STORY: The Stinker

By
Nivi Engineer

Mama, don’t go. I want to stay here with you. I tilt my head and look past the soft folds of my mother’s white skirt and aquamarine shawl with the knots and the strings in little bunches. The shawl and skirt are so soft. Her off-the-shoulders white blouse makes her so beautiful. She bends down and faces me.
She tells me it’ll be okay. I wrap a lock of her long, wavy black hair around my finger.
Don’t go, Mama. I put my hands on her cheeks.
She picks me up and sets me down on a cold, metal folding chair – tan – and my feet dangle. She puts her hands on my cheeks and kisses my forehead before turning and rushing away.
Even with all the talking and music and chairs being dragged across the gym floor, all I hear is the tap-tap-tap-tap of my mother’s high heels – red – and the clanging of her large silver bracelets.
When it stops the room falls silent. But not really. The noise grows louder and louder around me and in my head and, all alone in a crowded gym, I let out a scream of tears.
Helen sat up suddenly in her bed, cheeks wet. It was still dark outside. She lay down, found her stuffed cheetah, and hugged it to sleep.

* * * * *

Helen heard yelling. They think they are being quiet, she thought, but they’re not. Papa is saying that we have to leave, and Maria says she can’t go.
“There are too many reminders; she will never move on,” said her father.
Is he talking about me?
“You can’t run away from your problems, Hector,” said Maria.
Helen hugged Cheetah tightly and felt his soft face on hers. “It’s okay, Cheetah. We’ll be all right. This is how it is with all of Papa’s friends. They all say goodbye. But we still have Papa, and I have you. We’ll be all right.”
A sliver of light from the hallway shone on Helen’s face as the door opened and she pulled the covers over her head. She heard someone walk in. It must be Maria coming to say goodbye. I like Maria; I’ll miss her.
“Helen, dear,” said Maria. “Are you awake?”
Helen turned away from the door and uncovered her head, but didn’t open her eyes. Maria sat on the bed and ran her hand over Helen’s hair. It feels nice, thought Helen. I like it when she does that; it reminds me of Mama when she was here – or maybe of one of Papa’s other friends, I don’t remember Mama that much anymore.
“Helen, dear. You are such a precious little girl. You are so sweet and smart and-“
Maria turned away from Helen and grew quiet. If she is crying she’ll stay longer, thought Helen, so she turned, sat up, and hugged her.
“I’ll see you,” said Maria.
Helen didn’t say anything, just hugged and smelled Maria’s vanilla smell that always made Helen think she had cookies for her. She never did, but she was nice and let me cry and I’ll miss her anyways - until the next one comes. It doesn’t help to remember them too long or get too close.

* * * * *

Helen entered the kitchen of her new house and, while she knew her father was sitting at the table with some woman, all she noticed was the dog lying on the floor. “What’s his name?”
“Do you like him?” Papa asked.
“His name is Duke,” said the woman. “And he’s yours.”
Helen looked up at the woman and realized she knew her. Helen then noticed the plate of cookies on the table – Oreos, but still – there sat Maria.
“You came back,” said Helen.
Maria and Hector laughed and looked at each other. Then they look at Helen.
“Come, sit on my lap,” said Hector.
Helen didn’t move. Hector scooted off the chair and sat on the floor in front of Helen, holding his hands out. Helen pulled her legs out from under her, and sat cross-legged, keeping one arm around Duke.
“Maria and I have been seeing each other. You remember, right? She just couldn’t come to our house until now because she didn’t have a car. It was her idea to give you Duke.”
“I’d like you to take care of him when I can’t be here, is that okay?” said Maria.
But if she and Papa stop being friends, thought Helen, then I won’t get to see Duke anymore?
“Don’t worry, Helen,” said Hector. “I’ll help you take care of him.”
They don’t understand.

