Bat and the End of Everything Read online

Israel thought about that. “I don’t know,” he said. “Pancakes are pretty floppy. And sticky.”

  “I’m going to learn to juggle pancakes,” Bat said, even though the thought of floppy, sticky pancakes in his hands made him uncomfortable.

  “Okay,” said Israel, and he grinned at Bat. He had a big, happy smile, and Bat loved it. He smiled back.

  “Here we are,” Tom announced, pulling up in front of Jenny’s house. “Last stop!”

  “This is the first stop,” Bat said. “Later you’re taking us to my house.”

  Tom turned around to look at Bat in the truck’s narrow back seat. He smiled too. “We missed you, Bat,” he said. Then he said, “Okay, I’m going to run to the grocery store, and I’ll be back to pick you boys up in an hour.”

  Maybe Jenny had been watching from the front window, because she opened the door before Bat and Israel had gone all the way up the walkway. “Hi, Bat! Hi, Israel!” she said.

  “Hi, Jenny,” said Israel.

  “Where is Babycakes?” asked Bat.

  “She’s in my room,” Jenny said. “Come on in.”

  Bat and Israel followed Jenny into the house and down the hall to her bedroom.

  “Did Bat tell you that Babycakes was sick?” Jenny asked Israel.

  “Yes,” said Israel. “How is she now?”

  “She’s great! We gave her all the antibiotics. Bat’s mom is amazing. She even came to check on Babycakes here at our house.”

  Jenny’s bedroom door was open. Bat could see Babycakes’s hutch and the white fluffy shape of Babycakes inside it.

  “Hey, Babycakes!” Israel said.

  The bunny looked up. Her whiskers twitched as if she was saying hello. Her eyes were clear and bright. Her head was straight, not tilted at all anymore. She looked freshly brushed, and her food dish and water bottle were both full.

  “Jenny,” Bat said, “you are an excellent animal caretaker.”

  Jenny’s face turned red. “Thank you, Bat,” she said. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

  After they all petted Babycakes and told her what a good fluffy bunny she was, Bat and Israel and Jenny went into the kitchen and drank the orange juice her mom had poured for them and ate some cookies. They were not as good as the cookies Janie made at home, but Bat didn’t say that out loud, even though it was true.

  Then Jenny asked Israel, “How was your trip to Canada?”

  And Bat had to listen again as Israel told Jenny all the stuff he’d already told Bat—about the chickens, and the swimming, and Robert’s amazing juggling.

  “My cousin Robert is really cool,” Israel told Jenny. “He’s probably going to come visit me next spring. His parents say they can put him on a plane all by himself and we can pick him up from the airport and he can stay for a whole week!”

  “Is he your best friend now?” Bat said. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, and as soon as he did, he wished he could pull the words back into his mouth.

  “What?” said Israel.

  “Nothing,” said Bat. “Never mind.”

  “Ba-at,” said Israel. “Robert is my cousin and he’s cool and he can juggle anything—well, almost anything—but you’re my best friend.”

  Bat smiled. “I’m glad you’re home,” he told Israel.

  “Me too,” Israel answered. “Even though I’m going to miss those eggs.”

  When Bat and Israel were back in Tom’s truck, driving to Bat’s house for their sleepover, Israel said, “Bat, I want to ask you something. But promise not to get mad, okay?”

  “I can’t promise not to get mad,” Bat said. “I don’t know what you’re going to ask.”

  Israel blew out of his mouth, making a sound like a deflating balloon. Then he glanced up at his dad, who was looking at them in the rearview mirror. Tom smiled a little, which seemed to encourage Israel to speak. “Well, try not to act mad. Like, don’t yell or say anything mean.”

  Bat nodded. He couldn’t help his feelings, but he could try to help how he reacted. Like when he was around Thor—then, even if Bat had big uncomfortable feelings, he tried to remember not to make scary loud sounds or move too quickly, because if he did, Thor might spray. Bat could make the sounds and move his body around, but not in the same room as Thor. “I’ll try,” Bat promised.

