"Everybody's got problems," Gram would say.
My problems were just the reverse. I had a great mom, but no dad. Danny and I had a lot in common.
I peddled faster as a crazy idea started to come into my head. Mr. Davis and Mom. Wouldn't it be super if the two of them got to know each other? They would fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after. I would have a great dad, and Danny would have a great mom. It seemed like the perfect solution.
I pictured them painting together for the rest of their days, while Danny and I did puzzles and ate cookies together. Who needed to write an advertisement when the perfect man lived right next door? I was so excited, I almost plowed my bike into a fire hydrant. I slowed down after that.
I put the bike away as kids started arriving home from school. I hate to admit it, but I really wanted to avoid Milton. I climbed up onto the porch, and curled up in the swing, waiting for Mom to come home.
Next door, Danny and Mr. Davis had finished playing ball. Now they were cleaning out the van. I heard the vacuum, then saw Mr. Davis disappear into the van, all except his feet. He was cleaning under the seats. Danny was inside helping.
At his usual time, the mailman was walking slowly down the street. We are one of the last houses on his route, so we get our mail late, at the end of the day.
"Hi, Mr. Nichols," I said, watching as he plopped a wad of mail into our box.
"Hi! Yourself! Ms. Robbins!" he said with a big smile as he passed. He stuck a big wad of mail into the Davis mailbox, too.
The Davis family, both with their heads deep in the van, didn't see him.
How was I going to get Mom and Mr. Davis to meet each other? I was giving the idea some deep thought, when my mom's car pulled up to the curb.
My mom does things in an organized manner. When she gets home from work, she takes her brief case out of the car, takes the mail out of the mailbox, puts all these things on the dining room table, and then disappears upstairs to get out of her hospital uniform, and into jeans.
Probably because she thought I was upstairs in bed, still recuperating, she didn't even look around. She didn't see me as she passed the porch.
"Plunk." I heard the mail and briefcase hit the dining room table, then her footsteps on the stairs.
In observing this normal, everyday action, a brilliant idea had come to me. I knew a way to get Mr. Davis and Mom to meet.
Without a second thought, I stuck my hand into my pocket, and pulled out the magic blue bottle. It had stayed there safely for weeks, unneeded. But I needed it now. This was a good cause.
Three drops on the wrist, and the tingling, invisible feeling began. I bounded in the front door, and grabbed the bundle of mail from the table. Tearing out the door, I hurdled down to the Davis mailbox, where their mail still sat.
I switched bundles. It was as easy as that. The Robbins mail went into the Davis box, and the Davis mail would go onto the dining room table. Brilliant! They would have to meet when they switched their mail!
I barely got the bundle back to the table when Mom came bouncing down the stairs. She was wearing painted streaked jeans and an old cut off sweatshirt. Not glamorous, for sure. But after all, Mr. Davis was a man who would appreciate paint, right?
I was sneaking upstairs to hide in my room when the tingling began again. The potion was wearing off! I spun around, becoming visible just as Mom came to the bottom of the stairs.
"Oh, Isabel, you startled me. I didn't see you there a minute ago."
That was more true than she would ever know! I started walking down the steps, as if I had been upstairs.
"Funny thing,” she said, staring down at the bundle in her hand. “The mailman gave us the wrong mail. This is for the Davis house next door. Maybe they got ours. Run this over and exchange it, will you, Isabel. I'm going to get started painting."
I panicked. I fibbed.
"Uh Mom, I feel a bit weak. I don't want to give Danny anything. Maybe I shouldn't go next door."
"Oh, I didn't think about that. I guess I'll do it myself."
She pulled the door open quickly, and almost charged right into the man standing on the porch. It was Mr. Davis. He had been ready to ring the doorbell. He had our stack of mail under his arm.
"I'm sorry," he said in his nice voice. "It looks like we got the wrong mail. I was hoping maybe you got ours." He smiled, and Mom smiled back.
"I was just on the way to deliver it myself," she said softly. She reached up and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. She was blushing! "Pardon my appearance - I'm painting."
