Disney Before the Story

by Disney Books

  Cruella walked to the cooling baked goods and studied them. “I don’t eat sweets,” she said. “I don’t see the point.”

  “They taste delicious,” Penelope said. “That’s the point.”

  Cruella shrugged. “How much will you sell them for?”

  Perdita let out another muffled cry, and Beatrice spoke loudly to cover it up: “One ha’penny each for the biscuits.”

  “Interesting,” Cruella said. Anita could see she was mouthing numbers, doing math in her head. “And what about the rest?”

  “Ha’penny for the scones, one penny for the tarts? We haven’t really settled it yet,” Beatrice said as Cruella circled the desserts.

  “That’s quite the tidy profit,” Cruella said, smirking.

  Anita felt uneasy, and not just because she was nervous about Perdita. What did Cruella care about the profits? “It is a fund-raiser, after all,” Anita said. “We have to raise enough for our dues and supplies.”

  Another cry came from the cupboard. This time Cruella noticed.

  “What was that?” she asked sharply.

  “That was me,” Madeline said, sniffling. Everyone, including Cruella, turned to look at her. Madeline was pretending to cry. “My parents are bakers, and this whole experience—it just gets me so emotional, being in the kitchen again.” She put her hand on her heart.

  Cruella frowned. “That’s very strange,” she said. “Emotional over baking?” She shook her head. “Make sure you clean everything when you’re done. I look forward to seeing the finished profits—I mean, finished products. Toodle-oo!” And with a wave, Cruella was gone.

  The girls let out sighs of relief. Anita opened the cupboard and scooped up Perdita. “I’m so sorry for shoving you in there.” Perdita licked her cheeks, letting her know she was forgiven.

  “That Cruella is an odd duck,” Madeline said.

  “To be fair, you were the one crying over baking,” Penelope said. Everyone laughed.

  The Arties returned to their tasks, and soon the tense air from Cruella’s visit was gone. Anita couldn’t help worrying, though, underneath her smiles and laughter. At what point would it become impossible to keep Perdita hidden?

  The next day, the Arties set up their cake stall in the great hall, and word soon spread through the usually silent school about the fresh sweet treats. Students and teachers alike showed up to purchase the goodies. The fundraiser lifted the spirits of everyone who stopped by. It was the first time Anita had seen that many smiles at Dahlington.

  Over the following weeks, the Arties continued to spend time together. They planned fundraisers (all graciously approved by Cruella), worked on art projects with what limited supplies they could find around the school, studied together, and were always laughing. Classes were becoming more bearable as well. Her literature teacher even let the class make collages for one of their book reports. But the best parts of Anita’s days were the ones she spent with Perdita. They’d play together with Anita’s stuffed rabbit, cuddle as Anita sketched, or work on tricks to help with Perdita’s obedience. She’d already learned to sit and roll over. “Stay” was going to take more practice—and unfortunately, that was the command Anita most needed Perdita to learn.

  No matter what she did, Anita couldn’t figure out how to keep Perdita calm when she heard a loud noise outside. Beatrice had been kind enough to babysit Perdita whenever possible, even moving study dates with Elsie, a girl from her class, to do so. But the girls couldn’t be with her all the time. Keeping the puppy a secret was becoming more and more difficult, especially during the hubbub of the Arties’ weekend fundraisers.

  After the cake stall, the girls held a car wash. While the Arties were outside, a honking horn set off Perdita in Anita’s dorm. Anita had to run to her room to help Perdita quiet down before anyone discovered where the barks were coming from.

  On another weekend, the Arties organized a scavenger hunt with the chance to win a new hat from Claire’s father’s shop. The students who signed up worked in teams of four to follow clues around the halls and grounds of Dahlington. It was the first time Anita had seen so many of her peers working and laughing together. But in the middle of overseeing the fun, Anita spotted the Dapperton boys beginning soccer practice down the road. She raced to her room just in time to catch Perdita before she started barking at the whistle.

