"Sorry," she said to Pete, "but Daddy says he's in no condition to see you right now." Again the toilet flushed. How had Jackie done that? Had she rigged the toilet? Or got one of the cats to help? "He's still, er, busy."
"It could be contagious," Petal added seriously. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to you, Mr. Pete."
He looked at all of us closely. It was like he knew something was up ... but had no idea what.
"If that's the way it's going to be," he finally said. Then he reached into his tattered jeans and fished out a wrinkled business card. It said Pete's Repairs and Auto Wrecking and had a phone number on it.
"Look," he said, handing the card to Annie, "if you ever need any help with anything—if, you know, your dad doesn't come back from the toilet or your mom never comes back from, um, France—give me a call, okay?"
"Oh ... sure," Annie said. "But that won't happen. Everything's just fine here. Well ... thanks!"
***
A few minutes later, we watched as Pete's van backed out of the driveway, and we all gave a collective sigh of relief.
"That was close," Durinda said. "He definitely suspected something."
"True," Marcia said. "We've discovered a chink in our armor. When we're out in the world, we can fake things okay enough, but if someone comes here—well, we don't do so hot. We act too nervous."
"I can't argue with that," Annie said, "but even though Pete suspects something's not quite perfect here, he doesn't really know anything. And besides..." Her voice trailed off.
"Yes?" Rebecca prompted.
"Something very valuable came out of the day," Annie said.
"And that is?" Rebecca prompted again.
Annie smiled. "Now we know how to drive a car." She paused and thought about it." "Well, sort of."
CHAPTER SIX
Annie stuck Pete's card to the fridge with a magnet, and it was as though it acted like a good angel, watching over our home. This peaceful state lasted all too briefly.
We awoke on Sunday to Annie ripping off our bedcovers and announcing, "Today we will go shopping!"
This caused a flurry of excitement. For the first time in more than two weeks we would be leaving our home to go somewhere other than school, and we would get there using something other than a bus or our feet.
"Where are we going to go?" we repeatedly asked while hurriedly brushing our teeth, putting on clothes, gulping our breakfast.
But Annie, drinking a cup of coffee—a new habit she had started that day and one that caused her to make funny faces—wouldn't say at first.
"The mall?" Rebecca guessed.
"Too common," Annie said.
"The great big drugstore where they also sell toys?" Zinnia guessed.
Annie looked down her nose so sharply, she might have been the McG. "Would you like to get your birthday present from a place where they sell toothbrushes and bad-tummy medicine?"
She made a good point.
"Where, then?" Jackie asked. "We could make Will something..."
"Don't be ridiculous," Annie said. "You know we'd never be able to agree on what to make. Petal would want to make him something like paper flowers, while Georgia would want to make him a miniature guillotine."
"But that could work," Marcia said, pouring Annie a second cup of joe. "Will would wind up with two presents instead of just one. And anyway, he could always dead-head the paper flowers with the guillotine."
"Perhaps," Annie conceded. "But I have something grander in mind."
We leaned forward breathlessly. "What?"
"The Grand Emporium of Children's Delights," Annie said.
We each let out a gasp.
The Grand Emporium of Children's Delights was one of the biggest toy stores in the world, rumored to have everything any child could want.
"We've never been there before!" Rebecca said.
"I've always wanted to go!" Zinnia squealed.
"Mommy always said that that sort of excess is bad for children," Marcia observed. Which was true, and which was why we had never been there.
"Well"—Annie winced at a gulp of coffee, then winked—"we're going now."
But first she said we had to help her get ready.
"If I'm to be the driver," Annie said, and none of us argued with her that she shouldn't, "then I'll need a disguise. We certainly don't want people all over town calling the police to inform them there's an eight-year-old driving a Hummer."
We didn't bother to correct her and say that she wasn't eight yet, none of us were, and the day we would be eight was still nearly seven months away. We were too excited for quibbles.
