Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Sniff a Skunk!, Page 2

Mary Amato


  She laughed.

  Goo, Goo, Goop!

  We raced back down to the gift shop. Mr. Packard gave us a basket of cookies to deliver.

  “Take these to room 311,” he said. “Third floor.”

  Jillian took the cookies and smiled at me. “The third floor!” she whispered. “That’s where we want to go!”

  Kids, toddlers, and babies were on the third floor. My nose told me that some stinky diapers were hanging out there, too. “If only Stinkball could smell this, maybe she’d learn how to make stinkers of her own,” I said to Jillian.

  We found room 311 and walked in.

  A kid was in the bed. She was about five years old. Her mom was sitting next to her.

  “We have cookies for you,” Jillian said. “Sorry you’re in the hospital.”

  The girl didn’t smile.

  “She misses her friends and her school,” her mom said. “I can’t cheer her up.”

  “This calls for some funny faces,” I said.

  The kid looked at me.

  “Definitely not my mad, crazy baboon face,” I said. “Because that would scare the pants off you if you were wearing pants.”

  The girl smiled.

  “Maybe … my teenage mutant naked mole-rat faces! I have a whole bunch of those.”

  The girl’s smile got bigger.

  “You ready?”

  She nodded. I stuck my front teeth out and let the funny faces roll.

  The girl and her mom both laughed.

  Jillian handed them the cookies.

  “Thanks, guys,” the mom said. “You really helped.”

  We said good-bye and danced out the door.

  A nurse walked by with a baby in her arms.

  “Look!” Jillian said. We ran to catch up with her.

  “Excuse me,” Jillian said. “Is the nursery here?”

  “Yes.” The nurse smiled. “You can come and look in the window. I’m going there now.”

  We followed her.

  “Do you know if babies have ever been stolen from this hospital?” I asked.

  “My goodness!” The nurse gasped. “That would be terrible. I don’t know. I just started working here.”

  “How could we find out?” Jillian asked. “We’re learning about hospital safety.”

  “There’s an office on the first floor where they keep records of all the babies born here. You could go there.” The nurse stopped. “Here’s the nursery.”

  There was a room with a big window. The nurse took the baby inside. Through the window we saw a whole bunch of babies in little cribs! Some were bald. Some had hair. They were all cute. One little guy with fuzzy curls was crying.

  “Come on,” Jillian said. “Let’s go down to that office.”

  “Okay, but first let me cheer up that little guy.”

  I made my naked mole-rat faces.

  The baby stopped crying.

  “It worked,” I said. “I’m awesome.”

  “Newborns can’t even see,” Jillian said. “He stopped crying because that nurse just picked him up.”

  The nurse brought him over to the window so we could see him.

  I waved. “Babies and skunks love me,” I said to Jillian. “I have made several new tiny friends today.”

  My new tiny friend opened his mouth.

  “Aw. See, Jillian? He’s going to smile at me. Goo, goo!”

  Just then a big white stream of vomit gushed out of my new friend’s tiny mouth. The goop landed with a splash on the glass right in front of my face.

  I’ve never been so grateful for a window in my life.

  Bad Doctors

  “Come on,” Jillian said. “Let’s go to that office on the first floor and find out if we were stolen from here ten years ago.”

  I waved good-bye to the babies. “I’ll come back and visit you!” I said. “But I ain’t changing any stinking diapers!”

  Jillian laughed and pulled me along.

  Just as we got off the elevator on the main floor, two doctors walked out of a supply closet. They saw us and walked toward us.

  “Oh, no,” Jillian said. She turned so the doctors couldn’t see her and made a face.

  “Are you having a heart attack?” I asked. “Should I get one of the doctors to help?”

  “Those doctors aren’t doctors,” she whispered. “They’re our so-called parents. Ron and Tanya Crook! They must have tracked us here and changed into those disguises.”

  “Rats! I feel sick to my stomach,” I said.

