by Judy Pierce
This was even more worrisome. Ozette knew this was a major accomplishment for a magpie since they often talked before they thought.
McDougal ruffled his feathers and tilted his head.
“Lead the way and show us where you saw him,” Ozette said.
The forlorn band headed out once again, following the flight path of the black bird.
McDougal led them to the willow grove. Ozette sniffed the calm spring air and wrinkled her nose. What was that awful smell?
Suddenly, Ariel called out from underneath a large weeping willow tree. “Here’s the bag of stones! Oliver was here!”
McDougal flew over the area while the others searched the ground relentlessly. A confused Cassady was running in circles, still carrying Oliver’s boxers but no longer able to smell Oliver’s scent due to the overpowering stench.
Ozette was heartsick. “I may never see Oliver again. Never taste his baking, see his beautiful smile, or go rafting with him,” Ozette sobbed, her tears falling onto Ariel’s wings.
Ozette sniffed again. The strange smell seemed stronger now. Phew!
“What is THAT?” she cried out, standing on her tiptoes and pointing a paw at a flock of blue jays slowly descending to the ground.
She squinted. They were carrying something. As the flock flew lower, the acrid smell grew. Ozette pinched her nose shut as her eyes grew wide in disbelief! The blue jays had tiny clothespins on their beaks to block the smell! And what was that they were carrying?
She gasped. Whatever it was, it was wearing a pair of blue-and-white-striped boxer shorts. She strained to get a closer look. As the birds drifted to the ground, the smell intensified. The circle of friends drew back, but Ozette stepped closer for a better look. Her furry jaw dropped open in disbelief as the blue jays gently lowered a very dirty, disheveled and familiar-looking elf to the ground.
“Oliver!” Ozette cried.
“Ozette!” Oliver called, holding his arms out for a hug.
Ozette backed up as a wave of the horrible smell wafted closer to her. “You stay right there, Oliver. You smell like a cross between an underground sewer and a rotting swamp,” Ozette said, wrinkling her nose. “With maybe some wet groundhog mixed in.”
Oliver looked hurt, so Ozette added, “We’ll move upwind and you can tell us what happened. We’ve been so worried!”
“Well, I was walking home from Sydney’s when I saw something unusual dart across the road. And you know how adventurous I am,” he said, proudly sticking out his elfin chest. “I just had to find out what it was.”
The no-nonsense Ariel rolled her eyes. “Foolhardy is more like it,” she muttered.
“It was furry and white,” Oliver said, ignoring Ariel. “I thought it might be another white squirrel, and I wanted to surprise you with a new friend for the Spring Fling. I was running after it when I fell down into a hole,” Oliver said, shuddering.
Ozette clicked her tongue in sympathy.
“And that’s how I found out it wasn’t a cute white squirrel,” Oliver continued. “It was an albino skunk and I had fallen smack down into its lair! He ran out the other side, but not before giving me a good spray in return for his troubles. My tunic was drenched, so I threw it away. By the way, if you didn’t know this fact, albino skunk spray smells about a hundred times worse than regular skunk spray.”
Ozette nodded in agreement and waved her paw in front of her face to dissipate the odor.
“Then I took a wrong turn in its tunnel and got stuck. I yelled for hours, but no one came. Except the skunk, to give me one final spray,” Oliver said, wiping a tear from his eye with the back of a grimy hand and sniffing miserably.
“Tell us how you escaped,” Ariel said, impatiently. She was happy Oliver was back, but miffed about the worry he had caused. And besides, she didn’t know if this smell would ever wash out of her wings.
Oliver pointed to the small flock of blue jays pecking the ground. “Thankfully, these kind birds heard me. They wove some branches together, put them down into the hole for me to grab, and pulled me out using their beaks,” Oliver said. “If they hadn’t...” Oliver shivered, unable to continue.
“Now, now, young elf,” one of the jays chirped. Blue jays were always optimistic and didn’t like to dwell on the negative. “We’re just glad we came along when we did. You were in bad shape.”
“That elf has quite a set of lungs on him,” a second blue jay chimed in. “He was bellowing something fierce, so it was easy to find him. It just took a bit of teamwork to get him out.”
