Mr. and Mrs. Bunny—Detectives Extraordinaire! (12 page)

“He's got the only copy of the coded card with him,” said Mr. Bunny.

“Where could The Marmot have gone? Think, Mr. Bunny,” urged Mrs. Bunny.

“Let's go outside and see if we can't find him,” said Madeline.

“He
did
have that Irish coffee,” said Mrs. Bunny. “Maybe it went to his head and he left by the window accidentally.”

“No one leaves by a window accidentally,” said Mr. Bunny.

“You're right. There are more sinister forces at work,” said Mrs. Bunny.

“Sinister, my elbow,” said Mr. Bunny. “Marmot forces at work is more like it.”

The three rushed out to the parking lot and did a complete circuit of the restaurant, but there was no sign of The Marmot.

“Not only that, but he made off with my fedora,” said Mr. Bunny. “Now I shall have to detect bareheaded.”

“Maybe he just forgot about us and went home,” said Madeline. “Let's check there first.”

They ran back to the parking lot, but now they realized that the Smart car was gone too.

“SWELL! That tears it! I left the keys and my driving shoes in the car and now he's stolen it!” said Mr. Bunny.

“What shall we do?” asked Madeline, sitting down with a thump, followed by the two thumps of Mr. and Mrs. Bunny.

They sat on the curb for sixteen minutes in a state of complete despair.

“Well, it will cost a fortune but I suppose we will have to call a taxi,” said Mr. Bunny finally.

“Rabbits have
taxis
?” said Madeline, leaping to her feet.

“I told you rabbits have everything,” said Mr. Bunny.

So Mr. Bunny went inside and phoned a taxi. He asked for one large enough to accommodate a really gigantic bottom.

The taxi driver arrived shortly and took them to The Marmot's hole. While the driver waited, the Bunnys ran over to the hole entrance and Madeline cased the grounds.

“I've found the car!” she called. “It's over here behind this rock pile.”

“You come out of there, you dirty thief!” yelled Mr. Bunny down the hole. “We know you stole our car.”

“I didn't steal nothing,” The Marmot called back. “Go away, I'm trying to sleep.”

“You come up or I'll come down and drag you up,” said Mr. Bunny. He was so mad his fur was standing on end.

A very sleepy-looking marmot dragged himself out of the hole.

“What did you think you were doing, stealing our car and running away like that?” asked Mr. Bunny.

“I wasn't stealing nothing,” said The Marmot. “I just should never have had that Irish coffee. It got me all confused.”

“Didn't I warn you that that would happen?” demanded Mr. Bunny, and went to pay the driver.

When he returned, it was to hear Madeline shout, “YOU DID WHAT?”

“Oh, honestly, I knew we never should have started up with marmots. It's always a mistake,” said Mrs. Bunny, hopping in circles and pulling at her fur.

“What? What did he do?” asked Mr. Bunny.

“He
lost
the file card,” said Madeline.

“HE
WHAT
?”

“Lose it? Did I lose it? That's the question,” said The Marmot.

“Do you have it now?” asked Mr. Bunny

“Noooo,” said The Marmot, frowning in perplexity.

“Then that's the answer, you idiot. Now think,
where
did you lose it?”

“That's another question. All these questions after Irish coffee. It's too much. My little marmot brain is bursting. Besides,
how can I possibly remember? It was so long ago,” said The Marmot. “Before my nap.”

“By George, I'll
shake
it out of that marmot brain of yours!” said Mr. Bunny, hopping up and down in place with such force Mrs. Bunny said she was afraid one more hop and he would propel himself right over the moon.

“Calm down, let's think rationally,” she said.

“RATIONALLY? THIS IS A MARMOT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT!” yelled Mr. Bunny.

“If there were just some way we could get him to remember!” said Mrs. Bunny.

“Oh!” said Madeline, clapping her hands. “I know! I can hypnotize him. KatyD taught me how. Would you let me do that, Mr. Marmot?”

“Please call me The,” said The Marmot affably.

“Uh, all right, The,” said Madeline. “Let's all sit here in the, uh, mud, and The, you just relax.” Madeline stopped. Her sentences were becoming more and more confusing. “Listen, can I call you something else? Don't you have a nickname?”

“My mother sometimes called me her Special Precious,” said The Marmot.

“I don't think I could do that,” said Madeline, shuddering.

“Look, just let her call you Mr. Marmot,” said Mr. Bunny.

“How about Poindexter?” said The Marmot.

“Why Poindexter?” asked Madeline.

“Please do not ask him questions. Please. We'll be here all night. When it comes to marmots, give orders,” said Mr. Bunny.

The Marmot had climbed up a tree and hung upside down by his hind legs, looking perplexed.

“All right, all right. Listen, can I just call you Marmot?” pleaded Madeline, looking up into his puzzled face.

“It doesn't have a very friendly ring.”

“All right!
Poindexter
,” said Madeline.