  Jillian sighed. “Well, at least you’re in a hospital, bro.”

  “Hey, kids,” Dad whispered. “What are you doing here?”

  “We thought you were finding us a place to rob,” Mom said. “Don’t tell me you’re doing something nice! Are you visiting sick people?”

  “We—we—” Jillian couldn’t think of what to say.

  I changed the subject. “I bet you guys want to buy your kids a present!” I gave them my killer smile and stepped back into the gift shop. “Just look at these cute teddy bears.”

  The place was packed. Lots of people were buying gifts.

  Mom’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, I know why you’re here.”

  Jillian and I looked at each other.

  “You did find a new place to rob!” Mom said.

  “The hospital gift shop,” Dad said. “What a great idea. That cash register will be full by the end of the day!”

  “We’ll come back tonight and steal it all.” Mom gave us each a pat on the back. “You guys can go home now.”

  Mr. Packard walked over.

  In a loud, fake voice, Dad said to us, “We love the PeeWee Patrol. Thanks for coming in to help.” He turned to Mr. Packard. “These little PeeWees have to run home. We know their mommy and daddy, and they want them home for lunch.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Mr. Packard waved. “Come back again, PeeWees!”

  Mom and Dad walked us to the front door. “We’ll meet you at home later. We want to scope out where the security guards stand.”

  Sadly, Jillian and I walked out the door and headed for home.

  “I feel terrible,” she whispered.

  “Me, too,” I whispered back.

  “We didn’t find out if we were stolen from here as babies,” she said. “And now, because of us, the gift shop is going to get robbed.”

  “I don’t want that gift shop to get robbed. All the people in the hospital are so nice.”

  “I know,” Jillian said.

  As we turned the corner, we both heard a sound behind us.

  Tip, tip, tip …

  Someone was following us!

  We stopped walking, and the noise stopped. We started walking, and the noise started again. Tip, tip, tip …

  Jillian whispered, “I hope Mom and Dad aren’t spying on us.”

  “Let’s look,” I whispered. “On the count of three. One, two, three!”

  We both turned.

  My tiny friend Stinkball was following us again. She froze, putting her paws over her eyes.

  “Hi, Stinkball,” Jillian said.

  The skunk lowered her paws and blinked at us.

  “She looks sad,” Jillian said.

  Above us, the leaves in the tree rustled. The skunk looked up and started to shake.

  “She looks scared, too,” I added.

  “I wonder why she doesn’t defend herself,” Jillian said.

  “Maybe she got separated from her mom and dad before they could teach her,” I replied.

  “I think you’re right. Now Stinkball is following us because she is scared of that squirrel,” Jillian said. “She wants us to protect her.”

  “You can protect yourself, dude,” I told the skunk. “You have an awesome superpower. The superpower of stink! Use it or lose it!”

  Stinkball just looked up at us with her big black eyes.

  “I think she needs our help,” Jillian said. “Let’s teach her how to be a skunk. Then we can go home and figure out how to stop Mom an
d Dad from robbing that gift shop.”

  “It’s a plan.” I turned to the skunk. “Stinkball, we are going to teach you how to get stinky. If I can do it, you can do it!”

  The Skunk and the Punk

  “If we are going to help Stinkball, we need to learn more about skunks.” Jillian took out her smartphone. “Let’s do some research.”

  We found a park and sat down on a bench. Stinkball followed us and hid behind a garbage can. She kept peeking out, though. Stinky School was starting, and our student was listening.

  Jillian typed in the word skunk and found a page of skunk facts. “Okay, Stinkball, you eat at night and sleep during the day. So you should be sleeping right now.”

  Stinkball looked clueless.

  “It’s daytime, dude! You shouldn’t even be out. You should be sleeping. You know, snoozing, snoring, catching some z’s.” I hit the ground and started snoring.

  Stinkball tried it.

  “Good job!” Jillian said. “Okay, sleep during the day and eat at night. Got it?”

  Stinkball nodded. I jumped up. “Hey, what do skunks eat?”

