Ba rum ba rum ba rum.
Louie jumped up. A horse galloped across the screen. He’d done it again. He would have to put the remote control on top of the TV so he couldn’t press on it by accident anymore. But first he’d switch back to his channel.
Except this movie looked okay after all, so who cared? Some sheriff got off his horse and tied it to a tree. The horse immediately started grazing on the grass. Louie watched thoughtfully.
Louie switched off the TV. He got up and went outside. Stewball was sleeping in the shade, of course. Louie ripped up a handful of grass and held it to the dog’s nose.
Stewball sniffed and opened her eyes. She wagged her tail lazily, then closed her eyes again.
“You don’t eat grass, do you, Stewball?”
Stewball opened her eyes and licked at her teeth.
“Are those figs still bothering you?” Louie petted her back firmly, the way she liked it. “What happened to your ears before?”
Stewball’s tail thumped.
“And to your tail?” Louie petted Stewball slowly now. “You know what? I used to ride you. Do you remember?”
Stewball rolled onto her back.
Louie rubbed her belly. “I just remembered. You were a lot younger then, but you still used to sit down when I’d climb on you, too. You’re a smart dog.”
Stewball barked.
“Don’t worry, old girl. You’re the best dog there is. You don’t have to be a horse.”
Louie went back into the kitchen, through the house, and out to the front porch. He sat on the steps and waited.
Angel Talk
Something’s up,” said the Little Angel of Imagination. “What’s he doing?”
“I don’t know,” said the archangel. “But at least he’s not watching TV anymore.”
“You’re right. Hey, maybe he’s actually waiting for his brother. When Willard gets home, I bet he’s going to play with him.”
“That’s what I think, too,” said the archangel. “Only what will they play?”
“Louie will think of something.”
“And if he doesn’t,” said the archangel, “I’m sure you’ll help him.”
“That’s my plan.”
Animal Crackers
Willard jumped out of the car. “Let’s get the graham crackers,” he said as he ran past Louie into the house.
Louie ran behind Willard into the kitchen.
“Hurry,” said Willard.
“Willard, graham crackers won’t . . .”
“Hurry up! Before Mamma comes.”
Louie opened the cupboard. Maybe they could build houses out of graham crackers. And if that didn’t work, at least they could eat them. He picked up the box. Behind it was another box—of animal crackers. Pictures of lions and elephants and zebras stared out at Louie. “Willard, what is it about riding a horse that’s so special?”
“It’s fast.”
“Is that all?” asked Louie.
“And it’s high. You sit up high.”
Louie smiled. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Willard?” called Mamma. “Where are you?”
“He’s with me,” Louie called back. “We’re busy.”
“What?”
“We’ll be in the backyard,” called Louie. He grabbed the box of animal crackers, and they ran outside.
Willard went straight to Stewball.
“Forget Stewball,” said Louie. “She’ll never be anything but a dog.”
Willard’s face fell. “But you said . . .”
“I’ve got something better. Come on.” Louie went over to the picnic table. “How would you like to ride a zebra?”
“I love zebras,” said Willard.
Louie opened the box of animal crackers and dumped them on the picnic table. “Okay, separate out all the zebra ones.”
Willard stood on the bench, and together the boys made a pile of zebra crackers.
“Now feed them to me,” said Louie.
“To you?”
“Do it,” said Louie.
Willard put a zebra cracker in Louie’s mouth.
Louie ate it. He threw back his head and stroked his ears. “See how long my ears are growing? Zebra ears.” He opened his mouth.
Willard carefully placed another zebra cracker on Louie’s tongue.
Louie ate it. He sat on the bench and stretched out both arms and both legs. He swung them around. “I’m growing zebra hooves.” He opened his mouth.
Willard dropped in two zebra crackers at once.
Louie stood up, turned around, and shook his bottom at Willard. “I’ve got a thick, bushy tail.”
Willard laughed. “Zebra tail.”
Stewball came over and sat by the bench, her eyes on the animal crackers.
Willard put the rest of the zebra crackers in Louie’s mouth.
Louie munched them all down. “That’s it! I can feel it all over.” He made a loud, high noise through his nose and trotted around the picnic table.
Stewball trotted after him, nipping playfully at his heels.
Louie sidled up to the bench. “Climb on if you dare.”
Willard screamed in delight. He climbed on Louie’s back and put his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck.
“Just don’t strangle me,” said Louie. He hooked his arms under Willard’s knees and galloped around the yard as fast and as high as he could.
Stewball barked and barked.
Angel Talk
Did you put those animal crackers in the cupboard?” asked the Archangel of Imagination.
“Nope. I just moved them so they were right behind the graham crackers.”
“Well, that was a brilliant move.”
“Thanks.” The Little Angel of Imagination put his hands in his pockets and tried not to appear too cocky. “Louie’s doing good. He should have gotten on all fours, though. A zebra doesn’t gallop only on his hind legs, after all.”
“They’re having a lot of fun,” said the archangel.
“I know.”
“So maybe some details don’t have to be just right, after all.”
The little angel watched the brothers. Willard was laughing as Louie jumped pretend fences. “You’re right. I guess my job is done, then.”
“Don’t be so fast,” said the archangel. “A lot of what has happened so far came from Willard’s ideas and your strategic moves. But you’re not finished until Louie is able to come up with some ideas of his own, without help.”
The Little Angel of Imagination jumped with the thrill of anticipation. “I bet he can already. And I can’t wait to see.”
Guests
Louie reached for a slice of watermelon.