  By now, the Arties had almost enough money for their club dues and new art supplies. They decided to throw one final event to reach their goal. They set up an art fair that was open not just to Dahlington, but also to Dapperton and the local town. In the weeks leading up to the fair, Anita noticed people around her taking newfound pride in Dahlington’s appearance. Teachers pitched in to tidy the classrooms. Janitors hauled paint from the basement to touch up the cracks. Anita even saw students straighten the odd crooked picture or plaque.

  The Arties made paintings, crafts, bracelets, and other items to sell at the art fair. Anita was responsible for the raffle booth. The prize was a beautiful portrait she had painted of Perdita. The fair had just gotten underway, with the outside guests wandering into the great hall, as Anita set up the portrait on an easel for display.

  “That’s a beautiful picture,” someone said.

  Anita turned to see a sandy-haired boy admiring the painting of Perdita. He was dressed in a Dapperton uniform. “Thank you,” she replied.

  “My parents promised me I’d get a dog just like it for Christmas. A Dalmatian, right? Is she yours?” the boy asked.

  “Um, she kind of is—yes, but—” Anita stammered.

  “My name’s Roger.” The boy stuck out his hand. Anita reached to shake it, but before she could, a wailing alarm sounded from somewhere outside the school.

  “What’s that?” Anita asked, startled.

  “That’s just the alarm from the fire brigade.” Roger gave Anita a funny look. “Don’t worry. I don’t think we’re on fire.” He chuckled.

  “I have to check something,” Anita said. She hurried off toward the dormitories. Perdita was likely getting worked up into a frenzy.

  But no sooner had Anita stepped outside than she saw a blur of black and white racing toward the road.

  “Oh, no!” Anita shouted. She sprinted toward Perdita, who was running at top speed toward the alarm in the distance.

  Beatrice appeared, chasing after Anita and Perdita. “I popped into the room to get more raffle tickets. The moment I opened the door, she bolted!” Beatrice shouted as she ran.

  Perdita was scurrying fast on her tiny legs. She let out a bark as she bounded down the school drive. Anita thanked her lucky stars that everyone was inside at the art fair.

  Suddenly, from Anita’s left, someone else dashed toward Perdita. It was Roger, the boy Anita had met moments earlier. He rounded down the driveway and managed to beat the puppy to the road, catching her as she ran by.

  Roger held out the wriggling Perdita for Anita to take. “I think I recognize this little rascal from your painting.”

  Anita panted, trying to catch her breath. “Thank you, Roger. Oh, thank you.”

  Beatrice reached them next. “I’m so sorry, Anita! She was too fast!”

  Roger ruffled the fur on top of Perdita’s head and handed her to Anita. The fire alarm had faded, and Perdita was calming down. “How wonderful you’re allowed to keep pets here,” Roger said.

  Beatrice and Anita exchanged glances. “We aren’t exactly allowed to,” Anita said. “Please don’t mention this to anyone.”

  Roger clapped his hands together. “An undercover Dalmatian operation. That is exciting!”

  Anita laughed. “Right now I wish it was a little less exciting. I’d better get Perdita back to our room.”

  Beatrice turned to Roger. “And you’re missing our fantastic art fair. Let me show you around,” she said.

  Anita bade Roger and her roommate goodbye and headed back toward the dorm with Perdita underneath her sweater. As she rounded the corner of the great hall, familiar black and white hair c
aught her attention. Cruella De Vil was rapping on the staff only entrance.

  Anita ducked behind the wall and out of sight. In addition to giving permission for all the fundraisers, Cruella had also shown up at each one, with a peculiar interest in what the Arties were selling and how much money they were bringing in. Anita had supposed she just liked counting as much as she did creating bizarre fashions. She was curious, though, about what the older girl was up to, and she couldn’t help peering around the corner to watch.

  The staff door opened and the Headmistress appeared. The woman was sobbing, her shoulders hunched. She was holding a framed painting, but Anita couldn’t see the image. Cruella handed the Headmistress a large swath of fabric, and together they draped it over the frame. Then they went inside, closing the door behind them.

