February Friend Read online

  “So what could be wrong with him?” Bradley asked. “He won’t move or anything.”

  “I’ve seen this before,” the vet said. “Dogs, cats, even monkeys, sometimes stop eating when they feel lonely. I think your rabbit misses his owner. He feels abandoned, confused. He may be in shock, and that’s why he won’t eat or drink.”

  The kids looked at Douglas on the table.

  Dr. Henry put the rabbit back into his cage. “I’m afraid Douglas will become very sick if he doesn’t start eating and taking water,” he said. “He could die.”

  “But what can we do?” Bradley asked.

  Dr. Henry stroked the rabbit’s soft ears. “If this were my rabbit, I’d return him to his real owner,” he said. “And soon.”

  5

  Running Out of Time

  On their way home, the twins’ mom drove up Main Street. Brian sat up front and the other kids were in the back. Douglas’s cage lay across their laps.

  Suddenly Bradley sat up. He tapped his mother’s shoulder. “Mom, stop!” he shouted.

  “Here? Why?” his mother asked.

  “I want to take Douglas into the pet shop,” Bradley said. “Mrs. Wong might know his owner!”

  “Great idea,” his mother said. She pulled the car up in front of the Furry Feet Pet Shop. All four kids climbed out. Bradley and Lucy carried the cage through the front door.

  “Hi, kids,” Mrs. Wong said. “What have you got?”

  Mrs. Wong was dropping fish food into an aquarium. All along the walls were fish tanks and animal cages.

  “It’s a rabbit, and he won’t eat,” Nate said.

  Mrs. Wong peered into the cage at Douglas.

  The kids explained how Douglas had been left in their classroom closet. Then they told her what Dr. Henry had told them.

  “So you want to know if I know the owner, right?” Mrs. Wong asked.

  The four kids nodded.

  Mrs. Wong put her hand in the cage.She stroked the rabbit’s fur. Douglas sat in a corner with his eyes closed.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen this bunny,” she said. “And I don’t know anyone in town who owns one like this.”

  Bradley felt awful. How would they ever find Douglas’s owner?

  The kids thanked Mrs. Wong and carried Douglas back to the car.

  “Any luck?” Bradley’s mom asked. She pulled into traffic.

  “No, she’d never seen Douglas before,” Bradley said.

  “I’m sorry, hon,” his mother said.

  “I have an idea,” Nate said. “We could put an ad in the newspaper. We could ask whoever left Douglas at the school to get in touch with us.”

  “But that could take days,” Bradley said.

  “We need to find Douglas’s owner soon!” Lucy said.

  When they got home, the kids carried Douglas back up to Bradley and Brian’s room.

  “Come down in a few minutes,” the twins’ mom called up the stairs. “I’ll make hot chocolate.”

  “Thanks, Mom!” Brian yelled back.

  They set the cage on Bradley’s desk.

  “He doesn’t look any different,” Nate said.

  “Maybe we should leave him alone for a while,” Lucy said.

  “Maybe he just doesn’t like kids,” Brian suggested.

  They all stared at the rabbit. His eyes were closed, and he didn’t move.

  “Come on,” Bradley said sadly. “Let’s go downstairs.”

  He picked up the three photos as they left the room.

  Bradley’s mom was stirring a pot of hot chocolate on the stove.

  The kids sat and Bradley spread out the pictures of Douglas.

  “Where’d you get those?” the twins’ mother asked.

  “They were in the cage,” Brian said. “His owner must have left them.”

  Lucy pointed to the picture that showed Douglas in someone’s hand. “He was so cute when he was little,” she said.

  Suddenly Bradley had an idea. “Guys, these pictures could be clues!” he said.

  6

  Scar Finger

  “Clues to what?” Nate asked.

  “We want to find Douglas’s owner, right?” Bradley said. He pointed at the hand holding the tiny rabbit. “If this is his owner’s hand, maybe we can find out who it is!”

  They all stared at the picture.

  Bradley’s mother reached over and pointed with her mixing spoon. “Well, we can tell that it’s a man’s right hand,” she said.

  “Boy, he has hairy knuckles!” Nate said.

