I’m putting my iPod back in my pocket when Libby grabs my arm and just about knocks it right out of my hand. “Would you watch it?” I snap.
“Drew, what is that?”
“What is what?”
I glance up. There’s a small, battered cardboard box sitting in the ditch on the side of the road, about ten feet ahead of us. “It’s a box. In the ditch.”
“No, can’t you hear that sound?”
I pull out my earbuds. At first all I can hear is a squirrel chattering in the woods beside us and a car roaring by on Arbutus Ridge Road behind us. Then I hear it: There’s a sort of a scrabbling, scratching sound coming from inside the box, interrupted now and again by a loud THUMP!
“I’m scared.” Libby clutches my arm.
“Oh, Libby. Don’t be such a baby. It’s probably just a rat.” Mom and Dad are always complaining about the rats getting into our garbage. Last summer Dad even found a giant rats’ nest in his tool shed. He had to call the exterminator to get rid of them. “Come on.” I peel Libby’s fingers from my arm and start walking again.
She doesn’t budge.
“Come on,” I say.
“I don’t like rats.” She shivers. “Their tails are creepy.”
“Libby, come on.” I grab for her arm.
“No!” She swats my hand away. “You have to chase it away. I won’t move until it’s gone. Make it go away, Drew.”
“It’s just a stupid rat.”
Libby crosses her arms.
It’s pretty clear Libby isn’t going anywhere until the big scary rat inside the box is gone. I throw my hands up. “Fine!”
Grabbing a stick from the side of the road, I eye the box. It’s just a plain old brown cardboard box, the flaps folded closed on the top. The scrabbling sound has stopped. Maybe Libby’s shrieking has scared whatever it is away. I take a few steps towards it. Then another. And another. Just as I’m reaching out with the stick to pry open one of the flaps . . . THUMP!
I yelp and jump back.
“Shut up!” I snap. “Chicken.”
Libby sticks out her tongue at me. “You’re the chicken.”
Whatever’s inside is much bigger than a rat. My stomach tightens. Now I’m not sure I want to see what’s in the box. I glance at Libby. She’ll never let me live it down if I wuss out now. I take a deep breath. Then I tear the flaps open, kick the box over, and jump back—far enough back, I hope, to be out of the reach of Godzilla-sized rat teeth.
Libby gasps. “A bunny!”
Crouching on the ground next to the overturned box is a small, caramel-coloured rabbit with huge ears.
About the Book
You can’t bring a rabbit camping. That’s what eleven-year-old Drew Montgomery’s grandparents say when his annoying little sister wants to bring their pet rabbit, Tiny, along on the trip. And Drew agrees. It’s bad enough that he will miss the release of the coolest video game of the year while he’s stuck in a cramped travel trailer for a week with his grandparents and sister. But Tiny is certain to cause trouble. Plus there are bears and eagles in the woods. And what if Tiny gets lost?
But Libby smuggles the rabbit into the trailer anyway. Now Drew’s got to keep Tiny out of trouble. And that’s not easy to do with Libby always letting him out of the cage and a pair of rabbit-hating bullies ready to let their dog chomp him if he gets too close.
Top it off with never-ending rain, bloodthirsty mosquitos, a broken toilet, stinky outhouses, angry squirrels, terrible food, and an eye-gougingly boring “schedule of activities.” Drew is about ready to take the rabbit and hitchhike home before disaster really strikes.