“Yes, no problem at all. Glad to help. It’s all in the line of duty,” added a third blue jay.
Ozette bowed to the jays and thanked them profusely. She invited them to her home to feast on as much of her stash of seed as their little bellies could hold.
Oliver’s tears dried and he smiled weakly. “Good idea. I’m famished!”
“You,” Ozette said, “are going straight to the pond for a bath.”
Ariel grimaced. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she protested. “We drink from that pond.”
“Good point,” Ozette said. “Let’s see if Princess Abrianna can help us.”
Oliver sighed as they waved good-bye to the blue jays and headed off for help.
It had started sprinkling by the time the group reached the princess’s cottage. But instead of washing the skunk stink away, the rain only intensified it, so Ozette had to stay far upwind from her elf friend.
The princess was in her garden picking flowers and smiled as she saw Oliver and his friends approach. However, once she caught a whiff of the smell, her smile faltered and she began backing away.
“Please, Princess Abrianna,” Oliver said, his lower lip quivering. “I got sprayed by an albino skunk, and...well, I’ve had a terrible experience,” he said, too tired to explain the entire embarrassing episode again. “Do you have some herbal potion that will remove this smell?”
“Hmmm,” the princess said as she pinched her nose shut with one hand and thought deeply. She raised a finger, saying, “Perhaps. Let me see what I can do.”
Oliver started to follow the princess, but she wrinkled her nose and raised her hand to stop him mid-step.
“I’m sorry, Oliver, but you really do smell awful. There are some bumbleberry tarts and garbanzo legumettes in that basket over there, young elf. Help yourself while I mix up something.”
Oliver started stuffing food into his mouth as fast as he could. Now if only the princess could remove this skunk stink, he would once again be a happy elf.
Princess Abrianna returned shortly with her hands empty and shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Oliver, but I only have my Regular-Strength Stink-Away Tincture. It works on regular skunk stink, but I don’t think it would touch what you got into.”
Oliver hung his head. This wasn’t his fault. He was just trying to help Ozette. Now there was no way he could go to the Spring Fling smelling like this.
Just then Barnaby came flying up the path as fast as his wings could carry him, with Cassady racing close behind. They were both out of breath, and the elf was clutching a piece of paper in his hand.
“I think I know what we can do for Oliver,” he called. “This is my Great Great Granny’s special formula. When I heard about Oliver, I dug it out of an old recipe book she gave me.”
Ozette took the paper. It was a deskunking mixture of tomato juice, soapwort and essential oil of sage. She shook her head. “I don’t think this is strong enough, Bar– ”
The princess interrupted her. “Wait! If we add this to my Regular-Strength Stink-Away Tincture, together they might work.”
Oliver was excited, but a bit nervous. “Just what’s in that Regular-Strength Stink-Away Tincture?” he asked, thinking of some of the exotic ingredients in his potions.
“Oh, this and that. Tansy, spearmint, motherwort, skullcap, agrimony, mistletoe, goldenrod and honeysuckle. You know, the usual. I’ll also add some of these blue stones here,” she said, pulling four tu
rquoise stones from her pocket. “They will magnify the vibrations of the mixture and increase its potency. I’ll mix it all together and stir the concoction counter-clockwise for a bit.”
“But where can we get tomato juice in Farlandia?” Ozette said. “It’s too early for ripe tomatoes.”
The princess smiled. “I’ve a pantry full of whole tomatoes I canned last summer. And soapwort. Let’s not forget that. I had a bumper crop last year,” the princess said.
“How will we get juice from these tomatoes?” Oliver asked.
Ozette scrunched up her squirrelly nose and said, “This will be messy, but we can put the tomatoes into a washtub, then stomp up and down on them with our feet, until they turn to juice.”
The princess clapped happily. “Perfect! And I’ll make a strong soapwort tea and strain it, so you aren’t picking bits of leaves out of your hair for a week,” she said to Oliver. “Then we’ll add the soapy tea, sage oil and the herbal tincture to the juiced tomatoes. Oliver can jump in and soak until he smells better.”
Everyone nodded, anxious to help.
