When David first thought about it, it seemed easy. But then he began to realize some of the problems.
“How do you turn on the faucets?” Janie asked.
“That won’t be too hard,” David said. “Just wrap a towel around your hand first. Wouldn’t that be all right?”
Amanda nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “But you haven’t thought of the hardest part yet. How about mealtimes. You have to eat everything with your fingers.”
“Molly won’t like it,” Esther said.
“I’ll bet she’ll let us, just for one day, if we explain about why we’re doing it,” David said. “Molly isn’t very fussy about—”
Amanda was shaking her head back and forth and looking disgusted.
“What’s the matter?” David asked.
“You don’t know anything about how fussy she is. She’s not your mother. Besides, you’re not allowed to explain it. If you explain that you’re doing an ordeal, it ruins it. It ruins the whole ordeal, and you have to do another one instead.”
“Wow!” David said. “Why not? Why can’t you at least tell your own family about it?”
Amanda arranged her face in an insulting sneer. “Look Davie,” she said, “it’s just that wizards and sorcerers don’t usually go running to ask their mommies—”
“Okay, okay,” David said. “I just wondered, that’s all.”
The rest of the day, in between working in the garden, taking the kids for a hike, and doing some reading, David did some thinking about the next day’s ordeal. He came up with some good ideas and some others that turned out to be useless.
He thought, for a while, that he had solved the mealtime problem when he remembered the plastic spoons Molly kept for picnics, but when he went to look for them they had disappeared. When he asked Molly about them, she said she couldn’t understand it because she was sure they’d been there a day or two before. Molly looked through the drawer herself after David gave up.
“That’s strange,” she said. “Perhaps the kids took them.”
When David told her that he’d already checked with the kids and they hadn’t, Molly shook her head. “Well,” she said, smiling at David, “it must have been our ghost, then.”
“What ghost?” David asked.
“Ours,” Molly said. “An old house like this one surely must have at least one ghost, don’t you think.”
“Oh sure,” David said laughing. It was the first time he’d ever heard Molly say anything about ghosts, and he was sure she only meant it as a joke. Afterwards he wasn’t so sure.
It wasn’t until quite late in the afternoon that the zipper problem occurred to him. It was his problem mainly because the girls had lots of clothes without zippers and Blair had some boxer type pants with only elastic. David checked over his wardrobe and decided that the safest thing for him to wear would be his swimming trunks, even though, unless the weather warmed up, they might be a little hard to explain.
By bedtime that night David had metal on the brain. He had taken the kids on a last minute tour of the house pointing out all the things that were made of metal, but he wasn’t sure they’d remember everything. Like, for instance, the metal doorknob on the kitchen door when most of the doorknobs were okay because they were of crystal.
David was still lying in bed, waiting to go to sleep, when suddenly he had a bright idea. The first big problem was going to be breakfast. Dad liked to get up early so he had time for a leisurely breakfast with the whole family before he left for work; and if there was one thing he was strict about, it was having things polite and peaceful at the table. If everyone started eating with their fingers, things would get unpeaceful in a hurry. There was just one possibility that might simplify things.
Molly who, unlike Dad, tended to be careless about routine things, had forgotten a couple of times to set the alarm clock. And on those days she had hurriedly made Dad’s breakfast and gotten him off to work before she called the rest of the family. Once she’d even asked David to be in charge of the kid’s breakfast afterwards, so she could get started on her painting. David hadn’t minded because he’d done it all the time before Dad and Molly were married. That kind of situation would make things a lot simpler in the morning. The tricky part would be getting Molly to oversleep.
David jumped out of bed suddenly and went out into the hall. Upstairs everything was very quiet but the lights were still on downstairs, so Dad and Molly were still up. David went down as far as the landing and listened. He could hear the sound of voices in the living room, so he went back up the stairs quickly and down the hall to Dad and Molly’s room. On the night stand was Molly’s alarm clock. David set the alarm hand for about forty-five minutes later than usual. That would just about give Dad time to make it if he swallowed his breakfast in a hurry. It was a dirty trick to play on Molly, but David excused it by thinking it probably wouldn’t upset her and Dad as much as watching everybody eating their corn flakes with their bare fingers. This way Molly would just rush around and get Dad off, and then David would offer to feed the kids so Molly could get to work at her painting. It ought to work like a charm if Molly just didn’t notice that the alarm setting had been changed before she went to bed that night.
It worked fine. David woke the next morning to the sound of Molly’s feet almost running down the stairs. When he checked the time on his watch, sure enough, she was good and late. A few minutes later he heard Dad’s footsteps, slower, but hurrying, too. David got up and looked out the window to see if the weather was cooperating, too. It wasn’t particularly. It was overcast, and a little bit windy.
In his swimming trunks David felt definitely chilly, so he put on his heaviest sweatshirt. He was hoping that would even things up, but what it did was make one end too warm and the other too cold. That didn’t worry him, though. It was almost sure to get warmer later in the day, and besides, he reasoned, he probably shouldn’t expect an ordeal to be too comfortable. Not a really good ordeal, anyway.
