“Hi!” we called out.
“We’re here!” Mrs. Stone replied.
As she parked near the barn, we crowded around Elvira. “Ooooh, she got even cuter!” Mary Anne said. “Can I take her out?”
Mrs. Stone slid out of the pickup and walked around toward us. “Go ahead,” she replied.
Mary Anne opened the door and scooped up Elvira.
“Say hello, Elvira,” Mrs. Stone said.
“Beeeeahhhh!” Elvira bleated.
“She’s smart, too,” Dawn said.
Mrs. Stone laughed. “My baby,” she said, patting Elvira’s head.
I looked into the pickup’s rear section. All kinds of stuff was there — boxes, bales of hay, a long rope. “Can I help you with anything?” I asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Mrs. Stone walked to the back of the truck and pulled open the pickup’s gate. “Now, I’ve brought along her pen, where she’ll sleep at night. I have more than enough food for her, so all you have to provide is her water. I also brought a collar and tether. Since your yard is not fenced in, you must make sure Elvira remains tethered to your barn.”
“The whole time?” Dawn asked.
Mrs. Stone nodded. “As long as she’s in your yard. Don’t forget, a baby goat isn’t a domestic animal. She could dart out into the road, get into your neighbors’ garbage, even run away and get lost. But don’t worry. I’ve brought a leash, too, in case you want to take her for a walk. And the tether is very long, so she’ll be able to frisk around your yard. She won’t even notice it.”
“All right,” Mary Anne said. I could tell she didn’t like the idea of keeping Elvira tied up. (Neither did I.)
As we helped unload Elvira’s stuff, Mrs. Stone went on and on with instructions: how often to feed Elvira, what to do if she spit up, how to care for her fur, how to change the hay in her pen. It was pretty complicated. (Elvira was adorable, but I admit I was glad Dawn and Mary Anne were the goat-sitters.)
Soon the pen was in the barn, the food was set up, and Elvira was tethered. Mrs. Stone finished her lecture and sighed. “Well, I guess that’s it, baby,” she said, picking up Elvira and kissing her on the head. “Ohhh, I sure will miss her. You know, I’ve been with her every day of her life.”
Elvira gazed up at her. “Beeeeaaah?” Her voice sounded timid, as if she were asking a question, like “Why are you leaving me?”
“Yes, I know,” Mrs. Stone said, cradling Elvira like a child. “But I’ll be back soon.”
Mrs. Stone’s face started to turn red. Her eyes became watery. “Goodness,” she said, “I — I didn’t realize how hard this would be!”
Watching her, we were all a little choked up. Mary Anne, of course, was crying. “Don’t worry, Mary Anne,” Dawn said. “You can stay.”
That broke the somber mood. We all laughed, and Mrs. Stone finally put Elvira down.
After a flurry of further instructions she got back in the pickup and started backing down the driveway. “Good-bye!” she called. “You have my number in case you need me!”
“Okay! ’Bye!” we yelled back.
As the car disappeared down the road, Dawn and Mary Anne became the BSC’s first official goat-sitters.
At first Elvira wandered around, looking a little unsure and scared. Dawn ran into the barn and brought out some tennis balls. She showed them to Elvira and said, “Want to play?”
Elvira cocked her head. “Beeeahhh!”
Dawn threw a ball toward the house. Elvira scampered after it. She planted her feet, kind of danced around the ball, grabbed it in her mouth and shook her head. Then she started rolling in the grass.
“She is so cute!” Mary Anne squealed.
Well, we must have used those words a thousand times that day. And not just the three of us, either. Pretty soon it seemed the whole neighborhood had found out about Elvira.
First the Prezziosos drove by. Jenny, who’s four, started screaming, “Stop! Stop, Mommy! Look!”
The car came to a sudden halt. “Is it okay if she watches?” Mrs. P. called out.
“Sure!” Mary Anne answered. But it didn’t matter what she’d said, because Jenny was already climbing out of the car.
Soon Buddy and Suzi Barrett came by, then Matt and Haley Braddock. At first we thought Elvira might get nervous with all those kids — I mean, children — around. But boy, did she prove us wrong. She loved them. She chased them, butting her head into their ankles. Then she’d run away in crazy zigzag patterns, until the kids fell on top of one another while Elvira bleated triumphantly. After that they played hide-and-seek, the kids screaming with joy every time Elvira found them.