"Do you want me to go get your spear?" Rebecca asked.
"I don't think," Annie said, "that my riding around with a medieval weapon in my hand would do anything to deflect nosy people's suspicions. No, I was thinking along the lines of something subtle..."
Which was how we all found ourselves in the tower room, which in happier times was our playroom, going through our old costume trunk.
Annie rejected princess costumes and a witch's costume, which disappointed Georgia, who had had her heart set on Annie being a witch.
Georgia was still grumpy over that when we reached the bottom of the trunk and Annie pulled out something that made her shout, "Perfect!"
The white shirt, skinny black tie, and black jacket were all one piece, and there was separate dark trousers. Annie wore it whenever we played wedding.
"I still look too much like me," she said to the mirror. "I'll need a hat."
Before any of us could go off to fetch her one, however, Anthrax strolled in with one of Daddy's hats on her head, the hat being much larger than the cat. Daddy had a huge collection of old-fashioned hats and we'd heard him refer to this one as a fedora.
"Thank you, Anthrax," Annie said, removing the hat from the cat.
"Have you noticed," Marcia observed, "that Anthrax is smarter than she used to be? It was as though she just anticipated what Annie needed was one of Daddy's hats, and she found the perfect hat at that."
"The other cats have told me," Zinnia said, "that lately Anthrax is bossier than she used to be."
We wondered if the cats really talked to the Zinnia.
"Do you think," Georgia asked Annie, "your power is rubbing off on your cat?"
"I honestly couldn't say," Annie said, distracted, "but this disguise definitely still needs something..."
That was when Anthrax leaped into the trunk, made lots of rattling noises as though she were chasing her own tail or fighting with another creature, then emerged with something hairy clasped in her jaws.
"What's she got?" Rebecca reeled back. "Is that a rat?"
"No, it's not a rat," Annie said with a smile, bending down to take the hairy something from Anthrax's jaws. She patted Anthrax, then took the hairy something and attached it to her upper lip. It was a fake mustache, we saw, as she studied herself one last time. "It's perfection."
And it was.
"Prepare the car," Annie instructed Durinda. "It's time to roll."
But preparing the car was easier said than done.
It was simple enough for Durinda to start the Hummer, per Annie's instructions, but a lot less simple for Annie to drive it.
"I cant see over the dashboard," Annie said.
So we all trundled back inside, looking for boosters. At last, we settled on Mommy's Oxford English Dictionary as being just the ticket, but it was so heavy Zinnia, Petal, and Jackie had to carry it out in separate volumes.
But once Annie could see over the dashboard, she could no longer reach the pedals.
"We'll just have to rig up some sort of device," Durinda suggested.
Annie was in no mood for reason.
"This is taking too long!" she said. "If I wait for you to rig up some sort of ... device, it'll be dark. And I can't drive in the dark, not my first time!"
Her lip actually quivered at that last, as though she were on the verge of tears, which scared us very much.
"Fine," Durinda said soothingly. "I'll just get down here on the floor beneath your legs, like so, and you tell me when you want me to hit the gas to go and hit the brakes to stop. Will that work?"
We can't say it worked like a charm, and the ride was hair-raising—we had to rely on Durinda blindly following instructions to "Give it more gas!" and "Hit the brakes!"—but at least it got us there.
"It's ... grand," Zinnia said with awestruck eyes, gazing upward.
"It's the most amazingly grand place I've ever seen!" Petal amended.
"Let's go inside," Annie said.
"Aren't you going to change first?" Rebecca said to Annie. "Didn't you bring any normal clothes to go shopping in?"
"No," Annie said.
"But you look ridiculous," Rebecca pointed out.
"Maybe." Annie smiled. "But there is method to my ridiculousness."
Once inside, we couldn't settle down to shopping for Will right away. There was too much to look at, too much to touch and no parent there to say, "Don't touch," too much to play with.
