by Lindsay Eyre
While Miranda ran inside the house, I thought about what to say to her. Could you open my present now? Because I’m starting to feel sick. But that wouldn’t work. Miranda had three thermometers and a magnifying glass in her castle/laboratory, and she’d want to take my temperature and see my throat.
I pulled the wagon over to the garage. I’d have to leave before Miranda opened my present. I wouldn’t be able to see her face when she took off the blanket. But I didn’t want to see Georgie until Albert was back home.
“Hey, Scruggs,” came a voice from behind me.
No way. I closed my eyes. Disappear, I thought. Go back home. Forever and ever and ever.
“What’s with the wagon?” Georgie said.
“I like wagons.” That was Josh’s voice.
Georgie took a step closer so I could see him out of the corner of my eye. He was holding the horrible silver box. “We still haven’t found Dave Thomas, founder of Wendy’s. I’m really worried — he must be starving. He probably hasn’t eaten for days.”
I turned away so Georgie couldn’t see my face. I’d given Albert water and food. Lots of food — even ice cream. Albert was fine. Perfectly fine.
The garage door began to rise.
“Miranda invited us over to help fill water balloons,” Josh said.
Georgie nodded. “So I wouldn’t worry about Dave so much.” I turned to look at him then. He didn’t sound very worried. He didn’t look very worried. His cheeks weren’t wet and his eyes weren’t red like they should be. “What’s under the blanket?” he said.
“Don’t touch it,” Josh and I said.
Miranda ran through the garage and onto the driveway. “That’s my present from Sylvie,” she told Georgie. “She’s going to hide it in the garage. Wow, that’s big.”
Miranda was not pointing to my castle as she said this. She was pointing to the silver box. Her face muscles looked impressed all over again.
Georgie shrugged. “And heavy. Can I put it inside?”
Miranda nodded happily and motioned us toward the garage door. Georgie went first, like this was his house and his birthday party.
I looked over at my house, where Albert was waiting patiently to go home. The twins were watching him for me in the fort. If I left him on Georgie’s porch right now, there was a chance Dagger might get him. Or a raccoon or a cat. I could stay at Miranda’s for a little while longer. Georgie wouldn’t know Albert was back until he got home anyway.
“You go ahead,” Josh said, making me jump.
For just a few minutes, I thought, before running after Georgie.
Birthday parties were a big deal at Miranda’s. Her mom decorated the front porch and the hallways and the backyard. The table was set with special napkins, plates, and cups, and there was always a fancy cake ordered from the bakery. (Birthday parties at my house were not a big deal. My mom made a cake from a box, had us play tag outside, and let us watch a movie after we opened presents. When I complained about the unfairness of this, my mom said I could move to an only-child family any day I wanted to.)
My whole body tingled as I walked inside and looked around. The Tans’ house had been transformed into Insect World for the party. Miranda’s giant bugs hung on the walls and from the ceiling. The house plants had been moved into the family room, and green and brown crepe paper and balloons were everywhere you looked. It was a bug jungle.
Miranda assigned Georgie and Josh to fill up water balloons in the backyard with the hose. Then she asked me to stay inside with her to get the games ready, which made me tingle all over again.
Soon the five other girls Miranda had invited to the party arrived, giggling, congratulating Miranda on turning nine, and talking about the other birthday parties they had gone to that year. Even though I hadn’t gone to any of them.
I should go now, I thought. I could say I forgot something, run home, drop off Albert, and come back to the party. But before everyone had even set down their presents, Miranda announced that it was time for games. “I’ll need your help, Sylvie,” she said.
“I can help,” Georgie said.
“No, I can,” I said. “I can help.”
“You can both help,” Miranda said. And we both sort of did, except I helped way better than Georgie, who seemed to have forgotten about Albert.
