#28 Mallory Makes a Difference

by Laurie Friedman

  For Becca and Adam. Always!

  And for all my readers. Thanks for loving Mallory as much as I do.

  —L.B.F.

  For Juliette, who will soon be reading these books, may they be an inspiration to you always.

  —J.K.

  Contents

  A Word from Mallory

  (Un)happy Halloween

  In the News

  An Idea

  An Unexpected Partner

  Ready, Set, Go!

  Problems at the Start

  Keeping It Straight

  CANFUSION!

  Bagging It

  Making a Difference

  Reasons to Cheer

  TV Time

  Happy Thanksgiving!

  A How-To Guide

  A Scrapbook

  A Word from Mallory

  My name is Mallory McDonald, like the restaurant, but no relation. I have a cat named Cheeseburger and a brother named Max. I’m in fifth grade, and I’m so excited because my favorite time of year is finally here.

  It’s fall, which means all of the best holidays are right around the corner!

  First up is Halloween. I love dressing up, getting candy, and having fun with my friends. Then it’s Thanksgiving. There’s nothing yummier than feasting with my family. And Christmas is the most fun of all. I love putting up the tree, baking cookies, going caroling and, of course, exchanging gifts.

  My only problem now is deciding how I’m going to celebrate Halloween.

  Half of my friends are going to a party at Mary Ann’s house, where they’ll eat pizza and watch a scary movie. The other half are meeting up at Pamela’s to go trick-or-treating.

  I know I can’t be two places at once, but I don’t want to miss out on the party or going trick-or-treating. For the last week, I’ve been trying to decide what I would rather do.

  I made a pros and cons list. I tried flipping a coin. I even tried writing the words party and trick-or-treating on note cards and told my cat, Cheeseburger, to point her paw to the place she thought I should go. But I still couldn’t decide.

  Tonight, though, I realized something important —I don’t have to pick one place. I can go both places. So on Halloween, I’m going to go to Mary Ann’s house first, have pizza, and then skip the movie and go to Pamela’s to trick-or-treat.

  Problem solved!

  Happy Halloween!

  (Un)happy Halloween

  “Dad, let’s go!” I try not to pace in the family room while I wait for Dad. But it’s hard not to. It’s Halloween, which means I have two places to be and no time to waste.

  When Dad and I are finally in the van on the way to Mary Ann’s house, I go over the schedule with him again.

  “I’ll call you when we’re done eating pizza. Then you’re going to pick me up from Mary Ann’s and take me to Pamela’s house so I can trick-or-treat.”

  Dad glances at me. “Are you sure you don’t want to just stay at Mary Ann’s?”

  I let out a breath. Mom and Dad think that I’m trying to do too much in one night and that I should have picked either Mary Ann’s party or trick-or-treating. But I really want to do both things. “Dad, please. We’ve already talked about this.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” says Dad with a wink. He and Mom are wearing matching pirate costumes to give out candy to trick-or-treaters. I know he thinks his pirate imitation is funny, but this is no laughing matter.

  “Dad, when you pick me up, please don’t forget to bring my Halloween costume so I can change in the van on the way to Pamela’s house,” I say as we pull up in front of Mary Ann’s house.

  “Be off with you, matey,” Dad says in his pirate voice. “I know what to do.”

  I give Dad a smile as I get out of the van. “Thanks,” I say.

  As I walk up to Mary Ann’s front door, I think about who is coming to her party. Zoe, Arielle, Danielle, Hannah, and Grace will all be here. Chloe Jennifer, April, Emma, Dawn, and Brittany are going to Pamela’s. I really wish everyone could have done one thing together, but that isn’t the case.

  When I ring the bell, Joey opens the door. “Happy Halloween!” he says.

  He’s wearing vampire fangs that make his voice sound funny when he speaks. I can’t help but laugh. “Great costume,” I say.

  “Thanks,” Joey says, smiling. “I’m leaving to go trick-or-treating with Pete and Devon,” he adds. “The girls are in Mary Ann’s room if you want to go up.”