"I can see that,” he said, looking around. “You've done a remarkable lot of work here. It looks wonderful. What are you working on now?"
"The kitchen ceiling. It was dingy and old. I had to fill in cracks, and now I'm putting the ceiling coat on."
"That's hard work. How about showing me what you're doing? I have a long handle brush --"
I was grinning ear to ear, but nobody was looking at me.
"You guys go ahead and check out the ceiling and Danny and I will be out playing here. Take your time. Ceilings are important. No rush."
Two stacks of mail were sitting side by side on the hall table, while they disappeared into the kitchen to discuss paint. I smiled to myself and went to find Danny.
Chapter 17
The leaves started to fall. Though there were still plenty of leaves and color over head, the ground was covered with the ones that made a carpet on the ground. When you walked on the sidewalk, you could hear some of them crunch
Halloween was coming soon, and there were carved jack-o-lanterns on the porch steps, and spooky decorations in most of the nearby windows.
I found Danny out in the front of his house. He was holding a rake, trying to make a pile of leaves. Five year olds are not good at this. Swinging the rake back and forth, he looked a little like he was swatting flies. But the look on his face was serious, so I knew better than to laugh. After all, I remember what it feels like to do your best, and still have people laugh.
"Hi, Danny!" I jumped off the porch.
"Hi, Isabel. I'm raking leaves. I’m making a pile." That was a generous description, but I kept my mouth shut.
"Wanna play in the leaves?" His voice sounded out of breath. He was working very hard, and getting nowhere fast.
“Only if you let me help rake. I love to rake."
"Wow! That would be great. Wait! I'll get another rake."
With that problem solved, we began raking together, making a giant pile right in front of Danny's house, near the sidewalk. Pretty soon, there was a respectable pile.
"I'm first," he yelled, dropping his rake, and leaping through the air. He landed in the pile, sinking to the bottom. I jumped in next to him.
The leaves were a little scratchy, but they had a good, autumn smell. We bounced around in the pile, making up different games as we played.
It was fun, even if Danny is just a little kid. I loved the way he looked up to me, like he thought I was somebody important. Danny thought I was smart, and that I knew how to do things. If I ever had a brother, I'd want him to be just like Danny.
"Where's my dad?" Danny asked a while later.
"He met my mom and they're talking about her painting job in the kitchen."
"Oh, boy. There's nothing my dad likes better than talking about paint. He'll be there all night."
I smiled to myself, thinking of things that Danny wouldn't understand. Wouldn't it be great if they liked each other?
We kept playing, but after the time passed for a while, I started getting curious. Were they getting along? What was going on? "Nancy Drew" needed to know.
"Hey, Danny, I'm going to go check on them. I'm getting kind of hungry. Aren't you?"
"I'm always hungry. Dad says it’s because I’m growing. How about if I stay here and wait while you get dad? I'll hide under the leaves, and then when he comes, I'll jump out and scare him."
Only a five year old would think of such a dumb p
lan, but I didn't want to discourage him. "OK, kiddo. I'll be right back."
I found Mr. Davis and Mom up on top of the same ladder. She was balancing the paint tray, and he was painting away at the kitchen ceiling. The two of them were jabbering away, obviously without any thought at all to the two hungry growing children they had forgotten in their painting spree.
"Hello." I called from the doorway. "Are we eating paint for dinner?"
They laughed, so I guess I sounded funny, but all of a sudden, I didn't feel very humorous. I think it bothered me to see them together up on that ladder. I mean, if I were to climb a ladder at the same time as somebody else, I would get the super lecture about safety and taking risks.
As soon as I realized how I was feeling, I felt really confused. I was the wizard who had brought these two together. I thought about it for so long, the idea of Mom having someone special, and me having a dad, maybe brothers or sisters.
So what was bothering me? I decided I was just a little bit jealous, seeing Mom with somebody else special, besides me. Sharing her. I had always been the most special person in her life. It didn't look like there was room on the ladder for me - or for Danny.
