Stand Up and Whistle

by Phyllis Perry

  “Exterminated? How?”

  “A pest control firm has been contacted to take care of it.”

  “Take care of it how?” Jeannie asked.

  “I believe they’ll administer a quick acting poison.”

  Jeannie gave a quick intake of breath. Her grip on the phone tightened. There! It was finally out in the open. The facts that no one seemed to want to face. The prairie dogs were going to be poisoned. Whistler would be killed.

  “And when is this extermination scheduled to take place?” Jeannie asked, still sounding official but unable to keep a slight tremble out of her voice.

  “Remember that we’re still hoping to avoid it. Perhaps it will be possible to find a way to relocate them, but if that remains impossible, the extermination will take place this Saturday morning at the Longview site.”

  “This Saturday!” Jeannie almost shouted into the phone.

  “That’s right. It’s got to be accomplished this weekend so that construction can begin on Monday morning. Time means money, you know, and our time to solve this prairie dog problem has just about run out. The extermination at the Willow Creek site will probably take place in another two weeks.”

  “Mr. Hathaway, you can’t do that!” Jeannie said. “Have you been there to see the prairie dogs? They’re darling little animals doing no harm to anyone. How can you kill them?”

  “I’m sure to the casual observer, they do look like harmless little creatures,” Mr. Hathaway said. “But if you look into this matter further, you may find that you’re suffering from some misperceptions, Ms. Broderson. You see, the truth of the matter is that prairie dogs are pests. They dig holes that endanger livestock, they carry disease—”

  “The truth of the matter is,” Jeannie said, interrupting him, “that researchers have found no proof that horses and cattle have ever been injured in prairie dog holes, nor is that likely to be the case.” Jeannie was happy she had remembered reading this particular article.

  “Ms. Broderson, if you investigate further, I think you’ll find they’re quite destructive varmints.”

  “Varmints!” Jeannie voice began to rise. Mary Jo signaled her with both hands to tone it down. Jeannie tried hard to get a grip on herself, remembering her promise to her father that morning to keep her cool no matter what. She stood up from the table, unable to sit still for a moment longer.

  “Mr. Hathaway, I want you to know that I feel . . .” She paused, searching for just the right word, “I feel disgust that a big company like Keelor Construction would sink so low as to poison innocent animals. Let this be fair warning that I’m going to do everything in my power to stop you!”

  Jeannie hung up the phone.

  “So it’s true?” Mary Jo said.

  Jeannie nodded angrily.

  “Jeannie, you’re right. We’ve got to stop them. We can’t let them get away with this.” Almost involuntarily, both girls turned and stared at the picture of Whistler pinned to the corkboard.

  To her surprise, in the midst of her fury, Jeannie felt a sudden calm. Something like the eye of the hurricane. The truth was out, and now she could act. Action was what Jeannie had been waiting for.

  “Okay,” she said. “Step one is to write a letter to the editor of the paper. When it’s done, we’ll bike down and hand-deliver it. And, if it’s okay with you, we’ll take one of your prairie dog photographs, too. Maybe they’ll print it.”

  “You think so?” Mary Jo asked, and flushed. Jeannie could tell that the thought of having one of her pictures printed in the paper was pretty exciting to her friend.

  “Maybe they won’t print it with a letter to the editor, but if they do a follow-up article, I’ll bet they use it. It’s got a lot of what they call ‘human interest,’” Jeannie said. “Well, prairie dog interest anyway, and I hope it’ll stir things up. Now, what’ll we say?” She pushed the paper and pen toward Mary Jo.

  Mary Jo took the pen and paused. “After they’ve read our letter, what do we want people to do?”

  “We want action. We want people to keep the phones ringing off the hook at Keelor Construction and at the County Commissioners’ office, too.”

  “Okay.” Mary Jo thought for a moment longer and then began to scribble. Jeannie watched over Mary Jo’s shoulder. She kept still so as not to interrupt her train of thought. Mary Jo soon had the letter done. “What do you think?” she asked.

