Our Friend Hedgehog Read online

  THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Lauren Castillo

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Visit us on the Web! rhcbooks.com

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  Trade ISBN 9781524766719

  Ebook ISBN 9781524766733

  The illustrations in this book were created using pen, pencils, watercolor, and Photoshop.

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

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  For every friend (and furry friend) I have had, and will have, in this lifetime: Thank you for being a part of my story.

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  The Cast

  Introduction

  At First

  Alone

  Mole

  Owl

  Beaver

  Hen and Chicks

  Annika Mae Flores

  The Notebook

  Us (the Beginning)

  About the Author

  Sometimes you make a friend and it feels like you have known that friend your entire life. Hedgehog, Mutty, Mole, Owl, Beaver, Hen and Chicks, and me, Annika Mae.

  You might think it has always been this way, but it has not.

  There was a series of events that brought us all together.

  This is our friendship story.

  This is the story of us.

  Between the great forests, in the center of the river, on a teeny-tiny island, lived two dear friends: Hedgehog and Mutty.

  Just the two of them, and no one else.

  They spent all their days together.

  Playing.

  Imagining.

  Dreaming.

  There were moments when the island felt lonely and Hedgehog wished for more.

  But most of the time, she was just happy to be with her friend.

  Life was good.

  That was, until the night of the Terrible Storm. A storm that brought the meanest wind Hedgehog had ever known.

  It whistled.

  It huffed.

  It swooped down

  and carried her friend away.

  Hedgehog was all alone. She called out for Mutty, again and again, but only the mean wind answered.

  Hedgehog sat and wept. And wept. And wept some more. But crying would not bring Mutty back. She knew what she needed to do.

  Hedgehog stood up. She stared long and hard at her reflection in the murky river water.

  She took a deep breath, jumped in, and set off on a journey to find her dear friend.

  The river was rough, but luckily Hedgehog was a good swimmer. She could swim all the strokes, including the backstroke (which was her favorite).

  Hedgehog made it safely to the mainland, where the forest began. She had watched the wind carry Mutty in this direction, and she hoped she would find him here, safe among the trees.

  Hedgehog had seen the forest from her island, but it was even greater and much more frightening now that she was standing in it. An army of trees blew and swayed, and cast their scary shadows over her. But she would not show her fear.

  Hedgehog stood up tall and marched along, calling Mutty’s name whenever she heard a sound. She marched and marched, called and called again. Not a Mutty in sight. In this big, foreign place, Hedgehog felt smaller than ever before.

  She missed her tiny island, but she had to keep going. She searched under ferns and in clusters of mushrooms. Then she climbed onto a stump to get a better view.

  Most things in the forest reminded Hedgehog of her friend, but a passing butterfly made her saddest of all.

  It was beginning to get dark, and still there was no sign of Mutty. Hedgehog scouted out a safe place to rest until she could continue her search in the morning.

  She had just found a nice, cozy pile of leaves, when

  down,

  down,

  down

  into a hole she plunged!

  Splash!

  Hedgehog landed in a big puddle of muck. When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realized she was not alone.

  “Good heavens!” shrieked a voice.

  A stranger! Hedgehog gasped and shot up out of the mud. She was standing face to face with the most wiggly creature she had ever seen.

  “Wh-who are you?”

  “Oh! Bonjour, dearie,” said the voice. “Hello there. My name is Mole. Welcome to my home.”

  Mole wiggled closer to Hedgehog.

  “Are you okay? Are you lost?”

  Hedgehog tried to respond, but Mole’s bright apron captured her attention. The stripy pattern blurred in Hedgehog’s teary eyes, and she collapsed into a puddle of sadness. She was too sad to even speak.

  “There, there, my dearie. It will be okay.”

  Hedgehog looked up at Mole. “I—I lost my best friend,” she whimpered.

  “I am sorry.” Mole patted Hedgehog on the back. “I will help you find your friend.” Mole brought Hedgehog a cup of horchata, her favorite milky drink, and the two sat side by side in silence.

  After a while, Hedgehog was ready to tell Mole what had happened to poor Mutty. About the whistling wind and her long, hard journey traveling across the river and through the trees.

  “I have never, ever been without Mutty, and he has never been without me,” Hedgehog explained. “We need each other.”

  Mole was a very good listener. She nodded in all the right places and rested a comforting paw on Hedgehog’s quills. It felt good to have someone to talk to in this big, scary forest.

  “Thank you, Mole,” Hedgehog sighed. “I am glad I fell into your home.”

  “I’m glad you stopped by,” said Mole. “I love visitors. I’m only sorry my home is such a mess. It’s more like a rat’s nest than a mole’s hole ever since the storm. I was just tidying up when you arrived.”