* * * * *

“Listen to me!” shouted Sarah, pounding her rock of a gavel on the rock of a podium. “Our spray is getting in our way. We have to learn to control it. We have to learn to use our other assets to our advantage and stop spraying at the first sign of perceived danger, real or not.”
“How can you say such a thing?” said old Stan, whose white body gave him the impression of being old. “Skunks have survived for generations because of our spray.”
“You’re right, Stan,” said Sigmund. “In the wild, our spray has served us well. But young Sarah also has a very valid point. We are no longer in the wild, but rather live amongst humans. In this changing environment, surely we too must change.”
Stan settled back down onto his seat and let Sarah continue.
“Thank you, Sigmund. Stan, I understand how you feel, but after losing both of my brothers last week, I have had to think about what went wrong. They were young, healthy skunks in their prime. And yet, in their brashness, they entered a cage, thinking they could get the food and get out if they worked together. Instead, the trapdoor shut them both in. I approached them, and they warned me to stay out of sight, or I’d be captured too. I cried, but I reluctantly left. When I went back the next day, they were gone. But the cage sat there, with a fresh snack inside.
“These humans don’t like us,” continued Sarah. “And yet they surround us. We linger where they live because they provide us with a bounty of food unavailable anywhere else.”
“So what are you suggesting we do?” said Stan.
“These humans hate our spray.” Sarah answered. “When they walk by us, they avoid us. Every summer, our tribes suffer many losses in the cages that make us disappear forever.”
“I hear they take us to a secret location and take our hides to make clothing,” someone shouted.
“I’ve heard we’re cooked and sold to restaurants,” shouted another.
“Nonsense,” Sigmund said. “They’ll simply kill us. We are of no use to them.”
“And that,” said Sarah, “is exactly what we have to change.”

* * * * *

Helen looked out the back screen door at Duke, the twilight sky making his black body difficult to see. Suddenly, she saw a flash of white scurry into the bushes in the back of the yard.
“Duke, no! Come, Duke. Inside. C’mon. Sit. Stay!” Helen yelled as many commands as popped into her head, but knew it was too late. Duke, though generally well behaved, got way too excited when he saw squirrels, rabbits, and – evidently – skunks. She grabbed the leash from the hook next to the door and ran outside, ready to tie him to the banister so she could spend another evening – the third one this week – deskunking Duke. As he trotted to her, excited because he thought the leash meant he was getting a walk, she braced herself for the strong chemically noxious odor.
But no. He didn’t smell. Helen attached the leash, telling herself the odor would set in shortly, and stood waiting for the smell. But it didn’t come.
“Hmmm. Maybe there wasn’t a skunk after all,” she said aloud. “Lucky for you, Duke.”
Just then, out of the bushes waddled a small skunk. Helen tightened her grip on Duke’s leash, but otherwise stood still, mesmerized at how harmless this fuzzy little creature appeared. As it got closer, Helen watched, shifting her weight from foot to foot, ready to … well, she wasn’t sure what she was ready to do.
When the skunk was ten feet in front of her, it stopped. It looked at Duke, then at Helen. It slowly lifted its tail, and then dropped it.
It’s trying to tell me something, thought Helen, but what? “What is it, skunk? What do you want to tell me?” Great, she thought, I’m talking to a skunk.
Looking at Helen, the skunk slowly walked toward Duke. It then turned its head and faced Duke as Duke sniffed it and moved toward its hind side to sniff. Helen yanked on Duke’s leash. The skunk raised its tail, and then lowered it to the ground.
“You’re not going to spray him, are you?” said Helen, unable to believe what was happening. “Amazing.”
Seemingly in response, the skunk looked Helen in the eyes.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Helen took Duke inside, then opened the refrigerator door. What do skunks eat? She wondered. Well, garbage. Maybe an apple. She closed the refrigerator door and went to the fruit bowl. She found the oldest apple and headed back outside. She was simultaneously surprised and unfazed at seeing the skunk still standing where she had left it. She walked down the few steps, all the while meeting the skunk’s gaze. She walked slowly toward the skunk, then set the apple on the ground a few feet away from the skunk, and stepped back. She turned her head at the sound of a bark, and saw Duke standing on the opposite side of the screen door, demanding to be let out. She looked down as she felt something soft against her ankles, and saw the skunk sidle up against her as she had seen cats do in cartoons. It then walked to the apple and started to eat it.
Helen stood staring at the skunk, noting its two thin zigzag stripes, until Duke’s whimpering reminded her that he hadn’t done his business. She walked up the steps to let him out. Duke stopped by the skunk momentarily, Helen watching in fear, but the skunk kept eating the apple and Duke trotted away to his corner of the yard to relieve himself. Duke returned, wagging his tail as he passed the skunk, not stopping to sniff it again, and Helen smiled.
“Bye, skunk.” she said as she and Duke went back inside. “Have a nice night.”