"We called for pizza," Mom said cheerfully. “If Steve is willing to paint this high ceiling, I'm willing to share my gourmet pizza, hot off the truck." They both started laughing again. Adults can be so silly.
”Tell Danny we'll eat as soon as the pizza is delivered. I should be done this ceiling by then," Mr. Davis (Steve) said in a happy voice. "Thanks for watching him, Isabel. I know he's safe with you."
I left the two painters doing their balance act on the ladder, and headed down the hall to the front door. I hoped Danny liked pizza. I sure did.
Even before I reached the porch, I had a really funny feeling come over me. I've never been one to believe in psychics and mind reading and all that kind of stuff, but I had come to realize, because of the magic invisible potion, that there were things that were unexplainable in life.
So I trusted the feeling, and started to walk faster. The feeling was fear, and it had to do with Danny's safety.
"I know he's safe with you," Mr. Davis had said from the top of the ladder. But he didn't really know me, and he didn't know what a total chicken I really was.
When I got out on the porch, Danny wasn't in sight. But then I remembered that he was planning to hide under the leaves to surprise his dad. Everything looked calm at first, and I was wondering why the feeling that something horrible was going to happen wouldn't go away.
But then, I looked down the street. Milton, peddling his bike like a maniac, was on his way.
He moved like lightning, down the center of the street. When he reached the middle of our block, he jumped the curb and bounded down the sidewalk. I was standing on the porch step, looking rapidly back and forth between the leaves and the fast approaching bike.
Milton's last escapade played through my mind. He had jumped up on the grass, spun around, and then had trashed my mom's flower bed. I had fixed the flower bed. But today, there would be no fixing. He was heading right for the pile of leaves that we had gathered on the grass, and little Danny was hiding underneath the pile.
Milton might only be trying to aggravate me, but the result was going to be disastrous. If that bike plunged through the leaves and hit Danny -- my stomach curled up into a tight knot. I remembered how bad I felt when Milton had wrecked Danny's bike. I also remembered what a chicken I was. I felt sick.
"Danny, get up," I yelled. Nothing moved. He was hiding. He had no idea of the danger. There were only seconds left before Milton hit the leaves. I was terrified, but I wasn't going to let Danny get hurt. I had to stop Milton.
"Stop, Milton!" I screamed, tearing down the porch steps. Milton ignored me, as usual. How could I stop him?
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the magic potion and speedily rubbed it on. I didn't care who was looking. I had a job to do.
There was nothing close enough to grab as a weapon to slow Milton down. The rakes were too far away, on the side of Danny's yard. The only thing in reach was the fat, orange pumpkin that sat on the edge of the porch steps. Mom had bought it for me to carve for Halloween. I grabbed it.
With the heavy pumpkin under my arm, I took a big leap off the porch, hitting the grass, just as Milton passed my house. He was heading for Danny's yard, and the giant pile of leaves that sat between the two houses.
I planted my feet, held the pumpkin in front of me, and tossed it into the air with all my might, grunting out loud with the effort. It was just as if I was making a foul shot on the basketball court. The pumpkin wobbled (it was heavier than a basketball, and, of course, not exactly round) as it soared through the air, but it did the job. Like I told you, I'm a great shot!
Plop! The big orange pumpkin hit Milton in the shoulder as he flew past on his bike. His head spun around, startled, and I could see him give me an amazed look as the pumpkin made contact.
Milton lost his balance and fell off the bike. Boy, bike and pumpkin all hit the sidewalk at the same time.
"Yeow!" he yelled, like a banshee in a monster movie.
.The pumpkin had split open when it landed on the sidewalk. Like a big orange explosion, sticky orange seeds and pumpkin guts covered the sidewalk, the bike, and, of course, Milton.
I sped around the mess, and ran to the leaves, digging around like a crazy person, until I found Danny.
"Come out, Come out." I screamed.
"What's the matter? I was just hiding, Isabel," he said in his little voice, as he emerged from the pile, dusting himself off. "How come you are crying? Where's dad?"