  “It’s about your skunk,” Israel said. “I’m worried about what’s going to happen when you let him go.”

  Bat didn’t like thinking about releasing Thor into the wild, and he didn’t like talking about it, either. But he remembered how it had felt to talk about it with Jenny, that day in her bathroom. It hadn’t felt good. But maybe it felt better than not talking about it.

  “I’m worried too,” Bat said at last. “I don’t know how he is going to find food, or if he will know how to find a dry place to sleep when it rains.” Prickly tears filled his eyes.

  “Oh,” said Israel. “I didn’t even think about those things.”

  “Bat,” said Tom from the driver’s seat as they pulled up to a red light, “Israel is worried about you.”

  “About me?” Bat asked.

  “Yeah,” said Israel. “About you.”

  Israel was worried about him. The ache in Bat’s chest that came from worrying about Thor felt a little bit better, knowing that Israel was worried about him. Not all the way better. But a little better.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Israel asked.

  It took Bat a long time to answer, because his throat felt too tight for words to get through. When he did talk, his voice cracked and hurt. “I’m going to be really, really sad,” he finally said.

  Israel sighed and dropped his arm around Bat’s shoulders. “Me too,” he said.

  Tom looked at them in the rearview mirror. “Me three,” he said. The three of them sat quietly in the cab of the truck, engine rumbling.

  Then the light turned green, and they started on their way again.

  CHAPTER 23

  Family Meeting

  “Hey, Bat, isn’t that your dad’s car?” Israel asked when Tom pulled his truck up to the front of Bat’s house.

  Yes—that was Dad’s little yellow sports car, parked in the driveway next to Mom’s burgundy wagon.

  “It’s not an Every-Other Weekend,” Bat said. “He only comes over on Every-Other Weekends.”

  Israel followed Bat up to the front door. It was unlocked. Bat pushed the door open.

  “Mom?” he said.

  “We’re in here,” said Mom from the kitchen.

  Israel trailing behind, Bat went into the kitchen.

  There was his mom, and his dad, and Janie, all sitting at the table. Janie had her laptop closed in front of her.

  “Hey, sport!” Dad said.

  “Bat,” said Mom, “your dad dropped by because he wanted to talk about something. And I agree. It’s time we have a family meeting. About Thor.”

  “Maybe I should go, Bat,” Israel said. “We can do the sleepover another night.”

  “No,” said Bat. “Stay. You’re my best friend.”

  “Please stay,” Bat’s mom said, so Israel did.

  They all sat around the kitchen table, Bat’s dad sitting on the kitchen stool because there weren’t enough chairs for everyone.

  They were going to tell him that it was time to release Thor. Bat was sure that was what they were going to say. But it wasn’t the right thing to do. Bat felt certain about that. He and Thor belonged together. And he wasn’t going to let Thor go without a fight.

  “I don’t want to let Thor go into the wild,” Bat said. It felt so good to say the words out loud, the words he had been thinking all summer. “I want to keep him forever. I am the best skunk caretaker for Thor, and he belongs with me.” Bat folded his arms across his chest, ready to fight with everyone.

  “I agree,” said Israel, even though he wasn’t family and this was a family meeting. “Bat loves Thor, and Thor loves Bat.”

  Bat smiled at Israel. He was so glad his friend was home from Canada, and h
e was glad that Israel was on his side. Israel smiled back, with all his teeth.

  “You are a good friend, Israel,” Bat’s mom said.

  “Thank you,” said Israel. “Bat is a good friend too.”

  It felt good to know that at least Israel agreed with him. And then Janie spoke.

  “I think Bat should keep Thor too,” she said.

  “Really?” said Bat. His arms loosened in surprise. It was true that Janie had gotten nicer about the skunk since the night Thor sprayed at her school play. She had given Thor a hairbrush, and she’d taken pictures of him, and she’d sometimes visited Thor in Bat’s room. But Bat would never have guessed that Janie would want Thor to stay.

  “Yes,” said Janie. She opened her laptop and pressed a few keys. “Look,” she said, and then she turned the laptop around so that everyone else could see it. “Remember Dr. Jerry Dragoo, the skunk expert Bat wrote to when we first rescued Thor?”