“Wait,” said Mamma. “Louie, why don’t you carry the bowl of watermelon into the backyard and all you boys can play together as you eat dessert.”
Louie looked at his mother, but she avoided his eyes. He didn’t want to play out of earshot of the adults, where the boys who were visiting could do mean things with no one to stop them.
“Go on.” Mamma picked up the bowl and handed it to Louie. It was amazing that she could do that without looking at him at all.
Louie carried the bowl through the kitchen and out to the picnic table.
The bigger boy, Jeff, grabbed a slice of watermelon, took a bite, and spit seeds all over. “Did you see that? I bet I can spit seeds farther than you.”
His little brother, Thomas, took a slice and spit seeds. They splattered down his shirtfront.
Willard laughed.
“What are you laughing at?” Jeff took another bite. Then he spit watermelon seeds in Willard’s face.
“Hey, don’t do that!” Louie jumped in front of Willard.
Stewball came bounding over. She barked.
“Keep that mangy dog away,” said Jeff.
“Yeah,” said Thomas. He climbed up on the picnic table.
“Stewball’s good,” said Willard, wiping the seeds off his forehead. “She never bites.”
“Is that so?” Jeff took another bite. This time he spit watermelon seeds on Stewball.
Stewball sneezed.
“That’s it,” said Louie. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you forced me.” He put his hand in his pocket.
“What’ve you got there?” said Jeff, backing up.
Louie took out four lion crackers. He handed two to Willard. “Let’s do it, Willard.” He ate his two lion crackers.
Willard looked confused for a moment. Then he grinned. “Oh, I get it.” He ate a lion cracker. Then he turned around and fed the other one to Stewball.
Louie roared.
Willard roared.
Stewball howled.
“You’re nuts,” said Jeff.
Louie stalked around to the other side of the picnic table. Willard stalked behind him. Stewball tagged at their heels.
“They’re lions!” screamed Thomas.
Louie held out a lion cracker toward Thomas. “It’s your choice. You’re either a lion or lion meat.”
Thomas snatched the cracker and ate it. He leaped off the table and stalked with Louie and Willard and Stewball.
“What about me?” said Jeff.
Louie felt in his pocket. “There’s still one lion cracker left.”
“Are there any other kinds?”
“Elephants.”
“Lions can’t kill elephants,” said Jeff.
“They can if they gang up on him,” said Louie.
“Be an elephant, Jeff,” said Thomas. “Please. Otherwise we have no one to gang up on.”
“I don’t want to be the only elephant,” whined Jeff.
“I can call my friend Sean to be an elephant with you,” said Louie.
“Okay,” said Jeff. “Feed me.”
Louie fed Jeff an elephant cracker.
Jeff gave a loud elephant trumpet.
The kitchen door opened. Mrs. Ford stood there and waved. Her bracelet jingle-jangled. “Are you boys okay?”
“Stay out of the jungle, Mom.” Jeff went lumbering off behind the tree.
Thomas and Willard and Stewball all huddled together, planning their attack, while Louie ran into the house to call Sean.
Angel Thoughts
The newest Archangel of Imagination flew up to his easel on his strong, wide wings. He had all his feathers now, and it wasn’t the loud bell at the start of a horse race that had rung to announce him earning his wings, it was the simple little bell on Mrs. Ford’s charm bracelet. He laughed.
The horse in his painting was running fast and furious, as sleek as any animal could be. The newest archangel picked up the paintbrush and dipped it in the white paint. He made a high wall with broad, sweeping strokes. Now no one could see the grass behind it. They’d have to use their imagination to envision the blue-green Kentucky grass. That was a cheat, sort of. But it would be good for people to exercise their imaginations that way.
Still, the newest archangel could help out a bit by stimulating their sense of color. He rinsed his brush, then dipped it in blue. He painted a vine full of flowers hanging heavy over the wall. And now he dipped his brush in pine green and painted a forest in the distance. Then something large and furry coming through the trees.
This wasn’t the Kentucky Derby at all. His beautiful horse was shining with the sweat of a real race. This horse had a mission. The newest archangel dipped his brush in another color, letting his imagination lead him.
How to Draw a Horse
1. Use light lines to start your drawing.
2. Draw the largest oval- the horse’s body-in the center of your page.
3. Following the diagram above, lightly sketch the dotted lines (circles, cones, and ovals).
4. Use your imagination to fill in the horse’s face, mane, tail, and hooves. What color will your horse be?
First Aladdin Paperbacks edition April 2000
Text copyright © 2000 by Donna Jo Napoli
Illustrations copyright © 2000 by Lauren Klementz-Harte
Aladdin Paperbacks
An imprint of Simon & Schuster
Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Designed by Steve Scott
The text for this book was set in Minister Light and Cheltenham.
The illustrations were rendered in ink and wash.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Napoli, Donna Jo, 1948-Playing games / Donna Jo Napoli. — 1st Aladdin Paperbacks ed.
p. cm. — (Aladdin Angelwings ; 8)
Summary: The Little Angel of Imagination is assigned to Louie, a boy who has forgotten to use his imagination, and tries to help him rediscover how to open up his mind as he plays with his dog and his little brother.
ISBN 0-689-83208-7 (pbk.)
ISBN 9-781-4814-6399-7 (eBook.)
[1. Angels—Fiction. 2. Imagination—Fiction. 3. Brothers—Fiction. 4. Dogs—Fiction.]
I. Title. II. Series, Donna Jo, 1948- Aladdin Angelwings ; 8. PZ7.N15P1 2000 [Fic]—dc21 99-87418 CIP AC
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