* * * * *


“I’m telling you, it works,” Sarah shouted. She pounded the stone gavel to silent the crowds. “Last week, I made a friend. Two. A human and a dog.”
“Come now, Sarah,” yelled old Stan, his white fur mangled from a recent run-in with a neighborhood cat. “Do you really expect us to believe that you befriended a human and a dog? How naïve do you think we are?”
“They trust me. The dog sniffs me and I don’t spray him, so the human gives me food. See how easy it can be? All we have to do is not react so quickly and we get food,” said Sarah, lowering her voice gradually as the crowd started listening. “Humans are wasteful. We all know that. That’s why we live in their neighborhoods instead of in the wild. They don’t want to eat us, like other creatures do. They just hate the smell of our spray.”
“Yeah, but that’s the point of our spray. We’re not going to scare anyone off if our spray smells like roses,” yelled someone from the crowd.
“No,” responded Sarah. “Our noxious spray is meant to stun and drive away predators. Humans don’t want to kill us.”
“So what do we do?” asked Simon, a young skunk with white circles around his eyes.
“Show humans that we won’t spray them or their pets. Picture it. If we stop spraying them, they’ll stop sealing their garbage so tightly and we’ll have better access to food. Eventually, as they get to know us, they’ll give us food on their own. Just like my human does and countless humans do for cats and dogs.”

* * * * *

“Papa, what do you think of skunks?” said Helen. They sat at the kitchen table drinking lemonade under the ceiling fan in the overwhelming July heat. “SKUNK, double word, sixteen points.”
Hector sat silently for two minutes before setting his tiles on the Scrabble board. “Stinky. Eight points.”
“I think they’re pretty cute,” said Helen. “In fact, we kind of have a pet skunk. Nice, double word, twelve points.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This skunk hangs out in our backyard and leaves Duke alone when I let him out. I give the skunk our leftovers and in return it doesn’t spray him.”
“I know you’ve been distant from Maria. This isn’t just an attempt to hurt her dog?”
“This has nothing to do with Maria. And I like Duke.”
“Well, your story is quite imaginative, Helen. But skunks can’t be trusted,” he said.
“And I tell you this one can be,” said Helen. “You’ll see when I let him out.”
“Fine. But I’ll watch from inside. If I’m going to win this argument, I don’t want to ruin it by having to bathe in tomato juice,” said Hector, smiling at Helen, who smiled back. Hector laid three tiles on the Scrabble board. “Vile, double word, fourteen points.”
After a while, Duke walked to the back door and whimpered, his tail wagging. Helen got up to let him out and saw the skunk, her skunk, standing there. She let Duke out and beckoned her father to come to the door. The two watched as Duke, now standing at the bottom of the stairs, sniffed the skunk, wagged his tail, then trotted off to pee.
“See, she didn’t spray Duke,” said Helen.
Hector said nothing.
When Duke returned, he stopped, facing the skunk. Wagging his tail, he dropped his chest and splayed his front paws in his playful pose. The skunk turned and ran in a circle, well, as fast as a waddling skunk can really run, which is about as fast as a speed-walker. Duke chased after it, jumping over it when he approached. Helen and her father watched in silence.
“So you can trust this skunk? That’s great. But then, why not Maria?” said Hector before heading to the den.
I don’t care what he says, thought Helen. I trust this skunk. And at least the skunk’s not trying to take Duke’s place. Duke trotted inside, and Helen glanced at the skunk, who stared back at Helen. Helen went to get a slice of bread for the skunk, and when she returned to the backdoor, she found the skunk had climbed the steps and was on the opposite side of the door.
“Well, what do we have here?” said Helen, as she opened the screen door to let the skunk in, pretty sure her father would not approve but feeling suddenly defiant.

