Play It Again
Page 13
Bats, rats, and spiders (Madison)
Madison decided she’d be the best person to make spiders, roaches, and moths out of black and brown construction paper. Her love of animals and all things creepy-crawly made her perfect for the job.
Ivy decided that she wanted to put up all the balloons. Probably because the boys were already talking about playing with the helium machine. Madison wondered if that was Ivy’s key motivation: blow up balloons, meet boys. Then again, everyone loved the idea of inhaling helium and talking like a squeaky Munchkin. Ivy always did things that were popular.
Suddenly Madison’s e-mail box blinked. It even had a red exclamation mark next to it.
Importance: high!
From: Bigwheels
To: MadFinn
Subject: Happy Columbus Day?
Date: Tues 17 Oct 5:20 PM
I know I’ m like 2 wks late, but did I say happy Columbus Day? Or is that holiday just a bad joke? My old camp friend said Columbus didn’t really discover America. Is that true? I figured you’d know.
Mom & Dad are officially back together. Did I tell you that already? Dad bought her flowers yesterday, so I am feeling happy. They were roses. Mom keeps humming, though, and it’s getting on my nerves.
How is that guy you have a crush on? What is his name again? Write back or else, okay?
Yours till the peanut butters,
Bigwheels
P.S. Do you have a Halloween dance at your school? I have to make cupcakes for mine. I bet you’re making posters for the dance on your computer, you’re so good at that artistic stuff.
P.P.S. What are you dressing up as for Halloween?
Madison clicked REPLY immediately. Sometimes the way she and Bigwheels thought and talked about the same things was scary. Her keypal hadn’t guessed that Madison would be on the decoration committee, but anything else she talked about was so true.
From: MadFinn
To: Bigwheels
Subject: Re: Happy Columbus Day?
Date: Tues 17 Oct 6:10 PM
Hi!!!!! Thanks for writing back & for your advice.
To answer all your comments and questions in order (sort of):
1. Happy Columbus Day to you, too.
2. There are some people who think Columbus wasn’t the only guy. That’s true. My mom almost produced a documentary on that subject. (Did I tell you that she makes movies? Mostly nature stuff, but sometimes profiles on famous people, too, like Christopher Columbus.)
3. I am so happy about your parents. WOW!
4. My crush is doing okay (see my question below).
5. We DO have a Halloween dance. I can’t believe you asked me that question! We just met about it today. I was put on the decorating committee, BUT there’s just one problem (see my question).
Now my questions for you.
1. How can I get my enemy (you know) away from the guy I like? She’s after him, I know it!
2. How can I be on a dance committee when my enemy is in charge? She’s everywhere I go. Help!!!
Okay, that’s all for now. Bye! WRITE BACK.
Yours till the scare crows,
MadFinn
P.S. Do you make up scary stories or just poems? Just curious. TweenBlurt is having a special Halloween writing contest. Are you entering?
She clicked SEND and watched the e-mail disappear. Madison was thinking about how great it would be if Bigwheels wrote something for the contest, too.
But then Madison thought some more.
What would it be like to compete against a keypal at that contest? Competition got in the way of everything. Competing with Ivy for the decorations committee and for Hart was enough for one day.
Let the Halloween games begin.
Chapter 3
AS SOON AS MADISON arrived home from school the next day, she yanked her nubby brown sweater from the closet and down over her head. Her hair got static-electrified when she did that. She had an entire halo of split ends.
It was extra chilly in the house. Fall was beginning to make moves toward winter.
Madison wanted to power up her laptop and type into a new file called “Caught in the Web.” She had spent a half hour scribbling inside her notebook during free time in Mrs. Wing’s class, t rying to come up with ideas for a story for the Halloween Web contest
Unfortunately, she had zero ideas that really worked.
She also had zero time. Her dad and his new girlfriend, Stephanie, Madison, and Aimee were going on a late afternoon trip to Peterson’s Farm. The four of them were going to get pumpkins and cider, a Finn tradition begun by Dad and his family years ago.
Madison had invited Fiona to come along, too, but Fiona had an important soccer practice (again).
