Civil War

"The gerbil's loose!" shouted Heather the next night, just at bedtime.

"How in creation?" asked Daddy. This time he saw Heather stretched across the doorway and stepped over her carefully.

"Mikey did it," said Bobby, with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Bobby told me to," said Mikey.

"But he did it," said Bobby grinning. "And now we have to catch him."

"No, we don't," said Daddy. "To bed with all of you."

"But what are you going to do, dear?" Mommy asked.

"Leave some food and water in the middle of the room and shut the door. We'll worry about catching him tomorrow. Right now it's bedtime."

But the next day, there was no sign of Chester, and the food was untouched.

"He's gone, Daddy. He's gone," Heather sobbed, shaking all over.

"That's all right, honey. Don't you worry," Mommy comforted her. "Daddy will find him."

"Daddy will what?" Daddy asked.

Mommy glared at him.

"Okay, okay," he gave in. "Everybody to bed. I'll take care of this."

Daddy put a board across the doorway -- tall enough so the gerbil couldn't jump over. And with Mommy's help, once again he removed all the furniture and all the toys from the room. Only this time, without Bobby to help, they found no sign of Chester.

The next day, Heather wouldn't talk to Daddy; she wouldn't even look at him.

Mikey whined even more than usual.

And Bobby walked around with a grin on his face as if to say, "Okay, gang, when are you going to let the pro get to work on this case?"

That night Daddy gave in, "All right, Bob. See what you can do."

Bobby walked straight to the tightly-packed toy closet and opened the door. Stuffed animals fell all over the floor. Bobby picked them up and threw them to the other end of the room, then took out more and more, emptying the closet.

Daddy shut his eyes in despair.

Mikey started playing with the stuffed animals.

Heather picked up one, hugged it, and started crying, "My Mickey Mouse. It's broken. My Mickey Mouse."

"Let me see that," said Bobby. "Just like I thought," he added, doing a Sherlock Holmes imitation. "That's an animal bite on the foot. Either Chester's in that closet, or we have mice."

"Mice?" asked Mikey. "Can we have mice too, Daddy? Can we? Can we please? I'll take care of them. Honest, I will."

"Mice?" asked Mommy. "You think there might be mice? I just remembered I have to do the dishes tonight." She left in a hurry.

They found three more stuffed animals with bite marks. Then Bobby lunged and shouted, "I've got him! I've got him!"

"My hero," exclaimed Heather, giving Bobby a big kiss as he put Chester back in the cage.

"Now let this be a lesson to you," Daddy began to lecture. "Don't let a gerbil out on purpose because next time we might not be able to find him. And he could die, do you understand?"

Right then Bobby took the lid off the gerbil cage again, reached in and pulled out Chester.

"What do you think you're doing?" yelled Daddy.

"They were fighting, Dad, fighting. Look they're all bleeding already -- Chester the most. They ganged up on him Dad. I couldn't just let them kill him."

"What are we going to do, Daddy? What are we going to do?" asked Heather.

"Well, for now, young lady, you're going to bed."

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