* * * * *

What a wonderful few weeks, thought Sarah. In the hottest part of the summer, while the other skunks are struggling to keep cool and find food while avoiding capture, I get to relax and enjoy regular meals. All just for not spraying anyone. I can come and go as I please, though now that my meals are provided I no longer need to scavenge for food.
Sarah walked outside in the dark night, heading for the weekly skunk community forum. She couldn’t wait to tell everyone that they didn’t have to struggle.
As she reached the ravine, however, she saw old Stan standing at the podium, standing next to two skunks she had never seen before.
“Hunker down, wouldya! These gentleskunks here are from the next town over and have some very important news,” Stan said, stepping aside to let the bulky stranger take the podium.
“Hello, fellow skunks. My name is Stuart. And I have here…” He raised his right front paw, which held a sheet of paper, “…proof that humans are waging a war against us. It says here ‘How to keep our neighborhoods skunk-free.’ It goes into detail about setting traps to capture us, and tells us that when captured, Animal Control will take us to a secret location and destroy us.”
The crowd started talking, the din growing louder, forcing Stuart to pound the gavel.
“What we need is a plan,” shouted Stuart. “And that is where my esteemed colleague comes in. Please welcome Suzanne.”
As the small framed cream and white skunk stepped up to the podium, whistles announced the crowd’s approval. Sarah frowned as she recalled the boo’s that accompanied her last speech.
Suzanne started to speak, barely louder than a whisper, and the crowd strained to catch her every word. “We must take the offensive. We cannot sit back and watch as each of our family members and closest friends is taken from us. We need to attack.” She paused, letting the words sink in.
Sarah watched in amazement. Instead of inciting a mob mentality that would surely fade by morning, Suzanne is drawing them in by whispering. She knew she had to stop Suzanne from continuing or she would never be able to convince everyone that violence would not work.
“No,” Sarah said, startling the crowd. All heads turned and followed as she made her way to the stage.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” whispered Suzanne snidely.
“We cannot attack humans. They are more powerful and would destroy us all. We would be forced to return to the wild and scavenge for food while fighting to stay alive. At least now we are surrounded by food. Humans waste a lot. Plenty for us to live on. Do you really want to return to the old ways?” Sarah quickly realized that by asking a question she had passed on control, and that she was not going to regain it.
“Of course you don’t want to return to the old ways. You’re happy being some human’s pet,” shouted Stan. The crowd shouted in agreement.
“I see,” said Suzanne, her soft voice instantly quieting the crowd. “Well, I can see why you would not want humans destroyed. But you raise an interesting point. You say we can befriend humans, do you?”
Sarah didn’t trust Suzanne, but took the opportunity to speak. “Yes. They love to nurture, and as long as they are not harmed, they will choose any animal as their pet.”
“So you say it is possible to become a pet, and this will let you eat regularly?”
“Yes, and given a place to sleep, away from the harsh elements.”
“Intriguing,” whispered Suzanne. “We must take this approach. My fellow skunks, we must endear ourselves to these humans. Therein lies our salvation. Thank you, Miss. Thank you for saving us.”
Sarah walked off stage and headed back home, leaving Suzanne whispering to a still enthralled crowd. She understands, thought Sarah. This Suzanne is no dummy. The others listen to her.

