Stand Up and Whistle

by Phyllis Perry

  Stand Up and Whistle

  Phyllis J. Perry

  Amberjack Publishing

  New York, New York

  Amberjack Publishing

  228 Park Avenue S #89611

  New York, NY 10003-1502

  http://amberjackpublishing.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, fictitious places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Phyllis J. Perry

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, in part or in whole, in any form whatsoever without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

  Names: Perry, Phyllis Jean, author | Grochalska, Agnieszka, illustrator.

  Title: Stand up and whistle / by Phyllis J. Perry ; illustrated by Agnieszka Grochalska.

  Identifiers: ISBN 978-0-9972377-5-7 (pbk.) | ISBN 978-0-9972377-0-2 (ebook) | LCCN 2016930497.

  Description: New York [New York]: Amberjack Publishing, 2016.

  Subjects: LCSH Prairie dogs--Juvenile fiction. | Animal rights--Juvenile fiction. | Wildlife conservation--Juvenile fiction. | Adventure stories. | Animal rescues –Juvenile fiction. | BISAC JUVENILE FICTION / Nature & the Natural World / Environment.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.P4359 Sta 2016 | DDC [Fic] –dc23

  Cover Design: Jerilyn Hassell Pool

  Illustrations: Agnieszka Grochalska

  Printed in the United States of America

  For Emily.

  Chapter One

  Jeannie couldn’t resist whistling back at the plump, light brown prairie dog that stood on his hind legs watching her from a mound outside its burrow. The prairie dog cocked his head and stared back at her with bright eyes.

  Jeannie heard the snapping of a camera beside her. Her best friend, Mary Jo, clicked and caught the whistler.

  “Look!” Jeannie said. “They’re popping out of their holes like action figures in a video game!” One after another, the prairie dogs bobbed up. Others dove down, and some scurried about, pausing to stand on their hind legs and stare at the laughing girls.

  Jeannie and Mary Jo had just walked into this open field from the bus stop. They had ridden from Boulder to the neighboring small town of Willow Creek. Their first big assignment of seventh grade was to write a report on animals of the West.

  “I’m glad you remembered this prairie dog town,” Mary Jo said. “Let the other kids write about bison and mountain lions while we write about our neighbors, the prairie dogs.”

  “Right,” Jeannie agreed. “I hope you get some good pictures!”

  “I’ll take a lot, so we’re bound to get some good ones. But they move so fast, it’s hard to get a good picture that’s in focus. Anyway, it’s close, so if we don’t get what we want today, we can always come back again next week.”

  A surveyor standing not far away in the field turned his head on hearing this last comment. “If you girls want pictures of these pesky prairie dogs, you’d better take all you want right now,” he said. “Next week may be too late.”

  Jeannie glanced at the man and wondered how he could call these adorable little animals pesky. Anybody could see they were too cute for words.

  “Why? What’s happening next week?” Jeannie asked, keeping her eye on the prairie dogs.

  The man turned to face the two girls and said, “In a week, or two at the most, they’ll all be dead. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  Jeannie whirled around to face him. “What do you mean?”

  Mary Jo, who had just pointed her camera at one of the prairie dogs, lowered it again without snapping the picture, and also turned to the man.

  “I meant just what I said,” the man continued. “They’ll be dead. Kaput! Goners!” He wore a malicious smile as if he’d enjoyed shocking them. Then he turned abruptly from the girls and began peering through his telescope-looking transit, writing down some numbers, and looking toward another man who was waiting patiently down at the end of the field.

  Jeannie stared at Mary Jo, and Mary Jo stared back.

  “Excuse me,” Jeannie persisted. Her heart was racing, and she could feel color flooding her cheeks with indignation. She walked right up to the man. “I don’t get it. What do you mean these prairie dogs will be dead in a week or two?”

  The surveyor stepped back from his tripod and faced Jeannie. “This is the site of Keelor Construction,” he said, “one of the biggest commercial builders in the state of Colorado.” He pointed to a sign emblazoned with the company name that was planted at the corner of the lot.

  “There’s going to be a shopping center built here. Mile High Mall. A first for the town of Willow Creek. It’s a big deal. Once it’s built, people won’t have to drive off to some other city to spend their money. Taxes will be good for the town. You’ve heard about the new Mile High Mall, haven’t you?”

  “Sure, I have,” Jeannie said. “Everybody’s heard about it.”

  “Well, before we bulldoze this field and level it to pour foundations for the new buildings, we have to get rid of these rodents. They’re all over here.” He waved his arm indicating the breadth of the field.

  “How?” Jeannie asked him. “How are you going to get rid of them?”

  “Poison,” the man said nonchalantly.

  Mary Jo’s big brown eyes, behind her glasses, grew even bigger. “You’re going to poison them? How could you?”

  “No, not me, miss. That’s not my job. I don’t know just who, exactly when, or how they’ll do it. But it’ll happen within the next few weeks. You can count on it. Why are you girls out here taking their pictures anyway?” he asked, eyeing them with sudden suspicion.

  “We’re doing a science report for school,” Jeannie answered. “We bike out this way sometimes on weekends and remembered there was a whole colony of them living out here.”