Peterson’s Farm was a half hour outside of Far Hills in a town called West Lake. There wasn’t actually much of a lake there anymore, but when Dad was little, his parents brought him there every summer to swim and every winter to ice skate. Within a mile of the place, Dad usually got nostalgic.
“Do I look fat in this sweater, Mom?” Madison asked, walking back into the kitchen. She’d chosen brown corduroys to color-coordinate her bottom with the top.
“You look nice and warm,” Mom said, ignoring the fat part of the question. “Now, don’t forget to get me some of that corn relish at the farm, okay? And wear your Timberlands, not those sneakers. It’s muddy out.”
“It should be you going with us, Mom,” Madison said, picking at cookies that had been left on the kitchen counter. “It’s just not the same anymore …”
“Maddie,” Mom said. She stopped what she was doing, leaned over, and gently rubbed a finger behind Madison’s ear. “Look, Maddie, I know it’s hard. I know this is the first real fall since your father and I split up—”
Madison rolled her eyes, so Mom grabbed her gently by the shoulders.
“Madison, later on this week you and I will do something that’s fun just for us. Like making pies—or raking all the leaves in the backyard.”
“Raking? That’s your idea of fun?” Madison moaned. “Are you kidding?”
“Of course I’m only kidding!” Mom looked right into Madison’s eyes again. It felt like she was staring right through her skin, bones, and everything.
Madison didn’t feel like talking all of a sudden. She just hugged Mom.
“Honey bear,” Mom continued to speak. “You’ll love going up to West Lake. I know it. And you like Dad’s girlfriend … what’s her name?”
“Stephanie,” Madison said. Mom sometimes forgot little details like names.
“Yes, Stephanie,” Mom repeated slowly. “Well, you said you like her. What’s the problem?”
“She’s just not you,” Madison said.
Mom squeezed her daughter around the middle. “Do me a favor and try to have a good time, Maddie. Try.”
Tap tap.
Aimee was outside the kitchen door, face pressed so her lips went splat like a big guppy mouth kissing the glass. She’d changed her outfit since school, too.
Tap tap tap tap.
“I’m coming!” Madison said, opening the sliding doors.
“Hiya!” Aimee blurted, dancing inside. “Hey, Mrs. Finn!”
When she said “Finn,” Phin, the dog, came running to say hello.
“Well, Aimee,” Mom said. “Don’t you look as pretty as always!”
Aimee grinned and struck one of her dancer poses. “Thank you.”
“And that’s a nice sweater,” Madison said, rolling her eyes and half laughing. “Is it new?”
Aimee was wearing a black ski sweater with a big purple stripe.
“Oh my God, this? Not even. And it makes me look so huge,” Aimee quipped. “You’re not supposed to wear stripes across. Totally unflattering. But I thought it would be warm, so I wore it. It’s wicked cold out today.”
“You’ve got a lot of energy this afternoon,” Mom dec
lared.
“My brother Roger made me herbal tea when I got home from school,” Aimee said. “You know how he always makes these drinks with ginger and ginseng. It’s good for you.”
Madison had never eaten or drunk anything with ginseng in it. It sounded too mysterious. She glanced at her own outfit and compared it to what Aimee had on. Aimee always seemed to dress the part of cool while Madison usually felt uncool in comparison.
Honk honk.
Aimee peeked out the window. “It’s your dad, Maddie! Bye, Mrs. Finn!”
“That was good timing, huh?” Madison said, looking at Mom. It seemed hard to believe Dad was in the driveway on time. Mom said that in fifteen years of marriage, Jeff Finn had never been on time.
Dad stuck his head out the window to wave to Mom, who was standing on the porch. Mom waved limply and walked back inside.
Approaching the car, Madison saw Stephanie seated in the front seat. Stephanie had been riding up front since she’d begun dating Dad. Madison had a sinking feeling she would never ride shotgun in Dad’s car again.
Madison and Aimee jumped in the back.
“How was school today, girls?” Dad asked, pumping the gas pedal. He started driving and asking so many questions that Madison was sure he must have had six cups of coffee. Dad was like a little kid when he got excited.
“So we have the entire afternoon planned out,” Dad explained. “First the pumpkin patch—then cider—hmmm—what time is it, Stephanie?”
