“Oh my goodness!” she stammered.
“It’s quite all right, my dear,” said the kind voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Pinky noticed that the opossum had four wee babies clinging to her back, all eyes fixed on her.
“It’s alright children,” said the opossum gently, and the babies hopped down one by one to get a better sniff of Pinky. One was almost as big as Pinky herself. “I’m Fiona,” she said shyly, “And that’s my mama and brothers.”
“I’m Mrs. Mim and this is Joey, Boo and Carl,” she said introducing the others.
“I’m Pinky,” she said.
“What in the world are you doing in these woods all by yourself, little one?” Mrs. Mim asked, but there was tenderness in her voice so that Pinky wasn’t afraid.
“I got lost,” Pinky said, her eyes filling with tears as if she finally realized all that she had been through in the past twelve hours.
Mrs. Mim hugged her tightly and stroked her head, “There, there dear. Don’t cry,” she said soothingly. “We’ll help you get back home again. Tell us where you live. Is it behind the Farmer’s Market? Do you live under Gunther’s barn?”
“Hey Mom, look at these!” squealed Joey, holding up the packet of candies.
“Put that down Joey! You know better than to touch something that doesn’t belong to you.”
“It’s all right,” said Pinky, drying her tears. “I was planning on bringing it back home to Cocoa, but I can’t figure out how to open it.”
“Oh, we know all about candy wrappers!” bragged Boo stepping forward. “We live behind the dumpster at Louie’s Super Thrift.”
Carl and Joey grabbed either end and soon the paper burst open showering everyone in multi-colored chocolate pieces.
“Boys! Boys!” shouted Mrs. Mim, desperately trying to put the pieces back in the ruined package.
“Help yourselves,” Pinky said. “I’ll just save a few for Cocoa. He’s so big, he won’t need to eat the entire bag.” She tucked several pieces in her pouch and then popped one into her mouth. Her eyes shot open in alarm, “Say! This is yummy!”
The other opossums laughed, “You’ve never had chocolate before?” asked Fiona with surprise. “We have candy all the time.”
“Finona…” Mrs. Mim began.
“Well, as often as Mama allows it.”
Mrs. Mim began biting the heads off of the termites and putting the bodies into her pouch, while her children happily ate the candy. “Your journey must’ve made you hungry,” she remarked, handing a writhing termite to Pinky.
“No thank you, Mrs. Mim. I had an amazing lunch on the bus.”
“How on earth did you get on the bus?” Mrs. Mim asked in disbelief.
“I got trapped in a backpack and the next thing I knew I was riding on the school bus with a bunch of unruly children. I found a fabulous sandwich, but I have no idea what it was made of.”
“Oh, that’s peanut butter! We have that all the time!” Fiona exclaimed after sniffing Pinky’s whiskers, and then hastily added, “Or at least as often as Mama allows.”
Mrs. Mim cocked an eyebrow in Fiona’s direction and went back to gathering bugs.
“If you live behind a dumpster why are you all the way out here in the woods?” Pinky inquired politely.
“Diversity!” Mrs. Mim cried enthusiastically. “One gets very tired of eating scraps day in and day out.”
Pinky nodded, “Cocoa says that all the time, but he never seems to get so tired of them that he’d venture out to find his own food.”
“I like grape jelly, but I don’t like mushrooms,” said Joey, crinkling his nose.
“I’d have to say that my favorite food is cheese,” Boo piped in. “And cookies and pizza.”
Pinky laughed thinking that Boo would some day grow into a perfect Cocoa.
“We don’t usually venture out in the day time, only on Mondays,” said Fiona. “That’s when the big truck comes and empties the dumpster.”
“Not that there’s much left in it by Monday!” exclaimed Carl.
“Yeah, we’re pretty thorough,” added Joey.
“So, Pinky, where’s your home?” asked Mrs. Mim.
Pinky described the abandoned rabbit’s warren in the woods behind the shed and the pretty periwinkle house. Mrs. Mim raised an eyebrow and said, “Periwinkle?” Pinky explained, “The Big Lady’s an artist.”
“Ah,” said Mrs. Mim, shaking her head. “Oddly enough, I’ve never heard of such a place.”
“We live near a stream!” Pinky remembered, trying to be as helpful as possible.
“Then it should be easy to get you back home. We’ll follow the stream. Come along children, climb aboard!” said Mrs. Mim, her pouch bulging with the dead bugs she had gathered.
The children scrambled onto her back. “Do you live downstream or upstream?”
Downstream or upstream? Pinky struggled to remember, but didn’t have a reference point since most of the journey on the school bus was spent inside the dark backpack.
“Come now, Pinky. You must know a little more about your address than just the color of the house you live behind.”
Pinky was embarrassed that she hadn’t a clue. To her it was always just the warren in the woods behind the shed.
“We’ll head upstream, since that’s the way to our home. Maybe something will look familiar to you. Of course, you’re welcome to stay with us if you’d like.”
Fiona clapped her hands, glad to have a new playmate at last.
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