  Jeannie read what Mary Jo had written so far.

  Dear Editor:

  We are writing about the plan to exterminate the prairie dog colony at Longview this weekend on property owned by Keelor Construction.

  Mark Hathaway, a spokesman for the company, says they had hoped to relocate these prairie dogs, but can’t find a place for them. So on Saturday they will all be killed. And Saturday won’t be the end of it. Soon after, the company plans to kill the prairie dogs at Willow Creek, too.

  Most people would want to save these prairie dogs if they knew how important they are. We’ve done research and know that the survival of 160 to 200 other animals is linked to prairie dog colonies. They are so important to the ecosystem that they are considered a keystone species. If the prairie dogs go, other animals and birds that depend on them will die, too.

  What can you do? You can call Keelor Construction and tell them what you think. And you can call your County Commissioners and demand that they take action. Save the prairie dogs!

  Mary Jo Matthews

  Jeannie Broderson

  “Great!” Jeannie said. “Here are the telephone numbers. Put them right in the letter and make it easy to call.”

  Mary Jo scribbled some more. “There.”

  “Perfect!” Jeannie said. “Mary Jo, you’re a genius.” She beamed at her friend. “I’ll take this and print it on the computer. We can both sign it and then bike down to the newspaper as fast as we can. It’s late, but we’ll beg them to put it in tomorrow morning’s paper.”

  Jeannie took the letter and ran toward her father’s study. Halfway there, she stopped and smiled at Mary Jo. “No,” she said, “on second thought, we won’t beg, we’ll demand!”

  Chapter Five

  Jeannie and Mary Jo waited quietly in the office of the newspaper editor, Mr. Collier, while he read their letter. They stood, because every chair was stacked high with towering piles of papers. Mr. Collier finally glanced up and held the picture of Whistler in his hand.

  He smiled. “Girls, you’ve written a good, forceful letter, and I’ll be happy to print it just as soon as there’s room.”

  “You have to print it tomorrow,” Jeannie said, inwardly groaning because he didn’t seem to be aware of the urgency of the situation.

  Mr. Collier gave her a startled look as if people didn’t often tell him what he had to do. He ran his fingers through his already tousled white hair. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost five o’clock and the editorial page has already been laid out. You see, we start running the presses before midnight to get the papers printed in time for our six o’clock morning delivery.”

  Jeannie exchanged a frantic glace with Mary Jo and thought, Layouts, deliveries, deadlines. He’s missing the point. “It’s a matter of life and death,” Jeannie said. “The poisoning will take place first thing Saturday morning. Even with the letter appearing in tomorrow morning’s paper, that’s only forty-eight hours’ notice for people to do something about it. We’ve got to get the word out if there’s to be any chance to stop this murder!”

  Mr. Collier looked at Jeannie gravely, but she thought she saw his blue eyes twinkle. “You drive a tough bargain, young lady. Tell you what I’ll do. It’s too late to undo the editorial page, but on the page opposite the letters to the editor we sometimes print a guest editorial. I’ll bump something and put your letter there, along with this picture. That should get some attention.”

 
“Really? Thank you!” Jeannie said, breathing freely for the first time since she’d entered the office. “Oh, Mr. Collier, it means so much to me.”

  “I can see that,” he said. “Those prairie dogs are lucky to have you on their side. Plus, I think we have a story here. I’ll send a reporter out to the construction site Saturday morning to do a follow-up.”

  “That would be wonderful, Mr. Collier,” Mary Jo said. It was the first time she’d opened her mouth since they’d entered the office.

  Triumphant, the girls turned and left, walking down the steps to the ground floor and then out into the parking lot where they’d parked their bikes in a rack.

  “Wow!” Mary Jo said, shaking her head in admiration. “They’re going to print our letter in tomorrow’s paper.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty neat of him to agree to print it as a guest editorial and include your photograph. I really think that’s what convinced him. I told you that picture had a lot of appeal.”

  Mary Jo blushed. “He did seem to like it.” Then her smile faded away as quickly as it had come. “Oh, Jeannie, I hope it works.”

