by Lynne Jonell
“But people will see us!” said Tate.
Abner shook his head. “Not if we’re careful. I’ve figured out how to bounce low. And we don’t have to take the roads—we can bounce straight across the fields. That will get us there faster.”
“Can I come, too?” asked Derek.
“And me?” added Celia.
Abner nodded. “We’ll need both of you. Now listen. I have a plan.”
The four Willows leaped over the fields, keeping their heads pointed forward, their bodies almost flat. This was the long, low bounce. But bounding through the fields was like getting whipped with a million blades of grass. After a while it started to hurt.
They stopped after the third field to adjust the bungee cords that strapped Celia to Tate’s back and Derek to Abner’s.
“My face is getting scratched to death,” said Tate. “Maybe we should take the road, Abner. When we see a car coming, we can duck into a ditch.”
“Okay,” said Abner. “Watch for dust in the air. On these gravel roads, you can see a car coming a long way off.”
“You can taste a car a long time after it passes, too,” said Tate, coughing. “Derek and Celia, keep your eyes and mouths closed while we’re moving.”
“We already are,” said Celia, who had buried her face in Tate’s shirt.
“Okay, everybody ready?” Abner looked around. “Let’s go, troops.”
The ditches were damp and weedy, and Abner and Tate had to drop to their knees in one whenever a car passed. By the time they got to the edge of town, their knees were grass-stained and muddy and their tennis shoes were sopping wet. But they were getting better at landing.
Derek shifted his weight on Abner’s back. “That last car—I think somebody saw us. A little girl in the backseat waved.”
“A little kid is okay.” Abner brushed off his knees. “Everybody will just tell her she has a good imagination.”
“Yes,” said Tate, “but we have to be more careful now.”
Abner looked past a tall grove of trees. He saw a line of scrubby bushes, a vacant lot, and what looked like a gravel pit. Beyond that was the first building in town. It was very tall, with an odd shape like houses stacked up. A sign said it was the feed mill.
Abner glanced around. No one was watching. “Tate,” he whispered, “let’s jump up where we can see. Derek and Celia, hang on tight.”
With a tremendous grasshopper bound, Abner leaped onto the middle roof of the feed mill. A second leap took him to the top. Tate thumped right behind him.
“I feel sick,” said Derek, who had made the mistake of opening his eyes.
“Don’t look down,” Tate advised.
“I’m not going to,” said Celia in a muffled voice. Her face was still pressed into Tate’s back.
Abner didn’t feel sick at all. He loved to climb trees, and he liked being up high, where he could see everything. But he was not up here just for fun. He had to figure out where Mrs. Delgado’s house was.
The town spread out below him like a toy village. He could see the rectangles of streets and the square rooftops of houses. He could see the taller buildings in the center of town, all lined up on Main Street.
And right next to a central square, he could see a big building with a playground. That must be the school. He pointed it out to Tate.
She nodded. “Mrs. Delgado said her house was across the street from the school.”
Abner squinted. There were three houses across from the school. “It must be the black roof, the gray roof, or the red roof. I can’t see her car, though.”
“Maybe she’s not back yet! Let’s hurry!” said Derek.
“We can jump rooftop to rooftop,” said Abner. “People don’t usually look up.”
“Okay,” said Tate. “I just hope the grasshopper magic doesn’t wear off while we’re jumping.”
The breeze whipped past them as they soared downward. Abner put his arms out to the sides for balance, and Tate did the same. They landed with a quick, soft bump on the roof of the grocery store, bent their knees, and bounced up again at once. Below them, shoppers with carts loaded groceries into their cars. One little baby looked up, pointed with a fat finger, and cried, “Birdies!”
“Big birdies,” muttered Derek.
“Really big,” said Abner, waving at the baby.
“Look out!” called Tate. “Church steeple ahead!”
Abner dipped his right arm, raised his left, and leaned to one side. The steeple whooshed past and his foot scraped the white paint.
“You left a smudge,” said Derek. Now that they were off the feed mill and bouncing, he was having fun again.