The games did not go well. Here is what happened:
Fishing Game
(where Mrs. Tan stands behind a blue sheet and we fish for presents)
I pulled up a rubber fly on my first try, a rubber mosquito on my second try, and a coconut-flavored lollipop on my third try. It was a huge coconut-flavored lollipop, but whoever makes coconut-flavored lollipops must actually think that coconut-flavored lollipops taste good. They do not. Georgie pulled up a chocolate gold coin on his first try, a chocolate gold coin on his second try, and a bag of chocolate gold coins on his third try. Mrs. Tan must have thought he was a pirate, which makes sense because he ate up all the coins in front of everyone without sharing.
Score: Sylvie — a big fat zero; Georgie — a big fat chocolate head.
Insect Charades
(a game where you act out particular kinds of insects)
I got stuck with Savannah, Rita, and Haley — whispery girls who never tell you what they’re saying. Georgie got Josh, Miranda, Anna, and Jasmine — the kind of people who probably practice charades for fun. I had to act out a cicada and no one on my team knew what a cicada was. Not even me. Georgie had to act out a praying mantis. All he did was pretend to pray.
Score: Sylvie’s Team — one (because Haley knew how to be a killer bee); Georgie’s Team — five (because Miranda was on his team and she’s practically an insectologist).
“I have to run home for a second,” I told Miranda when charades were over.
But she wasn’t listening. “Time for Water Balloon Dodgeball!”
“Water Balloon Dodgeball?” I said. We’d never played that before. “What’s that?”
“It’s Georgie’s idea,” Miranda said.
“It’s awesome, Scruggs,” Georgie said. “But you might not want to play. Water balloons are even harder to throw than baseballs.”
Everything inside me went tight at those words. I was like a leopard ready to spring. “I can throw anything better than you,” I said.
“Not a baseball,” Georgie said.
Everyone went quiet. Even the whispery girls.
“I can definitely throw a water balloon better than you,” I said.
“Are they mad at each other?” Anna whispered to Jasmine.
“I think so,” Jasmine said.
“Sylvie?” Miranda said, like she wasn’t too sure about this.
But at that moment, I didn’t care. I didn’t care what those whispery girls said, and I didn’t even care what Miranda said. I was mad. Georgie was trying to make me look stupid. He was trying to steal my best friend, my only best friend, right out from under my chin. “You don’t deserve Albert,” I muttered.
“Huh?” Georgie said.
Minutes later, the two teams were lined up, facing each other over no-man’s-land, a strip of lawn no one could cross during the game. Josh was on my team. Miranda was on Georgie’s. Everyone had a balloon in their hands.
When Georgie blew the whistle he’d brought just for this, I picked up a water balloon and hurled it right at his face. It missed his face, but hit him smack in the stomach.
Ha, I thought. Then I said it out loud. “Ha!”
While I was saying “Ha!” again, Georgie threw his water balloon at me. I ducked, and it hit Josh in the arm, breaking apart and soaking his shirt.
I looked at Georgie and ha’d one more time. His smirk turned into a look of rage.
He picked up another water balloon and so did I.
I chucked mine hard and got him again, first try. He pitched one at me, and it nearly got me, but I did a side-somersault roll, the kind you see on TV, and it missed.
Ha.
The fighting continued like that:
Georgie trying to get me, me trying to get Georgie, Josh trying to get Georgie too, Miranda and the whispery girls throwing balloons at anything that moved. Not a single balloon touched me the entire game. Not Georgie’s. Not Miranda’s. Not anyone’s. And it wasn’t just because Josh kept getting in my way, though Georgie said it was.
When Mrs. Tan poked her head out of the kitchen to call us for lunch, the score was obvious. Georgie’s shirt was soaked and most of his shorts. Even his hair was drippy.
I was completely dry, and if you are dry at the end of Water Balloon Dodgeball, you win.
There were still two water balloons left in Georgie’s bucket and one in mine. I picked mine up. “Think you can dodge this?” I said to Georgie.
Georgie picked up both of his, and with a roar, he crossed no-man’s-land and ran right at me.
I am a better pitcher than Georgie, but he is a better runner, so even though I turned and ran as fast as I could, Georgie was right behind me, his footsteps pounding in my ears.
