The True Blue Scouts of Sugar Man Swamp by Kathi Appelt Page A

Villa.” Nope.
    All they knew was that they would have to head toward the deepest, darkest part of the swamp, where the trees blocked out all the light, where the underbrush was so thick that even noises couldn’t penetrate the thick vines and leaves.
    â€œBrrr . . .” Bingo shivered just thinking about it. He looked out at the driving rain. J’miah shivered too.
    And even though it goes against the grain for raccoons to move about in daylight, they decided to wait for the morning, when hopefully the rain would stop and they could use the sun’s rays to help them find the Sugar Man’s deep, dark lair.
    To keep himself busy, J’miah decided to resume Mission Clean-Up Headquarters. Raccoons in general are similar to pack rats. They collect all kinds of odd items, and over the years, the backseat had become something of a pit. It bothered J’miah. He liked for things to be tidy and neat. Especially when he was nervous. Like now.
    All at once, Mission Clean-Up Headquarters turned into a disinfecting frenzy. First, J’miah wiped down the insides of all the windows with some fresh leaves. He rubbed and rubbed until each window was sparkly. Of course, he couldn’t see through them because the outsidewas pretty much covered with vines, but at least he could see the vines better.
    Next, he used a small branch as a broom to sweep off the old leather seats. It was surprising how much clutter had accumulated back there over the years.
    Bingo did his best to stay out of his brother’s way. He decided to do some chin-ups from the rearview mirror so as not to get swept up with the debris. J’miah ignored him and kept sweeping. Soon he had a whole collection of rubbish piled up on the floorboard behind the passenger’s side. It was like a small landfill between the seats.
    Bingo clung to the rearview mirror. He decided then to reverse himself and hang upside down. It gave him a different perspective on the inside of the DeSoto, not to mention a unique view of his brother. Watching J’miah in all of his industriousness made Bingo wonder if he shouldn’t feel just a tad bit guilty for hanging out and not joining J’miah in the cleanup? Then again . . . nah . . . That wonder fleeted.
    J’miah continued to sweep, pausing every now and then to adjust his invisible thinking cap. It was during one of these cap adjustment breaks that he decided that he simply couldn’t live with that landfill of rubbish. So he made a declaration. “We’re going to shove this stuff through the entryway.”
    â€œHuh?” said Bingo, still hanging upside down.
    â€œYep,” replied J’miah. The plan was to cram the garbage underneath the seat so that it could then be shoved through the door. The instructions were perfectly clear.
    So he set his broom down and began to shove . . . and shove . . . and shove. But the landfill did not move.
    Bingo continued to do his bat impersonation.
    J’miah shoved some more. The pile of rubbish shifted, but it did not move.
    â€œThere must be a blockage,” said J’miah. And seeing that Bingo was no help, J’miah climbed over the seat and crawled down to the floorboard and peered underneath. Sure enough, there was something large and square. He reached for it with his nimble paws. It was cool and smooth to the touch. He grabbed it by the corner and tugged, but it wouldn’t move. Whatever the large square thing was, it was wedged tight.
    J’miah pulled on it again, but there was no getting it to move. He shoved his head under the seat to get a closer look. First he examined the front of it. He noticed that there was a handle. He grabbed hold of it, but no matter how hard he pulled, the blockage stayed put. Then he moved to the right side of it. Nothing.
    By now Bingo was feeling the effects of being upside down, so he let go and dropped to the floorboard and