At feeding time, Buddy held her in his arms and gave her a bottle, singing, “Hush, little Elvira, don’t say a word, Buddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird …”
Mary Anne almost started to blubber at that sight.
Eventually Mrs. Barrett came to get her children — and they had a fit! She had to pull Suzi away, kicking and screaming.
When they finally left, things became much quieter. Matt and Haley were trying to “trap” Elvira, signing instructions to each other with super-quick hand movements (Matt is deaf, so he and his sister communicate using sign language).
Dawn, Mary Anne, and I just watched, oohing and aahing and laughing.
At one point Mary Anne sighed. “I don’t want Monday to come.”
“Why?” Dawn asked.
“Between school and sitting jobs, we won’t be able to see Elvira. I don’t want to leave her!”
Haley let out a shriek of delight then — and I had a great idea. “Elvira would be perfect to take on jobs! We’d never have to worry about how to entertain our charges.”
Mary Anne grinned. “That’s right! And Mrs. Stone said we could take her away from the house if we put her on the leash!”
“I know,” I said. “You could hitch her to a wagon and give goat rides!”
“Great idea,” Dawn replied. “But we don’t have a wagon.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Besides,” Mary Anne added, “I think she’s a little small for that.”
We tossed around a few ideas, and that was pretty much the way the rest of the day went. Chatting, playing with Elvira, enjoying the spring breezes.
As for Wes, well, I had a small daydream about him, a Heidi-and-Peter sort of fantasy, in which we were goatherds in the Alps together. But that was it. Really, I was happy as could be. I had my friends and some great entertainment. And I knew that as the weekend came closer and closer to an end, I could only feel happier. Because Monday would be nearer. And Monday was the first day of my first full week with you-know-who.
The Newton parents were going to visit Mr. Newton’s brother. They were going to take Lucy, their baby daughter, with them, but Jamie had said he did not want to go. Dawn figured it would be a perfect job to bring Elvira on. Jamie Newton is four, and Elvira had already been field-tested with four-year-olds (Suzi Barrett and Jenny Prezzioso).
Not only that, but Claudia and Jessi both had jobs in the Newtons’ neighborhood. Elvira could really be the center of attention.
Even so, Dawn made sure to be careful. Like a good BSCer, she thought: Never assume a parent will want a goat around the house.
So she called the Newtons. They didn’t sound too thrilled about the idea, but Dawn assured them that Elvira was harmless and that Claud, Jessi, their charges would also come over. There would be plenty of supervision.
That did the trick. Dawn walked to the Newtons’ house with Elvira behind her. Mrs. Newton greeted her at the doorway, wearing this doubtful expression. Lucy was asleep on her shoulder.
“Hi, Mrs. Newton!” Dawn said.
From inside the house, Jamie’s scream drowned out Mrs. Newton’s answer. “They’re heeeeeeere!”
Now, Jamie is normally a mild, sweet four-year-old. But when he saw Elvira, he went berserk. He ran to her, laughing and shouting. Then he put his face up to hers and started bleating at the top of his lungs.
/> Poor Elvira backed away, looking scared and bewildered.
“Baaaah!” Jamie shouted. “Baaaaah!”
“Jamie,” Mrs. Newton called from the front stoop, “take it easy!”
Jamie turned around to face her. Suddenly Elvira found her courage and lunged forward. She butted Jamie in the behind, shouting, “Beeeeahhh!”
Jamie stumbled. Mrs. Newton bolted out of the house. Lucy started crying. Dawn was mortified.
“Are you all right?” Mrs. Newton asked.
Jamie didn’t say anything for a moment. Then a smile came across his face. “You know what Elvira did, Mommy?” he said. “She butted me in the butt!”
Jamie thought that was the most hilarious joke ever made. He doubled over with laughter. Mrs. Newton gave an uncertain smile. She looked carefully at Elvira and said, “I guess she’s really too little to do any harm, isn’t she?”
Dawn nodded. “And she loves children.”
“Sssshhh, it’s all right,” Mrs. Newton whispered to Lucy as she took her back inside.
