A True Home Read online

“There are some extra pairs on the stargazing balcony,” said Mrs. Higgins. “Ms. Prickles will bring up the mushrooms. I’ll take care of the room service this morning. Hurry, scurry,” she said. “No mistakes. You know how particular the Sudsburys are.”

  “Don’t worry,” assured Tilly as the hedgehog bumbled down the stairs, “I’ll take care of everything.” She turned to Mona. “Come on. We need to get supplies. You heard Mrs. Higgins. No mistakes.”

  Although Tilly didn’t say it, Mona knew that meant her. So it was with a nervously twitching nose that she followed Tilly downstairs and back up again with supplies—bigger ones for Tilly and smaller ones for herself—to one of the fanciest suites in the hotel.

  The honeymoon suite was beautiful, with a curved-branch balcony and a bed in the shape of a heart. “It’s stuffed with the fluff of cattails,” explained Tilly. “It’s the best bed in the hotel. But don’t get any ideas about trying it out.” There was a hollowed-out burl for the tub and a desk twisted from twigs. In the corner of the room stood an enormous pinecone decorated with candles, and paintings of happy animal couples hung on the walls. There was even one of a pair of mice!

  Mona couldn’t help but stare at it. She had never spent much time around her own kind.

  “So how did you lose yours?” asked Tilly, gesturing to the picture.

  “Lose what?” replied Mona.

  “Your family…”

  “Oh,” said Mona. “It was a long time ago. I don’t really remember them. I wish I did. What about your family?”

  “That’s not your concern,” said Tilly briskly. “Sweeping the floor is. I’ll change the sheets.”

  Tilly handed Mona the smaller basket of cleaning supplies and a new apron, with pockets, which she put on. It was plainer than Tilly’s and still a little big, but at least it didn’t drag on the floor.

  Swish, swish, swish. She swept the wooden floor with a broom, even around the tub, being careful not to miss a single speck of dirt, and wondered why Tilly had gotten so mad. It was Tilly who had asked Mona about her family, after all. She hadn’t started the conversation.

  Tilly’s voice broke her thoughts. “What’s taking you so long? Ugh, let me do it. You go fetch the skunk cabbage from Mr. Higgins.”

  “Is that Mrs. Higgins’s husband?” Mona asked.

  “Of course,” said Tilly. “He’s the gardener. But no more questions. Just go down to the lobby and along the hallway, past the ballroom, to the back door. You can’t get lost.”

  Mona wasn’t so sure, but Tilly took the broom from her and said, “Hurry!”

  So Mona scampered down the staircase, through the lobby, and past the ballroom. As Tilly had said, the hallway continued, ending in a large door. The doorknob was way above her head. But then she saw a smaller door built into it. This must be for guests who are small like me, she thought, opening it.

  Outside, the sun was no longer peeking out from the trees but parading in the sky, though the air was still cool. Everything smelled fresh from the big rain. In front of her was a large courtyard surrounded on three sides by a wall of blackberry vines. Leaves were heaped in one corner, as though they had been recently piled there. The dirt ground had been swept, and there were several chairs made of twigs, for guests, surely.

  On the right side of the courtyard, in the vine-covered wall, was a gate that said FOR HOTEL STAFF ONLY. Mona headed there. She pushed it open and stepped into the garden.

  On one side a stream wound its way through banks of roots. It must be the continuation of the one that swept me to the hotel, Mona thought. With all the water, it was no wonder the tree had grown so large. And the water made for a healthy garden, too.

  There were wild strawberries and blueberries and ferns. A large huckleberry bush rose from the side of a log. Onions and artichokes were in one patch together, and in a shady bed were different types of delicious-looking mushrooms. There were clovers, dandelions, and herbs, too—chives and oregano, and one plant that overpowered all the rest with its fresh, sweet smell: peppermint.

  She breathed in deeply. “How nice,” she sighed.

  A portly hedgehog with a pair of tooth-sharp shears poked his head out from behind the plant. “Isn’t it, though?”

  Mona jumped back, surprised. “Oh!”

  “Don’t worry,” said the hedgehog. “I’m Mr. Higgins, the gardener. And you…Wait, I remember you from this morning. You’re the new maid.”

  Mona nodded.