Abner didn’t care that he had left a smudge. No one would see it, up that high. He was just glad that he hadn’t crashed into the steeple. No more waving at babies, he told himself sternly. He had to watch where he was going.
But when they had bounced all the way to the red roof across from the school, Abner had a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach. Mrs. Delgado’s green car was in the driveway.
“Maybe she’s at the neighbor’s, picking up her little boy,” whispered Tate.
The four Willows dropped lightly to the grass in Mrs. Delgado’s backyard. They undid the bungee cords, and Abner and Tate stuffed them in their pockets. Then Derek and Celia marched up the back steps to knock on the door.
Abner moved his toes the tiniest bit and bounced up a few feet to look in the kitchen window. On the first bounce, he saw a refrigerator, a stove, and Mrs. Delgado’s back.
On the second bounce, he saw Mrs. Delgado moving away to answer the door.
And on the third bounce, he saw her little boy, strapped in a high chair and kicking happily.
Abner gripped the window frame and hung on. He pressed his nose to the glass.
In front of the two-year-old, on his tray, was a small pile of grasshoppers. As Abner watched, the little boy put one in his mouth and bit down.
“He’s eating them!” Abner slid down beside Tate and told her what he had seen. “Keep your feet perfectly flat to shuffle forward,” he said. “Go up the steps on the sides of your feet. We have to get inside and stop him from eating more.”
The back door opened. “Why, it’s the Willows! What are you doing here?” asked Mrs. Delgado.
Derek and Celia turned to look at Tate. She was the best at explaining things to grownups.
But Tate hadn’t practiced the flat-foot shuffle as Abner had. When she took a step, she almost left the ground, and her toes were dragging.
“Celia!” Abner hissed. “Derek! Help her!”
Derek and Celia rushed to take her arms. They pulled down, and Tate shuffled forward slowly.
“Did you hurt your feet?” Mrs. Delgado came down the steps. “You are walking so—”
“Mrs. Delgado,” Abner blurted out, “can we come in?”
“Of course. You must meet my Tomas!” Mrs. Delgado’s broad back filled the doorway, and Tate whispered to the others quickly.
“Can I have a drink of water?” begged Derek as soon as he got in the kitchen, and Celia said, “Me too?”
Mrs. Delgado stood at the kitchen sink, filling two glasses. Abner stood in front of the high chair with Tate, blocking Mrs. Delgado’s view of her son.
Tate tickled the little boy under the chin. Tomas looked up with big brown eyes.
Abner made a goofy face. He crossed his eyes and stretched his mouth wide with his fingers. The little boy laughed and reached out one pudgy fist. It was full of squashed grasshoppers.
Abner glanced down at the tray. Tate was sweeping the rest of the grasshoppers into her pocket. “Keep him busy!” she whispered.
Abner stuck out his tongue and waggled it from side to side.
Tomas laughed again. Then he opened his hand and picked out one grasshopper. He put it carefully on Abner’s tongue.
“How sweet!” cried Mrs. Delgado, bending over their heads. “Tomas wants to share!”
Abner stared at Tate with his mouth w
ide open. Grasshopper legs hung over his tongue.
“Better eat it,” said Tate sternly.
“Or Tomas will,” added Derek.
Abner shut his eyes. He crunched and swallowed.
“Tomas, have you eaten the rest already?” Mrs. Delgado looked down at the tray. “You should not eat so fast. You will get a tummy ache!”
Tomas didn’t seem worried about a tummy ache. He was more interested in putting the rest of his grasshoppers into Abner’s mouth.
“And now,” said Mrs. Delgado, “you must tell me. How did you get here so fast? Did your mother drive you?”
Abner couldn’t say anything. His mouth was full of grasshoppers that he didn’t want to swallow.
“No,” said Tate. “We … got a lift. From … Mr. Hopper.”
Mrs. Delgado smiled. “People here, they are so friendly. They give rides all the time. But why did you come?”
Abner, Derek, and Celia looked at Tate.
“We came to help you!” said Tate. “We came to babysit your little boy, so you could have more time to sew Abner’s costume!”