Next David got out Blair’s clothing so he wouldn’t forget and touch the metal drawer pulls on his chest of drawers. Then he went in the girls’ room and got their clothes out, too. When he got down to the kitchen, Dad was just leaving. As soon as he drove off, Molly poured herself some coffee and collapsed into a chair.
“I really don’t know what’s the matter with me, David,” she said. “I would almost swear I didn’t touch that clock last night, and it was all right yesterday. But this morning the alarm was set for almost an hour later. Either the clock is going crazy, or I am.”
“Do you suppose a person could fool around with a clock in his sleep?” David asked.
“Well, I suppose it’s possible, but I’ve never done anything like that before. The other times I overslept I forgot to pull out the switch so the alarm just didn’t go off. It went off this morning all right—only a lot too late.”
David shook his head sympathetically. “Hey,” he said, “how about my fixing the kids’ breakfast this morning so you won’t have to be so late starting on your painting.”
Molly smiled and shook her head slowly in a kind of unbelieving way. “David, you are, without a doubt, the—”
She stopped suddenly, looking towards the kitchen door. “Good morning,” she said.
It was Amanda. She came in and sat down at the table. “You know what I’d like?” she said to Molly. It was the first time David had heard her say something to an adult who hadn’t just asked her a point-blank question. “I’d really like some pancakes for breakfast.”
“I’m going to make breakfast,” David said.
“Can you make pancakes?”
“I don’t know,” David said. “I never tried pancakes.”
“Well, I sure would like some pancakes,” Amanda said, almost smiling at her mother.
“I think I could take the time to whip up some pancakes,” Molly said. “I’ll take you up on your offer some other day, David.”
Molly got busy on the pancakes, and David got a chance to whisper to
Amanda. “Hey, you really blew it. I had it all fixed up so she wouldn’t be around while the kids ate breakfast.”
Amanda looked at him blankly. “Look,” she said. “I happened to feel like pancakes. Get the picture?”
“Yeah,” David said. “I get the picture.” And he really did, at least a little. He was just beginning to get the picture about Amanda and the ordeals.
Chapter Seven
WHAT DAVID BEGAN TO REALIZE THAT MORNING, WHEN AMANDA INSISTED on pancakes, was that she wasn’t going to be the least bit helpful in getting all the Stanley kids through the ordeals. As a matter of fact, David was beginning to think she might be planning to make it just as hard for them as she possibly could. David wasn’t sure why she wanted things to be so difficult, but he was starting to have a theory or two about it. And it didn’t all have to do with the supernatural.
Whatever the reason, Amanda had fouled up his breakfast arrangement, and something else had to be done in a hurry. David decided to go upstairs and try to slow the kids down. Instead of letting them go to breakfast as soon as they were dressed, he took them all into his room and gave them a long lecture on all the things he’d taught them the day before about metal. All the time he was talking Janie kept saying she knew it already, and Esther kept saying she was hungry, and Blair just daydreamed, looking out the window. David didn’t mention the pancakes, because he knew that if he did he couldn’t have kept them in the room a minute—ordeal or no ordeal.
Finally, when he was sure that Molly must have finished cooking the pancakes, David decided to let them go. Just as he got out of the door, he heard Molly calling.
“David,” she called. “Where is everyone? The pancakes are getting cold.”
“Pancakes!” the kids yelled and rushed around David and down the stairs so fast that David almost had to break his neck to get back in front of them. At the kitchen door he stopped, and Janie ran into him with a thud, followed by two little bumps when Blair and Esther ran into her.
“I finally got them ready,” David said, strolling into the room. “Sorry we’re late. Why don’t you go on and paint now. I can do the rest.”
As soon as Molly had gone, David picked up all the silverware in a dishtowel so the kids wouldn’t forget and touch it. Then he buttered and jammed all the pancakes with a rubber plate scraper and let the kids eat them with their fingers. It worked fine with just jam, but Janie insisted on having syrup, too, and the whole thing got very messy. Cleaning it up afterwards, it seemed to David that everything in the whole kitchen had gotten sticky—except the silverware, of course.
The middle part of the day went pretty smoothly because lunch was only sandwiches and fruit. For a while the weather was even warm enough to make most of the goose bumps on David’s bare legs disappear. But there was still dinner to worry about. When it was almost time for Dad to get home, David still hadn’t come up with any general plan. Finally, in desperation, he decided that it would have to be every man for himself. He found the kids sitting on the front porch and told them so.
“Look,” he said. “I can’t think of any easy way to do it. I can’t find the plastic spoons, and Molly says that if we wanted hamburgers we should have told her sooner because she has things all planned for tonight. So, you’re all going to have to think up your own way to do it. I give up.”
“What are you going to do?” Janie asked.
“Well, the best thing I can think of is just trying to eat with my fingers when they’re not looking, but it probably won’t work. In that case I’ll say I have a stomach ache and get excused from the table.”
“You’ll starve,” Esther said.