Stephanie turned to the girls in the backseat and winked as she said to Dad, “Slow down, will ya, Speed Racer? It’s almost four o’clock.”
The two friends chuckled. The farm closed up shop after six. They had plenty of time to get there and find the right pumpkins.
“Your dad got a new digital camera that we’re going to try out,” Stephanie said. “Did he tell you, Maddie?”
Dad spied Madison in the rearview mirror and smiled. “You up for a photo session, girls?”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m sure Aimee is,” Madison teased.
“Hey!” Aimee laughed. “Well, I don’t mind having my picture taken, if that’s what you’re asking, Mr. Finn.” She gave Madison’s shoulder a gentle nudge.
“That’s good!” he said.
“How come you guys aren’t at work or something?” Aimee asked.
Stephanie laughed. “Aren’t days off a wonderful thing? We had a business meeting this morning. Saved the afternoon for you two.”
“We’ll beat the Saturday rush at the farm,” Dad said. “You girls finished your homework like we agreed, right?”
Madison and Aimee nodded from the backseat.
Outside the car, tree branches shook their dead yellow, red, and orange leaves off in the wind. Madison pressed her nose up to the window on the passenger side and watched as her warm breath fogged up the cool glass. She traced a smiley face with her index finger. Aimee leaned over and used her fingers to draw squiggles in the same spot.
Soon they were driving through the farm gates. After they parked, Dad led them to the horse cart transporting guests into the pumpkin patches.
Madison, Aimee, and Stephanie posed for a photo op in front of “Megasquash,” a display of enormous zucchinis. Aimee stuck a piece of hay in her mouth and twirled around, working overtime to be the center of attention. Madison laughed hysterically while Dad clicked away.
The greatest thing about Dad’s digital camera was all its cool features. He could eliminate or retake bad pictures right away, of course. But he could also add special effects, turn the photos into a black and white photo strip, or replace Madison and Aimee’s hair with fake neon-colored wig-hair or wacky hats. Later, Madison would download all Dad’s photos as screen savers for her laptop.
The air on the farm smelled more and more like everything fall was supposed to smell like: horses, smoke from a chimney, apples, more hay. Madison took a deep breath of cool air. It was getting duskier outside.
“Look at this one, Maddie! It has boobs!” Aimee screeched when they jumped off the cart into the pumpkin patch. She held up a giant orange pumpkin with two funny-looking bumps on the side.
Madison laughed and ran over to join Aimee. They sorted through plump ones, round ones, flat ones, and even green ones. Stephanie found a teeny patch that had been picked over already by some crows. Dad found a pumpkin so big that it barely fit in the wagon they were using.
At five o’clock, Madison and Aimee ordered cups of cider at one of the farm stands and sat out on a picnic bench, even though it was a little too chilly to sit in one place for very long.
“How did you meet Mr. Finn?” Aimee asked, blowing on the cider before taking her first sip. She was so good at asking the right questions. Madison envied Aimee’s ability to say whatever was on her mind.
Stephanie said that she was a computer sales rep. and met Madison’s dad at a technology conference a few months back. In her head, Madison tried to do the math just to make sure that Dad had started dating Stephanie after the big D.
They had.
“Steph—” Dad started to groan. “Do you girls really wanna hear this?”
“Of course we do, Mr. Finn!” Aimee blurted. “Every detail. Like, what were you wearing when you met?”
“I think I had on a gray sweater.” Stephanie chuckled. “And plaid pants.”
“Plaid? Ohhh!” Aimee bristled like plaid was bad. She continued with her questions. “Have you ever been married before?”
Madison couldn’t believe Aimee would ask something so personal.
Stephanie smiled. “Well, not exactly.”
“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” Madison asked.
“Well, here’s the thing. I was engaged,” Stephanie said. “Once. I was engaged, but I didn’t go through with it. Couldn’t go through with it.”
“And am I glad for that,” Dad said, wrapping his arm around Stephanie’s back and leaning in to kiss her head.
Dad looked up just in time to see the expression on Madison’s face. It was a “why did you just do that?” look. It had taken Madison her whole life to get used to Dad kissing Mom. Now she had to get used to Dad kissing someone else?
