Sunshine Picklelime (11 page)

“OK, kids,” BG said to members of the Gull Gang lined up on a large, flat rock that jutted out of the cliff’s edge.

“Here’s the deal.”

The “gang” of twelve gulls hunched together so BG
didn’t have to squawk over the blustery wind. BG and LG were battle-scarred heroes to them all, because of their tough reputation for tackling hawks. Below them, the choppy, white-crested waves chased one another relentlessly, churning sand and seaweed onto the beach.

“Just over there”—BG nodded inland—“in the next town of Primrose-on-Sea, there’s a pet store on the main street between a drugstore and a juice bar. Can’t miss it. It’s called Tweety Birds. Tweety’s owner needs to be taught a little lesson. For selling owls stolen from
our
’hood.”

The gulls began talking at once. “Selling stolen local owls?” “No way!” “Scumbag.” “We’ll give him Tweety, Big Gull.” “You mean folks actually buy owls?”

BG held up his wings for silence. “Kids, your full attention. All I want you to do is create a whole lotta noise outside Tweety’s windows to divert the owner’s attention. Leave the rest up to LG and me, OK?”

“Let’s roll, BG, LG! Let’s
go!”

“Hey hey hey, wait, kids! Not so fast. We need to swoop down just before closing time when Mr. Tweety’s tired. And guys? Hold your fire until then, if you can.”

“OK, BG,” said the Gull Gang’s leader, Loud Laugh,
caw-caw-cawing
up to his reputation. And so the dozen of them set off later in convoyover to Primrose-on-Sea, following closely behind BG and LG.

Red streaks of dusk were beginning to spread across the sky, tinging the bank of gray clouds that dimmed the late-afternoon light. Some stores had closed on Main Street. Shoppers dwindled as folks hurried home for dinner.

The timing was perfect.

To the joy of PJ, Ruth, and Joshua, who sat in the bay window of the Dandelion, innocently sipping fresh watermelon juice, the gulls swooped within inches of Tweety’s window next door.

And what a sight! They hovered in midflight, wings beating madly. Then they turned around on cue so their tail feathers faced the window.

Joshua rushed out with his camcorder.

SPLAT. Spppplaaaat, squirt, squelch, splat, splat, splat
echoed up and down Main Street. Seagull droppings hit the windows and ran down in thick, oozy streaks. No one could even see inside.

“YES!”
shouted PJ and Ruth, high-fiving in the Dandelion. Joshua gave them a quick thumbs-up. Then he crouched down and zoomed in.

Mr. Tweety ran out waving his arms. “Bug off, you
disgusting seagulls!
BUG OFF
, I say!” But the gulls swooped down over his head.
Splat splat splat
, all over him. Joshua jumped to the side to avoid being hit.

BG and LG immediately flew in the open door and pecked open a line of cages. There wasn’t time to go from cage to cage looking for the owls. So they cawed,
“Barn owls and anyone else from the ’hood. Go, just go. GO!”

Within seconds the store was filled with escaping birds of all colors, sizes, and shapes.

Splashed with bird droppings, Mr. Tweety struggled to get through the door, but the Gull Gang beat him back into the street. Joshua ducked as the birds came flapping out and tilted his tiny camcorder to video them from below. He swung around to focus on Mr. Tweety, who stood there, hands covering his face.

“Freedom, guys, FREEEEE-DOM!” Loud Laugh shouted. The sky blackened above Mr. Tweety’s head as more of the captive birds escaped. They hovered for a moment and then soared skyward. Way up, they split ranks, some going east, others going west.

Joshua chased them around the next corner, to catch the birds until they became dots in the sky. Then he ran to the next block to wait for Ruth and PJ by the bike rack.

PJ, Ruth, and other customers rolled about in the bay
window of the Dandelion, laughing hysterically. Crowds began to gather outside.

A police car pulled up at the curb. Officer Julie Dolan hung out and shouted, “Mr. Tweety, what’s going on?”

“I was attacked by a bunch of seagulls,” he yelled.

“Seagulls?” She glanced upward. The gray and pink sky was empty. She drove off, shaking her head. Mr. Tweety stumbled inside.

Ruth and PJ left the Dandelion and mingled in the crowds, ooohing and wowing for a few moments before racing off to join Joshua. The three took side streets to the nearest Internet cafe and uploaded Joshua’s clips onto the Web sites of the local media before cycling home at top speed.

the moonbow

“Pssst. Yo, PJ?” Big
Gull
tap-tap-tapped
on her window, peering inside in the dusk. But PJ wasn’t home.

“She’s probably in Ruth’s tree house,” Little Gull suggested. “C’mon, BG, let’s hop over there.”

Together they flew off toward the tree house. It was lit up like a beacon in the sprawling live oaks. They flapped and
caw-cawed
outside, knowing that no one minded weird birds flying in and out of the tree house at all hours. PJ noticed them and flung open the window. “Come in, guys!”

They hopped inside and swaggered about. PJ and the twins clapped and cheered loudly. The trio sat there on
the cushions with Oohoo and Squirt, watching local news clips on Ruth’s laptop and enjoying thick slices of carrot cake. Ruth turned the laptop around so the gulls could see themselves.