“No I won’t. Not from missing one meal,” David told Esther, but she didn’t look convinced. Esther had never missed even a part of a meal in her whole life, so she certainly didn’t know much about starving.
“Maybe I’ll have a stomach ache, too,” Janie said. Missing a meal wouldn’t be any problem for Janie. She was one of the fussiest eaters in the world, and lots of meals she barely ate anything.
“Okay, Janie,” David said, “I’ll let you have the stomach ache. It’s more your kind of thing. I’ll think of something else.” He hadn’t been too enthusiastic about it anyway, since Molly was fixing lambchops, which happened to be one of his favorite foods.
Just then Amanda came out of the house, and David changed the subject. He had a feeling that it wouldn’t be smart to let her know their plans ahead of time. She went on hanging around, so, when David got a new idea—and a good one—a few minutes later, he wasn’t able to share it with the kids.
Dinner got off to a bad start. For one thing, David’s father had just gotten home from work and—as anyone knows who has had much experience with parents—that’s the very worst time to be annoying. Especially if several people are annoying in quick succession.
All three of the little kids were late getting to the table. They’d been sent to wash their hands and, of course, the problem of coping with the metal faucets had slowed things up. Everyone else was at the table, and Dad was looking impatient when finally Janie and Blair came in, and right after that Molly got up and closed the kitchen door because it was making a draft. She had no more than gotten back to the table when there was a knock on the door.
Dad frowned and called, “Esther. Is that you?”
“Yes, it’s Tesser,” Esther answered through the door.
“Well, come in.”
There was a pause, and then Esther yelled, “I can’t.” David was thinking she could use her skirt to cover the metal doorknob, but then he remembered she was wearing slacks. He picked up his napkin and started to go to the rescue.
“Sit down, David,” Dad said and he shoved his chair back and went to the door and jerked it open. Esther strolled in innocently while Dad turned the doorknob back and forth and checked the catch.
“There’s nothing wrong with this doorknob, Esther,” Dad said. “Did you turn it before you pulled on it?”
Esther looked at Dad blankly for a moment, and David held his breath. Then she just shook her head and said, “No.”
“You didn’t?” Dad said. “Well, next time try it, will you? Just turn the doorknob and then pull.”
About one minute later, Molly sent David to get the butter and Dad noticed the swimming trunks. As a general rule, people didn’t wear swimming suits to the dinner table in the Stanley household. Dad was starting to remind David of that fact when David interrupted to explain that he’d been planning to help the kids play in the sprinkler, only the day never did get quite warm enough.
“I should think not,” Dad said, and then almost immediately afterwards he added, “Janie, what on earth?”
Janie was eating her dinner, using her regular spoon and fork, only she was wearing a huge pair of very fuzzy rabbit fur mittens. Janie had gotten the mittens for Christmas, but she’d never worn them much because they were so thick and clumsy. Janie’s spoon looked as if it were sticking out of a huge ball of white fur, and her lips were pulled way back in a kind of snarl, so only her teeth would touch the metal spoon.
Janie smiled brightly at Dad, making her eyes and dimples twinkle like the little girl in the toothpaste commercial on TV. “My hands are cold, Daddy,” she said in a cutesy voice. “My hands have been very cold all day. I must be catching something.” She wrinkled up her nose and sneezed a very phony sneeze.
Dad looked at David and back at Janie. Then Molly laughed, and Dad finally grinned too, shaking his head.
“You must have been having some rather peculiar weather around here today,” he said.
“Very peculiar,” Molly said, filling Blair’s plate and passing it back to him. “Highly variable.”
After that, for a short interval, things went smoothly. Dad began telling Molly about a field trip he was going to go on; and for a little while they were so busy talking, they didn’t notice what was going on around the table. It was a good thing, too, because all sorts of strange things were happening.
Janie was doing fine with her fuzzy mittens. David wondered why he hadn’t thought of mittens or gloves. But of course, it wouldn’t have worked for all of them to do it. Janie might be able to get away with mittens and curled-back lips, because she was always doing weird things. But it would have ruined it for everyone to try it.
Esther was eating her peas with something that looked like a little shovel. David leaned closer and recognized it as the coal shovel from her doll house. Fortunately everything in the doll house was made of plastic. The shovel made a pretty good spoon, except that it only held about two peas at a time.
Blair was simply eating everything with his fingers. David knew that Dad would put an end to that in a hurry, as soon as he noticed, but for quite a while he didn’t. He and Molly were so wrapped up in their conversation that for several minutes they didn’t notice anything at all.
“But Jeff,” Molly was saying, “how will we manage for three whole weeks without you?”
Blair had nearly finished his mashed potatoes, Janie was struggling to cut up her lambchops with her rabbit paw hands, and David’s mashed potatoes were making a very warm spot on his leg, when Amanda suddenly sat her glass down with a loud bang.
“Well, I don’t have to accept,” Dad had been saying, “but the extra money—” He stopped and looked at Amanda. Everyone looked at Amanda.
The Headless Cupid Page 6