Eeeeeuuuw.
Madison remembered to grab a jar of Mom’s favorite relish as they left the farm. She triple-checked the label to make sure it was the correct kind: extra spicy, Peterson’s specialty.
Dad paid for all the pumpkins, including the one with boobs, and the relish, and then the foursome headed back to his Far Hills loft. He was preparing a “Finn Feast,” or so he said. Stephanie promised she’d toast pumpkin seeds.
While Madison’s dad and Stephanie cooked dinner, Madison logged on to Dad’s newfangled computer with its slick chrome edges. Aimee just watched at first. Then she sat down and grabbed the cordless mouse.
“Let’s go to that site you were talking about yesterday,” Aimee said. “With Fiona. You know the one.”
“You mean TweenBlurt.com?” Madison asked.
Aimee nodded. “I wanna get a screen name. Can we do it now? Tonight?”
Madison smiled. After all this time, she was so happy to hear that Aimee wanted to log on for real. It meant the three friends could gab on the computer in three-way conversations. Finally. They signed on under Madison’s screen name to start. Madison punched in her secret password.
The home page was a giant advertisement for the Caught in the Web Halloween story contest, with flashing spiders and cobwebs and witches floating past on on-screen broomsticks. If you moved the cursor over one of the fish inside the homepage bowl, you saw its skeleton.
All at once, a shaded green box popped up. The cursor blinked quickly.
ENTER SCREEN NAME
“I don’t know what my name should be, Maddie. Whaddya think? Twinkle toes?” Aimee joked. “Bertha big butt? Ha! You’re good at nicknames. You gave Egg his nickname, didn’t you?”
Madison laughed out loud. “Yeah, right.” She had.
They punched in a perfect screen name for
Aimee’s personality.
BALLETGIRL
The screen flashed like a strobe light.
NAME TAKEN. SELECT ANOTHER. MAY WE RECOMMEND BALLETGIRL12?
“That’s lame. What’s the twelve for?” Aimee asked, disappointed. “Are there really eleven other ballerinas on this Web site? I don’t get this.”
“Wait!” Madison exclaimed, punching in a different name without any numbers. She typed “BALLETGRL”—without the I for a change.
That worked.
At long last, Aimee was an official online member of the TweenBlurt community. She announced her name and her password out loud as she punched it in, like she was ordering something at the deli.
“BALLETGRL! POINTE!”
Aimee had a hard time keeping secrets. Even her own.
After dinner, the duo signed online again to test Aimee’s new membership privileges in chat rooms and beyond. When Madison noticed that Wetwinz was online, she helped Aimee send her first message.
They asked Fiona about soccer practice that day, and Fiona wrote back in an instant:
I can’t believe this is YOU! That is so wow. C u!
“What’s that?” Aimee asked, pointing to the letters C and U at the end of the message. She didn’t understand Web talk—yet.
“C U. It’s ‘See you.’ Get it? It’s texting lingo, like computer shorthand. You’ll pick it up after a while.”
Then Madison took her turn logging in. Dad poked his head into the room to say it was time to pack up for home. Madison ran to the bathroom, leaving Aimee to surf the site by herself.
Aimee couldn’t take her eyes off TweenBlurt.com, clicking from screen to screen, searching for an available chat room that she liked. She couldn’t believe the made-up names she saw there: ChuckD4Ever, PrtyGrrl88, and Brbiedoll.
All of a sudden, there was a message up on the screen.
“Hey!” Aimee cried out to Madison. “What’s this?”
“Huh?” Madison asked, walking back in.
“Who is Bigwheels?” Aimee said, eyes locked on the screen.
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About the Author
Author Laura Dower has a lot in common with Madison Finn: They’re both only children and they both love dogs, the color orange, and books! Laura has written more than ninety kids’ books to date, including twenty-five in the series From the Files of Madison Finn. Her other books include the new Palace Puppies series and For Girls Only, a guide to girl stuff. When she’s not writing, Laura loves to garden, sing (loudly), and volunteer as a scout leader for her daughter and two sons. She and her family live in New York. Want to be keypals? Drop her a note at www.lauradower.com.