  “Have fun!” I say.

  When I walk into Mary Ann’s room, Zoe, Arielle, and Danielle are already there.

  “Mallory!” says Mary Ann like she’s glad I came. She knows that I was torn about what I wanted to do and that I’m planning to leave after we eat. “We’re just waiting for Hannah and Grace to get here before we order the pizza.”

  “Cool,” I say and look at the clock on my phone. I just hope they get here soon. I’m supposed to be at Pamela’s house in an hour to start trick-or-treating.

  “Do you want to paint your nails?” asks Danielle.

  “We brought black and orange polish,” says Arielle.

  “Sure.” I plop down on the floor next to Zoe, who is already painting her nails in Halloween colors.

  “Look,” says Zoe when she’s done. She wiggles her fingers. She painted her nails orange with black spots and stripes. “Cute, huh?”

  “Your nails look like baby leopards,” says Mary Ann. She giggles.

  I decide to paint all my nails orange except for my pointer fingers. I paint those nails black. By the time I’m done, Hannah and Grace arrive.

  “I’m going to ask my mom to order the pizza now,” says Mary Ann. “Who wants pepperoni, and who wants plain cheese?” she asks.

  She counts up who wants what and then writes it down on a notepad. I hope the pizza will get here fast. I have to leave in forty-five minutes.

  While we wait for the pizza, we hang out in the kitchen, talking and eating chips and dip. “What’s your favorite kind of Halloween candy?” asks Hannah.

  “I like lollipops,” says Grace.

  “I like anything chocolate,” says Arielle.

  “Mmm, me too,” says Danielle.

  Halloween candy seems like a weird thing to be talking about, especially since no one who came to the party wanted to go trick-or-treating. I try to focus on what everyone is saying, but it’s hard not to look at the time on my phone.

  All of my friends at Pamela’s are going to start trick-or-treating in twenty minutes, and there’s still no sign of the pizza. I decide to go into the bathroom and text Pamela.

  I wait ten minutes and then another ten minutes but still no sign of the pizza.

  I don’t know if I should stay or go. If I go, I don’t get to eat pizza. And if I stay, I can’t trick-or-treat.

  I do an eenie, meenie, miney, mo in my head, but it doesn’t help. I feel my phone buzzing. I pull it out of my pocket and read the text from Pamela.

  I walk out of the kitchen and text her back.

  But it’s not OK. I’m hungry and I’m late. This is NOT how I planned Halloween.

  I text Dad to come and get me. Maybe by the time he gets here, the pizza will have already arrived and I will have eaten it.

  As I put my phone back into my pocket, Mary Ann’s mom comes into the kitchen. “Girls, I’m so sorry the pizza is taking so long,” she says. “I just called and the restaurant said Halloween is a busy night, but they promised the pizza is on its way.”

  Unfortunately for me, Dad is a faster driver than the delivery guy.

  “I guess I have to go,” I say when I hear him honk his horn.

  Mary Ann frowns. “You don’t want to stay for pizza?” she asks.

  Actual
ly, I do. I’m starving, but Dad is here. I say bye and race out to the van. When I get inside, Dad hands me my witch costume. “How was the pizza?” he asks.

  I know if I explain what happened, he’ll say I need to eat dinner, especially before I eat a bunch of candy. But I also don’t want to lie. “Tell you about it later,” I say. “I have to get dressed and text Pamela to find out where everyone’s trick-or-treating.”

  Dad opens his mouth, and then he closes it. I’m not sure what he was going to say, but I’m relieved when he doesn’t say anything.

  I slip on my costume and then buckle my seat belt as Dad pulls out of the driveway. I pull out my phone and text Pamela.

  “Mallory, where are your friends?” Dad asks as we get closer to Pamela’s house.

  I stare down at my phone. “Pamela hasn’t answered yet,” I mumble.

