jar next to Dempsey, splattering pickles against the wall. Yikes!
Dempsey was first out of the door. Quickpaw made for the window, cutting himself as he fled. Rocky was peeled from the man’s face and thrown to the floor. The raccoon was winded. He looked at the shocked man while he got his breath back. Max was reaching for his gun. It’s now or never! Rocky was away, scooting towards the door. The terrified raccoon darted through the legs of Max’s equally terrified wife.
“Burglars?” wailed the lady.
“Worse,” growled her husband. “Thieving raccoons. And if there’re any left in here, they can expect some of this,” he said, pointing to the barrel of his gun. “Five shots left!”
Sunshine was out of the Wellington boot. He was flat against it, working out the odds of making it to the window. He eased one foot from behind the boot and a shot instantly rang out, ricocheting off the stone floor. “There’s one!” yelled Max. “Probably missing a foot by now.”
Not quite, thought Sunshine, his heart thumping. But that was too close for comfort. He heard the old man’s slippers shuffling towards him and he eased round the other side of the boot. “Come out, you varmint,” coaxed the shopkeeper. “I have a little something for you.”
Sunshine tried to think clearly. He picked up a tin of salmon and hurled it across the room. Max twirled and fired in the direction of the noise, blasting several jars of gherkins to smithereens. Sunshine sniffed the air. He could smell the gun and he also sniffed a chance to escape. He knew he didn’t have much time. Max was distracted, so this was his moment. The raccoon’s sharp eyes fixed on a barrel near the door. He wasn’t sure what “live bait” meant, but he liked the look of the picture. Wiggly worms! The raccoon crept across the floor as another shot pinged into the chair next to him. He dodged the wooden splinters and sprinted for all he was worth. Two more shots rang out, but he made it to the barrel, chest heaving. With a mighty shove he managed to push the barrel over. It hit the hard floor and the lid fell off, wriggling worms oozing into the room. The lady screamed and fainted. The floor was alive and the old man slipped. His slippers came off and his toes squelched. He tried to get to his feet, but slipped again, on to his hands and knees in a sea of worms.
Sunshine played it cool. The man’s gun was out of reach. The raccoon smoothed his whiskers and straightened his hat. He loved his trusty cowboy hat. He took a plastic bag and filled it with apples before sidestepping the worms and making his way out into the night.
He stood at the door and saluted the old man. Respect Max, he thought. You came close. But I think we can chalk this one up as another victory for the Hole-in-the-Tree gang.
His friends were waiting for him as Sunshine scampered up the redwood tree and hauled himself into the hole. He pulled the bag in and apples spewed out on to the floor. He high-fived Quickpaw, then Dempsey and Rocky. “Borrowed these off Max on the way out,” he said, crunching into a juicy apple.
“I thought you were a g-goner,” stammered Rocky. “He had a gun and everything.”
“He was no problem,” exaggerated Sunshine. “Remember, this raccoon can break into and out of anything,” he said, cracking his tiny knuckles. “You’ve heard of a cat burglar? Well, guys, meet the world’s best raccoon burglar!” he bragged, bowing to his friends. “Oh, and young Rocky-me-lad, I thought your hiding place was excellent, by the way.”
Rocky smiled with pride. “I collected these,” he said, holding out some gold and silver coins. “They were in the drawer. They sure are pretty. Humans use them to swap for stuff. So maybe next time we can swap instead of steal?”
Quickpaw Cassidy was the brains behind the outfit. He knew Max was on to them. In fact, the whole village was on to them! He looked around their den. It was carpeted, courtesy of bathmats from Maggie’s Gift Mart. There were four small cushions to sleep on. Quickpaw smiled as he remembered this particular raid. Off the sofa at number twenty-three. We had a nice drink of lemonade too. And some candles from there. Then there were the toothbrushes from the mini-market. Mmm, being chased from there by a man with a golf club was a bit hairy! And the mirror, he thought, his chest swelling with pride. Our biggest and best job to date. He glanced at his reflection, his shiny black eyes smiling. That took all four of us, working as a team. We risked seven years of bad luck getting it down from that first-floor window!
The law of the forest meant that no animal could survive on its own. The Hole-in-the-Tree gang worked well as a unit. They were still very young raccoons, but they were learning fast. Quickpaw was full of daring ideas and he knew the others looked to him for direction. And, as the biggest, he was always expected to be at the front if there was trouble. He’d recently stood up to Calamity Colin, the roughest, toughest and meanest raccoon in the forest. Luckily for Quickpaw Cassidy he could count on his friend The Sunshine Cub and together they’d fought off “The Calamity”. A shame about Sunshine’s tail, though, thought Quickpaw. Still, half a tail is better than none!
His tail aside, Sunshine was the coolest raccoon in the forest. He even used the fight with The Calamity to his advantage, exaggerating to make it sound like he’d fought off a pack of wild dogs. When everyone else went into panic mode, the gang could count on Sunshine to stay calm. And added to that, Sunshine could break into anything. He’d even broken into the police station and stolen a walkie-talkie that sat proudly next to the mirror. Sunshine liked the mirror, never missing an opportunity to spruce up his whiskers and straighten his cowboy hat. Sometimes he’d press the walkie-talkie button and jabber away in Raccoon to the police. From the tone of their reply, he knew it annoyed them. But it was great fun!
Rocky was the worrier, always predicting bad weather, predators and famine. He was skinny and nervous and would flinch at the slightest noise, but was good to have in the gang because he nagged the others until things got done. It was Rocky who’d insisted they build their den high enough to avoid bears. It was Rocky who insisted on a small store of food “for a rainy day” and it was Rocky who’d made sure they didn’t steal honey from the killer bees.
In fact, Rocky was the perfect antidote to Dempsey, who saw the bright side of everything and the good in everyone. Dempsey was also a bit of a dreamer. He loved to sit and watch Max’s TV through the window and he dreamed of a new life in the city. His stash of City Life magazines was stacked neatly in one corner of the den and he’d plastered the walls with pictures of skyscrapers. So when Dempsey said they should move to the city and get an apartment with a TV and Xbox, it was important to have Rocky around. He was the sensible one. “We’re raccoons,” he would say. “We live in the forest. In trees! It’s what raccoons have always done and what they always will do! And we should be cautious.”
Like all good leaders, Quickpaw was a good listener. Maybe Rocky had a point? Quickpaw knew there was a fine line between being cautious and being daring. He also knew there was a fine line between being well fed and starving. While their tummies were full, courtesy of Max’s General Store, he knew that winter was coming and they needed to put on weight before food became scarce. Quickpaw Cassidy cut through the excited chatter. “We need to do one more big job,” he said to his gang. “Something that will get us enough food to see us through the winter.”
“B-B-But—” began Rocky.
“No buts,” snapped Quickpaw, waving his paws for calm. “You see this,” he said, jabbing at his tummy. “It’s not fat enough to keep me going in the winter. Have you guys felt
