“They’re so—” Abby searched for the right word “—brand new. Do you think they’ll stay here?”
Katy rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think that mother’s going anywhere. Not just yet, at least.”
After breakfast, Abby read through a book from the infirmary library. called Wildlife Pets. The mice must be deer mice, she realized from the pictures, since the mother was tan—sort of the color of toast—and had a creamy white belly with dainty white feet. Several times Abby stopped to drop off snacks and peek in at the tiny brood. It amazed her how stone still the mouse lay while the babies drank her milk. And the skin on the babies. Abby couldn’t get over it. It was so tissue-thin that when they nursed, she could actually see the milk gurgling around inside their stomachs.
“You think Bambi’s a good name for the mother mouse?” asked Abby later on while Katy slathered her with another coating of Calamine lotion. “I thought of it because she’s a deer mouse.”
“That’s a nice name,” Katy answered recapping the bottle. “Those mice are lucky to have such a responsible girl looking after them.”
Responsible! thought Abby. That’s a laugh. But really it was nice to hear Katy say it anyway.
After dinner the infirmary phone jangled loudly.
Katy picked it up. “Hold on just one minute,” she said and handed the receiver to Abby.
“Honey! How are you?” the familiar voice crackled over the phone.
“Ma!” Abby cried in a wavery voice.
“Aunt Tillie just called. Poor baby. What rotten luck.
Well, at least—No, Emily, you can’t talk yet—at least, you’ll be out soon. Do you feel just awful, honey?”
“Well, they just took me off the critical list,” Abby said. If she didn’t joke now, she knew she would burst out crying. Then she’d have to tell Ma and Daddy just how miserable she was.
“Now that’s my girl,” Daddy said, laughing. “Boy do I miss you. The apartment seems so quiet. Neat, yes! But awfully quiet.”
That did it. Abby felt like a button had been pushed inside her. Her throat closed with the start of tears and, without meaning to, she spilled out everything. “I’m so unhappy here,” she wailed. “I hate it. It’s nothing like I thought it was going to be. It’s so strict and everybody hates me.” Abby rushed on. “If only Merle were here.”
“But Merle isn’t, and you are.” Ma didn’t sound angry or surprised, but she said firmly, “You must learn to make the best of situations even when they don’t turn out like you want.” Then Ma’s voice grew soft. “Listen, honey. You don’t think we like to see you unhappy, do you?”
“Then let me come home,” Abby cried. There. She had said it.
“Now, Abby, stop it,” Daddy said quietly. “I don’t want to hear talk like that. Who ever got anywhere by quitting? Look at Eleanor Roosevelt. Look at Golda Meir. Look at Fritzi Winkelhoff....”
“Fritzi Winkelhoff? I never heard of her.”
“Of course you haven’t—she’s the one who quit!”
“Oh, Dad-dy,” Abby groaned and sniffled. She could feel the Calamine on her face getting all gooey from her tears. “You’re a real wit. A—”
“Half-wit. I know, I know.” It was an old joke between them. “But you think about it anyway. Now we’re going to get off and put your sister on before she rips the phone out of the socket.”
“Who poisoned you?” Emily asked right away.
“Nobody, silly.” Abby reached for a Kleenex and honked into it loudly. “I have poison ivy. It’s a rash and it makes you itch.”
“Oh.”
“Well, don’t sound so disappointed.”
“Abby, I get to sleep in your room now.” Emily sounded triumphant. “Mommy said I could.”
“You better be out by the time I come home.”
“That’s not for a long time.”
“I know,” said Abby miserably. “You don’t have to rub it in.”
A minute later, everybody said goodbye. Click. They were gone, and Abby felt a hundred times worse. I wish they hadn’t called, she thought, making a beeline for her bed. She did not even stop to look in on the mice. If there were one thing she couldn’t take right now, it was the sight of all that family togetherness.
8
THE NEXT MORNING Abby—and the mice—were released from the infirmary. Her charges were still nestled in the bureau drawer as Abby timidly entered Buttercup. The mice were so lovable. She hoped somehow they would help make up for the ruined picnic; she hoped they would become bunk mascots.