* * * * *

As she walked back to her new house, Sarah caught sight of her human and dog taking a late walk in the finally cool Cleveland night. She rushed to join them and chirped. They turned and saw her, then stopped to let her catch up.
The three walked together for several yards, silent except for the dog’s panting. Suddenly, the dog stopped, his tail wagging. Sarah looked up and saw two shapes on the sidewalk, immediately in front of the dog. She moved closer, to the dog’s side, and recognized Sam and Sly, old Stan’s sons. They showed their teeth and were growling at the dog, who, thanks to Sarah, didn’t know to avoid them. Then again, she realized, he didn’t exactly run away from me.
They stepped forward. Sarah stepped forward and to the side, in front of the dog.
“Get out of our way, pet girl!” snarled Sly.
“Leave him alone,” Sarah spoke slowly, baring her teeth afterwards to let them know she meant business.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Sarah. The war is starting,” said Sam. “You don’t want to be on the wrong side.”
“What are you talking about? Suzanne told us to get along with humans,” said Sarah.
“You are such a fool,” laughed Sly. “She got rid of you. Sure we could fool humans into trusting us, but that would take too long. We’re taking control now.”
“How do you plan to do that?” asked Sarah, taking tiny steps backwards, hoping the human and dog would back up. But she could still hear the dog panting behind her.
“By keeping humans and dogs off the street at dusk and dawn. If we see them, we’ll spray them. If they leave food for us, we’ll leave them alone. They’re smart; they’ll figure it out,” explained Sly. “Now step aside and watch the onslaught begin.” Sly raised his tail and started to turn around.
Sam looked Sarah in the eyes. “Listen to him, Sarah. Step aside and return with us.”
Sarah took a step sideways, dropping her head. She heard Sly chirp the first of three times, as he liked to do before spraying, and she quickly turned and growled at the dog and human. They stumbled backwards. Sarah raised her tail and sprayed.

* * * * *

“I can’t find her anywhere. She sprayed those other skunks, we stared at each other for a few seconds, and then she ran off,” said Helen. “Those other skunks were still around, so Duke and I rushed off.”
“There was actually an article in today’s paper saying there’s been a lot of skunk sightings and sprayings,” said Hector, opening up a can of Coke and sitting down on the sofa.
“I’ve had to walk Duke right after school when it’s still light out to avoid skunks, I’ve been so nervous. The first couple days, I kept seeing skunks out, but not mine. I swear they were headed toward me.”
“I saw about five skunks on my way over here. Something strange is going on,” said Maria.
“This is ridiculous. I’ve gotten sprayed three times in the past week. It’s like they’re waiting for me,” said Hector.
“Animal control doesn’t have enough cages to meet all the demand,” said Maria. “The guy said we should spray our lawn with a mixture of – let me look this up – eight ounces castor oil, eight ounces liquid dish soap, and one gallon of water. That should keep the skunks off our yard until Animal Control can make it out here. They’ve never been this busy.”
“What if we left food out?” asked Helen.
“Absolutely not!” said Hector. “They’d keep coming back.”
“But they wouldn’t spray us,” said Helen.
Helen stopped listening, thinking instead of how she hadn’t seen her skunk all week and was worried. She was afraid the skunk had been run over, captured, or killed. Earlier in the summer, she never imagined that she could actually care about a skunk. She thought her father would have come around, but he didn’t.
If they saw my skunk, she thought, they’d learn to like her. She frowned. But she’s gone and they’ll never get the chance.

