go in and see Mom and the baby.” She raised a paw. “Don’t worry, I told him you were just out checking the weather again, this time with Wiley.”
A sudden crack of thunder sent Tobin’s toes curling into the dirt. Talia’s eyes went wide as moons.
“Storm’s almost here.” Wiley practically shook with excitement.
“We can watch from my window,” said Tobin.
“Or”—Wiley raised a furry brow—“you know what we could do?”
Tobin flattened an ear. Oh no . . .
Wiley clapped his paws together. “I heard the Eldermice say that sometimes, when the air is damp before a storm—like today—the sky turns green before the rain comes. Green! We should check it out from Lookout Landing.”
Talia looked at Wiley like he’d sprouted a second tail. “Hello, did you hear what I said? My mom just had her baby. I’m supposed to find Tobin and go home.”
“Just a really quick look.” Wiley stretched out his front legs, his head dipping low, round eyes staring up at Talia. “Please? Even the Eldermice are saying this could be the storm of the century—a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”
Talia sat back on her hind legs and crossed her front paws.
“Ah, sludge.” Wiley’s eyes rolled and his tail flopped back and forth. “Don’t be such a tadpole, Talia.”
Her cheek fur puffed. “I’m not a baby!”
“Quiet a sec.” Tobin raised a paw just as another clap of thunder cracked the air. A thrill of joy ran through him. Mom’s fine. The baby’s fine. Now—the storm of the century awaits. Outside, a roar of wind rustled the trees. Tobin sniffed. The downpour was close. If they hurried, maybe they could see both? “Lookout Landing’s a pretty quick trip up the tunnel from our den.”
Wiley pumped his paw in the air. “Yes!”
“How about this?” Tobin directed his stare at Talia. “We run up and meet the baby, then ask if we can go to Wiley’s to tell his mom the news.” Now Tobin shifted his gaze to Wiley. “Except maybe on the way to Wiley’s den, we take a quick detour and peek out at Lookout Landing.”
Talia pointed a tiny claw at Tobin. “You always let Wiley get you into trouble.”
“Wiley, would you give us a sec?” Tobin jerked his head toward the upward-winding tunnel.
His friend’s nose twitched impatiently, but Wiley turned, scooped up his dandelion pickings, and scampered up the curvy passageway.
“Listen, Tal.” Tobin turned to Talia once they were alone. “The baby is okay! Mom is okay! We all want to be full-fledged weather scouts someday, right? Observing a real green sky can’t hurt.”
Talia traced circles in the dirt with her paw as she considered his words. “But I don’t like sneaking. Mom would want to know if we went up there, right?”
“Normally, yes.” Tobin waved a paw, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “But Mom’s got her paws full, right? New pinkling! Getting out of her fur for a few minutes would probably be a good thing.”
“All right,” Talia conceded. “It would be amazing to see the storm.” Her eyes brightened, flickering with happiness. “But first—we meet the baby!”
“Yes, we do.” Tobin whipped his tail and called up to Wiley. “Let’s head up!”
Three
ON THIS TRIP BACK to his den, Tobin’s paws felt especially light, despite the load of fresh dandelion trimmings he carried in his mouth. Amazing how much things had changed since morning. Now Tobin practically floated through the Gathering Room, returning the smiles of all the Eldermice who offered their congratulations. This time, the Eldermice let him easily pass by, and Tobin was very grateful. After all, he had a baby to meet! Of course, Tobin ducked to avoid eye contact with Aunt Grebba, knowing she could accidentally wilt daisies with her words no matter the occasion.
Tob
in, Talia, and Wiley trod down the hall to his parents’ room. His uncle Derry sat crouched in the entrance like a doorkeeper, ensuring boisterous visitors remained out in the Gathering Room; tranquil visitors only beyond this point. Uncle Derry smiled at the sight of Tobin, and his grin widened farther upon noticing Talia and Wiley trailing right behind.
“There you are,” Derry said, his voice hushed. “Ah . . .” He nodded his big brown head. “Seems you were weather watching and picking some fresh greens.”
Reaching up with his paw, Tobin grabbed the clutch of cuttings from his jaws and set it beside the entryway. “Just trying to be helpful,” he replied in a hushed voice. “Why are we whispering, Uncle?”
“Because your parents and the babe have all fallen asleep,” he answered. “You know they had a long night.”