  “And he’s got a scar on his little finger,” Lucy put in.

  The kids bent closer to the picture. “The scar is shaped like the letter C,” Bradley said.

  “Cool,” Nate said. “Now we just have to find a hairy guy with that scar on his right pinkie.”

  “Lots of luck,” Brian said.

  Lucy studied the picture showing Douglas on a patch of grass. “He must live somewhere with a lawn,” she said. “And tall hedges.”

  “That’s about half the yards in Green Lawn,” Nate said. “Even we have hedges!”

  Bradley took a closer look at the picture. “He grows vegetables,” he said. “See, those are tomatoes.”

  Bradley’s mother set four mugs and a bag of marshmallows on the table. “Careful, it’s hot!” she said.

  They thanked Mrs. Pinto and took noisy sips.

  “Well, we’ll never find the vegetable garden,” Brian said. He pointed out the kitchen window. “There’s a foot of snow in everyone’s yard.”

  “What about other clues?” Lucy asked. She picked up the picture that showed Douglas sitting on the wooden bench. “Are there any benches like this in Green Lawn?”

  Bradley studied the picture. “Guys, I don’t think this is a bench,” he said.

  “Then what is it?” Brian asked, taking the picture.

  “I think it’s a seat in a rowboat,” Bradley said. “See the water behind it? And that’s not a railing, it’s the outside of the boat.”

  Bradley opened a drawer under the counter. He pulled out a magnifying glass and held it over the picture. “It says S-K-I on the side of the boat,” he said.

  Brian grinned. “Ron’s Bait Shop has boats for rent,” he said. “Ron’s last name is Pinkowski, and people call him Ski.”

  “Awesome!” Nate said. “Let’s go ask him if he knows anyone with a rabbit.”

  “It’s February,” Brian said. “Mr. Pinkowski rents out boats in the summertime.”

  Bradley shook his head. “He sells bait for ice fishing, too.”

  He grabbed the three pictures. “What are we waiting for?” he asked.

  7

  Bunny in a Boat

  The kids hiked on River Road, along Indian River. The sun shone brightly on the snow and the water.

  “How far is it to the bait shop?” Lucy asked.

  “It’s just up the river, past the middle school,” Bradley said.

  Soon they saw the bait shop. It was a small wooden building with windows facing the river. Smoke came from a chimney. A black pickup truck sat next to the shop.

  “I hear a noise,” Nate said.

  They all did. THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

  The kids walked around the building to the entrance. A tall man with a beard was chopping wood. His nose was red and his breath was white.

  “Hi, Mr. Pinkowski,” Bradley said.

  The man looked up and smiled. He set his ax down and wiped his face with a handkerchief. “Hi, kids.” He smiled at Lucy. “Have we met?”

  “This is Lucy,” Bradley said. “She’s Dink’s cousin from California.”

  Ron put out his hand and they shook. “You kids want to buy some bait?” he asked.

  “No, but we have a question for you,” Bradley said. “Do you know anyone with a black-and-white rabbit?” He handed Ron the pictures.

  “Well, he’s sitting in one of my boats, all right,” Ron said. “But I’ve never seen the bunny before.”

  The
kids told Ron about finding the rabbit in the closet at school. They explained that Douglas wouldn’t eat and told him what the vet said.

  Ron pulled on his nose. “I wish I could help,” he said. “Have you tried asking at the pet shop on Main Street?”

  “Yes, but they don’t know the rabbit, either,” Lucy said.

  “Wait a second,” Ron said. “My wife might have rented out the boat.”

  He pulled out a cell phone and punched in some numbers. “Honey, it’s me at the shop. Do you remember renting one of the boats to a guy with a rabbit? You did? Who was it, do you remember? The Pinto twins and their friends are here trying to find the rabbit’s owner.”

  Ron listened for another minute, then said good-bye. “My wife says it was an older man with white hair,” he told the kids. “He rented the boat last summer. “

  “Did your wife write down his name?” Bradley asked. He had his fingers crossed.

