Maniac Monkeys on Magnolia Street & When Mules Flew on Magnolia Street
Page 8
It's been a hard last few days. I don't like painting fences so much. Painting people is a whole lot better.
And the Camp Margaret ghost…
I know he's still out there—waiting to go home.
I STILL LOVE CAMP, CHARLIE!
BUT I HATE FENCES!
Your friend,
Lump
ear Lump and Billy, (Hope you two don't mind me sending you both the same letter.) I hope you guys got my last letter. I've missed you and can't wait to see you two next week. It hasn't been the same here since Camp FunWa and Camp Margaret grabbed both of you away from Magnolia Street.
I've met a real fun person from Chicago named Ashley while you two have been away at camp. I know we'll all have fun together when you guys meet her. She likes to plant things, and I'm starting to not mind gardening so much. I even pick vegetables instead of giving Sid half my allowance to do it for me.
I'm sorry you guys have been having a few problems at camp, but I know you're having fun anyway. How could you not?
Not much has been happening in the last couple of days. Ashley is visiting relatives in the country. Everybody has been so busy that mostly I just sit reading underneath the willow trees and drink lemonade all day long.
My dad says I have what he calls a good life.
But guess what?
I've been hanging out with Sid.
Yeah, my brother, Sid. The one who teases me and plays tricks on me and once even filled my room with so many frogs it took me days to find all of them.
I shouldn't say not much has been happening. I really meant to say not much is happening now. There have been a few things going on.…
You see, mules have been flying over Magnolia Street.
No, really.
Really!
I didn't know I'd ever see such a thing. My brother, Sid, was the reason it all happened.
Do you guys ever wake up right as the sun is rising? Do you ever hear the man with the cart rolling down Magnolia Street singing this song?
Strawberries,
Raspberries,
Blueberries,
Fresh in the crates.
Sweet, sweet melons,
Sweet, sweet grapes.
Well, even if you never woke up to hear him, you probably ate some of the fruit off his cart, 'cause everybody in the neighborhood buys fruit from Mr. Janks.
I wake up just to listen to him calling through the streets. It wouldn't be summer without him.
Well, what I didn't know about Mr. Janks is that the mule pulling his cart is called Sweet Shirley and he's had her for twenty years. I finally got to meet her a few days ago.
She's great. She brays and swishes her tail when she sees me.
Sid is the one who introduced us all to each other. Sid says he and Mr. Janks have been friends for a long time. They know each other from our old neighborhood. Sid says Mr. Janks used to give him grapes when he'd see Sid on his paper route.
Who knew Sid was that likable?
I didn't, but it seems Mr. Janks and Sweet Shirley think so.
So—I guess you want to know how Sweet Shirley ended up flying over Magnolia Street.
In the beginning it's a real sad story.
You see, one morning Mr. Janks didn't sing on Magnolia Street.
Then he wasn't there the next day, either.
Or the next…
At first I didn't notice, 'cause I just didn't wake up early. You see, the only reason I ever knew about Mr. Janks was that he woke me up singing. So without him and Sweet Shirley going down the street singing their song, I just slept in.
Well, Sid noticed. By the second day he was kind of worried.
Mom said, “Mr. Janks probably took a vacation.”
“He never has before,” Sid said.
“Mr. Janks is getting older now, though,” Dad said, flipping pancakes. “He probably needs to take a rest.”
Sid still looked worried. And worst of all, he didn't eat his breakfast. If you know Sid, you'll know that means he was really worried. There have been only a couple of times in his whole life that he didn't eat a meal.
He eats a lot even when he's sick.
He looked so sad that I got worried. (And I try never to worry about Sid, 'cause just about the time you have nice feelings about him, he does something mean or makes fiin of you.)
Anyway, we were both worried.
Sid decided he'd go to Mr. Janks's house if he didn't show up the next day.
The next morning Sid and I waited in our pajamas, barefoot in the front yard, for Mr. Janks.
Sid said, “You don't have to wait with me.”
“I want to. I miss Mr. Janks, too.”
The sun was getting hot when we finally gave up. I held Sid's hand as we walked up the steps to go back into the house. He didn't even pull his hand away. He just looked out the window the whole day long.
I stayed close to the house that day. Sid wouldn't eat or skateboard or hang out with his friends. We played checkers all day long.
He didn't even come to the dinner table that night.
I told my mom and dad about Mr. Janks. It had been three days since he last showed up. Dad said, “If he doesn't come tomorrow, we'll go to his house.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Sid said. He'd been standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
Sid smiled and looked happier than he had in days, but we all were worried.