  Dr. Jerry Dragoo was the founder of the Dragoo Institute for the Betterment of Skunks and Skunk Reputations, and he had told Bat that even though skunks don’t usually make good pets, what makes a good pet is a good caretaker. And that had made Bat determined to be the best possible caretaker for Thor.

  “Well,” said Janie, “I wrote to him. I sent him a bunch of pictures of Bat and Thor that I’ve taken over the summer. See?”

  And there were the pictures—Thor on Bat’s lap, his eyes closed in pleasure as Bat groomed him with Janie’s hairbrush; Thor eating a meal that Bat had prepared; the vegetable garden Israel and Bat had planted, green and full, with the little painted sign that read “Thor’s Garden”; Bat with Thor draped across his shoulders, their noses touching.

  “I told Dr. Jerry Dragoo how much you love Thor, and what a good caretaker you are,” Janie said. “I told him how gentle and kind you are with him, and how you stay calm around him, even when it’s hard for you. I told him that Thor has only gotten scared enough to spray that one time. And Dr. Jerry Dragoo wrote back to me.”

  “Read us the email he sent, Janie,” said Dad.

  Janie turned the laptop back around and read.

  “‘Dear Janie,’” she began. “‘Thank you for sending the pictures of Bat and Thor. It is clear that Bat is an excellent caretaker, and that he and Thor are very attached to each other. It is almost always best for a skunk to be returned to the wild, but in a situation such as this, when the skunk has bonded to his caretaker and when the caretaker has bonded to his skunk, the best decision for both boy and skunk would be for them to remain together. Bat and Thor are very lucky to have each other, and Bat is also very lucky to have a sister like you.’”

  Janie looked up from her laptop, grinning.

  Bat could hardly believe it. “Is that why you took all those pictures?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Janie. “For evidence.”

  To Bat, love meant doing things. Bat showed Thor how much he loved him by feeding him and cleaning his litter box and grooming his coat. And right then, sitting in the kitchen, Bat felt more certain than he ever had that Janie loved him. Because of what she had done for him and Thor. Because of evidence.

  “That’s so cool that you wrote to Dr. Jerry Dragoo, and he wrote back!” Israel said.

  “Thanks,” said Janie. She closed her laptop.

  Bat’s dad said, “You might not believe this, but I wrote to a skunk expert too. And today I got his response. That’s why I stopped by.” He pulled a folded-up letter from his pocket. “I was telling my friend Suzette about Thor, and she mentioned that she’d once met a scientist who studies skunks. Get this—his name is Dr. Ted Stankowich!”

  “Stankowich?” said Israel. “That’s the perfect name for a skunk expert!”

  “What did Dr. Stankowich say?” Bat asked.

  “He says that a skunk as bonded as Thor is to you probably wouldn’t do very well in the wild,” Dad said. “He might be too friendly with humans, who could think he’s dangerous if he walked right up to them, and he might not know how to deal with predators, like coyotes or owls. And then, at the end, he wrote, ‘Skunks that are bonded to owners make terrific, loving pets if raised in the right way.’” Dad looked up from the letter and smiled. “And you’ve certainly raised Thor well,” he said. “I’m really proud of how good you are with him.”

  Bat smiled back. His dad wasn’t a fan of animals, like Bat and Mom were. But still, he’d written to Dr. Stankowich, and he thought that Bat should keep Thor too. “That’s cool that you found another skunk expert,” Bat said. “Thank you.”

  Dad grinned. “I love you, sport.”

  And this time, the nickname didn’t bother Bat at all.

  Mom cleared her throat. “I’ve been doing some research too,” she said. “And, Bat, I agree with Dr. Jerry Dragoo, and Dr. Stankowich, and your dad, and your sister, and Israel. You and Thor belong together.”

  Bat could hardly believe what he was hearing. He didn’t have to fight at all. Everyone understood how much he and Thor needed each other.

  They understood. They understood him.