The bunk was empty except for Marty who was engrossed in a game of gin with Josie, the counselor from Bluebell.
“Everybody’s at badminton,” Marty informed Abby, not even bothering to look up from her cards. “And you’d better get over there, too.”
“I will. Right away.” Abby smiled her most winning smile. “But first I have a teeny favor to ask.”
But Marty would hear none of it. She insisted Abby get rid of “those vermin” immediately.
“But Marty, please. PLLEEEEAASE. I swear they won’t be any trouble. I’ll take care of everything. You won’t even know they’re here.”
Marty slammed down her cards and stared fiercely at Abby. “Don’t make me say it again. Either those mice get dumped back of the bunk or you take ’em on up to the Nature Hut.”
“Well, okay for you!” Abby huffed indignantly and stormed off to the Nature Hut where Maya, the nature counselor was more than happy to put up with the new arrivals. They joined a menagerie that included a garter snake, several toads, an injured raccoon, and Eileen’s gerbils, Trudy and Rudy, one of whom was running wildly in place on a little wheel in its cage. Maya told Abby that she could build a proper home for the mice to replace the drawer.
“Well, at least they’re in good hands,” Abby consoled herself as she trudged back to the bunk. She was not looking forward to her reunion with her bunkmates. As soon as they see me, she thought, Bonnie and Phyllis’ ll probably start screaming how I have cooties and-Abby stopped to scratch herself. Well, this time, she wasn’t going to let them get to her. She straightened up and marched toward Buttercup.
“Welcome back, Abby,” Eileen greeted her from the porch.
“I did your cleanup job all three days,” Lisa announced. “Didn’t I, Marty.”
“I tried to come and visit you,” Eileen whispered, “but Marty wouldn’t let me.”
Abby brightened. “Hey! You’re gonna flip when you see what I brought to the Nature Hut. Your gerbils have new friends.” Abby started to tell her all about the discovery when Bonnie and Phyllis sauntered out.
“Hi, you guys. I’m back!” Abby forced a smile. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much!”
Bonnie looked right through Abby and turned to Phyllis. “Do you hear somebody saying something? Cause I sure don’t. ”
Abby tried to stay calm. “Look, I’m sorry about the other day but—”
“I don’t hear anybody either.” Phyllis shook her head so that her braids danced. Bonnie smirked.
That did it. “The silent treatment!” Abby shouted, throwing up her hands. “Well, suits me fine. It’ll be a pleasure not to have to talk to you.”
Bonnie and Phyllis exchanged satisfied looks.
Just then a taxi roared down the hill sending up a spray of gravel in its wake. “Look!” Phyllis cried. “I bet it’s her!”
The cab stopped in front of the bunk; the driver jumped out of the front seat and unloaded from the back seat one suitcase, one tennis racket and one girl in green shorts and a white T-shirt. With considerable relief, Abby realized her return was being upstaged by Roberta’s arrival.
If ever anybody had the look of a born victim, it was Roberta. She was shorter than Abby and tubby, with round owlish eyes magnified by glasses that gave her an odd startled look as if someone had just yelled “Boo!” And all over her face and arms and legs were nasty-looking little scabs, the remnants of chicken pox. Bonnie and Phyllis were already e
xchanging sly looks and Abby felt a wave of sympathy as she watched Roberta wave goodbye to the cab. She trotted down the porch steps and made a move to help Roberta with her suitcase but Roberta just brushed her away and picked it up herself. “Don’t bother,” she said. Abby stepped aside, stung by Roberta’s unfriendliness.
“Roberta. Ro-ber-ta,” Bonnie sang out from the porch. “We were wondering when you’d show up.”
Abby tried to imagine what mean stuff Bonnie and Phyllis had planned. Well, too bad for Roberta. If she couldn’t accept a simple gesture of kindness, Abby wasn’t wasting any time feeling sorry for her.
Roberta marched up the steps past Bonnie and Phyllis. “Well here I am,” she announced. “Back by popular demand.” She nodded grandly at Lisa and Eileen then flung open the screen door—a little too hard—because it promptly swung back, thwacking her in the face. Roberta acted as if nothing had happened and proceeded inside. Abby giggled in spite of herself. Roberta was some klutz all right, but at least she had style.
