One Month Later
Zoe strolled into the kitchen. "Hey, girlfriend," she called with a smile.
Callie looked up and grinned. "Hey, Zoe." Callie never called Zoe "Mom." It didn't seem right, even though Zoe was her mom.
She did a backflip off the stove and landed on the rack above the cupboards. She grabbed the handle and flipped herself up on top of it. She grasped the handle with one hand and used her leg to push off on the cupboard so that the door swung open. She dangled from the handle for a moment and then swung back and forth on it like a trapeze artist before letting go and soaring through the air, managing a double front flip into the cupboard before hitting the bottom of the cupboard, somersaulting twice, and springing to her feet next to the plates.
Zoe applauded Callie, grinning. Callie grinned back, but it was a somewhat nervous grin as she kicked two plates down to the counter below.
"You are going to knock their socks off," Zoe told her knowingly. Callie managed another nervous smile. She hopped down, grabbed the enormous spatula in her tiny paws, and began stirring the bacon around on the skillet.
"I think that your memories might subconsciously still be there," Zoe remarked as she looked at the breakfast that was cooking. "You always loved bacon and eggs."
Callie sighed quietly. Zoe knew she was sad. Zoe hurried to pull the chipmunk into a hug. "Listen," she said gently. "You are always going to be myCallie. And you know everything about yourself, even if you can't remember all of it. You are so talented and wonderful, and that snake didn't change any of that."
Callie nodded.
"And hey," Zoe continued in a lighter tone, trying to bring the mood up some, "why didn't you wake me up? I should be making breakfast for YOU, not the other way around. It's your big day, after all."
Callie grinned. "I thought that you might need a break, and you were already sleeping, and I was already up, so…" She shrugged as she shoved the spatula under the eggs and flipped them. Then she heard a clicking noise. "Oh!" She carefully adjusted the plates ever so slightly, and then she ran over to the toaster. She clambered onto the lever that was already pushed down. After a second, it popped up, launching both Callie and the toast into the air. Callie did a triple front flip in midair and then twisted herself out straight, holding her arms out and soaring through the air like she was doing a swan dive. She stretched her paws out and grabbed two pieces of toast in one hand and the other two in her other hand. Then she did a midair twist, a backflip, and landed perfectly on the butter dish.
Zoe laughed so hard she had to sit down. "You always do this before a performance," she teased. "Don't wear yourself out, Callie."
"This is warming up, not wearing out," Callie replied with dignity as she popped open the butter and buttered the toast. "Besides, Zoe, this is a different performance than the others. This is important! I could become a superstar, Zoe. I could become international! World famous!"
"You'll do fine, Callie," Zoe assured her. She grinned as she popped the bacon, eggs, and toast onto the plates. Callie poured the orange juice with some difficulty because of her small arms, but she managed to do it without spilling.
Zoe grinned and clinked glasses with her, and they sat down to eat.
"Where's Simon?' Brittany asked as she entered the classroom.
"Same place he always is, I'll wager," Alvin sighed, flopping down on the desk next to her. He covered his eyes and muttered, "This is all my fault."
Brittany was so surprised that she dropped her books. "Alvin!" she cried.
"If I hadn't been so stupid on the ship…" Alvin dropped his head onto his paws. "We wouldn't be in this mess."
"Alvin—," Brittany started.
He held back a sob as he dropped from his chair and scampered out of the room. Brittany sighed.
"I don't think he's going to be back, Miss Tutweiler," she told the teacher sadly, approaching her desk.
Miss Tutweiler looked up with a sympathetic expression. "I understand, Brittany. Do you want to be excused, too?"
"No, I'll stay." Brittany scampered back to her desk. She usually shared it with Alvin, but it looked like she was going to have it herself today. Behind her, Eleanor and Theodore were sadly stacking up their books on their desk.
Theodore suddenly straightened up. "I gotta fix this," he muttered. "Ellie, come on. We're going to solve this problem once and for all." He stood up. "Miss Tutweiler, we'll be right back," he called firmly. Then he grabbed Ellie's paw and jumped off the desk. Confused, she followed him.