  “You’re right about that,” the surveyor said. “A real infestation.”

  “You know there used to be billions of prairie dogs on the Great Plains,” Jeannie said. “The early explorers wrote about them in their journals and had lots of different names for them.”

  “Well, I have a few names for them, too,” the surveyor said. “Pest and nuisance are the first that come to mind. This field is absolutely riddled with tunnels these little devils have dug. Good riddance, I say. I hear they’re causing the same kind of problem over in Longview at the Keelor construction site there, too. Now if you’ll excuse me, young ladies, I have to get back to work.” He turned from the girls and peered into his transit again.

  Jeannie glared at the man’s back. What a creep he was! Didn’t he have any normal feelings?

  “We’d better get our pictures while we can,” Mary Jo said, and she lifted the camera that was hanging from a strap around her neck and began snapping pictures again.

  Just then, another prairie dog emerged from a tunnel and came up to the one that had whistled. The new arrival rubbed noses with the whistler and seemed to give it a kiss. Mary Jo snapped their picture. “They must be ‘kissing cousins,’” she said.

  Jeannie didn’t respond. The fun had gone out of watching them. The surveyor’s words kept reverberating in her head. Dead. Dead. Dead.

  Then another prairie dog popped out of a mound and stood up and chirped. Jeannie looked carefully at the newcomer.
He was only about a foot long, with short legs, and a buff-colored coat of fur. He had a short, black-tipped tail and was standing on a cone-shaped mound near a hole, which must have been the entrance to his home.

  As Jeannie stared at the prairie dog, he stared back at her. He seemed to be as curious as she was. Then another popped out of its hole. Then another and another.

  “Wow! They’re everywhere,” Jeannie said.

  Mary Jo clicked away.

  “I think I’ve got plenty of pictures,” she finally said.

  Jeannie led the way back to the corner of the lot. “Go ahead and take a picture of this construction company sign, will you?” she asked.

  “What do you want a picture of that for?”

  “It has their address and phone number on it,” Jeannie explained. “I didn’t bring any paper and pencil, and I may want to get in touch with them.”

  Obligingly, Mary Jo snapped a picture. “Why?” she asked.

  Instead of answering, Jeannie asked, “Do you think that surveyor has his facts right? That they’re really going to poison all these prairie dogs?”

  “I dunno,” Mary Jo said, glancing back at the surveyor, as they continued walking away. “He works here, and he seemed to know what he was talking about.”

  “Well, I think that’s awful,” Jeannie said. “Killing all those animals. What gives Keelor Construction the right to do that?”

  “I guess they own the land,” Mary Jo said as they walked down the street.

  “But it’s mass murder, that’s what it is,” Jeannie insisted. “They may own the land, but that doesn’t give them the right to kill what lives on it.”

  As the number 6 bus approached, the girls ran for it, Mary Jo’s dark brown braid bouncing against her back. Quickly, they climbed on and found a seat to share near the back. Jeannie, blonde, thin, and wiry, slid into the window seat. Plump Mary Jo sat on the aisle.

  “I’ll check these pictures on my computer and narrow it down a little. And I’ll do some cropping, too,” Mary Jo said. “I’ll print some. Monday after school, you can come over and we’ll pick the ones we want to include in the report.

  “Good. I’ll bet you’ve got some great shots.” Jeannie smiled at her friend. “And I think we’re near geniuses for coming up with this idea of writing about animals that live so close. Your photos will add a lot.”

  “Hope so,” Mary Jo said.

  “Those prairie dogs have had a whole underground town out there for who knows how long,” Jeannie continued. “I can’t believe someone’s going to poison them. They wouldn’t dare.”

  “I can believe it,” Mary Jo said. “I mean, who knows about it? Who’s going to stop them? Who cares?”

  “I do,” Jeannie said. “I care a lot.”

  __________

  As Jeannie walked to school on Monday, foremost in her mind was talking to her science teacher about the prairie dogs. She couldn’t bear the thought of some construction company poisoning the whole colony. Something had to be done, and Jeannie planned to do it.

  But the moment she stepped inside the school and headed for her locker, Jeannie couldn’t help but notice the signs taped up everywhere in the halls announcing auditions for the Fall Extravaganza. DayGlo posters papered the halls urging everyone to audition for the first big show of the school year.

  Mary Jo was already at their locker, and she smiled a greeting. “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey! This is it,” Jeannie said, pointing to a poster across the hall. “This is the year you audition for the talent show, Mary Jo!”

  “No way,” Mary Jo said, as she began to spin the combination lock.

  “Look,” Jeannie said patiently, “you’ve got a great voice. You should be in the show. Last year when we were sixth graders, you said, ‘only the older kids get to be in it.’ Well, this year we’re seventh graders. You’re going to audition, and that’s that.”

  “There’s no point,” Mary Jo said.

  “What do you mean?

  “There’s no point in making a fool of myself. You know how it works. Mrs. Green, the music teacher, and Miss Rafferty, the Drama Club sponsor, choose the kids who help them do the selecting. They always pick kids from the ‘in’ crowd. And those kids would never ask me to be in the show.”

