Trinity whispered, “Let’s back away slowly. Very, very slowly. Don’t say a word, guys. Sh-sh-sh.”
One inch we backed up. Two inches. Three. The skunk didn’t move a millimeter. And why should it? We were the intruders! It was almost as if it were challenging us to cross its path. We were all so very quiet and careful. Then, just as I thought we had backed up far enough, my body decided to spazz up on me. Maybe it was the tension. Maybe it was the fear. I honestly don’t know. But right as we were slowly and silently backing up, my upper body jerked. My lower body kicked. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it—I squeaked, just a little. Oh no, oh no, oh no!
But the little animal only stared toward me—yep, I think it made eye contact! But still it did not move. I read someplace that skunks only attack if they feel threatened, so I did my best to give it an I mean you no harm kind of smile while we girls slowly, slowly continued to back away. Four inches. Eight. A foot! Ten feet. Fifteen. Complete silence.
The skunk must have decided we weren’t worth the trouble to raise a stink—ha, I made a pun—because it started to trundle back to wherever skunks live in the woods. And that was when Santiago and Devin decided to roll themselves over to see what was going on, doubling back toward us. Harley and Charles whisper-shouted for them to stop, but the boys seemed mesmerized. So their counselors hustled back as well to yank them away. But then they all froze, big-time, Noah and Malik not far behind them. Santiago’s speaker said, “Zorillo,” which I knew meant “skunk” in Spanish.
The skunk must have understood Spanish as well, because it suddenly paused, mid-jog, cocking its little head as if checking out who had dared to speak. Then it started tippy-tapping its front paws and slapping its tail against the ground. This most definitely couldn’t be good! We Falcons kept creeping backward slowly, slowly, twenty feet away, then thirty. But the Panthers were closer and clearly kind of freaked. They finally started moving backward, five feet, then ten….
And then the skunk stopped its odd dance, and, as if it had been devising this battle plan for years, it lifted its tail, aimed directly at the boys, and let loose. Arrrrgghh!! It smelled worse than an aerosol can full of funky farts! Worse than a bucket of armpit funk! Worse than a pile of yesterday’s dog poop!
The entire group of Panthers—counselors as well as campers—howled, screeched, gagged! Oh man, what a STINK! They got sprayed! Big-time!
As we all screeched, Trinity, Lulu, Sage, and Kim swiveled us around and RAN us back to camp. Even though none of us had been directly in the line of fire, we headed straight to the showers. Double doses of sweet-smelling body wash. And triple rinses. I wondered what the boys were using….
We stayed in there a very long time. “Wonder if the guys’ll have to change their names from the Purple Panthers to the Silver Skunks!” Karyn hollered from her stall.
Jocelyn laughed and yelled back, “Bet they would have rather seen a bear bear bear!”
But I did wonder if the guys who got skunked were okay. When we got dressed in fresh, never-worn-at-camp-yet clothes, I took a minute or two and looked it up on Elvira. I found out that the sulphuric acid in the skunk spray can cause breathing problems and, ohmigosh, even blindness. I’m pretty sure the guys were far enough away so they didn’t get a direct hit, but they were for sure gonna need a commercial skunk odor remover! We had laughed, but this was NO joke!
So I tapped out to the girls some of what I’d discovered. Our laughter turned to concern. Karyn rolled over to me. “My dad got skunked once,” she told us. “He took a bath in tomato juice! And then he took a bath in milk!” We cracked up. “But he still smelled like a rancid bowl of cream of tomato soup when he finished. Mom finally went to the hardware store and bought some professional stuff, but I didn’t hug my dad for a while after that!”
Athena kinda summed it up when she scrunched up her face and said, “Skunks rule for sure! I hope the boys are okay.”
Jocelyn stood by the window, gazing in the direction of the boys’ cabins. “Stinky but safe, stinky but safe, stinky but safe,” she whispered.
As we sat in the cabin, discussing how stinky the boys would be, and what you could wash the stench out with, I wrote a quick email home.
Dear Mom and Dad and Mrs. V—
Today’s science lesson was about skunks! You think trash bags left in the hot garage are stinky? That’s sweet perfume compared to the funk of a skunk! Thanks for packing the peppermint soap! Bye for now!
Smelling sweet and really thankful, we headed to the rest of the afternoon activities. The guys weren’t anywhere. I bet they did nothing but shower all afternoon.
We zoomed through art and music and even a swimming lesson before dinner, so I was starving by the time we rolled over there. The camp kitchen staff must have had industrial-strength equipment; they’ve managed to come up with some pretty good stuff. Tonight was a surprisingly yummy mystery casserole—Jocelyn guessed it was some kind of tuna—and a strawberry parfait for dessert. Cassie proudly announced that the strawberries were from the camp garden. I hoped some were being delivered to the Panthers!
CHAPTER 26
I really started to look forward to the fire gatherings. I’m usually never out at night, except in the back seat of our car, all strapped in while we made a last-minute grocery run or something ordinary like that. There was that amazing moment with that real live lightning bug on Mrs. V’s porch. But here, outside was every day, and every night. And every night blazed with crackling sticks and drifting sparkles. Killer awesome.
Tonight the guys from the Blue Badgers seemed to be in charge of setting up the fire. When our team arrived, it was already crackling.
I sniffed the air; no residual skunk smell—yet.