Then he saw Milton sprawled on the sidewalk, moaning, picking pumpkin seeds out of his hair. I saw the fear creep into his eyes. He was terrified of Milton, and had pieced together what had happened.
"Isabel!" He started to cry, and I sat in the leaves and pulled him into my lap.
"It's ok. It's ok. You didn't get hurt."
"Geez, Isabel," growled Milton, trying to stand up in the slimy mess. "I didn't know there was a kid in the pile! Honest!"
Milton crossed over to us and spoke to Danny. "I'm sorry, little kid. I really didn't mean to hurt you."
"You're always trying to scare people, Milton! Sooner or later you're going to really hurt someone, and then it's going to be too late. It's disgusting. I don't know why you have to do mean things like that all the time. You steal lunches, ruin flowers, and torture little kids."
Milton frowned. "I don't steal lunches any more."
"Big deal. But only a chicken picks on little kids."
I had hit my mark. Milton's face turned bright red, and he looked like he was ready to cry. Danny had scrambled to his feet, disappearing up the porch steps to see his dad, leaving me alone with Milton. Crying Milton.
All of a sudden, I felt really bad. I mean, Milton had been really bad, there was no doubt about that. But I knew how awful it felt to be a chicken, and I felt sorry for him.
"Not everybody is brave like you, Isabel," he said in a shaky voice. "Not everyone has a million friends and gets to tutor in math."
I stood up and walked over to him, amazed. Brave? A million friends? "I'm not brave Milton. I was scared to death of you. I'm always a chicken around you."
"You're no chicken, Isabel. That was really amazing. When I saw you hurling that stupid pumpkin --"
Something didn't make sense here. "You saw me?" I looked down at my hands. Sure enough, I wasn't invisible.
"You're a mighty good shot, in case you don't know. You must be a great basketball player." He rubbed his shoulder. "You aren't going to tell everybody, are you? You won't tell them about me covered with pumpkin?" His face looked horrified at the thought.
I let him wait for a minute. "As long as you stop being mean, it's a secret. As long as you are nice to people, no one hears about you being decorated in pumpkin seeds."
"OK! OK!" he climbed to his feet, picked up his bike, and started peddling down the street.
I hoped he was on his way home to take a shower.
I wasn't the least bit afraid of Milton any more. I really didn't think he'd want anybody to hear about the pumpkin seeds.
Chapter 18
Milton left, the pizza arrived, and the painting was finished, all at the same time. We sat around the dining room table, since the painting tools were still all over the kitchen. All four of us sat and ate pizza, with Danny practically jumping up and down in his seat while he told the story of Milton and the bike.
"Isabel is a hero. Isabel scared Milton away."
I blushed.
"Maybe we should contact that child's parents. He sounds like a real menace." Mr. Davis looked worried.
"Aw, don't bother," I said with a mouth full of pizza. "I honestly don't think Milton is going to scare Danny or anybody else again." I thought about the pumpkin pits sticking out of his ear, and clinging to his hair, and I smiled.
"Well, you're sure a brave kid, Isabel. I'm glad you're on Danny's side, that's for sure!"
We had a good time devouring the pizza. Mom made iced tea to go with it, and by the time we were done, when both the pizza and the tea were gone, it was starting to get dark.
Mr. Davis asked if we wanted to go to a movie together tomorrow night, and Mom said yes. I was amazed, but she was blushing like crazy. When Mr. Davis and Danny left a little while later, Mom was busily washing the paintbrushes, and hummimg under her breath.
"Nice guy, huh, Mom?" I stuffed the pizza box and the napkins in the trashcan, glad to see her happy.
She turned and looked at me, blushing again. "Mind your own business, Isabel," she said with a laugh.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess it was a good thing the mailman got the mail mixed up. Who knows when you two would have met if it hadn't happened.”
"Hmmm," Mom said dreamily. "I guess it was fate."
I felt the blue bottle deep in my pocket. It hadn't been fate, it had been Isabel. But I'd keep that a secret.
"Night Mom! I'm going to go up in the attic for a minute, then I'm going to bed. I'm tired."
Isabel the Invisible Page 8