  Dad looks at me like he gets what’s going on and feels sorry for me. “Why don’t I drive around the neighborhood? I bet we can find your friends.”

  “Sure,” I say. There’s a lump in my throat. I feel like something is stuck, and it’s obviously not Halloween candy. As we drive from street to street, I text Pamela again to try and find out where they are. But she still doesn’t answer.

  When I finally spot my friends, Dad pulls over and I hop out of the van.

  “Mallory!” says Dawn. “What took you so long?”

  “Look at how much candy we’ve gotten,” says Brittany. She opens up the pillowcase she’s carrying so that I can see how much candy is in it.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t text you back,” Pamela says. “I didn’t hear my phone.”

  “We’re going to do a few more houses, and then we’re going back to Pamela’s house to trade candy,” says April.

  “We’ll share what we got with you,” says Chloe Jennifer. I can tell they’ve had enough trick-or-treating, but they feel bad that I haven’t had any.

  “Don’t worry,” I say. I wave to Dad like everything is fine and he can go. But as he drives off, part of me wants to just get in the van and go home with him.

  I’ve had enough Halloween for one night.

  In the News

  “Why the long face?” asks Mom when I walk into the kitchen. “Are you feeling OK?”

  “I’m fine,” I say. But the truth is that I’m in a grumpy mood.

  I pour cereal into a bowl and top it with sliced bananas and milk. Then I sit down at the table and eat a spoonful. I see Mom and Dad look at each other. I was quiet the whole car ride home when Dad picked me up from Pamela’s. Then I went straight to bed. I know my parents can tell something is wrong.

  Ever since I woke up, I’ve been thinking about last night. No pizza. Not much candy. And not much fun.

  Halloween definitely didn’t turn out the way I planned.

  Dad puts down the newspaper and looks at me. “Anything you’d like to talk about?” he asks.

  I put my spoon down. I tell Mom and Dad about missing the pizza at Mary Ann’s house and then missing most of the trick-or-treating.

  I wait for Mom and Dad to say something like You shouldn’t have tried to do two things, or We tried to warn you.

  But my parents surprise me. “I’m sorry your night didn’t work out the way you wanted,” says Mom.

  Dad takes a sip of his coffee. “The good news is that Halloween was just one holiday and there are several more coming up. Hopefully, Thanksgiving and Christmas will be better.”

  Mom smiles at me. “Maybe there’s something you can do to make them extra special,” she says.

  “I’d like them to be better,” I tell my parents. I pick up my spoon and take another bite of cereal. The truth is that I don’t think they could be much worse. As I eat my cereal, Max walks into the kitchen and sticks a slice of bread in the toaster.

  “Would you like some eggs?” Mom asks Max.

  “No thanks,” says my brother. “I’m not that hungry. I ate too much candy last night.” As he waits for his bread to toast, he gives a bite of scrambled eggs to Champ and talks about the party he went to.

  It sounds like fun and I’m glad he had a good time, but it doesn’t make me feel any better about the night I had. I should have listened to Mom and Dad when they tried to tell me I was doing too much.

  Max sits down with his toast and starts eating.

  Dad takes a sip of coffee and turns the page of the newspaper. “Here’s a cool story,” he says. He reads an article aloud. It’s about a group of high school juniors who hosted weekly bake sales to raise money to host a Halloween party for underprivileged kids.

  “Over one hundred kids attended the party,” says Dad. He reads a quote from a little boy who went to the party.

  “They gave everyone candy and costumes. There was a DJ, and we played scary games. I had so much fun. It was the best Halloween ever!”

  “My history teacher told us about that party,” says Max. “When she heard the kids at the high school organized it, she said that next year she’s going to try to do the same thing at the middle school.”

  “That’s a good idea,” says Mom.

  “Here’s a quote from one of the girls who organized the party,” says Dad.

  “‘Seeing all the happy faces of the kids at the party made it the best Halloween ever,’ says Jenny Perez, a junior at Fern Falls High School.”

