The Skunk that Stunk

Mel wrote this story four years ago, and continues to work on it when he has time (it's his favorite). Some excerpts appear below. If you have any suggestions, ideas on how it might be published, please e-mail Mel.

Mel Rosenberg

"Since it had been such a regular day, Bartholemew had no idea that his life was about to change the moment he got home from school. On the kitchen table, next to his glass of milk and gingerbread man, was a strange brown envelope. It was addressed to Bartholemew Wilber Crouch III Junior. Just as he was about to open it, his mother walked into the kitchen...

"Oh, Bartholemew, the postman came by with this letter this morning, and I have been so excited. We haven't had any mail in soooooo long, you know. It was addressed to you so of course I didn't look at it, even through a candle, well, maybe just a little you know, but the envelope was too dark, I am sooooooo curious. Please open it right away. " Bartholemew was curious too, so he opened it quickly, taking care not to damage the delicate letter inside...

…Before you could say "Jack Robinson" (whoever he was), Bartholemew was aboard the bus for New York. As the bus pulled away, his proud parents dried their eyes and stood there until the bus had become a tiny speck on the horizon. Bartholemew looked back through his own tears, until he could no longer make out his family. "Have I made a big mistake?" he thought. He was proud that he had not cried when saying goodbye, but now, alone on the bus, he could not help sprouting a few tears, which dripped down his face and onto the seat of the bus.

…The Munchin School was not easy to get used to, as it had a principal who had principles. Both the dormitory building and the school next door were kept extremely clean as cleanliness was one of the principal’s principles. Bartholemew had no trouble keeping his bed made and cupboards organized. Hog the pig, however, was quite careless and threw everything everywhere. Ed tried his best to keep clean, but kept bringing mud in on his hooves whenever it rained. And Billy the kid would tear his sheets at night. Every morning, the dormitory rooms and the yard were inspected. If a pupil was caught throwing a candy wrapper on the floor, the wrapper was taped to his shirt for an entire week. If Mr. Stricked caught someone trying to stick chewing gum under a seat or table, the principal would stick the chewing gum to the pupil's nose...

…The principal's other principle was good manners. The pupils practiced good manners whenever the teachers or principal were around. "Good morning, teacher", they would squeal in unison. However, when left on their own, most of the pupils preferred practicing bad manners. Since they were so much better at bad manners, behaving badly required much less practice. One of their favorite bad manners was making fun of pupils who were different, and Bartholemew was definitely different.

…As his father had informed him, there were few skunks in Europe. Bartholemew was not only the only skunk in his class, but the only skunk in his whole school. And although the American pupils had seen skunks before, no one else at the School had ever seen a skunk. They would take long stares at the strange new pupil. This of course made Bartholemew feel uncomfortable, but worse was yet to come...

…One day, after school, Bartholemew took the bus up into the hills to Grasse, the ancient European center of perfume making. "Can you make me a perfume that will make me smell better, so the pigs won't make fun of me?", he asked Dirk, the perfume man. Dirk said, "I have been in the perfume business for many years, and I have made hundreds of perfumes and colognes, but I have never made one for a skunk. I will give it a try. Come back next week..."

…The wolves were drawing closer every second. Bartholemew knew what he had to do. The wolves were so close that Bartholemew could see their eyes and their sharp teeth. At last, he had no choice.

And then it happened. Bartholemew suddenly let out a jet of the worst smelling skunk smell that you could possibly imagine. It paralyzed the wolves. They rolled over and moaned. The smell was so bad that all the trees in the forest immediately lost their autumn leaves. Birds dropped from the sky. Rabbits hid in the ground. The smell was so bad that the people in Cannes ran into their houses, closed the windows and pinched their noses. The wolves ran away as fast as they could. Their appetite was gone. How could they even dream of making pigs of themselves with that terrible smell in the air?..

…And so, the following June, when finishing school was finished, Bartholemew was quite happy to fly back to his Mother and Father and sister in New Jersey. He had become very polite and courteous. His family noticed that he had begun to smell like himself again. He had learned languages and many subjects in the classroom and even more outside the classroom. He told his family many stories, in fact all the stories except one...