  Bat looked around at all the smiling faces. Mom, and Dad, and Janie, and Israel. Light was coming through the kitchen window, shining in golden dapples on everyone.

  His body felt all sorts of things mixed up together—happy and excited and sort of sick, like he’d been on a roller coaster. Overwhelmed, like he needed to be alone for a while, and grateful, like he wanted to stay right where he was. He felt his elbows bend and his hands beginning to flap, which helped him to feel better.

  “I’ll be right back,” Bat said at last. He stood up and went to his room. For a minute, he just stood there as his hands calmed down and dropped to his sides, as he breathed deeply until his stomach stopped fluttering. There were tears on his cheeks, Bat realized, and he wiped them away. He took one more deep, ragged breath. Then he walked over to the enclosure, where Thor was curled into a ball in his T-shirt nest.

  Bat opened the gate. “Little Thor,” he cooed softly. Thor blinked open his eyes, yawned lazily, and stretched. Then he walked right over and waited to be picked up. Bat scooped up the skunk gently, held him close, and kissed his head. Thor nuzzled his leathery nose into the crook of Bat’s neck, just the way he always did.

  “Come on,” Bat said, helping Thor onto his favorite spot, Bat’s shoulder. “We’re having a family meeting.”

  Bat walked back to the kitchen, Thor balanced on his shoulder. Everyone was still there, at the table, waiting for him.

  “We’re back,” Bat said. “We’re all here now. The whole family.”

  The kitchen was full of sunlight, and love, and warmth. It was full with a mom who was a hero veterinarian, and a dad who was trying to do better every day, and a good sister who sometimes had hard days too, just like Bat, and a best friend, home from Canada, and a perfect skunk named Thor, and a boy called Bat, who knew, right then, that he was exactly where he belonged.

  Author’s Note

  Believe it or not, not only is there a real Dr. Jerry Dragoo, who really does run the Dragoo Institute for the Betterment of Skunks and Skunk Reputations, there is also a real Dr. Ted Stankowich!

  Both of these experts agree that the best place for wild animals is in the wild . . . except in a rare case like Thor’s, when the animal is so bonded to humans that being released wouldn’t be safe.

  You can visit Dr. Jerry Dragoo’s website at www.dragoo.org and the Stankowich Lab at www.csulb.edu/~tstankow if you’d like to learn more.

  Heartfelt thanks to Dr. Jerry Dragoo and Dr. Ted Stankowich for their input and advice.

  Acknowledgments

  Writing Bat’s story has been a unique pleasure. I am so grateful to all the people who have joined me along Bat’s journey: my friend Adah Nuchi; my agent, Rubin Pfeffer; my editor, Jordan Brown; all the wonderful people at Walden Pond Press—go, Team Bat!; real-life skunk experts Dr. Jerry Dragoo and Dr. Ted Stankowich; my own loving family; and the teachers, librarians, parents, and kids who love Bat, too.
/>   In these books, Bat’s circle of friendship and support grows and grows, and in writing and sharing these books, my own circle has grown, as well. Most of all, I’m grateful to Bixby Alexander Tam, the boy called Bat, for coming to me in the first place.

  About the Author

  ELANA K. ARNOLD grew up in Southern California, where she was lucky enough to have her own perfect pet—a gorgeous mare named Rainbow—and a family who let her read as many books as she wanted. She is the author of picture books, middle grade novels, and books for teens, including Damsel and What Girls Are Made Of, a finalist for the National Book Award. She lives in Huntington Beach, California, with her husband, two children, and a menagerie of animals. You can find her online at www.elanakarnold.com.

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  Books by Elana K. Arnold

  A Boy Called Bat

  Bat and the Waiting Game

  Copyright

  Walden Pond Press is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Walden Pond Press and the skipping stone logo are trademarks and registered trademarks of Walden Media, LLC.

  BAT AND THE END OF EVERYTHING. Text copyright © 2019 by Elana K. Arnold. Illustrations copyright © 2019 by Charles Santoso. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  www.harpercollinschildrens.com

  Cover art © 2019 by CHARLES SANTOSO

  Cover design by AURORA PARLAGRECO

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