Mr. Janks lives in a little vine-covered house past the old mill, a couple of miles from Magnolia Street. Me and Sid rode our bikes to his house. Dad said he'd drive to Mr. Janks's house when he was done mowing the lawn, in about twenty minutes.
Sid said, “I've been here before. Mr. Janks taught me to play chess last summer. He also let me feed Sweet Shirley. She loves apples.”
We wouldn't do anything until Dad got there, so we sat in Mr. Janks's honeysuckle-filled front yard and watched the butterflies cover everything, even us.
Sweet Shirley started braying in the back, though, so we had to go see about her.
We found her in the little barn behind Mr. Janks's house. When she saw us, she got excited and started running back and forth in her stall. She ran up to us and nibbled at our hands.
We petted Sweet Shirley for a while, and she calmed down.
But, Lump and Billy, I have to tell you, my dad almost scared us to death when he came into the barn.
“Hi, kids,” he said. He came over and petted Sweet Shirley. “Mr. Janks is pretty sick. He's going to have to go to the hospital.”
Sid looked so scared. “Will he be okay?” he asked.
Dad petted Sweet Shirley some more and said, “I hope so.”
The ambulance came for Mr. Janks. He looked very sick when they took him away, but he asked me and Sid to take care of Sweet Shirley. We told him we would.
So that's what we did.
We made sure she went for walks and got all the apples she wanted. I loved taking care of her. Most important, though, was that me and Sid shared taking care of Sweet Shirley. We never fought, or even made fun of each other.
Sid visited Sweet Shirley in the morning, and I took care of her in the afternoon. We both were with her in the evening. She liked the company, but we could tell she missed Mr. Janks.
She would suddenly look past us when she heard a noise. Then she would sort of gallop—thinking it was Mr. Janks. It was sad. She missed Mr. Janks so bad. And if she was missing him, he was probably missing her, too.
Poor Mr. Janks and Sweet Shirley.
Well, guys, we couldn't visit Mr. Janks in the hospital because me and Sid caught colds walking Sweet Shirley in the rain. Mom didn't think it would be good for Mr. Janks to catch a cold. But Mr. Janks sent us a note. It said:
Thank you, Sid and Charlie.
You are doing a kind thing taking
care of Sweet Shirley. You are
also helping me get well. Hello to
Sweet Shirley. Tell her I miss her.
Mr. Janks
We had t
o do something about Mr. Janks and Shirley. Dad said it would be a while before Mr. Janks got out of the hospital.
Sid and I thought about what we could do. We thought for a long time.
We couldn't take Shirley to the hospital, and Mr. Janks couldn't even get up to see her at the window if we did.
Sid said we should sleep on it.
That worked! 'Cause the next morning I had an idea for how Mr. Janks could see Sweet Shirley.
Remember when we made piñatas?
It took me and Sid a long time to make a Sweet Shirley piñata.
We had to go all over town to find a balloon big enough for Sweet Shirley's body. And we must have used all the newspaper in the neighborhood to glue onto the balloons. Everyone was helpful and gave us paints and anything we asked for.
Even Mr. Warren (the vampire) gave us rope that we needed. He said he likes Mr. Janks. He buys strawberries from him all the time.
Mom and Dad let us stay up late until the piñata was done. The next morning, there was Sweet Shirley life-size in our front yard on Magnolia Street.
Everybody in the neighborhood came out to see her.
Miss Marcia tied Sweet Shirley to the top of her pickup. And, boy, was it a sight—a mule flying down Magnolia Street.
Sweet Shirley was beautiful, and she had wings. She'd need them if she was going to be hoisted down from the hospital roof so Mr. Janks could see her.
And that's what Dad and a couple of orderlies did.
We stood outside Mr. Janks's room as Sweet Shirley flew down from the roof and hung in front of his window for a while. Mr. Janks laughed and laughed. He'd missed her so much, and you know, it sounds silly, but that evening for the first time since Mr. Janks had gone into the hospital, the real Sweet Shirley seemed happy, too.
So, guys, that's what's been happening on Magnolia Street. Something else happened, too, that's kind of strange. Yesterday Sid asked me if I wanted to ride bikes with him up to the park. And afterward—you won't believe this—he broke his candy bar in half and shared it with me.…
You never know what's going to come down Magnolia Street.
It's not camp, but it's okay.
Love,
Charlie
Published by Yearling, an imprint of Random House Children's Books
a division of Random House, Inc., New York
Text copyright © 1999 by Angela Johnson
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eISBN: 978-0-307-48794-0
December 2005
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