  Mom looks over Dad’s shoulder at the newspaper. “It sounds like a great night for the kids who attended the party and for the kids who organized it,” she says. “I think it’s wonderful that the kids who organized the party made a difference in the lives of other people.”

  I finish my cereal and then take my bowl to the sink. While I rinse it out, I think about what Jenny Perez said. Seeing all the happy faces of the kids who came to the party made it the best Halloween she’s ever had.

  As I sling my backpack over my shoulder, I can’t help but think about the difference between Jenny and me.

  I thought I had the worst Halloween ever.

  She thought she had the best Halloween ever.

  When it comes to holiday planning, maybe I, Mallory McDonald, can learn something from her.

  An Idea

  “It’s your turn,” says Max.

  I point to the chart on our bathroom wall. “I cleaned the bathroom last time. It’s your turn.” Our chore chart speaks the truth, and Max knows it.

  His shoulders sag. “I have a math test tomorrow,” he says.

  “Tomorrow is Sunday,” I remind my brother.

  “Yeah, right,” says Max like he was confused. “I meant Monday.”

  But I don’t think my brother mixed up his days. I just think he doesn’t want to clean the bathroom. I start to walk back to my room, but Max stops me.

  “Please!” he says. “If you’ll clean it this time, I’ll do it the next three times.”

  I might be younger than Max, but I’m not stupid. I know his tricks. “You know you won’t,” I say.

  Max goes into his room. He comes back with a notebook and pen. “I’ll even put it in writing.” Max has never done that before. I accept his offer.

  As I scrub the tub, I think about Halloween. It was a week ago, but the article Dad read about the students at the high school who held the Halloween party for underprivileged kids is stuck in my brain.

  What they did is really nice and really cool.

  When I finish cleaning the bathtub, I spray glass cleaner on the mirror and start wiping it off with a rag.

  I can’t change what happened on Halloween, but I remember what Mom said about Thanksgiving. It’s coming up, and maybe there’s something I can do to make it extra special. I’d like to do something like the high school kids did. It would be nice to help other people have a great holiday.

  The only question is, What could I do?

  When I finish cleaning the bathroom, I sit down at my desk with Cheeseburger to try and answer that question.

  I scribble down a few ideas. But none of them seem right.

  I need someone wh
o can help me think—and I know just the right person.

  I change into my pajamas, slip my feet into my fuzzy duck slippers, and walk upstairs to Mom and Dad’s room. Mom is in bed reading a book.

  “Can I come in?” I ask.

  Mom puts her book down and pats the empty spot next to her. I plop down on the bed beside Mom and tell her what’s on my mind.

  “For Thanksgiving, I’d like to do something that helps other people. But I don’t know what that something should be.”

  Mom smiles at me like she likes the way I’m thinking. “You must have some ideas,” Mom says.

  “I was thinking that we could have a party at my school and do what the high school kids did.” I pause. “But that doesn’t seem very Thanksgiving-y.”

  “Hmmm,” says Mom. “Any other ideas?”

  “I thought about doing something to improve the school, like planting flowers. But that doesn’t seem quite right either.” I talk faster. “Since it’s Thanksgiving, it could be nice to do something with food.”

  “You know, there are lots of people in Fern Falls who don’t have enough food to eat,” says Mom. “Not just on Thanksgiving but on a daily basis.”

  I think about that for a minute. “What if I organize a food drive at school? Students could bring in canned goods to help families in need. That way, those families could have food so they can enjoy the holiday.”

  “That’s a great idea!” Mom says.

  As I think about doing a food drive, all kinds of ideas start rolling around in my brain. “It could be a contest,” I say. “There could be a prize for the grade that brings in the most cans.”

  “That could work,” says Mom.

  “It could be a really good prize so that kids bring in a lot of cans. I think there should be no school for a week for the class that wins,” I say.

  Mom laughs. “That might be a bit much. First, you need to talk to Mrs. Finney about having a food drive. As the principal, she’d have to approve it before you get started.”