There was the jungle area, with oversize stuffed animals and a gorilla that was a story tall. There was the dollhouse area, fully equipped with child-size houses and dolls. There was the magic area, with everything you could want for turning a toad into a prince or an enemy into a toad.
"Is this pretty wand and book of potions in our budget?" Zinnia asked.
"'Fraid not today," Annie said gently. "Too bad. I imagine spells and potions would come in handy now." Then she hustled us to the third floor of the store, where they sold mostly boy things and which we thought would be boring but that totally was not.
"I'm thinking something involving bats and balls," Marcia said.
"I'm thinking something that makes lots of noise," Jackie said.
"And I'm thinking," Annie said, "that we need to get him something stupendous."
"But why?" Rebecca asked.
"Because," Annie said, "when he comes to our parties, he always brings us eight presents. He deserves something grand."
"Well, he likes hockey..." Jackie's voice trailed off.
And that's when we saw it.
The Super-Duper Faux-Hockey Mash-'Em Smash-'Em Reality Toy Kit.
"It's perfect!" Annie said.
As we studied the gigantic box with her, we realized that it was. It had everything—its own facemasks and shin guards and hockey sticks—and it even came with its own miniature indoor rink and instructions on how to create a winter wonderland in the basement of any normal-size home.
"It really is perfect!" Durinda said. "Any boy would love one of these."
"Well, Will certainly would," Annie said.
"But who will he play it with?" Durinda asked. "Will's an only child."
Annie shrugged. "I'd be happy to play this with him after school sometimes, wouldn't you?"
We all agreed that would be the best.
But when it came time to go pay for it, we realized the box of the one on display was badly torn, so Annie went to find a salesperson to see if a nicer one could be found.
It was while we were waiting for her to return that disaster struck.
Jackie was investigating the kit for turning enemies into toads when she felt a long finger tap on her shoulder. Turning slowly around, she was horrified to see it was ... the McG!
"Hello, Eight," the McG said to her. "What are you doing here?"
"M-m-m-me?" Jackie said. "What are you doing here?"
The McG waved something in her hand.
"Getting a present for Will," the McG said. "His birthday is coming up and I always try to get a little something for my good students."
We could see from the size of the object in her hand, the shape of a deck of cards but not as thick, that it really was a little something.
"You never said though," the McG said, "what are you all doing here?"
"Ohhhh." Jackie twisted her fingers together as she strained to think of something, deciding on the truth for once. "We're shopping for Will too."
"How lovely," the McG said. "And where are your poor parents?" The McG scanned the store, looking over the top of Jackie's head.
"They're modeling and in France," Jackie said quickly, sticking to part of the lie we'd tried out on Pete.
"They're both modeling in France?" The McG raised an eyebrow.
"No, of course not." Jackie laughed nervously. "Did I say that? I meant to say Daddy's modeling in France while Mommy is ... Mommy is..."
"Mommy is looking for a salesperson to get a better one of these for Will," Rebecca put in, inspiration striking her as she saw Annie walking back. Rebecca indicated the hockey kit.
"My, that is an impressive toy," the McG said coolly while, behind her back, Georgia gestured for Annie to go hide. It wouldn't do for the McG to see Annie disguised as a man with no parents in sight.
"And where is Annie?" the McG asked, looking around again.
"She's ... she's ... she has a dreadful stomach virus," Jackie said, once again relying on the lie we'd told Pete, only this time applying it to a different family member.
"I see," the McG said. "And who is taking care of her if your father is modeling in France and your mother is here with you?"
We couldn't very well say Annie was home alone, could we? Then the McG would question our parents' fitness to parent us. So Jackie said the only thing anyone could say.
"Oh, Annie's here too," Jackie said brightly. "Mommy was going to take her to the bathroom again before going off to find that salesperson. Hmm, I wonder what could be keeping them?"
At the mention of Annie being in the store and ill, the McG's lip curled.