The princess grabbed an old washtub, holding her nose as she got near Oliver. She gave him an apologetic look and he grinned sheepishly. They dumped jars of tomatoes into the tub.
“I’ll get the ingredients stirred together while you smash the tomatoes,” she said, going inside.
The trouble started with the fairies getting a little too playful. Ariel pitched a ripe tomato at Sydney and hit her in the face, splattering tomato down her chin. Sydney retaliated and accidentally hit Ozette on the back, covering her beautiful white fur with red tomato goo. Even Cassady got into the act, running to and fro, slapping everyone with her tomato-covered tail and happily licking tomato bits off of her friends.
The tomato throwing continued for several more rounds until everyone was covered in bits and dripping red juice.
“Hellllooo?” yelled Oliver finally, from his perch downwind. “I want to get this stink off of me, so quit playing and get to work. Smash those tomatoes, don’t wear them!”
The chastised friends laughed and returned to stomping, mashing and smashing until there was nothing left but pulp.
As they stopped to rest, they looked at each other and burst out in giggles again. Now everyone was covered from head to toe with red froth!
Just then, the princess came outside with the rest of the concoction. She raised her eyebrows and shook her head, then added her mixture to the juiced tomatoes.
She turned around and gave Oliver the thumbs up, and he dove straight into the tub, tattered boxer shorts and all.
“I hope this works,” Ariel muttered, wrinkling her nose.
While Oliver bathed in the mixture, his tomato-covered friends dove into the princess’s pond and scrubbed and scrubbed to get the tomatoes off of their bodies and fur. Cassady dove underwater to rinse out a particularly large clump stuck behind her right ear.
Ozette grabbed some soapwort and scrubbed, wondering if she was scrubbing the fur right off of her squirrelly body. Then she climbed onto the bank and shook herself.
Meanwhile, Oliver washed his hair, his little elfin body and even his torn boxers. He lifted his arms and sniffed his armpits.
“Not bad, even if I do say so myself,” he said to himself. He scrubbed some more, just to be sure, then ran down the path as his friends climbed out of the pond. Oliver waved and dove into the pond for a final rinse. He looked no worse for wear, although his boxers were torn beyond repair from scrambling through the underground tunnel.
When his friends saw him, they approached cautiously, sniffing the air.
Ozette grinned. She hugged Oliver and he rewarded her with his brilliant smile, happy to be acceptable again.
Princess Abrianna invited her guests to a garden party, where they dined on toadstool tarts and lemon snappers.
After they had eaten, Oliver winked at Ariel. “Don’t tell Ozette,” he whispered, “but her fur has a decidedly pink cast.”
As the motley group bid the princess farewell, Oliver grabbed her hands and thanked her profusely for “de-stinking” him.
“That was some potent potion,” he quipped.
“My pleasure, Oliver. Now I have a new formula if this ever happens again,” the princess said with a wink.
Oliver shuddered and waved good-bye.
They were in good spirits, until Baby Fiona scrambled down a tree onto the path leading home.
“Is that you, Ozette?” she asked, looking puzzled at the animal on the trail.
“Of course, it’s me. Who did you think it was?” Ozette asked.
“Well, this may be rude of me to ask, but why is your fur pink?”
Ozette’s squirrelly eyes widened and she ran to a pond just off the path. Her friends heard a loud shriek as Ozette saw herself reflected in the pond.
“Oh no! My fur is ruined! I’ll never look like me again!”
“Oh, come on, Ozette,” Ariel chastened her. “You’re just a little pink. It’s a nice color on you. Brings out your dark eyes.”
The truth was, Ozette was a lovely shade of pink, but pink she was.
“I feel like a pink stuffed animal toy,” she muttered, as she sat down under a hickory tree.
The friends gathered around Ozette and broke out some dried-fruit snacks to cheer her up. However, their chatter inadvertently disturbed a number of birds napping nearby.
One of the birds, a large white owl, swooped down to the ground. “Ozette,” the snowy owl nodded in greeting.
“You recognize me!” Ozette said, relaxing for the first time since she’d seen her reflection.
The wise owl was a tactful bird, but also didn’t want to tell fibs. “You’re known by the company you keep,” he said sagely.