  “Why not?” Jeannie asked. “You’ve got a beautiful voice. You can sing a really great song from some interesting musical that will amaze the audience, and your voice teacher can help you with it. You won’t fail. I’ll even accompany you on the piano if you want.”

  “I won’t even get picked,” Mary Jo said. She flung open the locker door and slipped off her backpack. She pulled out her math book and notebook, and hung the pack on the left hook on the side of the locker.

  Jeannie slipped out her notebook and math book, too. She looked at her friend. “You’ve got to give it a try,” she insisted.

  “No, I don’t,” Mary Jo said. “I don’t have to stand there in front of them and let them turn me down.”

  “But they won’t.”

  “Of course they will,” Mary Jo said. “They’ll pick kids like Emma, Charlotte, and Lucas. And Ryan Watson, who thinks he’s so funny, will probably be the emcee. They’ll take one look at me and burst out laughing. They don’t want somebody who’s overweight and wears glasses. They want a cheerleader type.”

  “It’s not a beauty contest,” Jeannie said. Then she flushed and felt embarrassed as she realized that wasn’t exactly the most complimentary response. She stared at her friend. She envied Mary Jo’s long brown hair. Out of its braid, it was wavy and thick, while her own blond hair was straight and thin. Jeannie admitted it would be cool if Mary Jo could ditch those glasses. She knew Mary Jo had been begging for contacts for months without success. “You look fine,” she went on. “What they’re looking for is talent. And you’ve got plenty of that.”

  Mary Jo slammed the locker shut and the two of them hurried down the hall to their first class. Jeannie didn’t say anything more because Mary Jo held her mouth clamped shut. But Jeannie did not give up on anything easily. She was determined to get her friend up on that stage this year. It was time the secret of Mary Jo’s tremendous talent got out.

  Science was the last class of the morning block. Before they left the room and headed for lunch, Jeannie stopped by Mr. Donelson’s desk and made an appointment to talk with him right after school. At quarter after three, the girls met at the locker, packed up the books they needed for homework, and went to room twenty-nine. Mr. Donelson was waiting for them.

  “Hi, girls,” he said. He was busy erasing the messy blackboard. He erased energetically, like everything he did, and some of the chalk flew down on him. It didn’t show on his black hair that was peppered in white. “How are things going with the report?”

  “Okay,” Mary Jo said.

  “We’ve found a lot of books with information about prairie dogs, and we’re off to a pretty good start,” Jeannie said. “But we’ve run into a problem.”

  “Oh, what is it?” Mr. Donelson asked, putting down the eraser and rubbing his hands together to rid himself of chalk dust.

  Jeannie quickly told him about their Saturday visit to the prairie dog colony and what the surveyor had said. She concluded by asking, “Do you think the surveyor was right when he said they were going to poison all those prairie dogs? And if he was, isn’t there something we can do about it?”

  Mr. Donelson looked serious. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re thinking about this. First thing is to be sure you’ve got your facts straight. How can you do that?” he asked.

  “I guess I could call up Keelor Construction and ask what their plans are for the prairie dogs,” Jeannie said.

  “And that may not be easy,” Mr. Donelson said. “You’ll probably get a secretary who doesn’t know the answer to your question. So you’ll have to expect to
make a few more calls before you can get hold of someone who does know. It’s going to take some persistence.”

  Mary Jo laughed. “Persistence is Jeannie’s middle name.”

  Jeannie smiled. The fact that she was stubborn had been pointed out to her more than once. “I can handle that,” she said. “But what if they are planning to poison the whole colony? Is there anything we can do about it?”

  “First things first,” Mr. Donelson said. “There’s no need to work out an elaborate plan to solve a problem if the problem doesn’t exist, is there? Find out what you can, and then let’s talk about it again.”

  “Okay,” Jeannie said.

  “Thanks, Mr. Donelson,” Mary Jo said.

  The two girls left the building and started home.

  “Our pictures are in pretty good shape, I think,” Mary Jo said. “I cropped and printed some of them. We can pick them up and you can choose how many and which ones you think we should include in the report.”

  At Mary Jo’s house, they went to her room, and they looked at a pile of pictures.

  The two girls sat side by side and looked at each shot.

  “Great pictures!” Jeannie finally said.

  “Look at this one,” Mary Jo said, picking one from the pile. “I caught them kissing!”

  Jeannie laughed. “I was reading about that last night,” she said. “When two prairie dogs meet, they bare and touch teeth as a way of recognizing each other.”

  “I prefer to think they’re kissing,” Mary Jo said. “Oh, and look! Here’s a great one of the whistler!”

  Quickly they sorted through the pile and picked out their favorites. Jeannie stared at the prairie dogs and couldn’t help wondering, Would they all be dead in a week?

  Chapter Two

  Once they’d picked up the photos of the prairie dogs, the girls headed for Jeannie’s house, which was only a block away. Jeannie used her key to the house to let them in. After shucking off their backpacks, Jeannie went directly to the fridge and poured them each a tall glass of lemonade. It had been a long, hot walk home in the sun.