  “It’ll take more than hope,” Jeannie said. “I looked up the offices of the Animal Defense Fund, and they’re only about four blocks away. Let’s go there next. We can leave our bikes here and walk right over.”

  “Can’t,” Mary Jo said. “I’m supposed to be home by five. As it is, I’ll probably be a little late.”

  “Okay,” Jeannie said, “Wish me luck!”

  Mary Jo gave her a high five.

  The Animal Defense Fund proved to be a little hole-in-the-wall office between a used bookstore and an antique shop. Jeannie’s spirits rose when she saw lights on, but she hesitated outside. What was she going to say? How could she convince some grown-up stranger to act to save the prairie dogs, and to act fast?

  Jeannie stood for a moment at the storefront window organizing her thoughts. There wasn’t an indecisive bone in her body. She knew she had to do this. A lot was at stake. Jeannie opened the door and walked inside.

  In the front of the office was a somewhat battered couch, a chair, and a coffee table. There were racks along the wall filled with pamphlets all dealing with protecting animals. A tall countertop separated this entry area from an office space. A woman sitting at a computer turned her head and rose as Jeannie walked forward.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  When the woman stood, Jeannie was surprised to see how tall she was, probably six feet. She was thin with black hair. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved denim shirt, and she had a great smile.

  Jeannie smiled back, trying to exude a confidence that she didn’t feel. “My name’s Jeannie Broderson, and I need help.”

  Jeannie filled the woman in on what she had learned about the prairie dogs and the danger that they faced at the two construction sites.

  A flood of relief washed over Jeannie when the woman said, “You’ve come to the right place. Come on back here and let me take a few notes. I’m Betsy Keasley. Call me Betsy.” She put out her hand and shook Jeannie’s.

  Jeannie felt proud and amazed. This woman was taking her seriously, treating her like she had something worthwhile to say.

  “Animal Defense is staffed by volunteers. I came this afternoon to work a few hours on our monthly newsletter. I’m glad I happened to be here, because we’re going to have to act fast.”

  Jeannie already liked this woman. She’d just used two of her favorite words, “act” and “fast.”

  Betsy led Jeannie to an extra chair by the desk where she’d been working at the computer. She quickly wrote down Jeannie’s address and phone number and Mary Jo’s. Jeannie took from her backpack the notebook with the Keelor Construction number in it and gave that to Betsy as well as Mark Hathaway’s name.

  “Okay,” Betsy said. “I have what I need to get started. I’m going to really have to get busy on the telephone to turn out people with signs at the Keelor Construction site by eight o’clock Saturday morning.”

  “I’ll try to get some kids at school to come, too,” Jeannie said. “But I don’t know how many are interested. And Mr. Collier, over at the newspaper office, said he’d follow through and send a reporter on Saturday morning. I hunted up the addresses of the County Commissioners so I can e-mail them.”

  “Great!” Betsy said. “But don’t hold your breath waiting for a lot of help from the commissioners. It’s not easy to get their attention. Here’s my home number. Call if you think of anything else or just want an update on anything I’ve learned. And thanks for coming, Jeannie. The construction company’s managed to keep this awfully quiet. This is the first I’ve heard of a possible poisoning.”

  “I notice you have a lot of pamphlets,” Jeannie said as she started for the door. “Could I take a few on the prairie dogs to share with the kids at school?”

  “Sure,” Betsy said. “Help yourself.”

  By the time Jeannie gathered some pamphlets, Betsy was already in earnest conversation with someone on the telephone, and Jeannie was feeling more optimistic than she had in days.

  Maybe the poisoning could be stopped.

  After dinner, Jeannie called Mary Jo and brought her up to date.

  __________

  When Jeannie met Mary Jo the next morning at school by their lockers, both girls were waving a copy of the morning paper. Both started talking at once, adding to the babble that filled the halls. They laughed.

  “You first,” Mary Jo said.