  “And partial to peppermint. Oh, no need to look upset. I love the plant myself, but some guests have complained that the smell overpowers the courtyard, so I need to trim it back. Here, why don’t you take some?” He held out a sprig.

  Mona smiled and put it in one of her apron pockets.

  “You can have more, if you’d like,” he said.

  “Thank you. Maybe later,” said Mona. “Right now I need a flower from a skunk cabbage.”

  “For the Sudsburys, I assume?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I grow it especially for them. They like a flower in their room because it reminds them of home.” Mr. Higgins led the way down to a swampy area near the stream.

  “Stay back,” he told her. “You don’t want to get your paws muddy….There it is,” he said, pointing to a leafy plant that towered above their heads. “The skunk cabbage.” In the center of the plant grew a few stalks. Only one, a small one, had a yellow flower on the end shaped like the flame of a candle. It was about as tall as Mona.

  “Skunk cabbage doesn’t usually grow in the fall, but I always cultivate one for now, though typically I plan to have it flower in a few weeks’ time. Luckily there’s one blooming early.” Mr. Higgins ducked under the leaves, wielding his shears. Snip. The flowering stalk wobbled. Mr. Higgins caught it and called to Mona, “Take one end. I’ll help you carry it to the door. We don’t want it dragging through the dirt.”

  Mona did as he asked. The flower was heavy, but she was able to keep it off the ground. When they reached the door, Mr. Higgins let go of his end.

  “Can you manage from here?” he asked.

  Mona nodded. “I think so.”

  “Best hurry up,” Mr. Higgins said. “Don’t want to keep Tilly waiting. Don’t let her give you grief, though. She’s been through a lot, but that’s no excuse.”

  Mona nodded again, surprised.

  Then Mr. Higgins gave her a wink and headed back into the garden.

  Holding the stem carefully, Mona dragged the flower down the hallway and into the lobby. Two shrew guests, chatting near the hearth, gave her an odd look as she pulled it around the couch and up the staircase. The stairs were hardest, and she was careful to go slowly so as not to damage the flower. By the time she reached the honeymoon suite, her limbs ached.

  The room was sparkling clean. The rollers and the bowl of marinated mushrooms were laid out on the desk, and the tie press sat in a basket on the freshly made bed. Binoculars hung from a hook in the doorway to the balcony. “Lean that flower against the pinecone,” ordered Tilly.

  As Mona struggled to do so, Tilly continued, “Then scrub the tub. That’s all that’s left. I’m going downstairs to eat. I’ve done my share. It’s not my fault you’re so slow.”

  But I had to get the flower. You asked me to, thought Mona. She remembered what Mr. Higgins had said, that she shouldn’t let Tilly boss her around. Still, she kept her thoughts to herself. She didn’t want to risk making Tilly grumpier.

  Instead she picked up a scrubber while Tilly strode out of the room, her bristly tail giving the doorframe a final dusting. “And by the way,” she added, “they’ll be here any moment.”

  With that, Tilly was gone, leaving Mona alone with the tub. Any moment? How would Mona ever finish in time? She had never cleaned a tub before. If she had, she would have known that she didn’t have to scrub the outside, but that’s what she did. She had only just started on the inside, using her cleaning basket as a stool to help her climb in, and was polishing the taps when the d
oor opened. At first she thought it might be Tilly returning, but an instant later, she knew it wasn’t.

  “There, there, my petite perfumery. No need to fret any longer. Here we are at last, and it is time to relax.”

  Mona crouched down low, her whiskers trembling.

  It was the skunks!

  Mona’s ears twitched as she listened, barely daring to breathe.

  “See. There’s everything here you like, darling.”

  “The binoculars? Where are the binoculars?”

  “Right here, my sweet aroma.”

  Steps crossed the room, and Mona could hear the door to the balcony being pushed open. “Do you think it’s safe out here?” came Lord Sudsbury’s voice.

  “You know the balconies are private, dear,” said Lady Sudsbury. “And well hidden by branches. Mr. Heartwood thinks of safety above all else.”

  “If you’re certain…”

  The suite was silent for a moment, and Mona imagined Lord Sudsbury gazing out through the binoculars, across the treetops.

  What should I do? Mona wondered. How long will they stay in the suite? What if they spend all afternoon here? She had to keep working. There was still lots to do in the rest of the hotel, but she didn’t want to suddenly show herself. They were guests and she wasn’t supposed to be in their room. Not to mention that if she surprised them, they might spray. And then she’d be in big trouble.