* * * * *

Later that night, Helen woke up and quietly went down to the kitchen for a snack. She heard voices in the den.
“You have to tell her. It’s not fair to her,” said Maria.
Are they talking about me, thought Helen.
“Stay out of this, Maria. It is none of your concern.”
“Hector, the child lost her mother. And she thinks her mother left her. How is that good for her?”
“I can take care of my daughter.”
What? I lost Mama? She told me to stay.
“And you told her that her mother left her at a dance? You let her believe that her mother abandoned her. How can you let her believe that?” Maria pounded her hand.
The sound made Helen jump.
“Shush, woman,” said Papa. And then he spoke so quietly that Helen couldn’t hear.
“Look. You want me to marry you and become close to Helen, but how can she trust me? How can she trust anyone if nobody tells her the truth about her mother? If she’s lost faith in her mother, and her father keeps lying to her, how can she trust me? How can she trust anyone? You have to tell her that her mother is dead so she can grieve.”
What? Mama is dead? No. No. No. She went to a dance. We saw her win. And she won so she had to go to another contest to win more. That’s where she is. Papa told me. She’s not dead. Why would Maria say something like that?
“She’s too young, Maria. A girl that young cannot handle knowing that her mother has died. I know what I’m doing.”
Mama died, thought Helen. Maria didn’t make it up. He doesn’t want me to know. Why doesn’t he want me to know?
“I disagree. I have known that girl all her life, and you are doing her a great disservice. But she is your daughter, so I won’t say anything. But, I cannot marry you until she knows.”
Helen stepped into the doorway and stood looking at them. They didn’t see her.
“Papa,” she said.
They turned to face Helen. Maria rushed next to Helen and put her arm around her. Helen kept looking at Hector, who was staring at Maria.
“You tell her or I will,” said Maria.
“Papa,” said Helen. “What happened to Mama?”
Maria’s hands tightened. Helen kept staring at her father, who turned to look at her. She walked toward Hector, and Maria let go. He picked Helen up and sat her on his lap. Maria turned and walked out of the den.
Papa sighed.
“Why is Maria saying I lost Mama? You told me she went dancing.”
“Helen, I am sorry. You were so young; I didn’t want to upset you. Your mother was a wonderful dancer. And when she danced, all eyes were on her. She had this energy about her, and her smile … ah, her smile.” Hector stopped talking and stared blankly.
“She was marvelous and won all sorts of dance competitions. We had gone to watch her compete. I picked you up from preschool and we drove downtown. Your mother had been there since morning helping out. She was also so helpful that way. We got there and there she was, greeting people at the doorway.
“She danced with you backstage until her name was called. And then, she asked her best friend, Maria, to take you to the audience, where I was waiting, holding our seats. You mother was dazzling. There were eight of them, but your mother stood out. And she was having so much fun. At the end, everyone stood up and cheered. You were jumping up and down, clapping, shouting ‘Yay Mama!’”
Helen remembered seeing her mother on stage holding her trophy. Helen then remembered the phone call from Mama. She told Helen to go to bed and that she’d see her the next morning. She told her she loved her and that she was so happy seeing Helen in the audience and dancing with her backstage.
Hector had taken her to bed that night. He tried to sing her the lullaby that Mama always sang for her, and Helen giggled remembering his funny voice and how he couldn’t remember the words. She turned and looked up at her father and saw tears in his eyes. She frowned and looked down at his hands wrapped around her own.
“On her way home, she was in an accident. A car sped right past a stop sign, and ran right into your mother’s car.”
Helen looked up at her father’s face.
“She--?” she said.
Her father hugged her tightly and shook, sobbing.
“Papa,” she said. “Papa.”
Maria walked into the den and picked up Helen. Helen did not resist, but rather rested her head on Maria’s shoulder. They stood in front of Helen’s father for a minute, but nobody spoke. Helen listened as Maria’s breathing slowed down gradually, starting out through her nose and eventually growing so quiet that Helen could only feel it but not hear it.
“Hector,” said Maria, “Go on.”
Through the corner of her eye, Helen could see her father’s head lift up.
“I told her,” he said.
“She needs to hear it. From you. You’re almost there. Just let it out,” said Maria.
Maria knelt down until Helen’s feet touched the floor. Helen stood, and then felt her body being turned to face her father. Helen felt Maria’s embrace and was grateful, suddenly feeling too weak to support herself. Her father put his hands on her cheeks and looked in her eyes.
“Helen, your mother did not leave you. She died that night.”
Maria knelt behind Helen, keeping her hands on Helen’s arms. Hector turned to the desk and sobbed, hiding his face in his arms. When Helen started to lean toward her father, Maria stood, whispered “come”, and then led Helen out of the room.
In the family room, Maria stopped and stood until Helen sat down. Then she sat down next to Helen. Helen sat silently for a few minutes.
Papa is crying, she thought. I never saw him cry before. And we left him alone. Papa needs me. Why did Maria make me leave him alone? And why is she here now? Why does she have to be here? I should be with my Papa and she shouldn’t be here at all. Mama should be here.
And then Helen felt the heat in her eyes dissipate as the tears rushed over them. Maria wrapped her arms around Helen, who hugged back, holding on tightly to stop the giant balloon of hurt expanding inside her. She pictured this balloon, red and black, and felt it press on her chest and at the bottom of her throat.
Helen cried and cried, missing her mother, missing knowing and being able to say goodbye. She felt sad, devastated, but also angry. Angry at her mother for being gone when she said she’d come back, angry at her father for not telling her, angry at herself for believing her mother would abandon her on purpose.
But, she realized, she was not angry with Maria. She wanted to be. She had been angry with Maria since her mother had disappeared, because Maria was here and her mother was not. But Maria, Mama’s best friend, had been a friend to Papa, comforting him and taking care of me because Mama could not.

