Skunked! Read Online Free Page B

snuffle and nose around for a while and then tucked them back in their cage. We dumped a bit of loose hay over the cage to disguise it, just in case any of the other brothers came by.
    *   *   *
    The kits seemed happy in the loft. Travis brushed their fur and gave them baths and brought them little toys that they tossed about just like regular kittens. He sneaked them out for walks in the woods at dawn and at dusk, and he carried them around in the bottom of his satchel where they curled up happily enough in two black-and-white balls.
    Stinky and Winky never sprayed him. They never even stamped their feet in warning. They became such beloved pets that I think Travis lost sight of the fact that his furry friends were, in fact, skunks.
    I joined him in the loft every few days, still trying to convince him to let them go just as soon as they reached a certain size.
    But then came the fateful morning when Winky would not play with his toys, and worse, he would not eat.

8
    Travis looked worried at breakfast. When I asked him if there was anything wrong, he whispered, “No, I’m fine.”
    But I knew him better than anyone, and I could tell he was not fine. If he’d told me his plan, there’s no doubt I would have talked—or maybe yelled—some sense into him. But I didn’t know about it until it was too late.
    I set off to school with Travis and two of my other brothers, Sul Ross and Lamar. Travis had his book satchel over his shoulder but, strangely, he was carrying his books under his arm. I was about to ask him about this when I heard someone calling my name. Up ahead, my friend Lula Gates waited for me, waving and calling.
    â€œHi, Lula!” I waved. I ran ahead to meet her, and we chatted all the way to school. I didn’t give Travis another thought. At least, not right at that second.
    We made it to school just in time to line up while Miss Harbottle rang the handbell. We trooped in, the girls in one line and the boys in the other. Our school had only one classroom, so the little ones sat up front and practiced their ABCs; the older children sat in the middle and recited their times tables; the oldest children sat in the back and studied world geography with the atlas and the globe.
    Lula and I shared a desk right behind Travis, who, for some reason, looked extra fidgety. You’d have thought the boy had ants in his pants the way he kept squirming in his seat and fiddling around with the satchel at his feet.
    At recess we all ran outside. Usually Travis hung around and bothered me and Lula while we played hopscotch, but this time he took his satchel to the far side of the playground. Now I knew for sure something was wrong with him, and I’d have to tell Mother. Which meant she’d either dose him with a teaspoon of cod-liver oil, the most awful substance in the entire world, or haul him off to see Dr. Walker, with his cold hands and even colder instruments. Both prospects were enough to make you shudder.
    Miss Harbottle rang the bell to signal the end of recess, and we all went back to our desks.
    â€œBoys and girls,” she said, “today we will all have a lesson in Texas history. You little ones, pay attention now. Did you know that before Texas became part of the United States, it was actually a part of Mexico? That’s right, part of another country. And the brave Texians, as they were called, your very own ancestors, fought a war against Mexico to gain their independence.”
    Normally such a discussion would have deeply interested Travis, but now he was busy trying to slide a box of raisins out of his desk without making any noise.
    Miss Harbottle said, “The Texians suffered terrible defeats at the Alamo and at Goliad.”
    She pulled down the map of the United States and tapped it with her pointer to show us the sites of the famous battles. The Alamo was only fifty miles from our house. But because it was a full day’s journey on