“Same spaz as always.” Bonnie followed her in. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
Roberta turned and smiled widely. “Maybe so, but you sure have.... Vavavavoom!” she said, staring at the twin bumps under Bonnie’s T-shirt.
Bonnie flushed and hunched her shoulders.
Abby’s mouth fell open. Well, chalk one up for Roberta, Abby thought, shaking her head in grudging admiration. Talk about looks being deceiving! She spotted Roberta’s suitcase open on her bed. Inside was practically nothing but candy and gum. Maybe there was hope for this kid yet!:
At lunch Roberta seemed not exactly friendly, but less hostile. She informed Abby and Eileen that she was a Groucho Marx fan; had had appendicitis (with a scar to prove it); and lived outside Boston which accounted for the interesting way she spoke, calling their counselor “Maahty” and pronouncing “Aunt Tillie” “Ohnt.”
“An ‘ant’ is an insect, not a relative,” Roberta informed Abby. “You’re the one with the accent.”
Abby was intrigued by Roberta. She seemed so cool and independent. That afternoon when Marty herded them up to the shower house, Abby made a point of sharing a clothes hook with her.
“I can’t believe it’s your third summer here. How can you stand it?” Abby asked.
“It’s not my idea. My parents dump me here while they travel,” Roberta said matter-of-factly. “They’re in Europe now.”
“Oh,” said Abby, not knowing what else to say.
Lisa was first into the showers. “Ouch!” she yelped. “The water’s really hot.”
Roberta took off her glasses and her robe and proceeded, stark naked, to test out other stalls.
“Cute, Roberta.” Bonnie was enveloped in her towel. “Do we really have to look at your disgusting blubber?”
Roberta turned and smiled sweetly. “Not everyone can look like they belong in Playboy.”
Chalk up another point for the kid, Abby thought, and, smiling, she stepped into a stall, drew the curtain, and pulled down on the shower cord which sent a hard spray of water raining down on her. Boy did it feel good to wash off all that grungy Calamine.
Bang! Abby heard the door to the shower house slam shut. It was probably Lisa. Typical of her to be finished before everybody else.
Then a minute later Eileen called out, “Abby, if Marty asks, I’ll be at the Nature Hut.” Bang! went the door again. Phyllis was next to leave, shouting out to Bonnie that she’d be waiting for her back at the bunk.
When Abby finally emerged, thoroughly scrubbed and slightly scalded, Roberta stuck her head out of the stall. “Don’t go before you get me my glasses. I’m blind without them.” She groped for the glasses Abby handed her and wrapped her robe around her. It was then that they noticed one bathrobe still hung from a peg on the wall and one towel was draped over a shower stall still spitting out hot water.
Roberta checked inside the robe. Bonnie Unger, the nametape said. Her eyes brightened behind, her foggy glasses.
“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” Abby asked in a whisper that barely contained her glee.
Roberta nodded. Quickly she tossed Abby the robe and yanked the towel from the shower stall. Bonnie poked her head out, trying to figure out what was happening.
Roberta waved to her.
“Ta! Ta!” said Abby.
Bang! went the shower house door.
“I can’t wait till she gets back,” Roberta said. They were back at the bunk lying in wait for Bonnie.
“Me neither,” Abby giggled. “You don’t think it was too mean, do you?”
Roberta looked at her. “Are you kidding? Bonnie’s probably mad she didn’t think of doing it to us first.”
Soon Bonnie came flying toward the bunk, a shower curtain wrapped around her.
“She looks homicidal!” said Abby.
“Of all the MEAN, ROTTEN, LOW-DOWN—” Bonnie shouted.
“Smile!” said Roberta, whipping out her camera and snapping the shutter. Then she and Abby raced out of the bunk and kept running until they couldn’t hear Bonnie bellowing anymore.
“Did you get a load of the look on her face?” Abby said when they stopped to catch their breath.