  “I wonder if any of the kids read our letter in the morning paper.” Jeannie asked. “In fourth period, I’m going to ask Mr. Donelson if we can talk to the class about it and invite them to make signs and come out to protest on Saturday morning.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Mary Jo said. “Not so fast. Ask if you can talk. Remember, I don’t speak or sing in public.”

  Jeannie let that comment pass. She went into more detail about what had happened at the Animal Defense office and how much she liked the woman there.

  “Now, it’s my turn,” Mary Jo said. “I get to miss school all day tomorrow! I’ll have my eyes examined in the morning and get my contacts. Then in the afternoon, Mom will us drive out to the airport to pick up Karen! I can hardly wait.”

  “Cool,” Jeannie said. She glanced at her watch. “We’d better get moving or we’ll be late to math.”

  During second period social studies, Jeannie waited until everyone was busy with their assignment on world geography and ancient civilizations and then she went up to Mrs. Woodley’s desk.

  “Mrs. Woodley,” she said. “I wonder if you have time to talk with me sometime today?”

  Mrs. Woodley smiled up at her before she said, “Might this have something to do with the article I read in the paper this morning?”

  “Yes,” Jeannie said. “I could really use some help with how to approach the County Commissioners.”

  “Why not come here to my room after you’ve finished lunch,” Mrs. Woodley suggested. “We can talk then.”

  “Great! I’ll be here,” Jeannie promised. She returned to her desk.

  When Jeannie and Mary Jo walked into Mr. Donelson’s fourth period science class together, the guest editorial with the picture of Whistler was already pinned on the bulletin board. Jeannie stopped by the teacher’s desk to ask if she could talk to the class about joining in the poisoning protest on Saturday.

  “Sure,” Mr. Donelson agreed. “I’ll save some time at the end of the period. But remember,” he cautioned, “you’ll be on your own. As a public school teacher, I can’t encourage or discourage student political action. So don’t be surprised when I keep quiet.”

  Usually Jeannie loved science. It was her favorite subject. But today, she couldn’t wait for the period to end so that she could talk to the class.

  Finally, Mr. Donelson said, “Now if everyone’s clear
on their assignment for tonight and there are no questions, I’d like you to give your attention to Jeannie. Some of you may have seen the guest editorial and photo that she and Mary Jo had in today’s paper.” He pointed to the bulletin board.

  All eyes turned her way, as Jeannie took her place over by the editorial pinned to the board.

  “Mary Jo and I are doing our western animal report on prairie dogs,” she began. “We went to Willow Creek last week to take some pictures of the prairie dog colony there. That’s when we found out, by accident, that Keelor Construction thinks prairie dogs are pests. As a matter of fact, they think they’re such big pests that they’re planning to poison them all.”

  Jeannie heard a general murmur travel through the room. For the moment, at least, she’d caught their attention.

  “Are you sure about that?” Chester Hartung asked.

  Before she could answer, someone else chimed in. “Hey! No one would do that!”

  “It’s true,” Jeannie said. “I talked with a representative from Keelor Construction Company on the phone yesterday. He told me that the prairie dogs at Longview would be poisoned this Saturday morning.”

  “My dad works construction,” Bobby Watson called out. “He’s going to be working on the Mile High Mall. He needs this job. There hasn’t been much work around here lately. If they have to get rid of some dumb prairie dogs to get the work started, I say do it.”

  Jeannie stood there for a moment, stunned. She felt under attack. Then she found her voice again. “Dumb? Prairie dogs aren’t dumb. They have the most complex language of any animal; they talk to one another. I don’t want to stop the construction of the mall. I just want to save the animals.”

  “Couldn’t they move the prairie dogs?” Geoff Yegian asked.

  Jeannie looked at Geoff gratefully. That was the kind of question she had hoped for. “Yes, as a matter of fact the construction company said they planned to move them but ran out of time. What we need to do is stop the poisoning until a home can be found for them. The Rocky Mountain Animal Defense Fund will have people there at eight o’clock on Saturday morning with signs protesting the poisoning. I’m hoping some of you will make signs and come, too.”