  “Oh, come, please, darling, put those down. You won’t see anything from here. We’re up too high, and very far from home now. Try to forget….”

  “Forget?” cried Lord Sudsbury. “When I know wolves are in the forest? And not just one or two, mind. A whole pack! And more are gathering, Rose!”

  Wolves! Mona remembered them from the night of the storm. Were more really gathering?

  “Oh, Hawthorne, you’re always worrying about something,” continued Lady Sudsbury. “Wolves, coyotes, foxes…even spiders. And that’s why I booked us here for an extended stay. There is nothing to harm us at the Heartwood Hotel. Wolves do not even know where it is! We are safe here, Hawthorne.”

  “Safe? SAFE?!”

  “Deep breaths, Hawthorne, deep breaths. You are working yourself up again.”

  “I am not!” cried Lord Sudsbury. Mona could hear him pacing. “It’s not like YOU heard the howls. It was ME who woke up that night. I heard them!” His footsteps grew louder and louder. Mona knew Lord Sudsbury was in the bathroom now.

  “And I CAN’T forget them, no matter WHAT you say. It wasn’t YOU who—ACK!”

  Mona looked up at a very handsome, very distressed skunk. He was wearing a black-and-white striped tie that matched his fur. His tail shook.

  Mona opened her mouth to explain, but too late….

  WHISH!

  Lord Sudsbury sprayed. The smell instantly filled the room, and the tub. Mona pinched her nose but it barely helped. She gasped and choked.

  “Oh, Hawthorne!” murmured Rose. “You just HAD to spray, didn’t you? And after what Mr. Heartwood said. Now we will have to leave. So much for safety. So much for relaxation…”

  “It was just a little!” cried Hawthorne, who tugged at his tie. “Rose, I didn’t mean to…but look!”

  Lady Sudsbury’s steps grew louder as she walked into the bathroom.

  “A mouse!” she gasped, looming over Mona.

  Lady Sudsbury’s black fur was curled and tied with tiny white bows, while her white fur was brushed smooth and sleek. Her tail shook and Mona thought she, too, might spray, but then she cleared her throat and her tail stopped shaking. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  Mona slowly stood up, pinching her nose. She tried not to tremble as she looked up at them.

  “I’b the maib,” she said.

  “The what?” asked Lord Sudsbury.

  “I think she’s the maid, my darling,” replied Lady Sudsbury.

  Mona unpinched her nose, the terrible aroma overwhelming her again. She tried to ignore it as she continued quickly. “Yes. I’m the maid, and I was just finishing cleaning the tub when you arrived….I’m so sorry.”

  Lord Sudsbury stared sadly at her, twisting his tie in his paw. “It’s too late now….”

  “It’s my fault,” said Mona.

  “It is your fault, indeed,” said Lady Sudsbury stormily. “I expect you will explain everything to Mr. Heartwood.”

  “Of…of course…” stammered Mona, her heart sinking.

  But to Mona’s relief, Lord Sudsbury quickly said, “Oh, don’t make her, Rose. What if Mr. Heartwood asks us to leave? It was me who sprayed, after all. I can’t bear to go home now, when we’ve just arrived.”

  “But the smell…” she replied. “The other guests and Mr. Heartwood are sure to notice even with this little bit. It’s too powerful.”

  Powerful. Mona had heard that before, and it gave her an idea. The peppermint! It was powerful smelling, too, but sweet and fresh. And Mr. Higgins said she could take some.

  “I…I think I can help,” said Mona.

  “What do you mean?” asked Lord Sudsbury.

  “Just wait right here,” she said as she climbed out of the tub. “Open the balcony door and fan the air. I’ll be right back.”

  Before leaving the room, Mona rubbed herself all over with the sprig of peppermint from her pocket. It didn’t get rid of the skunk’s smell completely, but it definitely disguised it. Then she hurried back to the garden for more.