“Oh no,” Talia replied, her voice dripping with disappointment.
The warm heat of embarrassment pooled in Tobin’s cheeks and rose up into his ears. Because he’d snuck out with Wiley, they’d have to wait to meet the baby.
“Now, hang on there,” Uncle Derry said, the lilt in his voice indicating maybe all was not lost. “No need for the sad faces. If you’re quiet—which I know you scouts can be—you can go take a peek at your new family member.”
Talia straightened, and even her whiskers perked up. “Oh, we can be quiet, promise.”
“Then I think your folks would love for you to have a look. Go on.” Uncle Derry stepped aside.
Tobin smiled and nodded, setting his dandelion greens inside the room for his mom to enjoy later. A peek was better than nothing! His excitement bubbled back up, and as he led the procession into his parents’ quarters, his toes tingled with every step. As he neared his mother, his nose caught the sweet scent of milk. His eyes widened upon seeing the tiny form of the pinkling, no bigger than a pumpkin seed, pressed up against his mother’s silvery gray fur.
As Talia wriggled in beside him, Tobin knew exactly when her eyes fixed on the new baby, because she was suddenly perfectly still.
Tobin leaned over to her. “How were we ever that small?”
Talia smiled back, just shrugging. As she looked back at the pinkling, her eyes widened. “Oh, Tobin, look.”
The pinkling stretched a bit, kicking out its tiny back legs before snuggling up close again. Its tiny tail curled around itself in sleep, and Tobin gasped. The baby’s tail was already a dark gray.
“Would you look at that.” Wiley leaned in closer.
“Ahem.” Uncle Derry quietly cleared his throat from the doorway.
“I think our time’s up,” Tobin noted.
Talia nodded, leaning in for one last look and sniff. “Like milk and dandelions.”
“Yeah,” Tobin agreed. “C’mon, we better head out.”
“Don’t forget.” Wiley smiled a sneaky grin. “We have another stop to make.”
As the three mice scooted past Uncle Derry, Tobin had a thought. “Here, into my room, quick.”
Wiley and Talia followed him, and Wiley’s stare went right to the window, then to the scattering of pebbles on the ground. “Oh yeah, I see what you did now.”
Tobin flicked his tail. “Do you know how many questions those Eldermice will have for us in the Gathering Room? Sure, they let us pass through on the way to meet the pinkling. But on the way out? Oh no. They’ll have questions—about a hundred of them! We can’t risk going back through a second time.”
Tobin watched as the realization dawned on Wiley’s and Talia’s faces.
“We’ll be stuck forever,” Wiley whispered.
“Exactly.” Tobin scurried over to the window. “But since I’ve gotta fix this window anyway, we may as well use it one more time.” Tobin scaled the wall, then looked back to Talia and Wiley. “So, there’s a breezeway vent just a quick climb above us. It should be wide enough that we can reenter the burrow and head up the main tunnel to Lookout Landing.”
A smile slowly sprouted across Wiley’s muzzle. “I like the way you think.”
Talia bounced nervously from paw to paw. “The window?” Talia looked to the battered frame of the opening, then back to Tobin. “It’s just, we’re not supposed to use the window. I know you have before, but . . .”
Tobin narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, trying to silently remind her of their prior conversation. “Yes, Tal. Out the window. To see the storm. Weather scouts. Any of this ring a bell?”
Talia wrung her paws together, and Tobin could feel his patience dwindle. “Okay,” he said. “Wiley, I think Talia would rather stay here, so we can just go, and—”
“Wait.” Talia sat up and steadied herself. “So, you really think if I see this unusual sky it’ll help me get into the weather scouts?”
A mixture of pride and relief swept through Tobin. Pride in Talia for mustering her courage, and relief that if she came, she definitely would not tell on them. “For sure! I bet no other mice in your brood group will see this storm from Lookout Landing.”
Talia’s head bobbed in quick nods, like she was eager to convince herself, too. “I suppose we can’t even ask Mom and Dad’s permission right now anyway. Just promise we’ll be fast?”
“Promise.” Tobin nodded. “And we’ll get this window all patched up before anyone notices we’re gone.”
Wiley sniffed the air. “The storm’s scent is strong; we need to move.”
Talia agreed. “Okay.”
“Follow me, stay close,” Tobin instructed. He poked his head out the window and sniffed. The smells of the forest were amplified by the plopping raindrops, but so far, everything was safe. They could move.