Roberta nodded with satisfaction. “Only we better keep away from the bunk until she calms down a little—that is if I want to make it to my eleventh birthday.” Roberta thought for a moment. “Hey, let’s go to the counselors’ shack. We can spy on them.”
That idea appealed to Abby immensely. The counselors’ shack, which was deep in the woods by the lake, was strictly off-limits to campers. Abby didn’t know anyone who had actually seen it, but there were all sorts of tantalizing rumors about the place—especially that counselors from the boys’ camp across the lake were always sneaking over. It would be great to see what really went on.
“What are we waiting for?” Abby began running after Roberta into the woods. Then she remembered. The Nature Hut. She’d told Maya she’d come and start building a home for the mice during free period. Well, that could probably wait, Abby figured, and anyway, Eileen would be around if there was anything that had to be done. Then Abby felt a funny pang in her stomach, which she thought was a pretty odd place for her conscience to strike.
“Roberta, I forgot. I’m supposed to be at the Nature Hut now. I have these mice—Hey! Why don’t you come too?”
“Nah, I don’t like animals and the feeling is mutual.”
“You’ll like the mice,” Abby insisted. “They’re adorable.”
“But I’ve never been to the counselors’ shack,” Roberta said. “Every summer I plan to sneak over and then somehow I never do.”
“I’ll go with you another time, I promise.” Abby gently pulled Roberta in the direction of the Nature Hut. “After all,” she smiled at her new friend, “we’ve got the whole summer.”
July 10
Dear Ma and Daddy,
Guess what? I’m a mackerel. That’s the second best in swimming and means now I get to go out way over my head. Don’t worry, Ma. It’s very safe—nobody’s drowned yet (that was a joke!).
Here is more good news. The last girl in our bunk finally got here. She came late because she had chicken pox. Her name is Roberta Harrison. I like her best of anybody in the bunk (she likes me best too). I already told her she could hang around with us on Parents’ Visiting Day because her parents won’t be here.
Roberta has more accidents than anybody I ever met. So far she has fallen out of bed, gotten a nosebleed from being hit with a volleyball, and tipped over backwards in her chair during dinner. Everybody in the Mess Hall started banging their spoons when she crashed. I would have died if it had been me, but Roberta just got up and announced, “And now for my next trick!”
Did I tell you about my mice? I think I forgot to when you called. I found a whole family of them in the infirmary and now I keep them in the Nature Hut. The babies are only a few days old and already they’re growing all this soft fur. They are so cute. Me and this kid Eileen
fixed up a nice cage out of an aquarium with lots of stuff for them to play with. At the end of the summer I get to take them home if it’s okay with you. Please say yes.
Well, that’s all for now. Please send me some gum. Just sneak a few loose sticks in each letter.
Also make sure Emily is out of my room by the time I get home.
Love and a million kisses,
Me
July 12.
Dear Merle,
I just got your letter. I feel awful, but I bet things get better at the theater. You always end up having fun wherever you are. That Nancy sure does sound like a snob. I never even heard of her mother—what movies has she been in anyway?
I almost feel guilty telling you this, but camp is getting better. It’s weird how things change, isn’t it? The last kid came and she’s a lot of fun. Don’t worry, though, you’re still my best friend forever and ever. Numero uno!
Remember I wrote you about the mouse babies? I have one picked out for you. Its name is Fred Astaire because he (or she, I’m not exactly sure) sort of dances around a lot. Fred can even do somersaults. I swear I’m not kidding. It’s hysterical to see. Roberta won’t go near the mice anymore since one of them made in her hand. It was gross.
Well, free period is almost over so I’ll sign off. I miss you tons. When is your cast coming off? Is there any chance your parents would let you come to camp for the second month?
Yours till Niagara Falls,
Abby
P.S. I learned a lot of new stuff in jacks. I’ll show you when we get home. I can almost flip with one hand now.
July 12
Dear Grandma,
Thanks a lot for sending me the salami from Sol’s Deli. I guess Ma didn’t tell you but it’s against the rules for us to get any food packages. It was very nice of you anyway. The food here is awful. Yesterday I found a spider in my chicken but at least it was dead.
Yours Till Niagara Falls, Abby Page 4