Brittany watched him go and sighed, turning to face the front again. "Looks like I'll be the only chipmunk in class today," she mumbled, pulling out her geography folder.
Theodore stopped in front of the door to their cabin. The boys had a cabin and the girls had another. "They're going to be wallowing in here," Theodore said with a steely glint in his eye.
"I'll take care of Simon," Eleanor said softly, putting a paw on his shoulder. Then they both scampered into the room.
They were both on opposite sides of the room. Simon hadn't even reacted when Alvin came in and flopped on the bed in tears. Simon just stared at the ceiling of the cabin like he had ever since they had moved in. He stopped only to eat and go to the bathroom as needed, and then he was right back on the bed. He hadn't even bathed in two weeks, as far as Eleanor remembered.
Simon couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. It was like Jeanette had torn half of him away when she had gone as well. He couldn't function properly without his other half. He noticed her constantly when she was around—her smile, her laugh, her blush, her beautiful purple eyes. But she was even more ostentatious when she was missing. It hurt so badly that it was a constant ache, not having her by his side. He had been able to walk and move and work on the raft, when he'd had hope that they were going to rescue her. Now they couldn't even begin to rescue her for a year. And at that point, anything could have happened. He hadn't eaten in a while, but he couldn't muster the will to get up and eat something. He was tired, thirsty, hungry, dirty…and he didn't care about any of it.
He stared dully at the ceiling, not seeing anything.
"Simon Seville."
A sharp, feminine voice rang out from the foot of his bed. He barely mustered the energy to look up at Eleanor. Theodore, Alvin, and Brittany had all tried coaxing and persuading him, but Eleanor hadn't tried before. This was a first. He was too lost in his loss to care.
"You need to knock it off right this minute, Simon," Eleanor scolded, her hands on her hips.
Now Simon was feeling a little surprised. He looked up to stare at her.
She must have seen his expression, because she folded her hands. "We've tried asking nicely and we've tried persuasion. It's not working. Miss Nice Chipmunk is gone. Jeanette is not here, but I know what she would say if she were, so I am going to say it for her." She clenched her paws. "You need to stop moping around. You have to get up and get on with your life."
Simon was staring at her now.
"We all miss Jeanette, Simon. This is hard for all of us. But we're not moping around in our beds for a month. We're doing things. We're moving. We're making an effort, and you have to start making an effort, too. You have to make an effort for her, Simon. She wouldn't want you to just wallow around like this. Jeanette would want you to keep living. You can't just stop living because you miss her, Simon. We all miss her. And there are things that we can do to help. Even here on the ship. So get your furry butt off the bed and start living again."
Simon's eyes were wide with surprise.
"Simon, she loves you." Eleanor's voice was soft and earnest now. "She needs you. And you can help her. Don't you want to help her?"
Simon cleared his throat. "Yes," he said quietly. "But we're on the ship, Ellie. We can't help—,"
"If you VALUE my SANITY, you will not say that we can't help her," Eleanor snapped, putting her hands back on her hips. "We can watch for her. We can make a plan. We can try to contact her. But we need your help. She needs your help. So are you coming or what?"
Simon stared at the blanket for a long, long time. Finally, he looked back at Eleanor. There was a spark, a flame that was in his eyes that had been missing for a long, long time.
"Yes," he said, quietly but firmly. "I'm coming."
"That's the Simon that I know," Eleanor said with a smile. "Now, for heaven's sakes, take a shower, change your clothes, get something to eat, and then brush your teeth. Then you're going to take a long nap—good grief, Simon, have you been too tired to SLEEP?" Eleanor critically examined the dark circles underneath her brother's eyes. She shook her head and continued. "Then get your books together—Miss Tutweiler sent you your books—, because we're going to school. And after school is out, we are going to come back here and make a plan. Because I'm not letting Jeanette go without a fight! Are you?"
"No!" Simon yelled. He launched himself off the bed and trotted into the bathroom, where he shut the door and Eleanor heard running water.
She smiled to herself and hopped off the bed to see how Theodore was faring.
Simon was back.