"I really have to go pay for this," she said hurriedly, waving the thin deck of cards again. "I've a lot to do today. Please give my best to your poor mother and tell Annie I hope she feels better. And, for God's sake, if she's still feeling badly tomorrow, tell her to stay home from school."
"Oh," Jackie said with a smile, relaxing now that the McG was hurrying away from us, "I'm sure Annie will be better by then."
***
Once the McG was gone, it was safe for Annie to come back. She had secured a nicer hockey kit, and we made our way to the cash registers.
When it came time to actually arrange payment for our purchase, we saw that Annie had thought of everything. She pulled out one of Daddy's credit cards and offered it to the stunned sales clerk.
The woman in her red smock and badly dyed blond hair looked at Annie in her suit, hat, and mustache.
But Annie refused to be stared down.
"What's the matter," Annie said in her Daddy voice, "haven't you ever seen a midget, old chap? You know, it is jolly rude to stare..."
In the end, the embarrassed clerk ran the credit card through the register, apologizing profusely as she handed Annie a pen and the credit card slip, on the bottom of which Annie forged Robert Huit.
Annie really had thought of everything.
On the way home, she even remembered to stop for kibble for the cats.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When we arrived back home, we decided we should celebrate the success of our first adventure out.
First, we got out many of our own toys and played as we hadn't done since before Mommy and Daddy's disappearance.
"Or death," as Rebecca dourly put in.
Then, when we grew tired of board games and dolls and bouncy boots and Yahtzee—Jackie kept winning—we decided to play dress-up. Raiding the trunk in the tower room again, we emerged with Marcia and Jackie as fairies, Petal and Zinnia as princesses, Georgia as a witch, Rebecca as a jester, and Durinda in one of Mommy's old ball gowns. We all decided that since Annie already had her costume on, she should keep it that way.
But it had been a long day, with lots of pressures and worries, and no sooner were we in costume than we realized we were famished.
"What's for dinner?" Georgia asked Durinda. "Can you make us another one of those turkey things?"
But Annie said it wouldn
't be a celebration for Durinda if she had to work. For once, we could eat what we wanted and forget the wretched food pyramid.
The idea of eating what we wanted was almost too good to bear.
"Perhaps," Zinnia offered timidly, "Durinda could be persuaded to work just long enough to pop a frozen pizza into the oven for us?"
Frozen pizza may not sound exciting, but to us, after two weeks of Annie's insisting we eat balanced meals with fruits and veggies, it sounded like heaven.
"Oh, yes, please!" Petal and Jackie cried. "May we? May we?"
Seven of us voted for the pizza, and we got our wish, but one of us wanted something different.
"You did say we could have whatever we wanted, didn't you?" Rebecca said pointedly to Annie. When Annie nodded, Rebecca got a chair, climbed on the counter, and reached for the highest cabinet.
"Ta-da!" she said, producing a can of pink ready-to-spread frosting.
We suspected then that Rebecca had been waiting her whole life for our parents to disappear so that she could eat an entire can of pink frosting. Next thing you know, she'd be doing gymnastics on her bed.
This suspicion deepened when, having eaten more than half of the frosting, Rebecca got a case of the hypers, bouncing all around us as we tried to consume our frozen pizza. She wasn't even using bouncy boots.
Rebecca was flying down the banister of the staircase—she'd already swung from the chandelier in the dining room—when the doorbell rang.
"Who could that be?" Marcia asked. "No one ever rings our doorbell."
Since Rebecca was the only one standing, it was she who went to the door. She peeked through the curtained window, and there was a sight that was enough to put fear into any child.
It was a giant toadstool.
Well, not a real toadstool. It was a person shaped like a toadstool. The person was an adult, but short enough to be a child, with coal black eyes, a fright of spiky yellow hair, a very plump body, and short legs that looked like they couldn't run fast but could kick hard. The person had on khaki pants and a red shirt with polka dots—no coat, despite the cold.
Annie's Adventures Page 5