  Ron nodded his head. “Yep, we always take names when we rent boats,” he said. “But it’s tax time. We sent all our paperwork to our accountant. The slip of paper with his name on it is in a box with hundreds of others.”

  The kids thanked Ron Pinkowski and left. A cold wind blew off the river. A few small snowflakes flew into their faces.

  Bradley felt his stomach sink. They were running out of clues and time. Someone in this town has to know who owns Douglas, he thought.

  Then he realized there was a person in town who knew everyone!

  “Come on, we’re going to Ellie’s Diner!” Bradley yelled into the wind.

  “I don’t have any money,” Nate said.

  “We’re going there to talk to Ellie,” Bradley said. “She knows everyone, so maybe she knows rabbits, too!”

  Cutting across the school grounds, it took them only a few minutes to reach the diner. The inside was warm and smelled like doughnuts. They sat in a booth by the window and took off their mittens.

  “Hi, kids,” Ellie said. She was wiping a shelf where she kept doughnuts, cookies, and bagels. She placed some cookies on a plate. “Here, eat these. They’re left over. If you don’t want them, I’ll feed them to the squirrels. “

  The kids thanked Ellie and each took a cookie.

  Bradley pulled out the pictures again. “This is Douglas. We’re looking for his owner,” he said. He explained how they had found Douglas at school the morning before.

  “He misses his owner and won’t eat,” Bradley said.

  “We think the owner is an older man with white hair,” said Nate.

  Ellie studied the pictures. “I’ve seen this rabbit,” she said.

  8

  Ellie to the Rescue

  “You have? Where?” Bradley asked.

  “Out front,” Ellie told the excited kids. “It was around Thanksgiving, and it was real warm outside. A boy came by on a bike.” Ellie tapped one of the pictures. “This rabbit was sitting in the bike’s basket.”

  “Do you know who the boy was?” asked Nate.

  Ellie shook her head. “No, I don’t think he was from Green Lawn,” she said. “He was older than you kids. He might have been visiting someone for the holiday.”

  “Maybe he was visiting the man with the scar on his finger!” Lucy said.

  “It could be his grandfather,” Brian suggested.

  Bradley pulled out the picture that showed Douglas sitting on a lawn near a hedge. “And maybe this is that man’s lawn,” he said.

  Ellie pointed toward the back of her diner. “When the boy left, he rode his bike that way, toward the bird streets,” she said.

  “What’s a bird street?” asked Lucy.

  “Over by Bridge Lane all the streets are named after birds,” Brian explained.

  The four kids huddled over the picture.

  “There are at least ten bird streets,” Brian said. “They all have lawns, and they all have hedges.”

  Bradley put his finger on the picture. “Look, there’s something on the other side of that hedge,” he said.

  “It looks like a building,” Lucy said.

  “Guys, I think it’s the town hall,” Nate said. “That must be the flag on top.”

  “No, it can’t be the town hall,” Brian said. “There are no houses near it, and no hedges.”

  Bradley held the picture closer. “It’s Center Church!” he said. “That isn’t a flag on top, it’s the church steeple.”

  Bradley looked up, grinning. “All we have to do is find which house has a view of the church over the hedge!” he said.

  “Almost all of them do, Brad,” Brian said. “We’ll never find the right one.”

  “Yes, we will,” Bradley said. He slipped the pictures into a pocket. “We have to, for Douglas!”

  “So what do we do?” Nate asked.

  “We should walk down Bridge Lane,” Bradley suggested. “We’ll pass by all the bird streets, and we can look over the hedges for the church.”

  The kids thanked Ellie and pulled on their mittens. Outside, the wind was blowing harder. The sky was dark gray.

  “It’s starting to snow,” Nate said. He stuck his tongue out to catch a flake.

  “Let’s hurry!” Bradley said.

  The kids walked past the fitness center and turned left onto Bridge Lane. The first street they came to was Wren Drive. They walked to the end of the short street, where tall hedges grew. They looked over the hedges.

  “I can see the church,” Bradley said. “But it doesn’t look like the same view as in the picture.”

  “Let’s try the next street,” suggested Lucy.

  They hurried back up Wren Drive, then went left to Blue Jay Way.