Dodgeball had worn me out more than I thought. My legs were weak. It hurt to breathe. But I couldn’t give up. If I stopped, or worse, fell, Georgie wouldn’t hesitate. He would throw both of his balloons right at me, and I’d be too exhausted to do anything about it.
We were almost to the back fence when I tripped. I fell right on my face, twisting my ankle and scraping my leg. There wasn’t time to run away, so I covered my head and my face and waited for Georgie to clobber me with his water balloons.
But he did not. “Geez, Scruggs. Are you all right?”
I lowered my arms enough to peek up at him. Both of the water balloons were in his left hand. His right hand was out, not like he wanted to arm-wrestle me, but like he wanted to help me up.
“Did you hurt your foot?” he said when I didn’t move.
I didn’t know what to do. It might be a trick, so I got to my feet as fast as I could. “I’m okay,” I said. This was not exactly true. My ankle hurt a lot. A lot, a lot. But I didn’t want Georgie to know this.
“Miranda,” Mrs. Tan shouted from the kitchen window. “Will you please gather your friends at the picnic table?”
Georgie dropped his water balloons. They splatted on the ground — splash, splash.
“Are you all right, Sylvie?” Miranda called.
“Yes,” I said, pretending not to limp as I headed toward her and away from Georgie. I didn’t want him to laugh as he watched me go. “I’m fine,” I said. “Perfectly fine.”
But I wasn’t fine. The birthday party would be over soon, and I was running out of time to return Albert. Plus my ankle really hurt. I wouldn’t be able to run across the street with Albert in his box. I wouldn’t be able to drop it on the porch and get out of there as fast as I could. I’d have to hobble away as fast as I could, which might not be fast enough.
I was debating what to do when I saw my brothers’ faces in Miranda’s dining room window. They looked at me, then at each other. Then their faces disappeared.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Miranda, who was already sitting down at the picnic table. By Georgie.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded when I found my brothers in the kitchen.
“Don’t worry,” Tate said. “Mom’s at the doctor’s and Albert is safe.”
“He’s way safe,” Cale said. “Safer than ever. It’s for a surprise.”
“But don’t worry,” Tate said. “He’s having fun. Way more fun than in the closet.”
“Mom’s at the doctor’s?” I said. “Did she have a doctor’s appointment?”
Mrs. Tan came into the room. She stopped fast at the sight of me. “Oh, Sylvie,” she said. “I haven’t had a second to tell you — and here are the twins.” She was smiling, and I couldn’t tell if it was a pretend-things-are-all-right kind of smile or a real one. “Your mother was having some funny pains, so your father’s taken her to the doctor to check on the baby. I told him to send the twins over here.”
“Pains?” I said. Okay, shrieked.
Mrs. Tan put an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t look like that, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“No, it’s not!” I said. “Pains are bad. You aren’t supposed to have pains when you’re pregnant. Something must be wrong!”
Mrs. Tan gave me a squeeze. “Your dad thinks it’s just indigestion, but your mother wanted to be sure. Really, Sylvie, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“What’s indigestion?” I demanded.
Mrs. Tan explained about indigestion and heartburn and what it feels like to be pregnant with a baby smashing your stomach. This was gross, but important. My mom had eaten four pieces of meat-lover’s pizza for dinner last night, and she probably had a piece for breakfast. Indigestion made sense.
Mrs. Tan gave me a squeeze. “Now, I don’t want you to worry about a thing. I’ll update you when your father calls, and, boys, I’ve got some serious movies planned for you, but first, we’re going to play with the gerbils and eat cake and ice cream and lunch in the playroom, away from the big kids. Sound good?”
Cale nodded because he loved cake and ice cream and staying away from big kids. Tate shook his head. “I don’t like serious movies,” he said. “But I’ll play with the gerbils.”
“I will escort them down to the playroom,” I said.
“All right,” Mrs. Tan said. “But, boys, remember. Your mother said no more permanent markers. No paint. You’re not allowed to draw anything on your hands or faces. Or arms or legs. Or any part of your skin.” She squinted at their bright pink cheeks and the faint black marks left over from last night.