* * * * *

Sarah awoke with a start. She was so hungry and missed her family. She looked out from under the hosta leaves, and realized that she now considered the human and dog as her family.
The weekly forum was due to start soon, and she had to defend her actions to the large community of angry skunks. She had remained hidden as much as possible over the past week and had eaten little. She didn’t want to risk getting her family sprayed – she knew she would have been followed – so she had stayed far from home. She hoped everything would settle down after this week’s forum, when she would have to explain how she could spray another skunk.
The coast clear, she came out from under the hosta and stood at the head of the trail leading to the ravine. She headed down the trail and heard the chattering of the other skunks. Wow, big turnout, she thought, and was surprised to see half as many skunks as the previous week. Suzanne was speaking.
“We’ve suffered many casualties, but we are making progress. Already people are staying inside more, giving us free reign of the streets.”
Sarah listened to Suzanne for a few more minutes, hiding behind the large oak tree that marked the edge of the meeting space. Although she had spent the past week anticipating this moment, now that it had arrived, she didn’t know what to do. She wanted to explain herself, which meant that she would have to make her way to the podium. But that meant that all these skunks would stand between her and escape, should it come to that.
She couldn’t do it. She would have to take this opportunity to make it back to her human’s house. She turned around and silently retraced her path up the trail. After what she had done, there was no way the skunk community would ever accept her again. She would be sent away anyhow; she may as well leave voluntarily.
As she reached the fence at the trailhead, she heard human voices. She looked up and saw that just a few feet ahead of her, standing in a circle, was a large group of humans. One was pointing in her direction. Bottles lay on the ground around them and their voices were loud. Several people carried cages, just like the one that took her brothers, and other people carried guns. Little by little, more people joined the crowd.
Sarah realized that they were coming after the skunks. How foolish, she thought. The skunks grew careless and let the humans see them enter. She turned around and rushed down the trail. What were they thinking taking on humans? Of course it would come to no good. How are we, with a noxious spray and the ability to squeeze through small spaces, going to defeat people that can build cages and guns? What can we do now? How can we survive?
“Run! Everybody run!” Sarah shouted as she reached the forum.
Of course, nobody moved. Recognizing her voice, the skunks chose to ignore her words and do the opposite. She reached the podium and, pushing Suzanne aside, she paused just long enough to catch her breath.
“There’s a crowd of humans at the trailhead. They saw a lot of you enter and they’re on their way with cages and probably guns, and they’re going to destroy us. We need to run and hide or we’re all dead.” Sarah stopped talking when she saw Stan rise and start to approach her. She looked him straight in the eyes as he walked up to the podium and stopped in front of her. He turned to face the crowd, and then rose up on his hind paws, leaning on the podium.
“Sarah, you go ahead and flee. Anyone else who thinks we can’t face these humans, feel free to run. I for one plan to stay and fight,” said Stan.
Sarah watched as the skunks looked from side to side, trying to figure out what to do. “Well, I’m leaving. I know you all must hate me for what I did last week, but that doesn’t concern me right now. I came here to save your lives. What you do now is up to you. Goodbye, Stan.”
Sarah rushed off the stage and took the western path, since she knew humans guarded the southern path. As she reached the western trailhead, she saw no humans – though she heard many voices – and quickly darted across the street. She ran as fast as she could from bush to bush and made her way back home.