Tobin slid the rest of his body out his window, clinging to the cobbled surface of the Great Burrow. Looking left and upward, he could see the pebbled ridge that marked a breezeway—their entrance. Tobin shivered as a gust of wind rippled the fur along his back, and he gripped the wall harder. Okay, so severe-weather climbing might present some new challenges. The little daylight that remained broke through the blowing canopy of vines and cast shadows that danced and skipped along the burrow wall. This would be a short climb, but it required some care.
Tobin glanced back to his companions. “Follow my pawholds, okay? I’ll find good places to grip. Talia, stay right on my tail.”
They nodded back at him, and Tobin made his first move. Reach, find hold, pull up. Tobin repeated this technique, relying on his sense of touch instead of sight, since the bouncing shadows were enough to deceive his vision. A quick glance up determined he was on target, and the sounds of claws on clay below assured him that Talia and Wiley were close behind.
One more stretch and grab, and Tobin’s paw hit the ledge of the breezeway. Only a narrow slit in the wall, it was just wide enough for fresh air to pass into the Great Burrow. Tobin smiled. Just wide enough for three junior-sized mice to squeeze through.
Tobin cocked his head, angling his ear directly below the opening. He called over his shoulder, “It’s all clear. Let’s head in.”
Tobin reached his paws into the crevice and pulled himself through, dropping down into a main corridor. He slid to the side, leaving room for Talia to fall in beside him, followed by Wiley.
Wiley leaned back on his haunches and clapped his front paws, his whiskers quivering with excitement. “Better hightail it before we miss the show,” he said as he leaped forward, scurrying around the bending tunnel before Tobin could even answer.
Tobin eyed his sister. “Stay close to me up there, okay?”
She lifted her chin. Tobin saw the “I’m not a baby” speech ready to fly. He quickly raised a paw. “I’m not worried about you, Tal. Think about it: rain, lightning, danger—and Wiley.”
The whites flashed around the dark centers of her eyes. “We’d better go.”
Running up the cobbled tunnel to Lookout Landing, Tobin couldn’t help but notice they were the only mice heading up—not down. He studiously avoided eye contact with any mouse they passed. No questions meant no mouse telling them to turn around. Roun
ding one final curve, he finally saw Wiley crouching beneath a shaft. When Tobin and Talia reached him, they looked up. The narrow passageway, wide enough for a single mouse, led skyward.
“See you topside,” said Wiley. He sprang into the shaft and shimmied upward. Tobin nodded to Talia, then squatted, set, and jumped.
As soon as Tobin entered the tunnel, he could feel gusts of air brush the tips of his ears. He quickly ascended the narrow tunnel, pushing himself into the open air of Lookout Landing.
WHOOSH!
Wind slapped his face like a splash of water. The thickly knit shrubs atop the Great Burrow usually acted like a weather barrier, but today the gusts spun the spindly branches in circles. Dust and pebbles whirled like little tornadoes.
Tobin looked to Wiley, who sat beside the entrance.
The wind whipped Wiley’s whiskers back and forth across his face. “Can you believe this?”
Tobin scurried beside his friend, hunkering beneath some woven twigs. Like a hawk hovering in the air, thick black clouds hung above the canopy of trees. But in between the clouds, small patches of sickly green sky broke through.
Wiley gasped. “A green sky.”
A shiver danced down Tobin’s spine. “It looks . . . angry,” he shouted as the wind threatened to drown out his words. He looked back to the shaft. Was Talia coming? She had to see this.
Wiley bounced from paw to paw. “Can you believe how dark it is? It’s barely midday!”
Tobin shook his head. From the corner of his eye he saw a pink nose cautiously sniffing the whirling air. Tobin raised his voice again. “C’mon Tal, it’s windy but not that wet. There’s a genuine green sky.”
Talia peeked out, flinching as the first gust whipped past her ears. Then she darted beside him, and he smiled and nudged her shoulder. “Pretty brave for a mouseling.”
Her forehead smoothed a little. “I’m no skittish fish.”
“Let’s head over to the ledge,” said Wiley. “We can see the whole storm from there without all this bramble in the way.”
And there it was. Whenever Wiley was involved, plans tended to shift and change directions like a bat flitting after bugs in the night sky. But this was too much. It was one thing taking risks just him and Wiley, but with Talia, too . . .