“Baaah! Baaah!” Jamie continued.
“Beeeeah!” Elvira answered.
Jamie jumped up and down. “See, we’re talking!”
“Hi, Jamie!”
The voice from the sidewalk was unmistakable. The “hi” sounded like “hoi,” which meant the Hobarts were coming over. (They’re from Australia.) We looked up to see Mathew Hobart running toward us. His younger brother, Johnny, was close behind. (Mathew’s six and Johnny’s four.)
Behind them was Claudia. “Ooooh, she is so cute!” she gushed.
“Isn’t she?” I gushed back.
It was a gushfest all around. The kids were having the times of their lives. Elvira ran around, butting and licking and generally being adorable.
Mr. and Mrs. Newton came out of the house. As they strapped Lucy into the car seat, they laughed at the scene in the yard. “Dawn,” Mrs. Newton called out, “there’s plenty of iced tea in the fridge. Help yourself! ’Bye!”
“Okay! ’Bye!” Holding tightly to Elvira’s leash, Dawn waved.
As the Newtons backed out of the driveway, Dawn had some more visitors. Jessi came biking over with her charges — her eight-year-old sister, Becca, and Charlotte Johanssen. (Char and Becca are best friends.)
In unison they shouted, “Ooooh, she is so —” (Can you guess what the next word was?)
When Mal arrived with three of her siblings, Nicky (who’s eight), Margo (seven), and Claire (five), it was unanimous. The verdict was “cute” on all counts.
Four sitters, eight charges, and a goat. It seemed like a pretty good balance. Elvira loved the attention.
“Can’t you just let her run around?” Margo Pike asked.
“I wish,” Dawn said. “But she’s supposed to be on a leash at all times.”
“Can I hold the leash?” Nicky asked.
“Ooh, me, too!” Margo said.
“Me, too!” the others shouted.
“Whoa, wait a minute!” Dawn cried. “You can take turns — as long as you promise never to let go, and to keep her in the yard.”
“Yeeeeeaaaah!!!!”
The kids all grabbed at once.
“Um, let’s go in alphabetical order, okay?” Dawn said. “Becca, you’re first.”
As it dawned on Nicky that he was last, he stormed off, muttering, “That’s not fair!”
He got over it pretty quickly, though. The Newtons have a big yard, and the kids ran from one end to the other with Elvira.
When it was Johnny’s turn, Mathew grabbed a plastic tablecloth from the Newtons’ picnic table. He held it up and yelled, “Toro! Toro!”
I guess horned animals must share the same instincts, because Elvira charged like a bull. Laughing hysterically, Mathew pulled the tablecloth away. Of course, all the children wanted to try it. But when Claire tried, she couldn’t pull the tablecloth away in time. Elvira went storming into it, pulling Claire along with her. Kid and kid went tumbling in a sea of red-white-plaid plastic.
Soon the others jumped in. As they rolled around, shrieking and laughing, Elvira calmly walked out. She stood there with that little goat-smile and bleated.
We cracked up. It looked as if she were making fun of the kids.
After awhile Claire pulled a jump rope out of her pocket. “Can Elvira skip rope?” she asked Dawn.
Nicky slapped his head. “Not while she has a leash on, bubble-brain!”
“I’m not a bubble-brain, you silly-billy-goo-goo!” Claire retorted.
They went off to settle their argument, Elvira scampering after them.
“Who wants iced tea?” Dawn asked.
She was answered by a chorus of “me’s.”
“I’ll help,” Claudia volunteered.
Together they went into the house. They found a huge pitcher of iced tea in the fridge and put it on a tray with a stack of paper cups.
They returned to a yard full of happy, loud children. Jessi and Mal were in a deep conversation, but they stood up to help pour the drinks.
Becca was the first to come up to the table. “ ’Scuse me,” she said, pulling on Dawn’s shirt.
“Here you go,” Dawn said, handling a cup to her.
“Thanks,” Becca replied. “But, uh … where’s Elvira?”
“Nicky has her,” Dawn replied. She looked around the yard. Margo and Charlotte were trying to get a kite in the air. The Hobart boys were throwing a Frisbee with Jamie Newton. Nicky was tormenting Claire, holding her jump rope high in the air and making her reach for it.
