Duck the Halls(5)

“Not what I’ve heard,” another firefighter said.

“Besides,” Chief Featherstone said. “Mr. Dandridge says there are multiple skunks. We have no idea if they all sprayed him or if some of them didn’t and are just waiting to go after the next person to stick his nose in the choir loft. Anyone want to take that chance?”

The firefighters fell silent.

“So we wait for animal control,” Chief Burke said.

“Do you have any more questions?” Dad asked. “Because I’d like to transport him to the hospital.” Dad looked at his watch. “The ophthalmologist will be meeting us there within the half hour.”

Both chiefs nodded their approval. Dad packed his bag and hopped into the back of the ambulance. The two medics helped Mr. Dandridge in. Then they conferred briefly, and one stepped into the back of the ambulance with the patient. The other almost skipped on his way to the less odorous driver’s seat. Michael and another firefighter came running up.

“Wait a sec,” Michael called. “We’ve got his change of clothes.”

The back door of the ambulance opened. Dad leaned out to take the clothes, and looked around until he spotted me.

“Meg,” he said. “Your grandfather’s in my car. Could you see that he gets home safely?”

“Why in the world did you bring him along?” I asked. While Grandfather was hale and hearty for someone in his nineties, I didn’t think either the weather or the hour were suitable for dragging him out of his comfortable bed in my parents’ guest room.

“I didn’t exactly bring him,” Dad said. “He heard the sirens. And when I got out to the car, he was already sitting there, ready to go. No use even trying to talk him out of coming. And once we figured out there was no fire, he decided to stay in the car and sulk.”

He sounded uncharacteristically exasperated—with me, or with his headstrong father? No telling. He slammed the door and the ambulance set out, steering a careful course through the growing throng of onlookers.

“Well, that might solve the skunk removal problem,” I said to the chiefs.

Chief Featherstone looked puzzled and glanced at Chief Burke as if seeking enlightenment.

“Meg’s grandfather is Dr. Montgomery Blake,” Chief Burke explained. “A very distinguished zoologist.”

“Blake?” Chief Featherstone frowned slightly, no doubt puzzled that Dad and his father had different surnames. Since he was new in town, presumably he hadn’t already heard about how Dad had been abandoned at birth, adopted, and only recently reunited with his long-lost father. Then he spoke again.

“The one you always see on Animal Planet?” he asked. “Getting bitten and peed on by exotic animals?”

“That’s him,” I said. “And I happen to know he’s particularly fond of skunks. He likes their attitude.”

“I’m glad someone does,” Chief Burke said. “Could you ask him if he’ll help, please?”





Chapter 3


I took my time approaching Dad’s van. I had misgivings about the whole idea of involving Grandfather in the skunk removal. Yes, he was a seasoned zoologist, but he’d also spent years filming nature documentaries. No documentary about skunks would be complete without showing how they sprayed their would-be attackers. And that was precisely what we wanted to avoid. What if Grandfather forgot, even momentarily, that there weren’t any cameras rolling?

Dad had left the van running, obviously so the heat would stay on. Grandfather had reclined the front passenger seat as far as it would go and was fast asleep and snoring vigorously.

“Grandfather?” I touched his shoulder gently.

He started upright.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked. “Where’s James?”

“Dad went to the hospital with his patient,” I said.

“Well, take me home, then,” he said. “Nothing to see here. So much for your big exciting fire. Should have stayed in bed and taken care of my cold.”

“I can take you right away,” I said. “Unless you feel up to helping us with a wildlife problem.”

“Ah! What’s the problem?” He unfastened his seatbelt and buttoned up his coat.

“Skunks. There are skunks in the church.”

“Impossible.”

“Impossible?” Couldn’t he smell them? Oh—the head cold. I wasn’t sure whether to order him back into bed or envy him his apparent immunity to the prevailing stench.

“Or at least highly unlikely,” he continued, as he reached over and pulled the seatbelt back across his body. “They’d all be asleep.”