“They will be skin-free,” I said. Then I walked them down the hall as fast as my ankle would let me. “What happened?” I demanded. “Tell me everything.”
Cale looked at Tate. Tate looked at me. “Mom was making lots of loud noises. Kind of like a horse.”
Cale nodded. “And Dad was running around, looking for Tums.”
“They were too busy to notice Albert,” Tate said. “So we put him in Mom’s bag.”
“So we could do our surprise,” Cale said. “Albert really likes bags. He made his funny gurgling noises as soon as we put him in there.”
“You put him in Mom’s bag?” Mom kept her hospital bag in the entryway. Just in case.
“Yeah, but Mom and Dad didn’t see us do it. We were supersneaky.”
“But where did you put the bag?” I cried. “Did you leave it in the entryway?”
“No,” Tate said, like he would never do something that stupid.
“We left the bag in the garage,” Cale said.
“In the garage?” I pictured them sticking the bag inside the garage. Dad would see it and toss it in the car. Then Mom would bring it inside the doctor’s office. Albert would escape from the bag and begin running around a building full of sick people. He’d be chased by nurses with beeping machines, or doctors with big fat needles.
“Did we use the gray bag or black bag?” Cale asked Tate. “I can’t remember.”
Tate scrunched up his nose like he was thinking. “What gray bag?”
“You know,” Cale said. “The one that’s all gray. Not black.”
Hands on my hips, I bent over so I could look them both right in the face. “Where is Albert?”
“Sylvie!” Mrs. Tan said, coming into the playroom. “They’re waiting for you outside. And boys, I’ve got the gerbils and the movies and the yummy food ready. What do you say?”
“Sylvie’s pinching my elbow,” Tate said. “And it hurts.”
“Oh!” I said, nicely brushing off his arm. “Sorry. I didn’t see your elbow there. I guess I’ll go outside now.” I looked at Tate. He looked at me. “You can tell me more about Albert later,” I said.
“No, I can’t,” he said, eyebrows wiggling. “It’s a surprise.”
* * *
Lunch took forever. I ate it because if I didn’t, Miranda would be suspicious, but nothing tasted good. Except the Tater Tots. Albert was missing
: maybe in a gray bag, maybe in a black bag. Maybe in the garage, maybe with my parents, maybe dead at the doctor’s.
I needed to get home and get into the garage somehow. Maybe I could smash a brick through the garage window and save Albert before my parents found him.
When we’d finally finished the cake and ice cream, I said, “I need to go check on something at home.”
“What do you need to check?” Miranda said.
“Time to open presents!” Mrs. Tan called from the kitchen door. “I was going to have you come inside, but everyone’s still too wet, so the presents are out on the driveway. Are you ready?”
“Yes!” Miranda cried. Then she looked at me. “Can you wait to go home until after we open presents? I’m so excited to see what’s in the wagon.”
I started to shake my head. I couldn’t wait. It was now or never.
“Please?” Miranda said.
On the driveway stood a stack of presents and a chair for Miranda. Mrs. Tan had laid a blanket out beside the chair for the rest of us to sit and watch the great present opening.
“We’ll get the wagon out last,” Miranda said as I sat down on a corner of the blanket. “Is that all right?”
No, I thought. Do it first, so I can go home. “Sure,” I said with a worn-out sigh. Even if my parents had left our garage unlocked, and I found Albert there in the bag, I couldn’t take him over to Georgie’s. Not with everyone sitting on Miranda’s driveway. They’d see me walking down the street. They’d see me walking across the street. They would see me and know I was up to no good.
Miranda began opening her gifts one by one. There was a real live karaoke machine, pom-poms, a fashion-design kit, and nail polish.
“Has my dad called?” I asked Mrs. Tan when this lame-o present had been opened.
Mrs. Tan shook her head at me. “Not yet.”
Then Josh handed Miranda his gift. Miranda tore off the wrapping paper. It was a stuffed sea anemone. Josh pointed to the tag. “It’s from the endangered species catalogue,” he said. “When you buy one, you help save a real sea anemone.”
