“Better yet, there’s an elevator,” Chief Burke said. “We installed it to make sure the less spry members of the choir could save their breath for singing.”

“I’m perfectly able to climb a few steps,” Grandfather began.

“And so am I,” Chief Burke replied. “But since it doesn’t look as if we’ll be finished here any time soon, I think we should save our energy. Follow me.”

He set off at a brisk pace toward the back of the church and to my relief, Grandfather followed.

The elevator was so small it could only fit two people at a time, so the fire chief and I waited below while Chief Burke and Grandfather went up. As soon as the elevator door closed, Chief Featherstone beckoned to the firefighter who had been trailing us. The firefighter handed me something. Another insectoid helmet.

“In case you change your mind when we get up there,” Chief Featherstone said.

“I already have.” With his help, I donned the helmet. The firefighter strapped on the attached oxygen tank and I sucked greedily at air that was gloriously free of skunk odor.

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’m having another brought up,” he said. “Maybe we can shove your grandfather into it before he pukes.”

The elevator returned and we rode up in anxious silence. My heart was beating a little fast when the door opened to reveal ground zero of the skunk smell.

Chapter 4

Luckily we peered out before exiting. The skunk cage—a huge thing, six feet square and nearly as tall—was perilously close to the elevator door. Easy to see how Mr. Dandridge had stumbled into it. Several of the skunks turned when the elevator door opened and were hissing at us. One of them appeared to be pounding his front feet on the ground. Several others were doing the same thing in the other direction, where Grandfather and Chief Burke were. Apparently they’d managed to make their way to the other side of the choir loft, where there was room to stand a lot farther from the cage.

“How far can those things spray?” I called over to Grandfather.

“Maybe twenty-five or thirty feet,” he said. “But they’re only accurate to about ten feet.”

Since the cage was only about twelve or fifteen feet from the open elevator door, I didn’t find that reassuring.

“Come out of the elevator very slowly,” Grandfather said. “And hug the wall all the way to the back of the loft. Then you can work your way across to here. And if one of them turns around and lifts his tail really high, run like hell.”

Chief Featherstone and I looked at each other.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” I said.