  Mona’s plan worked. She and the Sudsburys crushed peppermint and stuffed it around the tub and under the bed—and even hung sprigs all over the pinecone—and when they were done, the mint masked most of the skunk odor. Lord Sudsbury was very grateful, and Lady Sudsbury’s glower softened. “It smells a little like home,” she said. And though it smelled nothing like a home Mona would want, she felt better—better enough to scurry away to have a bath (telling Tilly that she was dirty from the cleaning, which was sort of the truth). “Well you’ll have to miss lunch, then,” said Tilly, sniffing at Mona suspiciously. Mona nodded and hurried to the washroom.

  She ran a bath and scrubbed well, using a soap that was shaped like a little heart. The bubbles smelled like nuts and honey and made her think of cozy nights and full bellies.

  If she had a home, this was just the way she’d like it to smell. She sank into the warm water and, for a moment, felt as pampered as Lord and Lady Sudsbury (though, she thought, smiling to herself, much more relaxed).

  As the days passed, Mona got to know the hotel and its routines.

  Still, there was a lot to learn. She left her duster in a room once, and another time forgot to put out acorn cookies on a pillow. But soon enough, and with very little supervision, she was cleaning rooms all by herself.

  Mrs. Higgins was still too sick to spend much time with Mona, but now every morning Mona had a list of rooms pinned to the office door with one of the hedgehog’s spines, which looked almost like Ms. Prickles’s quills. Once Mona made the mistake of calling the hedgehog Ms. Prickles. Mrs. Higgins sternly reprimanded her, and Mona learned just how dissimilar the two were. Luckily, she was saved from further lecturing by a sneeze.

  “She needs a good rest,” said Tilly. “How could you think she looks like Ms. Prickles?! Humph!” There were no sneezes to save Mona from Tilly.

  Tilly, however, was strangely quiet and distracted when the squirrels—fifteen, from different parts of the forest—arrived. Their convention was certainly distracting. During their meetings in the ballroom, the squirrels were serious, but as soon as the meetings were over, they drank lots of malted honey, which led to flying squirrels soaring down the stairs, nut-cracking competitions, and—once—balcony jumping, which Mr. Heartwood was not pleased with. Mona and Tilly had to clean up the squirrels’ messes. One time Tilly even left her own duster in a room. When Mona rescued it, Tilly was actually nice and thanked her. But it didn’t take Tilly long to return to her usual self.

  One night, Tilly asked Mona if she was ever going to unpack her suitcase. When Mona confesse
d that there was nothing inside, Tilly laughed and said, “Good. Then you won’t have anything to pack up when you’re let go.” Mona tried to laugh, too, though the words stung. She wished she could say something, but she wasn’t quite sure what. She had never had to stand up for herself before; she’d always been on her own.

  Was Tilly alone, too? Mona had never seen her write a letter, or receive one, though many of the other staff did. Ms. Prickles had so many relatives that she was constantly getting small deliveries—letters and special herbs to cook with. Maggie and Maurice, the laundry rabbits, were, in fact, sister and brother. But Tilly never mentioned any family, and Mona was afraid to ask. Ms. Prickles gave Mona her only clue.

  After a particularly tough day with Tilly, Mona was sitting in the kitchen having some licorice tea and seedcakes. She was reaching for her fifth seedcake when Ms. Prickles chuckled.

  “Oh,” said Mona, pulling back her paw. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eat so many. I didn’t realize…”

  “No, no, I take it as a compliment, dearie. But tell me, is something the matter?”

  “It’s Tilly,” Mona confessed.

  Ms. Prickles sighed heavily. “What has she done now?”

  “Nothing, exactly…She’s just so…so mean to me. All the time. Everyone else is nice. You. Mrs. Higgins—even if she’s stern. Mr. Heartwood. But not her.”

  Ms. Prickles sighed again. “Don’t judge her too harshly, dearie. She’s had a tough time, that squirrel.”

  “That’s what Mr. Higgins said, too. But what do you mean?”

  “It’s not my tale to tell. Nor Mr. Higgins’s,” said the porcupine. “But remember, everyone’s heart has hurts. Some more than others.”

  Did a hurt allow you to hurt others, though? Mona didn’t think so. Still, she wondered exactly what hurts Tilly had. She couldn’t imagine Tilly ever crying. Not like Cybele, the swallow who she had seen on the balcony.

  Cybele obviously had hurts. No one knew how she had injured her wing. She was very shy and rarely left her room. All Mona knew was that she was booked to stay here for the rest of the fall and the winter, too.