The Marmot just hung there.

“Poindexter?” Madeline gently prodded.

The Marmot didn't respond.

Mr. Bunny pinched him. “That's
you
!”

The Marmot fell down from the tree.

“OUCH! I forgot. Keep your paws to yourself, you vicious bunny.”

“This isn't going to work,” declared Mr. Bunny. “If you're going to concentrate a mind, you need to
begin
with one.”

“Let's just take a cleansing breath,” said Madeline. “Now, I want you to begin by thinking of someplace that you find relaxing or something you like to do that relaxes you.”

“I like to throw spitballs at robins,” said The Marmot.

“YOU LIKE TO
WHAT
?” cried Mr. Bunny in outrage.

“Robins and rabbits have always been allies,” Mrs. Bunny whispered to Madeline.

“It's okay, Mr. Bunny, we're not really going to throw spitballs. Only in our minds' eyes. There we are walking through a sunny meadow on a beautiful summer morning. Robins are everywhere. We throw spitballs at them. One spitball, two spitballs, three spitballs …”

Madeline tried to give her voice a drowsy soothing tone, and The Marmot's eyes began to close.

“But we don't fall asleep, we just relax. Now, as we're throwing spitballs we think to ourselves about the yummy lunch at The Olde Spaghetti Factory. Sit in that meadow and remember it. You have the coded file card in your hand.…”

“It's in my hand,” murmured The Marmot drowsily. “I put it down to reach for more garlic bread …”

“No, you don't. There is no more garlic bread. You ate it all,” said Madeline. “You pick up the file card again.”

“I ask Mr. Bunny to order more garlic bread.…”

“While you are waiting for it to come, you pick up the file card.”

“I pick up the file card.”

“You take it into the restroom.…”

“I take it into the restroom …,” repeated The Marmot.

“And you …”

“I put it on the sink and go into the toilet stall …,” The Marmot went on.

“The file card is on the sink!” cried Mr. Bunny, hopping up. “What are we waiting for?”

“No …,” said The Marmot in the same drowsy hypnotized voice.

“No …,” said Madeline, giving Mr. Bunny a look and resuming the soothing tone. “Because … what happens next?”

“What happens next is I get into the toilet stall and I think, That file card is too important to leave lying on a sink.”

There was a long silence while The Marmot's eyes began to droop.

“The file card is too important to leave on the sink so you …,” prompted Madeline.

“So I zip my pants back up,” said The Marmot.

“You zip your pants up.”

“And I go and get it.”

“You go and get it.”

“I bring it back with me into the stall …,” said The Marmot. “For safekeeping.”

“You bring it back with you into the stall. For safekeeping.”

“Then I start thinking about the garlic bread again.”

“You think about the garlic bread.”

“I love garlic bread.”

“You love garlic bread. Of course you do. We all love garlic bread,” droned Madeline soothingly.

“I wonder if I can get Mr. Bunny to go back and get me several orders to go.”

“You wonder if Mr. Bunny will buy you several orders to go.”

“Because it would be nice to have some to nibble at night while I watch television.”

“Because it would be nice to have some to nibble at night while you watch television.”

“But I don't know if Mr. Bunny will go for that.”

“But you don't know if Mr. Bunny will go for that.”

“He's kind of an ornery bunny, but he wants his file card decoded, so I bet I can get him to do anything.”

“Why, you!” said Mr. Bunny.

“Shhh,” said Madeline.

“I love garlic bread, so I decide to give it a try,” said The Marmot.

“You decide to give it a try.”

“I reach for the toilet paper, but the stall I'm in is out of it.”

“You reach for the toilet paper, but the stall doesn't have any.”

“But then I notice I have a file card in my hand.”

“You notice you have a file card in your hand.”

“I think, Paper is paper.”

“You think, Paper is paper.”

“Any old port in a storm.”

“Any old port in a storm?”

“So I use the file card.”

“You use the file card?”

“Then I flush it down the toilet.”

 THE DREADED ENVELOPE 

“T
HEN YOU FLUSH IT DOWN THE TOILET?” yelled Madeline.

“YOU IDIOT!” yelled Mr. Bunny.

“Uh-oh,” said The Marmot, coming suddenly awake and leaping up. In a flash, he was down his hole.

Madeline closed her eyes. She had entrusted the one thing that might lead her to her parents to a couple of rabbits and a marmot.
She
was the idiot. She picked her way across the scrap heap that passed for The Marmot's front yard and yelled down the hole, “Did you at least
decode
it first?”

“I may have, but I can't talk now. I'm traumatized. And
I'm especially not talking to that hostile rabbit until he's had a chance to calm down. I'm going into my bedroom and
locking
the door,” said The Marmot. “It's not my fault I forgot about the file card. You should never have brought me to a restaurant that serves garlic bread.”

They heard a door below slam with enough force to shake the ground under their feet.

“It's late,” said Mrs. Bunny softly. “Let's go home.”