The Willows didn’t let Tomas’s feet touch the ground. They carried him outside, where Abner spit out his mouthful of grasshoppers. Then they found Mrs. Delgado’s old-fashioned stroller and strapped Tomas in. But he was a big boy, and his feet touched the footrest. The stroller bumped and jolted as if trying to bounce, and his body pressed up against the straps.
Tate bent over to check them. “The straps are holding him in,” she said, “for now. But if they rip …”
Tomas laughed and banged his feet down. The straps creaked. The stroller jerked forward a few inches and tipped to one side.
Abner snatched at the handle and steadied the stroller. “Sit on the footrest, Celia!”
“I’m too big for a stroller,” said Celia.
Tomas kicked again. “Too big!” he crowed. “Tomas too big!”
Tate caught his short legs in midair and glared at her sister. “Celia, sit down,” she snapped.
“There’s not enough room,” Celia complained, but she wedged herself onto the footrest with her back to Tomas. When she put her feet on the ground, her knees were almost to her chin!
Tate set the little boy’s legs on Celia’s shoulders. “Hold his ankles,” said Tate, “or he’ll kick you.”
Celia made a grumpy noise.
“Look, Seal, I’m getting on, too,” said Derek. He stood at the back of the stroller, on the ledge meant for packages. “Now it’s really weighed down.”
“It’s a good thing this stroller is built like a tank,” said Abner.
Tate hung on to the handle along with Abner. With three children on it, the stroller was heavy enough to keep her on the ground. She gave a tiny push with her feet and the stroller leaped forward.
“Don’t use your toes!” hissed Abner. He looked up to the window where Mrs. Delgado stood watching. He gave her a wide smile and an airy wave. He tried to keep his feet perfectly flat and not move his toes at all.
Mrs. Delgado opened the window. “Why don’t you take Tomas over to the park?” she called. “He loves the bouncing horses!”
“Horsies!” cried Tomas. “Bouncy bouncy!”
They pushed the stroller slowly down the street. “He’ll be bouncing enough without any horses to help him,” muttered Abner.
“We’ve got to get him somewhere safe,” said Tate, “where he can bounce it off.”
But the children couldn’t find a safe place to let Tomas bounce. Everywhere they went, there were people.
“Why is it so crowded?” asked Derek.
“Willow Days must have started already,” said Tate. “Look.” She pointed to a poster on a pole. “Tomorrow is the big parade. But today there’s a horse show, a ball game, a pie-eating contest.…”
“Pie!” shouted Tomas, kicking his legs. “Tomas eat pie!”
“Ow!” said Celia.
“Pie! Pie! Pie! Pie!” Tomas banged the stroller with his chubby fists. “PIE!”
“Maybe we should feed him,” Derek said. “That might keep him quiet until we find a bouncing place.”
“Okay, okay.” Abner dug in his pocket for the money he had brought, just in case. “There’s a bakery on Main Street. We can get him a cookie.”
“Cookie?” Tomas stopped kicking.
“I want one, too,” said Celia, rubbing her shoulders. “I’m the one who got kicked.”
“And I need to put some rocks in my pockets,” Tate said. “My toes are cramping up from trying to walk this way.”
Main Street was full of people. There were kids riding trikes with balloons tied to the handlebars. There were grownups eating hot dogs and waving to each other. And there were some boys Abner’s age carrying baseball bats.
Abner wished he were not pushing a baby stroller full of little kids. The boys were grinning as they looked at him.
Then the bakery door opened. Their mother came out with her arms full. “What on earth are you doing here?” she asked them.
“Cookie!” shouted Tomas.
“We’re babysitting Mrs. Delgado’s little boy,” said Tate in a hurry. “So she can sew Abner’s costume.”
Mrs. Willow’s eyebrows went up. “I wish you had asked me first. Did Mrs. Delgado bring you to town?”
Tate didn’t know what to say. She really didn’t want to lie to her mother. But some things were just too hard to explain.
Tate was saved by the sound of a loud, high voice. It was Mrs. Gofish, calling to them.
“Oh, I’m so glad to see you!” Mrs. Gofish came bustling up. She was holding the strings of more balloons than Tate could count. “Maybe you children can help me.”