* * * * *

“You know,” said Maria, “when I was a child, I used to have a pet skunk.”
Helen looked up and saw Maria standing in front of her, holding the skunk in her arms. Helen felt her face grow warm. Maria sat down next to Helen and stroked the skunk gently. Helen could swear she heard the skunk mew.
“I’m worried about her, Maria. She’s not acting normal.” Helen pulled two cans of Coke out of the fridge.
“Helen, she’s a wild skunk living as your pet. She sleeps with the dog. And NOW you find her behavior unusual,” said Hector.
Maria laughed, pulling the bag of popcorn out of the microwave.
The three stepped into the family room, sat down and turned on the television. As they settled into their seats, the skunk wandered in and stopped in front of Hector. It rubbed up against his legs, and kept pacing back and forth. Hector tapped Maria’s leg with the back of his hand and she looked over.
“Go ahead, pick her up,” said Helen.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” said Hector.
“That’s what she does when she wants to be picked up.” Helen reached down to pick up the skunk but it pulled away.
“But why me? She’s never noticed me before,” Hector leaned down and picked up the skunk. He held it in midair and looked at it.
“Put it on your lap,” said Maria. “You were just like that when Helen was born. It’s exactly the same, except that the skunk doesn’t need a diaper. Besides, I told you she was acting strangely.”
Hector picked up his legs and rested them on the coffee table, and the skunk settled into his lap. Hector pressed play, and Helen and Maria laughed as they saw that he had rented a Pepe Le Pew video.
“So I read that Animal Control found a den with around fifty skunks and destroyed them all. It was out by that ravine where you said those skunks almost sprayed Duke,” said Maria.
“So I guess it’s over. I guess we’re safe from the evil society of skunks,” said Helen, smiling at Maria.
“Maybe that’s why she’s acting so strangely. You said she came back last night around ten? That’s right around when all this happened,” said Hector. “Maybe she’s suddenly noticing me because she can’t go back to the skunk world and is stuck here now.”
“Maybe,” said Helen, moving to sit next to Maria. “And by the way, does the skunk get to be in the wedding?”

* * * * *

“Sigmund! You’re okay!” said Sarah one evening a few weeks later as she finally ventured out of the house.
“Sarah, I needed to thank you – and make sure you were all right,” said Sigmund.
“Whatever happened to Suzanne?” she asked.
“Well, for all her bold talk, she was the first to run. Unfortunately, she ran right into the humans. She was among the first casualties. After that, everyone scattered. But there were so many of them. Those that survived didn’t see the cages until they had run into them.”
“But you?”
“There are about a dozen of us who heeded your words and followed you out. We had also staked out the trails ahead of time to prepare good hiding places. We stayed hidden for as long as we could stand it, and when we came out, we wandered around and witnessed the carnage. Old Stan lay by the podium. Bodies were scattered everywhere. It was overwhelmingly sad. But as those of us that survived gathered, we agreed to try your method. We vowed never to spray again, and that if we did get to be somebody’s pet, we wouldn’t oppose getting operated on to give our families piece of mind. We’re working on spreading the word about our stink-free philosophy to other communities so that they don’t have to face the horrors we did.”
Sarah smiled as she walked around the block with her friend. She was sad to hear that so many of her friends and relatives had perished during the human’s attack, but was relieved that some good had come out of the situation. She envisioned a day when she and Sigmund could walk along the sidewalk or at least the middle of the lawn, instead of under the bushes under cover of darkness. She knew that although the humans were now relaxed in their belief that all skunks had been eliminated, they wouldn’t hesitate to correct their error if a skunk were found. It was still too soon to wish for a free society that welcomed skunks just as it welcomed dogs and cats. But for now, she was happy to have a family.
Sarah said goodbye to Sigmund and waddled over to walk the rest of her way home with her human and dog. She smiled as the dog’s nose touched hers and his tail wagged. She was pleasantly surprised to find three pairs of human legs as she made her way to the sidewalk.