“Gimme!” Claire screamed.
“Nicky?” Dawn said. “Where’s Elvira?”
Nicky kept dangling the rope and pulling it away. “I don’t know,” he said.
“You don’t know?” Dawn repeated. “Nicky, you had her last!”
Nicky stopped his game and looked toward the house. “She was — um, I thought she was playing —”
“You let go of the leash?” Mal asked.
Nicky nodded guiltily.
“Nicky!” Mal scolded.
Claire took the opportunity to grab the jump rope. “You tweetie-bird brain!” she yelled.
“All right come on, let’s form a search party,” Jessi said.
“Yeah! Search party!” Mathew replied.
“Let’s split up,” Dawn said. “Jessi, you take Becca and Char toward Brenner Field and look everywhere. Mal, you and Margo and Nicky and Claire look around the yard and the garage. Claudia, you and the Hobarts look across the street. I’ll take Jamie and look around the neighborhood.”
Operation Elvira began. The neighborhood echoed with Elvira’s name and lots of “baaah”-ing.
Dawn and Jamie went from house to house, looking in front and backyards. When they reached Bradford Court, they passed Claud’s house.
“Elvira!” they shouted.
CRAASSSHHH!
They stopped short. The sound came from the Goldmans’ house, next door to Claudia’s.
Dawn and Jamie ran toward the house. The Goldmans’ garage door was open, and their car was gone. But the floor was strewn with rotting banana peels and coffee grinds and paper trash. “Oh, bad, bad goat!” Dawn yelled.
She ran inside. Elvira was there, all right, standing by a large, overturned garbage can. She was happily chewing on a salad of ripped newspaper and spoiled food scraps.
“Eeewww!” Jamie cried, and then dissolved into giggles.
Dawn grabbed Elvira’s leash and pulled her away.
“Beeeeaahh!” Elvira protested.
It was a good thing Elvira was a baby. She dug in her heels, but Dawn was able to pull her to the Newtons’ yard. “I found her!” she yelled out.
When everyone had returned, Dawn went back to the Goldmans’. She rang their bell but no one answered, so she went into the garage, found a broom, and swept up the mess. She carefully dumped everything in the garbage can. Then she closed it tightly and made sure there were no signs that anything had happened. She was petrified the Goldma
ns would find out. They’re an older couple with no children, and last year their house was broken into and robbed. Dawn didn’t want them to think the same thing had happened.
The rest of the day passed by without any tragedies. But later on, as Dawn was walking back to the Newtons’ with Elvira and Jamie, she noticed the Goldmans’ car was in their driveway.
She began to feel guilty. She remembered how upset Mrs. Goldman had been about the burglary. What if she noticed something “off” about the garage? Would she and her husband search around, thinking something had happened? Would they call the police?
Dawn pulled Elvira across the street. “Come on, Jamie,” she said.
“Where are we going?”
With a sigh, she replied, “To the Goldmans’. We’re going to confess our crime.”
“Huh?”
Jamie looked as if he were about to cry when Dawn spilled the beans to the Goldmans. But as it turned out, they laughed at the story and invited Dawn and Jamie in for a fruit snack.
And Elvira feasted on fresh banana peels, right there in the comfort of the Goldmans’ kitchen.
On Wednesday, Wes and I celebrated our one week anniversary.
We didn’t do anything special in class. No cake or party favors. It was a private celebration, in our minds only.
At least in my mind.
Wes was subtle. He waited till the end of class to pop the question.
Well, not the question, but a question.
“Stacey,” he said in his honey-coated voice as I was walking out of the room, “would you mind lending me some of your organizational skills again for a while?”
Erica was passing by me at the time, and you should have seen the look on her face. I thought her eyes would pop out. I could hear her mutter something to Maria Jonaitis on the way out the door.
I felt awkward. I wanted to run after her and talk to her. We’d always been friendly, and I hate making enemies.
But then I looked at Wes. Somehow, instantly, Erica became a distant memory.
“Um, sure, I guess so,” I said (as if there had been any doubt). Actually, I didn’t have anything important to do before the BSC meeting.
Stacey's Big Crush (9780545768115) Page 5