  “Bugs, worms, fruit, plants …”

  I shook my head. “Dude, you don’t know what you’re missing. You got to chomp on a bacon cheeseburger.”

  Stinkball made a face.

  “Okay. Okay. Bugs it is.” I crouched down and looked in the grass. A black beetle was crawling around. “See? Your food isn’t going to jump into your mouth, dude. You got to hunt for it. Look down. What do you see?”

  Stinkball looked down.

  “See a bug? Just stick your face down in there and gobble it up.”

  Stinkball looked at me.

  “Don’t make me show you, dude.”

  Jillian laughed. “Show her. I dare you.”

  The beetle had dotted wings and hairy legs. I gazed down at it and thought: Sometimes a guy has to do what a skunk has to do. I took a deep breath, stuck my face down, and gobbled up that beetle.

  Jillian almost lost it. “Gross!”

  “Crunchy, but a little dry,” I said. “Could use some ketchup.”

  She laughed.

  Another bug popped up in the grass near the skunk.

  “Now, come on, Stinkball,” I said. “If I can do it, you can do it!”

  Stinkball pounced. And missed.

  “I think you’ll have to do a lot of practicing with Stinkball,” Jillian said.

  “Dude,” I said to Stinkball, “you are going to owe me big time.”

  Jillian went back to her research. “Okay. Here’s another fact. ‘Babies are born in late spring and stay with their moms until the fall.’ ”

  “Dude, where’s your mom?” I asked.

  “Oom, oom.” The skunk blinked.

  “Aw, that’s one sad sound,” I said.

  “Skunks sometimes carry rabies, so you should never try to pet one,” Jillian said.

  “Besides that, they stink!” I said.

  “Not really. It says here that they are very clean. They only spray to defend themselves,” Jillian said. “They can’t run fast, so they defend themselves with their aroma.”

  “Hear that, Stinkball?” I said. “Every time you see a squirrel, just let it rip.”

  “No,” Jillian said. “That’s not how it works. They don’t walk around spraying all the time. It’s a last resort. They have a whole routine for defending themselves.”

  “Hear that, Stinkball?” I said. “You have a whole routine. I can’t keep chasing away squirrels for you. You can defend yourself, okay?”

  Stinkball grabbed her tail. She looked like she wasn’t sure.

  “First you stomp your front feet,” Jillian said. “Then you raise your tail and arch your back and hiss.”

  “Cool. It’s like saying, Get out of my face, dude!” I stomped my feet, stuck my rear end out like I was raising my tail, then arched my back and hissed. “Now you try. Look tough when you do it.”

  Stinkball tried. She looked cute instead of tough.

  “Okay,” I said. “We’ll keep working on that.”

  “Here’s another fact,” Jillian said. “Sometimes skunks do handstands to scare off other animals.”

  “Handstands?” I laughed. “That’s like a ninja move!” I did a handstand and then popped back onto my feet. “Ai ya!” I did a karate chop in the air.

  Stinkball jumped onto her hands and fell over.

  “That’s okay—you’ll get it,” I said.

  “And if all of those things don’t work and the skunk is still threatened,” Jillian explained, “then it turns and sprays. You can spray up to ten feet, Stinkball.”

  “That is awesome!” I said. “I wish I could do that.”

  Jillian rolled her eyes. “You make bad enough stinks.”

  I turned around and stuck my rear end out again. “Just lift your tail and spray!”

  Stinkball turned around and wiggled her rear end.

  Nothing. Nada. Zip.

  Jillian’s phone buzzed.

  “It’s a text from Mom and Dad,” she said. “They’re home. They’re wondering why we’re not.”

  “Stinkball, we have to get home. But this lesson ain’t over,” I said. “Follow us and we’ll keep working on your ninja skunk moves.”

  “We have to keep this a secret, though,” Jillian said to Stinkball. “Our parents, Ron and Tanya Crook, would not like us doing a good deed for a skunk!”

