“You KNOW her?” Marco said, staring at Butterbean. He had a feeling he’d missed a lot while he was asleep.
The tube-top raccoon waved shyly.“Hi, Butterbean.” She nudged one of the other raccoons. “She knows my NAME!” she whispered excitedly.
“You brought an ENTOURAGE?” Walt asked, turning on Reginald.
“Look, where I go, they go. It’s how we operate.” Reginald looked at the photo again. “So what’s your problem, exactly?”
“Look at that photo. Can’t you see how suspicious it all looks?” Walt said, lashing her tail in frustration. “The whole room is trashed except for ONE UNIT. And that’s the unit belonging to Mrs. Food and Madison.”
“Yeah, but who’s going to notice that,” Reginald scoffed. “We did you a favor.”
“MRS. HATES DOGS ON SIX NOTICED!” Butterbean barked. “She came over and was MEAN.”
“Oh, that lady,” Reginald rolled her eyes. “You know, she should’ve just been happy to get her stuff back. We made sure we put it out in a safe place. Right where it was easy to see.”
“Yes, about that,” Oscar said, controlling his voice carefully. “You put it out IN MRS. FOOD AND MADISON’S STORAGE UNIT.”
“WHICH WAS LOCKED,” Walt added.
“Well, yeah. Since that one wasn’t trashed, it would be easy to spot.” Reginald said. “Duh.” The other raccoons murmured in agreement. One of them plucked a few notes on what sounded like a ukulele.
Oscar shut his eyes.“You trashed the entire room. Except for the unit that belongs to Madison. You put the stolen merchandise in Madison’s unit. Which was locked. And one of the only people to have a key was Madison. And this is supposed to clear Madison’s name?”
It was like a light bulb went off over Reginald’s head. He made a face. “Oh. Yeah, that. Hmm. Yeah, that does seem kind of bad,” he admitted. “Okay, I see it now. So, what, should we trash your unit too? Because we can do that.”
The raccoons nodded and looked hopeful.
“Oh, Bob will LOVE that,” the white cat said sarcastically.
Oscar shook his head.“I don’t think that will work. Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six will just think Madison managed to sneak in somehow. That’s what she already thinks.”
“And Madison can’t even fit in the vents!” Butterbean said.
“We’ve got to come up with something else. Something big,” Walt said. A harmonica started playing somewhere in the corner of the room. “If we all work together, we can figure this out. I know we can.” The harmonica accompaniment continued as she spoke, this time punctuated by random notesfrom a musical triangle. It sounded like she was doing a dramatic speech from a movie.
“Madison is depending on us. We can’t let her down. We can’t just— Excuse me, do you mind?” Walt whipped her head around to look at the tall raccoon in the corner. He lowered the harmonica and blushed.
“Sorry about that,” the raccoon said, tucking the harmonica behind his back. He bowed his head in apology.
Ding! The stocky raccoon with the triangle accented the move.
Walt whipped her head around again.“You too, buddy.”
The raccoon clutched the vibrating triangle to his chest.
“Where’d you get that, anyway?” Butterbean asked, going over and examining the triangle. “Was that in the storage area?” She hadn’t realized raccoons were so musical. She sniffed at the triangle. It smelled like it belonged to Old Mothball Lady on two. Butterbean shrank back. She hated mothballs.
The stocky raccoon clung to the triangle protectively.“Reginald said we didn’t have to put things back, so it’s okay that I took it. Right?” He looked to Reginald for confirmation.
“Right.” Reginald nodded.
“So how many of you raccoons have instruments, anyway?” The white cat stood up and stalked around the room. “Is it just you two?”
The raccoons exchanged awkward looks, shrinking back as the white cat approached.
“Come on, don’t be shy. We’ve got a triangle and a harmonica. Anyone else?” The white cat stopped short in front of two fluffy raccoons hiding something behind their backs.
“Come on. Give. What is it?” The white cat loomed over them, somehow making herself look huge and fierce.
The raccoons held out a ukulele almost as big as they were.
The white cat nodded and then stalked back to Oscar. She sat down with a smirk on her face.
“Problem solved,” she said. “I know what we’re going to do.”
— 17 —
“YOU CALL THOSE HIGH KICKS? Get those legs up!” The white cat clapped her paws as she circled around a line of raccoons attempting to dance the can can. She turned to Oscar. “I always wanted to direct.”
Oscar couldn’t believe they’d actually agreed to the white cat’s plan. It was definitely risky. But it was the only plan they had.
Once they’d worked out everyone’s role in Operation Dazzle (which is what the white cat had named it), there had been one big problem left—finding a place for the rehearsal. Luckily the raccoons knew the perfect spot.
“I can’t believe we’re practicing in the STORAGE AREA,” Walt said, flattening her ears down and shooting a nervous look at the basement door.
“REHEARSING.” The white cat sounded disgusted. “We’re REHEARSING in the PERFORMANCE SPACE. And it’s FINE.” She clapped in time to the raccoons’ high kicks.
Since Mrs. Hates Dogs on Six had started threatening lawsuits, Bob had cordoned off the entire room. And according to the rats, that meant that it was the only place they were guaranteed not to be interrupted. The raccoons agreed.
The white cat had wasted no time setting up the performance space, as she called it, and getting to work. (She said“storage area” sounded unprofessional.)
“Are you sure this is the way we should do this?” Oscar asked, hopping to keep up with her. “I thought we were just going to adjust the surveillance camera so they would see the raccoons.”
The white cat stopped in her tracks.“Well, sure, but why go small when we could go BIG!” She pulled Oscar slightly to the side. “Besides, based on the screen test we did, you need my talents,” she whispered.
“We did a screen test?” Oscar looked at Walt. “When did we do a screen test?”
“That’s what she’s calling ‘checking the surveillance camera,’ ” Walt said, rolling her eyes. “I thought we could just catch the raccoons onscreen. But Madam Director here didn’t think it was good enough.”
“Do you want a couple of blurry raccoon-shaped blobs on film, or do you want SPECTACLE?” the white cat said. “Trust me, with my skills, these guys are going to POP.” The white cat made explosion motions with her paws. “These raccoons may not have the most talent, but with my vision, this is going to be HUGE.”
“Do we want huge, though?” Walt said in a low voice. “I thought we just wanted to clear Madison’s name.”
“Why can’t we do both?” the white cat said distractedly as she waved at a group of raccoons awkwardly holding instruments. “Let’s try it with the music now.” She clapped again.
Wallace and Dunkin slipped into the room from one of the vents.“We’ve got the rat costumes. Where do you want them?” Dunkin had his arms filled with tiny clothes, and Wallace held out the little sailor shirt he’d been wearing before. He shot an apologetic look at Oscar. “We’re just borrowing them. It’s for a good cause. We’ll put them back, I promise.”
“Rat costumes?” Oscar said slowly. “That seems—”
The white cat put a paw up to his beak.“Look, you have your role, I have mine. Just let me do my job. I’ve been in this business for a while, don’t forget.”
Oscar and Walt exchanged a long look.
The white cat leaned in again.“And I’m thinking the rats will be background performers. FAR in the background.”
“I suppose that’s… fine?” Oscar said (although his voice was muffled by the furry paw.)
“Sure. Why not,” Walt said with a shrug. She wasn’t about to argue with that cat. As long as Madison’s reputation was restored and everything got back to normal, it probably didn’t matter how they got there.