“WooooHOO,” said LG and BG. They high-fived their wing tips.

“Josh, great work. Look at Tweety covered with bird droppings!” yelled LG.

“And we
mean
bird droppings,” said BG. “Seagull, owl, parakeet, canary, you name it.”

“There go Monkey Face and Tyto and some other white-faced barn owls,” Oohoo said, watching the laptop with wide eyes. “Can you believe this?”

“Nothing to it,” said BG. He waved a wing dismissively. “Can’t remember how many owls flew out.”

“Plenty,” said LG.

Joshua switched to another news Web site. They watched the entire sequence again, including the final clip, when Officer Dolan pulled up in the police car.

Oohoo hopped off PJ’s shoulder onto the open window ledge and cocked her head to one side. She lifted one wing and said, “Shhh …”

Ruth turned down the sound.

They all listened carefully but couldn’t hear the
characteristic
ssssssss
of the barn owls outside. “Too early,” said Oohoo with a peek up at the darkening sky. She looked at PJ, at Ruth, at the gulls, and back to PJ.

“Go on, Oohoo,” said PJ. “Go and look for them if you like. We’ll be here for a while.”

“I’ll leave a window open for you, Oohoo. Come back anytime.” Ruth nodded reassuringly.

Still the owl hesitated.

Ruth went to the window and lifted Oohoo into the bowl of her hands. “Go. Make sure Monkey Face and Tyto are OK. Otherwise bring them back here with you.”

She opened her hands. Oohoo dipped, winged upward, and flew off with a loud, indignant hoot. The twins and PJ watched her disappear between the dark branches. Ruth glanced at PJ’s worried expression and said, “It’s OK, kiddo. Oohoo’ll be OK.”

“I guess so,” said PJ. “Thanks, Ruth. I don’t think I could just drop her like that!”

“Sometimes that’s the only thing to do,” said Ruth.

“Way to go!” shouted Big Gull. “PJ, where’s that special birdseed you promised? We’re two hungry gulls after all that hard work!”

PJ dug in her pockets for a couple of ziplock bags she had filled up in advance.

Squirt jumped up on the window ledge and joined the gulls. He took a pawful of seeds and nibbled them. The gulls pounced on the rest greedily.

Joshua reached for his tiny camcorder and swiveled toward the animals. “Great shot,” he said. “You don’t often see gulls and squirrels together like this!”

“Don’t get too close,” Ruth warned. “They don’t know you as well as they know us, Josh.” She yawned and stretched out on the cushions.

“They do now,” he chuckled, swiveling toward her. Then he lowered his camcorder and looked at his twin. “What’s up, Ruthie? Are you flaking out this early?”

“It’s been a long day,” Ruth said.

PJ checked the time. “Whoops. Sorry, Ruth,” she said. She stood up to go. “LG, BG, leave some seeds for Squirt. Let’s wander home together, see if we can spot other owls?”

The gulls looked up, then eyed the leftover carrot cake longingly.

“Uh-uh.” Ruth shook her head. “You know sugar isn’t good for you!”

“C’mon, gulls,” said PJ. She hugged Ruth and Josh and thanked everyone for the greatest bird rescue of all time.

“Hey, thank
you
, PJ,” said Josh. “It’s the first time my clips have hit TV!”

“Bye,” said Ruth. “Josh, can you toss the ladder down for PJ?”

It started to drizzle as PJ walked home with the gulls wheeling above. They could hear loud guffaws through neighbors’ open windows during the late-night TV news. They went past Mr. Splitzky’s house but it was dark and silent. After that, BG and LG waved goodbye and said it was time to hit the coast to thank the Gull Gang. PJ gave them the bag with the rest of the fancy birdseed. Off they flew, the bag dangling from LG’s webbed feet.

PJ hesitated at Mr. Splitzky’s front gate. Should she check the barn? But she didn’t want Blossom to start barking. Instead she placed two fingers in her mouth and gave a short, sharp whistle.

Nothing.

She whistled again.

Nothing.

She waited in the shadows. There was no sign of the owls, but something beautiful was happening. It wasn’t just the bright moon, the gentle smell of rain in the air, and the dark sky. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. A
moonbow!
Shimmering bands of colored light arched over the space where LG and BG had just flown toward the cliffs, above Mrs. Patel’s special waterfall! PJ stood on tiptoe and held her breath as though any noise or movement might disturb it.

In that moment, PJ felt the moonbow had appeared for her and the gulls, the night’s special way of thanking them for the safe release of so many birds. She stood so still, her legs began to ache. She opened and closed her eyes several times, creating moonbow snapshots in her mind. Then she walked home slowly, went to her room, and sketched the beautiful moonbow over and over while it was fresh in her memory.

Later, her mom tapped on her door. She came into the room and asked, “PJ, did you see the news? A whole bunch of gulls attacked Tweety’s. Everyone’s talking about it. I never liked the man. He used to run those cruel puppy mills before switching to birds.”

PJ closed her sketchbook. “Mom, it was like something out of a horror movie, wasn’t it?”

Mrs. Picklelime was quiet for a while, then she said, “PJ, I’m leaving tomorrow, and—”

“So soon?” PJ cut in.

“The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be home.”

PJ got up and hugged her mom for a long time.