  With the coast clear, Anita continued on to her dormitory. She couldn’t make sense of what she had just seen. Was the Headmistress really that upset about keeping her belongings free of dust? If she was, why had she let the rest of Dahlington get so far into a state of disrepair?

  Back in her room, Anita settled Perdita down and waited until the puppy fell asleep before she returned to the art fair. She soon forgot about the strange sighting of Cruella and the Headmistress, because her concern for her puppy was much greater. Anita didn’t want to live her life in fear of Perdita’s being discovered. Nor did she want Perdita to feel for her whole puppyhood like Anita had felt her first two weeks at Dahlington—like she couldn’t be herself and couldn’t feel truly at home. But what could Anita do? She couldn’t stop sudden noises from happening, and she couldn’t control her dog from afar. She had to find another solution.

  And that was when Anita had an idea.

  Once the art fair was over, the Arties spent the afternoon cleaning up. As the girls packed away the few crafts that hadn’t sold and Beatrice counted the money they’d made, Anita brought up her plan.

  “Arties, I think I have an idea for two of the biggest problems facing our club,” Anita said. “There’s a place that could serve both as our clubhouse and as a permanent location to hide Perdita. Care to take a walk? I’ll show you.”

  Beatrice checked her watch. “I was supposed to meet that girl, Elsie, from my English class to study. She’s been asking me every weekend, but we’ve been so busy. And I can’t imagine why she needs to study. She’s got the best grade in the class!”

  “Why don’t you ask her to join the art club?” Madeline said.

  “She doesn’t want to! She’s afraid or something.” Beatrice shrugged. “Anyway, Arties come first. Let’s see your idea, Anita.”

  Anita led her friends across the school grounds to the run-down equipment shed where she’d found Perdita weeks earlier.

  The Arties looked skeptically at the shed.

  “You want this to be our clubhouse?” Penelope asked, reaching out to open the door, but the handle fell to the ground at her touch.

  “It doesn’t look like much now, but think about it,” Anita said, hoping her excitement would catch on. “The janitors keep extra paint in the basement. There are old cleaning supplies already inside. With some hard work, we could make this our meeting place and a house for Perdita. No one would hear her playing, howling, or barking.”

  “I’m willing to try,” Madeline said. “For Perdita, at the very least.”

  “For Perdita!” the rest of the girls cheered.

  The next day, the Arties returned to the equipment shed with Perdita and got to work. First they cleaned out all the rubbish. The shed was full of relics from the school’s past, from old jerseys to dusty history textbooks to battered trophies. It was fun going through the old stuff. Even Perdita was having a good time, with an endless supply of old balls to play with.

  “What’s this?” Beatrice asked, holding up a pennant in the school’s colors of maroon and gold. It said Dahlington, and there was an outline of a long funny-looking dog on the banner as well.

  “Look—this has it, too!” Lucy cried. She held up a hockey stick with the same dog image painted on the handle.

  “This too,” Claire said, as she popped on a maroon cap with a gold dog on it.

  “There’s a spider on that,” Penelope said. Claire shrieked and threw the hat from her head. The other girls erupted into laughter. Then they all got back to cleaning, keeping a lookout for more dog images.

  Finally, after a weekend of hard work, the shed looked identical to the one in the old tennis club photo. The trim was painted a cheery aqua, the siding a crisp white, and the door a bold red. Inside, the colors were blues and reds and pinks, as well as natural brown for the wood. It was the perfect place for an art club—and a perfect house for a Dalmatian puppy.

  Anita arranged a finishing touch: a vase of wildflowers on a small table the girls had rescued from the rubble. As she stepped back to admire the clubhouse, her new friends applauded.

  “Why are you cheering?” Anita asked.

  “Without you,” Beatrice started, “we might all still be miserable and lonely.”

  “The art club has been my favorite part of Dahlington,” Madeline said.

  “Same here,” the other girls echoed.

  Anita beamed. “There’s still one prob-lem, though.”

  “What’s that?” Lucy asked.

  “We aren’t an official club!” Anita said. “At least not in the eyes of Dahlington Academy.”