  “If Stinkball does make a stink, we won’t be able to keep that a secret,” I said.

  Jillian patted me on the back. “That’s okay. They’ll just think it was you.”

  Stinky Style

  Home sweet home.

  “Stinkball, wait in the backyard.” I pointed. “We’ll be right out.”

  Our parents had changed into their regular clothes and were eating lunch.

  “Hey, guys, what took you so long?” Mom asked.

  “Jillian has big feet,” I said, “but they’re slow feet.”

  Dad laughed.

  “Thanks for the great idea to rob the gift shop,” Mom said.

  “Yeah. When we’re done with lunch, we’re going to take a nap so we’ll be ready for tonight!” Dad said.

  “Why don’t you guys practice that lesson on picking pockets we taught you?” Mom asked.

  “Okay,” Jillian said. “Let’s do it in the backyard, Billy.” She gave me a secret look.

  “The backyard!” I said. “Great idea.”

  We changed into our Crook clothes, and Jillian got supplies ready. As soon as we heard our parents go into their bedroom, we went outside.

  “Time for your lesson, Stinkball,” I said.

  “Okay, we’re going to start with some warm-ups,” I said. “Jog in place. Hup, two, three, four.” Jillian and I jogged in place. Stinkball looked at us like we were crazy.

  “Come on, dude,” I said. “Hup, two, three, four.”

  Stinkball started jogging.

  “All right. Now, when a bully comes, the first thing you do is stomp,” I said. “Let’s practice. We’re going to stomp twelve times! Hup, two, three, four.”

  We stomped twelve times. Stinkball stomped, too.

  “All right! Pump those arms when you stomp. Look tough. Let’s do it again!” I cheered.

  We stomped.

  “Now we’re going to make a hiss and put up our claws. Ninja style. Twelve times. Hup, two, three, four.”

  We hissed and clawed. Stinkball was getting it.

  “Let’s flex our arm muscles next.” I made a muscle.

  “I don’t think skunks really do that,” Jillian said.

  “But it looks cool,” I replied.

  We flexed our arm muscles. We looked cool.

  Stinkball was feeling more powerful. I could tell.

  “Okay, Stinkball. Now we’re going to put it all together,” I said.

  “Jillian, give me a beat with your great big feet,” I said. “A big whompy beat.”

  Jillian stomped her feet.


  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.

  I got the beat going in my feet.

  “You’re so cool. You’re so black.

  Got a white stripe down your back.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Do it Stinky style.”

  Stinkball looked at me like I was crazy. “Come on, Stinkball. You’re powerful. You just got to feel powerful. Start by pumping your legs up and down and showing off that white stripe. Pump. Pump. Pump. Come on, Jillian. You do it, too, so Stinkball gets the idea.”

  “You’re so cool. You’re so black.

  Got a white stripe down your back.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Do it Stinky style.”

  Stinkball started to get her groove going.

  “Okay now,” I said. “Here comes the next part.

  “Stomp your feet. Raise your tail.

  You got moves. You will not fail.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Do it Stinky style.”

  Jillian and I stomped our feet twice, popped our booties up, and flexed our arms.

  “Come on, do it with us!”

  We got the beat going again.

  “Stomp your feet. Raise your tail.

  You got moves. You will not fail.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Do it Stinky style.”

  Stinkball stomped her feet, raised her tail, and flexed her arms.

  “Oh, yeah. You got it!” Jillian said. “Okay, here we go.”

  “Make a hiss. Stomp your feet.

  Arch your back. Jump to the beat.

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Do it Stinky style.”

  To the beat, Stinkball made a hiss, stomped her feet, arched her back, and jumped!

  “Go, Stinkball!” Jillian said.

  “Okay, we’re saving the best for last,” I said.

  “Don’t be scared. Don’t be blinky.

  Turn around and make a stinky!”

  I turned around, stuck out my bootie like I was lifting my tail, and made a pssssst! sound.