Stink and the Great Guinea Pig Express (7 page)

“A mini amusement park!” said Sophie. There was a guinea pig Ferris wheel, a super slide, even a haunted house. Soon guinea pigs were tearing through tunnels, racing over rocks, hiding in hideouts.

   “See? They’re getting tired out already,” said Daisy.

Stink said good-bye to Astro. “You’ll be fine, boy,” he whispered around the lump in his throat. “Virginia Beach is a great place to live.”

“Oops, I almost forgot,” said Daisy. “I have something for you.” She handed them T-shirts that said “Guinea Pig Power.”

Webster, Sophie, and Stink thanked Daisy. Mrs. B. hugged her friend good-bye and thanked her, too.

“Time to go!” said Mrs. B. “We have a long drive home.” The kids scooped up their backpacks and climbed into the camper.

Stink stared at the empty cages. What fun was a Piggymobile without any piggies? Or Squeals on Wheels without any squeals? A camper without cavies was like an encyclopedia without the letter
S
.

When Stink got home, he gave his family a souvenir — a box of saltwater taffy. And he told Mom, Dad, and Judy every last little thing about his trip, everything from the Town of Ham to the giant bubble-bath fountain to Mt. Trashmore to the guinea pig amusement park.

Mom could not stop laughing over the coffee caper in the camper. Judy tried to laugh, but her teeth were stuck together from all the saltwater taffy.

“I wish I got Judy taffy a long time ago!” Stink joked. “That’s the longest I ever got to talk in my whole life without her butting in.”

As long as Stink’s family was laughing and telling stories, Stink missed Astro and the other guinea pigs a little bit less.

Mouse came into the kitchen, dragging Stink’s backpack along, a strap held between her teeth.

“Hey, Mouser!” said Stink. “Yes, that’s my backpack. Yes, I’m home now.”

   “I can’t believe it,” said Judy. “I can’t believe she actually came out from under my bed. She’s been moping there the whole time you were gone, like she was in a bad mood or something.”

“Did you miss me, girl?” asked Stink, tugging on his backpack. But Mouse would not give it up.

“Weird,” said Judy.

“Strange,” said Mom.

“I need my backpack, Mouse,” said Stink. “You’re going to have to give it back sooner or later.”

“Yeah, sooner,” said Judy. “Because we have school tomorrow and I bet you didn’t do your homework yet!”

“Stink, is that true?” asked Dad.

“Well . . . see . . .” said Stink.

Just then, Mouse made a funny sound. Everybody got quiet. The funny sound sounded like a purr, but the purr wasn’t coming from Mouse. No, the funny sound was coming from Stink’s backpack.

   There was only one thing Stink knew that purred like a cat but wasn’t a cat. He reached into his backpack and scooped out a tiny ball of fur, the cutest hair ball he’d ever seen.

   “Astro!” said Stink, nuzzling noses with his favorite fur ball. “I don’t get it — you’re supposed to be in Virginia Beach.” Stink sat on the floor, held Astro in his lap, and scratched him under the chin.

“Stink! You kept him and brought him back?” Judy asked.

“Stink, I thought we agreed —” Dad started.

“I didn’t keep him! Honest! I didn’t even know he was in there. He must have stowed away in my backpack for the whole ride home.”

“One cat plus one guinea pig equals
Trouble
with a capital
T,
” said Judy.

Just then, Mouse crawled onto Stink’s lap. “Mouse, no!” shouted Stink. But Mouse only licked Astro from top to bottom, just as if the guinea pig were a tiny kitten.

Dad looked at Mom. Mom looked at Dad. And before Stink could even ask, they both nodded. As in
Y-E-S,
he could keep Astro!

Ooh-la-la.
Stink was in pig heaven. Guinea pig heaven, that is.

Astro-nomical!