Ozette and her friends were pondering that bit of wisdom that was both literal and figurative when Melanie, a large black magpie, swooped down and tried to grab a tuft of fur off of Ozette’s rump.
“Ouch!” Ozette looked up, shocked.
“Oops, sorry,” the magpie said, looking baffled. “I thought you were a blob of cotton candy.”
Ozette lowered her head, her pink chin quivering. A fat tear rolled down her cheek. Then another. Faster and faster they fell. She cried so hard, a small creek formed on the ground below. Her friends watched in amazement as a flotilla of mice floated down the little creek on leaves, using twigs as oars.
“Oh, no,” Ariel muttered. She glared at the magpie, a creature known for blundering insensitivity, and hissed, “You’ve really stuck your foot in your beak this time.”
Oliver shook his fist at the thoughtless bird silently behind Ozette’s back.
The magpie slowly began to realize that she had better make amends.
“Blob! Did I say blob?” she chattered nervously. “What I meant to say was a puff – or a poof. That’s it – a small poof of lovely cotton candy.” She looked hopefully at Ozette and her friends to see if she had fixed her faux pas, but they just shook their heads.
Ozette had had enough. To everyone’s surprise, she suddenly scrambled up a tree and headed back to her nest, flitting from tree to tree as fast as her little pink legs could carry her, muttering to herself as she went. “Pink blob, indeed.”
She was unaware that Cassady was trotting along below, keeping a watchful eye on the distraught squirrel as she scrambled along the forest canopy. Ozette stopped to rest on the branch of her favorite hickory tree and looked over her squirrelly body. She surely was not a blob! When Ozette arrived home, she dove into her nest. Cassady lay down under the tree, resting her head on her paws and keeping watch over her upset friend.
Suddenly, something hard rained down on the big dog’s head. She sniffed and smelled jumbledberry scones. Cassady looked up quizzically and saw Ozette leaning out of her nest, throwing what appeared to be her entire food stash down to the ground below. Out went half of a neener-neener supreme, some walnutto wafers and her store of pecanettes that Oliver had baked. Cassady snarfed down every morse
l, feeling only a little guilty.
“Pink blob, harrumph!” Ozette muttered. “I’ll show them. I won’t come out of my nest until I’m thin as a twig.” Ozette stuffed leaves into her doorway so no one would disturb her and, ignoring her growling stomach, fell asleep.
She woke early the next morning to the sound of whispering outside her nest. She tossed aside the leaves and stuck out her head to find four of her best squirrel-girl friends – Daphne, Zoe, Luna and Nissa – perched on her branch.
“Go away. I’m staying in my nest until I’m not a pink blob,” she said crossly.
Daphne held out her paw kindly. “Come with us, Ozette.” Ozette shook her head. Daphne grabbed Ozette’s paw and pulled her out of her nest. “This is important and will just take a minute.”
Ozette reluctantly climbed down her tree with the squirrels, who then led her to a pond.
“Look at us, Ozette,” Daphne ordered.
Ozette looked at the four squirrels and shrugged her shoulders.
“Are we blobs?” Zoe asked.
“Of course not. You’ve normal squirrelly shapes, with lots of muscle from climbing. You look great,” she said.
“Look in the pond, Ozette,” Luna ordered.
Ozette stared at her reflection. “So what?” Ozette asked, noticing she was still pink.
“Look at your shape, Ozette,” Daphne said. “Compare it with ours.”
Ozette peered into the pond. She bit her lip. “Why, I look the same size as you! In fact, I’m thinner than you, Daphne,” she exclaimed. “I just overreacted at the magpie’s words, but realize now that she didn’t mean to be hurtful. All of us squirrels need a little extra cushion and muscle, and you are right…we all look just fine! OK, so I’m not a blob. But I am definitely pink!” she sighed. “I can’t go to the Spring Fling pink! We’ll just have to call it off,” she said sadly, wondering how canceling her coronation would affect her destiny.
“No way, Ozette,” Luna said determinedly. “We’re looking forward to your coronation. Besides, we want you to be our queen because of who you are on the inside, not the color of your fur or your shape.”