  They peered over the hedge behind the last house. “This doesn’t look right, either,” Brian said.

  They could all see the church steeple. But when they compared it to the picture, the views didn’t seem the same.

  They looked over the hedges behind Pheasant Lane, Owl Road, and Thrush Court. One of the hedges was too tall. Another one had a tree growing out of it. The hedge at the end of Thrush Court had a white fence in front of it.

  “None of these are right,” Bradley said.

  “How many more of these bird streets are there?” Lucy asked.

  “A few more,” Bradley said. His nose was red and running. Snowflakes were catching in his eyelashes. “Come on, guys, it has to be one of these.”

  The kids hiked to Finch Lane. They came to a small yellow house. Behind the house was a neat hedge. It was covered with snow.

  Bradley pulled out the picture and held it up. “I think we found the street!” he said.

  9

  The Man with the Scar

  “Now what do we do?” Lucy asked.

  “Let’s knock on some doors,” Nate suggested.

  “Then what?” Brian asked. “We can’t ask them if they left their rabbit in our closet.”

  “Why not?” Nate asked.

  “Because whoever did it doesn’t want us to know,” Brian said.

  Just then they noticed a man wearing a heavy coat and hat walking toward them. He was carrying a stack of flattened cardboard boxes.

  “Hey, guys, that’s Mr. Neater, the school janitor,” Brian said.

  “Hi, kids, enjoying your long weekend?” Mr. Neater asked. Snowflakes had covered his hat and shoulders.

  “Hi, Mr. Neater,” Lucy said. “Can we help you carry those?”

  “I never refuse help,” Mr. Neater said. “Here you go.”

  The kids took the empty boxes from Mr. Neater’s arms. They followed him to the last house on Finch Lane. A FOR SALE sign stuck out of the snow in front. Bradley looked over the hedge and saw the church steeple.

  “Are you selling your house, Mr. Neater?” Bradley asked.

  He nodded. “Yep. Retiring in a couple of weeks,” he said. “I’ll be moving to a smaller place.”

  Mr. Neater climbed up his front steps. “Just dump those boxes here on the porch, please,” he said.

  He moved a wicker chair to make
room.

  That was when Bradley noticed the scar shaped like a C on Mr. Neater’s pinkie finger.

  10

  Mystery Man

  Bradley tried not to stare at the finger. He thought about the picture in his pocket. Did the scar on Mr. Neater’s finger match the one in the photo? Bradley decided that they did match.

  “We found Douglas,” Bradley said.

  Mr. Neater looked at Bradley. Then he sighed and sat in the chair. “And how is my furry friend?” he asked.

  “We think he’s sick!” Lucy said.

  “We even took him to the vet!” Brian added.

  “Dr. Henry told us Douglas needs you, Mr. Neater,” Bradley said.

  “You’re the mystery man!” Nate said. “You left him in our classroom closet. You covered the cage with a towel that has a Z on it.”

  “Not a Z, son,” Mr. Neater said. “You must have turned it sideways. It’s an N, for Neater. How did you find me?”

  Bradley showed him the three pictures. “We found clues in these,” he said.

  “Ah, yes,” Mr. Neater said.

  “He misses you,” Brian said. “He won’t eat, and we’re afraid he’ll die!”

  “Douglas is at your house?” Mr. Neater asked.

  “We brought him home for the long weekend,” Bradley said. “But he won’t eat or drink or play. He just sits there looking sad.”

  “Oh dear, I hadn’t counted on that,” Mr. Neater said. “Show me where you live.”

  The kids led Mr. Neater back up Bridge Lane and across Main Street.

  They cut around the elementary school to Eagle Lane. From there they could see Bradley and Brian’s house on Farm Lane.

  The four kids burst through the kitchen door. The twins’ mother was sitting at the table. She had Douglas in her lap, trying to feed him water from a baby bottle.

  “Mom, this is Mr. Neater!” Bradley said. “He works at the school—”

  “And he’s Douglas’s owner!” Brian cut in. “We found him!”

  “Thank goodness!” the twins’ mom said. “I’ve been trying to get Douglas to eat or drink, but he refuses.”