Abner was worried. He did not want to help Mrs. Gofish anymore. It was bad enough that he had to be General Abner Willow in the parade. What did she want him to do now?
The others were wondering the same thing.
“What sort of help do you need?” asked Mrs. Willow.
“Cookie?” Tomas said hopefully. “Cookie? Cookie? Cookie?”
Mrs. Gofish laughed. “I’ll buy cookies for all of you if you pass out these balloons,” she said. “Give them to the children who don’t have any yet. I have to help judge the horse show.”
The children looked at one another.
Celia and Derek knew they had to stay on the stroller, to hold it down.
Tate and Abner knew they had to hang on to the stroller, to keep from bouncing up.
It would not be so easy to do all that and hand out balloons, too. And besides, wouldn’t balloons give them even more lift?
But Mrs. Gofish was already tying the balloons to the stroller handle. Tate quietly picked up a few more rocks.
Mrs. Gofish bought a bag of cookies at the bakery window. Mrs. Willow tucked the bag into a side pocket of the stroller. “Don’t eat them until you’ve handed out all the balloons,” she said.
Abner didn’t care about cookies. He wanted to get out of the crowd, fast. But he had to push the stroller slowly, or he would start to bounce.
Derek and Celia handed out balloons from the stroller. Tate tried to help, but even with rocks in her pocket, it was hard to keep from springing up with each careful step.
Abner looked straight ahead and didn’t smile. He pushed the stroller past the grinning boys on the sidewalk and pretended he didn’t see them.
“Hey, it’s a kiddie parade!” one of them said.
Abner felt like leaving town and never coming back. This was worse than eating a bowl of grasshoppers. He kept on pushing the stroller right to the edge of town, where there was a grassy park, with a hill beyond.
“This is where they’re going to have the horse show,” Tate said. “See?” She pointed.
There were cars and trailers in front of the hill. Some people were leading their horses out of trailers. Others were setting up hay bales for hurdles. One rider was trying to get her horse to jump over a big bale of hay, but the horse kept backing away.
“We
can’t let Tomas bounce here,” Tate said. “There are too many people already. And more are coming.”
“I know,” Abner said. “But the people will all be on this side of the hill. There won’t be anybody on the other side.”
And there wasn’t, unless you counted a little white dog that sniffed at them. The Willows found a grassy spot behind some big rocks and a tree, perfect for bouncing.
“Let’s have our cookies first,” Tate said. “Tomas has been good and quiet this whole time. He should get an extra-big one.”
“I’ll pass them out,” said Derek, reaching for the bag.
But there was no bag of cookies in the side pocket. And when they turned to look at Tomas, they could see why he had been so quiet. His cheeks were bulging. Cookie crumbs were falling from his mouth. And both his hands were inside the bakery bag.
“The little piggy!” Celia felt inside the bag. “There’s nothing in here but crumbs! He ate them all!”
“Now he really will have a tummy ache,” said Tate. She dumped the cookie crumbs on the ground. The little white dog trotted over to see if they were good to eat.
Abner undid the stroller straps and lifted Tomas out. “It’s his own fault if he does,” he said. “Anyway, let’s hurry up and get him bouncing. Then the magic will start to wear off, I bet. Tate, you take first turn.”
Tate tried. She took Tomas’s hand and gave a little spring. But she only got six inches off the ground, and Tomas bounced higher than her head.
“Ow! He’ll pull my arm off!” Tate cried.
“Hang on to him!” Abner said. “Your grasshopper magic is all used up!”
Tate pulled a giggling Tomas down and held him tightly. “I thought it was getting easier to walk without bouncing,” she said. “You’ll have to bounce with him now, Abner.”
Tomas wiggled in her arms. “Tomas bounce!”
“Yeah, okay.” Abner took hold of his hands. “Let’s go, buddy. Bounce! Bounce! Bounce! Boun— Oh, no!”
Everyone ducked out of the way as Tomas threw up, right in the air. Bits of cookie and chunks of grasshopper came flying down, wet and smelling of vomit.
“Eeew,” said Derek. He looked at the chunks on the ground and made a face.
“Don’t land in it!” called Tate.