  Mole wiggled backward, knocking over an acorn cap that was collecting tiny drips of water from the ceiling.

  “Here, let me help you,” offered Hedgehog.

  The two sopped up the puddles together, and soon Mole’s home was as good as new.

  “I have come up with a plan, dearie,” announced Mole.

  “I will take you to Owl at Lookout Point. Owl has sharp eyes, and he can help us find your friend. We should travel by tunnel. It’s the safest route.”

  Hedgehog was nervous about traveling in a tunnel. But she trusted her new friend. “Lead the way, Mole.” And Hedgehog followed wiggly Mole through the tunnel toward the other side of the forest.

  “You are brave to travel so far from home!” Hedgehog shouted up to Mole.

  “Oh, I love to travel!” said Mole. “But sometimes it’s lonely underground. It is very nice to have company.”

  Hedgehog still mis
sed poor Mutty, but this adventure with Mole brought her a bit of cheer. “It is nice to have company,” she agreed.

  When Mole and Hedgehog arrived at Lookout Point, it was nearly daybreak. The tired pair wiggled out of Mole’s tunnel and right into a patch of fog. But the fog was no match for Owl’s sharp eyes.

  “Hooty hoot, who goes there?” called Owl. Owl never missed a trick.

  “Guten Tag, Owl! Good day,” said Mole. “This is my new friend, Hedgehog. She needs our help.”

  “Help?” Owl perked up. “What kind of help?”

  “I lost my best friend, in the…” Hedgehog trailed off, beginning to weep again.

  “Foggy weather is terrible for hide-and-seek, my little hoglet.”

  Mole spoke up for Hedgehog. “We are not playing hide-and-seek, Owl. We are talking about a friend in peril.”

  “Hmm, peril?” Owl pondered. “You mean very serious and immediate danger. Well, I do happen to have fast wings and excellent eyes. Maybe I can help! Which way did your friend go?”

  “I—I don’t know,” Hedgehog sobbed.

  Mole put her arm around Hedgehog and told Owl all about what had happened to Mutty.

  “What does your friend look like?” asked Owl. He pulled out a pen and notebook, ready to take notes.

  “I can draw him,” said Hedgehog.

  Hedgehog borrowed Owl’s pen and notebook. Most of the pages were full of cheerful-looking pictures and words, but she found a blank page toward the back and carefully sketched a portrait of Mutty. Hedgehog liked to draw in the sand on her island, so she was pretty good at it.

  “This drawing is in black, but he wears red and white and gray and orange,” Hedgehog explained.

  “Well, look at that,” said Owl as he examined the drawing. “Finding him will be a true challenge in this weather. But I’m up for it!”

  “Oh, thank you,” said Hedgehog. “Thank you, Owl.”

  “Let me gather my ideas,” said Owl. And he flew into the foggy sky, making circles around Lookout Point and humming an idea-gathering tune.

  “I’ve got it!” Owl exclaimed. “We will follow the stream to the beaver dam. All kinds of things get trapped in that dam. Maybe the storm has taken your friend there.”

  “Good idea, Owl!” cheered Mole.

  “I know,” said Owl, beginning to fly upstream. “I’ll meet you two at the beaver dam….”

  Mole and Hedgehog jumped into the tunnel and sped after him, practically flying underground.

  By the time Mole and Hedgehog emerged from the tunnel, the fog was beginning to clear. Owl was telling Beaver about their quest to find Mutty. Beaver was busy rebuilding his dam, though, and he didn’t seem very interested.

  “Wretched storm ruined my masterpiece,” Beaver grumbled.

  “Beaver!” cried Owl. “I am trying to show you something!” He waved the notebook in Beaver’s face. “Have you seen this fella? Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary that might help us find him?”

  “Nope, nope,” said Beaver as he reached for a piece of red fabric.

  “Mutty!” shrieked Hedgehog.

  “Where?!” Owl and Mole jumped.

  “It’s Mutty’s scarf!” Hedgehog pointed at the red scarf, which Beaver was now tying neatly about his neck.

  “Huh? Nope, nope!” Beaver waved them off. “This is my scarf. I found it, and now it’s mine!”

  “Beaver!” cried Owl. “You just said you hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary!”

  “Well, I forgot,” huffed Beaver. “Now leave me alone.”

  “We are not going anywhere without that scarf!” screeched Owl.

  “Well, I’m not taking it off,” Beaver grumbled. “My neck is cold…. And plus, look how dapper I am.” He fluffed up his fur and adjusted the scarf just so.