  “We have everything we need now,” Beatrice said. “The funds, the members, the meeting place…”

  “Should we make it official?” Anita asked her friends.

  “Yes!” the other girls cried. Perdita woofed.

  “I’ll go make the request with the Headmistress,” Anita said. “Beatrice, do you have the cashbox? Would you like to come along?”

  Beatrice checked her watch. “Yes,” she said, “but I have to meet Elsie. I’ve broken our appointments too many times.” Beatrice handed Anita the cashbox with their saved club dues. “I’ll meet you back here afterward?”

  Anita nodded. She addressed the other Arties. “Please keep an eye on Perdita, and wish me luck!”

  Anita knocked on the Headmistress’s office door.

  To Anita’s surprise, Cruella appeared. She eyed the cashbox in Anita’s hands. “Anita, darling. Is that what I think it is?”

  “Yep! We’re ready to make the club official,” Anita said. “Can I speak to the Headmistress?”

  Cruella slipped out of the office and into the hallway, closing the door behind her. “The Headmistress is very busy at the moment,” she whispered. She looked back at the cashbox. “May I see?”

  Anita handed over the box. Cruella opened it and counted the money.

  “Here are our application form and signatures.” Anita handed over both documents to Cruella.

  “Everything appears to be in order.” Cruella’s lips curled into a wry smile. She withdrew an official-looking certificate from inside her velvet overcoat and handed it to Anita.

  “It says ‘Official Dahlington Academy Art Club,’” Anita read aloud. “You had this all ready to go?”

  “I never doubted you for a moment, Anita darling,” Cruella said. “I knew you’d make this happen for me. I mean, you. Your new club.”

  Anita scratched her head. “So the Headmistress has authorized the club? I don’t need to speak to her?”

  “I briefed her,” Cruella said. “She’s very pleased you’ve taken this on. As am I. It’s going to be wonderful for the fashion club.”

  “Don’t you mean wonderful to have an art club?” Anita asked.

  Cruella paused. “Did I say wonderful for the fashion club? I just meant wonderful to have another club in the mix.” Cruella cackled and clutched the cashbox. “I’ll go take this to the treasury for safekeeping. Toodles, Anita!”

  “Thank you!” Anita said as Cruella disappeared into the Headmistress’s office. Cruella was definitely a strange girl. But Anita had to admit that she’d been nothing but helpful.

  Anita headed
back to the equipment shed, feeling lighter than air. She thought about the afternoon a couple of months prior when a much lonelier girl opened a letter from her mum and got the idea to join a club. Since then, so much had changed. Anita had created her own sense of home at Dahlington. And it made her feel strong.

  Anita’s daydreaming was interrupted by the other Arties running toward her, Beatrice leading the way.

  “Anita!” Beatrice huffed and puffed, trying to catch her breath.

  “Did you already hand over our dues?” Madeline asked. The Arties all looked worried and frantic.

  “Yes…” Anita said slowly. She held up the official club certificate.

  “Oh, no,” Lucy said, putting her head in her hands.

  “What is it?” Anita asked.

  “The reason Elsie kept wanting to see me wasn’t to study. It was to tell me about what really happened with all the other clubs,” Beatrice said. “It was Cruella! She used her influence with the Headmistress to get them shut down. She found all these supposed rules they broke. Sabotaged them. One by one.”

  “But why would she do that?” Anita asked.

  “Think about it,” Claire said. “Once the other clubs were shut down, there was only one club left—one club that could use all the funding for itself.”

  “She took the other clubs’ money for the fashion club,” Anita said, piecing it together.

  “That’s how she’s paying for all that expensive fabric and those fancy sewing machines,” Lucy explained.

  It all made sense to Anita now: Cruella’s special interest in their fundraising. The glee in her eyes when she saw the money in the cashbox. “And we just handed her our money,” Anita said in horror.

  “We have to try to stop her!” Penelope cried.

  The Arties’ eyes met. “Let’s go,” Anita said. And they ran to the Headmistress’s office to try to catch Cruella.