  Owl got right in Beaver’s face. “You have two choices, Beaver. Either give us that scarf or come help us.”

  Beaver snorted. “I don’t have to do either of those things.”

  Owl narrowed his eyes.

  “I will come along…but only ’cause I feel like it. Not ’cause you said,” Beaver added quickly.

  “Thank you, Beaver,” said Hedgehog. “And you do look dapper in Mutty’s scarf.”

  Beaver looked away, a blush rising to his chubby cheeks. “Like I said.”

  “Dapper.” Owl looked Beaver up and down. “Neat and trim in appearance.”

  “Now, where did you find the scarf?” asked Hedgehog.

  “Over at the marsh, near Hen’s house, when I was—”

  “Then that’s where we’ll go next,” Owl interrupted. “Let’s get moving!”

  Beaver examined the ground. “It’s too muddy to walk. We’ll have to take my raft.”

  Hedgehog looked at Mole, who was wiggling more than usual.

  “It’s okay, Mole. Hold my paw.”

  “But I’m afraid of the water,” Mole whispered. “Can’t we take the tunnel?”

  “If you fall in, I promise to save you. I’m a good swimmer.”

  And the whole crew piled onto Beaver’s raft.

  The water was still very choppy from the storm, and the raft rocked this way and that.

  Poor Mole clung to the boards, wiggling with fear.

  “Holy Toledo!” she cried. “Of all my voyages, this one might be the scariest yet!”

  “Slow down, Beaver,” Hedgehog pleaded. “Not everyone can swim!”

  At that moment, Beaver steered right into a rock, knocking Mole and Hedgehog into the stream! The current whipped them about, but Hedgehog was able to keep Mole’s snout above water.

  Beaver held out his paddle. “Grab on!” he called. They did as they were told, and Beaver pulled them aboard.

  “You’d better be more careful, Beaver!” Owl screeched.

  “Everyone is back on the raft, aren’t they?” said Beaver.

  For the rest of the ride, Hedgehog held on to poor shivery Mole. This time patting her on the back.

  Beaver rowed up to the edge of the marsh and helped his passengers out, one by one.

  “I found the red scarf right there.” Beaver pointed.

  The marsh was littered with all kinds of trash that the wind had blown in during the Terrible Storm. There were bottles and cans, a pizza box with some uneaten crust, a rotten apple core, some playing cards, and plenty of other curious objects.

  “Everyone spread out, and we’ll search the wetland for Hedgehog’s friend,” called Owl.

  The crew did as Owl said. They looked under branches, in bushes, around the tall marsh grass.

  They found a snapping turtle,

  three slimy snails,

  and a school of small fish,

  but no Mutty.

  “Peep! Peep! Peep!” Two peeping chicks bounced out of the brush and caught Hedgehog by surprise.

  Chick One bounced off Beaver’s tail. Chick Two followed right behind.

  “Ow!” Beaver grunted.

  “¡Hola! Hello, lively little Chicks,” Mole said with a smile.

  “Chicks!” called Owl. “Chicks, where is your mom? We have a very important matter to discuss with her.”

  “Peep!” Chick Two bounced off Chick One. “Peep, peep!” Chick One bounced off Chick Two. And the two leap-chicked right back into the brush.

  “For peep’s sake!” groaned Beaver.

  “Let’s follow them,” said Mole. “I’m sure Hen is close by.”

  They followed the peeps through the brush. On the other side they found Hen, pecking through the storm trash.

  “Salaam, Hen,” called Mole.

  “Oh, hello, Mole! Hello, Beaver and Owl!” Hen looked at Hedgehog. “And um…hello, pointy creature I don’t know. I’m out collecting storm treasure. Would you look at this.” Hen balanced a piece of treasure on her head. “A crown
!”

  “Nope, nope. That’s a bottle top,” said Beaver.

  Hen ignored him. “And how about this one? Pirate’s booty! And new art for the chicks’ room!”

  Hedgehog’s eyes widened. It was a picture of a house. But in front of the house was a familiar face.

  “Mutty!” she shrieked.

  “What is it this time?” asked Owl.

  “Th-the picture!” Hedgehog stuttered. “Mutty is in the picture.”

  “Our new friend Hedgehog lost her old friend Mutty,” Mole explained to Hen, who was looking confused.

  “But how did your friend get in my art?” asked Hen.

  “It’s a photograph,” Owl said. “A picture made using a camera.”

  “Who took the picture?” asked Hedgehog.

  “I think that’s what we’re all wondering!” Owl said.

  “Well, I don’t know who took the picture…but I do know this house.” Hen pointed.

  “You—you do?” Hedgehog perked up.